A Belgian Tripel at play in the meadows of your mind

Gouden Carolus Tripel, Brouwerij Het Anker, Belgium
(9% abv)

A wolf in sheep’s clothing…yep, that about sums it up.

Belgian Tripels are deceptively smooth and ridiculously drinkable; watch out, though, cause they’ll knock you on your ass lickety-split.  Granted, you’ll have a big smile on your face, but on your ass, you will be knocked.

Bursting at the seams with alcohol, they clock in anywhere between 8% and 12% abv.  They are not your tailgate party tipple.  Instead, they are a long-established Belgian style that will put a few hairs on your chest.

In the initial stages, the brewer uses three times as much malt as they would for their standard Trappist “Simple”.  More malt = more sugar for the yeast to eat = more alcohol.  Finished off with Belgian candy sugar—which gives the beer a lighter body—and enough hops to balance out the sweetness, you’ve got a rocket-fueled steam engine on your hands that handles like a precision Ferrari.

The Gouden Carolus Tripel is a fine, fine representation of this.  It’s sleek, it’s delicious and you’ll notice your glass is empty quicker than you can say, “Gosh, officer, I could have sworn I only had two beers.  How many front lawns did you say I drove through? “

Made by the Het Anker (“The Anchor”) Brewery in Mechelin, the Gouden Carolus is named after the golden coins of Charles the Great.  In existence since 1471, the brewery now sports a distillery—their single malt whisky is made from the same malt as the Tripel—and hotel (perfect for wild nights in the tasting room followed by a short stumble to the pillow).

Medium golden in color with hints of caramel, the Gouden Carolus Tripel pours with a huge, billowy white head.  Deceptively delicate on the nose as you move in, your mouth is then hit with a wallop of flavor.  The taste of apricots drenched in clover honey mix with notes of caramel toffy.

But, most surprisingly, the beer tastes light and lifted and keeps you yearning for another sip.  Marshmallow cream and nougat come together with hints of spicy hops.  Wow.  It paired beautifully with Cookies & Cream ice cream (yep, I don’t mess around).

You be careful with those Belgian beers that moved in down the block, kids.  They sure have nice manners but there is a devilish look in their eyes, I tell you.  Especially that little Tripel…he’s got “trouble” written all over him.  Mark my words.

The machine at Het Anker that disguises feral wolves as innocent sheep (pic courtesy of A Considered Glass)

Quadrupel, Malheur 12°, Brouwerij De Landtsheer NV, Buggenhout, Belgium

(12.0% alc)

The Belgians don’t pussyfoot around with their beer.  Not only is their country regarded as the Holy Grail for beer lovers, but they have a penchant for naming their beers with an ironic sense of danger that will draw a gasp from the most hardened nun.

Why name your beer “Adam’s White Light IPA” when you came name it after the Devil (Duvel), Lucifer, Satan or after a brutally debilitating case of alcohol withdrawal that causes a physical onslaught (Delirium Tremens)?  That’s right, people, walk on the dark side with the Belgians!  Ride the razor’s edge to hell!  Drink the devil’s saliva!

With that in mind, I was introduced to a Belgian beer last week that seemed straight out of the Devil’s lair, itself.  Such wildly delicious flavors and such deceitful drinkability that it fully masked its high-alcohol pitchfork.  Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Malheur 12°.  Meaning “misfortunate” in Belgian, I’ll be damned if it was.  It was spectacular.

So, there my lady and I were having a bite at our local haunt, Sanfords, when we started geeking out on beer talk with Gus Karalekas.  Now Gus and his brother, Chris, own the joint and they don’t mess around.  These have to be two of the savviest restaurant operators in Astoria and they have one of the sickest, most value-driven beer and wine lists in the city.  Their prices on everything from half bottles of vino to rare beer finds are mind-boggling.

Gus is telling us about some of his latest beer finds, when out of nowhere, he gets a devilish glint in his eye.  (You always know that moment when a beer geek talks about their latest liquid fascination…the breath quickens, the heart races and the gaze becomes fixed like a gargoyle).  We knew he was up to something.  He ducked away and came back with an unassuming bottle of Malheur 12° from Belgium.

Emanuel “Manu” De Landtshee is the owner of Malheur brewery.  He opened it in 1997, but only after it had been closed around World War II, and that after having been in his family for six generations.  When his father passed in 1991, Emanuel followed his father’s dream to reopen the brewery and restore it to its former greatness.  And with it, he brought his own sense of experimentation.

The Malheur 12° is a Quadrupel style that takes its inspiration from the great Trappist brewers.  As you may have guessed, its a souped-up, hot rod version that’s bigger and badder than the Dubbel and the Trippel (its Belgian siblings).  Clocking in at a whopping 12% alcohol, its a wolf in sheep’s clothing because you don’t suspect its power.  Slightly sweet, it unfolds in unctuous layers.  With notes of Concord grapes rolled in Cocoa powder it will sneak up on you.  Malty caramel flavors are reminiscent of a Snickers bar rolled up in grape jelly (just like the kids like it, you crazy demon you).

If you’re up for beers in Queens, come see me and we’ll ride on Beelzebub’s train to Sanford’s front door where we’ll be greeted by an imp wearing a red suit and offering a Malheur and a discount on souls (I hear they’re quite in demand).  Just keep your eyes on his pitchfork…they’re a wily lot, them imps.