how Belgium does beer and where to find it locally

BY BRANT MYERS

PHOTOGRAPHY BY TODD MEANEY

I went out drinking with our intrepid photographer Todd Meaney, again. This time we wanted to eschew our normal haunts and find a place with a good selection of Belgian beers. Something about this cooler time of year mixed with a quaff of mildly spiced brew makes you want to enjoy the 18th largest import of this small European country.

Nestled smack dab in the middle of Northwestern Europe, Belgium is surrounded on four sides by neighboring countries and one side by the English Channel. On a clear day, you can even see straight across to the Cliffs of Dover in England, although when I was in Belgium I couldn’t see straight. Must have been foggy.

How can such a small country have such a large reputation for their beers? Well, to put it simply, to make a sub-par beer would be an affront to God. Far from the height of scientific methods, fifteen hundred years ago the task of brewing was left to the women who would subsidize their family income by brewing beers. Having few resources to pool, they would use whatever ingredients they had available, add some murky water, and hope for the ensuing bubbles to be the right kind. The saving grace for humanity at the time was that you must boil your wort to make beer, so they inadvertently purified their water while making some sort of brew.

Monasteries also needed income for their day-to-day operations and entered the homebrew competition of life. Eventually they squeezed out the barely lethal rogue operations and attacked brewing with a . . . religious fervor. These Trappist monks had the patience of a, uh, brewer, and the precision of engineers. Anything less and it would reflect poorly on the big man Himself. Meticulous note taking and recipe tweaking helped them mass produce beer on a larger scale, all the while increasing drinkability. We can even thank them for adding hops to both balance out the malt sweetness and better preserve their creations. >>

Fast forward to today, and we can go into most good bottle shops and find at least one Trappist beer and a wide selection of imported and local Belgian beers. Over the past five hundred or so years, these breweries have really been able to perfect their recipe, and only in the past couple of decades realized that bottles can be loaded on shipping containers. Tonight, we got to revel in the spoils of modern transportation and sit down on two comfy chairs to drink examples from three sides of the U.S. and across the pond to the Motherland.

I walked into SLO Wine & Beer Co. for the second time in my life and was greeted by James Springfield, the manager and man in charge of my libations for the evening. I politely said, “Hello,” but was struck by the transformation between my visits. On my first, there was a more industrial warehouse vibe with cases of wine serving as both structure and storage, and a line of glowing beer coolers against the wall. I don’t remember much else, just grabbing a couple cans to go and taking them home. This time, I definitely wanted to stay a while longer. Long gone are the cases and fluorescent lights. Now I’m greeted with a warm Edison-bulb glow, leather bar stools lined neatly against an expansive bar, and a full-sized wall mural, which was likely there before, but now stood prominently as a center piece of the lounge area. Matching leather club chairs are scattered throughout, providing comfortable nooks and crannies for an intimate night out, in addition to a more social area filled with cafe tables, two-tops, and four-tops with more stools, and chandeliers to light the room without the cold brightness of industrial lighting. I dig it, and said as much to Springfield.

Meaney and I perused the beer coolers lining the south wall and decided to take our mouths on a Tour du Belgian beers. Luckily, I cut my craft beer teeth on Belgian ales, so I’ve had these offerings before and am just relishing the opportunity to revisit some classics and enjoy some favorites. I’m really just prefacing my lack of notes from this session because one only says, “Yumm diddlyum.” Clearly, I’m a professional.

We start with a good one. Always start with a good one. This was a Curieux from Allagash Brewing in Portland, Maine. It is a golden tripel that has been aged in bourbon barrels to impart notes of honey and vanilla, then solera’d with a fresh batch to get both the nuances of the barrel and the foundation beer. It is indeed tasty, and my notes are still working, for now. In case you’re still trying to figure out how my spelling error got through the editor just a quick note that breweries/monasteries charged by the strength of the beer with three X’s being the highest, then two, then one, then a “small” beer that the monks drank themselves utilizing a second pass over the used ingredients. This isn’t the most traditional of beers, but it is tasty, and the subtle oak notes really play well with the base beer giving it an almost oaky Chardonnay vibe.

I’m jumping around the world sampling these beers as I lined them up specifically for a tasting, so before we try another American take, I jump over the pond as Springfield opens up a Kwak. The beer with an odd name has a great taste. Amber in color and more mellow of flavors, this Belgian Pale Strong ale is malty and warming. Famous for typically being served in a trumpet shaped glass and accompanying oak stand, this brew can be served in a dog bowl and still stand on its own. We continue the malt train and jump back all the way to the West Coast and drink a standard here, Brother Thelonius from North Coast Brewing in Fort Bragg, California. This dark dubbel (two X’s) is technically a Belgian Dark Strong ale, but despite being strong, it’s notoriously smooth. Roasty, nutty, clove aromas wafting from the glass with a boozy finish, it sits firmly in my “fireplace” beers category, being a great sipper to share with another.

We palette cleanse with a Canadian brewery’s take on a Belgian White Ale, known colloquially as a Wit Bier. This flagship beer from Unibroue in Quebec pours a pale straw color, unlike the other beers, and has a bright orange and clove presence. It helped clear our heads and offered a ray of brightness in a world of dark, rich offerings. We quickly dispatched it and decided to give ourselves dreams of dancing pink elephants as we crack our final beer, a Delirium Nocturnum. This blue can adorned with an iconic pink elephant is Brouwerij Huyghe’s dark take on the more popular Delirium Tremens. The Belgians are really good at making Belgian beer and this is no exception. Robust and figgy, I can still pick up stone fruit and caramel, but my senses are starting to relax, as are my notes.

Having spent three hours talking with the knowledgeable Springfield, joking with Meaney as he photographs bottles, and sipping one beer category made in three different countries, I’m really enjoying my visit. The new ambiance allows time to slow, despite the cars speeding down Higuera Street. I grab a few bottles and cans to go, again, but once home, I promptly tell my wife we need to go back for a date night. I’m happy to see another locale where I can sit back, relax, and travel the world one glass at a time. So, raise a stemmed tulip or snifter of your finest bananaclove-estered Belgian tripel to SLO Wine & Beer Co. and quaff a Kwak with me!