Appearance - 8 | Aroma - 7.5 | Flavor - 7.5 | Texture - 7 | Overall - 7

Intended as "the first low alcohol tripel", which is of course a contradictio in terminis, this is one of several beers already developed by the well-known Parkabdij, a norbertine abbey near Leuven which started brewing in their own microbrewery (installed on the abbey's own premises - importantly!) in 2017. Brewed with rye and malted wheat and hopped with Lubelski (a traditional Czech variety), Willamette and Nugget (both American varieties from the seventies and thus among the pioneering New World hops). Initially towering high, foamy head, egg-white, thickly plaster-like lacing and densely mousy, diminishing slowly over a misty deep golden beer with ochre-ish tinge and a whirlwind of sparkles storming through the glass, sustaining this long-lasting head. Aroma of cold camomile tea, lemon zest, green banana, strong minerals (further enhanced by the high degree of carbon dioxide initially), freshly baked white bread, apple peel, dried lemonbalm somewhere, hint of pineapple, some vague soap, green pear, dried thyme. Fruity, very spritzy onset, strong minerality both from the carbon dioxide and from the brewing water itself (carbonated sparkling water effect), banana peel, pear and light pineapple notes but elegantly refraining from too much sweetness; rounded body, not quite betraying its low alcohol volume, with a nice bready malt 'fluffiness', a dim underlying rye spiciness and a soft wheat soapiness, but the latter remains very limited and even if this soapy effect remains noticeable to the finish, it does not become all witbier-like (despite the beer being brewed in the larger historical witbier region - though they can of course brew anything they want there). The banana ester travels along but does not dominate anywhere, while the finish is gently yet confidently bittered by a seemingly 'noble', very floral and spicy hoppiness, blending well with the grainy aspects of the rye, the bready yeastiness and the lingering spicy phenols and fruity esters. Overcarbonated even for what is essentially a below-average-strength Belgian blonde, sure, but the flavours are very well connected and balanced; it does convey a certain tripel-like fullness in spite of its low strength (comparable to e.g. Westmalle Extra), which is a 'tour de force' in its own right. This is my second Braxatorium Parcensis beer and the second time I am pleasantly surprised - this is classic Belgian style brewing (in spite of the American hops) I can certainly appreciate. I would even go as far as to say that this brewery - so far in my limited experience with it - manages to live up to the expectations one would (traditionally) have of brewing in monasteries. I heard that the norbertine monks of Grimbergen are working on a similar project and I would not be surprised if more abbeys follow. The global beer revolution has several effects in Belgium, with American style craft brewing more often than not clashing with the old local traditions, but one of these effects is that we are gradually returning to a situation where every village has its own brewery (as was the case a century and more ago - there were more than 2000 breweries in Belgium in 1920, for instance); if this trend of monks taking up brewing themselves again continues, then this too will, in a way, restitute a historical situation of much more than just a century ago. I can only hope that I will live to tell. --- Beer merged from original tick of Braxatorium Parcensis Quirinus 1st Rogge on 30 Jan 2021 at 15:53 - Score: Appearance - 6 | Aroma - 7 | Flavor - 7 | Texture - 6 | Overall - 7. Original review text: Intended as the first low alcohol tripel, which is of course a contradictio in terminis, this is one of several beers already developed by the well-known Parkabdij, a norbertine abbey near Leuven which started brewing in their own microbrewery (installed on the abbey's own premises - importantly!) in 2017. Brewed with rye and malted wheat and hopped with Lubelski (a traditional Czech variety), Willamette and Nugget (both American varieties from the seventies and thus among the pioneering New World hops). Initially towering high, foamy head, egg-white, thickly plaster-like lacing and densely mousy, diminishing slowly over a misty deep golden beer with ochre-ish tinge and a whirlwind of sparkles storming through the glass, sustaining this long-lasting head. Aroma of cold camomile tea, lemon zest, green banana, strong minerals (further enhanced by the high degree of carbon dioxide initially), freshly baked white bread, apple peel, dried lemonbalm somewhere, hint of pineapple, some vague soap, green pear, dried thyme. Fruity, very spritzy onset, strong minerality both from the carbon dioxide and from the brewing water itself (carbonated sparkling water effect), banana peel, pear and light pineapple notes but elegantly refraining from too much sweetness; rounded body, not quite betraying its low alcohol volume, with a nice bready malt 'fluffiness', a dim underlying rye spiciness and a soft wheat soapiness, but the latter remains very limited and even if this soapy effect remains noticeable to the finish, it does not become all witbier-like (despite the beer being brewed in the larger historical witbier region - though they can of course brew anything they want there). The banana ester travels along but does not dominate anywhere, while the finish is gently yet confidently bittered by a seemingly 'noble', very floral and spicy hoppiness, blending well with the grainy aspects of the rye, the bready yeastiness and the lingering spicy phenols and fruity esters. Overcarbonated even for what is essentially a below-average-strength Belgian blonde, sure, but the flavours are very well connected and balanced; it does convey a certain tripel-like fullness in spite of its low strength (comparable to e.g. Westmalle Extra), which is a 'tour de force' in its own right. This is my second Braxatorium Parcensis beer and the second time I am pleasantly surprised - this is classic Belgian style brewing (in spite of the American hops) I can certainly appreciate. I would even go as far as to say that this brewery - so far in my limited experience with it - manages to live up to the expectations one would (traditionally) have of brewing in monasteries. I heard that the norbertine monks of Grimbergen are working on a similar project and I would not be surprised if more abbeys follow. The global beer revolution has several effects in Belgium, with American style craft brewing more often than not clashing with the old local traditions, but one of these effects is that we are gradually returning to a situation where every village has its own brewery (as was the case a century and more ago - there were more than 2000 breweries in Belgium in 1920, for instance); if this trend of monks taking up brewing themselves again continues, then this too will, in a way, restitute a historical situation of much more than just a century ago. I can only hope that I will live to tell.