The Naked Pint (28 page)

The French are known for their winemaking abilities, but as we learned while eating bean soup and sausages in northern Italy with not a noodle in sight, European cultures aren’t necessarily defined by hard and fast borders. Take Bière de Garde, for instance. Originally a beer style from the Pas-de-Calais region of France, Bière de Garde, which means “beer for keeping,” is a beer born from an area in France that was too far north to grow grapes but perfect for growing hops. Just like Saison, Bière de Garde was brewed in the cold months, cellared in the warmer months, and meant to last (or keep) throughout the summer. And, just like Saison, this beer is considered a farmhouse ale, having many of the same earthy, rustic characteristics. But Bière de Garde is different from Saison in a couple of significant ways. Bière de Garde usually has a pronounced sweetness and uses darker malts and a different yeast strain, which produces less pepper and citrus and more deep, woody flavors. This style has complex herbal characteristics, such as anise and fresh rosemary, and lacks the tartness of a Saison.

Currently made year round, this style has several substyles and is featured as Blonde (blond), Ambrée (amber), or Brune (brown). There is also another seasonal variation, a style called Bière de Mars (Beer of March), which isn’t meant for keeping but meant for drinking immediately. (Yeah, now we’re talkin’!) The alcohol content of Bière de Garde is about the same as that of Saison: 6% to 8% ABV. Keep some of these in your stomach:

D
amn, these brothers can brew. Devoted monks, in order to support their way of life, have modestly created what are, in our humble opinion, some of the best beers in the world. In fact, these are the only beers in the world for which we’d be willing to don brown robes, forgo makeup, and impersonate men. Brewers the world over have attempted to duplicate the style and grace of these beers, some with great success, but Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell said it best when they sang, “Ain’t nothing like the real thing, baby.” While our staunch reverence for these beers is sometimes mocked, our admiration will never die. The time has come for us to give you Trappist Ales.

If you are studying wines, one of the first things you learn about is something called an AOC, the Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée, which is basically a law that protects the place of origin of the wine and sets geographical boundaries and guidelines for style, quality, and flavor. For instance, you’ve heard of a Burgundy wine. Well, Burgundy is the name of an AOC in east-central France that is the home to delicious and famous super-high-quality Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays. According to the law, you cannot call your wine a Burgundy unless the grapes in your wine come from that particular established geographic region. In the beer world, there is something similar called Trappist or Trappiste beers.

How will you know that a beer is a Trappist? It’s all in the logo. These beers have an official logo/seal on the label that says, “Authentic Trappist Product” in white, with a red-brown background contained within a white-rimmed hexagon. If you see this sign, be sure to drink the brew and begin your religious experience. Trappist Ales have strict regulations, which are constantly monitored by an organization called the International Trappist Association (ITA). First of all, the beer must be brewed within the walls of a Trappist monastery, not contracted or farmed out to anyone else but on the actual premises of the monastery. Second, the beer must be brewed by the monks
themselves
or by someone who is under their complete control. Either way, the beer must be brewed to the monks’ age-old exact specifications, and no one else’s. Third, the brewery must not overshadow the fact that the monks are men of God first and brewers second. The making of beer and all brewery business take a backseat to the monastic way of life. Along those lines, there is a final rule governing Trappist breweries: the credo that the monks are not to brew beer for profit. What? That’s right, even though it might go against our sensibilities, the ITA’s rule says that the money that comes from selling Trappist beer is to go only toward living expenses and sustaining the monastery; the rest is to go to charity. Wow ... those guys must live like monks!

The ITA is not messing around. You could be the strictest monk, making great beer, but if the ITA says that you don’t qualify as a Trappist brewery, then you aren’t one, and all the self-flagellation and fasting in the world won’t get you there. And if you say you are a Trappist brewery and you haven’t been approved by the ITA, you might possibly get sued for using the name and logo. In addition, if you already have the Trappist seal of approval from the ITA, and you let secular people take control of the brewery or you become too commercialized or slack in sustaining the quality of the beer, the ITA can yank that name and logo right away from you. And don’t think they won’t do it. Like the French with their wine, the Belgians take their Trappist Ales
very
seriously.

With all of these rules and regulations, wars, revolutions, lawsuits, and strife, only seven Trappist breweries exist today. Yes, seven. That’s it. Six are in Belgium, and one is in the Netherlands. And they still create amazing beers with centuries-old recipes and traditions. The seven Trappist breweries are (drumroll please) the following: