Lambic and Wild Ale

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.

Cantillon is among the most traditional of lambic breweries but that has not deterred this family-owned brewery from offering a wide range of different beers.  One of the most unique and innovative year round beers is Iris. Iris stands out from the other Cantillon beers because it only uses malted barley instead of the traditional combination of malted barley and unmalted wheat.  The use of 50% fresh hops is another major difference from traditional lambic. The result is a real spontaneously fermented beer that is not a lambic (a true rarity).

Cantillon’s Cuvee des Champions is a special cuvée that is dry hopped in the cask for three weeks using Styrian Goldings hops. It is a blend of different lambics, but, unlike traditional Geuze, only two year old lambics are used, producing the characteristic soft pallet of the Cantillon Lou Pepe series.

As can be seen in the photo on the right, the elimination of wheat from Iris produces a darker color than traditional lambics. This difference was also reflected in the taste; Iris had a “heavier” ale-like caramel flavor. Although fresh hops were utilized in both beers, the smell and taste of hops was a lot more pronounced in Iris, which appears to reflect the fact that  in Cuvee des Champions the use of fresh hops was confined to dry hopping.  As a matter of fact, the use of fresh hops was hard to detect in Cuvee des Champions (perhaps this difference would have been clearer if this beer was compared to a traditional Geuze). Iris also had a stronger “barnyard” brettanomyces smell, a heavier mouthfeel, more  tartness, more astringency, and a longer finish than Cuvee des Champions, which was noticeably milder with less carbonation and more prominent citrus notes. Both beers are well executed, leaving the choice between the two styles a matter of personal preference. Cantillon’s Iris is a fine example of what spontaneous fermentation can achieve in other beer styles. 

The Belgian beer blog Hier Stroomt het Bier! has an extensive photo report on the birth of a new Gueuze blender from Bierghes in the French speaking part of Belgium (Walloons). Brewer Pierre Tilquin, who has learned the skills of traditional lambic brewing at 3 Fonteinen and Cantillon, expects to release his first Gueuze in mid-2011.  Lambics are obtained from Boon, Lindemans, Girardin, and Cantillon (the first time this brewer is making its lambic available for blending) and will be aged in used Crozes-Hermitage of Cornas barrels.

One of the most interesting innovations at Cantillon are the Lou Pepe lambics. Unlike the traditional gueuze, which is made by blending lambics of various ages, the Lou Pepe beers are made by blending 2 year old mellow lambics from wine barrels.  This method produces a wonderful “gueuze” that is distinguished by its  smooth and elegant character.

There is no young beer to start fermentation so the Lou Pepe beers are  fermented through the addition of a sweet liquor. This fermentation method opens up the possibility of creating distinct fruit lambics with a higher proportion of fruit (300 grams instead of 200 grams per liter). Since this is Cantillon, the fruit is completely fermented (Trimbach-style) producing an intense fruity lambic that has more emphasis on the acidity and fruit than the Brett. These beers should be consumed at a relatively young age to experience the expressive fruit notes.

It is rare to find lambic on tap in the United States. It is even rarer to find traditional lambic on tap. And is it extremely rare to find Cantillon Lou Pepe Framboise on tap. Therefore, it was extremely encouraging that Belmont Station in Portland tapped a keg of this beer during its annual celebration of sour beers called “Puckerfest.”

Another debut at Belmont Station was New Belgium’s “Le Terroir.” Le Terroir turned out to be a pleasant surprise.  Presenting itself with a golden-orange lambic-like color, the beer fused grapefruit and lemon with hops. This medium bodied, moderately carbonated beer had a fascinating tart taste of grapefruit and tangerine, more reminiscent of a traditional lambic than a Flemish Red. Great drinkability. Less obscure is New Belgium’s “La Folie,” a Flemish Red that gives most Belgium beers of this style a run for their money. Dark red and brownish with an aroma of brown sugar, vinegar and wood, La Folie has a soft taste and light tannins; the sweeter brother of Le Terrroir. If Le Terroir announces the end of summer, La Folie rings in the beginning of autumn.

It is impossible to beat Cantillon so Belmont Station should be praised for tapping another great beer of their impressive line-up; Saint Lamvinus, a lambic made with merlot and cabernet-franc grapes. Sporting a cherry  red color, this beer has the classic Cantillon signature aroma of brett and focused acidity but more vinous. Like all great lambics, mouthfeel is on the lighter side and carbonation is moderate with a slightly astringent aftertaste. It cannot get any better than this.

The real surprise of the event, however, was Le Terroir, the best New Belgium creation I have tasted to date. This is yet another example of the magic that is possible when wild yeast and hops meet.

Professional obligations prevented me from sampling some of the other beers on tap. As much as I like the idea of supporting the local “sour” beers, as a general rule, most of them are just too sweet and “boozy” for my liking and no amount of innovation or complexity can make up for that. For a thoughtful review of some of the beers that were on tap, see Beervana.

The prospect of sampling new sour and wild ales gave me some pause to reflect. I think that most craft beer drinkers enjoy the idea of a brewer trying “something different” and releasing all kinds of seasonal and experimental brews, but I find myself more drawn to the idea of brewing one basic style and mastering it. This may explain my preference for brewers with a distinct house style like Deschutes (brewer of the magnificent Green Lakes amber ale) and Sierra Nevada. And what else do most traditional lambic brewers do than create gueuze and kriek? When any special releases are made available to the general public, these are typically hand selected vintages or lazy lambics (Loerik, Doesjel). Like a good wine, the wonder of lambic is the subtle variability that is associated with the brewing process. Things happen but one does not “push the sound around” as the American minimalist composer Morton Feldman once put it.

Less is more.

Let us look at some similarities between lambic beer and wine. First of all, there is presentation. Lambic beers are often sold in 750 ml champagne bottles with distinctive labels. For example, Cantillon bottles feature beautiful labels with artwork produced by local artists or family members. Then there is the ritual of serving lambic. In ideal circumstances, a cool (but not chilled) bottle of aged geuze is retrieved from the cellar, presented and poured from a wicker basket. Some lambic beers are best suited to serve in wine glasses (unblended lambic, grape lambic) or in champagne flûtes

Second of all, experienced wine drinkers often like lambic beers. Unlike many beer drinkers, who often go through progressive stages of sampling sour beers before getting an appreciation of traditional lambic, wine drinkers have been observed to take an instant liking to brews like Cantillon. Cantillon’s Jean-Pierre van Roy has drawn attention to the fact that the Cantillon Gueuze museum in Brussels is often visited by wine aficionados.

Finally, there is, of course, the production of lambic itself with its use of barrels, aging, and blending. Some lambics are aged in wine or cognac barrels and are released to the market as special Cuvées or as a Grand Cru. There is a rich history of blending lambic with grapes. Cantillon produces two fruit lambics from grapes: Vigneronne (lambic with muscat grapes) and Saint Lamvinus (lambic with merlot and cabernet franc).

This raises an obvious question: what can a lambic connoisseur drink when no lambic beers are within reach? Let’s say you are in a restaurant with your friends and the menu contains a tiny list of beers that only features Lindemans Kriek. You do not want to be a spoiler so you look at the wine list. Now, it first should be noted that liking lambic does not necessarily predict what other alcoholic bevarages one likes. So it should be clear that there is a strong element of personal preference involved in this review. I will not focus on other beer styles (obvious choices for the lambic drinker are Flemish reds and some of the wilder saisons) and confine myself to wine.

Red or white wine? I don’t think it is possible to rule out either of them. One could argue that the lack of tannins in (most) whites more closely resemble the preference of  old oak (or chestnut) barrels by lambic brewers. On the other hand, one could argue that the greater complexity and aging potential of red wines should resonate better with lambic drinkers. Since the idea that white wines are necessarily less complex or lack aging potential is a myth I do not think this view can be sustained. Because the wines that are often praised by writers on lambic are whites, and I prefer whites myself, I shall mostly confine myself to white wines and leave the reds to another inspired lambic drinker.

One relatively obscure type of wine that is occasionally discussed in the context of lambic (notably in Jean-Xavier Guinard’s book “Lambic”) is vin jaune, or “yellow wine.” Vin jaune is a very unique type of white wine made in the Jura region of Eastern France and made from the Savagnin grape. But unlike other regions that produce wines from this grape, in the Jura the resulting wine is matured in old barrels for at least five years. During this period a thin film of yeast (the voile) forms on top of the wine and prevents the wine from further oxidation. The wine is bottled in characteristic 62 cl small bottles and have great aging potential.

The similarities between lambic and vin jaune are more to be found in its production than in taste, with aged unblended lambic coming closest. In terms of aroma, Vin Jaune is more similar to dry sherry than other wines. If one likes sherry there is a good chance that one likes vin jaune (and vice versa). One interesting aspect that lambic and vin jaune have in common is that both alcoholic beverages are sometimes returned to the store by buyers who did not know what to expect and feared that they purchased a product gone bad. Like straight lambic, vin jaune can be enjoyed at cellar temperature with cheese and nuts. Another similarity is price; expect to pay a lot for vin jaune, even if you are used to buying good wines. Not a vin jaune, but a good introduction to these types of oxidized wines is Chateau d’Arlay’s Cotes du Jura Blanc, which is a blend of Chardonnay and Savagnin grapes matured in old oak barrels.

Although the riesling grape is praised by wine writers for its high acidity, minerality, and elegance, most (American) wine drinkers associate riesling with desert wines of high residual sugar. As a consequence, some of the best dry rieslings in the world can be obtained for prices that would be unheard of for more popular white grapes and reds.

Maison Trimbach is to riesling wines what Cantillon is to lambic. This Alsace winery has been around since 1626 and is renowned for its dry and laser-sharp rieslings. Like Cantillon, the Trimbach family has a strong commitment to their style of  (white) wine making and do not shy away from expressing their philosophy in the strongest terms, as  illustrated by the following quote from Hubert Trimbach:

We are Protestants. Our wines have the Protestant style — vigour, firmness, a beautiful acidity, lovely freshness. Purity and cleanness, that’s Trimbach. No wood: I hate wood! Purity and cleanness, always. Parker has taken us in the wrong direction. He has a sweet tooth. The Americans have corrupted the taste of wine drinkers. These wines are long in cask, they do malolactic, they sit on their sediments, they get so fat that only Americans can drink them.

There are other similarities. The only exception the Trimbach family allows to their rule of making bone dry wines are the late harvest Vendanges Tardives and “noble rot” wines which, like Faro lambic, can be enjoyed as desert beverages  Like a good lambic, Trimbach dry rieslings benefit from aging. Their rare Clos Sainte Hune Riesling is considered one of the best dry Rieslings in the world.

Cantillon uses Italian muscat grapes for its “white wine lambic” Vigneronne. Muscat wines are typically sweet but, as can be expected, the Trimbach winery makes a very dry version. And just like Cantillon produces one year-round beer that is not a lambic, Iris, Trimbach produces one red, Pinot Noir, that lacks the oppressive woodiness that characterizes many reds.

This is just a brief, and subjective, review of wine styles that may appeal to lambic drinkers. Other recommendations come to mind such as the Brett “infected” and oxidized wines from Chateau Musar in Lebanon and the Savennieres wines from the Loire Valley in France. Going beyond wine, lambic drinker may want to try the unpasteurized (organic) ciders from the Dupont Family in France or the Isastegi estate in the Basque country of Spain.

Almost all lambic beers that are sold to consumers are either lambic with added fruit, or a blend of young and old lambics (geuze). But perhaps the oldest style of lambic is just the unblended version of the beer, which can be consumed while it is still young or after many years of fermentation. Young lambic (or fox lambic)  cannot be bottled because the  ongoing carbon dioxide generation of the remaining sugars would shatter the bottle. It can be consumed, however, from a cask at the brewery or on draft at neighboring cafes in the Brussels area in Belgium. Some American cafes  like Philadelphia’s Monk’s Cafe have served young lambic.

Young lambic is a cloudy, flat,  sour, and dry product and is  served when 6 months to one year of age, although theoretically a young lambic can be sampled at a very young age. These very young lambics are still in the early stages of fermentation and  without many of the characteristics of a mature lambic. Perhaps an even rarer style that has found its way to select consumers are unblended versions of fruit lambic. Uncarbonated or slightly carbonated versions of Cantillon’s Saint Lamvinus and Kriek have been reported.

At the other end of the spectrum are unblended aged lambics, or “vieux lambic.” Unlike young lambics, such aged unblended lambics can be bottled because generation of carbon dioxide has run its course, leaving a dry, sharp, sour and still beer.  This style of lambic is the furthest removed from what most people consider a beer and has more similarities with a bone dry wine, and the Vin Jaune wines from the Jura region in France in particular. As demand is not high for aged “straight lambic,” only a few lambic producers have offered bottled unblended lambic. Cantillon offers a three year aged straight lambic under the name Grand Cru Bruocsella. Geuze blender De Cam has bottled a 5 year old lambic called “De Cam Oude Lambiek,” supposedly as a consequence of persistent demand from some Japanese (!) consumers.

Perhaps the increasing popularity of traditional Belgian lambic beers will generate more demand for bottling of aged unblended lambics from other lambic producers. And with the increasing interest in real wild fermentation in the United States, aged unblended wild ales may become a possibility as well.

The beer blog Beervana published some interesting details on Portland, Maine, brewery Allagash and their quest to brew a lambic-style beer. What is truly fascinating is that Allagash does not just inoculate the wort with wild yeasts from the Zenne Valley in Belgium, but is experimenting with real local spontaneous fermentation:

There’s nothing sacrosanct about the Zenne Valley–wild yeasts should ferment beer anywhere, theoretically..But would Maine wild yeasts produce a tasty lambic? They did some research and discovered that except for the hottest months in the summer and the coldest months in the winter, it turns out that Portland, Maine’s weather matches up quite closely with Brussels’.

The brewer even made a substantial investment to build and install a real cool ship (“koelschip”) and consulted the traditional Brussels lambic brewery Cantillon. This seems to be shaping up to become the closest an American brewer has ever gotten to traditional lambic brewing.

Read the complete report on Beervana.

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.”