Not Applicable: Belgium’s Beer Rebels
There is a playful glint in the eye of Stefaan Soetemans, one of the co-founders of Troubadour, as he explains why one of its beers, Antigoon, is called a ‘dubbel blonde’. Their brewery is called The Musketeers brewery, and there is undoubtedly a romantic and buccaneering attitude directing the brewery’s efforts.
“People see Antigoon,” a golden-coloured strong ale at 9%, “and say this cannot be a dubbel anything, it is not dark. Why not?” There is clearly a mischievous spirit behind some of these names, and in the case of Antigoon, its label, which was recently changed. The previous label depicted the eponymous mythical giant from Antwerp’s legend, his hand chopped off and the flowing blood spelling out the beer’s name. Whilst this gory label apparently did well in America, in Belgium too many eyebrows were raised, and many thought Antigoon was a ‘Halloween beer’.
Stefaan, and eight Troubadour beers including Antigoon, were at the Kings Arms pub near Bethnal Green for a ‘tap takeover’ and ‘meet the brewer’ event earlier this month. Recent events of the same type here have hosted experimental sour beer brewer Crooked Stave from Denver, Colorado, so it’s unsurprising to see them host the category-shrugging and rebellious Troubadours. So what is it about Troubadour that gets up the hackles of traditionalists?
Antigoon aside, the rest of the Troubadour labels are hardly controversial, in that sense at least. Each depicts ‘Troubadour’ in flowing medieval script with an accompanying image of a lute. Stefaan and his fellow brewers see themselves as modern troubadours, exploring the world and bringing joy to people with beer instead of song. However, given that the brewery’s beers, whilst highly-regarded, are almost always twists, hybrids or reinventions of traditional styles, the simple and traditional labels are perhaps another mischievous ploy to lure in those expecting a straightforward beer.
Magma Tripel Yeast, for example, is halfway between a Belgian tripel and an American IPA, delivering the best of both worlds – juicy pineapple, apricot and mango notes, swirled into a syrupy, marzipan body. The sharp, resinous finish has you craving the whole flavour rollercoaster again after every sip. The Westkust, meanwhile, playfully riffing on American ‘west coast’ IPAs, is an Imperial Belgian Black IPA with an intense, oily bitterness to balance its decadent dark malt sweetness.
They are truly brilliant beers, but expose a flaw in the current way beer awards are judged: they struggle to fit into any single category. Stefaan is told year after year in various competitions that his beers are fantastic, but that they do not belong in the judging categories for many Belgian or American beers, because they cross the style boundaries.
He is evidently frustrated by this, but must be reassured by the positive feedback he receives from almost every drinker at the Kings Arms that night. In their eyes, a handful of gold medals are meaningless when the beer tasted that good on its own merits.
Whilst it’s naturally a point of pride for brewers to get formal recognition for their work, for these travelling minstrels that recognition seems to come, fittingly, from the people to whom they bring joy.
Chris Hall, co-editor: Beer & Craft: Britain’s Best Bars and Breweries (@ChrisHallBeer)