Often the quietest person in the room is the most confident and self-assured. I think it may be that way with beer as well. During the last couple of months I devoted my Sherbrooke Liquor Beer 101 columns to an exploration of big beer – bold, higher alcohol beer (to read the earlier pieces, go here and click on the older posts link). I planned on shifting topics this month, but realized I had neglected what may be the most evolved big beer of them all – the Belgian Strongs.

What strikes me the most about Belgian strong ales, aside from their distinct spicy yeast character, is how bloody well they hide their alcoholic strength. You can be sipping on a 9% tripel and if not careful believe you are drinking something more like 5 or 6%. Aside from the obvious dangers of unintentional intoxication, the hidden heat in a well-made Belgian ale is intriguing.

In the column (which you can read here) I explore a bit of HOW they might achieve such a difficult task using what I know from my research and my personal experience brewing them. Yet, I really doubt that I get to the core of what makes a Belgian beer so stealth in its presentation. Still, the insights may prove useful to you.

One thing you may note when you read the piece is that I intentionally refrain from talking about specific Belgian strong styles (dubbel, tripel, etc.) but group them in a single loose association. My reason for this is that, of all the beer styles I experience, the Belgian strong ales are the hardest to pin down. Not only are there myriad interpretations of the traditional guidelines (common among most styles), but there is rarely agreement on even the basic elements. To spice or not to spice? Dark, light or medium? Dry or moderately sweet? As soon as someone tries to label the key characteristics of a sub-style – say a Quadrupel – I guarantee someone else can point to 2 or 3 fantastic versions that don’t fit. It is a permament illusiveness.

I have personally experience with this. My dubbel recipe tends to produce a drier version of the beer. It has been dinged in competitions for being too dry. However, sometimes the judges award it a medal because they appreciate that a dry finish is an appropriate interpretation for the style. It is just how it goes in the world of Belgians.

I love a nice chaliced glass of some Trappist/Abbey ale to sip slowly after dinner, which I am told is much when the Belgians enjoy them as well. And I love to sit and marvel at how hidden the alcohol is. Gets me everytime.