When it comes to Wine Tasting, let's leave the battle of Expert vs. Consumer behind by Amy Evans

Amy Evans, wine professional and author of The Native Grape blog, responds to a recent post in the NPR food blog, The Salt: Most of Us Just Can't Taste The Nuances In High-Priced Wine.
 

"Most of us can't taste the nuances in high priced wines."    So heralded NPR's food blog "The Salt" this week in a piece by Allison Aubrey.  May I just say...UGH!!!   This is one of my least favorite of all the arguments against wine out there.  That it's all bunk.  An entire industry all over the world since the Greeks invented it in antiquity, are just plain full of it.  And more importantly...full of themselves.

And this time, they are coming to the table armed with research.  Proof!!  Aha!!!   Just the title of this article summoned an image burned into my mind of a TV spot several years ago, claiming experts could not tell the difference between Two Buck Chuck and a more expensive wine.  People really love to trot out their Two Buck, don't they?  The "experts" it turned out, were some first year culinary students in starched white Chef coats and tall Chef's hats, who made a quality declaration the equivalent of "Not Bad..Not bad at all."

The research offered here is legitimate, but unfortunately it is presented somewhat misleadingly in terms of the so-called Super Tasters.  These are a group of people who actually have more taste buds...like we all do when we are kids.  They taste sweet, salty, bitter and sour more acutely.  Consequently, they are more likely to be picky eaters (think toddlers) that don't like strong flavors, spicy dishes or dry, tannic wines.  Women frequently have more taste buds than men and are more likely to fall into this group (think girlie drinks.)   The wine experts, however, are rarely going to fall into this group.

There is definitely some biology behind why some people don't like or can't drink certain styles of wine...the same way not everyone likes strong, "bitter" coffee or dark chocolate.  But making the argument that wine experts are biologically predisposed supertasters is inaccurate, and totally flips the actual evidence on it's head. Worse, it adds fuel to arguments like these posted on NPR's discussion board on the article.

supa fluous (supafluous) wrote:

I usually buy at the $15 level... for a 5L box. Sour, but just fine for me. Not to be an inverted snob, but it feels good to be scientifically validated. Cheers!

 

 Raoul Ornelas (rlupodimare) wrote:

"I purchase Trader Joe's two buck chuck....for $2.95! Their Sauvignon blanc,Chablis Blanc or their Christmas Boujole winea are outstanding. You show me a Sommeliers (which really is a flimflam person with a French accent) a waiter, or waitress selling a glass of wine for $10.00 or more or a bottle of wine for more than $10.00 to $1,000.00 and I'll show you a deal between a genius and a sucker! Besides, after three or four glasses of any wine no ones know whether he or she is drinking wine or beer...... as the crawl on their hands and knees on the floor toward the exit; by this time, these floor crawling wine experts don't know if the wine has a hint of leather or perhaps tastes like chicken."

Now after I pick myself up off the floor, mumbling and mulling over the leather/chicken question, I would point out that the festering animosity of Raoul's response speaks directly to the main problem with these arguments...the us vs. them.  Wine professionals (as opposed to wine enthusiasts/collectors who are in it solely for their own enjoyment) are there to help people to choose wines they will enjoy from amongst the many options.    I know many talented Sommeliers who have studied for years to perfect the art of wine Service, and I am pretty sure they are not "flimflam" people and most of them do not have French accents.  But if as a consumer you are coming to the table with these prejudices and insecurities, it will take a very talented individual indeed to surmount these obstacles and help you to have the best experience possible...be it choosing a wine at a restaurant or selecting an inexpensive bottle for everyday drinking at a wine retailer. 

And to supa flous I would say that yes you can distinguish tastes in wine.  You just called your own choice sour.  If you don't really like it, than why are you drinking it by the 5L?   Most people are already tasting so much more than they realize, and a great deal can be gleaned by just paying a little bit of attention.  After all, we have all been tasting our whole lives.  We know the difference in tastes between the ripe tropical fruit flavors of pineapples and the tart flavors of green apples without being told by anyone.   Now I'm going to blow your mind supa flous...you might be a super taster.  Most bulk produced and bulk packaged wines are slightly sweet and low in tannins and bitter flavors.  As mild a wine as they can muster and still give it some alcoholic kick.  You probably like it mostly because it doesn't taste like very much at all.

The other evidence, a study "by researchers at Penn State and Brock University in Canada finds that when it comes to appreciating the subtleties of wine, experts can taste things many of us can't."  "What we found is that the fundamental taste ability of an expert is different," says John Hayes of Penn State. "'We evaluated hundreds of wine drinkers," says Hayes, having them sample/taste a chemical that measures their reaction to bitter tastes.' He found that wine experts — people such as wine writers, winemakers and wine retailers — were about 40 percent more sensitive to the bitterness than casual consumers of wine."

An ability to detect, as opposed to a sensitivity to or dislike of, bitterness does not point to biology.  Bitter is one of only four things, along with sweet, sour and salty, that we all actually taste.  It is the business of the wine professional to hone their palate and develop the ability to distinguish flavors (the sensory combo of taste and smell.)  They have been trained to detect bitterness.  I am not sure a study that determines a professional has 40% more ability in his field than someone not in that profession proves very much.   In a side note, I really, really hope that the folks at NASA are more than 40% more proficient in their field than I am.

Lastly, I do think that an inexperienced taster should not go around willy nilly dropping money on expensive or highly rated bottles of wine.  You are almost guaranteed to be disappointed.  On the highly rated front it should be noted that a high rating does not automatically coincide with a higher price point as the article states.  There are many inexpensive wines with good press.  Our own Dave Mcintyre in The Washington Post has a monthly "Recession Busters" column of affordable favorites and every major wine magazine regularly posts their own version of the Best Buy and Best Value.  The "average" person who is not getting these nuances is also ignoring the larger service wine writers who rate wines also provide which is a tasting note. If anyone ever bothered to read the note that accompanies the score they might find valuable information about what the wine tastes like and when it is ready to drink and so make a more informed decision about whether or not a particular wine will be to their taste.

Again, it's not us vs. them.  I have seen the "wine speak eye roll" many people make when they read these notes and I will say that these publications were originally intended to serve the wine trade and not the general wine consuming public, so there is a jargon.  But I guarantee you that there is a wine professional nearby happy to translate this for you over a quick discussion about what you like or maybe what you are having for dinner.

In closing, I implore people to stop viewing knowledge/interest as snobbery. For those that choose to invest the time-there is a lot to love (and not to love) about wine at all price points. If it's not your thing, that's cool...but why keep trying to pretend there's nothing to it just because you don't get it?  I know I only hear 1/100th of what a record producer hears...but sometimes, I still like to listen.  Let's leave the battle of Expert vs. Consumer behind.


About Amy Evans:
Centreville, Virginia, United States
I have been in the wine business since 2000-when I fell in love with Italian wines as a buyer in Austin, Tx. I currently rep the wines of Dionysos Imports in Northern Virginia, DC and MD-a wholesaler and importer specializing in the wines of Greece, Portugal and France. I hold the Advanced Certification from the Wine and Spirits Education Trust (WSET)

Sweet and Sour by Nick Anderson

Our “Beer 101” series is finally upon one of my favorite styles; one that sees much casual indifference among many craft beer fans who’ve never taken the time to experience the joys of its better examples, and often shied away from by relatively new drinkers unprepared for some of the key aspects to its glory. I’m talking about Lambic beers today of all types, from the ripest fruit-infused Kriek to the sharpest, most sour Gueuze. Bear in mind that I do want to go further into the subjects of both sweet and sour beers at some point, but for this week let’s just focus on Lambic, okay?

Lambic is among the oldest styles of beer produced today. Hailing from the area of Belgium southwest of Brussels (with the Cantillon brewery operating in Brussels itself), Lambic production can be traced back to the 15-16th Century, depending on who’s research you put the greatest stock into. Not much has changed from those days as far as the beers themselves go: Lambic are generally brewed with a grain schedule of around 70% malted barley to 30% unmalted wheat. Yeasts are imparted through spontaneous fermentation, with the natural yeasts and bacteria finding their way into the tanks to get the process started.

Spontaneous fermentation is a key factor in Lambic’s tart, cider/citrus notes and sour feel. After fermentation has begun its work, Lambic are moved into sherry, port, or occasionally wine barrels to develop and age for 1-3 years. You may find it surprising to discover just how much hop is used to make a Lambic, seeing as they aren’t particularly piney or bitter in any traditional sense of how we think of beer. The trick is that Lambic brewers use dried hops for the sake of preserving the Ale during the aging process, and they don’t have the powerful resins that young hops do. In fact, dried hops (if you ever get a chance to grab a handful, do so) have a sort of cheese-like aroma to them, which they impart to the final beer itself.

It’s what happens to these Ales after their time in the barrel begins that determines what form of Lambic they’ll eventually end up being. Here are some of the most common Lambic styles, how they come to be, and some worthwhile examples for you to seek out. These beers may not always be easy to find, so don’t hesitate to ask your local merchant for some assistance; we’re always happy to help.

Lambic: Seems an obvious place to start, no? Not so fast: Lambic itself is aged three years before bottling, and is still kind of a rare treat to find. The best examples are Cantillon’s Iris, 1900 Grand Cru, or their standard Lambic but best of luck finding them in our area. Oud Beersel’s Lambic is occasionally found in the wild, and is a great beer. The hallmark of classic Lambic is its lack of carbonation and its sharp, sour feel.

Gueuze: One of my absolute favorite styles of beer, though it took me some time to get there. Those expecting the sweetness of a Kriek or Framboise tend to find the shock of Gueuze and its bitter, sour palate too much and swear off it immediately rather than delve deeper into what makes these beers great. Gueuze is made from a blend of 1-3 year old Lambic, given a secondary fermentation and then bottled for anywhere from a year to two years to develop. Everything Lambic is, Gueuze is more; more sour, more citrus, more vinous, and yet richer in feel as well. Try the recently opened Tilquin Oude Gueuze to see what the style is like at its highest level. Lindeman’s Cuvee Rene is a classic as is the outstanding Girardin 1882 (known colloquially as Black Label). Drie Fonteinen makes some beautiful Gueuze as well.

Kriek, Framboise, Pomme, Peche, etc: We had to get around to it at some point—the fruity stuff. It’s true that there are some fruit-flavored Lambic that are overly sweetened and simply unpalatable, but I’m here to tell you that it gets better. You just have to be careful about what you try: I recommend trying the Kriek from Oud Beersel, Cantillon (and if you find it give me a call—I miss that beer dearly), and the wonderful Liefman’s Cuvee Brut, which is made with a base Oud Bruin (sour Brown Ale) rather than Lambic.  Lindeman’s is the brand you’re most likely to find on your local shelf, and there’s a lot of debate as to the merits of their fruit beers. Frankly, I don’t see what the fuss is about; they make outstanding Gueuze, and their Cassis is one of my favorite ‘once-in-a-while’ treats. Their Kriek (cherry), Framboise (raspberry), Pomme (apple), and Peche (peach) Lambic are fun beers that are a great alternative to ciders or cocktails and they even come in half-bottles if you’re worried about having too much on hand. I say that’s a win/win.

If you don’t know a lot about Lambic, but you think you do, give some of these a try before writing off the style completely. Especially as we get into the warmer months there really isn’t anything quite like the right Gueuze, at the right temperature on the right evening, to make it seem as if everything really is ok with the world and maybe — just maybe – that moment can last forever. Until next time.

Cheers!

Nick Anderson keeps a blog at www.beermonger.net, and can be found on Twitter at @The_Beermonger. Sign up for Arrowine’s money saving email offers and free wine and beer tastings at www.arrowine.com/mailing-list-signup.aspx.

Abbey and Trappist Ales by Nick Anderson

Of all the topics we’ve covered in our tour through Belgian beer, and all of the categories yet to come, Abbey and Trappist Ales are going to get the shortest shrift. It’s unfortunate but inevitable; there is simply too much history and nuance within these beers and their breweries to produce one fully comprehensive, properly detailed article without writing a missive that would frankly be too long to hold the beginning beer enthusiasts’ attention. So this week let’s get a relatively brief rundown on what you really need to know about some of the best beers in the world.

Most of our focus is going to relate to Trappist Ales today, but first let’s look at what “Abbey” Ale really means. While there are Abbey Ales that are brewed in monasteries, the Abbey designation can be applied to beers made at a monastery by a secular brewer, by a commercial brewery using a monastery’s name (with requisite compensation, of course), or even commercially made beers with a completely made-up “Abbey” name or simply made in the style of an Abbey Ale. This isn’t to say there’s necessarily anything wrong with or inferior about these beers; it is simply the truth of the situation. The best of these arrangements can produce fantastic beers that bring a glorious tradition to the world: the beers of St. Bernardus for example are among the more popular and acclaimed Abbey Ales out there, but only their Watou Triple is made within the old Abbey walls. The other St. Bernardus beers are made at their adjoining commercial brewery. Popular Abbey Ales include Leffe, St. Feuilien, Brasserie des Rocs, Maredsous and many, many more.

There are key styles to Abbey and Trappist Ales, and they establish templates that most Belgian-style beers follow today. Contrary to popular belief, the names Dubbel, Triple, and Quadrupiel don’t refer specifically to number of fermentations or amount of malts (though they can). Originally, the main Abbey styles were Enkel (“Single”), Dubbel (“Double”), and Tripel (“Triple”). Enkels were lighter in style and alcohol content (generally around 3% ABV), and made for everyday consumption—what we’d call a Session Ale today. The Dubbel and Triple labels were general warnings; a ‘heads-up’ for imbibers that what they were getting was stronger than normal. Today Enkels are rarely seen, while Quadrupiels have thrived in the current environment of beer drinkers looking for bigger and more complex Ales. Dubbels tend to be Brown Ales averaging somewhere in the 6% ABV range, rich with grain flavors, slightly sweet, and with a pleasant hoppy backbone. Tripels tend to be stronger Golden Ales, in the area of 8% ABV (though many are higher or lower) and bright with spicy yeast notes, clean wheat tones, assertive but not overwhelming hops, and with some hint of their alcohol present. Quadrupiels are pretty high octane, usually running somewhere between 10-12% ABV (though again, some can be stronger). Generally darker brown or even almost black in color, Quads are sippers with huge malt character, intense spice, and warming alcohol. Most Abbey Ales are well-suited for cellaring, but Quads definitely stand out and many enthusiasts keep a rotating stock of their favorites ready to open as they see fit.

The Trappist Order is an offshoot of the Cistercian Order and was established at their monastery in La Trappe, France. The Trappists spread across Europe, brewing beer as a service to the community as water was still not exactly safe at the time. Beer was also not only sold to fund the Trappists’ good works but let’s face it—it wasn’t a bad recruiting tool for the church, either. Decimated by the French Revolution, Napoleon’s march and the World Wars, Trappist monasteries spent most of the 20th century rebuilding and reestablishing their beers in what was very slowly, then very quickly becoming a competitive worldwide market. In fact, many brewers were using the Trappists’ names or simply making up their own ‘Trappist’ monastery to sell beer under. The 60s saw monasteries suing pretenders, and in 1997 eight Trappist abbeys formed the International Trappist Association (seven members remain) to establish, in a similar manner to DOC laws pertaining to wine, a set of rules and requirements for any Ale carrying the Trappist label. Among these rules established by the ITA were that Trappist Ales must be brewed within the walls of a Trappist monastery, under the control or direction of the monks. Money acquired through the sales of Trappist beers must be put back into the maintenance of the monastery or toward good works.

Six of the seven Trappist monastery breweries are in Belgium. The seventh, Koningshoven, is located in the Netherlands and bottles their beers under both an eponymous label and under the La Trappe label. The most famous Trappist brewery is Chimay. Chimay’s Ales are available in nearly every part of the world (no kidding; I snagged some Chimay Blue Label in Uruguay when I was down there a year ago) and for most are their introduction to Trappist beer. Chimay has managed to strike a fine balance between the commercial and traditional aspects of Trappist brewing, but whatever questions purists may have about their status it’s undeniable that their White (Cinq Cents; a Tripel), Red (Premiere; a reddish Dubbel), and Blue (Grande Reserve; a big Quad) labels are still among the best of what Belgium has to offer.

Those exploring past Chimay enter the realm of some of the flat-out coolest beers on the planet. Orval is famous for only producing one beer, but it’s a corker: a hoppy, unpredictable, brettanomyces-laced Tripel with the kind of elegant sparkle rarely found in beer. Orval almost feels like Champagne, and the cult of aged Orval holds many a tale of basement cellars and 20 or 30-year-old bottles being cracked open and enjoyed with great reverence. Westmalle produces an outstanding Dubbel, but it’s their Tripel that most seek out, as it’s widely considered the standard of its breed. Achel is the Trappist that is the most rarely seen (legally, anyway—more on that in a moment). Their Blond is a rare treat; bold yet approachable, it’s not one to be passed up. Rochefort is a personal favorite of mine among the Trappists. Rochefort uses a system of numbers rather than the usual names for their beers: 6 is their lush Dubbel, 8 is their Tripel rife with sharp hops and spice, and then there’s 10. Rochefort 10 is simply one of the finest beers you can buy; a huge Quadrupiel checking in at 11.3% ABV, 10 is a masterclass in Belgian brewing. Dark brown in color, Rochefort 10 is fit to be the only beer you have in an evening with its bracing alcohol and medicinal herbal notes being balanced by strong maltiness. There are those who age their Rochefort 10, but I’m of a mind personally that the more expressive the spice and yeast in it, the better.

You’ll notice I’ve mention six Trappist breweries. The seventh, Westveletern, has long been a holy grail of American beer fans. Westveletern has retained their status as the purest of the Trappist monasteries by sticking closest to the traditions of the Order: they brew and sell only enough beer to keep the monastery running and its philanthropic works funded and they’re the only Trappist brewery where the monks do all of the brewing. For years there’s been a gray market of folks lining up outside the Abbey of St. Sixtus to purchase Westveletern and then exporting it illegally. Bottles sell online for absurd prices and many beer fans are only too willing to pay—Westveletern 12 is, by most accounts, one of if not the best beer made on Earth. I can’t say; I’ve never had the opportunity to try ‘Westy’ 12 and have gone out of my way to avoid it as I have moral qualms about coming by it through illicit means. That will change for some lucky Americans soon, however: fewer than 8,000 packs containing 6 bottles of Westy 12 and a set of glasses are to be imported and sold here in the ‘States this April. Whether we’ll see any in Arlington is anyone’s guess.

The Trappist Ales aren’t necessarily for the novice beer drinker, but they’re among the most rewarding to discover and experience. If you enjoy Belgian beer at all, do yourself a favor and seek out some of the Trappists’ work. You’ll be glad you did.

Cheers!

Nick Anderson keeps a blog at www.beermonger.net, and can be found on Twitter at @The_Beermonger. Sign up for Arrowine’s money saving email offers and free wine and beer tastings at www.arrowine.com/mailing-list-signup.aspx.

'Tis The Saison by Nick Anderson

It’s hard to imagine here in 2012 American, but the Belgian style of beer known as Saison was near-death not 15-20 years ago. Like many other beer styles, the rise of the American craft beer scene created an interest in Saison that brought this clean, refreshing Ale back from the brink and then some. In fact, it seems difficult these days to find a brewery that isn’t making a Saison of one form or another. Let’s take a look at a style of Belgian beer that has charmed the world.

Saison’s roots can be found in the French-speaking Belgian region of Wallonia. Farmers would brew these Ales in the autumn or winter for farm workers to drink during their long harvest-time shifts (this is why you’ll often see Saison alternately referred to as Farmhouse Ale). You see potable water wasn’t exactly an option in those days, and said farmworkers were entitled to as much as five liters per day (for hydration purposes, or for the hell of it) while harvest was happening. Because of this the original Saisons were around 3% ABV so as to be more refreshing than anything else, and while the strength of Saison has gone up over the years (most examples today check in between 6-8%) a bright, refreshing feel with a crisp hop character (hops act as a preservative, don’t forget) remain the hallmark of the style.

With Saison we’re blessed with many great examples brewed here in the U.S. as well as its native Belgium, but there is a standard of the breed. Saison Dupont has been brewed in the same farmhouse since 1844 and is one of a precious few beers that perfectly represent what their style should be. Dupont has fresh wheat notes with a subtle hoppy backbone and a slightly floral finish. Above all else, Saison Dupont is a joy to drink; it’s a beer that is welcome and fantastic to have anytime of the year and one of only a handful of beers I know of that just about everyone who is into beer can always agree on.

Dupont also make a holiday season version called Avec Les Bons Voeux that is stronger at 9% and well worth seeking out. For Belgians, I also recommend Urthel Saisonniere. Here in America, there is a seemingly endless list of great Saison-style beers available. Brooklyn Sorachi Ace is a favorite, featuring the Japanese Sorachi Ace hop and a more floral character with slightly more assertive hops than usual. Heavy Seas Red Sky At Night from Baltimore is available during the summer months, as it tradition, and usually sells out fast so if you find it, jump on it.

Stillwater Ales has made an art of Saison-inspired beers; their American Farmhouse Ale is a delight and Debutante, with its rye malt and use of heather and honeysuckle, is a revelation. Ommegang Hennepin is a legend and can be found all year. The Bruery Saison Rue is brewed every season and mixes rye malt and brettanomyces to make things more interesting. Smuttynose Farmhouse Ale is a more-than-solid straightforward take on the style. Among the more intriguing, though, is Saison du Buff made in an epic collaboration between Dogfish Head, Stone, and Victory brewing companies. Each brewery makes their own version of the beer, and each has their own qualities. It’s a fascinating experiment if you can gather all three for a tasting session. Expect to start seeing the new releases of Saison du Buff in the next couple of months.

Until next time. Cheers!

Gold Rush by Nick Anderson

Continuing our look at the many beers of Belgium, this week’s column features one of the most common and varied styles of Belgian beer—the Golden or Blonde Ale. For the sake of this column we’re going to put Golden and Blonde Ales under the same umbrella. Outside of color, the common thread through many Golden Ales is the use of Pilsner malt and bottle conditioning, either through the beer being unfiltered (and left to condition in the bottle) or by adding yeast to a filtered beer causing an extra fermentation. Golden Ales tend to strike a fine balance between their bright, slightly citrusy notes and their alcohol level (which can range anywhere from 6-9% ABV and up).

Duvel is probably the best-known Belgian Golden Ale in the U.S. today. With a spicy yeast character, full-bodied malts and robust hops Duvel has not only become a favorite of Belgian beer drinkers, it’s established the style in parts of the country previously unaware of Belgian beer. Duvel can be found on tap at many bars and restaurants as well as your local grocer or wine shop.

For beer fans in the Northern Virginia area, Delirium Tremens is a legendary Golden Ale. Brought into the country by local company Wetten Imports, Delirium has become a go-to beer for those seeking a raucous good time all over the States. At 10% ABV with rich hops and an intense yeasty palate, the pink elephant on Delirium’s label is an icon of Belgian Ale. For many (myself included), Delirium Tremens is a great introduction not only to the power of Belgian beer, but just how much fun Belgian beers are too.

Those seeking a more everyday beer can find the classic Leffe Blonde in many locations these days. As a relatively inexpensive (though still not cheap) six-pack, Leffe provides a more laid-back experience for drinkers not looking for the more high-octane Golden Ales. Grimbergen Blonde is a slightly fuller-bodied beer that falls under the same category (when available though, it does tend to be a bit pricier) with a slightly spicier flavor than Leffe.

If you’re looking for something a little more modern or experimental, consider Antigoon. Originally developed with the crew at D.C.’s Brasserie Beck and served at Chef Robert Wiedmaier’s restaurants, Antigoon now can be found at retailers around the area. Antigoon has a pinpoint focus that lets its spiciness come through yet stay refreshing. A personal favorite of mine is Urthel Hop-It, a Golden Ale that has a level of hops added to it that is usually reserved for IPAs. Hop-It has a nice backbone of bitterness and is more refreshing than the average big Belgian.

Of course, our own breweries here in the U.S. have gotten into the act with their own takes on Golden and Blonde Ale. Pranqster by California’s North Coast Brewing Company is a fine Belgian-style Golden Ale that can be found for a reasonable price. Victory Golden Monkey is a great rich, intense Golden Ale that is especially nice because, being brewed in Pennsylvania can usually be found relatively fresh. Avery Karma is a nice seasonal Blonde brewed from April through August every year; bright and refreshing; Karma manages to combine big flavor and drinkability.

Whichever Golden or Blonde Ale you choose to try, keep in mind these are beers meant for fun. These are beers with which you can alternate between introspective appreciation and pure enjoyment. The seemingly endless variations of Golden Ales can provide a lifetime of experimentation; try every one that interests you and you’ll find your favorites in no time.

Cheers!

Planet Belgium by Nick Anderson

 
It has been fun these past few weeks going over some of the basic styles and examples of those styles. I feel like it’s time to start exploring other parts of the world and maybe get a bit more specific when it comes to styles, beers, history, etc. The next few weeks of this column are going to be dedicated to exploring Belgian beers. There are many misconceptions and assumptions made by those unfamiliar with the beers of Belgium, and while I certainly won’t be able to clear ever one of them up I hope to at least clear a path for you to find an interest in what is historically the most interesting of the ‘big’ beer-producing nations.

Now don’t get me wrong: I swear by my belief that the United States has the most interesting and dramatically varied beer producing culture in the world. That said, it seems that most beer geeks I’ve met and known over the years (myself certainly included) have followed a path from intense hoppy American Pale Ales and IPAs to Belgian beers. It’s not an easy transition for everyone; it took me years to wrap my head and palate around the flavor profiles and archetypes traditional in Belgian beers that are truly foreign to us here in the States. I’ve said it many times to many people over the years: while traditional beers from the U.S., U.K., Germany and the like are different, they’re relatable under the umbrella of what we know here as “Ales” and “Lagers.” Belgium is akin to a completely different planet. On Planet Belgium we consider different styles to be their own countries, so rich and varied are their traditions.

Because of the very different and sometimes downright strange flavor profiles in Belgian beer, it’s easy for someone new to it to be put-off for a lack of preparedness. We’ll get into the details later on, but for now here are of basic rules to help you start your journey:

Free your mind and your palate will follow: If all you know of Belgian beer is Stella Artois and you’re looking to expand your knowledge, make this your mantra. Repeat it to yourself often. Never forget it. You will have to adjust to new ideas and accept a whole new paradigm of what beer is and what flavors make sense. The use of spices, sugars, fruit, and wild yeasts are par for the course depending on which beer is in your glass at any given time, creating brews that are unlike anything you’ve ever had. Keep a clear head about yourself and judge each beverage on its own merits, not by how “weird” it might be compared to what you may be used to. I cannot stress this enough.

Look before you leap: Never pass up advice or recommendations from people who know, and are able to relate to your experience. This is the one time I might advise not just picking something off a menu “just because” or grabbing a bottle off the shelf because it looks interesting. It is simply far too easy to stumble into something that you may not be “ready” for yet. I know how that sounds but hear me out: that 11.2% ABV bottle of Quadruple may be your favorite beer ever someday — but if you have it tonight it may be so drastically divergent from anything you’ve had before that it may sour you to strong Belgian beers in general. An extra few minutes to question a bartender, server, or beer guy can help open a whole new world to you.

Next week, we’ll start picking apart the major Belgian styles and recommending specific beers to try. Until then, happy drinking.

Cheers!