The blue cap Chimay was first brewed as a Christmas beer, but due to popular demand it is now available year-round. The Grande Réserve is a fine example of an abbey quad, one of few brewed by actual monks.
Before my recent move to New York I had a beautiful Chimay glass, tuned to ring at the pitch of the Scourmont Abbey bells (see it here and here).
The Grande Réserve pours a hazy deep chestnut brown. The straw-colored head is creamy and thick, but doesn’t last long enough. The nose is round, sweet, and almost vinous. Dark fruit like prunes and brandy compliment the caramel and chocolate notes. There is a faint hint of hazelnut.
The flavor is rich. Alcoholic warming supports caramel, dates, prunes, and walnuts. A bit of a spiciness, probably also from the alcohol, might be described as pepper halfway to anise. The body is significant, but remains dry, and the lively carbonation and alcohol keep this beer remarkably drinkable. Have it today, or cellar it for years.
Chimay Grande Réserve
4.2 (4-8-8-4-18)
From the brewers’ town of Watou, Belgium comes a witbier made by 
The French offering is called Gavroche, brewed by 
The bottle has easily the most interesting closure system I have seen in a while: it is corked with a mushrooming cork, like many Belgians, but instead of a thin wire cage to keep it in, there is one hefty wire bar across the top.
The other red I will have tonight is brewed by Brouwerij Van Steenberge for the 
Monk’s Café
The beer style saison was originally brewed each winter in Belgian and French barns and farmhouses for the consumption the following summer by migrant farmhands. The Tourpes, Belgium farm on which 
Saison Dupont pours an old gold color with a thick haze as well as a homogeneous distribution of tiny yeast particles. The off-white head is thick and moussey, and for the cellared version has a bit more stability. The change in the nose is intriguing. The fresh saison has a very light fruity nose of lemon and pear. Some malt and dry grass or hay come with it. The 2007 has a much darker fruit aroma. Raisins, cranberries, and figs stand out. There is just a bit of a malty sweetness before a funk sets in. I wouldn’t describe it as quite barnyard, but that might be only because I drink gueuze. There is just a bit of cider and some stinky cheese on the nose that remain too mild to be unpleasant.
I decided to blend the last few sips of each vintage. They compliment each other quite well, with the 2007 providing a robust character and the 2009 making it sprightly.
Finally, the Avec les bons Vœux de la brasserie Dupont. The top of this label has the inscription “III”. Every bottle I have seen has this. I don’t know what this is or why it’s there. Please tell me if there is some story behind the three that I cannot locate.
Dupont Forêt
If you want an inspirational story about a brewery that pulled itself up by its bootstraps, you need look no further than 
Goose Island produces five year-round beers: 312 Urban Wheat Ale (one wonders what exactly “urban” means here), Honker’s Ale (a regular bitter), India Pale Ale, Nut Brown Ale (formerly the more inspired Hex Nut Brown), and Oatmeal Stout. They also brew a variety of seasonals (some with more interesting names) and their acclaimed special reserves. Among the most sought-after craft beers these days is their Bourbon County Stout, a bourbon-barrel aged imperial stout that sells for upwards of $5 per 12 ounce bottle. Tonight I will try three others of the brewmaster’s specials: the Belgians Matilda, Sofie, and Juliet.
The taste is spicy with yeast character. A noticeable alcohol warming supports the peppery flavor. There is some strange fruit and caramel. A little dustiness and that strange fruit are all I get from the Brett. A bit of hop bitterness seems present but is quickly gone. Tastes just a little flat. Officially it is “dry and quenching”, but I don’t find it either. There is a prominent sweetness that turns cloying, leaving a coating on the tongue accompanied by a lingering astringency. Don’t drink this one now; sit on your bottles for two or three years.
Finally we get to Juliet, an aptly-named sour, aged in wine barrels of indeterminate variety on blackberries (at one point they were using gooseberries). Juliet is an opalescent burnt orange with some white head. The nose is deep. Fruit dominates the first level, mostly pie cherries, dates, blackberries, kiwi, and raisins. Then comes a dusty, barnyard sweetness. Deeper yet is a rich balsamic vinegar character. A complicated and intriguing aroma.
Perhaps a strange designation for a Belgian golden ale, Buffalo Bitter is brewed by 
The Bruocsella is a lightly hazy golden poppy. Just a hint of activity puts a spindly thread of straw-colored head in a ring around the glass. The nose is quite funky and sour: horse blanket, vinegar, and sour laundry. There is a bit of peanut butter. The aroma is dry and dusty. Like many lambics it is woody, but taken to a new level: it reminds me of the smell of my recorder from elementary school. Notes of cheese and gym sock. Paired with all this pleasantness is a delicate fruit character of mango, papaya, and red delicious apple.
The nose is delicate, dry, and dusty, the aroma that of a farmhouse attic, with barnyard character drifting in through an open window. Grass and straw, dust and must, wood, horse, and goat. Subtle, complex, and elegant, the aroma on this beer seems light at first but will fill and tantalize your nose.
feed me
