Tag Archives: trappist

Tasting Notes: Orval Trappist Ale, redux

Orval Trappist AleBrewery: Orval
Location: Abbey Notre-Dame d’Orval, Villers-devant-Orval, Belgium
Style: Trappist Ale
ABV: 6.2%
Version: Bottled
Source: Beermerchants.com

Orval Trappist Ale has an almost mythical status among the beer cognoscenti. Several of the UK’s top beer bloggers absolutely love Orval and Sharp’s brewmeister Stuart Howe positively worships it (with pretty spectacular results, by all accounts). Yessir, this is a beer with some pretty serious kudos and no mistake.

When yours truly first tried Orval, back in 2009, I was just getting into the whole beer blogging, serious beer drinking thing. As a result I even less well-informed and educated on the qualities of truly great beer than I am today (and although I’d like to think I’d picked up a thing or two in the meantime, I know I’m still strictly an amateur, still clambering up the lower reaches of an incredibly steep – but rather wonderful – learning curve). My shallow, callow tasting notes at the time provoked scorn from one commenter, who declared: “This is pathetic. Your palate and this whole article gives my hemorrhoids [sic] the shakes. I fear for you and the beers you drink.” Which I thought was perhaps a bit strong at the time, but still, it goes to show the levels of passion and loyalty that Orval fans are generally imbued with.

Stung a little by said comment, I made a mental note to give Orval another go (obviously I would never be a proper beer blogger unless I did) and have managed to do so twice since that first, vituperation-inducing sampling. The third time was late last year and was hopefully going to be the charm for me, resulting in some sort of moment of blinding flavour-epiphany. So I was determined to pay proper attention and make some better notes; here’s what I jotted down: “Slightly sour, herbal aroma. Dark amber-gold with a frothy, lively head. Flavours: sugared-grapefruit sourness, medicinal cough-sweet tang. After-taste of under-ripe apples with a dash of lime. Complex, deep, dynamic.”

How’s that? Am I getting it yet? Hopefully better than last time. Although, by way of general conclusion… [okay, here goes, deep breath]:

After three bottles of Orval, whilst I’m certainly learning to appreciate its finer points, I can’t say it’s completely won me over just yet. I’ll give it another couple of years, see how my palate develops, see if I can learn to appreciate the full range of nuances and finer points that Orval offers. Because believe me, I realise that it’s jam-packed full of them, it’s just they don’t seem to be the ones that chime with my personal preferences; the ones that push all my ‘WOW!’ buttons.

I like it… I just don’t love it. And I’m not sure I will any time soon. There, I’ve said it. You know where the comments are if you want to pity my palate some more…

Tasting Notes: De Achelse Kluis Trappist Achel Brune and Trappist Achel Blonde

Brewery: De Achelse Kluis
Location: Hamont-Achel, Belgium
ABV: 8%
Version: Bottled
Source: www.BeerMerchants.com

These are almost the last two bottles from the strong Belgians mixed case I bought from BeerMercants.com a while back. I reckoned they’d been sat around quite long enough – and I’d already sampled one of each, but hadn’t made any notes – so it was high time I cracked them open and actually paid proper attention this time.

Trappist Achel Blonde and Brune

Of course, I completely forgot the advice that John Clarke gave me a few weeks back re: chilling them down a bit to help with the general liveliness, so the Trappist Achel Brune, whilst not a volcanic over-the-top foam-spewer, was certainly a bit on the lively side. When I started to pour it into a tulip glass I think I achieved a ratio of something like one part body to nine parts head.

Once it had finally settled down enough for me to drink, I discovered a beer that was just incredibly, tooth-achingly sweet, with almost none of the sour edge that I’ve come to expect from the Trappist style. There was a strident, spirit-like sharpness to it, which was interesting and flavourful, but even this couldn’t dent the overall impression of mixed sugar and fruit: a combination of caramel toffee, sherry and over-ripe melon. I actually really liked it (my sweet tooth seems to be back with a vengeance) but if this one bottle is typical and wasn’t just at a weird stage of maturation then I’d say you really do have to brace yourself for the fructose/sucrose/glucose onslaught before you give Trappist Achel Brune a go.

Next up, the Trappist Achel Blonde. Again, I forgot to chill it down and again – even switching to a balloon-goblet glass – there was a huge amount of froth on the initial pour. Flavour-wise, it was a case of almost complete contrast; the Blonde was deeply bitter with just a slightly sweet undertone. I could taste honey and marzipan, but the most memorable element was the long, dry finish and sharp, herbal after-taste. The sweeter elements became stronger as the beer warmed a little, with more sherry flavours coming through towards the end, but generally speaking the Blonde was the antithesis of the Brune.

In conclusion: two very distinct, very complex and flavourful beers and I enjoyed them both for very different reasons. I just wish I’d had them the other way around; I got the impression I’d had the dessert and then gone back for a savoury starter.

Quick catch-up #5: The Rest of 2009 so far…

Back in January I declared my intention to steer clear of average, bog-standard bitters and pale ales as far as I possibly could. When it comes to the buying of bottled beers I’ve done pretty well. Purchases of a pretty superb stout selection from BeerVentures.co.uk, a case of rare and rather exquisite Belgians from BeerMerchants.com and a couple of excellent BrewDog orders have helped to keep the quality averages consistently high and I’ve been exercising my willpower when it comes to supermarket purchases: only the most interesting-looking new stuff for me.

Inevitably though, there have been a few that in spite of their apparent promise haven’t turned out to be quite as remarkable as I’d hoped. And seeing as there are only so many times that your humble beer blogger can stretch “bitter ale, malty, some hoppiness” (or vica-versa as applicable) to a full Tasting Notes write-up, here’s another quick catch-up piece to clear the backlog from the notebook:

Shepherd Neame Late Red (bottled, 4.5% abv)
A very deep-ruby red bitter brewed with late-season hops. Not sure if the seasonality of the hops adds anything in particular to the flavour profile, but the brew was distinctly hoppy and bitter, although at the same time a bit on the flat side and without much else to distinguish it. Not bad, but not great either.

Jennings Golden Host (bottled, 4.3% abv)
A golden amber pale ale with a very hoppy nose that somehow doesn’t carry through into the flavour, which was quite mild and if anything, had a honey-sweetness rather than a hop-bitterness. With a touch of citrus as well, this would make for a pleasant summer quaffer, but isn’t one I’ll be looking out for in future myself.

Thwaites LiberationThwaites Liberation (bottled, 4.8% abv)
A smooth-drinking, but with barely a distinguishing characteristic to report back on – a touch of sweetness but hardly any bitterness to balance it out. I would have expected more from Thwaites, who usually know how to put out a decent brew and at 4.8% it should really have had a bit more bite, surely?

Black Sheep Yorkshire Square (bottled, 5.0% ABV)
A dark amber bitter with a hoppy, fresh-tasting flavour, good bitterness and hints of citrus to make things interesting. Nice. But not remarkably nice… (Ed wasn’t blown away either).

Orval Trappist Ale (bottled, 6.2% ABV)
I picked up a bottle of Orval in Tesco during my recent Belgian-familiarisation drive. It poured with a big head and a big aroma and turned out to be slightly cloudy, slightly effervescent and slightly sour. Not a hint of sweetness anywhere and a rather odd after-taste, too. I know this one’s meant be a taste that’s worth acquiring, but I don’t know… I’m unlikely to be going back any time soon, I think.

Wood’s Shropshire Lad (bottled, 5.0% ABV)
I’m pretty sure this one must have gone off in the bottle. Or at least, I hope that explains the cloyingly sweet, marsh-mallow, unpleasantly yoghurty flavour that saw the bulk of it dumped down the sink. I’ll give it another go sometime – if only on the grounds that my brother-in-law swears it’s actually a decent drop – but honestly, this particular bottle was just undrinkable.

Badger Golden Champion (bottled, 5.0% ABV)
I was highly impressed by Badger’s Golden Glory a while back, but this one didn’t quite hit the same high-notes. It was pleasant and drinkable enough: a rich, golden ale with a light, hoppy flavour and some definite citrus notes. But again, I’d expect more from a 5% ABV beer. And from a marketing perspective, I’m just not sure why Badger would want to have two such similarly-named ales in its range when they have such distinct characteristics? Anyhow, my advice: stick to Golden Glory for a much more interesting flavour experience.

Belhaven Twisted Thistle IPA (bottled, 5.3% ABV)
Along with a few others in this round-up, I rather think this is a beer that would perform much better on draught than it did in the bottle. A golden-amber ale that actually had a much more malty profile than it’s claim to IPA-status would suggest, with the hops not really kicking in until the after-taste rather than being up-front and central as you’d expect. With hints of honey-biscuit and a pink-grapefruit citrus tang it’s not unpleasant by any means, but it’s not remarkable either.

Double Maxim Maxim Double Maxim Premium Brown Ale (bottled, 4.7% ABV)
This resurrected recipe has been lovingly restored by the Double Maxim beer company; it was first brewed in Sunderland in 1901 to celebrate the return of the Maxim Gun detachment from the Boer War. The beer is a deep chestnut colour with a slightly vegetative aroma in-bottle. Hoppy and sharp with an underlying marzipan sweetness that develops into a definite almond flavour as the beer goes on. Pleasant enough, not so impressive that I leapt to try the draught version when I saw it a few weeks later; although who knows, maybe that was an opportunity missed..?

Cairngorm Trade Winds (bottled, 4.3% abv)
This one was left over from the selection I picked up in last year’s Sainsbury’s summer Real Ale promotion. A pale golden ale with a rich, fruity flavour and a lingering bitterness that became more noticeable as the pint went on, backed up by a smooth, satisfying mouth-feel. Would probably try this one again, especially if I found it on draught (Ed was a bit more impressed than I was).

Marston Oyster Stout (bottled, 4.5% abv)
For a stout, this one was remarkably thin, fizzy and generally a bit limp: a hint of coffee and chocolate, but barely anything to distinguish it from bottled Guinness. I’ve had porters with a lot more body and bitters with a lot more flavour and a great many stouts that were superior on both fronts. Not one I’ll be rushing back to in a hurry.

Wychwood Dirty Tackle (draught, 4.0% abv)
Tried a pint of this one at the Bull’s Head in Manchester at the end of a session. A pleasant, rich-chestnut coloured bitter with a well-balanced blend of malt and hops and dry, bitter finish. Pleasantly drinkable, but not all that remarkable. No sign of it on the Wychwood website, either; I’m guessing it was a seasonal brew for the Five Nations or something like that.

That’ll do for this time around. Got a few more in the notebook, so I’ll post another round-up later on in the year.

Tasting Notes: Abbaye St-Remy Trappistes Rochefort 8

Trappistes Rochefort 8Brewery: Abbaye Notre-Dame de Saint-Remy
Location: Rochefort, Belgium
ABV: 9.2%
Version: Bottled
Source: Courtesy of BeerMerchants.com

The second bottle of Belgian from last Friday’s continental taster session was once again very kindly provided by Phil at www.beermerchants.com (cheers again, Phil!) and this one went a long way towards convincing me that I really have been missing out on some rather excellent Belgian brews. Trappistes Rochefort 8 is one of a range of three beers brewed in peace, solitude and seclusion by the Cistercian monks of the Abbaye Saint-Remy in Rochefort, Belgium, where the brewing brothers have been perfecting their art since 1595. And it shows.

Rochefort 8 pours a wonderfully thick, opaque, dark amber colour and has a hugely powerful, syrupy, citrusy, orange and grapefruit nose. First flavour impressions are of sweet, stewed fruit – possibly figs-in-syrup – and cough drops, giving the beer a faint but not at all unpleasant herbal tang. The overall experience is rich, warming and immensely satisfying. At a whopping 9.2% ABV (although still a relative lightweight alongside it’s 11.3% Rochefort 10 sibling) it’s definitely one to sip and savour, but frankly I really wasn’t about to rush this one anyway. Wonderful flavours, incredible texture; I was happy to make this one glass last as long as I could. Fantastic stuff.

I’m already compiling a mental check-list for a mixed-case order to BeerMerchants.com (once I’ve put a slightly more significant dent in the currently full-to-capacity beer cupboard) and this one is definitely high on the list, along with the Rochefort 10.

As for my Belgian beer odyssey, well, I’m planning on continuing it this evening with another couple from Phil, quite possibly alongside the results of a raid on Tesco’s World Beer section that I carried out last weekend. But I think it’s safe to say that I’m steadily becoming a convert…