I am actually posting again. Yes, the prodigal son returns. You know, whenever I hear of the “prodigal” son I always think of the word “prodigy,” which is totally not what that parable is all about. Because if your son was a prodigy and came home, you’d be all like “Sweet! OK then, Mr. Smartypants, how bout you use that genius brain to unclog the downstairs sink!?!” When really the parable is all about accepting someone even after they go out and squander your fortune but then you forgive them, yadda yadda. I’m just saying that sometimes you can get off on the wrong tangent.

Which, in a sense, is what this post is all about.

Back when I joined Hall of Beers, nigh on four dog years ago, I knew I wanted to focus on the fine beers of Belgium. Since the tripel (trippel, triple, et. al.) is generally the strongest of the Belgian brews, and I felt I needed to flex nuts, I went with that as my moniker. What I have since discovered is that, while I still crave the sharp, tangy, foamy pleasure of the tripel, my heart truly lies with the dark, earthy, seductive delights of the abbey double. It’s why I love New Belgium’s Abbey. Why I’ll pick a Chimay Red over a Chimay Cinc Cents any day. Why I choose the succulent drumstick over the dry, boring breast. When eating chicken.

Case in point: Bornem’s Triple is a good beer. No question about it. Now, as you can tell from the picture, she got away from me a little on the pour. The head came out with large, almost soapy bubbles, and slowly dissipated into a miniature mountain range of foamy peaks and valleys. Very poignant, but I tend to prefer the thicker, finer consistency in my beer top. The color is light blond, cloudy but not totally opaque. Mouthfeel is light for a tripel (particularly compared to my homebrewed variety, which you need a fork–and a bomb suit–to consume). The flavor is characteristically tangy, predominated by sour green apples and a hint of lemon. The aftertaste is also the typical dry, bitter finish that comes from adding candy sugar to the boil which, incidentally, blew my mind when I made my own batch. Bornem’s 9% ABV is pretty standard for a tripel, but it does not dominate the flavor. Besides that, nothing jumps out as unique about the brew, but don’t take that the wrong way; this is good drinkin, perfect for a warm spring/summer afternoon, say, right after you mow the lawn and now your brand new white sneakers are stained green but that’s cool because I got me a Bornem Triple and the birds are singing and the bugs are buzzin and it’s all good. Except for the damn itchy grass rash.

Is this a mid-life beer crisis? Or is it simply a step in my journey of beer life? Only time will tell.