What tales have I to tell! I mean… what tales have I to tell? Why don’t you read on!?!?

The good folks at Red Carpet had come up with an interesting and enjoyable whathaveya: the tasting focused on Belgian and Belgian-style beers, and each round was served up blind. One glass held a genuine, “old world” Belgian brau, the other an American beer in the same style. I’m proud to report that the Fleet came to a correct consensus as to Belgian v. American* with 90% accuracy! That’s because we have refined and trained palates, eyes and noses:

It was a lovely event with lots of great beer and it was informative too! For instance, I never knew that Belgians brewers are taxed based on the amount of grain they use, and thus have grown resourceful and tricky, adding more sugars, fruits and other elements to their beers. This in turn lets (and indeed they encourage) the yeasts to play a much more prominent role in shaping the flavors and characteristics of the beer. German beer’s flavors, on the other hand, are much less influenced by yeast which serves really just to convert the starches of the malt (and/or wheat) and break down the hops.

Yowza, right!? RIGHT!!! Oh, and then there was this:

That was… later in the tasting. (Wonderful beard, Brigadier! Prost!) Anyway, along with some excellent cheeses I have heretofore not mentioned because, c’mon hosebag, we’re here for beer! But naw, there was good cheese as well… anyway, all the great beer, and even the surprise finish of an Old Rasputin Imperial Stout from 1997** made for a great time and a good way to salute Sgt. Stout’s birthday (shared with The Kolonel and the General by the way! Ey!). In fact, damn… how better to spend a Sunday? Perhaps with even more beer… but I’ll take it!

* now THAT would be a fair fight. Heh.

** the flavor was INTENSE. Oily, thick mouthfeel bringing in deep chocolate, roasty coffee, almost leathern and smoke notes. Damn. The carbonation was too low and I think the brau was maybe a year past its prime but man… awesome 11 year aged stout? Sweetness.

That’s right, we brewed us another Belgian Wit, and this one’s going to rule. It’s been a brewy week, beervolk. The Mrs and I bottled our Blackberry Wheat two nights ago, and then last night we brewed us some Belgian Wit, baby! We’re talkin’ sweet dried orange peel, cloves, cinnamon, fresh squeezed tangerine juice and 4 other flavor ingredients that are SECRET… and no, I don’t mean water, hops, grains and yeast. Those are not the secrets. So wait there… on the very edge of your chair… whimpering and hoping no one notices you forgot to put on deodorant (again) and we’ll see you in, oh, 4 weeks.

*or so we hope… more on that in uh… a month.

To begin this post, I would like to quote a stanza from the Byrds’ 1965 song Turn Turn Turn:

• To everything, turn, turn, turn
• There is a season, turn turn turn
• And a time for every purpose, under heaven
• A time to be born, a time to die;
• A time to clean up exploded beers, a time to finally find Hoegaarden in Vegas.

And so on. This afternoon I rolled over to Lee’s Discount Liquor (the last word is pronounced “Lic’ah”) for some of the Ayinger Brau-Weisse I had planned to review today (great hefe BTW, I’ll do it next). As I have done the past 69 trips to Lee’s, I forlornly scanned the shelves for a hint of that elusive Belgian Wit I came to love last spring in Florida, and have been unable to find in Nevada thus far. And what to my wandering eyes did appear, but four six-packs of the sweet sweet Hoeg, which I instantly snatched up and absconded with like Gary Sinise kidnapping Mel Gibson’s son in Ransom. On that note… what the hell, Mel? Seriously, what the hell?

Hoegaarden is what I would call your benchmark Belgian Wit (which means white, by the way, anyone who tells you it means wheat you punch them squa’ in the face and then steal their wallet and shoes). As mentioned above, I became a fan about a year ago when I was stuck in Florida for three months trying to learn how to fly a new airplane. Spring was blossoming all around and the workload was surprisingly light (“here are the keys to your new jet, don’t f#ck it up” kind of act) and I recall coming back from many a long afternoon run to a cool Hoegaarden (then another… and another) and thinking, this is just about right. Despite its 4.9% ABV, Hoeg is a beer you can get what I call Accidentally Drunk on. As in, “whoah… I’m feeling kind of drunk! When did… what did… how did that happen?”

Oh yeah, the review…. Hoegaarden arrives in a 330mL (11.2 oz) bottle, so if you’re stingy about that last 0.8 oz, reference my earlier comment about the definition of “Wit.” The beer pours a bright, springtime yellow, barely opaque and with a head that naturally seems to rise to just the right size. The aroma is fresh and crisp, just a touch of yeast and citrus fruit. The taste, like the scent, is crisp and refreshing. Lighter than many Belgian white beers but with plenty of complexity. You can definitely detect the bready yeasty flavor but it is not oppressive at all. Then there is a hint of coriander mixed with a splash of orange and lemon. The mouthfeel is light and the aftertaste is basically more of the same bucolic enjoyment. To sum it up, everything is balanced to provide the perfect, refreshing brew for springtime, or any time. And it is finally mine… again.

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.

Friends, you see those ‘lil bubbles in that thar airlock? That’s this Captain’s second batch of Belgian Wit brewing. Our first go round, complete with peels of orange, spice of cloves and cinnamon and uh… spice, and some secret hobo ingredients was, in a word, shweet. We’re almost out of our 2 case batch of Belgian, so we rushed to get more into the primary fermenter. Good timing too, as our stout was done in the secondary last night, and we bottled it. That’s some of the stout batch in the bottles back there. Now, I know I’ve been rambling on about our stout in a few posts lately, but let me tell you somethin’… I accidentally slurped up a bit of it last night while siphoning it into the priming/bottling cask… and it was delicious. We’re talking uncarbonated, un-primed… not finished, and still—delicious. So stand by for two more weeks; I’ll try to get my mind and my posts off of it until its ready and then BAM!… Capn’s Stout hit the streets. Then more Belgian. Homebrew uber alles. Bam.