My second Feniks beer, again many thanks to Gino and Kurt. Gusher, but manageable. Lightly lacing, coarse but moussy, egg-white, fairly thick head with beige tinge, retaining well; immediately cloudy rust brown robe with reddish burgundy hue, turning darker and more ’muddy’ with sediment (which consists of undissolved bits of pale brown ’coffee cream’ lingering on top of the foam, apparently). Aroma of honey, banana mush, candied cherry ’pralines’, ruby port, cloves, baked pear, caramel candy, ginger powder, black pepper, iron, melting brown candi sugar, plum wine, fainter hints of aniseed, peppermint leaves even, damp earth, canned peaches, marmelade, cookie dough, soggy brownies, old milk chocolate bars, almond, hazelnut paste, some fresh basil and very vague horse steak. Sweet onset, lots of banana ester, even quite strongly ’bubblegummy’, hints of peach, pineapple and brambleberry with a sourish edge to it, fizzy carbo (a bit numbing even) coarsening an otherwise smooth, ’fluffy’ mouthfeel. Very caramelly malt sweet middle with a very noticeable, though not too disturbing metallic edge, honeyish sweetness of residual white candi sugar syrup on top while the fruity (especially banana) esteriness persists, clove-like phenolic effects towards the end, on the brink of turning a bit medicinal but fortunately not crossing that line; sweetness goes on till the very end without becoming sticky at any point. Finish adds yeasty earthiness (especially after adding the sediment, obviously) and a dash of herbal, damp tea leaf-like hoppiness, which however refrains from offering the much-needed bitter balance against the sweetness. Ends with a port- and slightly rum-like warming alcohol effect, though this alcohol behaves rather nicely and does not become all too obnoxious. Candi sugar, caramel and banana sweetness go down into the throat with that careful herbal hop bitterish touch. Very estery and phenolic, with a candi sugar sweetness that will appeal to the masses: this is very clearly a classically conceived Belgian dubbel and not at all a brown ale in the Anglo-Saxon sense of the word; the subscription "brown ale" under the name is therefore to be ignored - and advised against, as this will only create confusion among beer geeks. As a dubbel, though, this performs well; a bit overcarbonated, gushing and too sweet, but nevertheless offering a rather complex array of refined aromas without any off-flavours, though sweetness remains dominant in both nose and mouth. I firmly believe that this will appeal to a larger (primarily Belgian) audience, but for me personally, I’d rather have received a true, clean Anglo-Saxon brown ale than yet another sweet and utterly Belgian dubbel. I do, however, enjoy the fact that this bottle introduced me to a Billie Holiday song I hadn’t heard before...

Imperial oatmeal stout, my first beer from this brand new micro brewery near Kortrijk in western Flanders, thanks Gino and Kurt - the first of which was apparently the brewmaster of Québec’s Unibroue before Sleeman took over, and subsequently returned to Belgium to turn the old Riva into Liefmans Breweries, which eventually went bankrupt. Curious to find out more about the range he brews now in his own settlement, hopefully many echoes from Unibroue, which, surpassed as it may be today, was among the first breweries in Canada to jump start the craft beer revolution there. This one opens under quite a lot of pressure and gushes, so be ware, though the gushing is slow enough to limit the loss of beer to a minimum. Medium thick, pale beige head, quickly settling to a firm, regular, well-retaining rim and a thin greyish ’island’ in the middle but eventually all but vanishing; blackish colour with hazy mahogany brown edges, the coloration being visible for about one centimeter off the edge before vanishing into utter darkness. Quite strong bouquet of a lot of very aromatic, overpowering liquorish, even liquorish candy, followed by more sedate impressions of butterscotch and melting caramel candy, Belgian chocolates made with ’fondant’ chocolate, brown rum, ruby port, coffee liqueur, raisins, strong baked banana, wodka, wet leather, hazelnut oil, honey peeping through subtly, stewed plums, burnt toast, cloves, glue. Fruity onset, estery (a bit much so for the style) with hints of ripe pear, dried banana and blueberry, but retaining itself thanks to balancing, ’deep’ sourishness and a (very) slight touch of beefy umami, though a candied fruit sweetness dominates; carbonation is delicate but determined and a bit too spritzy for the style (unsurprising seen the gushing effect), numbing the tip of the tongue a bit. A thick, rather syrupy mouthfeel is somewhat coarsened by this overcarbonation, which is a bit of a shame. Thick, ’fat’ maltiness ensues, mouth-filling but still tingling too much from the sharp carbo, and feeling less oily than it could and should have been for a 10% stout especially since oatmeal has been used and does try to effectuate a creaminess to the whole, which can be felt through the carbonation; in all, though, mouthfeel is more quad-like than imperial stout-like. The flavour is a noble, butterscotch-like sweet at first, thoroughly nutty as well, before turning into a deeper toasted bitterness, though the caramel sweetness never quite goes away; meanwhile the banana ester notes linger a bit, though not disturbingly so, and the liquorish effect from the nose shows up in full armour, attacking the nose retronasally with great force, almost blotting out the qualities of the malt beneath. Since no liquorish has actually been used, I guess this effect is a mixture of clove-like (or in other ways spicy) phenols and nutty malts; it keeps dominating the finish till the end, supported by an almost tea-ish herbal hop bitterness. Earthy yeastiness is added in the very end - including more outspoken clove phenols - and the throat is heated by a wodka-like alcohol effect, becoming a tad wry in the very end. In all, a meritorious attempt, but still very Belgian: as the international craft beer movement penetrates this country more and more, more and more imperial stout attempts will be made, but like IPA, they will get stuck in the middle, unable to shake off the clichés of Belgian fermentation; this does not necessarily lead to failed beers of course, but I think it will be only a matter of time before beer connoisseurs come up with a term like "Belgian imperial stout" (already used by a number of breweries in the States) and if this will ever happen, this Jazz’ Black Oatmeal Delight has all the chances of becoming a classic example of it, along with several others. If you forget the clean character of Anglo-Saxon ’impies’ and are willing to accept a strong Belgian quadrupel-like character in your big stouts, this will be your beer. I, for one, would rather have seen a big black stout without any trace of Belgian esters or phenols, because I am still waiting for that being made within the borders of this small country.

Bottle. pours clear blonde, huge white head. Smell is mild bitter. Bit malts, some yeast. Taste is indeed in the style of a Duvel. It comes rather close, actually. some sharp, very clean bitterness, as well as the malty flavor you’ll find in a duvel. Very well done !

Pours rather unclear amber, very big white head. Smell is bit hoppy. Nice ambermalty background. Taste is decently bitter. nice crispy ambermalty. Very decent beer. i like drinkin’ this, I enjoy the taste, even the MF . But indeed, it is not an IPA. At least they’re honest, and I can see the clear comparency to the style ,as it is more hoppy than an amber ale.