Well fellow beerophiles, the Kolonel had a little minor oral surgery Friday, so he spent the weekend living on Vicodin and beer. What a combo! They should have a warning  about that… (read the first two paragraphs under “Important Information”). As I emerge from the haze, I feel compelled to shower compliments upon a New World spin on the Old World brewing styles that are so near and dear to my heart.

New Belgium Brewing, a Fort Collins, Colorado establishment, is best known for Fat Tire, a world-class amber ale that most beer lovers west of the Missisippi know and enjoy. Why they don’t export to the East Coast is beyond me, and has been the cause of many alcohol-induced tantrums (the Captain will appreciate this sentiment when I mention the lack of Yuengling on the West Sa’ide… sniff). For a long time I thought Fat Tire, and a couple other seasonal varieties, was all New Belgium was good for (and it would have been enough). I now stand corrected. Big time.

It’s hard to imagine that an American company, great as its domestic styles may be, could ever come close to equalling the complexity, depth, and all-around intensity of a beer made by monks using a recipe older than Jebus. When I want a crisp, hoppy, fruity craft beer, I look to the American microbrews. When I want to brood among the ruins of past civilizations and muse on the ever-changing but somehow eternal nature of all things, I go for an Old World tripel or dubbel. So, when I arrived at the New Belgium section of the local beer seller, I immediately grabbed a six-pack of their Trippel. And it didn’t work. It tasted like a tangy ale that’s been strained through a sock. I don’t know why it didn’t work, but I was close to giving up and letting New Belgium stick with good ol’ Fat Tire. But I decided to give them another shot. Thank God.

Abbey is what Trippel should have been. Simply put, it tastes like the “real thing.” It’s a dubbel, which means slightly less ABV, but 7.0% is just about right. It’s got the dark, mahogany color, the deep, earthy scent, and the lively, breathing head to release it. And the taste… damn. It’s all there. There’s the herbal top (perhaps cloves? Coriander?), the bready middle, the coffee and caramel base. From the first sip to the last, this is a heck of a good time. New Belgium: we still have words to exchange regarding Trippel, but your Abbey–right on.

To summarize: tastes fantastic, 7.0% ABV, nominally $6.99 for a six-pack. Get some of this beer now.