April 2011

As we all know, strong beer is only appreciated by strange smelling, hairy men on park benches. These unfortunates are afflicted with the only chemical addiction that varies in severity alongside the sufferers’ disposable income. So, in a purely benign effort to tax this serious social problem out of existence, our beloved chancellor has raised alcohol duty on all beer above 7.5% abv. Clearly the thinking is that beer of this strength is tramp juice and weaker beers are only purchased by responsible drinkers.

This attitude would be viewed with a mixture of disbelief and scorn in Belgium where, famously, beer is brewed to unholy strengths and revered as both an important export commodity and a token of national pride. A laissez faire attitude has prevailed which has preserved the ancient brewing traditions of the wealthier monasteries and nurtured a new generation of small-scale artisan producers.

The best of these are truly unique products which have yet to be replicated outside of Belgium.

One of the best of these peculiar little breweries is De Dolle in the West of the country. Established in the early eighties by a successful artist, their most successful export is aggressively bitter blonde ale called Ara Bier. I first tried it back in the mid nineties and found it close to undrinkable, my young palate preferring the sweeter, more immediate pleasures of more commercial products like Leffe. Trying it again recently I was impressed not only by its quite singular nature, but also by just how utterly delectable it was.

It has a gaudy, parrot-themed label and the bottle is topped by a natty bow tie. The beer pours as a slightly hazy pale blonde, topped by a very impressive, lifted, fluffy strato-cumulus head. It has a powerful bouquet with citrus peel aromatics and a herbal, medicinal edge. It may look fluffy, but the palate has real bite. It is pretty bloody dry, medium weight with sharp, zesty flavours and a finish which becomes fairly chalky, a bit like Alka Seltzer or fino sherry. The 8% abv alcohol is well hidden beneath layers of bitter hop notes, but clearly works behind the scenes knitting together all the disparate flavours.

At around £2.70 for a 33cl bottle, it is no one’s idea of cheap bevvy and I would be deeply impressed if you were to find any empty bottles underneath your local park bench.

At a time when we are all having our belts tightened, whether we like it or not, it would be wrong to ask for an exception to be made for beer of all things. But it would be nice if stronger beers of this ilk were encouraged rather than lumped in with the super lager.