As you might guess, I sample a lot of different beers in my line of work. I make it my business to acquaint myself with the wide array of recognized beer styles – over 125 and counting, according to the Brewer’s Association – as well as the subtle variations within a particular style.

Gaining a comprehensive knowledge of stylistic similarities and differences gives me a benchmark by which I can evaluate a beer based more on its intrinsic merit and less on its marketing hype or mystique. That’s the idea anyway.

While it is truly a burden to have to sample so many beers- – and even more of an imposition to get paid for it – the task is not without its rewards, of course. I suffer for my art, I know. This week’s featured beer style reminded me that great beer should never be taken for granted and that the reward is indeed in the journey itself, never the destination.
Rodenbach Small
Like most things, even the sampling of good beer can get a bit mundane from time to time. You come to know what to expect in a particular beer style and most examples deliver on that expectation to some degree or they don’t. End of story. However, the process can occasionally begin to feel a little mechanical and tired.

I’m not so much talking about experiencing “palate fatigue” from drinking too many beers, as I have a general blasé attitude toward the activity of beer tasting and analysis itself. Let me tell you, when beer drinking starts to feel like work, you’re definitely doing something wrong! As is often the case with any writing gig of mine, I typically wait for some sort of inspiration to kick start my creative process.

My muse this week came in the form of an encounter with a beer style I’ve had many times before and count among my favorites. But for some odd reason I was able to appreciate it anew this week and simply enjoy the beer for the beer’s sake. After all, beer really ought to be an end in itself, not a mere means to an end whether that end happens to be meeting a journalistic deadline or getting totally snockered.

West Flanders is home to an indigenous beer style known as Flanders Red – an immensely complex, relatively low-alcohol sour ale with many characteristics in common with a very tannic red wine. This is where it gets its famous moniker, “the Burgundy of Belgium.”

Probably the most famous example of the Flanders Red style comes from the Rodenbach brewery. The style highlights two very famous brewing techniques – aging and blending. In the most common examples, a batch of the beer is aged for a couple of years in large oak vats which contain the special bacteria responsible for the puckeringly acetic character that helps define the style. Another batch of fresh (young) beer is then blended with the oak-aged beer to round out the flavors and create a somewhat more balanced but still immensely complex ale.

Brouwerij Verhaeghe's Duchesse De BourgogneSome versions, such as Rodenbach’s Grand Cru, contain only the aged beer in order to accentuate fruity notes reminiscent of tree fruit and really play upon the acetic bite and the roundness of the wood. In order to gain such complexity and character in a relatively “small” beer, up to 20 different yeast strains and beer-friendly bacteria (several that are avoided like the plague in wines, by the way) may be used in multiple fermentation stages to achieve the multifarious harmony that is the Flanders Red style.

Traditionally, a Flanders Red presents itself a deep red to reddish-brown color, derived from the specialty malts used in the mash and the relative age of the beer. The aged versions can be predominantly a ruddy brown color. Expect good clarity in each version and a white or slightly sand-colored head of considerable depth and decent retention. In the nose, expect notes of cherry, plum and apple intermingled with some bready malts and even a hint of chocolate.

The sour characteristics of the beer can be quite pronounced and carry hints of vinegar and earthy, spicy phenols. This is one of my favorite aspects of the style; one whiff of the heady aromas and my saliva glands kick into full swing well before the first taste. The palate, like the nose, is intensely fruity and can vary between moderately tart and intensely acetic. The malt background provides a slightly sweet balance to the sourness of the beer. The mouth feel is generally medium, with low to average carbonation levels and a slightly astringent, tannic finish not unlike a cellared red wine. A dry finish with lingering acetic notes leaves a clean, crisp finish with some vague recollection of fruit and wood on the tongue. 

Leave it to a beer style with such subtlety and complexity to rouse me from my apparent malaise and remind me that there is nothing humdrum about a well-crafted, flavorful ale.

Whether it’s Rodenbach, Duchesse De Bourgogne, or a domestic example like New Glarus Enigma, a Flanders Red is proof that a “big” beer doesn’t have to be a high-alcohol beer. The Belgians were brewing extreme beers, mind you, hundreds of years before the trend caught on over here in the States.

Like its cousin from East Flanders, the Oud Bruin (old brown) – a slightly maltier, sour ale aged in stainless steel rather than in wood –  the Flanders Red style is truly one of the most complex and engaging beer styles in the world. If you’ve not experienced it, seek it out, pucker up and quit being bored by your beer.

Statistics: O.G: 1.048 – 1.057, IBUs: 10- 25, SRM: 10 – 16, ABV: 4.6 – 6.5%

Popular Examples: Rodenbach Klassiek, Rodenbach Grand Cru, Brouwerij Verhaeghe Duchesse De Bourgogne or Vichtenaar, New Glarus Enigma.

Drink Wisely!

Shawn Connelly

sconnelly@beerconnoisseur.com