Another Christmas Ale Miracle - A St. Bernardus Brew For the Season

St. Bernardus Christmas Ale

Belgian Abbey Ale

750 mL corked bottle

10 percent ABV

Sampled:Dec. 27, 2008

Noel indeed!

What a better Christmas treat than a new addition to Belgium’s finest lineup of ales?

Grabbing the last one stocked at the Jax Package Store in Cumming, Ga., I’m unable to lay one down to test the 15-year age claim on the bottle. But it’s a new St. Bernardus, so I couldn’t wait to sample it.

I can smell this Christmas Ale’s bouquet from across the room. Candied sugar, a slight molasses and raisins permeate the initial pass. Do I detect a little cinnamon and nutmeg ducking back beneath the more dominant flavors? As a package, it’s a remarkably earthy nose with a sparkling head and lace that rapidly thins down to wisps.

At first taste, St. Bernardus apparently delivered its Dubbel on steroids. But that comparison doesn’t only serves as a starting point – this ale goes in different directions.

For an ale clocking in at 10 percent ABV, it remains amazingly light and never succumbs to the pepperiness unavoidable with many stronger Belgian ales. The pepper frequently proves the limitations of beers with double-digit alcohol contents.

But the flavor rolls from the candied sugar and molasses into fruiter territory. Joining the raisin notes are hints of dates and plums with apples elbowing into the bitter finale. The fruit gives way to a roasted maltiness – chicory, possibly – and bows out gently for its size.

This reminds me of the Noel produced by Brasserie a’Chouffe, only more lively and festive. The other beer was darker than the normal Chouffe range, but lacked the complexity of its blond and brown ale brethren. St. Bernardus offers a nice diversion, as the St. Bernardus 60^th Anniversary Abt 12 from two years ago.

Eschewing the typical spices of Christmas ales, the brewers from Watou refine their techniques for Christmas to deliver another complex and mysterious ale

Maybe next year I can find one to sock away for a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Pasts in 2023.

Rating: 8/10

Still West Flanders' Finest: Watou Tripel

Watou Tripel

Watou, Belgium

750 mL corked bottle

7.5 percent ABV

Sampled: Dec. 22, 2008

St. Bernardus produces several fine ales in this range, and only Watou Tripel has eluded me to this point.

Upon first whiff, I wish I’d found it sooner. The ice cream quickly condenses into a thick guarding layer, never obstructing all the aromas escaping from the body. The rich nose comes replete with perfume notes, biscuit traces, coriander and other spices. St. Bernardus effectively embellishes the traditional nose of a tripel.

With a crispy body and bearable alcohol content for a tripel, it’s a dry affair, with a lace that virtually tattoos the glass. The finish is exquisite – it not bone dry, but dry due to the grains in the malt.

In the body, the citrus becomes more muted than other tripels – it pushes a mix of orange apricot and peach in light doses, with some lemon zest pairing nicely with the dry theme.

At times, this feels closer to a Saison than a tripel; but nature, the two styles are relatively close. Watou Tripel nudges away from it with the biscuit and graininess – they’re of different strains than the Saison grains.

Built on a gentle effervescence, Watou Tripel is a pleasant diversion from the main St. Bernardus line. It’s a fine tribute to the brewery’s hometown in West Flanders hop-growing region.

When set against St. Bernardus Tripel, I lean slightly toward this one. The complexity at the alcohol content is a rare combination.

Rating: 8/10

Beautiful Blasphemy

Blasphemy

Weyerbacher Oaked Quadruple Ale

Weyerbacher Brewing Co., Easton PA

22 oz. capped bottle

11.5% ABV

Sampled: Dec. 7, 2008

I avoided this beast for two years due to its alcohol content and burnout with the oak-aging trend in American brewing. Too many bad strong beers with that oak flavor gets old very quickly.

But a dreary winter night in Nashville finally wore me down. To think I dreaded this experience.

Now, I can only say, Weyerbacher, blaspheme away.

Its thin fizzy head vanishes without a lace to speak of. Strangely enough, a small island of lace lingers dead-center in the chalice.

A mammoth ale must deliver an equally powerful nose, and with the oak shoves ahead backed by spearmint, cloves, vanilla beans, pepper and tobacco. Really, all of those exhibit here and somehow, these flavors manage to avoid all-out war in favor of peaceful co-existence.

When used properly, oak can mellow out a strong ale – it almost works with Arrogant Bastard (aka, the frat boy’s snob beer). Weyerbacher makes it work on levels most brewers could never anticipate.

Aging and addition bottle fermentation usually ratchets up the alcohol content, already a scary 11.5 percent. The height to which it has scaled are even scarier considering how drinkable it remains.

This beer has no business being this smooth in light of that strength. All that heaviness that slows down many quads not brewed by St. Bernardus or Chimay drops out after the first year of aging. Everything day past that is gravy.

What characteristic Quadruple fruitiness remains has been condensed into a fine plum and date strain running between the pepper and the oak.

Blasphemy closes with a molasses and tobacco finish, with no flavor reaching obnoxious heights.

At the end of a full bottle, the pepper never obstructs as it does with most stronger ales, and the rest of the package never overstays its welcome.

What follows is remarkably smooth, with an oak background delicately supporting ale that has evolved closer to port wine, the common path for Quadruples left to sit. The oak drives Blasphemy into an intriguing offshoot of the august style.

Not anyone’s ideas of an everyday libation, Weyerbacher succeeds wildly with its bold act of Blasphemy.

Rating: 9/10

The worse the elf, the better the beer

Seriously Bad Elf

“A Rather Serious English Double Ale”

Ridgeway Brewing, Oxfordshire

16.9 fl. oz. bottle

9 percent ABV

Sampled: Dec. 6, 2008

The younger brother of this double English ale, Very Bad Elf, was among the first brews I reviewed back in late 2005. I don't remember it as especially memorable.

Considering how little I knew about beer at the time, I likely drank it ice cold, when it called for room temperature.

Upon first whiff, I prefer the Seriously Bad.

This one has a heavenly, perfumed nose with a good trace of freshly cut flowers, backed by the pepperiness native to high-alcohol territory.

The grains emerge early, with notes of caramel and toffee mingled in. Seriously Bad Elf

At room temperature, Very Bad Elf’s surprisingly smooth and drinkable, without any concessions to excess hops or malt.

A wall of malt strikes in the finish, but it’s only knee-high compared to the double ales found on this side of the pond. It’s more a reminder that of its role in this masterful strong ale than something to eradicate taste buds.

I think I’ll have no trouble adopting this new English tradition. Seriously Bad Elf carries a bright lesson in how to craft strong Christmas ale.

Rating: 8/10

Sierra Nevada Harvest

Wet Hop Ale

12^th Release

6.8 percent ABV

Sampled: Nov. 30, 2008

The dry and wet hope are such amazingly different creatures. Just by presenting a key ingredient in a just –off-the vine manner, the makeup of the beer alters drastically.

Harvest produce the most flowery hop bouquet, but with a fresh twist – wet hopes imbue an oiliness and grassiness to the flavor, with darts of spearmint throughout. In essence, the drinker’s nose is one step removed from the ripened vine.

The body has a mix of lemon zestiness, burnt oranginess and grapefruit tartness, each claiming their moments of prominence. Sierra Nevada succeeds at getting those to flow into each other without any awkward twists.

As in past editions, the copious amounts of fresh hops give this ale a hop assault found in much stronger IPAs.

Usually I have little patience for American IPAs and their stifling hop contents, but in Harvest, the overabundance works. The facets emerging due to fresh hops round out that massive presence.

Besides, you don’t drink a fresh hop ale to rave about the malt breakdown.

Just coming off a cold, I can’t breakdown what flowers and herbs emerge from the nose. Harvest overwhelms in that regard. But I won’t complain. Sierra Nevada only produces it once a year, and whining would just mean waiting for the 2009 edition.

Rating 8.5/10