New Belgium Le Terroir

Sour beer does not commit one to a particular malt or hop bill. It is possible to leave out the wheat (Cantillon Iris), add oats (Cantillon Zwanze 2010), or (partially) substitute fresh hops for aged hops (Cantillon Iris). Jef van der Steen has documented that traditional lambic brewers did not always exclusively utilized aged hops. But there is a difference between allowing (a portion) of fresh hops with low alpha-acids that add little to the bitterness of the beer and explicitly aiming to add hop bitterness to a sour beer. Cantillon’s Iris is currently the finest example of a sour beer with subtle hop notes, but the sheer amount of hop varieties and (dry) hopping suggest endless possibilities.

I was quite pleased to see that New Belgium had bottled Le Terroir for its Lips of Faith series because it was my favorite non-lambic sour beer at the 2009 Belmont Station Puckerfest. Le Terroir is a sour ale that is dry hopped with Amarillo hops. The New Belgium website also indicates that Target  hops were used during the boil. Le Terroir has a very distinct aroma, unlike anything I have ever smelled in a sour ale. The sweet and peachy Amarillo hops are certainly there and there is also a little wood. I did not detect any signs of brettanomyces yeast in either the aroma or the taste. Le Terroir does not hold back on the (lactic) sour scale, which makes for an interesting combination with the earthy green notes in the beer. Light bodied and smooth (oats), the beer ends with a fairly long sour/bitter finish. Its alcohol content puts it somewhere between a real session beer and a sipper.

With the exception of Cantillon’s Iris (and perhaps Cantillon Mamouche) I have little context to go on as far as imparting green notes to sour beers is concerned. If such brews become more prevalent I doubt that Amarillo will be my favorite hop to use, but as someone who is quite interested in imparting an herbal character to wild beers, I am quite impressed. I did have a hard time establishing whether wild yeasts were present and perhaps some additional “barnyard” character could have improved the beer. Le Terroir certainly induces one to ponder the topic of harmony versus contrast in sour beers.  This is a very interesting beer from New Belgium, and the best I have ever tasted from them.


Belmont Station Puckerfest 2009

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.