Flanders Red Brewday

Another rift on a similar yearly theme. The main changes to this one were to raise the mash temperature and use a half pound of caramel malt, mostly because last year’s version was called thin and over-carbonated by AHA NHC First Round Judges. While I know the contributions from the caramel malt will ultimately disappear—as will the long-chain dextrins from the higher mash temperature—via the slower acting wild yeast, I figured experimenting and waiting to see the end results was the best path forward. See you next year! 

223. Flanders Red

Mash:

4 lbs. Best Malz Pilsner

4 lbs. Weyermann Vienna

1 lb. Weyermann Dark Munich

1 lb. Best Malz Wheat

1 lb. Special B
½ lb. Maltexco/Patagonia Caramel 70-80 L. 

Mash @ 158° F for 60 minutes w/ 4 gallons RO water, 4 g. gypsum, and 2 g. CaCl; collected 2 ½ gallons @ 1.076

Batch sparge @ 160° F for 20 minutes w/ 4 gallons RO water; collected 4 gallons @ 1.028

Topped off to 7 gallons, brought to a boil (60 minutes), & added:

w/60 to go: 1 ½ oz. Choice debittered hops

w/10 to go: 5 g. Wyeast yeast nutrient

Chilled and pitched mason jar of ECY 02 Flemish from 195. Flanders Red; added .55 oz. Hungarian oak, house toast

Brewed: 1/23/2016

Secondary:

Bottled:

OG: 1.056

FG:

Tasting Notes:

Flanders Red Brewday

Another Flanders Red to replace the one coming off the previous yeast cake. Not much to report besides that, I’m afraid. I’m sensing a recurring theme in my brewing. Here’s a nod to the wild and the unpredictable.

195. Flanders Red

Mash:

4 lbs. MFB Pale

4 lbs. MFB Vienna

2 lbs. Dark Munich

1 lb. White Wheat

1 lb. Special B

Mash @ 151° F for 70 minutes w/ 4 gallons RO water; collected 2 ½ gallons @ 1.080

Batch sparge @ 165° F for 20 minutes w/ 4 gallons RO water; collected 4 gallons @ 1.024

Topped off to 7 gallons, brought to a boil (60 minutes), & added:

w/60 to go: 2 oz. Styrian Golding pellet 2.0 % AA

w/10 to go: 5 g. Wyeast yeast nutrient

Chilled, racked onto ECY 02 Flemish yeast cake from 153. Flanders Red

Brewed: 1/24/2015

Secondary:

Barrel:

OG: 1.062

FG:

Tasting Notes:

584. The Bruery Tart of Darkness

What better day to break out some fancy beer than New Year’s Eve? And nothing say jubilation around these here parts like the Bruery. So let’s get this party started! I bought this bottle last year, so it has had a chance to do it’s own thing in the basement ala Heavy D. And just like old school rap, the Bruery will never let me down. PEACE! Anyway, we can add this to the list from the brewery I love to love, including Oude Tart, Rueuze, 5 Golden Rings, Marrón Acidifié (a collabo with Cigar City), Autumn Maple, Humulus Session, 3 French Hens, Saison de Lente, Rugbrød, Hottenroth, Orchard White and Saison Rue.

Tart of Darkness pours a clear dark chocolate with ruby highlights and a thin tan head; the nose is leather, berry, and tobacco up front—and by berry I mean it is a jam bomb—with lingering acetic sourness and oak coming in at the end. Still, there is enough pucker in the nose to make my mouth start to react, specifically along the sides of my cheeks. And the tartness drops once it hits your lips: I get vinegar, oak, and red licorice up front, followed by lactic and citric brightness accompanied by vanilla from the oak in the middle and lots of berry flavor. Oh, and my cheeks started blushing almost immediately when I put glass to lips. The finish is has a slight mineral roast grit, dark fruit, and an acetic acid twang along with a tannic oak and sour roast bite. Still, it finishes rather clean, with some lingering pucker in the back of the cheeks. The beer has a thin body, but the oak and sourness provides the illusion of a bigger body than the beer actually has, in part from the slick and vinous mouthfeel on the palate and from the roast bite as well. While this may initially have had some roast in the aroma (as per the description below), it currently reads more like a darker Flanders Red—the hints of roast grit, sour roast bite, and slightly darker color being the only real elements keeping it from falling completely into that category. And even then, it is not very stout-y or stout-like. Although that is most likely not a surprising claim. Basically, this beer is another vote for yeast being the most important contributing factor to beer—well, and also a vote for time, the illusive fifth factor in the traditional quartet of yeast-malt-hops-water discussions. Maybe the best comparison is to Oude Tart, with this being the darker and more aggressively sour version—specifically in regards to the acetic acid—with more red licorice and juicy berry flavors as well. Still, a pucker-y delight that I’m certain will leave my cheeks wincing before it’s finished. As it should be.

From the bottle: “With a roasty aroma and a tart finish, this sour black ale is a contortion of style and flavor, creating an unexpected delight.”

ABV: 5.6%

P.S. I want to call this beer a colonialist fantasy in my mouth, but I’m afraid no one would get the joke.

(12/31/2013)

577. The Bruery Oude Tart

Since it is my birthday, I’m pulling out the fancy beer. The last time I had Oude Tart was about 20 minutes before I was poured into the backseat of my Shuttle Express ride to LAX. You all remember that day, right? I know I do! I’m even using the same glass I got from that day. How it survived my drunken plane flight home is beyond me. But it did, and here we are something like almost three years later. Anyway, I’ll refrain from regaling you all with more of my quasi-obsessive Bruery fixation stories, and instead move on to the beer itself. Oh wait, you really do want to hear more? I wasn’t expecting that answer! Well, if you can’t figure out how to track down the other posts through using the search engine above, then the terrorist really have won. How’s that feel?

Oude Tart pours a clear orange-ish brown with red highlights; there was just the hint of a tan head that glazed the surface of the beer, followed by a decently lasting ring around the edge of the glass. The nose is musty earth and stone fruit, followed by oak and red licorice. There are hints of both lactic and acetic tartness in the nose—my cheeks did start to blush before drinking it—but it is decently behind some of the other aromas, specifically the creamy oak and stone fruit. In the flavor, both the sourness and tartness are much more forward, opening with a tart citric acid bite mixed with lactic sourness as well as leather and stone fruit—cherry and plum specifically, but also fig. The oaks come out in the middle, as does the touch of musty earth, which was more prominent in the nose. There are some residual brown sugar and burnt sugar flavors that transition into the acetic vinegar finish, along with a gentle tannic oak bite that lingers pleasantly. The body is thin, as to be expected, although the pleasant oak character helps round the beer on the tongue, and the vinous character of the beer also adds to the perception of mouthfeel, along with a slight creaminess. While the flavors are good, it could use more depth of malt complexity to balance the tartness in the beer—after the oak and sourness, it is a bit uni-dimensional. Still, the sharp tartness brings rosettes of sweat to my upper cheeks, and I do love that! So here’s to being another year closer to my death! 

From the bottle: “Pleasantly sour with hints of leather, dark fruit, and toasty oak from extended aging in oak barrels.”

ABV: 7.5%

(11/4/2013)

573. Chris Wyatt’s English Sour Brown Something-Or-Other

Chris described this beer as an English Brown Ale fermented with Fuller’s yeast to which he added Roeselare, and let age for seven months. For someone

This look says it all,
doesn't it?

normally so attached to style—and British style at that—this is an interesting departure. For example, just today he was complaining about the “dreadful” nature of American 2-row. So the combination of British and Belgian seems, from my perspective, worth noting. Hence my naming of the beer. Mixing and matching styles, Chris? For shame! I will also admit to some Schadenfreude contemplating the struggle Chris went through to let this beer age as long as he did. After all, while I can’t speak definitively about his character, when it comes to aging beer, Chris Wyatt is not a patient man. So in Chris Wyatt years, seven months is like four decades or something. Sorry, I couldn’t find the right app to make the exact calculations, and had to do it by hand.

English Sour Brown Something-Or-Other pours a rustic orange copper with a thin wispy white head that is ephemeral at best. Still, there is active carbonation, with small, tiny bubbles streaming up the sides of the glass. In the nose, there is brown malt, graininess, cereal (like Cheerios), and a hint of lactic acid, followed by an earthy mustiness mixed with dark stone fruit aromatics—cherries and figs, mainly. The latter part kind of reminds me of the smell of my grandparents’ house from my childhood. I also get a hint of something spicy verging on adhesive in the background—the ol’ classic dirty band-aid coming to the party. The beer opens with malt, specifically cereal and bread dough flavors, and a slight vinous fruit slickness that gives the beer a thin feel on the palate. It brightens and sharpens as it runs into the middle, with a combined light lactic tang and a brettanomyces gaminess to it—it is just short of funky. There is more fruit in the middle, albeit a more rounded, brighter fruitiness that pairs well with the wild yeast flavors. This leads to a bright candy lactic twang in the finish (which I like), followed by some grain huskiness and astringency that lingers, along with flavors from the darker grains (which I don’t like). The initial thin mouthfeel gives way to more substance in the second half of the beer, and the lactic bite makes up for the minimal carbonation—it provides the bite and crispness the beer needs to finish effectively. The lingering graininess and astringency gums up an otherwise enjoyable beer—the dark grain flavors don’t sit well with some of the other components of the beer, giving a sharper, rough edge to the slight acetic acid flavors that linger longest on the palate. The strengths of the beer—its soft subtlety of Flanders Red/Oud Bruin characteristics—are counteracted by the stronger, more overpowering finish. You should try this beer again, Chris, but cut the chocolate and roast malt (is there biscuit malt as well?) and replace it with something like dark Munich or Special B to give the beer a softer malt profile that will better balance the finish. Or, in other words, keep it subtle, but make the malt bill more Belgian.

From one of Chris’s rambling Facebook posts: “Lactic and funky with nice body and no bitterness.”

(9/27/2013)

504. Lost Abbey Red Poppy Ale

It’s been a while since we had a beer from Lost Abbey, so it was nice to come across a bottle of this during our sojourns through various NW beer retailers. Described on the label as a “malt beverage brewed with cherries and aged in oak barrels,” Red Poppy gets added to a list of Lost Abbey beers that include Angel’s Share 2010, Serpent Stout 2009, Carnevale Ale and Avant Garde Ale, making this one lucky number five.

Red Poppy Ale pours a crystal clear reddish brown, which Elli says is burnt sienna. The head is thin and eggshell, hanging around briefly but rousing easily, while the nose is a mix of fruitiness, tartness, mustiness, and cherry. Maybe a touch of funk thrown in for good measure. Flavors start sweet and sharp, with competing tart and vinegar sourness palate sensations—the body is thin and dry like we expected, but also lively on the tongue. There is a fair amount of cherry in the middle, along with a more even sourness and some mineral dryness. Red Poppy finishes dry and musty with the lingering flat cherry flavor common to beers with cherries—slightly acidic in its own right, accompanied by a touch of tongue curling astringency. As noted, the body is bone dry with bright lively carbonation on the tongue. The beer is delicious—hell, it’s from Lost Abbey—but the cherry flavor does limit and impede the traditional complexity we connect with Flanders red, specifically in the middle of the beer—the cherry sweetness covers and minimizes the dry puckering sourness that makes beads of perspiration emerge on my cheeks. Still, we’d happily drink more—we’re just saying that while the overall effect of the cherry on the beer is delightful, it is still slightly overwhelming.

From the Lost Abbey website: “Perhaps no country embraces the use of fruit in beers more so than Belgium. Numerous traditional as well as regional specialty ales are infused with every sort of fruit imaginable. In this way, the flavor of the fruit becomes especially prominent. Red Poppy Ale is a veritable celebration of Sour Cherries in an explosion of aromas and tastes. Brewed from a brown ale base and aged in our oak barrels for over 6 months, this beer is not for the faint of heart.”

ABV: 5.0%

(12/29/2011)

457. New Belgium La Folie Falling Rock Tap House 10th Anniversary Special Edition

While we already tried La Folie, the fact that this is described on the label as “a special blend of all 10 of New Belgium’s Foedres designed to challenge your senses,” and it was bottled specially for the Falling Rock Tap House’s 10th Anniversary means that we’ve got at least a couple of reasons to consider this something slightly different. So we will. After all, we make the rules around here. I picked this up a while ago in Seattle at Bottleworks, and we’ve been saving it for an appropriate occasion. Tonight was that occasion. And no, you don’t need to know anything more than that. Previously from New Belgium, we’ve tried Mighty Arrow Pale Ale, Ranger, Le Fleur, Misseur?, Transatlantique Kriek, Biere de Mars, Fat Tire, 1554 Enlightened Black Ale and La Folie. It’s been a while, New Belgium, but we’re back.

Yo! Highlights! Highlights, yo.

La Folie Falling Rock 10th Anniversary pours an orange-ish brown with an initially foamy white head that quickly reduces to a few wispy arabesques across the top of the glass—sort of the traditional sour beer head. The nose is an interesting mix of acetic sourness, tannic oak with a touch of mustiness, and slight mineral-like aroma that is not quite fully chalky. With some warmth, dark fruit flavors like cherry and raisin start to emerge, and in the final third of the bottled we also got some slight earthy funkiness along with an increased citric sourness. The initial flavor is tart, sharp, and puckeringly sour, although there is also a candy sweetness that accompanies the tartness. As the tartness recedes, bone dry chalky and mineral flavors emerge in the middle before a return of the tartness in the finish; the mix of acetic/vinegar tartness and oak tannic flavors bite and linger pleasantly. La Folie has a light, dry, and tart mouthfeel; mixed with the bright carbonation and the drying components added by the oak, it is lively and puckering on the palate, to say the least. I ended up with a slight flush of perspiration from the tartness across my nose and cheeks about halfway through the bottle. So. Delightful. This version is also more nuanced and developed that the La Folie 2010 we had over Thanksgiving in Seattle—I am guessing the blending and additional aging of this bottle has shoved it on over into the exceptional category. Easily one of the better beers we’ve had this year; totally a Top 10 Best contender.

ABV: 6.0%
Hand Bottled #07 6729

(2/20/2011)

343. Panil Barriquée 2005

Described on the label as an oak-aged sour ale, Panil Barriquée 2005 was brewed and bottled by Birrificio Torrechiara in Parma, Italy. We had this out of Aaron Spoores’s cellar; we went over to his place to help drink a growler of Goose Island Bourbon County Stout that Jeff Fortney picked up down at the Party Source. Well, that, and all of the other bottles that got opened along the way.

Here’s our evening...

Panil Barriquée 2005 still had a good amount of carbonation in the bottle; it was initially a bit of a gusher, making a mess of Aaron’s kitchen. The initial nose was sour and puckering, with both citric and vinegar acidity, and there were also slight amounts of medicinal and adhesive aromas. In other words, our mouths were already puckering even before this hit the lips. Flavors start both sharp and flat, with a bright vitamin C tablet taste coupled with a lower and drier vinegar undertone; the middle was earthy and lightly funky, but also with a bright citric bite that finished out some of the flavors of the start. The finish was chalky and a bit mineral-y; while dry and well-attenuated, there are also a complex and nuanced range of flavors running across the palate at the same time. Panil Barriquée has a light to medium body and a bright, fresh carbonation; the mouthfeel is bright and very puckering. A fantastic beer; super well-balanced, subtle, & complex across the profile—this beer has aged extremely well. Our only regret (and a very minor one at that) was not drinking this earlier in the evening. It pretty much goes without saying that this one is a Top 10 Best contender.

From the bottle: “The dark, sour, barrel-aged beers native to the Netherlands and Belgian Flanders represent one of the oldest beer styles in the world. Barriquée is the only all-natural, traditionally-made example you will find today, and it comes from, of all places, Italy. The deep earthy, sour character results from three months of maturation in cognac barrels from Bordeaux, followed by re-fermentation and further aging in the bottle. This unfiltered, unpasteurized, complex and delicious beer is the inspired work of Dr. Renzo Losi, whose Panil brewery makes many excellent natural beers in time-honored, classic styles.”

ABV: 8.0%

(6/8/10)

97. Monk’s Cafe Flemish Sour Ale

Brewed by Brouwerij Van Steenberge in Ertvelde, Belgium, this beer is made for Monk’s Cafe in Philadelphia. Monk’s Cafe is also the name of the coffee shop from Seinfeld.

Monk’s Cafe has a sour and tart lactic nose; it is a clear brown with red highlights, and has a creamy tan head that laces the glass well. Basically, it has the classic dirty band aid taste and smell. Starting with a tart sweet candy front, Monk’s Cafe then moves into a sour middle with something of a sweet finish even with the tart puckering sourness that accompanies the sweetness. The mouthfeel is tart, sharp, and lively—there is a decent carbonation bite that plays along with the sourness as beer moves from the middle to the end. As well, the sweetness at the end gives it a rather clean closing—there are not as many lingering sour notes as we expected. This is a very drinkable Flemish sour—it would be something a sour beer novice could start with, in that it wouldn’t completely terrorize them. This is not a critique of the beer, since the overall balance and profile is well done; rather the sour comments are balanced with a bigger sweetness than in other Flemish Sour Ales that we have had, which leads us to think that it could help ease newcomers into the style. Nonetheless, we’d be happy to revisit this one ourselves.
From the bottle: “We blend young and old beers to make this mildly sour sour ale. Light bodied with a lactic/sour nose and a bit of sweet and sour in the finish. Very refreshing!”

From BeerAdvocate: “Brewed for Monk’s Cafe in Philadelphia, but also available for retail purchase elsewhere. Oud Bruin in style; a traditional blend of young and old beers.”

From the Monk’s Cafe website: “Our own private label brewed for us by the family owned Van Steenberge brewery, just outside of Ghent, Belgium. Medium body, red color, somewhat fruity nose, malt flavor with a slight lactic sourness. A real thirst quencher and palate cleanser.”

ABV: 5.5%

(10/5/2009)

92. Rodenbach Flemish Sour Ale

Brouwerij Rodenbach is in Roeselare, Belgium. Their Flemish Sour Ale starts with a sour candy adhesive nose, or, as it is known around here, the classic ol’ dirty band aid smell. Color-wise, it is a deep brown with red highlights—something of a mahogany—with a light ivory head. Bright, tart, and light on the mouth, it starts with a soft creamy and lightly tart front, moves into candy sweetness with sour fruit notes, and finishes with a tart, tongue-curling sourness. There is bite from both the flavor and the carbonation; in terms of mouth-puckering goodness, this one is a winner, although it is not as sour and puckery as Rodenbach’s Grand Cru. The only downside—when you’ve only got small bottles, it disappears too quickly.

From the bottle: “Rodenbach is the world-famous sour red ale from Roeselare, Belgium. Fremented by a complex culture of microflora, it is brewed to be intentionally sour and fruity with a sharp bouquet. A unique, centuries-old method of oak-aging and blending softens its bite and gives Rodenbach a clean, refreshing finish.”

From the Rodenbach website: “bestaat uit 3/4 jong en 1/4 gedurende 2 jaar op eik gerijpt bier. Michael Jackson, een internationale autoriteit als het om bier gaat, kende Rodenbach de eretitel toe van ‘het meest verfrissende bier ter wereld.’”

We couldn’t have said it better.

ABV: 5.1%

(9/30/2009)

65. Two Brothers/Urthel Brewery Moaten

“If this weren’t a fancy beer, it’d be a very good beer.”

Two Brothers Brewing Company is in Warrenville, IL, home of John Maynard Woodworth, the first Surgeon General of the United States (yes, he’s dead now). Urthel Brewery is actually “a brand, not a brewery; it is brewed and bottled at Koningshoeven in the Netherlands ‘under the authority of Hildegard Van Osteden.’” Well shut my mouth!

Moaten is an oak aged sour Flemish style red ale—as it says on the bottle, “Flanders meets Chicago.” The nose starts with light malt and small oak hints; there are also hints of plum and currant, and some slight vegetal notes. Moaten is a light walnut color with red highlights—dark in color, but very clear—and has a fine white head. Flavor starts softly, with rising malt sweetness and light candy flavor, and there is also some third flavor (maybe biscuit) that we can’t quite pin down. From there, Moaten moves into bready dark fruit flavors, although only lightly, and finishes by dropping almost completely off the palate, with only a slight tang left in the mouth. Seriously—like, where did it go? It has a smooth, clean mouthfeel, although it is also a bit rich and heavy. There is also some dryness and light tannic in the mouth from the oak. The sourness increases slightly with warmth, although it is still very light—kinda unsour for a sour beer, but still enjoyable. As well, there are none of the puckering sour notes in the nose, or the slight adhesive smell characteristic of Flemish sours. So while a bit lacking on some of the Flemish sour amenities, nonetheless a solid, interesting beer.

I’d tell you what it said about Moaten on the Two Brothers website (I'm going with unmarked November release), but I can’t find any information there. This means one of two things: either they are too busy doing more important things, like brewing all of us more yummy yummy beer, or their web designer is royally screwing them and they don’t know it. Actually, it could be a little from column A and a little from column B, to tell you the truth...

(9/3/2009)

55. Duchesse de Bourgogne

Duchesse de Bourgogne (pronounced DOO-SHAY) is brewed by Brouwerij Verhaeghe in Vichte, Belgium. The rest of the pronunciation is up to you. Matured in oak casks for 18 months, Duchesse de Bourgogne is then blended with younger 8 month old beer to complete the final delicious product. Duchesse de Bourgogne is named for Mary of Burgundy, born in Brussels in 1457, who was the sole daughter of Charles the Bold. A champion of the Flemish people, she was the Duchess of Burgundy from 1477-1482. She died at the age of 25 in a fall from a horse while falconing when her horse tripped, threw her, and then landed on top of her, breaking her back. Unlucky. She died several days later, having made a detailed will. Why did I include the part about the detailed will? It seemed an interesting and pertinent detail.

Duchesse de Bourgogne starts with a candy sweet but simultaneously sour and tart nose; it has a hazy reddish brown color and a soft white lacy head. Starting smooth and soft, Duchesse rises into sweet candy and tart notes with slight sour notes that build and then take over the flavor, continuing to linger nicely on the palate. The soft, slightly viscous mouthfeel and sharp citric bite merges with the bright feeling of the carbonation to minimize some of the heavy sweetness (sugary, not malty) found across the flavor profile; the sourness level builds nicely throughout the profile. Duchesse does get a bit sticky in the mouth as it warms and tartness starts to overwhelm the sweet candy flavors, which is a plus in our book; as well, the adhesive and band aid flavors come through more as the beer warms—again, another plus for us. All told, a delicious beer that gets better as it warms, giving the sour qualities a chance to shine.

From the Brouwerij Verhaeghe website: “‘Duchesse de Bourgogne’ is een zoet, fruitig bier met een aangename fris-zurige eikenhouten afdronk. ‘Duchesse de Bourgogne’ wordt gebrouwen met diep gebrand gerstemout en overjaarse hoppen met een laag bitterheidsgehalte. Na de hoofdgisting en de tweede lagering ondergaat het bier een derde lagering van circa 18 maanden in eikenhouten kuipen. De in het eikenhout aanwezige looistoffen geven de ‘Duchesse’ het fruitige karakter. Na deze lagering wordt de ‘Duchesse’ versneden met jonger bier van 8 maanden oud. Het resultaat is een ‘Duchesse de Bourgogne’ met een volle, zoete en licht rinzige smaak. Een robijnrood juweel van 6.2% vol. alc. dat het best geschonken wordt tussen de 8 en de 12°C. Een volmaakt bier!”

That disembodied arm is sweeeeet sweetness!

ABV: 6.2%
OG: 16° P

(8/24/2009)

35. New Belgium La Folie Sour Brown Ale

New Belgium Brewery is in Fort Collins, CO. New Belgium is a great great brewery. New Belgium doesn’t distribute to Ohio. That sucks. That sucks big. I tried all summer to win one of their Tour de Fat bikes using my dad’s address, but I failed miserably. We first had La Folie on tap at the Map Room in Chicago; when we were getting ready to open this one, my mouth started puckering even before I opened it.

La Folie has a tart, sour, sweet hard candy smell; there are also slight adhesive and medicinal hints within the nose. With a tan light head and a deep mahogany color mixed with red highlights, La Folie is almost as pretty as it smells. And that’s before getting to the flavor. It begins with a slight fruity carbonation fizz before moving into a sour candyish flavor with slight medicinal notes; as it runs across the palate, it continues to pucker the tongue, and ends with some astringency that lingers in the back of the mouth. The mouthfeel is watery, slick, and puckery. And yes, we understand that that may be a contradiction in terms. Welcome to the beauty that is sour beers. Overall, a delightfully tart and delicious beer—so so tart and yummy. As well, it is most certainly part of the dirty band aid family of beers. This beer is pretty much a guaranteed Top 10 best beer of the year—the sourness and tartness appeals to both our palates, and the overall taste and flavor range is exquisite.

From the New Belgium website: “La Folie Wood-Aged Biere, is our original wood-conditioned beer, resting in French Oak barrels between one and three years before being hand bottled, numbered and corked for your enjoyment. Brewmaster, Peter Bouckaert, came to us from Rodenbach – home of the fabled sour red. Our La Folie emulates the spontaneous fermentation beers of Peter’s beloved Flanders with sour apple notes, a dry effervescence, and earthy undertones.”

ABV: 6.0%

(8/4/2009)