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.