Bieken and Barbar: Two Honey-Loaded Delights

Bieken Ale
Br. Boelens, Belsele
750 mL capped bottle
8.5 percent ABV
Sampled: March 20, 2009

The nose comes off with a graininess more common to saisons but with that key ingredient – honey – right in the mix. The head fizzles out into a thin, almost nonexistent lace. The label claims Bieken a descendant off brews native to Land van Waas, undoubtedly in Flanders. But the ancient tradition of brews based on honey shines through in any culture.

There’s a little herbal bouquet and some heather to round it out. Bieken feels like the product of an old brewing era. The honey falls in the right spot, beyond all the mango and lemon flavors, snuggling up against the finish. Murky orange in color, only slight traces of that fruit bubble up.

To just call it honey and be done with it does Bieken a disservice – it imbues this brew with a soft, mellow palate that other ales with honey can only gawk at. As a result, it closes clean, without a trace of bitterness, the gift which honey gives to ale.

Bieken pushes forward with the spiciness of a saison, but not the other factors. Despite being stronger than most saisons at 8.5 percent, Bieken offers a much smoother drinking experience. Don’t let the light sediment bother you; it’s not even a minor hindrance because the smoothness carries over to Bieken’s every facet.

In the end, there’s really only one rating for a beer so rounded and strong.
Rating: 8.5/10

Barbar Ale
Ale brewed with honey and spices
(Coriander and orange peel)
Brasserie Lefebvre, Quenast, Belgium
11.2 oz. capped bottle
8 percent ABV
Sampled: May 22, 2009


Forget the elephantine name – this ale never lumbers or sways.

From the first whiff, the burnt orange melts into the undeniable ingredient, honey. Despite its expense, it makes an ordinary beer intriguing. Plus, it’s connection to beer runs deep and ancient.

Barbar’s taste follows the template of the nose, skillfully shifting from the orange to the honey richness. The thin lace still lends a nice creaminess, and the effervescence common to many strong Belgians never manifests.

The honey imparts softness to the taste, and keeps the hops (Styrian and Hallertau) from sneaking in any bitterness. The bitterness comes on the front end, thanks to the coriander and orange. Most Belgian ales might not meet muster of the Bavarian Purity Law, but it’s hard to argue with the results of the spicing.

Barbar deserves credit for dodging easy categorization, picking elements of tripels, Belgian wit, bier de miel and Belgian golden ales. Mashing them together here works wonders, creating ale that comes off complex and easy to quaff.

As much as I enjoy Barbar, it outpaces Bieken by a trunk at least.

Rating: 9/10