Fire at De Dolle

Joe Stange is reporting (at his Thirsty Pilgrim blog) that there has been a fire at the beloved De Dolle brewery in Esen, Belgium. Apparently a basement fuel tank exploded. One employee is reported injured. Bad news. My thoughts -- and yours, I'm sure -- are with the families involved; there's time to worry about the beer later.

Genever returns to the bar

Ever had genever? You've probably had gin, but it's likely you haven't had genever. The Dutch/Belgian version of gin, the earliest form of commercial gin, has not been popular in America for centuries -- a damned shame, cuz genever is good stuff. It's grainy, it's got more body than gin, it's not as piney as gin, and mostly, you drink it straight up, and you know...I like that.

That's me on the left, liking it, having a Belgian genever at 't Dreupelkot in Ghent last spring. They serve it so full, right up to the very brim, that you kind of have to take that first sip right off the bar, and then pick up the glass. That's their genever menu on the bar beside the glass; you can see how many genevers they have...and that's just one side of the menu.

I don't remember if they had Bols Genever or not. 't Dreupelkot is the kind of place that might not have Bols because it's too ubiquitous (and too Dutch...). Bols claims to be the oldest spirit brand in the world, though they've kind of hidden their genever light under a basket in the U.S.; I knew Bols as a bottler of blue curaçao, the bright blue, orange-flavored liqueur that was an ingredient in a drink we called "Tidi-Bols," along with a depth charge-sized slug of vodka and 7-Up to top up. Anything to get drunk, back in those hazy post-college days.

But Bols has been making genever since 1820, and they've brought it back to the U.S. recently, with a big launch in New York and San Francisco. They're pushing it as a cocktail ingredient, and I'm sure it's a good one. But I hear people put bourbon in cocktails, too, and that's never impressed me much either. Okay, maybe a little. But I'd rather just drink the stuff.

I remember talking with Steve Beaumont at Dreupelkot, as we sipped genevers and watched people "eat" advocaat, a kind of booze pudding made from brandy, eggs, sugar, and flavorings. The bar had a crazy rainbow of flavored advocaats, and you get a little cup and eat it with a utensil that looks something like the plastic coffee stirrers you get at McDonald's. We were both thinking that a genever and advocaat bar would be a can't-miss proposition in Manhattan...which probably proves how many genevers we'd had. Still...genever and booze pudding? I think we might have been right. With this Bols launch, maybe we'll find out.

Top Ten: Favorite Cities

The monthly not-usually-drink-related Lew's Top Ten. This month, a truly off-the-top-of-my-head list of the cities and towns I most like to visit or have most enjoyed on a single visit. Thoroughly me-centric, and I'm not anywhere near as well-traveled as I'd like to be...but it's what I've got. As always, the list is unranked, in the order I happened to write them down, and as I've done in the past, I cheated a little by shoving some close cities together.

1. Portland, Maine. The first time I drove into Portland, it was 72°, blue sky with a few clouds, and I bought a paper and looked at the want ads. Just a marvelous city, surrounded by water, fed by the water (and B&M Beans), and blessed with some solid beer joints. A little gem.




2. Chicago. Cathy and I have been enjoying the blazes out of Chicago for quite a few years now, thanks to WhiskyFest Chicago and our good friends, George and Sue Sarmiento, both Chicago natives who have shown us some of the fun to be had there (and Frank E., and Terry and Monica Sullivan...yeah, all you guys). Great museums, the Lake, the German joints (and Polish joints, and Ukrainian joints, and Swedish joints, and Irish joints...), and some truly excellent beer spots. A great city to walk around in, to dine in, to have a hell of a time in.

3. San Francisco. Simply gorgeous, in a way most cities only hope for. The Bay's a wonderful window on the world (and Oakland), the bridges are inspiring, and there are bars here that have been serving for well over a century. The people are very interesting and friendly (friendlier than I remember from the 1980s, actually), the food is outstanding, and the romance is palpable.
4. Portland, Oregon. Only been once, can't wait to return. Portland has a smaller beauty, and an intense desire to better itself that is much more appealing than it sounds. One of the best beer scenes in the world, of course (although believe me, guys...we know you know...), and a happy worn-in attitude about it.

5. Bamberg. How can you not like a town with so many good breweries, so much history and preserved architecture, walkable and beautiful? I'd go back every year if I could.






6. Toronto. Good beer in excellent places, great transit, old buildings, the St. Lawrence Market, and vibe just shimmering off it. And of course, The Lake, right there, which Toronto makes the most of. Love visiting this town, any month of the year.








7. Düsseldorf/Köln. I picked both to avoid the arguments, yes. Hate to disappoint the folks who told me to skip Köln (and kölsch) and just stay in D-dorf and drink altbier: I love both, and I particularly love the places they're served. Actually, if I were going to go on where they're served, Köln might have a slight edge, if only because of numbers. But truly, both wonderful places, -- not just for beer, for people and architecture and setting and history -- and I'm hoping to make them a yearly visit.




8. Ghent. I really am picking Ghent over Brussels, after only one visit to each. It may be because I was a bit overwhelmed by Brussels (may be that I was a bit over-served there...), but mostly it's the canals and the look of Ghent. I'm a sucker for water, and Ghent has so much of it. It's also of a more manageable size than Brussels for a first-time visit. My opinion may well change (especially after I get to Brugge), but for now: top ten.


9. Madison. Spectacular lake setting, and when it's really on, it's beautiful here. The people are wonderful, the beer culture is the closest thing to Germany I've encounted in the U.S., and the brewpubs rock. Another town I'd re-locate to in a heartbeat.

10. Washington/Baltimore. I hate the heat, I despise humidity. These towns can be miserable with it. But I love them; DC for the bustle, the international character and attractions of such a relatively small city, the Smithsonian, the embassies, and all the goings-on. Baltimore is special for its real personality, a town that has as much individual character as Boston or New York, some great beer bars and brewpubs, a gorgeous ballpark, and the whole harborside thing, and the exceptional seafood. Always happy to visit these towns; need to do that again soon.

A relic of Belgium, for the folks at DC-beer...

Just a little fun...it's for those who know. For those who don't, well, be thankful I don't do more in-jokes, and let it slide!

Orval: I've never had this beer before (or maybe I have)

I'm working on some stuff for Ale Street News this morning -- the first entry in my new, as yet untitled column for ASN -- but I wanted to take a moment to talk about one wonderful thing that happened when I was in Belgium. Actually, it happened several times: I finally had Orval.

Before you react in astonishment, yes, I've bought and drank bottles of Orval. But after realizing that A)none of them ever tasted even vaguely similar; and B)people I respected told me that it was a completely different beer fresh, I decided that I'd just stop drinking it until I got to Belgium. And I did.

So when Steve and I got to Brussels, the very first beer I bought (not counting the one glass of Hoegaarden at the comped lunch we enjoyed thanks to Flemish Tourism: fantastic mussels, the Hoegaarden was kinda eh) was an Orval at Poechenellekelder. It was a revelation. I wanted to have more, so I did, but just one; we had other places to go.

When I had time to sit and muse (on the last full day of the trip, at Het Waterhuis in Gent), I thought to myself that the thing I came to love about this fresh Orval was its simplicity. It's not a huge beer, or a layered beer, or a rich beer. It's very refreshing, without being light beer insipid: Orval's crispness comes in a much more substantial package than that. It's funky without being off-putting; a subtle brettanomyces character that doesn't insult my intelligence. It is, as Steve said, three things at once: sweet, tart, and dry. It's the combination that is the genius, and I'm afraid, the balance of these three varyingly robust elements is what makes this such a fragile beer. The first bottle I had at the Poechenellekelder was less than five weeks old, and it was nothing short of brilliant. I guess I'll just have to drink more when I go back.

(Is Orval different, has it changed? Many have said so, and decried its loss of character. Steve told me yes, how they make it has changed; certainly so. But I can't judge if it's better or worse, because of my variable at-a-distance experiences; I had my first Orval back in 1989, and it was quite a bit fizzier than this fresh stuff, more bitter, and not as much brett character; I actually remember it distinctly, remember where I bought it, where I drank it and who I was with and what we were eating, and the beer stands clear in my mind: it was not this beer...but what does that mean? All I can say is that I find this Orval very damned nice...and leave it at that.)

Okay, another addition to this. Stan Hieronymus picked up on this and expanded it with something Vinnie Cilurzo told him: go read it there. So... "Orval is best fresh" is personal preference. And the way it tasted differently to me every time I had it...is the way it works. Brett is a many-splendored thing, and it takes a long time to work, and it never sleeps. I should not be surprised when it tastes differently, or disappointed. I'll work on that. (Although I'm still happy to drink it in Belgium, particularly at the price.)

I'm not afraid to admit my ignorance in this. This is why I make these trips, at not-insignificant personal expense, and not always for a particular assignment (although I sold a number of stories on this one, happily). I do it to learn, to fill in the gaps (the same as many of you). With luck, I'll keep learning the rest of my life, and I'll happily share it with you.

Lunch in Dendermonde

Wow. I had a serious lunch with the Bosteels, Ivo and his son Antoine. Steve and I trained to Belgium from Germany this morning (no big deal, thanks to the ICE train, about 2 hours and across the border, ho-hum), then took a local to Dendermonde, where Ivo met us and threw our luggage in the back of his Benz SUV and hurtled down the roads to Buggenhout, where the brewery has been since 1791. Really.

This is the brewery that produces Pauwel Kwak, Tripel Karmeliet, and DeuS. You may never have heard of the brewery; they take pains to make the name of the beers important, not the brewery, or, in fact, themselves. "We are not important. The beer is important." says Ivo. "We are a service, the brewery, we are in service to the beer." Steve and I turned to each other at one point and said, "The man is a quote factory," which he is, because his passion for brewing shines through like hot summer sunshine.

The picture above is Ivo holding up two glasses of beer. Take a look at them. Click on the pic and look at them close up. They are the same beer. Ivo did this to show what a difference the glass makes. That's Karmeliet Tripel in its own glass (on the left) and the Kwak glass on the right. You'd think they were two different beers. This goes to show that the different glasses for different beers are not just marketing. They show -- and smell, and taste -- the beers just how they were meant to be.

Anyway, the lunch. We went to 't Truffeltje in Dendermonde, a place Ivo and Antoine said they only went to two or three times a year...it is a Michelin one-star, and the meal was excellent. First we got an amusee bouche of a scallop in a DeuS sabayon, side-by-side with a forcemeat eel disc on greensauce: to drool for. We spooned up the excess sabayon and ate it. I must admit: I have never been a fan of DeuS. Now I understand. What a delicious beer. We had it with the seafood, and all of a sudden it made perfect sense. I get what everyone else ever said: it is crisp but complex, startling and not really one-dimensional at all. Now... was that me, or was it individual batches? I don't know. I stopped drinking it because it bored me. This was not at all boring.

We had a filet of cod with a Karmeliet sauce (did you know Karmeliet was made with oats, barley, and wheat, all both malted and unmalted?) that was excellent (see left), squab breast with Kwak sauce (with the best damned carrots I've ever had), and about three dessert courses. Woof.

Then it was back to the midst of Dendermonde, the plaza, where we had draft Karmeliet -- rather dead, and uninteresting -- at which point Ivo hustled us next door to St. Joris Cafe where we had the bottled Karmeliet: excellent.

Well...maybe there's something to this "bottled Belgian is better than draft" after all.

We finally bolted, and Ivo wound up driving us to Het Anker when we missed our train...but that's another story, and I'm exhausted right now. Must sleep.

Back to Uerige

See that picture of me I've had pinned to the top left corner of the blog since I started it, a little over a year ago? That was taken -- a little over a year ago -- at Zum Uerige, in Düsseldorf. I hope to have another one soon: I'm headed back. Stephen Beaumont recently contacted me, saying, I'm going to Düsseldorf and Belgium, wanna come along? Hell yes, I did: I, um... have never been to Belgium. True. So I'm going to fix that. After all, Steve's never been to Düsseldorf.

The fun thing is, what originally seemed like a problem -- a trade fair in Düsseldorf made it impossible to find a hotel room (is there always a damned trade fair in that town?) -- turned into a plus: we decided to stay in Köln and take the train back and forth, getting us what Steve is joyfully calling 'a twofer.' So I'm essentially going to be commuting to work, something I haven't done in over ten years, unless you count walking down to my basement office (as I'm sure Ms. Anonymous will tell me doesn't count because it's not a job...thanks, toots). And when I "get home from work," I can toddle by the spectacular Dom for a couple glasses at Früh.

Ahhh, wonderful...and that's not even touching on the beauty that will be visiting Belgium: Brussels, Ghent, a couple small family breweries in the country. I'll be trying to blog some of this for you, but I may get busy. You understand, of course.

It's all part of my continuing education (without brewery sponsorship, by the way) to get to know these places, these breweries, these beers better, so I can write better. Okay, it's fun, too, but shouldn't every job be this satisfying?

(Addition: I promised Adam I'd post the two sites I used to plan that first trip to Düsseldorf and Köln: Ron Pattinson's excellent and superbly chatty European Beer Guide, and Fred Waltman's much more focused Sticke Warriors site. BTW, Adam: I fully endorse Fred's recommendation of Hotel Haus Rheinblick (the link's in German, but if you can figure out that "Reservierungsanfrage" means "reservation requests," you can probably take it from there), a very nice family-run hotel in the north half of the Altstadt, a short easy walk to the Rhine, Im Goldenen Ring is three minutes walk, Uerige is about seven minutes, Im Füchschen is about 12 minutes...and you get breakfast, too, for well under E100 a night. I can't recommend the penzione where I stayed in Köln; clean, but not particularly comfortable, in the Turkish quarter, which was fascinating (and delicious) during the day, but scary at night; we heard frightened screaming people running through the streets two nights in a row. Trying a new place this time; pricier, but close to the train station, because of the commute. Actually...I just looked at the map, and it's not closer to the station. But it is right beside Malzmühle, and it's not uphill, so I'd say it's a win.)