The family fall project is to clean out what has become our somewhat chaotic basement. Too much stuff, not enough space. You know the scene. So we have been sorting through boxes stacked under the stairs and tucked into various nooks and crannies. We are being quite disciplined at retaining only that which is necessary. It feels quite good, actually, to free oneself of 15 years’ worth of burden. The end result, hopefully, will be a little more room for my brewing equipment, which as spilled out onto the floor of late.

However, and this is why I mention this domestic fact, the cleaning has necessitated that I temporarily relocate my beer cellar (which is just boxes full of beer I am aging). Since it is being drudged up, I thought I would sort through it, re-organize a tad and do a little strategic pruning. I have selected a handful of prime candidates and hope to work my way through them over the next few weeks.

First up is a bottle of Liefman’s Goudenband I have been saving. A rare find in these parts (any parts, really), I had hoped to keep it for an appropriate beer and food pairing event, but no such opportunity arose. Thus, without any remorse or hesitation, I popped its cork the other day and spent a few moments savouring.

The Goudenband is one of a rare beer style called Oud Bruin (Flanders Brown) a tart, sour brown ale traditionally made in the Flanders region of Belgium. The beer pours a slightly hazy reddish brown with a light tan, creamy, consistent head. It looks very 18th century on the whole. The aroma is fruit and nuts at first. Nutty brown malt with a kicker of raisin and dates. Then I am hit with an acidic jab in the nostril. It is quite clean and sharp and it lingers in your nose to make sure you don’t forget this is no Newcastle Nut Brown.

The flavour is brown ale-like for about a millisecond. Then a clean, tart sourness moves into the neighbourhood.It never pushes out the other flavours completely, creating a kind of polarizing effect, but it does make sure it gets top billing on the marquee. This is a fairly egotistical acid, man. It reminds me of a natural sauerkraut tang. In the background a dark fruit character loiters trying not to be too intrusive. The finish is a balance of nutty sweet and clean acidity.

Over the years I have come to appreciate sour beer for their head turning uniqueness. Who ever hear of tart beer? And, thus, I enjoyed my moments sipping a glass of this. But I must admit that it didn’t really match the cellaring build up. I think I was looking for a little more complexity out of it, a little more richness in the beer end. Maybe that was asking too much, but it is what it is. I have not had many opportunities to drink Oud Bruin, so I will keep my adjectives in check. What I do know is that the Flanders Reds I have tasted seem superior to the brown. Rodenbach Grand Cru and even Duchess de Bourgogne seem both more complex and more drinkable than the Liefman’s. Maybe others who are more versed in the world of Oud Bruin can tell us how well this stacks up against other versions.

Now I need to go consider which recently exiled cellar beer will be my next test subject. Stay tuned.