Here's the articl (in two posts) so you don't have to give those ******** any clicks.
Leave the Abbey, Join the Playground: The Crucial Influence of Foreign Breweries on Belgian Beer
Feature by
Will Hawkes | May 2017 |
Given its proximity to
Cantillon, you might expect
Brasserie de l’Ermitage to be a Lambic brewer. You would be wrong. “We’ll brew an American Pale Ale, a hoppy beer dry-hopped with Citra and Jasmine flowers and green tea, and a hoppy Porter,” says founder Nacim Menu, whose new brewery will be a mere 200 yards from Cantillon on Rue Lambert Crickx when it opens this summer. But that’s not all. “Two wheat beers,” he adds. Witbier? “No, a white IPA, and another made with Sicilian grapefruit zest when it’s in season.”
Belgian beer is changing. Menu, 30, and his co-founders, François Simon, 27, and Henri Bensaria, 28, are part of a new wave taking inspiration from what’s happening across the Atlantic in the United States and across the channel in England. A nation whose remarkable beer culture was recently recognized by UNESCO appears to be falling for the siren call of India Pale Ale.
For some, this will seem tragic. Belgium, though, has always absorbed influences from elsewhere, whether it’s the English-style barrel-aging and blending that defines
Rodenbach or the German-style lagering that produces the country’s most popular beers such as
Jupiler and
Stella Artois. In fact, this is the world’s greatest little brewing nation partly because it has been able to absorb the best of elsewhere and make it its own.
That process is well underway at
Brussels Beer Project, the most visible manifestation of Belgium’s latest evolution. Located a stone’s throw from the Canal Bruxelles-Charleroi on Rue Antoine Dansaert, Brussels Beer Project has been criticized by some in the Belgian brewing community for what they see as an over-reliance on marketing and the fact that much of its beer is contract-brewed, at
Brouwerij Anders in Halen, some 40 miles away. “We are not the sons or grandsons of brewers and we haven’t done it the traditional way,” says founder Olivier de Brauwere, pointedly.
De Brauwere, a Brussels native, and his French partner-in-crime Sébastien Morvan, both 33, don’t seem particularly chastened. Their brewery, which contains a 10-hectoliter (about 8.5 barrel) brewhouse where smaller-run beers are made, is plastered with slogans that are an unapologetic rejection of that criticism. “We Are Who We Are” is spread across one wall and ceiling, while, in the taproom, another wall reads “Hello 21st Century Goodbye Middle Ages.” On the brewery’s website, meanwhile, virtual visitors are encouraged to “Leave the Abbey, Join the Playground.”
“We feel that Belgium built its
lettres de noblesse thanks to an uncompromising spirit of exploration, but that success can be a two-edged sword,” says Morvan. “This, combined with the weight of tradition, put some brakes on innovation.” And that’s something the owners of Brussels Beer Project can’t be accused of: they’ve produced 55 different beers since the brewery took flight in 2013. They use plenty of hops, but also pursue barrel-aging (32 barrels are stacked behind a glass panel in the taproom), and have brewed with flowers, fruit, tea, and bread. Moreover, they focus on collaboration, having drawn support and much-needed cash from a group of 2,500 crowdfunders.
All this adds up to a company that seems markedly different from the previous generation of Belgian craft brewers, such as
De Struise or
De Ranke, which first blazed a trail for adventure and experimentation more than a decade ago. It’s telling that when asked to name an inspiration, De Brauwere says
BrewDog, the Scottish brewery that has changed beer in the UK with a fusillade of hops, hype, and bulldog obstinacy. Brussels Beer Project seems to be made of the same stuff. “They are doing an amazing job,” gushes De Brauwere about BrewDog. “They shook the market.”
The craft brewing revolution as we know it may have begun in the US, but the latest wave is reaching Belgium via the UK. Young Belgians can only dream about
Russian River or
Hill Farmstead; instead it’s London’s scene, nearby and teeming with intoxicating possibilities, that inspires them. “We are very influenced by the English scene,” says Menu. “
The Kernel,
Brew By Numbers,
Beavertown,
Anspach & Hobday … there are lots of American beers I’d like to try but I haven’t had the chance.”
A visit to
Malt Attacks, a bottle and homebrew shop on the elegant Avenue Jean Volders in the Brussels neighborhood of Saint-Gilles, makes his point clearly. Opened by Antoine Pierson in October 2014, it sells Belgian beer (but not Trappist ale) alongside offerings from around Europe, particularly Scandinavia and the UK. One day in early February, there were two draft beers available from the growler filler (the first, Pierson says, in Belgium):
Wild Beer Madness IPA and
Magic Rock Magic 8 Ball Black IPA, both of them brewed in England.
“Things have changed since I opened,” says Pierson, 36, who used to work as a data analyst. “Customers are much more open to international beer. Some people are really into hoppy beers but they want Belgian stuff only; when I tell them those kind of beers are mainly from the US or UK, and what they’re drinking is an interpretation of that, though, they are happy to try it.”
Malt Attacks is part of a growing number of craft beer bars and bottle shops scattered throughout the country. Led by
Moeder Lambic’s two Brussels bars, this breed is as likely to sell you a bourbon-barrel aged Barleywine from Estonia as a classic Trappist ale from Chimay—more likely, in fact. Take
Beerlovers’ Bar in Antwerp (whose self-conscious modernity is expressed in that recurrent craft brewing design motif, beer served from taps on the back wall), where you can pick up
Põhjala Odravein (yes, an Estonian bourbon barrel-aged Barleywine) alongside the likes of
De La Senne and Brussels Beer Project.
A liking for foreign beer is not all that modern, though. Simply walk across town to Antwerp’s superb city museum, MAS, for a reminder of just that: In the World Port gallery, visitors will find an 1887 painting called “A Sunday Lunchtime at St Annike,” depicting the city’s beau monde enjoying their leisure time. And what is the gentleman in the foreground drinking? Why, it’s a bottle of
Bass.