Lambic and Wild Ale

I have been reluctant to write about Belmont Station’s 2010 Puckerfest because there were few local sour beers on tap that I find appealing, and this opinion is not due to a lack of trying! I still am not aware of any Pacific Northwest brewer who can consistently produce a good consistent sour ale. I am inclined to think that this is the result of the tendency to engage in excessive experimentation in the world of microbrewing. Experimentation is great for innovation but the usual order of things is to master the basic style first. One of the sour ales on tap tasted like the soft drink Fanta, another one displayed a rather unsuccessful combination of brett and oak, and one brew could only be classified as “theoretical” because it probably sounded good on paper, but the execution left a lot to be desired. Like last year, I liked the Russian River and New Belgium brews the best. New Belgium has the annoying, but understandable, habit of producing its best beers in tap-only limited quantities, although their more available La Folie is a serious contender for the best sour ale in the United States.

One real problem for the American sour beer consumer is that even the better producers like Russian River have to release their beers with a price tag that is usually higher than, let’s say, a great traditional Gueuze blender like Hanssens – and that is after import from Belgium to the United States! It is interesting to note that the Pacific Northwest is plagued by a similar curse in the case of wine. Pinot Noir is a notoriously challenging grape to grow and the price reflects this. For a fraction of the price of a decent Oregon Pinot Noir, good organic reds from France are available at local wine retailers like Liner & Elsen. This should not be read as a United States vs. Europe issue. The United States can claim some world class beers (Deschutes’ Green Lakes, Russian River’s Pliny the Elder, Great Divide’s Yeti Imperial Stout) but I am not holding my breath for an affordable year-round top-notch sour ale anytime soon.

At this point in time, Portland’s best local sour drink on tap (!) remains Kombucha.

Two of the most anticipated events at Cantillon are its open public brewing session and Quintessence. At Quintessence, Cantillon’s year round beers and limited releases are paired with food. For its April 24 2010 Quintessence the brewer paired its beers with artisan cheeses from Jacquy Cange. The beer / cheese pairings are sampled at tasting counters throughout the brewery. As such, Quintessence also doubles as a self-guided walk through the brewery.

One of the most fascinating aspects of Quintessence is that it presents the visitor with the unique opportunity to sample and compare all the Cantillon releases in one extended session, something that would be prohibitively expensive and not practical considering the number of different beers Cantillon produces. The event also offers an opportunity to compare different vintages of Geuze, young lambic, faro and limited releases.  At Quintessence 2010, Cantillon served no fewer than 14 different lambics. With the exception of Cantillon’s apricot lambic, Fou’ Foune, and Lou Pepe Geuze, all year-round beers were present. The cheese pairings were tasteful and well chosen — the information sheet even included the fat content of the cheeses!

I am familiar with all of Cantillon’s year-round beers and some of their limited Cuvées. There is no Cantillon that I have not enjoyed but this day enabled me to do a personal comparison and ranking. On top of my list were its 3 year old unblended lambic, Grand Cru Bruocsella, the 2002 vintage Geuze (what a difference from the 2009 version!), Lou Pepe Kriek, Saint-Lamvinus (lambic with red grapes), and Iris. All the fruit lambics were relatively young and had great aroma and taste, which may reflect Cantillon’s recommendation that these lambics should not be aged. Cantillon also served a lambic that was cold hopped with Hallertau hops called Cuvée St-Gilloise. This beer had a much more pronounced bitterness but I preferred the more subtle Iris.  Much to my surprise, my favorite beer of the day was  not one of their regular beers but Zwanze 2009 (click here for a review of Zwanze 2008), a lambic flavored with elderberry flowers (vlierbloemen). I always enjoy green/herbal characteristics in wine and beer, so smelling and tasting this in a Cantillon beer was awesome.

I have nothing but praise for the staff of Cantillon. Information sheets about all the beers and cheeses were available in Dutch, English, and French and the people at the stations were patient and informative — nothing seemed rushed. A great event by a great brewery that deeply cares about traditional lambic.

Since 2008 traditional lambic brewery Cantillon has been producing lambics with unusual ingredients and releasing them under the name “Zwanze.” The word zwanze comes from the Flemish / Brussels expression “zwanzen” which roughly translates into “fooling around”, “being silly”, “talking nonsense.” The Zwanze series further reinforces Cantillon’s reputation as a brewery that reconciles tradition and experimentation.  The 2008 Zwanze is a blend of 2 year old lambics with rhubarb (!). To my knowledge, this is the first traditional lambic with a vegetable as its main addition.

The, by Cantillon’s standards  rather plain, label reads (translated from Dutch):

An industrial lambic with artificial aroma’s, that we know. A traditional lambic with fresh fruits, that is a rarity. A lambic with vegetables, that is true “zwanzen.” And zwanzen, that is what we know how to do at Cantillon…non peut-etre!

Ingredients: water, wheat, malt, hop, rhubarb (300 g/L) 5% alc.

The following notes were made in April 2010, a year after this bottle was purchased at Chez Moeder Lambic in Brussels.

Appearance: Blond. Orange. Fairly clear. Modest head, dissipates quickly.

Aroma: Brett. Honey. Vegetable smell. Parents say they recognize the “rabarber”.

Taste: Recognizable Cantillon style. Sour. Pickles. Seldery. Cold vegetable soup. Tangerine. Rather long, bone dry, and bitter finish. A quick check against the young rhubarb from my parents’ garden (!) indicates similarities indeed.

Mouthfeel: Light body. Significant carbonation for a Cantillon beer.

Drinkability: I found this less drinkable than Geuze or fruit lambics.

This combination of tartness and vegetable taste may not appeal to everyone. An interesting aspect of this beer is that it may be the only Cantillon beer that has a rather pronounced bitter note (at least in the bottle I drank) without the use of fresh hops. Adding vegetables to a lambic may be one solution for those brewers who do not want to “sin” with fresh hops but want a bitter note  in their lambics. A truly unique experiment. Its green, vegetal character makes this the Cabernet Franc of lambic beers.

Not all the Zwanze experiments may prove rewarding but if the 2009 Zwanze (brewed with elder flowers) is any indication there is a good chance that Cantillon will discover a great year-round beer at some point.

My only quibble. If this is supposed to be an ongoing annual tradition, can we have a better label?

Reinaert Flemish Wild Ale is  triple fermented wild ale using saccharomyces and brettanomyces yeast strains. This beer was brewed by De Proef Brouwerij, an experimental brewery from the village of Lochristi in Belgium (near Gent). De Proef Brouwerij is known for its innovative products and collaborations, including collaborations with Allagash and Tom Arthur. Reinaert Flemish Wild Ale was the April 2003 selection for Michael Jackson’s Rare Beer Club.

Tasting notes were made on March 31, 2010.

Appearance: Pours a  fizzy clear pale golden yellow with good head retention.

Aroma: horsey, brett, belgian yeast, caramel; smells like a wild version of a Belgian Strong Pale Ale.

Taste: Initial sweet note, mint, bitter caramel;  alcohol; dry, lingering, bitter finish.

Mouthfeel: Medium. Significant carbonation. Smooth.

Drinkability: Quite drinkable, especially for such a high alcohol percentage. More pleasant and complex upon warming.

This beer does not hold back on the alcohol at 9%.  So far I have had mixed feelings about high alcohol Flanders reds and wild ales. This beer is doing a lot better on that front because it is going for a different experience – more reminiscent of a Belgian Triple or Strong Pale Ale. The brettanomyces add a nice touch to this style.

We found this beer in 11.2 oz. bottles at a reasonable price. If wild ales come to age we should expect more affordable year-round releases. This would be a particularly welcome development in the United States where, unlike in Belgium, the market for such beers is dominated by expensive seasonal releases.

This review of Supplication marks the fourth Russian River entry on this blog. Our positive experiences with Consecration, Beatification and Temptation created high expectations for this barrel aged Russian River beer as well.

This review is for Supplication 350 ml bottle (Batch 4×2).

Sour cherries were added to this “brown ale” during barrel aging and I expected a bright red color reminiscent of the Kriek lambics of Cantillon and Hanssens. The beer poured a clear amber and left a small creamy, but persistent, head. The smell was equally surprising and not as sharp (acetic acid) as I expected. This batch smelled rather musty with a dominant oaky brettanomyces aroma. Mild notes of banana, cherry and tropical fruit were detected as well. Upon tasting the sourness of this beer was rather moderate. The funk clearly dominated the fruit. Medium bodied with medium carbonation. Slight astringency. The most remarkable aspect of this beer is that the agreeable initial taste gave away to a rather yeasty bitter finish. This rather unpleasant aftertaste substantially decreased my appreciation for this beer.

I am not sure whether Supplication is “supposed” to be this way or that this batch is different from the previous batches. We opened two 350 ml bottles to compare but the experience was the same for both bottles. Since the  yeast sediment was left at the bottom of the bottle I am inclined to rule out that the yeast sediment was poured with the beer (an unfortunate event that can ruin a great lambic). I did not get much of the dry and lingering tartness that many other reviewers have tasted.

This was a rather disappointing beer from Russian River. The “nice cherry flavor and sourness” that the label offers was hardly found in these bottles. I am open to the suggestion that this batch was not representative. To be revisited in the future!

Reviews of the other three Russian River wild ales:

Russian River Temptation

Russian River Beatification

Russian River Consecration

It is hard to overlook the distinctive black bottles of Radikon on the shelves. But for someone used to craft beer prices, spending more than $30 for a 500 ml(!) bottle of wine is not routine. When walking around with the bottle in the store one of the employees observed me and initiated a conservation about the unique style of Radikon — how his whites are more like reds and if I would let her know what I thought about the wine next time I visit the store.

Stanko Radikon is one of the maverick naturalist wine makers from the Friuli region in Italy, close to neighboring Slovenia. His organic “Slovenian” wines are naturally fermented in large old barrels without temperature control. The grapes are harvested by hand, undergo long skin maceration and no artificial added yeasts or enzymes are used. Sulfites have been completely eliminated since 2002. The wines are not filtered.

The 2002 Oslavje is made from 40% Chardonnay, 30% Pinot Grigio and 30% Sauvignon Blanc. Although the wine is classified as a “white,” the color in the glass is an opaque dark golden yellow. In the neck of the bottle we observed an uncommon residue (yeast?).

One of the most remarkable experiences of drinking this wine is the sheer difficulty of describing it. No matter how long we swirled, smelled and tasted the wine, it refused to be domesticated. This is not necessarily a fault and we attributed it to our limited experience in describing wines of this nature. But later we discovered that even experienced wine writers like New York Times’ Eric Asimov had exactly the same experience!

This should not be interpreted as Radikon making indistinct wines. To the contrary; the wines are mysterious and very enjoyable.  Some notes were made to serve as a reminder and an attempt at characterization. It indeed smelled more like a red than a white —  horsey, peaches, and Margarita (!). The taste was “crazy,” “indescribable,” but I also noted lemon and grapefruit with mild tannins and a nutty finish.  The wine was medium bodied and a medium to long finish.

Having little experience with natural wine makers I do not know whether my experience is representative for the style or reflects the magic of Radikon. But it was one of the most unique and exceptional wines I have tasted to date. To be continued when our budget allows.

There is no shortage of American microbreweries releasing experimental beers that are fermented with Brettanomyces yeast.  One interpretation that has become quite popular is to brew brettanomyces beers with a strong hop profile (a style I have referred to as Wild IPA or Barnyard IPA).  Midnight Sun from Anchorage, Alaska, and Colby Chandler from San Diego have collaborated on a Belgian-style India Pale Ale aged in French Oak Cabernet Sauvignon barrels.  I might have missed this beer in my local Whole Foods were it not for its striking label.

Tasting notes from March 05, 2010.

Beer was poured in a Cantillon Gueuze glass.

Appearance: Pours a thick, foamy, lasting head. Hazy golden color.

Aroma: Brett and banana. Spice. Oak. Slight sweet note upon warming.

Taste: Spicy. Hops. Mint. Citrus. Looooooooooooong dry finish of  spice and herbal hops.

Mouthfeel: Medium bodied. Medium carbonation.  Silky smooth but barrel-induced astringency is present.

Drinkability: Great, but higher alcohol does not make this a session beer.

The emphasis of this beer is clearly on the hops instead of the “funk” but this is so well executed. Perhaps my perception was influenced by the location of Midnight Sun (Alaska) and its futurist blue-grey label but there is a something like a “cold” mint note that accompanies the strong and pleasant bitter finish allowing this beer to be enjoyed both while drinking and between sips! Strangely enough, the experience also reminded me of some of the better dry stouts.  I did detect a little sourness in the beer but the mouthfeel indicated substantial barrel-induced astringency. There is something contemplative about this beer but, unlike the “warm” feeling of the Port Brewing Company and De Proefbrouwerij collaboration, this beer is more reminiscent of some of the more chilly entries in the Comme des Garçons Incense perfumes and would make a good partner to Thomas Köner’s glacial ambient music.

It will be quite a while before the United States can compete with the best spontaneously fermentated beers of Belgium but American microbreweries are pioneers in brewing these kind of wild West-Coast style ales.

Jeff Sparrow’s Wild Brews: Beer Beyond the Influence of Brewer’s Yeast is a major contribution to the literature on lambic beer. In this book the author does not only discuss traditional lambic but Flanders red ale, Flanders brown ale, and contemporary (American) wild ale as well. If anything, this book is testament that spontaneous fermentation and brewing with other yeasts then Saccharomyces is not dead.

After being introduced by New Belgium’s Peter Bouckaert, the book starts off with the obligatory account of how the author became interested in the beers he  loves to write about. In this case the author is traveling in in Europe, ends up in Chez Moeder Lambic in Elsene, Belgium, orders a lambic “with some odd tropical fruit” and is told by the bartender to try Cantillon Rose de Gambrinus instead. This experience, and a later experience with a vintage bottle of Liefmans Goudenband (old recipe) set the stage for an enduring interest in the wild brews of Belgium.

The recovery of traditional lambic and the movement to brew wild ales in other parts of the world raises the obvious question if lambic can be brewed anywhere else than Brussels and the Payottenland. Brewer Frank Boon reportedly said “you can’t” but Cantillon’s Jean-Pierre Van Roy  believes that spontaneously fermented beer can be brewed  in other places in the world. These answers are not mutually exclusive. If lambic beers are defined as spontaneously fermented beers that are brewed in Belgium’s Payottenland, it is evident that lambics cannot be brewed in any other part of the world. If the defining character of lambic is true spontaneous fermentation, all bets are off. And if lambic is defined solely by its flavor profile, the character of lambics can be approached by controlled fermentation with non-traditional yeasts and bacteria. In his book 1990 “Lambic”,  Jean-Xavier Guinard argues persuasively that the temptation to ride on the popularity of lambics should be resisted and that this label only needs to be used for the traditional brews of the Payottenland. On the other hand, when brewers in other parts of the world employ the authentic traditional techniques such non-Belgium lambics could help to save the tradition from extinction.

Sparrow devotes some effort to distinguish between Flanders red ales (sour ales), Flanders brown ales  (oud bruin) and lambics. In the case of lambics such distinctions are clear but the attempt to distinguish red ales from brown ales looks more challenging.  One cannot just tweak a little with another beer style and get a lambic but the dividing line between the Flanders ales can appear quite arbitrary, although one could mention that the the presence of Acetobacter sp.  contributes to the more pronounced presence of acidic acid in the reds. But reading his account of the Flanders sour ales, it seems that these beers are more vulnerable to disappear than lambics. This is ironic because modern examples of such beers are produced in ways that would be considered taking lazy shortcuts by traditional lambic standards. This raises the question of how the production of a traditional Flanders sour ale be distinguished from a traditional lambic, a topic that is discussed at various points in the book.

The history of wild brews is covered in some detail, including a brief discussion of the American Wild Ale style. Sparrow expands on the history of lambic brewing given in Guinard. As the author states, “lambic can lay claim to being the oldest existing beer style in the world”, its first written documentation going back to around 1320. The most infamous lambic variant must be faro, “the beer which is drunk twice”, a characterization that dates from the time that waste-polluted Senne River water was used to brew this sweet lambic. Discussing the practice of blending and diluting lambics, the author notes that some hint  “that the founder of the Belle-Vue lambic brewery-pub in Brussels was not well respected and produced his lambic with help from beer discarded from other breweries and  returned from cafes.”

Although most lambics that are consumed today are gueuze and fruit lambics, one hundred years ago 90% to 95% of lambics were sold straight. Lambic brewers Cantillon and De Cam have bottled unblended aged lambic, but it is not likely that this style will catch on beyond locals, a small group of lambic connoisseurs and perhaps some adventurous wine drinkers any time soon. Sparrow mentions that traditional lambic brewers consider  the differences between lambic and wine and between Gueuze and Champagne very small. Quite remarkably, the author also mentions that in Eastern Brabant the traditional white (wit) beers were produced by spontaneous fermentation as well. Fruit and herbs were often used in the production to balance the sourness of the beer. The addition of herbs has remained a staple of Belgian white beers such as Hoegaarden but the tradition of spontaneous fermentation has been abandoned.

The third chapter about drinking wild beer has lot of information (including a number of maps) about most of the major existing producers of traditional lambics and wild ales and  makes the book quite useful as a reference. There are also interesting tidbits of information about the evolution of some brewers, which often means the transition from a traditional product to something with more mass appeal (such as the reduction of aged beer in Rodenbach Classic to make it sweeter). This chapter really shines in its description of the traditional lambic brewers; their formation, history and brewing approach. Sparrow’s description of 3 Fonteinen’s unorthodox “temperature controlled” barrel stores has taken a completely different meaning since the 2009 disaster that cost the brewery most of its years product and contributed to DeBelder’s decision to stop brewing and return to blending. The United States is also discussed and includes some interesting information on smaller experiments with wild ales around the country. Also featured, of course, is Russian River, the California brewery that has done a lot to promote sour ales in the United States and who can give many Belgium brewers a run for their money.

The technical treatment of lambic brewing covers much of the same ground as Jean-Xavier Guinard’s 1990 book on the topic but adds a lot of interesting details, photos (including microscopy images) and tables.  In the case of Sparrow’s book there is, of course, also the technical treatment of the production of Flanders reds and browns. Most impressive, and somewhat of a neglected topic in Guinard’s book, is the extensive discussion of the characteristics, selection and maintenance of barrels, an element of traditional lambic brewing that requires a lot of expertise, which further adds to the mystique of lambic brewing. In his discussion of barrel choice, the author mentions the ability of some lambic connoisseurs to detect the original use of a “new” barrel in a blend.  Breweries such as Belle-Vue, Cantillon, and Oud Beersel also use chestnut barrels in addition to oak.

The technical and procedural treatment of lambic is completed with a chapter about blending, and that of Gueuze blending in particular. As the author notes: “Gueuze blending is an art. The traditional gueuze blender expresses himself using a liquid media the same way a painter uses paint and canvas.”

Wild Brews is great book for  lovers of traditional lambic.  Highly recommended.

I cannot claim to be an expert on the saison style but a limited edition saison with brettanomyces is hard to resist. It is even harder to resist when the reviews of this brew are generally encouraging and the bottle features a pretty label.

A brief review.

Very thick head (3 fingers), dissipating over time. Little lacing.

Murky blonde color. Opaque. Heavy carbonation.

Smells like brett, spice, sweetly tinged. Peaches and white fruit.

Carbonated but smooth. A little sweet, but not overbearing. Hops keep the sweetness in check. Spicy.

Medium-bodied, creamy mouthfeel. Too foamy!

This is quite tasty and smooth. I can do without the strong carbonation. Great bottle and label though.

The September 2009 issue of Imbibe Magazine features an interesting article about the growing interest in oxidized wines. Co-owner of New York City restaurant L’Artusi Joe Campanale is quoted saying:

These are not ‘in-between’ wines… All the fresh fruit aromas and tastes diminish, making way for cooked or candied fruit; nutty, yeasty flavors; and a ton of complexity. Fans of these wines find their individuality and character is unsurpassed and, because of that, they are some of the most fascinating and compelling wines in the world.

Not surprisingly, the story starts off with the most famous oxidized fortified wine known to man: sherry. But it also discusses lesser known non-fortified oxidized wines such as the classical Rioja wines from Spain, a tradition that is still kept alive by patient producers such as López de Heredia. The prime example of non-fortified wine is of course Vin Jaune, the “yellow wine” from the Jura region in France that was highlighted a little while ago on this website in an entry about wine for lambic drinkers. The Imbibe article mentions some other developments and producers that would have been appropriate in that context such as the natural whites made in the Friuli region in Italy by winemakers such as Damijan, Gravner, and Radikon.

Interestingly enough, the article features Portland’s Liner & Elsen, a wine store with a decent selection of Jura wines, Cabernet Francs from the Loire, and sherrys, indicating that Portland is not just a good city to purchase traditional lambics, but also to locate oxidized and “wild” wines as well.

Expect more coverage of Jura wines in 2010 after the author has visited Château-Chalon and Arbois in France.