Lambic and Wild Ale

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.

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.

A little while ago when I was visiting family in East Texas in a “dry county” we had to make an effort to find a store that sells beer and wine. Fortunately, it only took a short drive across county lines  to find a gas station with a small collection of beers and wines.  This store was, of course, not stocked with a large selection of craft beers. After some deliberation we ended up purchasing a six pack of Victory Hop Devil Ale, a pretty decent IPA that approaches the Imperial IPA style in terms of taste and alcohol percentage. Not long after we returned from Texas we noticed a bottle of Victory Wild Devil Ale on the local Whole Foods Market shelves and decided to take it home to compare.

As the name indicates, Wild Devil is a wild variant of Hop Devil. The use of malt, whole flower hops and alcohol content are similar but this beer has been fermented with “100% laboratory grown Brettanomyces.”  As such, this beer constitutes an interesting experiment in substituting brettanomyces yeast for conventional ale yeast.

The following notes were taken on Sunday, October 04, 2009:

Poured into a Cantillon Geuze glass.

Appearance: Even with gentle pouring, produces a 2 finger “moon crater” head. Golden/amber in color, hazy. Long head retention.

Smell: Flowery/citrus hops . Brett. Sweet caramel malt.  Peppery spice.

Taste: Hops and brett. Fruit. Ends on a spicy, bitter note. Dry. Long aftertaste. As the beer warms up, the brett becomes more dominant at the expense of the hops.

Mouthfeel: Quite smooth. Moderate carbonation.

Drinkability: Less drinkable than Hop Devil. Generous remaining foam.

In previous reviews of beers in which brettanomyces yeast was used it was observed that this style does better when it is either balanced with a strong hop profile or souring bacteria. Wild Devil falls firmly in the former category.  This beer is a basic but tasty example of “brett meets hops.” Particularly pleasant is its lingering aftertaste, a characteristic of  many good beers and wines. The only negative note was the remaining foam at the bottom of the glass. The drinkability of Wild Devil is less than that of Hop Devil, which may indicate that all-brett beers may be less suitable for a session beer. The best way to sum up this beer is that it represents the sum of its parts; nothing more, nothing less.

Wild Devil could anticipate a future development in American craft brewing. The brewing of the same beer with different yeasts; saccharomyces or brettanomyces fermentation. It should be noted, however, that the use of saccharomyces and brettanomyces are not mutually exclusive. The most impressive non-lambic brettanomyces-based wild ale I have tasted to date is Signature Ale, a collaboration between Dirk Naudts from Belgium’s De Proef Brewery and Tomme Arthur from California’s Port Brewing and Lost Abbey.  Signature Ale was fermented with saccharomyces and brettanomyces and contains four different malts. Whether  this approach conferred comparatively superb qualities on this beer I cannot say but it has become evident that the combination of brettanomyces fermentation and aggressive hopping can be pushed in very impressive directions.

Unless yet another wild ale from Russian River comes my way soon, this will be the last Russian River review for awhile.  Temptation is a blond ale aged in used French Oak chardonnay barrels and is the brewery’s most recent 750 ml bottle release. Prior to tasting this beer I expected that I would enjoy it but that it would not compare to Beatification, the best Russian River beer I have tasted so far, and this turned out to be correct.

I was most concerned about the use of chardonnay barrels. In principle, there is nothing wrong with this grape but, as we all know after watching the comedy-drama Sideways, chardonnay is one of the most  abused grapes in the United States; dulled by secondary malolactic fermentation and the vanilla taste of  oak.  Of course, the use of old oak is one of the essential elements in traditional lambic brewing and contributes to the fermentation of the beer and its complexity. The danger with the use of new oak, however, is that such advantages risk being offset by the oak dominating at the expense of other flavors. In this sense, oak has similar effects  such as leaving too much residual sugar in a beer (or wine). Fortunately, Temptation is barrel aged in old French chardonnay barrels for 9 to 15 months but the oak is certainly present. As in the other Russian River wild ales, souring bacteria and Brettanomyces are used and the resulting brew is refermented in the bottle.

The following notes were taken on Friday, September 11, 2009:

Batch 004X1. Poured into a Cantillon Geuze glass.

Appearance: Pours a very fizzy head (2-3 fingers) with lots of carbonation. Blond. More head retention than expected.

Smell: Soft barnyard smell. Brettanomyces. Some citrus and a little sweet and spicy.

Taste:  Brettanomyces. Slightly sour. Round “numbing” taste, ending on a neutral note. Yeasty. Light in flavor. Grapefruit. Soft tannins.

Mouthfeel: Medium. Fizzy. Light on the tongue and buttery.

Drinkability: Less drinkable than some of their other wild ales. Perhaps the fuller and fizzy mouthfeel contributes to this.

“Is it beer, or is it wine?” asks the label on the bottle. After drinking Temptation I am inclined to answer that the similarities with wine are more than countered by the surprisingly dominant note of the brettanomyces yeast. I do not recall having tasted a beer from Russian River where the brett contributed so much to the smell and flavor. This combination of brett and chardonnay  is certainly unique, if not provocative.

It is not hard to “reverse-engineer” why I enjoyed this beer less than Consecration and Beatification. There is the royal presence of brettanomyces without enough sourness or hops to balance it.  And as far as the wine barrel of choice is concerned, chardonnay does not rank among my favorite wines (perhaps next time, Russian River can pick a Savennières barrel from the Loire Valley in France). I found this beer just a little too soft and buttery for a wild ale and the finish was remarkably short and neutral. I would not hesitate to drink Temptation over most American ales but I do not care as much about this beer as  I do about the other Russian River sour ales.

Russian River Brewing Company is one of the most prominent American craft breweries with a strong focus on wild ales. Unlike their year-round beers Pliny the Elder, Blind Pig, and Damnation, their wild ales are released as bottled limited editions or are only available for a limited period at their brewpub. Since their flagship beers have become available in states such as Oregon and Washington, their limited edition wild ales have found their way to the consumer as well. Consecration is a wild ale made with zante currants aged in Cabernet Sauvignon barrels and refermented in the bottle with a rather high alcohol percentage for the style (10%).

The following notes were taken on Friday, July 24, 2009:

Batch 002X3. Poured into a snifter.

Consecration is fizzy upon pouring but leaves little to no head or lacing. The color of the beer resembles a soft drink  (!) like cola, an impression that is further reinforced by its fizzy nature.

The beer is medium bodied and quite carbonated. When the prickly feeling on the tongue disappears it is quite smooth.

The smell of this beer is quite exceptional. Fruits. Alcohol. Vinegar. I also detected a slightly oxidized smell, reminiscent of  sherry and the oxidized wines from the Jura region in France. Since this beer innovates at so many fronts at once (choice of fruit, alcohol content, Cabernet Sauvignon barrels) there is no real baseline for comparison. Consecration has a smell that is distinctly unique.

Like the smell, the taste is quite original. Tart and fruity but heavy and astringent too. Unlike most traditional lambics, aftertaste is quite short and ends on a slightly bitter note. As the beers warms up, a slightly sweet, but pleasant, note is detected.

The alcohol content alone make this beer a sipper. This is further reinforced by its fairly high carbonation.

I approached this beer with two conflicting feelings. So far I have not been that impressed by any attempts to create high alcohol wild ales or Flemish reds. For example, many recent Northwestern attempts to create sour beers have struggled to reconcile the classic characteristics of the style and high alcohol content, with, in my opinion, mixed success. On the other hand, so far I have not tasted any Russian River beers that I did not like. I found this beer quite persuasive as well but my reservations about high alcohol sour ales remain.

Consecration is certainly a very vinous beer. But with such a high alcohol content, it almost inevitable to compare this beer with a rustic red wine (like Olga Raffault Chinon “Les Picasses”). I do not know if the use of grains, souring bacteria, and brettanomyces are at odds with higher alcohol beers or whether the attempts so far leave something to be desired.

Ironically, the most impressive attempt at a high alcohol (8%) lambic is Frank Boon’s  “Geuze Marriage Parfait,” a brewer that I am normally not so thrilled about. Marriage Parfait does not contain any fruit. It might be interesting to take this approach a step further and create an older, “flatter” version of such a beer and age it in sherry or cognac barrels.

Despite these critical reflections, Russian River has set another great example in the world of wild ales. Hopefully, the brewery decides to produce a year-round wild ale in the future.

Brettanomyces and hops are a predictable element in traditional lambic brewing but, as a general rule, the hops are not allowed to contribute to the flavor of the beer. One exception to this rule is Cantillon Iris, which does not contain wheat and includes fresh hops. As such, Cantillon has wisely decided not to label that a lambic beer. Another example of a beer that combines the Brettanomyces yeast and hops is the classic Trappist ale Orval.  But what can we expect from an experiment to combine Brettanomyces and American West Coast style hopping?

Signature Ale was conceived by the Port Brewing Company and De Proefbrouwerij in 2007 to find out. This  limited American / Belgian collaboration uses Sacchromyces and Brettanomyces and Amarillo, UK Phoenix, and German Brewers’ Gold hops during the boil and dry hopping. The result was released in 750 ml corked bottles.

The following notes were taken on Friday, March 27, 2009.

Poured into a snifter.

Appearance: Golden orange color. Substantial amount of yeast in bottom of bottle before pouring, resulting in a little yeast in the glass. 1.5 fingers of foam with some head retention and lacing.

Smell: Brett, pronounced orange smell, and citrus hops. Sweeter and more expressive when it gets warmer, but no element ever runs amok.

Taste: The malt, Brett and hops are in perfect harmony throughout. Ends on a velvety, hoppy finish. Warm and boozy.

Mouthfeel: Medium-bodied, nice carbonation, smooth, and creamy.

Drinkability: Smooth sipper. Beer changes with temperature, but is incredibly well integrated at every temperature. At 8.5% alcohol, this beer definitely packs a punch…take a taxi home!

Can one use Brettanomyces for beers that are not sour? I had an experimental 100% Brett beer once and was seriously underwhelmed, having to poor a portion of it down the drain. So it is fair to say that this beer was approached with some degree of caution. I am therefore glad to report that Signature Ale is absolutely stunning. The malt, brett and citrus hops present themselves in a beautiful balance. Finding a note that is off, even at different temperatures, is impossible.  This drinks like a strong but subtle Imperial IPA with the warm and introvert feel of a good Belgian Trappist Triple. This creation should not leave any remaining questions about the use of Brettanomyces for strongly hopped beers. A remarkable achievement.

In his book Grape vs. Grain Charles Bamforth writes:

It is often not realized that, while some bottled beer was shipped, by far, the bulk of the beer sold to India was in casks, for bottling locally. Hop bitter acids by no means kill all organisms, and the most prolific inhabitant of those casks bouncing on the ocean waves was Brettanomyces. The typical flavor notes produced by this organism are “barnyard” or “mouse pee.”

The author continues to write that modern IPAs “happily, lack this touch of authenticity…..” But some traditional lambic brewers are experimenting with all malt brews and  fresh hops though. The best known available example is Cantillon’s Iris, which is made from 100% malted barley, 50% fresh hops (Styrian Goldings) and is “cold hopped” (dry hopped) before bottling. Because Iris does not contain wheat, this beer is not a lambic beer in the traditional sense of the word, but a spontaneously fermentented ale. Cantillon has even brewed an experimental concoction with fresh US Cascade hops. And in the United States, some innovating brewers are collaborating on “wild IPA” style beers.

Nothing is more suitable than to open a book about lambic beers with a personal story on how the author became acquainted with that most mysterious of beers. In the case of Jean-Xavier Guidard most people will recognize the experience. A young student in Paris is persuaded by his friend to order a Kriek, “a wheat beer from Belgium made by spontaneous fermentation and with macerated cherries.” After looking at the price on the board, the author is not so sure. His friends offers to buy it, and the rest is history.

Although the detailed technical discussion of brewing traditional lambics may be challenging to some readers, the complexities of this unique Belgian brew more than warrant the fascinating tour through the wonderful microbial flora that work together to create lambic. Because there are many basic introductions available about traditional lambic brewing, I will focus here on some of the more interesting details that the author has collected during his research.

The author starts off with a fascinating history of lambic beers and draws attention to the close similarities between traditional lambic and sikaru, a beer that was produced 5,000 years ago in Mesopotamia by Sumerians. A Sumerian tablet revealed that the basic composition of sikaru was virtually identical to that of lambic. Sikaru did not include hops but rather spices like cinnamon to add flavor. Like lambic, the spontaneous fermentation of sikaru wort involved the local microflora like saccharomyces and schizo saccharomyces yeasts. Both lambic and sikaru have been considered high quality premium beers and were used to pay the salaries of farmers, the working class and managers. Today, Gueuze is still known as “Brussels Champaign.”

The origin of the name lambic remains a source of debate. Some claim that it refers to the alambic, an old name for the mashing vessel that was used to brew lambic, while others point to the latin word lambere (to sip). Lambic may also have been derived from the village of Lembeek in Belgium. Similar mysteries surround the name Gueuze (or Geuze). The importance of lambic in Belgian culture is evident in old paintings (such as Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s “The Wedding”) and literature, culminating in a notorious document of lambic culture in the late 19th century in Belgium called “Les memoires de Jef Lambic.”

Less exalted was the French poet Charles Beaudelaire, who wrote about faro (young lambic with candi sugar) consumption in Brussels: “Faro is drawn from the great latrine, the Senne; it is a beverage extracted from the excrements of the city through its sewer system. This is how the city has been drinking its own urine for centuries.” Beaudelaire even wrote a short poem about it, which goes as follows:

“Do you drink Faro, Mr. Hetzel?
A look of horror crossed his bearded face,
No!, never! Faro! I say this without spleen,
It’s beer that you drink twice.”

Beaudelaire would have been pleased with the decline of traditional lambic brewing during the 20th century. At the beginning of the century there were about 130 lambic breweries in the Brussels and the Senne Valley. Today, only a small number of lambic breweries and Geuze blenders survive. If we exclude breweries that mainly offer “modern” and “sweetened” lambics, the number of traditional lambic breweries and blenders is around 10 (as of 2008).  Going forward, there is reason to be optimistic, as evidenced by the creation of organizations to preserve and promote traditional lambic beers, the increased respect that brewers such as Cantillon and Drie Fonteinen receive, and the experiments with wild ales by breweries such as Russian River in the United States. Traditional lambic brewing (and the practice of spontaneous fermentation in general) appears to be making a comeback.

Although some of the information about contemporary lambic brewers, blenders, and cafes in Guinnard’s book is dated (the book was published in 1990), in his review of contemporary lambic brewing the author expresses concern over the fact that artisan lambic brewers have to compete with “lambics” that have been artifically inoculated and carbonated, fermented in steel tanks, pasteurized, filtered, and in the case of fruit lambics, sweetened with syrups and artificial flavors. Since 1998, the European Union decided that only traditional lambic brewers can use the name “oude” (which means old, as in “traditional”) for their products, the situation remains that these modern “lambics” are still being sold under the name lambic, necessitating the need for better education about lambic brewing and grassroots support for breweries and blenders who are committed to the old ways.

After introducing the reader to the history of lambic brewing, the author briefly reviews the sensory properties of lambic beers using a table that includes appearance, aroma, taste and mouthfeel. In reviewing the properties of young and aged unblended lambic, an interesting comparison is made between aged lambic and the vin jaune wines (French for “yellow wine”) of the Château-Chalon area in the French Jura. If there was still any doubt about differences in the physical and chemical properties of lagers and lambic, the  next chapter provides hard data to distinguish them. These data, derived from technical publications on lambic brewing, also highlight the differences between traditional and modern lambics.

The real degree of fermentation (RDF) can range from 63 to 82 percent in geuzes, exceeding the 50 to 68 percent in American lagers. In traditional lambics the attenuation of sugars can be complete, making them  interesting choices for diabetics. As such, calories in lambic beers come from ethanol and residual extract. The “thin” mouthfeel of traditional lambics is explained by the low level of dextrins.  One of the distinguishing characteristics of lambics is of course their acidity and sour taste. Total acidity of lambic beers are reported to be three to eight times as high as American lagers. Measured values for acetic acid and lactic acid in lambics are much higher than in other beers. The vinegarlike aroma of lambics results from acetic acid and ethyl acetate, with the latter disproportionately contributing to the smell because of its lower detection threshold. Although lambics have roughly the same values in bitterness units as American lagers, the use of aged (oxidized) hops and high acidity of the beers imparts little or no bitter taste to the lambic beers. The chapter ends with a fascinating look at  the different HPLC (high performance liquid chromatography) profiles of traditional and modern lambics. As expected, higher residual sugars and dextrins and a lower alcohol content are detected in the modern geuzes and fruit lambics.

The essential ingredients in lambic are malted barley, unmalted wheat, water, hops, and in the case of fruit lambics, whole fruits. Although lambic brewing is considered a highly local phenomenon, it is surprising to learn that the barley and hops often come from other regions such as the UK and central Europe. Although the Schaarbeekse cherries are considered the gold standard for traditional Kriek lambics, local supply is not sufficient to satisfy demand, requiring cherries to be imported from other countries.

Guinnard gives a fairly detailed description of the lambic brewing process which includes a lambic production diagram which seems to describe lambic brewing at the Cantillon brewery. One of the most fascinating features of lambic brewing is the use of a cooling tun or coolship (bac refroidissor) that is used to innoculate the wort. Lambic cooling tuns are very wide and shallow, allowing good exposure of the surface area to the microorganisms that are introduced through the outside air through vented tiles and open louvers. The importance of not disturbing the local microflora is considered so important to traditional lambic brewers that Cantillon decided to keep the old tiles when replacing the roof. It may come somewhat as a surprise to lambic connoisseurs that the old brewing process did not maximize the opportunity for the wort to pick up the local microflora. The author notes that “in the 1850s, the presence of lactic flavor or a ropy appearance (caused by lactic acid bacteria and considered “normal” in today’s lambic fermentations) was regarded as a defect.”

Without a doubt the most fascinating (and longest) chapter in the book is devoted to the microbiology of lambic fermentation and cellaring. The lambic beers are unique in their reliance on spontaneous fermentation by  the airborne microflora in the area and the brewery. Over the years chemists and food scientists have done important work in documenting the microorganisms that are involved in lambic brewing. Lambics do not only distinguish themselves from lagers and conventional ales in the involvement of “wild” yeasts of the brettanomyces genus but bacteria play a role in their fermentation as well. During the first week the lambic wort is home to enteric bacteria and yeast of the Kloeckera apiculata strain. After two weeks K. apicculata is overgrown by Saccharomyces yeast, converting most of the sugars into alcohol and carbon dioxide. After 3 to 4 months ethanol fermentation levels off to give way to lactic acid bacteria. These lactic acid bacteria contribute to the distinct sour taste of traditional lambics. After eight months yeasts of the Brettanomyces genus dominate. This slow growing yeast is responsible for the distinct “horsey” flavor in lambics.  The Brettanomyces and other oxidative yeasts also contribute to the formation of a film that forms at the surface of the beer. This film protects the aging brew against oxidation and great care is exercised not to break it. The author also reports on the role of spiders in protecting the aging lambic wort from infection; “as predetors of flies, the spiders…are treated with respect and care by most lambic brewers. Killing a spider in their brewery is considered a crime.”

A special case is the microbiology of gueuze. To make a  real gueuze, lambics of different ages (for example, 1, 2 and 3 years) are blended and refermented in the bottle. During bottle fermentation three distinct phases can be distinguished. First, aerobic yeasts such as Candida, Torulopsis, and Pichia proliferate (probably as the result of air exposure during gueuze production), followed by the longest phase during which Pediococcus and Brettanomyces produce its carbonation, and ending with the drop and autolysis of the cells. The author stresses the importance of alternating  warm and cold temperatures (which are traditionally achieved by the changing of the seasons) to satisfy the optimum temperature requirements for the different microorganisms. As can be expected, a live product such gueuze is vulnerable to handling and extreme temperature variations; “In 1931, more than 3 million bottles of gueuze were lost to hot weather in Brussels.”

The book ends with storing and serving recommendations for lambic beers and formulations for how to brew them. Real lambics can only be produced by spontaneous fermentation in areas that have the unique microbial flora for these brews (such as the Payottenland in Belgium). Although attempts can be made to approach the aroma and taste of lambics by using malt, wheat, aged hops and and cultures of the most important yeasts, the author stresses that such beers should NOT be called lambics to avoid confusion and out of respect for those who brew the real thing. Provided these recommendations are taken seriously, the resulting wild ales can  be interesting beers, as evidenced by the creations of brewers like Russian River and Jolly Pumpkin in the United States.

Jean-Xavier’s book on Lambic is a classic and recommended reading for everyone interested in Belgian beers, and lambics in particular.

If there is one beer style that can compete with wine in terms of complexity it is the lambic beer. Unfortunately, if lambic beers are known at all, it is typically because the name is also used for the sweet fruit beers that are produced by some macrobrewers. Traditional lambics, however, are rarely sweet and often quite sour. As a matter of fact, it is this sourness and spontaneous fermentation that distinguishes lambic beers from most other contemporary beer styles.

In 1996, Scientific American published an article by Jaques De Keersmacker called “The Mystery of Lambic Beer.” The blurb of the article says: “An ancient brewing technique produces a beverage so complex that it is still yielding its secrets to organic chemists.” In the article the author introduces the reader to the rich history of lambic brewing and discusses the complex organic chemistry of lambic.

Although lambic beers may be a “living anachronism” today, most beers were once brewed by exposing grains to the wild wind-borne yeasts in the area. 5000 years ago an alcoholic drink called Sikaru was made with roughly the same ingredients and proportions as traditional lambic. No hops were used in these brews. Contemporary lambic brewers do use hops, but only aged hops to preserve the beer, not to add flavor. The flavor of lambic beers solely reflects the (local) spontaneous fermentation of barley malt and unmalted wheat.

During fermentation, a variety of wind-borne and local microorganisms  in the barrels convert the wort into ethanol,  carbon dioxide and acids. Food scientists and organic chemists have identified a number of overlapping stages during fermentation of lambics: first, enteric bacteria and wild yeasts proliferate, followed by alcohol and carbon dioxide production by Saccharomyces. During stage three, lactic and acetic bacteria (such as Pediococcus) proliferate, giving lambic its distinctive sour taste. During the fourth stage, the dominant yeast is of the Brettanomyces genus, which is the microorganism that is associated with the distinct “farmhouse/barnyard” taste of lambic.  During fermentation a film forms on the surface of the brew that prevents oxygenation and excessive proliferation of acetic bacteria. And, as if nature “intended” to create lambics, the alcohol and low pH in turn prevent the proliferation of enteric bacteria.

Although the resulting product, “straight lambic,” can be enjoyed in some local pubs in Belgium and is sometimes bottled (Lambic breweries and blenders Cantillon and De Cam have bottled aged lambic), it is usually blended with other lambics to produce gueuze (or geuze). The traditional lambic brewer blends lambic of various ages (for example 1, 2 and 3 years) to induce additional fermentation in the bottle. The resulting gueuze is sour, dry and complex. Another popular lambic style is to add whole fruits to  a young lambic to induce a second fermentation. The most  popular variety is Kriek, which is made by adding (sour) cherries to the lambic. Such lambics may smell sweet but the long fermentation period produces the distinct tartness, but with subtle aroma differences, of the unblended lambics or gueuzes.

Unfortunately, these traditional fruit fermented lambics often have to compete (if available at all) with beers to which fruit syrup is added to a lambic base, or even to another type of beer. Although there is a growing market for such beers, the shared use of the name “lambic” has the unfortunate effect that the traditional lambics, which require long production times (2 years or more) and reflect a unique brewing process, have to compete with such “simplistic” sweetened brews. Ironically, the increased popularity of these “lambics” have raised renewed interest in traditional lambic brewing, such as practiced by Belgian brewers and blenders like Cantillon, 3 Fonteinen, Oud Beersel, De Cam, and Hanssens.

As one book says, lambics are beers beyond  the influence of brewer’s yeast (hence the importance of blending to create a consistent product). The author of the article reports that researchers at the University of Leuven in Belgium have identified 100 different kinds of yeast colonies, 27 colonies of acidic bacteria, and 38 colonies of of lactic bacteria in a single type of lambic. Such complexity is an exciting field of research for organic chemists and curious “molecular brewers.”

De Keersmaecker ends his article as follows:

“Lambic’s future rests with adventurous beer lovers and that small but enthusiastic segment of the population that goes out of its way to sample traditional ethnic foods. Lately this group seems to be expanding as more people pass up processed foods in favor of the old staples: fine cheeses, hearty breads, wines, abbey beers and real ales. Who knows? If the trend continues, lambic may be around for another 500 years.”