A Letter From Belgium

The Beeriest Weekend of Them All

Beer Travels December 23, 2004
Written by JorisPPattyn

Wilrijk, BELGIUM -

Part 1 Wednesday

Wednesday morning – the weekend has still to begin; as a matter of fact, JPP has to do some dentistry, after all the beer has to be financed somehow. So the morning is in relative calm, some patients, whilst waiting for the phone to ring.

A bit later than expected, a familiar American accent rings in my ear. David is in Aalter already, and, Lut being in the neighbourhood shopping, I sent her over while I go fetch the kids, who go crazy over the American visitor, just not understanding he will not understand their enthusiastic outbursts of Flemish. He’s a good one, anyway, as he’s brought presents (for daddy too – Victory Hop Wallop, Summit Oktoberfest and Maibock, Bear Republic Hop Rod Rye, Mojo IPA, and something I’d never heard of before, Big Swede from a Viking Brewing. Small presents make a happy Joris). Dieuwert keeps trying with a timid “Bonjour?”. That there is something as English, AND something as French, is beyond his 6-year-old’s comprehension.

After lunch, the weekend is about to start. But with a jet-lagged visitor, one has to be patient. So, whilst I set out my paraphernalia to prepare dinner, as I dutifully promised, I slip into the cellar, to haul up some rateables - sturdy 75cl bottles - that can easily be shared. Boingg. First disillusion of the weekend; I’ve done it again. First bottle ought to have read “Oud Zottegems”, and I had started making mental notes on “nose” already, but when sitting down, to write, I remark a blue label. On Oud Zottegems? No way. Ye Gods. It’s Zottegemse Grand Cru. I’ve taken the wrong bottle from the shelf again. Happens to me more than half my hauls. When I shop beer, I never reach for the first bottle on the shelf, weary of light-ruined beer. So I take the second, third in the row – way too trusty that shopkeepers neatly arrange the shelves and will not put a different bottle behind the first. Well, apparently they do.

OK, let’s enjoy the beer instead. David is quite happy with the beer, so am I. Whilst he is mailing to his homeland, I chop onions and blend dried tomatoes. But after some time, tiredness gets the better of him, so he retires, leaving me plenty of time to finish. Meanwhile, Lut has gone fetch the babysitter for our beery vacation – in casu, my mum, to utter joy from the children – and finding herself at the station, she’s enquired about our Monday tickets, for the big day. Again a cold shower. No cheap tickets available, the whole train-on-steroids nearly reserved in full. And worse, when phoning (takes forever, those telephonic waiting rows), the last train back is a quarter past six in the evening. Leaving us only 7 meagre hours on location for visiting brewpubs in a million-person city.

Oh well, David having reappeared, me still cooking, time for an aperitif. As a preview on the festival, La Moneuse Spéciale Noël. We both agree a masterpiece; truly great beer. David is put to work by Lut, assembling a newly-bought lamp – her overtly happy to have a Handy Harry instead of the husband hating that kind of job. Well, hummppff, at least they have the decency to declare my penne-ovendish a success. The beer is finished, the meal taken, and I shove the kids to bed. Finally, time for the first outing.

We decided on Tielt, smallish town some twenty minutes drive. There’s a beerpub and tapasbar, under the name of “Pado”, which had just presented its new housebeer to the press a few days ago. As I had been unable to get there then, this is a great occasion. At first, it seems a bit of a setback, as the owners declare the beer in fact, not for sale – having to reserve the small stock for the official opening next weekend – but knowing me, and knowing that I had come specially for the beer, they parted with two (Lut being BOB, drivers’ duty) samples for us. In fact, the initiator comes to sit with us in the otherwise totally empty pub, telling us about the beer. It took quite some time getting the name right (“Halleschelle” – a reference to the towns’ most important monument), the walls being covered with labels, all referring to the new beer – but with a dozen different names. As it happened, the beers’ name and label had been the subject of a design competition. Won by a sixteen year-old student!

OK, time for tasting. After the first shock of coriander seed jumping out of the glass another, even less welcoming, smell wafts up. Dishwater. Is it the beer? Is it the glass? After some time, I compare with David’s glass. Same smell, but much less pronounced. During later samplings, there was always a trace of this smell, and actually, every glass that was poured for us, contained several mm of water. I hate that, and it ought not to happen. It seems inevitable, with this spraying system more and more pubs adopt. God forbid all “progress”! So, the beer is really OK. The coriander is not overpowering, certainly not in the taste, and all in all, the beer pleases us both. Talking about coriander, the owner tells us about the first batch of the beer that contained several times more coriander (40 g on 30 l, instead of 65 g on 220l). He goes and fetches us a bottle of this exclusive first brew. Indeed, coriander soup. However, I’ve had worse.

Equally welcome are the nice tapas presented to us. This place is great for these Spanish titbits and they can make a full meal here. Well worth trying. I decide in favour of another new one to me: Buitenlust Dubbel. Never heard about that one. As to be expected, another Proefbrouwerij commissioned beer. I like it at first: though called “Dubbel”, it is a pale blond beer. Good – we need more of such anti-style affirmations. Alas, the beer itself is hardly worth the naming. OK, another one for the Proef, but our enthusiasm is diminished. We opt to go out, as in the mean time, the pub starts filling with what seems the most grimly-determined future lung cancer patients I’ve ever met. Fleeing the blueish clouds, we head for the car and Knesselare, where my bro-in-law runs a pub, with a good beer selection (I had to drop it), “Poezenhoek”.

An Oerbier and a malt whisky later, we are ready to tuck in, preparing for the great weekend.

Part 2 Thursday

Thursday morning, thankfully quiet, as the first beery encounter is only planned for 14.00h. Well, as quiet as possible in a house where three little ones have to be at school in the morning. Afterwards, the three of us prepare for the beery activities, meaning a good brunch.

Indeed, we are expected at Dupont farm-brewery in Tourpes by brewer Olivier Dedeycker after lunch. Despite Belgian roadblocks, we arrive minutes before the agreed 14.00h. Brewer from Dupont, Olivier is only too happy to speak to us in English, for the benefit of his colleague. Later, we learn why – apart from heartfelt hospitality. Whereas the brewery has managed a 22% overall production raise in 2004, the raise for the USA is 100% (Belgium only 10%). In fact, even before entering the brewery, Olivier tells us about the main difference in the Belgian and the American interest. Belgium wants Moinette Blonde, America prefers the Saison. I’m eager to align myself with the Americans, as Olivier confirms being of one mind with his predecessor Marc Rosier, in secretly regarding Saison as his pride.

Then we enter the brewery and marvel at the untouched looks of the brewery; as being 150 years back in time. Which immediately brings up my question about the damning HACCP- rules, dreamt up by dimwit Eurocrats sitting behind desks in asbestos-freed buildings, having never seen a brewery from the inside, and knowing as much about brewing as the cows eating the spent grains. (Cows which are important, BTW, as the brewery has since a couple of years ago a side activity of cheesemaking). I have touched a sore nerve as Olivier starts lamenting about the silliest of rules they have imposed upon him. Worst, he feels, was the fact that the official Cro Magnon (my expression, not Olivier’s) visited in June and demanded the changes for the 1st of November, including extensive roof-rebuilding. Luckily he got a temporary reprieve, but he knows anyway how he will spend the gains of the increased production.

<center><IMG width=300 border=0 SRC=/images/features/Dupont.JPG>
Olivier pouring his beloved Saison</center>

Onwards goes the visit, to the more up-to-date parts of the brewery. David enthuses about the centrifuge, Olivier stresses the fact that they had new horizontal fermenters built - trials with cylindro-conicals having proved too taste-changing. I marvel about the way this shining new equipment has been inserted in the centuries-old buildings. Another point that strikes me is the way this brewery has changed inner looks in the eighteen years since I last visited. Still I feel at home. I show Olivier the primitive article I wrote in the antediluvian newspaper of OBP, edited in those pre-desktop publishing days. Unfortunately I discover another clipping on the next page, about a sad history the brewery had with a beer label somebody bought from them. Before applying, the commissioners labelled it “Adolphe – la bière qui fait fureur!”, featuring a Hitler puppet. Then, the brewery virtually begged us not to produce this, as they were to no end embarrassed by it. But we had to do it, as it proved so well our point about the intricate wrongness of labelbeers. To my surprise, Olivier now says exactly the same, insisting he’d like a photocopy, both of the article and of the clipping. He insists: “If I can keep up these production raises, I will be able to say some day soon: No more label beers – just the three, four beers of my own”. Dupont is indeed not the brewery for experiments – only for improvements.

Not that knowledge is lacking – far the opposite. Both Olivier and his wife are bio-engineers, himself specialised in brewing sciences, her a doctor in microbiology. This underlies the new activities: cheesemaking, as well as breadmaking every other day. The cheeses (4 different varieties) are respectively made with malt, or washed with beer, and more of such. After the visit, Olivier takes us into the nice visitors’ room, pouring us Saison Dupont and Avec Les Bons Voeux. We learn that this last beer, BTW, was originally a real present (1 bottle) to the good customers, before becoming a yearly full-sized product. To set off the beer, he produces four generous measures of the cheeses produced. Lut’s decided: she wants to buy a piece of each. I decide for a threepack of the Bons Voeux – and I want Cervesia, the exclusive malted wheatbeer with spices. But exactly as in the old days, we have to drive the extra three miles to Aubechies for getting some of that. We do that, but not before thanking Olivier profusely for the great visit, and a little visit to the cheeseshop. Sadly, no bread today.

................................................................

Comments

No comments added yet

You must be logged in to post comments

................................................................

Anyone can submit an article to RateBeer. Send your edited, HTML formatted article to our Editor-In-Chief.

brings up my question about the damning HACCP- rules, dreamt up by dimwit Eurocrats sitting behind desks in asbestos-freed buildings, having never seen a brewery from the inside, and knowing as much about brewing as the cows eating the spent grains.

about us
About RateBeer
FAQ
Contact/Feedback
New Beers

add
Advanced Search
Add A Beer
Add A Brewer
Add A Place
Events

membership
Log In
Edit Personal Info
Buy Premium Membership
Your Messages

the best
RateBeer Best
100 Beer Club
The Top 50