#359: Westvleteren XII

I last spoke about Westvleteren XII in December 2015. At the time, the bottle was around four years old and, if not necessarily improved (to my taste), it certainly hadn't depreciated. 

The same could not be said for a bottle opened earlier this year. This one-time legend of Belgian beer suffered from the typical malaise of an over- (or incorrectly-)aged beer - oxidised aroma compounds cascade from the glass on pouring. There's a staleness to the otherwise recognisable raisin jam palate, a sort of cardboard edge to the spiced stewed apple ester play, but most prohibitive to any real enjoyment is the thick, slick and soupy texture to the body. This feels every bit of its 10.2%, but without much finesse or even pleasantly warming heat. The scarcity and age of the beer meant I felt compelled to soldier through the glass, but I only made it halfway before regrettably sending the rest down the drain.

I'm confident that this beer hasn't been contaminated or infected in any way, despite the slightly more prominent appearance of unsightly dregs roused by serving. Rather, I suspect the almost 9 years spent sitting in a cupboard with no temperature control has not served it well. Such is the risk taken with long periods of ageing, especially without properly regulated conditions. 

#300: Is West Best?

For the 300th post on The Drunken Destrier I've decided to put up a beer I enjoyed a few weeks ago on a whim, standing as I was in front the old cupboard sunken into the wall in front of my desk in my home studio, just above the cluster of fermenters because, obviously, this room is also the brewery.

The beer is Westvleteren 12, and it is the penultimate bottle from the famed 6-pack brick released a few years ago to much a hubbub. The BBE reads 16/11/14, so this bottle is almost a whole year out of date, and surely horrible muck. A Google tells me that this means the beer was bottled on the same date in 2011, which makes sense considering the bricks arrived in Ireland in early 2012. As such, this is a 4 year old version of the beer previously assessed here.

This grown up pours a clear enough red-brown with care but sports a wicked chunky and creamy head that lasts forever. Pungent, tart raisin and apple, coated in toffee and soaked in booze, wafts from the glass immediately; this isn't the toned down subtlety I'd expected, being just as intense as the fresh version. The texture is rich, deep and chewy beyond belief, and oozes dark fruit and brown sugar. It's not all dark sweetness though; though it takes on a tawny port-like aspect there's a spike of almost tannic acid that only serves to shine a light on those beautiful depths. This is the sort of beer I love, though I confess I can't be certain the age has immeasurably improved things, the only difference I can immediately think of being the lack of any harsh alcoholic heat, though there wasn't very much of that to begin with.

Incidentally, I don't think this is the best beer in the world (as it was once considered) or possibly even the best in the style; such a notion seems silly in any case.

Still, it certainly hasn't depreciated in quality over time, and it remains a gorgeous, complex and thoroughly enjoyable glass of beer.

#102: The Session - Don't Believe the Hype

This month's Session, and my first participation, is hosted by Good Morning, and questions the role of hype in the life of a beer.

Now, I'm well aware that almost everyone and their mother is going to be writing about Westvleteren XII, particularly with the release of the six-pack 'bricks' earlier this year, but I can't possibly avoid the subject. I did a little write-up on this beer in the past where I briefly discussed it's reputation, but I'd like to expand on that.

So, you may have heard that this is the best beer in the world. It's highly rated on RateBeer and BeerAdvocate. It's generally highly rated in the blogosphere. Those YouTube reviewers tend to go nuts just talking about it. It has to be amazing, right?

Specially branded bottle & glass

Then, you hear the news. Super-special limited collector's gift packs are going to be released for export, far beyond the the boundaries of the brewery's own cryptic, clandestine sales operation.* Finally, now's your chance, beer nerd! Buy the world's best beer, it will only cost you €50! You can't afford to miss this!

And so I bought it. I poured the first glass of Westvleteren XII and had one of those beer-drinking experiences that I adore, where I'm perfectly happy to spend the first minute or two enjoying the aroma of the beer. As nice as that is, it's an experience I'd had a few times before and I've had it many times since, for a lot less than €50. Your money buys you an undeniably nice Quadrupel, a style that can be so temperamental that it can be difficult to find your own favourite, let alone the best in the world. To me, it is neither of those, although it must be given credit for being the nice beer that it is.

So where does hype come into all this? For me, it was a small catalyst in influencing the purchase, with the greater factor being the seemingly limited output. I knew I'd never, ever go to the trouble of buying a case in Belgium, so it was a chance to get my hands on a relatively rare beer. I reckon some beer 'enthusiasts' approached it with preinstalled disappointment, before they had even so much as opened the bottle, in a bid to show that they could withstand the hype. To give a true evaluation of a beer we must be objective and without bias, whether for or against the beer. 

On that note, I'd say hype can unfairly add weight to either side of a beer's reputation, influencing customers and drinkers. As such, I'd say it's a bad thing.

* If you think that's good, take a look at this madness.

#40: Westvleteren 12

Aha, here we go. This is one that everybody knows, and that most people love. It's supposedly the best beer in the world, and with a reputation like that, it surely wouldn't disappoint... would it?

Westvleteren XII pours a dark murky brown with red highlights in the light, and pitch black in the shade. It's got a thick and creamy off-white head, and it bubbles menacingly from the bottle. Thankfully, no spillages here. Primary aromas of champagne yeast with deep layers of dark fruit, toffee apple and caramel sweetness. Although there was no spillage, opening the bottle was enough to rouse the yeast from the base and initiate a cola like fizz on the top. After a small while, the yeast element dies down, as does the sparkling fizz, and you can enjoy the chocolate malt and caramel notes much better. It's looking pretty good right now...

...and then you put it in your mouth.* It really is gorgeous stuff. Deep earthy malts to the fore, bringing slight funk with the toffee apple, bubblegum and candy sweetness. The finish then is predominantly dark fruits with the usual stuff - raisins, cherries, berries and figs - and a slight spice touch that livens things up a little bit. As time goes on, the chocolate note at the very finish grows more and more powerful. Delicious. The complexity is great, and it's all carried on a creamy, velvety, thick full body that slightly degrades as time goes on. Takes nothing from the beer though.

The combination of the taste and mouthfeel left my mouth tingling after every sip, and with that gorgeous aroma that kept me busy for the first 5 minutes of the tasting, it's an intensely satisfying beer all-round.

Now then, I suppose I can't neglect to address the question everybody will ask about Westvleteren 12: Is this the best beer in the world?

No. Probably not, at any rate. It's been one of the best beers I've had, yes, and one of my top five favourites, yes, but any one of those other four beers could be better in my eyes. And that's not to mention the staggering amount of great beers I've yet to try. To be honest, I don't think there even can be a 'best beer in the world'. For instance, at the moment Pliny the Elder seems to be edging this as the best in the world, but as I've mentioned before, I generally don't go for hoppier beers. Therefore, it's very likely that Pliny wouldn't even break into my top five. It's all about personal preference.

As such, I feel it's important that I recommend you buy it only if it really means that much to you. I dropped €50 on six bottles of this, and as great as it is, I can't see where the extra €6 per bottle goes when compared to, say, Rochefort 10. In fact, it would be very interesting to see this compared blind to the Rochefort, seeing as it's my favourite of the style at the moment. Ponder no more though; the work has already been comprehensively done right here.

*No, the beer.