Summer Took a French Exit, the Bastard, But We Outsmarted Him.

Over in that photo, yonder, sits a pale ale on a bar on the top deck of a boat tied to a dock on a really swell lake for skiing or swimming or whatever else you like to do in the water. The sweat, as it always does, tells a story of cold on the inside and warm on the outside. Summer came too late and left too early for us. After four weeks in the Midwest we dropped very suddenly back into crisp, gray Brussels. A shock to the system.

Then, a few nights ago, I tasted one of the best beers I've ever had. Really. It had been waiting patiently in fermenter then luggage then cupboard then fridge to finally say aloha. My brother and I made it in mid-August, in our parents' garage, a week after he got married. We named it after my son, who watched from his grandpa's big burly arms. It was hot out.

The beer pours a bright and clear gold with a sturdy, creamy white head. It smells just like the boatloads of fruity, floral American hops with which we dry-hopped it. It has a firm bitterness that doesn't coat the tongue, getting swept away by lively carbonation and finishing pretty damned dry. It is utterly quaffable. To borrow from the Marines, "there are many beers like it, but this one is mine."

I only have four left in the fridge, and each is more valuable to me than anything in my cellar. Each is summer in a bottle. Four more chances to say aloha. Hello and goodbye.

All the Rest of You are Slackers.

As a matter of course I hunt around now and then for reviews of our little guidebook. We've had our share in the local mass media, but most of my favorites to read are random blogs... Regular folks who found the book and are enjoying it.

My favorite so far has to be Greasy Truckers Party Food. A Mr. George Ternent appears to be working his way through all 80 entries — and blogging each one. Consider me humbled and amazed. If he has half as much fun on his quest as we did researching it, he's in for a treat.

I've Been Saving Up for You.

Got a gazillion things I want to share, and a couple of them might even be interesting. Sadly, no time. Work to do and a suitcase to pack. Finishing up another piece for DRAFT (tell you later) and getting ready to spend a week in Germany. This trip will include a day in Bamberg, arguably the beer capital of Germany. Arguably.

The Belgian Beer Weekend and all its pomp really got my wheels turning. I came away even more cynical about the Belgian beer scene, if that's possible. For now let's just say I really missed Bruxellensis, which took a one-year hiatus. Hope to go into more detail soon, when my life gets back to normal. Or whatever resembles normal when there's a two-month-old in charge (who, incidentally, attended his first beer festival over the weekend. A Japanese TV crew was intensely interested in Mrs. Thirsty Pilgrim drinking a beer while carrying Junior on her chest. Watch for a very special documentary on alcoholic moms and dads on Nippon National Television...).

Meanwhile here's an announcement that shouldn't wait: The new Moeder Lambic is running only a few weeks late in its plans to open. Good news, I'd say. That means we're looking at late October/early November. Regardless, according to co-owner Jean Hummler, there will be a party the same day as the next Cantillon Public Brewing Session. That would be November 7. Assuming the bar is really open by then, I reckon the event should be open to the public. So there's a date to scratch into your calendar if you're around.

Right. Hungry suitcase, staring at me. Back in a week or so.

Under the Weather, Yet There is 'Work' to be Done.

Back in Belgium, jet-lagged and somewhat out of sorts. Got a big fest today and a tasting tomorrow, yet I can't tell my allergies from a cold. Can't smell a damned thing. A few good beers are likely to be wasted on me. Beats staying home.

And it must be Belgian Beer Weekend, since it's raining. Oddly appropriate and I don't mind at all. I've got my gear and the wet weather seems to clear away some of the casual drinkers. Just got to watch that the raindrops don't smear my notebook.

Last year I wasn't able to talk my way into the pre-fest ceremonies. This year I had no problem. I will be there to witness the consecration of the beer at the cathedral, the knighting ceremony at the city hall, and the "solemn inauguration" of the beer stands. That last one is the best—a blatant way for us VIPs (ha!) to drink for a while before you plebes can enter.

Need ideas for what to try? The list has a lot of chaff. How about St. Feuillien Saison, a dryish farmhouse ale that's getting good reviews. Or the Bockor Cuvée des Jacobins, a reddish-brown sour ale that Bockor uses as a blend in its sweeter beers. (This is likely the same as the damned interesting Foederbier I tried last year... Seems they are getting wise and marketing it a bit, especially for export to the U.S. Yet the Bockor team still seems to think that Belgians can't handle sour stuff and would prefer the sweet fruit beers. More on that another day, hopefully sooner rather than later.)

A couple of mysteries to me: The St. Feuillien Leon and the Verhaeghe Barbe d'Or. Both unknown names from solid breweries. Meanwhile the Maneblusser from Anker, a 6% blonde ale aiming to be the signature beer of Mechelen, is getting some hype.

So there are a few interesting things to try, besides some reliable things to drink—Saison Dupont, Timmermans Oude Gueuze, Petrus Aged Pale, etc.—if all else goes awry. Just hope I can taste them. Sniff sniff BLOW. Don't drink from my glass and please excuse the used tissue poking out of my coat pockets.

Quiet Death on the Hatters' Street.

The nature of guidebooks is that they're out of date as soon as they're published. No surprise, then, that the 80 all-stars from Around Brussels have suffered their first casualty.

The Chapeau d'As, a quiet brasserie just two blocks from the Grand Place at Rue des Chapeliers 36, shut its doors a short while back. It had a brief but interesting beer selection, paneled walls with benches, and a Magritte-esque painted ceiling complete with derby hats blowing around a blue sky. It was a place of peace. Except that now it's being replaced by a Scandinavian restaurant. Whatever that means.

But guess what? There are new all-stars on the horizon. And hopefully a second edition in a couple of years or so. In the meantime, 79 out of 80 ain't bad.

New Beer Mag on the Way from Belgium.

Howdy from the Ozarks, where I am kept fat and happy with a steady diet of barbecue, baseball and IPA. A little too quiet on the lake this morning. I can hear a train whistling over the hills yonder. Fish are biting. Or so I'm told. Today my only mission is to ride a Jet-Ski. Like I said, too quiet.

OK, check out this upcoming Belgian beer mag called Bubblzzz. It is theoretically possible that the name is less silly in French or Dutch than in English. I couldn't say for sure. Regardless, it's a beautiful magazine with lively writing. Its preview issue is ambitious, ranging from Trappist beers to Pierre Celis to Zythos to Lambics and more. I reckon the idea is to show advertisers the great potential here. Much of the photography is gorgeous.

And there's a glowing review of Around Brussels in 80 Beers (page 12). This is my favorite review yet, thanks to the phrase, "Joe a le flair d'un chien de chasse dopé au houblon," which is something like, "Joe has the nose of a hop-addicted hound dog."

How cool is that? Our beagle would be so proud if he could read it. Unfortunately Truman was born in Flanders, and has been raised as an American, so he can't really be bothered with French.

Gotta go. I think I smell Centennial, ever so slowly seeping out of one of those bottles in the fridge.

The Books Come to Life and Dance with the Janitor When the Shop Closes at Night.

Sitting on a farm in mid-Missouri, sipping coffee. Junior was hungry and it's damn early. Feeling strong and virile thanks to a steady diet of sunshine, lake time, red meat, and Boulevard beers. Also feeling like a salesman this morning.

I'd hope that Thirsty Pilgrim readers are a saturated market when it comes to owning the handy little guidebook, Around Brussels in 80 Beers. But I know that you have friends. And they, obviously, want to know where to get a copy of their own. Since you're too cheap to give them one.

Well, as you know, there's the instant mail order. Or if you're in Brussels there are a bunch of shops: Waterstones, Sterling Books, Filigraines, Bier Tempel, Beer Planet, Beermania, Delices et Caprices and a couple others. Still more to come.

Waterstones especially—and perhaps against their better judgement—has seen some potential in us. They bought a very large amount of books and put up a window promotion. Here you see the photographic evidence.

Mr. Jackson's books are below ours, but we won't let that go to our heads. And I don't think he'll hold it against us.

Today, a Sneak Preview...

Coming eventually: a TV documentary series hosted by Tim Webb, author of Good Beer Guide Belgium. What you see below is the very beginnings of the project. The man behind this little piece of magic is documentarian Taylor Brush, a fellow expat based in Belgium. There are funds to be raised and a lot of production to be done, which would in theory be seriously under way by next summer.

This is just the initial tease, with the slightly longer promo to come soon, as I understand it. But... very promising, no?

Beer and Breakfast in Plain English.

Up at 4 a.m. Which is no big deal these days, thanks to Junior. Aiming to get to the station early. Train leaves at 6:59 a.m., arrives around 8 a.m. London time. A two-hour trip, but it's as if England has awarded me with an extra hour of life. So I spend it on breakfast. My old friend the Betjeman Arms at St. Pancras, sadly, is no longer open that early. Not until 10 a.m. Fine. I consult Podge's guide... not too many (pub) options this early... and I'm off to the Fox & Anchor.

This is a classy Victorian gastro-pub near the Smithfield Meat Market. (I thought I'd seen London meat markets before, having been out to the late night clubs. But no, I'm told this is an actual working market where foodstuffs are bought and sold. Interesting.) There are several pubs in London as nice as the Fox & Anchor, but one way it distinguishes itself is the morning hours for market traders and serious breakfasting. By the way, it also has six rooms and they look pretty damned nice.

Food. I could have gone with Eggs Benedict, but if I'm priming for a Great British Beer Festival, I've got to go with the proper English breakfast, don't I? Fried eggs, thick bacon, two sausages, blood pudding, beans, juicy tomatoes, grilled mushrooms, toast. I'm forgetting something. Oh yeah, a pint. In this case, a pewter tankard of Nethergate's soft, nutty and fruity Dr. John's Panacea. It was decent.

My next choice was even better: a Meantime Helles on draft. Lively, bitter and refreshing. Attention British people: If you must have a lager, consider that one.

More on the festival, probably, when I get the chance.

It's Not Easy to Type with One Hand.

The little feller is asleep in my other arm. He's the full-time job these days. So it's with some mixed feelings that I report to you the demise of Beers of the World, a nice little British magazine that had published my work a couple of times. I had hoped it would do so again.

It really tickles my wife whenever I make some duckets from this funny beer writing thing. One source of tickling has left us. Sad news in this house.

There is some able pondering here and here about whether this demise signals "the end of beer writing as we know it," as Mr. Tierney Jones said, and Mr. Hieronymus said again. The speculation: There's just not many duckets in beer magazines, therefore not many duckets in clever, long-form feature writing about our favorite subject. Meanwhile those pesky bloggers are giving lots of clever (and not so clever) writing away for free.

So, a question: Are beer blogs the future of beer writing?

God, I hope not. Here's the thing: I sort of dislike reading beer blogs. Sorry, guys. Ironic and true.

This here laptop, you see, is for work. Even if I waste lots of time on it, and even if the work is often lots of fun. Reading blogs feels like work to me. Cracking a book or a magazine, however, and putting up my feet... now that's leisure time. That's pleasure.

Now that I think about it, I don't even like writing about beer blogging. I'd rather just write about beer. For people who really like beer. Enough then.

Tomorrow morning, obscenely early, I'm off to London for an afternoon at the Great British Beer Festival. I hope to squeeze an article or two out of it. Something that would give somebody, somewhere, pleasure. That would help justify the price of the train ticket. And tickle my wife. And if I can't sell anything, well... I've got this other project here, in my other arm.

Just hope he doesn't expect to go to a nice college.

Worth noting: The recent launch of Beer Connoisseur magazine. At the moment it is essentially a collection of beer blogs. But friend and colleague Chuck Cook reassures me that there are plans for a quarterly print version to launch in November. Here you should read Chuck's recent column on the new Moeder Lambic.