Advent Calendar Window 10 - Kerst Pater Christmas Beer.

"Good luck, I wish you well.

For all that wishes may be worth.

I hope that love and strength, are with you for the length

Of your time on earth"

Brouwerij Van Den Bossche is a brewery in East Flanders, Belgium I know best for their astounding Buffalo Stout that is probably my favourite Belgian Stout, a style not talked about enough on these shores. Into their 4th generation of brewers, the beers from their Pater Lieven range - inlcluding a blonde, brune and Wit beer - could be described as being a little traditional and not too stand-out by their own right. I've only ever sampled them once though and it's high tide I returned to them soon.

However, to the main event quickly today. Window Ten of the Advent Calendar featured a beer purchased last December.

Kerst Pater - Special Christmas Beer - 9%

Mocha colour with a ruby tinge, this beer evokes images throughout rather than tasting notes. The smell reminds me of the busy, candlelit, Belgian beer cafes by the water's edge, with old wooden barrels as tables. The dark currants and light spicing on the nose are merely the scent wafting as you eye more churches and architecture. The taste is of tawny woodlands - why does this beer make me think of squirrels running up owl infested trees? Dark treacle and liquorice on the throat. Dancing dark Belgian yeast on the tongue. It's sticky and long but just that little too sweet to really make you want to sit by the fireplace. By the end I want to solidify it into small blocks and sell them as penny chews. There's still something of a star filled snowy evening in the finish and a Christmas carol or two in the background. It's a dark, sweet, treacle treat that is one to create pictures in your mind. It's good, maybe not incredible though.

Christmas Spirit Rating: 33%. Not being in Belgium makes me sad.

Comments

The Pubs of Stalybridge Part One: The Stalybridge Seven.

And a touch more ... Rififi Nightclub - once the town's cinema - has stood empty and unused for four and a half years This is the continuation of my posts of regular pub crawls to try and get myself in more pubs and discover more. Whilst I grew up in an old hamlet that most were quick to distance themselves from, my address clearly stated that we belonged to Stalybridge. However distant the town centre felt I was a Stalybridger, a Stalybridgian, a Stalyian: you know I don’t think I’ve ever heard us given a name before. I’m going with Stalyian. After a few moves around the country and through various relationships, I didn’t expect to find myself still local to the town in 2017. Whilst my address hasn’t stated Stalybridge for 3 years, I still spend plenty of time in the town – not least as it houses my “local.” To many in the north-west, it is famous for its nickname of Staly Vegas , that came about (as far as I’m aware) through its late Nighties-through-to-N...

LIVERPOOL - the City that Craft Beer Forgot Part II (and found...)

After visiting Liverpool, one of my favourite cities, in February this year, and not impressing people with my rather hasty but honest verdict on the city’s lack of craft beer, I jumped at the chance to return last week and hoped to come out with a more attractive judgement. A couple of friends and I visited on a day out, with neither of them having been drinking in the city before. It was left to me – or rather, I volunteered – to plan the day’s itinerary and places to visit. I had a couple of new or unvisited places in mind myself, but knew it would be unfair to miss out on some of the city’s famous gems. With around 10-12 hours in which to fit in an entire city, I opted to concentrate on the famous Georgian Quarter and see if we had time for the Dale Street end later on. We planned to arrive in the city for around 11a.m. just in time to walk up Mount Pleasant to the new-on-me, though I believe it has been opened three years, Clove Hitch on Hope Street f...

WHEN CELEBRITIES DIE - THE INFINITY OF PUBS

Recently I was stood outside Huddersfield Railway Station waiting for my Replacement Bus Service. I was eating much needed food from a nearby fast food outlet and contemplating my next move. Other match-goers had gone home but I had over 50 minutes to wait for my bus. We’d already been to a few of our post-match regular spots and so I was contemplating somewhere new or different to pass the time now. I stood in St George’s Square, behind the statue of Harold Wilson, and pondered where I should waste my next hour. And pondered and pondered. After deliberation that ate into much of my allotted time, I walked down to the familiar setting of The Sportsman, realising that there wasn’t anywhere different to go at all. But whilst I deliberated, I cast my eye over the currently scaffold-covered George hotel opposite the station; a place I had been in once with my Dad. It’s downstairs public bar had stood as a firm and available option to match-goers fo...

Beer Compurgation

Search This Blog