Alengrin
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Alengrin
updated a beer:
Porter Koffie Infused
brewed by Lambiek Brouwerij en Geuzestekerij 't Pomphuizeke
7 months ago
Alengrin
updated a brewery:
Lambiek Brouwerij en Geuzestekerij 't Pomphuizeke
located in Belgium
7 months ago
Appearance - 8 | Aroma - 8 | Flavor - 7.5 | Texture - 8 | Overall - 7
Like some other lambic producers do, see e.g. Oud Beersel's Bersalis or even old Girardin's Ulrich Lager, Pomphuizeke has this 'non-lambic' beer in its portfolio, completely unrelated to all the interesting lambic blendings they do - something which may come across as a bit confusing considering the front label explicitly defines Pomphuizeke (now official after a dozen years of home blending) as a "lambiekbrouwerij en geuzestekerij"... Anyway, this one was apparently brewed in the Netherlands - not unsurprisingly considering the many 'beery' relations Pomphuizeke founder (and only employee) John Versyck has there - so it remains the odd one out in the range also from that point of view. Enthusiastic to get out of the bottle so be ware - but no gushing at least in my case. Initially glass-filling, towering, thickly and irregularly plaster-like lacing, greyish pale beige, uneven-bubbled, frothy head resting very stable on an initially clear, very dark mahogany brown robe, looking near black but with burgundy-red glow under bright light, misty with sediment. Aroma of lingonberries, fresh fig, toffee, dried peach, caramel, cold cappuccino, medium dry sherry, ferrous spring water, pear, dark chocolate below, toasted cashew nuts, whiffs of tonic water, pipe tobacco ashes, green coffee beans, sedge, fresh bayleaf. Fruity in the onset with notes of ripe blackberries, lingonberries and elderberries, side hints of fig and dried cherries, sweetish but nowhere actually sweet, with a dim sourish undertone reinforced by the very active carbonation; then a smooth but fairly full body unfolds, a bit caramelly at the start but not sweet, brown-bread-crusty, quickly moving into roasted bitter territory, almost 'skipping' the toffeeish phase I tend to expect in beers like this - but indeed becoming full-fledged toasty and a bit ashy, with subtle earthy notes lingering about. The dried and dark fruitiness is all but gone by that point, but a confident dosage of leafy, earthy, almost wormwoody hop bitterness takes over, aligning itself with the - to today's standards - quite pronounced roasted bitterness. More interesting than it may seem at first glance: starts off with an alluring nose of red fruit and sherry, kicks off fruity and soft in the mouth but then moves to full-on bitterness both on the roasted front and on the hoppy front, leaving no trace of this 'friendly' red fruitiness in its wake. The added coffee, already contributing to this bitterness early on, extends far beyond everything else in this beer apart from that rooty hop bitterness - in a way that is both astringently (yet still pleasantly) bitter and aromatic. Certainly bitter and roasty enough to qualify as a dry (or indeed coffee) stout as well, but then the difference between porter and stout has never been clear cut and it definitely is not clear cut anymore today, so who cares. A clever move to offer this oldskool, smooth, dry and roasty porter next to all those lambic blends that make up this project's core business. Enjoyed it, cheers John!
Alengrin
updated a beer:
Sureau Rullquin
brewed by Gueuzerie Tilquin
7 months ago
Alengrin (11609) reviewed Sureau Rullquin from Gueuzerie Tilquin 7 months ago
Appearance - 8 | Aroma - 8 | Flavor - 8.5 | Texture - 9 | Overall - 8
Similarly to Mûre Rullquin and Cassis Rullquin, this is a 'fruited' version of classic Rullquin, created in 2022 and making use of elderberrry; I somehow missed it back then so I was very happy to stumble upon a remaining bottle for sale at Het Huis van de Geuze. Medium thick, regularly shaped, tiny-bubbled, pale greyish beige, steady ring for a head with flat 'islands' floating around in the middle but all dissolving after a while; very dark cherry red robe - in fact looking almost blackish - with a fiery ruby glow, a dark and mysterious hue. Aroma of indeed elderberries - actual fresh elderberries picked straight from the bush like I did so often in my youth, even that somewhat unpleasantly herbal but interesting scent of elder leaves and even - faraway in the background - a vague note of the sweet elderberry 'jenever' my late grandmother made many a decade ago, also impressions of dark plum and blackberry, fruit yoghurt, brown bread crust, sourdough, wet wood, green apple slices, toast, forest floor, dry earth or humus, some Japanese dried fruit tea, young beech leaves, background hints of funky sweat, chlorine, wood bluegrass. Crisply tart, berry-laden onset, lots of astringent green plum and unripe peach effects underneath a softer, 'sweeter', juicier elderberry dosage, generous but still leaving room for the lambic's own flavours to unfold; yet when pushing the tongue against the roof of the mouth, that tangy, tannic yet slightly sweet, herbal flavour of elderberries becomes omnipresent for a moment - making me muse again about the way elderberries were used by my grandmothers on the countryside in days long gone, because the flavour of not just ripe elderberries but also of that old homemade elderberry syrup are brought back from deep memory. Carbonation is quite prickly and stingy, but this fits well with the tangy character of the berries and the tartness of the lambic. Lactic acidity runs like a stream through it all and acts like a conveyor belt to carry along all the fruitiness over a malty floor, with some breadiness from the lambic but also, and much stronger, a brown bread and even slight toast effect from the dark Rulles that actually makes up the major part of the basic blend (but in all honesty and under the motto of "Brett eats everything", the much smaller portion of lambic is, as in the other variants, equally strong as the Rulles Brune). Woody notes set in as a 'broad' toasty bitter malt effect forms a supporting stage (lingering beyond everything else in the end and presumably justifying the "sour stout" classification here); some sweaty funk from Brettanomyces pops up along with that 'forest floor'-like earthiness all these Rullquin variants have - making for a complex ending, in which the 'dark fruitiness' of the elderberries still plays the leading role. Retronasally, I get something sherry-like as well, possibly an ageing effect, but it too seems steeped in elderberries - like an oxidized elderberry wine, though I admittedly have no idea what that is supposed to taste like. In any case: this is one complex concoction, an almost traditionally conceived 'bière de coupage' (Rullquin) embellished with a generous dosage of real elderberries, which are shown in every aspect they are capable of, from wild-picked actual berries over herbal elder leaves to homemade elderberry syrup (or jam, even). It seems that 'fruit lambic specialist' Tilquin is, more than any other lambic producer, capable of thoroughly extracting every facet and every component out of the fruit he uses - I had this in many of his other fruit lambics as well, whether they were also Rullquin variants or not. One to sample carefully sip by sip - you will discover something new each time. Glad I bought this one - and glad it has aged for three years now, doubtlessly this has only brought improvement. Looking forward to those new coffee variants of Rullquin too now - but perhaps those too need a couple of years in the cellar first...
Appearance - 7 | Aroma - 7.5 | Flavor - 8 | Texture - 9 | Overall - 6.5
The latest Grapevine to my knowledge, using Souvignier Gris grapes, a variety created in Germany in 1983, known in oenological circles for its tropical and stonefruit aromas; the grapes in question were harvested in the Hageland region in Flemish Brabant (and partially Limburg). Thin but well-knitted, off-white, tiny-bubbled, immediately opening head initially retaining around the edge in a thin ring and some shards in the middle but then dissolving completely; hazy peach blonde robe with merigold hue. Aroma of green plums in spring, dandelion, unripe nectarine, white wine must, a weird and relatively strong whiff of chlorine or the pheromones of a fruit fly even though no fruit fly was drowning in my glass (I double checked), young wormwood, rainwater, dry wood, sorrel, hay, hints of unripe pineapple, old dry crackers, grass, wet dog, sweat. Tart, fruity onset, the mellow sourness of green apple and not quite ripe stonefruit like plum or nectarine mingled with something unripe pineapple-like and the wryness of grape skins, moderately carbonated (certainly no geuze-like effervescence, rather the soft carb of a bottle-conditioned unblended lambic) with smooth, vinous mouthfeel. Bread-crusty core under strongly astringent lactic acidity, carrying this 'green' fruitiness further while the 'grapeyness' develops, though less sweetly and juicily so than I was anticipating (as compared with earlier vintages); a dry white wine and grape must effect is of course clearly present, next to very strong tannic woodiness and an old dry sherry effect - which, along with that chlorine-like effect returning, clearly hint at some form of aged lambic. The most distinct feature here, however, is a wry, 'green' bitterness spreading out in the finish, partially hoppy in nature I reckon, but also linked to this chlorine-like scent and, seemingly, the skins and seeds of the Souvignier Gris grapes. In fact, this bitterness is more a kind of 'green' wryness reminiscent of green bitter weeds (mugwort, dandelion) or indeed unripe grapes - grapes that have lacked sunlight and warmth, or even time to grow on the vine. I took me a whole bottle to get used to this wry, bitter 'aftertaste' and I did not like that chlorine-ish aroma at all, but structurally this is still an interesting concoction, especially considering it was made with their own aged 'Spierelambiek' - and possibly aged lambic from the actual lambic region, though this remains undisclosed. I recall previous editions to be fruitier, juicier and far less bitter - more akin to 'real' grape lambic, arguably, so that for me, this Souvignier Gris edition is so far the least successful of the lot. I hasten to add that I sadly missed out on the Chasselas Blanc one, however, so I hope this 'cépage' will be revisited somewhere in the coming years, like they did with Montepulciano.
Alengrin
added a new beer
Grapevine - Souvignier Gris
by
Brouwerij De Ranke
7 months ago
Appearance - 6 | Aroma - 8 | Flavor - 7.5 | Texture - 8 | Overall - 7
Pastry stout by one of Missouri's leading craft breweries (alongside Side Project, Moortgat-owned Boulevard, Narrow Gauge and others) and one that has impressed me on more than one occasion, so I have been looking forward to this one ever since I bought the can at DeApotheek three months ago. Apparently intended to mimic tiramisu so with Perennial's great skills in mind, what can go wrong? In any case this luscious 'dessert beer' contains not just the cocoa nibs we have already encountered in other contemporary stouts, but also actual chocolate sauce, apart from coffee beans and vanilla beans (and of course lactose). Moussey, greyish pale beige, audibly fizzing, loosely knit 'head' quickly dissolving into a waferthin greyish ring and eventually nothing - only a bit more stable than the 'head' on a glass of coke, as it were; pitch black robe with thin ochre-brownish edge about two millimeters off the edge, and thin patches of some kind of ochre-hued 'sludge' at the bottom when emptying the glass - not just yeast, but very likely remnants of the added ingredients. I have not seen anything exactly like this in all those years of beer tasting and I am still a bit taken aback whenever I encounter something as 'physically distinct' as this in any beer, even though in this particular case, it only appears in the very end and is less scary than some of the other 'visual effects' I stumbled upon so far. Indeed "indulgent" aroma of molten 'fondant' chocolate bars, hazelnut paste, chocolate cookies, some background vanilla but largely faded by now, milk powder, fudge, whipped cream, stracciattella ice cream (rather than tiramisu), Tia Maria coffee liqueur, 'profiteroles', vague background hints of brown bread dough, marsala, nutmeg, minerals. Very sweet onset as can be expected from the style, creamy but not overly sticky, hinting at candied cherries, dates and pear with a dash of very ripe blackberries somewhere, softly carbonated with very thick, dense, creamy mouthfeel - fat slabs of caramel, hazelnut paste and, above all, chocolate gliding heavily over the tongue, with the chocolate part being filled with 'fondant' chocolate bars and chocolate sauce made with them. Lactose sweetness rules everywhere and obviously increases creaminess a lot; more subtle impressions include pistacchio, fig syrup and the actually added vanilla, which, though clearly diminished already, is still very much recognisable. The coffee effect lies in an aromatically bitterish, roasty accent at the back, but it is not nearly strong enough to counter the sticky sweetness of the whole; hops too play only a supporting role behind the scenes but remain, as such, unnoticeable in the flavour. Lots of chocolate and cream, along with cookie dough and coffee powder dominate the finish, all highlighted by warming, liqueurish but - given the bold features of this style in general - not too obnoxious alcohol, despite the fact that its heat and wryness are, in the end, unmistakable. So is the cloying creamy sweetness of the sugars, though - making this audacious pastry stout anything but subtle. Pastry stouts are about the least 'drinkable' of beer styles, if you consider 'drinkability' in the most literal sense of the word, but this one is really cumbersome, to be taken in slowly and in small sips after a good meal, I guess. Very filling, very creamy and very sweet, this overly indulgent pastry stout does live up to the overall expectations surrounding the style - so I generally recommend it to the adepts of these syrupy sugar stouts, but for me it is just a bit too much; the sticky sweetness and heavy creaminess are exaggerated for me and I had to 'plough' through the content of the can in order to write this review. On top of that: I had tiramisu on many occasions in Italian restaurants throughout the years, and I am not sure if this very specific dessert would be the first I would think of in a blind tasting of pastry stouts - as a matter of fact I had Polish pastry stouts which approached the typical tiramisu flavours more accurately than this one. So what to do with this one? A thick, sugary, syrupy pastry stout the way present-day consumers expect it to be, that much is certain - so Perennial surely manages to meet their consumers' expectations, at least if they do not take the tiramisu intentions too literally; but for me personally, this is just too thick, sugary and syrupy, hindering drinkability even within the peculiarities of the style. Conceptually okay and technically well done, but I prefer any of their Abraxas variants over this any time, I must say...
Appearance - 6 | Aroma - 6.5 | Flavor - 7 | Texture - 7 | Overall - 7
Special edition of the regular La Trappe Blond, the ordinary Belgian style blonde ale replacing the original (dark) Enkel in a move comparable with what Westvleteren did in the late nineties; this special one is, however, distinguished by the use of three extra grain species, namely oats, rye and wheat, which are not present in the all-barley Blond. Comes from a fancy 75 cl bottle with cork, muselet and embossed label. Medium thick, off-white, thickly shred-lacing, breaking and (very) irregularly retaining, yet eventually very much thinning head on an initially crystal clear, warm 'metallic' orange-golden robe with fierce strings of sparkling rising up from the bottom of the glass, turning misty and a bit deeper orangey with sediment. Aroma of banana-flavoured bubblegum (strong!), dried peach, industrial honey cookies, raw sweet potato, turnip, white bread from the supermarket, wet flour, sweet apple (peel), hints of grass, clove, cold tea, candied apricot, old rubber, rainwater. Sweetish onset with a lot of isoamylacetate (bubblegum and banana), hints of candied peach or apricot and vague red apple, sharply carbonated with 'prickly' minerally effects, smooth-bodied (with part of that smoothness doubtlessly coming from the oats here). Cereally core, grainy with indeed a bit more than just graininess, namely a soapy wheat slickness and oatmeal smoothness - and perhaps, with some goodwill, a very vague background dash of rye spicy-breadiness, but less so than in e.g. the conceptually comparable first edition of Karmeliet Grand Cru, to name another industrial ale using these four grains. Boring slick graininess predominates, however, with this annoying bubblegumminess sticking to it - the rest is so detailed and subtle that it seems to stand no chance to fully develop. Continuing 'simple' (primarily banana) fruitiness in the finishing stage, gradually bittered by a leafy hoppiness underlying the banana ester and the grains. It remains a simple, dull, dried-weed-like bitterness, though, with a somewhat rubbery side effect - and amplified by something far more irritating, namely quite badly hidden, wry, even somewhat 'jenever'-ish alcohol with a slightly astringent effect on the root of the tongue. This should never be the case in a 7% ABV beer and given that this is a trappist beer, something which set the standard for ale brewing in the Low Countries in the 19th and 20th centuries, this is one flaw that greatly surprises me. If I am honest, I never really liked La Trappe Blond (nor Tripel) for the same reasons that disappoint me in this one: too shallow, too sweet, too bubblegummy and 'industrial', like some big macro product. La Trappe has always been the most 'commercial' and opportunistic of the traditional trappist breweries and that shows in the Blond - but sadly also in this special edition, which uses the added grain species so frugally that they make only a minor difference, even though their presence is certainly noticeable to those who know what to look for (and the 'aftertaste' here is certainly more bready than expected, just too bad that this pleasant breadiness is not manifested at an earlier stage when tasting). A side-by-side tasting with the regular Blond would be very interesting here, because on top of the fact that the special grains only make a fairly subtle difference, the alcohol is a bit astringent in this one too, and I do not remember this from the regular Blond (though it has admittedly been many, many years since I had that one). All due respect for the monks - who I presume have even less to do with the brewing process of the La Trappe beers now than was the case a few decades ago - but this is, all things considered, a rather bland, mass-oriented offering (in spite of it being a "special edition") reminiscent of indeed the first Karmeliet Grand Cru I already mentioned, and I am not even sure if beats that one only because it has the 'authentic' trappist product label on it... Still, for that nicely bready aftertaste only and nothing else, one notch above the regular Blond for me.
Appearance - 8 | Aroma - 8 | Flavor - 8 | Texture - 8 | Overall - 8.5
More and more lambic producers experiment with lambics that have been aged on barrels that still contain remnants of another kind of beverage - a trend no doubt pushed forward by the whole barrel ageing hype in stouts and ales of all kinds, but already pioneered by Cantillon, more often than not the pioneer in lambic experimentation back then, in 2007 with the first batch of 50°N-4°E. Tilquin recently contributed to this trend with two different 'whisky lambics', one 'clean' and one peated; apparently this clean one is the rarer of the two, with only 1173 bottles produced (not numbered). High pressure on the bottle, but with slow and careful opening, gushing is avoidable. Medium sized, egg-white, fine-bubbled, gradually breaking and thinning head on a misty, warm yellow-golden blonde robe with ochre-ish tinge and lots of 'champenoise' sparkling rushing through, equally apricot-hued hazy further on. Complex aroma of unripe plum, wrinkled autumn apples, old dry oak wood or oak furniture, purple gooseberry, a 'warm' and fragrant whisky scent (indeed not peated - rather Speyside-like), wet limestone, preserved lemons, horseblanket Brett, wet leather, fried black olive hint, aged Parmigiano, orange juice going a bit sour by lactic infection, dry haystack, very vague and volatile note of green tomato, demi-sec champagne, stewed rhubarb, dandelion leaves, dry farmland in summer. Spritzy, fruity onset, sour apple, green plum, gooseberry and a touch of cucumber with this restrained sweetish peachy hint provided by the whisky on top, somewhat softening and mitigating the lambic sours - but only subtly so, contrary to some other 'whisky geuzes' I had before. Lambrusco-level effervescence, meanwhile, provides underlying minerally effects that last throughout, as a refreshing background effect; overhead a soft, lean, mellow body develops, with a lovely breadiness pierced by fruity lactic sourness but acquiring whisky notes early on - warming, softening (in a way, very subtly sweetening) and deepening the flavours, with a vaguely orange and plum juice-like effect as a net result, plus something more 'vinous'. Woodiness provides a dryish foundation in the last stages, with a vanilla-like touch retronasally, light but present, due to the whisky; it mingles with lovely Bretty funkiness (leather, damp hay, stable) and spreads out over the root of the tongue along with the warmth of the whisky. Sour fruit and earthy features abound as well, so that in all, the whisky remains graciously embedded inside the lambic rather than overpowering it, like I experienced a few times before in similar products from other producers (these are easy to guess I suppose - the 'whisky geuze' record is still a very young and very limited one). I am still a bit in doubt whether these whisky geuzes are truly my cup of tea, to be honest - but if this new substyle (if you can call it that) develops further at the quality level this relative rarity exhibits, then I will certainly keep track of them. This one manages to fully preserve all the subtleties, the earthy and funky features and the natural character of the lambics used whilst 'infusing' them with a whisky effect that remains elegant and gentle, clearly present for sure, but not to the extent that it disrupts the complexity and craftmanship that is a well-blended geuze. A true gem.