Two Barrel Aged Specialties

I recently had the opportunity to experience (I hesitate to use the word "drink"...which would trivialize these fine libations) two excellent beers aged in oak. I previously posted on the history and characteristics of oak aged beer, and but these two beers are deserving of a post all their own.

The first is the Abbaye de Saint Bon Chien Grand Cru. Brewed in 2010 and bottled in 2011, this very strong soul ale was aged in two series of oak barrels, with the second fination occurring in Rhum barrels. Opening the beer, one is more surprised by what is not seen nor heard- in this case, there is no characteristic "pop" as the bottle is opened and no carbon dioxide escapes from the neck of the bottle. Pouring a dark red-brown with no head, this ale looks more like an aged wine than a beer. The aroma bears notes of sweet caramel, toffee, and butter rum with a hint of lactic acid. The palate is exposed to a tannic, wine like acidity that competes with intriguing notes of buttery caramel and rum, the latter imparting a spicy alcoholic finish (11% abv) to this exquisite barley wine.

The extremely low carbonation makes this beer look, feel, and taste more like a rich spirit than an ale.

The beer's chief characteristic, however, is the complete absence of any discernible carbonation or head. While many beer drinkers would rush to condemn this being "flat," a look at its origins reveals that this is evidence of a labor-intensive and authentic aging process. First, it has to be noted that this beer was hand-bottled from its oak aging casks. And while it is unfiltered, there was no yeast sediment at the bottom of the bottle to suggest that it had been bottle conditioned. Traditionally, bottle conditioning (bottling the beer with fresh yeast and sugar) triggers a secondary fermentation that yields natural carbonation and alcohol. Here, however, the absence of such secondary fermentation suggested that this beer was designed to be consumed "as is" as soon as it left the oak barrel. While the primary fermentation undoubtedly left this beer with its strong alcohol content and probably some carbonation as well, the long process of aging and maturation in wooden vessels allowed the carbon dioxide to dissipate over time. In a sense, this made the experience much more authentic, as the product was not enhanced in any way that would detract from the natural process of aging and maturation that occurred in the oak. This is a fine example of how a much more "primitive" looking product can far surpass the quality of any modern beer by remaining faithful to historical principles and methods.

The second oak-aged specialty that I sampled was La Trappe's Oak-Aged Quadrupel. I've long been a fan of the 7 Trappist Breweries, but I had never seen any of them release one of their traditional Belgian beers enhanced by oak aging. Well, the Abby of Koningshoeven decided to do just that in 2010, and I'm glad that these fine beers have made it over to the American market.

The beer I sampled was from batch #6 of the oak-aged quadrupel. Blended in April 2011, this beer is composed of 20% quadrupel aged in new oak and 80% quadrupel aged in heavily-toasted white wine barrels. I've always appreciated the La Trappe Quadrupel's strong malty flavor enhanced with a subtle aftertaste of clove and ripe bananas. This beer also sports a strong, alcoholic finish, befitting its 10% abv. By reincorporating a historic method of aging into the brewing process, the monks at La Trappe have only enhanced these flavors.

This beer was marked by aromas of rich, dark, and spicy malt with a distinct smell of lactic acid, molasses, and vanilla.  The dense, malty flavor with a hint of clove and ripe banana was also enhanced by time in the barrel, exhibiting subtle but distinct notes of lactic acid, oak, and wine, which gave the beer a patena of age that does much credit to its venerable name. As the beer warmed, the aroma developed strong notes of brandy, which, accentuated by the beer's strong alcohol content, carried over to the palate as well.

Both of these ales show just how much character and flavor can be imparted to a beer and experienced by the drinker when a brewer makes the extra effort to mature his living product in an environment that adds its own unique flavor and texture to the still-developing beer. In this case, the use of oak not only adds a layer of complexity to beers which in their own right are excellent products, but also allows one to taste a bit of brewing history as well.

An Introduction to Abbey Beers: Brewing in the Benedictine Tradition

When St. Benedict of Nursia fled the city of Rome to escape its worldly allurements and seek perfection in the monastic life, there were some Roman luxuries that he knew his monks just couldn’t do without. So while personal property, meat, and even private sleeping arrangements were all forbidden in the Rule that Benedict composed for his monks, he knew that even the most saintly hermits couldn’t do without the staple of Mediterranean cuisine: Wine.  

Now this is, after all, a beer blog. But what many beer and wine drinkers forget is that their fermented beverages of choice are much more closely related than they may think. In his treatise on the Theory and Practice of Brewing, 18^th Century English brewer Michael Coburn wrote that wine is simply, “a brisk, agreeable, spirituous, fluid cordial, formed from fermented vegetable bodies. In this sense beers and ales may be called, and really are, barley wines.”

Simply put, both wine and beer employ the same process to reach similar results, but with different ingredients. So it’s not surprising that when the Christian gospels, including the story of Christ changing water into wine, made their way into the northern regions of Europe where barley was grown in place of grapes, native clergy translated “wine” into “beer” – an adaptation that gave a divine imprimatur to brewing and no doubt helped with conversions!

Nevertheless, St. Benedict was writing in 6^th Century Italy, and had to make do with the grapes nature had given him. And so, almost grudgingly, he wrote that “because monks in our times cannot be persuaded [that they are not to drink wine], let us agree to this, at least, that we do not drink to satiety, but sparingly; because "wine maketh even wise men fall off" (Sir 19:2).”

Benedict also required that his monks earn their own way by being completely self-sufficient. And, given the dangerous bacteria that made water undrinkable in urban areas, monks devoted much of their daily work to making wine in the south and brewing beer in the north. During lent, many of these monks took no solid food and fasted on beer alone. In Germany, these traditions live on in the "double bock" style, noted for its alcoholic strength and dark malt character. 

A monk gives a tour of the monastery brewery
at Ettal in this historic photo.

Before the Reformation, there were said to be nearly five hundred monastic breweries in Europe. Some of these, like the world-famous Weihenstephan, were secularized around the time of Napoleon. Others retained their monastic brewing traditions and still make brewing an essential part of their daily ora et labora. In Germany, these include the monasteries of Ettal and Andechs, both of which are now popular pilgrimage destinations not only for believers, but for beer lovers as well.

In Belgium, Abbey style beers are usually divided into two three categories: the Blond, the Dubbel, and the Tripel. Traditionally, monasteries would create three "runs" of beer from the same malt base. The strongest of the three, which was the first batch of water to be run through the malt, was three times stronger than subsequent runs through the mash tun, which became more diluted with each mashing. Because the barrels these beers were stored in were marked with X's to show their strength (X, XX, or XXX), they were named accordingly. Usually, an abbey blond has a lower alcohol strength, and is brewed from pale malt. Dubbels range in strength from 6-8% ABV, and are traditionally brewed from dark malts. They are known for their rich, malty, and creamy flavor, which often imparts notes of chocolate and plum. Tripels are the strongest abbey style beers, weighing in anywhere from 8-10% ABV. While the type of malt from which these beers are brewed is not always indicative of the style, Tripels are usually brewed using Pilsner malts fortified with candy sugar and other spices that make these beers not only high in alcohol, but also fruity and effervescent. Today, many of these styles are brewed by secular breweries who are either associated with an existing monastery or have simply adopted a monastic name. Few active abbeys continue to brew beer, but some, like Maredsous, still play an active role in the beers that carry the abbey name.

Located in the beautiful Ardennes region of Belgium, Maredsous Abbey stands out as one of the most notable Benedictine monasteries in the world. In 1963, the Abbey contracted its brewing operation out to the Duvel Moortgat Brewery, although the monks still retain strict control over the beer’s quality and keep the recipes locked away in the Abbey’s safe. Proceeds from the beer’s sales also go to the Abbey in order to support the monks and their charitable works.  Maredsous brews three distinct, abbey style beers: The Blond, the Bruin, and the Triple.

Maredsous Abbey

The Triple, also known as Maredsous 10, displays a very clear, dark orange body with a frothy, white head.  As you raise the glass to your mouth, you will notice a lively aroma of fresh yeast, citrus and subtle, intriguing hints of whiskey and caramel. As you taste the beer, you’ll notice a smooth, tangy citrus flavor accompanied by strong notes of alcohol at the end, balanced out by a sweet note of caramel. In all, this makes for a very intriguing beer whose strength (10% ABV) is masked by a refreshing blend of citrus, bread, and sweet-malt flavors that epitomize the essence of a classic Belgian Tripel. In all, this great beer does much credit to the time-honored Benedictine charism of “ora et labora” – work perfected by prayer.

The Benedictines are not the only religious order competing in the global beer market. Another order that broke off from the main Benedictine congregation to live an even stricter life has become nearly synonymous with fine beer: The Trappists. So, while I hope this has provided an introduction into the historical origins of monastic brewing, I’ll wait for a later post to write about the world’s most famous monastic beers.

The Burgundies of Belgium

While the wooden barrel is often seen as the ideal incubator for wine and whiskey, few have given any thought to, much less experienced, beer that is endowed with the tart and tannic flavors that can only be imparted by oak aging.  Despite this lacuna in the modern palate, beer lovers of generations past knew nothing else. For centuries, oak barrels were the only vessels used to ferment, age, and serve beer of all varieties.  Over time, barrel making (technically known as “cooperage,” a labor intensive art in its own right) gave way to mass produced steel fermentation tanks, and beer all but lost the complexity derived from its wooden womb.   As brewers sacrificed the originality and spontaneity of an often unpredictable aging process for the sterility of controlled fermentation, small, farmhouse breweries designed to grow an agricultural product were overshadowed by breweries whose design reflected a much more mechanical approach to the ancient art of brewing.

Workers assemble giant oak aging casks at Brewery Bavik in Belgium

Beer, however, is not a manufactured product.  Rather, fermentation imparts life to a creature of nature that, like all living things, requires growth and development to attain full maturity.  While  bottle-conditioned and cask-conditioned beers are good examples of this process, barrel aged Flemish Brown and Red ales exhibit a character that is uniquely tied not only to their ingredients, but to the method of their production and storage.  While beers of this style can be found throughout the world, some of the most famous varieties are produced in Flanders.  Their characteristic tannic, tart flavor is derived from the acidic bacteria present in the oak casks where the beer is aged, sometimes for up to two years.  The color of these beers- ranging from cherry red to dark brown is a function of the mildly roasted Vienna malt used in mashing.  As with any aged beer, these “burgundies of Belgium” are often blended so that the still-fermentable sugars of the younger beer can be consumed by the complex yeast structures that have developed in the older beer.  

Duchesse de Bourgogne

A prime example of this style is Brewery Verhaeghe’s Duchesse de Bourgogne.  Poured in a wide-mouthed Belgian chalice, this un-filtered, un-pasteurized ale displays a deep, dark cherry hue that foreshadows its fruity effervescence.  While the beer’s vinegary aroma may repel the uninitiated drinker, its sweet and sour cherry flavor combines with the beer’s tannic, red apple acidity to produce a complex, bittersweet taste which offers the patina of age along with the youthful, fruity refreshment reminiscent of a fruit lambic.

But not all barrel-aged Belgians are of the Red/Brown variety.  Petrus Aged Pale, for example, is a fine example of an aged ale brewed from pale malts. The result is a beer with an orange-gold hue that gives off aromas of spicy fruit and white wine, with a hint of caramel and brandy.  Just as its darker cousins are often compared to red wines, Petrus Pale Ale tastes like chardonnay with a warming, spicy finish that leaves the drinker with notes of sherry and brandy on the palate.  Originally used as a base for subsequent blending, this unblended aged ale was recommended as a specialty beer for the American market by world renowned beer hunter Michael Jackson.    

Petrus Aged Pale

Abbaye de Saint Bon-Chien (2010)

Some brewers have taken this barrel-aged Belgian tradition to extremes. A prime example is the Swiss Abbaye de Saint Bon Chien (vintage – yes, like a wine vintage – 2010).  This rare beer (individually numbered by the bottle), boasts an alcohol by volume of 11.0%.  Not content to age it in a single oak barrel, the brewers matured this strong ale in a mixture of 11 oak barrels: 6 Pinot Noir, 2 Chardonnay, 1 Pinot Gris de Neuchatel, and 2 Merlot du Tessin.  The beer’s red-brown hue is obscured by the large amount of sediment that inevitably escapes from the bottle, reminding the drinker that this un-pasteurized, unfiltered ale has not been compromised by modern brewing methodology. The drinker is initiated into this beer by its sour-oak aroma, and while it evidences the fruity, lactic acidity common to all barrel aged beers, it is distinguished by a whisky-like character, no doubt the result of the ale’s high ABV combined with an infusion of oak from the succession of barrels in which this exquisite brew matures and develops. While the strong, warming finish separates this beer from most Flemish style Red/Brown ales, it is a creative extrapolation on a style whose complexity invites constant experimentation and evolution.  

In recent years, American microbrewers have imported this Belgian tradition to put an old-world spin on their own beers.  A prime example can be found in the many barrel-aged brews produced by Michigan’s Jolly Pumpkin Brewery.  Befitting the season, a great example is Jolly Pumpkin Noel de Calabaza.  Boasting a 9.0% ABV, this opaque ale conceals a lactic acidity that lends an aged character to its rich, malty base, which will immediately remind any Belgian ale enthusiast of a strong abbey quadrupple. Here, the beauty of oak-aging is revealed in the thirst-quenching tannins that lend a rare, refreshing character to what one would expect to be a heavy, malty beverage. Like many barrel aged beers, this one develops a red-wine flavor and aroma as it warms (preferably in a snifter style glass).

These are just a few examples of how an often overlooked historical brewing method can have a significant effect on the finished product.  Experience the difference for yourself and try one of these “burgundies of Belgium” wherever fine ale is served! 

Christmas and the Birth of American Craft Brewing

When, in the fullness of time, long after the American beer drinkers had languished amid the depravity of bland, international brews purporting to be pilsners, a young Stanford graduate arose to redeem the American brewing industry. His name was Fritz Maytag, and the beer was San Francisco’s iconic Anchor Steam.

After Maytag bought and revived the failing brewery in the late 1960’s, the San Francisco landmark became America’s first craft brewery.  Since 1975, Anchor has produced an annual Christmas Ale with a secret recipe that differs slightly each season.  In the early 1990’s, beer writer Michael Jackson featured Maytag and Anchor Brewing on his “Beer Hunter” series – YouTube currently features Jackson’s “California Pilgrimage” in five parts, and if you follow the link below you can lean more about this history of this pioneering brewery and its iconic “steam” beer.

This year’s 2011 “Special Ale” pours a dark mahogany with a luscious, tan head. Its creamy, chocolaty aroma invites the drinker to experience an intriguing, spicy, and hoppy roasted malt flavor, which ends with a dry, slightly alcoholic finish that you wouldn’t expect from this beer’s modest 5.5 % ABV. Merry Christmas!

Lambic and the Origins of Beer

No one knows for certain where or when beer was first brewed.  While we do know that it appeared roughly ten thousand years ago, its discovery was most likely accidental.  Before mankind began to settle in agricultural communities, the brewing process probably got started when a clumsy hunter-gatherer left a cache of fruit and berries out in the open. After rain and yeast made their way into the container, the community would have been surprised to discover a drink endowed with certain “life-enhancing” qualities.

As communities began to grow around centers of agricultural production in the near-east, early farmers adopted the unexpected lessons learned in hunting-gathering days and began to mix cereal grains in water.  Leaving this mixture out in the open, it was fed upon by invisible and ubiquitous yeasts that descended on the brew like dew from above.

Today, the brewing process is essentially the same, with the exception that brewers typically “cast” scientifically isolated strains of yeast into closed fermentation vats in order to spark the process that turns a mixture of water, barley, and hops into beer. 

Some breweries, however, have remained true to nature’s own tried and true process of “spontaneous” fermentation.  Concentrated in the Payottenland region of Belgian near the town of Lambeek, these hold-out brewers produce what is commonly known as “Lambic” Beer.  In its pure state, Lambic is simply “wild beer.” Typically, it is produced by grinding a mix of barley and wheat (which imparts a refreshing, thirst-quenching character to the beer) into warm water. Then, aged, dry hops are added, not for flavor, as you might expect, but for their preservative effect.

The “wort,” or young beer, is then laid out in wide, shallow tanks and windows in the brewery are opened to expose the mixture to wild yeast.  After allowing the yeasts to have their way with the beer overnight, the brewer transfers the wort into oak barrels where it will remain for 18 months to ferment.  This is why the aged hops were originally added to the mixture – to keep the beer fresh during this long maturation period.

This, of course, is how beer was produced everywhere for centuries.  Today, however, the method is largely confined to Payottenland and some enterprising craft breweries outside Belgium, including Maine’s Allagash Brewery, which recently launched a series of spontaneously fermented brews.  Nevertheless, Lambic beer is nearly synonymous with Flanders.  In Pieter Bruegel’s 1568 “Peasant Wedding,” for example, you can make out this unique, pale brew as its poured into jugs for the waiting guests (in the lower, left corner). 

A highly versatile beer, Lambic can then be bottled and sold as pure “wild beer” or infused with cherries, raspberries, peaches, or even apples to create unique fruit beers.  Undoubtedly, the most well known of this variety come from the Lindeman’s brewery, famous for its cherry (kriek), raspberry, and other fruit Lambics.     

Oud Beersel Oude Geuze

Lambic can also be enhanced through the particularly Belgian art of beer blending.  In that case, old Lambic is blended with young Lambic, which triggers a secondary fermentation and creates a unique, champagne-like style of beer known as Geuze (pronounced “ger-za”).  A fine example of this style is Oud Beersel Oude Geuze.  This pale and bubbly beer greets the drinker with tart, fruity aromas, reminiscent of the cornucopia of natural flavors imparted by the wild yeast responsible for the beer’s fermentation. The texture of the beer is marked by its champagne like effervescence, and the taste is dominated by notes of white wine, sherry, and citrus.  This can be a hard beer to find, but it is well worth the hunt.  A liquid time capsule, this unique beer returns the discerning drinker to an era when man was both fascinated and refreshed by the natural miracle of fermentation – a fascination that has not abided, even after 10,000 years.     

Creaturam istam cerevisiae

The title of this blog, Creaturam istam cerevisiae (“this creature beer”), comes from the traditional Latin blessing of beer in the Rituale Romanum (the handbook for blessings and other ceremonies in the Roman Rite of the Catholic Church).  Although a love and appreciation for beer transcends religious differences, this title is particularly germane for a blog focused on the nexus between beer and culture.  For centuries, Christian monasteries were the source of brewing knowledge and technology, growing into some of today’s most respected and well known breweries.  In an age where literacy was largely restricted to the clergy and the nobility, the transmission of the knowledge essential to mastering the art and science of brewing was guarded preciously by men who depended on the sustenance provided by this “liquid bread” to supplement their meager diet. 

Exploring the history of beer in light of the Judeo-Christian tradition is also appropriate when we consider the mystery of fermentation from a theological perspective.  The Jewish, and subsequently Christian, tradition has historically placed great emphasis on seeing God’s creating hand in the multifarious fruits of the earth. Accordingly,

“God's ultimate purpose in creating the world is the manifestation of His goodness and excellence, and a communication of them in part to His creatures … Irrational creatures [i.e., beer] fulfill their obligation also in their existence and functions, according to the laws that govern their nature. This is their silent voice of praise.” Philip T. Weller (translator), The Roman Ritual, Copyright 1964 Philip T. Weller.

This is especially true of beer – while technically “irrational,” (i.e., incapable of rational thought) it is by no means dead.  The genesis of this life-sustaining beverage from the invisible action of nature’s creating hand gives testimony, by virtue of its eternal self-propagation, to the mystery of creation whereby our lives are nourished by God through the fruits of His creation.

It is appropriate, then, that world-renowned beer expert Michael Jackson described the products of fermentation as “a family blessed with eternal life.” Fathered by a microscopic and ubiquitous organism that “descend[s] from heaven even more gently than the rain,” beer is born when yeast from above feeds on the sugars of malted grain, propagating itself and leaving the “life enhancing qualities” of alcohol and bubbly carbonation in its wake.

As a living “creature,” Beer’s “silent voice of praise” can be heard throughout history.  From the thirst-quenched sighs of Egyptian pyramid builders to the Gregorian Chants of Benedictine Monks, the story told by mankind’s favorite drink spans centuries and continents, reaching nearly every age and culture. And, if you drink with an informed and discriminating palate, you can taste the story – and the history – behind every beer you imbibe. These are the stories that this blog is dedicated to telling, one beer at a time.

And for those who want to see the title of this blog in context, here is the aforementioned beer blessing:

V. Adjutorium nostrum in nomine Domini.
R. Qui fecit caelum et terram.

V. Dominus vobiscum.
R. Et cum spiritu tuo.

Oremus.

Bene+dic, Domine, creaturam istam cerevisiae, quam ex adipe frumenti producere dignatus es: ut sit remedium salutare humano generi, et praesta per invocationem nominis tui sancti; ut, quicumque ex ea biberint, sanitatem corpus et animae tutelam percipiant. Per Christum Dominum nostrum.

R. Amen.

Et aspergatur aqua benedicta.


English translation:

V. Our help is in the name of the Lord.
R. Who made heaven and earth.

V. The Lord be with you.
R. And with thy spirit.

Let us pray.

Bless, + O Lord, this creature beer, which thou hast deigned to produce from the fat of grain: that it may be a salutary remedy to the human race, and grant through the invocation of thy holy name; that, whoever shall drink it, may gain health in body and peace in soul. Through Christ our Lord.

R. Amen.

And it is sprinkled with holy water.