Westmalle Dubbel

[Andy Murphy]

Over on BeerADay.net, I've been going through Trappist ales as the first stage of a virtual tour of Belgium. Continuing in the Trappist vein, Westmalle Dubbel seemed the next logical step after Chimay. And it didn't let me down.

The Westmalle site explains that the monks have brewed a dark Trappist ale "along with their table beer" since 1856. They modified the recipe and began brewing a heavier version in 1926 (considered the first Dubbel ever brewed), which became the foundation for the Westmalle Dubbel available today.

I'm not sure which is more impressive -- that the recipe for Westmalle Dubbel has been in the works for 153 years, or that this ancient monastery has a nicer website than I do.

Westmalle's label recommends serving at a just slightly chilled 45-50 degrees Fahrenheit, and since my bottle had been in the fridge I let it sit on the counter for nearly half an hour to come up to temperature. It came in a long, 11.2 oz bottle with a brown label and raised lettering (TRAPPISTENBIER) collaring the neck. This elongated bottle wouldn't look out of place at the opposite end of a bowling lane -- though in my experience, beer tends to stay with the bowlers, not the pins.

There's no cork in this small bottle, but when I lifted the cap -- POP! -- it exhaled with the enthusiasm of champagne. The reason for the long neck became apparent, filling quickly with a rich foam that threatened to escape in its eagerness.

So you can forgive me for pouring this dubbel so carefully that only a little head formed, tan and whipped on top, with tightly packed bubbles rimming the chalice. The foam faded fast, but left remnants behind that laced the glass. The body was a rich brown, dark with reddish tinges when held to the light. As with all of the Belgian-style ales so far, there was a copious amount of suspended sediment.

A rich, malty, roasted aroma wafted up from the chalice. The Westmalle Dubbel had notes of dark fruit and pumpernickel bread, with an emphasis on roasted malt. The smell was "heavier" than either of the two Chimay dubbels, and less nuanced, which lets you dive into the taste without much ado.

The taste was smooth and rich -- roasted malt, raisins, some chocolate in the middle and subtle hops throughout. The sweetness on the front dissipated quickly as the hops and bitter roast asserted themselves, leaving me with a long, bitter, somewhat dry finish. It feels creamy in the mouth, soft on the tongue and a pleasure to drink.

Westmalle explains that, though I've just enjoyed the 11.2 oz version, the beer tastes different both on draught and in 750 ml bottles. The draught version is slightly sweeter, and the 750 ml bottle produces a "more subtle aftertaste". But for the purposes of the BeerADay.net challenge, I'm considering this beer to be the same one regardless of bottle or draught -- so if anyone has tried this from those methods of storage, please head over to BeerADay.net and let me know what you think!

[Kayla Maria]

By far one of my favorite beers!