If you like your beer, an importer from Paphos will spoil you for choice – and that’s only for those that come from Belgium
Trappist monks take a vow of silence so instead of chatting all day they busy themselves silently brewing up high octane beers, the likes of which would render most normal folk speechless. Some are as dark as chocolate, some amber, others bordering on orange. They can be intensely sweet, or dry enough to make you go into permanent ‘pucker’ mode. Trappist-style beers are rare in that they are also meant to age; this means that they then have a small dose of sugar and yeast added to each bottle before being sealed. Then, as with champagne, the beers re-ferment in the bottle and over time they develop a quite unique flavour.
We invited three Englishmen, whose combined age, and life-long drinking experience qualified them to join Neophytos Spyrides, owner of the Remuage wine depot, in tasting a good selection of these celestial liquids.
Barrie, Eric, and John, arrived at 5pm to be faced with a bar groaning under the welter of dozens of different shaped glasses. This glass extravaganza is in keeping with the policy of each brewery to create the correct glass shape to accompany each individual beer. The pouring of the beer into a proper glass affects the aromas given off along with the head formation of the foamy stuff.
We started with a Ramee Blonde Abbey Beer. Eric voted this 8% volume beer as one he could “have more fun with” despite its cloudy appearance. So far so good. They then downed the Ramee Ambree brunette, which at 7.5% volume had a powerful kick to it – described by Barrie as having ‘a good aftertaste’. Mind you, this from a man and his friends who still hadn’t realised that the spittoon placed in front of them was not a stylish receptacle for placing used bottle caps, but a designated container to deposit the remains of each beer after taking a single sip.
The Sebastian Grand Cru at 7.6% comes in a stone-made container and was one of the most expensive beverages – selling at £3.90 – and the boys reckoned this was a “decidedly different, fruity beer with an after taste reminiscent of barley wine”.
It became clear that the testers considered the drinks to date as being ones that don’t exactly slate a thirst, being more aperitifs or to accompany food. We then went on to ‘Speciality’ Ales with a Hoegaarden Forbidden fruit at a whopping 8.8% volume. By this time Eric had changed his name to Rick Legend, John was insisting I call him Jack the Hat and Barrie was giggling a lot at some pretty dreadful jokes centred on monks clad in cassocks.
By this time the dynamic trio were well into the spirit of the job in hand and, still the spittoon was dry. Then came the number one best seller Duvel at 8.5% “nice foam, tastes very good” was all John could offer as he drained his glass while the other two nodded vigorously in full agreement.
Images of pork scratchings and pork pies came to mind when the group went for the Hoegaarden Grand Cru 8.7%. So strong was this beer that Barrie admitted (after he had finished his glass) that one would defiantly need food if drinking this brand.
Max Passion was up next, it was voted a bit of a girls’ drink at a mere 3.2%.
The macho men continued with a trappist selection again in the form of Rochefort at a staggering 9.2 % – this liquid was so malty you could chew it for health reasons and also had dodgy bits floating in it, giving the contents of the glass a hue and texture akin to that of a murky pond, but, the guys quaffed away and decided that yes this was one they would drink in the winter as a deeply satisfying “heavy beer”.
Chimay Blue at 9% was compared to a strong English bitter, then the homesick bit set in with long rambling reminiscences about pub experiences that rendered both me and solidly sober Neophytos rigid with boredom, and still the beers kept coming. Barrie was now forced to sit down to sample the Chimay red at 7% – pleasant but nothing special was the overall response.
Then out came a St Bernardus at a dangerous 10%. After only one slug the boys showed the biggest comeback since Bobby Ewing stepped out of the shower. “This is the best of the dark beers,” was the unanimous response, then they all slipped back on the stools to await the next offering.
This was an appropriately named Delirium Tremens at 8.5% which displayed a label illustrating cavorting pink elephants and dancing alligators. Then out came the bottle of English brewed Spitfire 4.5% which claimed ‘No Fokker comes close’, – well, that piece of advertising brilliance obviously designed to cement Anglo German relations was greeted with absolute hysteria, a mass rolling around on the floor, with tears running down florid cheeks.
Sill more caps were unlocked and the sense of duty to their blood alcohol level never floundered as they were presented with glasses brimming with ‘The Bishops Finger’ – intelligently summed up by Eric as “A beer you could easily get wrecked on”.
There followed a Faro at a measly 4% which was voted as akin to cough mixture mixed with Bovril, a Maredsous at 8% which received a well deserved star rating (for what I don’t exactly know except, they all just went Mmmmmm! and said ‘top class’), then a full (and swiftly emptied) glass of Blanche de Namus was described as “a bit watery.”
After seeing the cause and effect on our testers no wonder Trappist monks stay silent.
Wine Depot Remuage
Leoforos Evropis, Paphos. Tel 99 655812, 77777525
