In America, the relationship between alcohol and religion
is an uncomfortable one. Pragmatic Protestants may tolerate
wine's symbolic power in ritual, but ever vigilant for weaknesses
of the flesh, they also keep a close watch on unfettered swilling.
It may seem strange to many in this country, then, that alcohol
is widely accepted among Christians in Europe; in fact, Catholic
monks have long been major brewers.
In the Middle Ages, when the water could be deadly, monks
of the northern countries brewed beer for themselves as
well as for visiting pilgrims. (Boiling sanitized the water,
thought they didn't realize that at the time.) Fermentation,
the study of herbs and scientific inquiry were all the province
of monasteries, so it was natural that they should be the
sites of breweries.
As commercial breweries modernized, those in monasteries
began to decline, and by the end of World War II perhaps
only a dozen remained. Monastic breweries in Bavaria run
by the Augustine, Benedictine and Franciscan orders (and
in two cases, by nuns), represent a rarity in today's secular
brewing culture, though their beers are typical German lagers.
In Belgium and Holland, however, the monastic breweries,
all belonging to the Trappist Order, are notable not only
for their status, but also for the style of ales they brew,
called abbey or Trappist ales.
Trappist ales share certain similarities: All are strong
and sweetish, and all have a potent, lactic yeast flavor
that identifies them as Belgian. The beers typically have
a range of strengths. Singles, the mildest, are what the
monks drink with meals and are not usually available to
the public. Doubles and triples (dubbels and tripels,
in Flemish) are much stronger, with up to 10 percent alcohol.
Five monasteries are scattered fairly evenly throughout
Belgium--Orval, Chimay and Rochefort in the South, Westvleteren
in the West, and Westmalle in the North--and Schaapskooi,
maker of La Trappe, is just across the border in the Netherlands.
All are tiny by international standards, with the largest,
Westmalle and Chimay, making about as much beer as Deschutes
Brewery, and the smallest, Rochefort, producing less than
Lucky Lab. Their small size belies their significance, though.
Across Belgium dozens of breweries with Catholic-sounding
names like Abbaye des Rocs and St. Arnoldus brew strong
ales in the styles pioneered by the monasteries.
Chimay and Orval are by far the best known. In the case
of Chimay, whose beers are among the most challenging in
the world for their intensity of flavor, this is somewhat
perplexing. The brewery makes three styles, Première,
Grande Réserve, and Cinq Cents, all of them huge,
potent ales ranging from 7 to 9 percent alcohol. Chimay
ales are fermented at relatively warm temperatures, producing
lots of fruity esters with a cutting, sharp edge. Although
sweet, they pack quite an alcoholic punch and finish sharply.
Première and Grande Réserve are darker beers,
more suited for after-meal sipping, perhaps with dessert.
The oddly named Cinq Cents (called Tripel in the
smaller bottle) was created to commemorate the 500th Anniversary
of the town of Chimay. A bit more approachable, it's a golden
ale that's drier, hoppier and less sharp in the finish.
The monks of the Abbaye de Notre-Dame d'Orval brew only
one beer, known simply as Orval. Somewhat lighter than the
other Trappist ales, it is very dry and crisp. The lactic
yeast smell is wholly misleading; this dry-hopped beer is
refreshingly peppery and earthy. The brewery takes pride
in the subtle changes astute drinkers detect from batch
to batch, even coining a phrase for it--the goût
d'Orval, or "taste of Orval." In the five years it takes
the beer to reach its expiration date, its character changes
noticeably (though not unpleasantly) in the bottle.
Westmalle and La Trappe market their products in the traditional
language of dubbel and tripel, and La Trappe
recently began selling a quadrupel (though I couldn't
find that one locally). La Trappe's ales, though Dutch,
have all the lactic yeast character of their Belgian kin,
yet they are decidedly softer, gentler beers. The reddish-brown
dubbel is creamy and sweet, while the honey-colored
tripel is peppery and more alcoholic. Westmalle's
tripel is considered a standard for the style, a
robust ale with plenty of fruitiness and a bit of hop. The
yeast character is pronounced and the alcohol evident.
Trappist monks take vows of silence and dedicate themselves
to prayer and manual labor. They believe in self-sufficiency
and brew their beer (along with making cheese and bread)
in order to generate revenue for the monastery. They rarely
consume the highly alcoholic ales they offer to the public,
limiting their consumption to the mildest table beers. In
observance of religious holidays, though, the monks make
a celebratory exception and allow themselves to sample the
exceptional fruit of their labor. Easter has passed, leaving
the monks to return to their mild brews--but for the rest
of us, the ales await.
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Willamette Week | originally
published April 7, 1999
|
