The beer was a present from my sister who lives in Abu Dhabi and writes an urban planning blog, but spent the holidays in France with my mom who brought the beer back. So thanks to both of you.

The biere de garde that I tried was Jenlain Ambree and it leaves me wanting more. I’m working from memory because I had this beer last night with some beer-connoiseur friends, but I’d generally describe this style as American ESB hopping and malt balance in an amber beer with fairly high carbonation.

Other resources suggest that there should be some farm-house flavours in bieres de garde, but I didn’t notice any.

Wyeast recommends pretty much every lager yeast for biere de garde style, but they also have a seasonal so I might have to start asking around and the local homebrew shop.

I was with company last night and didn’t think to harvest the yeast. Oh well, maybe I’ll learn from my mistakes.

According to various sources online, the blonde and brune versions of this style that are quite different from the ambree. The brune in particular supposedly uses fewer hops so I’d definitely like to get my hands on some other examples of this style. In the meantime, I think I’ll try making my own version of the ambree.

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My First Biere de Garde

As everybody knows (because the world loves Canadian history), it is Quebec city’s 400th anniversary. It may not compare favourably to cities in Europe and Asia, but, in North America, Quebec is winning.

And beer drinkers are winning too. Unibroue, the Quebec-based Belgian-style brewery responsible for Maudite, Trois Pistoles, Blanche de Chamblix and a number of other fine beers, released a 400th anniversary limited edition Belgian ale called Quatre Centieme.

Quatre Centieme

I’m a fan of Unibroue’s beers even though they are now owned by some international mega-brew conglomercorp. Actually that might be why it is so easy to get their beers here on the other side of the continent. My favourite is their dark-strong Trois Pistoles, but I will quite happily imbibe anything they have to offer.

Enough rambling, lets drink some beer.

Connect the Dots

My first impression is that this beer is sort of like Orval without the Brett. I think the two beers share citrus-like characteristics which I guess must come from the hops, but I had always assumed the citrus flavours in Orval came from the Brett. I like the Brett in Orval, so Quatre Centieme doesn’t doesn’t score as high as Orval, but it’s still quite good.

One of the first things I react to in strong beers is phenols. Phenols are fine in most Belgian beers according to BJCP guidelines. To my pallett, phenols impart a rubbing alcohol character (although it is most commonly described as medicinal). According to my guidelines, however, phenols had better be at a minimum. I don’t like phenols in my beer. Quatre Centieme sits at the low end of the Belgian-beer phenol spectrum so I’m quite pleased. Quatre Centieme is better than Unibroue’s Maudite and definitely better than their Fin du Monde.

I’d love to get confirmation on this, but I think Unibroue uses the same yeast for all their beers and I think this comes out in the aromas of their beers. I’ll definitely be paying more attention to this aspect of other Unibroue beers in the future.

The Fly is Supposed to be in the Beer

Going back to the citrus flavours and the Orval comparison, I wonder if maybe this beer doesn’t have a little Brett and was just released earlier than Orval. I suggested earlier that the citrus flavour came from the hops, but I haven’t convinced myself. If I can find another bottle (I bought the last one at the local liquor store) then I will cellar it and try not to drink it too soon.

How Would I Brew It?

Ignoring the fact that I have no idea how to produce a similar beer, I might try adding yuzu juice to the beer. I think the yuzu flavours would blend well with the citrus-like characters of the beer.

As a short aside, yuzu is a Japanese citrus fruit that tastes like a cross between an orange and a grapefruit except that it is too dry and bitter to eat on its own. Normally, you (I, because Japanese people use yuzu for more than just liquor) sqeeze a few drops of yuzu in to a glass of warm sake. Drinking sake this way is called atsukame and is definitely worth trying before you decide that you don’t like sake.

Hang-Over-Worthiness

Definitely hang-over worthy. Because it is limited edition, I recommend you try to get your hands on Quatre Centieme the next time you are at a beer store that has a decent selection. But if you can’t get it, don’t go on a pilgrimage to Quebec just to find Quatre Centieme. It is very good, but not great.

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Unibroue Limited Edition-Quatre Centieme Review

I think the BJCP judging framework is useful for educating the palette and critically evaluating your own beers. It’s a good learning device, but not so useful for evaluating a beer’s quaff-worthiness.

So, with all this in mind, I’ve decided on a framework for beer reviews with the goal of helping to learn how to be a better brewer and deciding how to spend your beer-bucks.

Connect the Dots

What other beers does this resemble? What flavours and aromas do I find in the beer and what ingredients can I detect?

The point of searching for comparisons is to learn more about beer and brewing through discussion. I might think I detect Willamette in a beer that you think has Goldings. Please feel free to disagree with me, I’m not an expert and I think these sorts of comparisons help all of us become better brewers (and possibly drinkers, but I’m not sure I need much practice) by thinking about beer.

The Fly is Supposed to be in the Beer

What makes this beer interesting?

It may not make the beer good, but definitely curious. Maybe it’s just a common flavour that I can’t figure out how to get in my beers, like the common Belgian beer aroma I’m trying to replicate in my still-fermenting Belgian Blanches.

Months later, they are still fermenting.

Or maybe it is something really strange, like the flavour of tobacco I detected in Barley Days Brewery’s Harvest Gold Pale Ale. I don’t particularly like tobacco, so I didn’t like this beer. But it definitely made the beer interesting, worth trying and writing about.

How Would I Mess It Up?

How would I modify this recipe?

It’s probably still beyond my abilities to copy a commercial beer based just on a tasting, but I’d still like to think about different directions that I could take using this beer as a base; I’d still like to think about what strange ingredients I could add that might work.

Hang-Over-Worthiness

Do I like this beer enough to regret it the next morning?

I admit that my standards go down as consumption goes up, but the real question is: Can I drink enough of this beer to make Molson Canadian palatable? A pretty high standard, I’m sure you will agree.

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Reviewing Beer

But yet, I can’t get some of my favourite micro-brewed beers from just a few hours away. Life is good.

You can probably imagine my delight when my beer-o-phile (beer-a-phile? beerophile? we need to decide on a spelling) brother-in-law, whose family lives in Quebec and Ontario, returns from a visit bearing cottage-country craft brews and sophisticated Montreal micro-brews. I had the chance to sample some of these rare treats last weekend.

Harvest Gold Pale Ale – Barley Days Brewery

I’ll give my brother-in-law credit on this one. He brought it back because it was interesting, not because it was good. If you’ve ever tasted beer or wine with others, then you’ve probably come across a situation where someone says it tastes like something and then you can’t taste anything else. I don’t remember who said it, but this beer tasted like tobacco.

I’m not a smoker, so I can’t say that I thought much of the beer. But while writing this it occurs to me that with the banning of tobacco from many states and provinces across North America and beyond, it might be the right time to brew tobacco beer commercially. I’m sure it will be taxed like the devil (beer, tobacco, and gas taxes are called sin-taxes here in British Columbia), but I can totally see a market for smokers who don’t want to go outside in the cold and rain to have a smoke when their friends are inside having a good time.

St Ambroise Citrouille – McAuslan Brasserie

I’ve had McAuslan’s Oatmeal Stout and their St Ambroise Apricot Wheat Ale and they are both very worthy of a toast. So I was quite excited to try their seasonal pumpkin ale which is not available here in Vancouver. I’ve only tried a couple of pumpkin ales previously and they were all a little over-spiced with pumpkin pie spices for my liking. The St Ambroise Citrouille is much more balanced than any of the previous pumpkin ale’s that I have tried. I might try even less spice if I ever get around to making a pumpkin ale.

Derniere Volonte – Dieu du Ciel

Dieu du Ciel is Montreal’s answer to Mecca. They make some great beers and if you live anywhere near there then go. I didn’t know that they bottled their beers…I’ll be doing a little more research.

The beer was wow. It was like a pale Belgian tripel but dry hopped. The combination was good enough to be its own style. I’ll definitely be trying to replicate this soon

I think the dry hops might have been some Goldings variety, but I’m no expert. I’d love to hear another opinion if you ever get the pleasure to try Derniere Volonte.

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Beasts from the East – Microbrews from Eastern Canada Review

I’m shocked that it has taken this long, but I finally cracked the Chimay last night and, just for comparison’s sake, I also had a couple of regular, non-aged Chimay Bleus on hand. It turns out, the young ‘uns weren’t necessary. I never would have guessed that they were the same beer they were so completely different.

The 1999 Chimay tasted more like wine than beer. It had a blackberry aroma, but tasted like blackcurrant and raisin. The rasin flavour wass exactly like the raisin flavours you get in a lot of fortified and dessert wines.

By comparison, regular Chimays are a lot more full-flavoured, full-bodied, generally assertive. Before tasting the 1999 Chimay, I thought the regular Chimays would be a good starting point for comparison, but they are really nothing alike.

I never would have thought I would talk about a beer’s mouth-feel; it’s not something that I have ever remarked on before. But, like in every other respect, the mouth-feel of the 9-year-old Chimay is more like wine than beer.

After trying my first cellared beer, I’m thinking I might have to hold off for another year on the half-dozen remaining Imperial Stouts I have in my cellar. While the Chimays were good both fresh and cellared, my Imperial Stouts taste a little too much like Demerara (there’s a lesson there) and, based on the Chimays, might benefit from a few years in the cellar.

I don’t know who won the competition or even what event my beer was used in. I suspect a number of the competitors thought my box of carefully wrapped beer to be lucky or at least a worthy challenge—there’s no other way to explain the damage. But I’m glad the competition didn’t extend into extra rounds, or innings, or whatever they use in the baggage toss.

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9-Year Cellared Chimay Bleu