Thornbridge Brewery – Bracia

THIS BEER was made for the cask. Brawny black, 9% ABV, and liberally dosed with bitter chestnut honey from northern Italy’s Alpine foothills, Bracia blends seven malts and five hops in a best-guess interpretation of an Iron Age strong dark ale. The malt bill is a robust parade of Maris Otter, Brown, Munich, Dark Crystal, Black, Chocolate, Peated and Roasted Barley, while hops are comprised of Target, Pioneer, Hallertau Northern Brewer and Sorachi Ace. This last, being derived from Japan, is hardly a traditional choice for this kind of brew, but it’s parentage of Saaz and Brewer’s Gold certainly cleave more closely to classic European flavors–spicy, earthy, some light floral and lemony citric notes, and a fairly clean bitterness.

Admittedly, not much of that hop melange comes forward in the glass–rather an alluring and potently dense blend of grape, syrup, rounded coffee, a slight daub of sweet peat, dark chocolate (not quite bitter cocoa), amaretto, and other nutty derivations. Grape is truly one of this beer’s calling cards, especially on the nose, and it’s more prominent from the bottle. But that quintuplet of hops does come through sufficiently to back up the full body, stake out some balancing earth and slightly woody bitterness in the midpalate, and prevent this beer from becoming too heady and sweet. Indeed, it’s altogether deviously easy to drink, showing limited alcohol heat, a long but not gummy finish, and just enough crinkle of effervescence to scoot it across the tongue. Truly a prize and a refreshing change of pace from the vanilla/coffee-infused bourbon bombs of imperial stouts that have become de rigeuer for so many American craft brewers looking to stake their claim to winter. Let them make their splash: through millennia, Bracia endures.

Served: On cask (Fountainhead)

Rating: 94

Brasserie Dubuisson – Scaldis Noël (Bush de Noël) Premium

BELGIAN BREWERS are famously ambivalent about style appellations (rigorously regulated Trappist ales notwithstanding), and when the Yuletide rolls around the boundaries seem to be lowered even further. Unlike in the States, where Christmas ales are almost invariably spiced winter warmers, Belgium’s Nöel beers just seem like another excuse to brew something special, styles be damned. Even Stella Artois was a Christmas beer at first.

Dating back only to 1991, Scaldis Noël doesn’t quite have the six centuries of precedent Stella boasts. Perhaps that newness helps explain some of the indecision surrounding what it actually is: called Belgian strong dark ale by some, “red amber ale” according to the bottle, and “Strong golden ale/barleywine” according to their guru importers, Vanberg & DeWulf. The brewery itself adds to the confusion by producing a normal Scaldis Noël, usually packaged in 33 cl bottles, as well as this Premium version in 75 cl bottles, which is distinguished via warm refermentation in the bottle for three weeks before shipping out. Furthermore, Scaldis is also sometimes called Bush, depending on the export market, though evidently it only used to refer to a single pale ale brew meant for England.

The result, whatever its name, is a dark copper strong ale that might appear amber if it weren’t clouded with residual yeast. The aroma is pleasantly layered beneath the initial powerful waft of booze—dark cherry, light molasses, plums, some caramel but almost more leather, all overlaying a yeasty bed. Most Belgian ales of this strength are still quite ‘digestible’, in the favored Belgian parlance, but Premium is even more light-bodied than usual. Its head is large and diffusive and highly assertive carbonation punches through the body, leaving the finish fairly clear of cloying sugars or lingering malt flavors on the tongue. Instead it rises into the roof of the mouth with vaporous impressions—alcohol fumes, soft water flatness, maybe even some smoky phenols, and once again the yeast that was given free reign in the bottle.

So altogether it makes sense that Noël Premium is hard to pin down—its 12% ABV, surprisingly light body, undulating color, and rambunctious yeast flavors all might belong to different styles. And yet they come together artfully here, making Noël Premium a rewardingly complex yet still quite accessible companion on a snowy night. A number of American breweries attempt to cast this broad or contrarian a net and fail to secure any of their targets. Mastering the challenge may just come down to practice—even if this specific Noël recipe is “only” 23 years old, the family-owned Brasserie Dubuission was founded in 1769. They’ve had plenty of years to get their formulas just right.

Served: 750 ml bottle best by 2016

Rating: 92

Stone Brewing – 12.12.12

THE END OF AN ERA, 12.12.12 is the last of the Vertical Epic series begun a decade ago. After releasing a beer each year on the calendar’s only symmetrical day, one might wonder what Stone has left to say after 10 years of strong seasonal ales. But then one might not know the first thing about Stone. These Californian icons are nothing if not confidently creative and this series has thoroughly earned its name. The final chapter takes form as a strong dark Belgian ale, perhaps classifiable as a Christmas beer for its robust spice profile, but not so conspicuously estery. A closer analogy might be what pumpkin ales wish they were.

Indeed, such additions as allspice and coriander are assertive in the nose (joined by some citric and earthy hops and moderately caramelized malts) as well as prominent early on the palate. Instead of turning to pumpkin ales heavy-handed sweetness, though, 12.12.12 counters its early flavors with coffee malts, a refreshing dose of bittering hops, and an unexpectedly crisp finish. An alcohol level of 9% can be guessed at—not for its presence but for the beer’s overall body and depth of flavor. Warming and piquantly spiced but still surprisingly digestible, 12.12.12 deftly bridges the gap between nearly all of winter’s offerings. Fie on Gregory XIII that his calendar only grants us a dozen months.

Served: On tap (Beer Hoptacular, Chicago)

Rating: 92

Dogfish Head – Raison D’Être

RAISON D’ÊTRE’S raison d’être, if you will, is to be a dinner complement to steak. Founder Sam Calagione cites Bordeaux as a particular point of inspiration and also included green raisins, beet sugar, and a Belgian yeast in his recipe. The resulting beer surely has some grape tannins and a high ABV (8%) that will bear comparison to wine. But whereas a fine Bordeaux will flatter and tease out new depths from grilled beef, Raison D’Être would rather throw a body blow and stand its own ground. That’s not to say that it’s overpowering–in fact, it’s a little flabby overall. But that girth is still sufficient to push other flavors around the palate instead of mingling with them.

Leaving wine aside, Raison D’Être’s blueprint in beer is the Belgian-style strong dark ale: layers of bready sweetness, spicy phenols, and complex fruit overtones from a distinctive and prominent yeast strain. Hops are somewhere in the mix (it is a beer, after all), but their 24 IBUs have only a minor late presence and do not linger. The use of beet sugars creates an interesting and slightly tricky texture akin to a vegetative molasses. Carbonation is finely articulated and apparent early on the palate and also clears up some of the finish, though not enough to dispel the sweetness or cloak very much of the alcohol. Head retention is sub-par for a beer in this class, but at least the mahogany color is clear and enticing.

Amidst the caramel in the aroma and raisin sweetness on the palate (slightly nutty, too, almost as if deliberately oxidized),  the Belgian yeast manages to poke through. It contributes fewer spicy phenols to the finish than would be best, though, and thus Raison D’Être’s final impression is considerably less ‘digestible’ than the Belgian ideal: full flavors up front and dry crispness in the back. A bit stolid all around, Raison D’Être lacks the nuance and lightness that makes true dark Belgians such a delight. Overall an uncommonly common effort from the oft-outré Dogfish.

Served: 12 oz bottled 1/8/13

Rating: 82

Trader Joe’s Brewing – Trader Joe’s 2012 Vintage Ale

TRADER JOE’S VINTAGE ALES are one of the beer world’s happiest and surely most random happenstances. Each year a clutch of these dull brown 750 ml bottles descends on TJ endcaps everywhere, bolstered by brightly hand-drawn signs crowing ‘$4.99!’, ‘Can be aged for years!’, and other impassioned appeals to our urge to stock up. Such tactics are usually worthy of great skepticism, but in this case the enthusiasm is at least partially merited since the Vintage Ale is brewed and bottled by none other than Quebec’s Unibroue, arguably the preeminent purveyors of Belgian–style ales in all of North America. Seems like those exclamation points were well earned.

Unibroue’s recipe for the Vintage Ale changes year-to-year and always reflects some member of their own lineup, albeit in a more rough-hewn form. Its 2012 effort is dark and spicy, very serviceable if a bit unrefined, reminiscent of Maudite’s bite and slightly slick alcoholic finish. Belying a demure bottle design, it boasts a 9.4% ABV and an almost piercing phenolic brightness that develops throughout the bottle. The trademark Unibroue yeast is discernible mostly in the aroma and towards the front of the flavor. Hops play a marginally larger role than is usual for Unibroue, though the spate of wintry spices and cocoa ultimately draw more attention. Its head also dissipates more quickly while the finish is drier and less full than their branded products. In brief, the ’12 Vintage is good, but not great, and leaves the lingering impression that the 2011 installment was more nuanced. Still a good value and a partnership worth supporting.

Served: 750 ml bottle

Rating: 86

Unibroue – 17 Grande Réserve (2011 Vintage tasted in ’12 & ’14)

WHETHER THE 17 should be a Belgian Strong Dark or a Quadrupel is frankly immaterial: whatever its name, it is a beer of profound density and balance. Recognizably Unibroue, loosely a furthering of their Trois Pistoles, but with the added complexity of spices and oak-aging. The head is lingering, bright and faintly acerbic; the beer itself powerfully malty, but balanced sufficiently by the relatively high IBU of 35. Blending of head and liquid make for a mocha-like concoction that’s almost creamy, but never too sweet. (And, for what it’s worth, given the 17’s prominence of spice and malt instead of fruit, the Belgian Strong Dark is the better category after all.) A slow-sipping triumph even this young, at peak maturity it will rival better ports as a pairing for a cheese dessert plate. A slow-sipping triumph even this young, at peak maturity it will rival better ports as a pairing for a cheese dessert plate.

Served: 750 ml (2011 Vintage, best by ’17)

Rating: 94

 

2014 Addendum:

Happy coincidence brought about another encounter with the 2011 bottling of Grande Réserve, coming straight from the supplier and thus more assured of gentle treatment over the years. While still fundamentally recognizable as the same beer sampled in 2012, two additional years have matured and mellowed 17 considerably. This process occurred more quickly than one would have guessed, in fact, though not so swiftly as to already see the beer past its prime.

The first noteworthy change is in the pour; the color is almost ruddy and a bit cloudier while the head is considerably less generous. Next is how the oak has diminished considerably in both aroma and flavor. While still readily apparent on the first nosing and in all stages of flavor, its edges are softened and melded more smoothly into the malt core of the beer. (As an aside, Unibroue do not actually age the beer in oak vessels, but rather with oak spirals. The first vintage used French oak chips, but spirals were found to deliver mature flavors faster and more credibly.)

That subsiding presence allows other notes to have a greater impact, primarily from the malt: raisin, date, a sprinkling of medium-dark chocolate, and a small hint of sherry towards the finish. Carbonation has also stepped back, explaining that less lingering head and a slightly fuller, creamier mouthfeel. Yeast is also more conspicuous, a little earthier and denser in texture than the fresh bread and spice from the fresher vintage. Hops were never a major player in the mix, despite 35 IBUs that are fairly high for Unibroue. Here they have faded enough to be indistinguishable, though perhaps they still contribute sufficient bitterness to keep the maltiness from becoming cloying. Altogether it’s virtually impossible to say whether aging has improved the beer, but on all accounts it’s a rewarding experience worth waiting for—intentionally or otherwise.

Served: 750 ml (2011 Vintage, best by ’17)

Rating: 93

 

Brasserie de Rochefort – Rocheforts 6, 8 & 10

UNLIKE MOST TRAPPIST BREWERIES, which adhere loosely to a dubbel/tripel/quad kind of hierarchy or (in La Trappe’s case) branch off into various other continental specialties, the three ales from Brasserie de Rochefort all share a basic recipe and exist along a hazy continuum. Strong dark ales, not a tripel amongst them, it’s said only an increasing dosage of sugars and malt differentiate the 6’s more dubbel qualities from the 10’s quadrupel trappings. Thus, like a close family portrait, Rochefort’s children reveal one another in reflection and by sampling all three in tandem one receives the best impression of each.

Rochefort 6

OPENING THE CEREMONIES is the 6, which announces itself with a deep auburn pour and picture-perfect head proportion (for a Belgian). Big aromas of bready malt, cherry, milder fruits like pear as well, and toffee, all well supported by the flavor itself. An ABV of 7.5% is believable, being more notable towards the back end, slightly clinical yet not uncouth. Carbonation is present and a touch peppery, more prominent than in the higher gravity brews that follow, but still judiciously balanced with the lightly toasted malts and slightly understated candied yeast sweetness. Still altogether more sweet than spicy, but still with sufficient attenuation to not feel like overmuch like a dessert drink. A tasteful classic and deviously drinkable.

Served: 33 cl bottle best by 08/09/15

Rating: 92

Rochefort 8

SUCCEEDING ROCHEFORT’S 6, is their 8, which at 9.2% is rather stronger than a dubbel and more in the ‘strong dark’ territory. But again, the distinction is mostly academic, as the two are more closely related than is the 8 to the 10. Perhaps the first notable difference is the more pronounced yeast influence, which works its influence from the bouquet to the finish. Fortunately it is a fine one, a little more earthy than medicinal and with some berry overtones. Plenty of sediment in the bottom of the bottle, though no grainy mouthfeel is detected even when emptied to the last. Less dominated by fruit than its lesser brother and unexpectedly steady-on for its strength. More herbal back notes than spice, and altogether a portrait of balance.

Served: 33 cl bottle best by 01/02/17

Rating: 94

Rochefort 10

AN UNEXPECTED AND INSPIRED DENOUEMENT to this triptych, weighing in as a quad of 11.3%. Similarly dark to its brethren and capable of a fairly thick head despite a lower feel of carbonation, the strength and concentrated flavors of the 10 make it most easily classifiable, though still not predictable. The first significant twist is the nose, which is lighter, less spicy, and more phenolic than expected with some lemon and licorice. The complementary flavors are simply regal—thick and malty, a little medicinal, and with a slow-growing alcohol dissolve into the palate that cleanses the finish of the esters, yeastiness, and sprigs of hop crispness that unfold over the palate. Not quite so big in body as some other quads, but with a self-assured presence and plenty of booze that could catch up all kinds of quick. But one bottle is satisfaction enough; to overindulge in such a distinguished treat would simply be disrespectful.

Served: 33 cl bottle best by 27/06/17

Rating: 96

The Lost Abbey – 10 Commandments

DARK BELGIANS DON’T too often come stronger than this Californian homage; at 10% ABV and not at all shy about it, this is a beer for sipping, even if its smooth flavor encourages larger gulps. Very dense nose, little head to speak of, dark cherries, grapes, and fruit skin in the first flavor, then an oily alcoholic midpalate  with some metallic overtones before a sweep of malt cleans and clears things up. Quite dry, with the warmth and tannins of a Cabernet as well as the slightly musty malt of a Scotch ale.

Served: On tap (Local Option, Chicago)

Rating: 91

Brouwerij Van Steenberge NV – Gulden Draak

DIFFICULT TO LOCK DOWN with a simple description, the Draak is one of the most complex dark Belgians that’s not a quad. Dense and satisfying head sits atop a dark root beer pour, full of carbonation and with a fairly sweet, but cagey nose. After a briefly herbal opening flavor, the sweetness of raisins and dates is swiftly cut by a bready, biscuit swell in the later palate. Alcohol of 10.5%  is obvious, but neither bitter nor overpowering. Peppery, but still easy to swallow. To do so would obscure its many layers of flavor, though, and is discouraged. Worth its fairly high price, and stands up to many robust dinner pairings.

Served: 750 ml bottle (16KK)

Rating: 94

North Coast Brewing – Brother Thelonious Abbey Ale

A BELGIAN-STYLE STRONG DARK ALE, but with a tripel’s presence and kick at 9.4%, and not shy about it. Very little head on the pour–dark brown with scant hints of red— heavy with currents and cider in the nose, though a flavor more of caramel, roasted malts, seasonal spices, and apple peel. Only moderately effervescent and with a somewhat metallic, maybe a little seared finish. Like a young brandy, more time in the cellar would likely turn this into a gem.

Note: As is North Coast’s wont, this beer also is notable for its charitable effects: each bottle sold nets a donation to the Thelonious Monk Institute of Jazz. Humph that.

Served: 750 ml bottle

Rating: 86