Highlight #10: Le Resto des Saisons

The name of the place is La Ruchette, and it's in a village north of Charleroi called Viesville. That's about four kilometers from the optimistically named Brussels South airport.

I knew nothing about the Ruchette a few days prior.  It was not on any of my maps or to-do lists.  But a brewer recommended it, and that can lead to surprises.  So we went to check it out.

Near as we could tell, the "Hive" is the main attraction in Viesville.  It's on a square called Place des Combattants, complete with requisite war statue.  Its wide terrace on this quiet square allows outdoor eating and drinking in fine weather.  It was, and we did.

As it turns out, Viesville's village pub stocked 120 well-chosen beers, heavy on Hainaut regionals, saisons, hoppy things, and 75cl bottles.  Not bad for a little surprise.  In the refrigerator by the bar we spotted other bottles not on the beer card, a sign that the owner is always looking for new things.  He said as much to us later, and recently told me by email that he's updated the list again.  So the number may be bigger now.

It's a meat-heavy menu; we went for the daily "lunch rapide" special: house steak-frites.  The frites were not dumped on the plate but nicely presented in one of those dainty cone stands, like this one.  We were pleased.

Oh, and we drank.

The list features Dupont, Ellezelloise, Géants, Rulles, Senne, plus some lambics, all the Trappists.... We knew right away we wanted something saison-ish in a 75cl bottle to share, but which?  In the fridge we spotted a bottle from the would-be Brasserie Deseveaux, a buckwheat saison called Sarazen.  But you already knew that, because you peeked at the photo.  Turned out to be a fine food beer.  Just barely off-dry with a touch of caramel, but its most endearing trait was an honest sort of graininess throughout.

Incidentally, I recently contacted brewer Sébastien Deseveaux, who makes the beer at Proef, as well as a newer one with oats called Saison Avena.  He aims to have his own 15 hl kit installed this summer.  We'll keep an eye on it.

Anyway: one or two more there for you Saison Road-trippers to add to the list.
So for me, that's a highlight. More to come. Here's an explanation if you're wondering what I'm up to.

Brussels as Culinary Amusement Park.

Don't you like articles that make you hungry and thirsty? It would be masochistic, but I reckon we are mostly gastronomes and people of plenty. We like hunger and thirst because we're pretty sure the next plate and glass are just around the corner. The anticipation increases the joy when we arrive.

But I digress.

Just wanted to point out today's Birmingham Post (that's England, not Alabama) piece on Brussels foodie fun, connected to this year's Brusselicious -- a city-wide, yearlong food festival. It's got Michelin-starred meals aboard moving tram cars, praline tastings, veal cheeks, bintje potatoes and Moeder Lambic. It's got Cantillon Kriek, Taras Boulba and Géants Gouyasse. I read it twice.

(An aside: When are Brussels world-class top-shelf eateries going to start taking the beer more seriously as an accompaniment to their food -- more fitting and usually more compatible than French wine -- and not just a rustic ingredient? There are some who do but they're not usually the ones with Michelin stars. On the plate many are bruxellois but in the glass they are still trying to be Paris.)

While we lived there we treated the place as a round-the-clock food festival. But that was not quite correct. There is something to be said for those moments when the collective minds of Brussels get together and demonstrate their ability to go over the top... all at once.

Damme the Children.

I meant to post this Damme beer festival thing a couple of weeks ago, but sadly it got lost in this stack of toddler birthday party invitations. I mean, what the hell, you tell me: Do two-year-olds really have friends? Four-year-olds, maybe. But not two-year-olds.

Speaking of four-year-olds: That's the age of the Dams Bier Festival, scheduled this year for October 2. The club that organizes this one is called 'TONafhankelijk Biergen(o)otschap, which has way too many consonants, capital letters, and puncuation marks, but it's not like anyone is going to ask you to pronounce it. You just hand over your beer-token money to the nice fellows and say, "Dank u wel."

Damme is just outside of Bruges. This year's event is attracting some pretty interesting breweries from the vicinity and beyond: Kerkom, Légendes (a.k.a. Ellezelloise and Géants), Senne, Struise and Viven are among the beer-peddlers.

Viven I remember clearly from the Bruges festival a couple of years ago, thanks to an American-style Imperial IPA. Maybe not the style I would imitate, but frankly it's refreshing to see new beer companies making something besides the same old sweet blonds and bruins. Incidentally, the firm appears to still be brewing its recipes at Proef.

I guess Viven is about two years old, if we count Bruges as its debut. It does appear to have friends. I wonder when it will get the keys to a brewery of its own?

A Liter of Stille Nacht. Sharing Recommended.

Everyone has their tastes, and mine tend to shy away from sweet beers. Another thing that everyone has: exceptions. One of my favorite exceptions is Stille Nacht. Fresher bottles tend to be honey-sweet, with great malty depth, only barely balanced by bitterness and alcoholic warmth. More balance and greater complexities emerge after a year or two of age.

Anyway: Moeder Lambic Fontainas currently has Stille Nacht on draft, along with a slew of other Belgian winter and holiday beers (including Rulles Meilleurs Voeux, Senne Equinox and Zinnebir Xmas, Dupont Avec Les Bons Voeux, Gouden Carolus Christmas, Tournay Noël, Gouyasse Noël, and more). And because I think I failed to mention it before, Fontainas also has its draft beers available by the pitcher — a true rarity in Belgium.

These 1L pichets cost the same as four 25cL glasses or three 33 cL's, so there's no deal to be had. But it's not about thrift. It's about quantity. This makes a lot of sense for beers like Taras Boulba, for example, at a refreshing 4.5% abv. My thirsty belly laughs at 25cL of that stuff and demands a half-liter. But a 1L pichet? Well, that will do. Do I have to share?

Now, Stille Nacht. It's 12% abv. A pitcher of that stuff should be just evil and wrong. Except that it's good and right. Must be one of those exception things.

Witches' Brew.

American beer lovers see breweries as tourist destinations – as in "Let's tour the brewery." It's something to do, and it's beer-related. Fine. Belgians, on the other hand, appear to see breweries in the same way they see museums – as in "Interesting, but where's the café?"

As Harry Pearson writes in A Tall Man in a Low Land, "A Belgian hill without a café athwart its crest is a hill that goes unclimbed." Likewise, a Belgian brewery without a bar attached is a brewery that goes unvisited. And let's be honest: Whose favorite part of a tour is the enlightening lecture on brewing process, or the thrill of a bottling machine in action? The Belgian approach skips all that nonsense and goes straight to the beer at the end.* Saves you valuable drinking time, during which you are free to discuss the rudiments of top-fermentation or the perils of short lagering times, or whatever.

From that perspective, one of the better brewery cafés we've found is Ellezelloise, in the Pays des Collines region of northern Hainaut. You kill two birds here because the drinking room offers a full view of the brewing room.

Oddly, it's not so well known. Ellezelloise flies its broomstick under the radar of many enthusiasts. Maybe they just don't like the beers. Or maybe they forget about them most of the time. One importer told me that Ellezelloise was definitely not on his list of best Belgian breweries. Its beers are absent from 100 Belgian Beers to Try Before You Die by Tim Webb and Joris Pattyn (although most of them get 4 to 5 stars in Tim's last Good Beer Guide to Belgium). They get high scores on Ratebeer and elsewhere, but nobody talks about them much.

Well. It would be pretty damn boring if everyone loved all our favorite beers, wouldn't it?

From the grainy and quaffable Saisis to the big and roasty Hercule Stout, the Ellezellois beers share a house characteristic: they're generally dry as a desert. The Saison 2000 shows more floral, fruity and clove esters than others of its kind, thankfully made serious by a dose of hop bitterness. And in numerous Belgian cafés, just when you start to fret that there's nothing interesting on offer, the Quintine Blonde often makes a timely appearance near the bottom of the drink card. Altogether it's a rock-solid stable of beers.

Things got confusing a couple of years ago when Ellezelloise in Ellezelles and Géants in Irchonwelz merged to becomes Brasseries des Légendes. Nobody really calls them by that name so I stick with the old ones, since they still appear to brew in both locations.

Where was I? The café. It's called La Cantine á Quintine, which rhymes if you pronounce it right. All the beers from Ellezelloise and Géants are available here for €3 a pop. There are croques and crêpes and ice cream and other things to munch on. The witch theme gives it a Halloweenish sort of feel (a sign out front advertised a used broom with only 600 flight hours). The wide terrace outside offers a view of the hilly farmland. And perhaps most impressively: It's open every day from 10.00 to 19.00. Still, this is Belgium. Call ahead to make sure.

The address is Rue Guinaumont 75, 7890 Ellezelles, telephone +0473 72 01 47. And yes, they can even lead you on an actual brewery tour with advance notice. The cost is €3.20 and includes a drink.

*One downside for foreigners and geeks is that good brewery tours are relatively rare in Belgium. There are a few great ones – Cantillon and De Dolle, for example. Others demand high fees or ridiculously large groups – say, 25 or 50 people – to make it worth their while. They are missing opportunities, but that's a topic for another day.

Speculatin' on a Hoppy Hypothesis.

I'm not a "hophead" per se. I'm not very interested in uber-double-imperial-IPAs or the latest hoppy monsters unleashed by extreme American breweries. But I did hone my palate on American craft beer. And I do pine for Belgian ales with more hop character--especially if they can also be refreshing.

Here's some welcome news then: Hoppy Belgian beers are on the rise. Anyway, they are according to all of my sloppy anecdotal evidence.

Witness the interest in products like Chouffe Houblon, made strictly for the U.S.A. but guzzled down like mad in Brussels whenever Delirium Café opens a keg. The locals also appeared to be loving the stuff on tap at the brewery's resto in the Ardennes. And it was popular enough that Moortgat rushed out its expensive and clumsy Duvel Tripel Hop to grocery stores before the holidays last year.

The small Senne brew firm exports its bitter and quaffable ales, but meanwhile its working overtime to meet growing demand in the local market. Estivale from La Rulles is also a popular choice. Géants recently hopped up its Saison Voison to nice effect.

And the last Zythos festival, a popular event to launch new products, offered a wave of hop-focused beers: Anker's Gouden Carolus Hopsinjoor, Alvinne Extra Restyled, Lupulus from Les 3 Fourqets (run by the Achouffe co-founders, incidentally), Slaapmutske Dry-Hopped Lager (made at Proef), and Cuvée De Ranke, a hoppy blonde blended with lambic. That's just off the top of my head. The next year will no doubt bring more.

Here's what I'd really like to know: Is this only because of the American export market, on which most of the small breweries depend? Or is it possible that Belgian drinkers also long for stuff that's not just sweet and strong and also isn't the same-old lager?

Guess it doesn't matter much. Long as it finds its way into our bellies. Meanwhile, feel free to blame Belgian brewers for their part in the global hops shortage.

All That and a Bag of Chips.

Late report from Open Brewing Day: We hit all three of our priorities at Drie Fonteinen, Dubuisson and the castle at Géants. The last one was probably the most fun, as a medieval atmosphere invaded the courtyard amid perfect weather. Minstrels and jesters ran around and bemused a sizable chunk of Ath and Irchonwelz beer lovers. Outside the castle a sporting dude in knight's getup allowed a gang of young whippersnappers to beat the hell out of him with rubber swords. There was an archery range, which to me seemed less than brilliant alongside copious amounts of Belgian beer. And there was much revelry.

Most exciting for me: the redemption of Saison Voisin. Ah, saisons... I could go on and on and on about them, but not today. For now I'll tell you about this one: The Voisin is generally a touch maltier and darker than other beers calling themselves saisons. It's also been a touch sweeter without much bitterness. On tap, fresh at the brewery, it was another thing altogether. The hops got all serious on me. That plus moderate dryness made for a very refreshing beer on a damn fine spring afternoon. Could be that the recipe has changed a bit since merging with Ellezelloise, whose beers lean on the dry and bitter side. I hope so. Or it could be that I've got no idea what I'm talking about. Also very possible.

In Beersel, we got a sneak preview of Armand's new tasting café at Drie Fonteinen. Sadly there was no glimpse of the café's beer list yet. It should open for real sometime this month, in theory. That's a must-visit if you enjoy real lambic and plan to be in Belgium this summer. Tell Armand that Joe sent you. If you're lucky, he might pretend that he remembers who the hell you're talking about.

The Dubuisson brewery just outside of Pipaix is also worth a visit, especially if you have a taste for the strong and sweet. The weather wasn't quite right for barley wines; I prefer winter and a snifter before bedtime. But the tour was a hoot anyway. The animated film starring the Dubuisson troll is much funnier if your French is as weak as mine. The gym-sized, high-tech bottling machine was truly impressive. Best of all, the beer tent at the end sold bags of chips for 2 euros.

Now, I'm used to be gouged by snack prices in Brussels pubs. So I assumed I was plunking down coins for a tiny snack pack. But behold! It was one of those giant, extra-large bags from the grocery store. They don't skimp on the chips in Pipaix, no sir. They do it right. And every few feet around the tent, there was a poster warning you to use a "Bob," or designated driver.

This is true wisdom when your beer is 12 percent booze.

Belgian Brewers are Famous Liars.

So, Sunday is Open Brewing Day in Belgium. Twenty-eight breweries will open their doors to you and other rabble.

It's not exactly a representative cross-section of Belgian beer-makers. They are mostly medium- to large-sized breweries, and mostly Flemish. Of course there are exceptions to both. Have a look at the list and see what grabs your fancy. Here are three that are on my radar:

3 Fonteinen: Lambicmeister Armand Debelder has been busy putting together a new lambic-tasting café that will be attached to the brewery and shop. At this café, amateurs and connoisseurs will be able to sample his usual beers plus a range of special (and possibly expensive) editions. Some have been waiting in his cellar for years just for the opportunity to slide across my palate, I'm sure of it. His plan was to have the café ready to open, at least temporarily for Sunday. There is some suspense (in my mind, anyway) about whether it will be ready. Even if it's not, I recommend a full-on meal in brother Guido's restaurant. Wash it down with a pitcher of kriekenlambic. I promise you won't regret it.

Dubuisson: As the Belgian Beer Board reported over on its forum, the brewery known for the mighty Bush barley wine should have something special available. The Christmas version of Bush as been aging for seven months in a French burgundy barrel. Apparently there will be several barrels more using the Bush amber. This is a strong and sweet but complex brew in its original form, and it will be very interesting to see what the wood does to it. I'm a drinker, not a brewer, so I don't really see how it can go wrong. So it's worth a visit to Pipaix on Sunday to find out.

Légendes: Two of the better Hainaut craft breweries, Géants and Ellezelloise, recently merged to become Brasserie des Légendes. The union marries witches to giants, but by all appearances we are still talking about two separate breweries with a shared name. The Géants part of the brewing goes on in Irchonwelz and Sunday gives you a chance to see a working brewery inside a rehabbed old castle. In the past the brewery has been open only on summer Sunday afternoons, but last summer I believe they were closed for renovation. The other brewery, in Ellezelles, makes a few of my favorite beers with its Saison 2000, Saisis blanche and Hercule Stout. That's not on the list for Sunday, but in fact the Ellezelloise tasting room is open to the public most days of the week.

Regarding the headline: I kid. But when visiting any brewery you're advised to be polite and proclaim your love for all its beers. Nod your head, smile, and accept any sort of nonsense the brewers tell you. Just take it all with a healthy grain of salt.