OnTap Magazine

T hrough an intricate link involving Tintin, the Aussie rock band Midnight Oil, and the historical connection between Afrikaans and Dutch, many years ago I became pen pals with a guy from Antwerpen in northern Flanders, Belgium. And so, on a visit to his hometown, we went out for a drink. Sometime later someone shoved a bowl-shaped beer glass into my hand and uttered those immortal words of the late evening partygoer: try this. I did, and was hooked. It was a Westmalle Dubbel, a highly decorated Belgian beer brewed by monks behind the walls of their picturesque abbey rebuilt in the early 20th-century. Dark in colour, with a rich complexity, it was quite an awakening for someone used to South Africa’s pale lagers. Belgium is very much a Catholic country, and in some of the denominations it is considered a virtue for the abbey to be self- reliant. Of course, to live a quiet life and pray seven times a day is valued as well. But to be self-su cient – to grow your own vegetables, tend to the chickens and pigs, farm honey, and bake bread – that is the ultimate calling. A BEERY PILGRIMAGE Beer has long been a part of monastic life. With water from the local streams not always of the best quality, the monks treated it with barley, herbs, a rigorous boil and of course, a period of fermentation to make it into something they could o er as safe refreshment to visiting pilgrims. In some abbeys, beers were even considered as part of each monk’s daily ration, together with friar Bernoldus’ basket of eggs, honey and bread. Today only a handful of monasteries still brew their own beer on site. In fact, since a set of rules was set up in the modern era to control what constitutes a Trappist beer (very much like our own “estate wines” are regulated), only 14 abbeys – all from the Trappist order – qualify as makers of true Trappist beer. And six of those are dotted across Belgium. When a recent work trip to Holland provided an opportunity to stay behind in Europe for a couple of days, I got myself a car, brought out the paper maps and plotted a three-day road trip across Belgium, linking ve of the country’s Trappist breweries, plus one of its most famous “abbey beers”. Unfortunately the Achel monastery in the far northeast) slipped o my radar and agenda, meaning I’m destined to recreate the in full one day. I picked my car up at Amsterdam’s Schiphol airport, then dashed on the highway south, crossing the border into Belgium just north of Antwerpen, then headed all the way down to the Ardenne in the southeast of Wallonia, Belgium’s French speaking corner. It’s a leafy, hilly, farmland area of the country. It took some three hours to reach the abbey of Maredsous, a large monastery set on top of a hill in the middle of a quiet forest. Maredsous is not a Trappist brewery, but I stopped at the Gothic-like abbey to stretch the legs, walk in the tranquil grounds, taste the pater’s cheese and, of course, sip on a Maredsous Bruin, the brewery’s dubbel, full of dried fruit and caramel avours. ACQUIRING NEW TASTES e road meandered further south into the green hills for an hour, after which I parked in front of an abbey called Orval, secluded in a remote valley. It’s a big complex of buildings, and next door the shop is lled with souvenirs, while a modern cafeteria provides a comprehensive menu including something sought after by beer lovers. Orval is famous for producing just one beer, but at the abbey you can taste the patersbier , Orval Vert, named for the green glass it was once bottled in. I preferred it to the classic Orval, whose characteristic dryness and complex tartness take some getting used to. Next up was the abbey of Rochefort, half an hour’s drive away. e abbey is less commercialised and has no shop of its own, but you can buy their beers from one of the cafes in the nearby village of the same name. As with the famous Rochefort cheese, the beer is an acquired taste, particularly for someone used to the simplicity of a light lager. I don’t mess around though and opt for a Rochefort 10, the 11.3% ABV quadrupel which is lled with aromas of dried g and avours of chocolate and caramel. My rst beer stop the next morning was Scourmont Abbey, where the Chimay beers are brewed under strict supervision of the monks, still using only water from two wells The stately entrance to the La Trappe abbey, where you can take a delightful beer tour Prayers to the left, pints to the right Light enough for a devout monk to sip on and still continue his day of praying ontapmag.co.za | Spring 2020 | 25