#westvleteren 12

[thekillianquinn]

It was game night. The one night of the week when Killian could just kick back and relax with his friends. He’d stock his house with all the best alcohol and food money could buy. He wanted his friends to be as relaxed as him. Texting the remaining people who still weren’t there, he told them to meet everyone in the backyard. Grabbing a bottle of Westvleteren 12, he pops up the bottle and takes a swig as he sits down with his friends, ‘Alright, come on. Bring your wits.” He says with a grin as he starts shuffling the cards. So we playing Go Fish, Cards against humanity,poker or uno?” or @rededgerpstarterblog​

[nhahangbellavita]

Thưởng thức niềm đam mê b.i.a với Westvleteren 12% - chai b.i.a trappist ngon nhất thế giới với hương vị tinh tế và độ đậm đà không giới hạn.

[meinbier]

Achthundertachtundfünfzigstes Bier:

Westvleteren Abdij St. Sixtus Westvleteren 12 10,2% vol. Vleteren, Belgien

Da ist es nun, das sagenumworbene beste Bier der Welt. Laut ratebeer.com jedenfalls. Achthundertsiebenundfünfzig Biere hat es dafür gebraucht. Schaumermal. Das Quadrupel fließt jedenfalls rotbraun ins Glas. In der Nase zunächst viel Malz, etwas Säure und Karamell. Am Gaumen dann recht viel Kohlensäure, weiterhin viel Malz und deutliche Kirscharomen. Erinnert doch irgendwie an EmEukal Husten Bonbons für Kinder. Im Nachtrunk kommt dann final eine leichte Hopfenbittere dazu. Der Welt bestes Bier schmeckt also nach Hustenbonbons mit Kirschgeschmack. Ketzerisch gesagt. Ich kann mir allerdings Schlimmeres vorstellen. 7/10

[thedaily-beer]

A 2012 bottle of Westvleteren XII. A 4 of 4. Picked this up in Oakland in 2013 -- it was part of the one-time US distribution, and just like the bottles I’ve had before in Europe, it’s quite good. Wonderful dark fruit and yeast-driven qualities that you’d expect from a Trappist quad, and the age has let it meld a bit. The alcohol stays well-hidden, and there’s some great caramel sweetness and dark fruit up front, and then it fades cleanly on your palate.

[councillor-roland]

The slave seemed uncomfortable in his shirt. Well, if things went according to plan as they normally did for Roland, he wouldn't have to wear it long but until then he would have to suffer through it. Roland enjoyed how it looked on him and how much of his chest it exposed. Sexy yet not entirely immodest. A good mixture, if Roland did say so himself. Hector also didn't seem terribly excited to have gotten to spend some time at the spa. "Just brimming with enthusiasm about it, I see." Roland quipped, more than a little wryly. Regardless of whether the slave had enjoyed it or not, Roland was pleased he'd sent him there.

The vampire was aware of the eyes on him as well as the way Hector's heart rate suddenly sped off, could practically smell the anxiety suddenly coming off him. It wasn't unusual for new slaves to be anxious so Roland supposed he could forgive him for it but the suddenness of it seemed a little strange and it clearly distracted him so that he stalled in his answer. Roland was about to repeat himself or try for something reassuring when, similarly strangely, Hector picked beer when he could've had just about anything to drink. How quaint. "I do have beer." Roland was faintly amused as he reached into the small fridge near the bar to pull out a bottle of Westvleteren 12. He uncapped it then picked his large glass of bloodwine up and carried the bottle over to the slave. "There's a monastery in Belgium that produces these, quite exclusively and in small batches. I hope you enjoy it."

Once it was handed off, Roland took a generous sip of his wine, regarding the shifter. "You don't have to fear me. I'm not going to hurt you." Roland didn't consider biting hurting. He watched Hector for another moment then took his wrist, rather gently, then pulled him over to the couch, sitting down and settling Hector beside him. "Drink your beer and relax. We're going to enjoy ourselves." He released Hector's wrist and settled his fingers lightly against the back of his neck, toying with the hair there almost like he was petting him.

Hector plucked at the sleeves of the shirt he'd been dressed in. He could count on his hands the number of times he'd worn a formal shirt. The last time was probably his niece's quinceañera, and only because his foster-sister Silvia had threatened to wear him like a coat if he didn't. Silvia got scary when she was mad. The shirt was far too restrictive. Left to his own devices, Hector wore tank tops, sweat pants and flip-flops. Or nothing if he could, without getting arrested. Clothes had been one of the worst things to get used to as a human.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Some parts of the spa had been nice. He was a little touch-starved, perhaps, had enjoyed the hairdresser's fingers on his scalp. He stared at Roland. He recognised him from the description he'd been given by other slaves. Gold hair. Fancy. He liked to feed from slaves, he'd been told. Hector twitched, his gaze on Roland's mouth, watching for his fangs as he spoke.

Teeth teeth teeth went Hector's brain, drowning out whatever Roland was saying to him. He could feel his heart rate increasing. "Huh?" He was expected to say something back. Roland was by the bar. Shit, he had a fucking bar. These guys had way too much money. He inferred from Roland's body language that he was being asked if he wanted a drink. What he really wanted was a Xanax, but after several weeks completely dry, alcohol would do. "You got beer? I don't care what. I ain't picky."

[tauers-go-dutch]

Westy 12 Mission

A few weeks ago, Mariah and I took a relaxing road trip down to Belgium.  We went on the trip because I, of course, wanted to buy a very rare beer.  Yet we also had a fantastic time exploring the Belgian country side and the town of Ghent.The beer in question was Westvleteren 12 (or Westy 12). Westvleteren is one of the Trappist abbeys.  'Trappist' is a trade name used by several Abbeys across the world, including one Abbey in Massachusetts. To be a Trappist product, it must be made by the monks or under their supervision, must be of secondary importance to the religious mission of the monastery, and must not be a profit-making venture (any profits not put into grounds maintenance are donated to charity). While most Trappist products are widely available, Westvleteren beers, especially Westy 12, are notoriously rare. The beers and not widely distributed to sale- only a few vendors in Belgium and the Netherlands (including Amsterdam) are allowed to carry the beer. A few more illegally sell the beer. Further, the brewery does not work with any importers to the US. If you do come across one of these beers in a store, you have to be willing to shell out 15-20 euros per 330mL (12oz) bottle. However, the Abbey sells the beer directly for much less. So we borrowed a car from a friend for the weekend.  After figuring out the local coffee shop by our house doesn't open until 9am, thus we weren't able to get breakfast, we were off.  We listened to Harry Potter during the drive, and took in the sunny day that we were lucky enough to have. Holland and the Flanders region of Belgium are quite beautiful when it is sunny- green grass, blue water, tiny towns, windmills, and cool bridges. It wasn't long before we crossed into Belgium, and stopped in Ghent for lunch (and the purchase of some excellent Belgian chocolate).

The entrance to Sint-Sixtus Abbey’s Westvleteren Brewery

Westy 12 drive-through

Enjoying the patio

Enjoying the beer!

The inside of the brewery’s taproom

As we made our way to the abbey, Mariah and I were both expecting medieval buildings with monks in robes and traditional garb. While the buildings were old, the abbey was surprisingly modern. And everyone was dressed rather normally, including the monks. I guess we just had unrealistic expectations. The abbey had a welcome center, which included a gift shop and a restaurant. While the gift shop does sell the beer at smaller quantities, I had previously reserved a couple of crates.  I was really surprised that the crate pick up was a beer drive-through.  Hilarious!  All in all we had the beers and the mission was a success.  Mariah and I decided to enjoy a couple of beers and some cheese on the abbey's patio. We were taken aback at how similar the experience felt to visiting a brewery in Colorado. It was even more perfect as several people rode bikes to the brewery (complete with cycling outfits).  It was truly a wonderful time.

Ghent at night. Ghent recently decided to install lighting in order to light up the city at night, and the result is incredible!

Gravensteen Castle

Brunch. Of course. 

Beer Mariah likes

Old butcher’s hall adjacent to Gravensteen Castle. It has been in use for hundreds of years. 

Gravensteen during the day

Eventually we made our way back to Ghent and checked into our hotel. We walked around the city, which is beautiful at night, and found a Thai restaurant for dinner. After dinner, we walked around a bit more.  We slept in and took in more sights in the morning (though I though the city looked better at night).  After a quaint little brunch, we listened to more Harry Potter on the drive home, and took in more gorgeous views.  After that weekend, I am very much looking forward to our next Trappist abbey visit- my vote is for Chimay!

Tot Ziens!

[henrikeck]

#fredagsøl #beer #ferieøl #westvleteren #12 #bestbeerintheworld (her: Gyrstinge, Vestsjalland, Denmark) https://www.instagram.com/p/CB5sbdqJvng/?igshid=rnmtq7wu9noj

[acommonloon]

When G said we'd go to legendary Westvleteren Abbey to drink the famous trappist made beer at it's source, I was a little thrilled. I imagined a medieval setting, certainly a cloistered environment with a sense of Holy ground. Lolol. Yeah No

TLDR;

For years Westvleteren's 12, a strong spiced beer style know as a quadruple or quad, was recognized as the World's best beer. Recognized by who you ask?

Well there's an annual world beer competition judged by "experts" and this year, Taxman Brewing in Indiana and my personal favorite brewery, won for their Quad!

There's also websites that compile regular beer drinker "non-expert" opinions on thousands of beers throughout the year and award their own standings. The best known, Ratebeer.com currently lists the Westy 12 @ #3 in the world.

Really who cares what a beer tastes like to...anyone else?

Whether you'd like Westvleteren beer or not, in all likelihood, you've probably never had it and probably never will because t isn't distributed. They are said to only make enough beer to keep things going and the beer can only be legally sold at the abbey. In 2012 they needed to raise a bunch of money to repair the Abbey so they sent some beer to America for the first time and it was a frenzied spectacle in the beer world.

You can travel to their cafe and drink the beer there and even buy small quantities at the gift shop but on the day we were there, only the quad was available to take away. They hold an online lottery and if you manage to get a slot, you are allowed to drive there on a designated day and buy up to a case each of their 3 beers to take away. At one point, this beer was so coveted a New York man ran a scheme to get people to buy the beer for him so he could resale it at a huge profit.

We did see a few bottles on shelves in specialty bottle shops in large cities and they were always priced at least 10 Euros above the Abby price.

This might seem ridiculous (and is) but D and I just drove over 8 hours round trip to buy G beer from 3Floyds Brewing. This beer, called Dark Lord, is also only available through an on line lottery and in this case only once a year. The beer is $40 a 750ml bottle!

The things we do for beer love.

[bodecall]

Brouwerij St.Bernardus es conocida tanto por sus cervezas de extraordinaria calidad como por su patrimonio. La cervecería belga solía elaborar las famosas cervezas Westvleteren antes de que la abadía de St Sixtus comenzase a elaborar de nuevo Westvleteren en el interior de sus muros.

St Bernardus Abt 12 es una cerveza similar a la exclusiva y codiciada Westvleteren 12 y se produce con la levadura original de St Sixtus. Sin duda, St Bernardus Abt 12 es una de las cervezas más queridas y apreciadas del mundo, junto con las demás cervezas de la gama.

https://www.bodecall.com/fabricante/st-bernardus

[beerselfie]

#Repost • @girlfermented I am so stoked to be back at the @thesovereigndc again! The food is still yummy and I of course got my hands on some World-Class brews, including the Westvleteren 12 (2018) at 10.2% ABV! Some consider this beer the “Best in the World” and while that’s subjective, it’s agreeable that Westvleterens are not easy to come by—only legally available at the actual monastery via appointment or from the bar across the street. The ones purchasable outside those two options are basically muled at a high markup, which makes each sip of this brew an exceptional treat ;) . This Belgian Quadruple has a boozy, ripe dark fruit, and Belgian spice aroma. Prominent raisin, plum, cherry, boozy, and bready flavor, with a wine like character. I’ve been fortunate enough to try all the Westvleterens and even more fortunate to live near a Belgian restaurant that offers an impressive variety of Belgian imports! Cheers to drinkin’ the best beer 😏🇧🇪🍻 https://www.instagram.com/p/CR3G8Y_LNsq/?utm_medium=tumblr

[whatchudrinkin]

Still one of the best?

Five years ago I picked up a brick of Westvleteren XII -- six bottles, two glasses, eighty bucks. I gave one bottle to my dad. I submitted one to a blind tasting against St. Bernardus, Rochefort, and La Trappe. And then I had four more which I rationed out over the years. There were ups and downs, but it’s always an interesting beer. 

Last week I read about Lehe, an Estonian Brewery, which entered Westvleteren XII in a beer festival as their own quad. The reviews were, shockingly enough, quite negative. Many drinkers failed to appreciate it’s subtly, or maybe Westvleteren isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, or maybe it’s all about context.

Westvleteren is supposed to be an experience. The beer is only available at the monastery. It comes in simple, unadorned bottles with no labels, just a blue crown. It has it’s own special glass, a chalice. It’s rare. It’s special. It’s treated with reverence. Any beer with that sort of mystique is going to taste phenomenal.

When you drink beer at a festival it often comes in a plastic mug. A plastic mug that’s already held five beers, in all sorts of style categories. The beer comes from out of an unmarked cooler, served by a dude with a beard who barely knows what it’s called. It’s nigh impossible to properly evaluate a beer in that context. At best, people have a gut reaction. It’s good. It’s bad. 

Sitting at home watching the sunset, chalice in hand, it’s hard not to wax poetic about Westvleteren XII. The color, brown with ruddy highlights --  it seems to glow from within. The scent, fruity esters -- ripe cherries, red grapes. The flavor, warm cookies, dried figs, a vinous quality. Topped by dry, sophisticated finish. 

But this is an old bottle. It’s full of random yeast floating around. It’s murky as shit. At times, the body is literally chewy. If I saw all that from a new brewery in Portland, I’d throw the whole place under the bus.

Westvleteren though, those monks get a pass, because this beer is delicious. It might be an illusion, it might just be hype, but I am here for it.

[thecraftbeerking]

We had a great beer afternoon. Took on the Westvleteren 12 against the St Bernadus 12. There is no comparison, the Westie 12 is unbelievable. Sweet, raisins and just a pure joy. We also had a go at the @pikesbeercompany Kriek selection. The 15 is so oaky and the 16 is still holding heaps of cherry. Finished it off with the @bridgeroadbrewers B2 Bomber Mach 10 and 9 comparison at the @thefranklinhotel. The 10 is super grassy, a fresh black IPA that is easy to drink. The 9 had some big oxidation aromas but was sweet and delicate. https://www.instagram.com/p/CCIgmGCpYny/?igshid=1em553i459xco

[thedaily-beer]

A bottle of Trappist Westvleteren 12 from 2011 (Thanks, Kim!). A 4 of 4. Still great, this is my first aged this long. Quite worth it, as there is a ton of complexity from the yeast -- almost cola-like in places in terms of fruit and spice and sweetness. Not as sweet as fresh, which is welcome, and this finishes dry with just a little bit of booze peaking out.

[westvleterad14]

Trappist Westvleteren 12

[tulsatrot]

A Pair of Westvleterens

Day #6 – Rochefort – Falmignoul – Dinant Number of Miles Cycled Today – 27.5 Number of Total Miles Cycled – 110.2 Number of Miles Traveled – 4,855

Brasserie Caracole and Vending Machines

Inside Brasserie Caracole

Adolphe Sax, the error-prone inventor of the saxophone and other musical instruments, was from Dinant. We headed there from Rochefort. Before our arrival to the fortified city that overlooks the Meuse River and is located only 14 miles from the French border, we made a detour. It lead us to the 18th century Brasserie Caracole in the town of Falmignoul. We parked our bikes across the street from the brewery and we strolled up to its entrance in the early afternoon sun. It was similar to many of the Belgian breweries we had encountered on this trip. From my American background, where buildings are new with modern architecture, the Belgian breweries in general had looked tired and worn out, as if they had been closed for decades. I ambled up to the green wooden door under the same bright green Brasserie Caracole sign. It was locked. It was 2:00 in the afternoon. Around the corner I found a young guy working hard unloading bags of yeast or flour, or some other integral beer ingredient, into a rotating sifter making clockwise revolutions. I asked in French if we could explore the interior of the brewery interestingly named after a snail. He graciously allowed us inside the hazy and venerable bar. This bar opened in 1765. Remnants of the wood fire oven, used to brew their classic beers like Nostradamus, floated inside the bar. Next to the dimly lit bar stood an original wooden beer barrel from 1766. I checked, there was any beer left in it.

A 1785 Brasserie Caracole Beer Barrel – Older than Scuba Steve

After a few Saxo beers under the trees by our bikes, we figured we should find more substance before finishing our ride into Dinant. We found the empty Moulin du Falmignoul café replete with warm baked goods of which we ordered our fair share of sandwiches, croissants, and pan au chocolat. Interestingly enough after lunch, we sauntered outside to find a bread vending machine. I’ve seen Coke machines and candy machines, but I’ve never seen, or even thought about the need for a bread vending machine. I can only assume the French have their own baguette vending machine. Honestly, I guess there wouldn’t be a bread vending machine if folks in Falmignoul didn’t need their warm bread at all times of day. “Zut alors Charles, this bread is 14 hours old! Get your ass to the café and get us a fresh loaf of bread!”

Inside Smokey Brasserie Caracole

It’s Westvleteren Time!

The sax museum honoring Adolphe Sax, Notre Dame de Dinant, not to be confused with that famous Parisian one, and the Citadelle de Dinant hovering over the town highlight any visit to Dinant. Yet as we strolled down Rue Grande, the main downtown thoroughfare, I noticed an unusual concentration of bottle shops. We passed A c’t’heure dînant and I curiously poked my head in while the rest of the group marched on. It was here that I slowly admired the present atmosphere and my current situation that I found myself along with a wide array of Belgian beers sitting against one wall, wine on the opposite, and tea on another. Considering the reason for this trip, my attention gravitated towards the beer. A steady flow of patrons continued in and out of the shop. I studied each bottle with the same discriminating detail an archeologist looking for the secret path to unearthed Egyptian antiquity, except I didn’t know what the hell I was trying to decipher. The shop finally cleared out and I approached the counter to explain my quest to a cheerful Guillaume. With unaltered gusto and pride, I described my expedition to bike across southern Belgium tasting the finest beers Belgium had to offer. His reaction differed. He was excited. I also explained how unfortunately our group wasn’t actually going to visit Westvleteren in western Belgium, home of the beloved Abbey of Saint Sixtus of Westvleteren, brewers of the Westvleteren 8, 10, and 12.

Belgium Beer at its Finest

He retorted in perfect English, a common skill among multilingual Europeans, “Oh, I just got some in today. It’s really hard to get, even for me here in Belgium. This beer has become one of the most sought after beers in Belgium. It has a cult following.”

For the next hour, we discussed Belgian beers, life in Dinant (this particular interaction had probably been his most exciting to date), the necessity to learn English and other languages, and living and traveling abroad. Finally, I broached the subject that had weighed on my mind since I entered the shop, is there any chance I could buy a bottle of Westy? Like a timid freshman asking out his senior crush to prom, I stammered, “You think that maybe, if you’re alright with it and your parents don’t mind, could I buy a bottle or two of your Westys?”

“Sure, I don’t have many to sell, as you know, the monks only allow people to buy two cases at a time every six months.”

Half expecting him to offer a maximum of two bottles at 25 euros a piece, “Sure, no problem! Whatever you’re willing to sell, I’ll buy them.”

“I’ll be back. I keep the really good stuff down here.” As he walked around back behind the white wall behind the counter hiding the stairs to his cellar.

Three minutes later, he exited with a cardboard box full of brown bottles without labels and just yellow and blue caps, a renowned sign of a Westy. The blue cap topped the Westy 8 and the Westy 12 had the yellow cap. Westy 10s were absent.

“Didn’t get any Westy 10s this time. So, what do you want?” He asked me happily.

Not really thinking he would sell me all of them in the cardboard box, I eagerly responded, “What are you willing to sell?”

“Anything in the box.”

I tried to be civil and hide my juvenile excitement at this moment. This was the stage where I ultimately acquired the Holy Grail of beers in its homeland. Practicalities briefly returned to my senses. “How much are you willing to sell them for?” Knowing full well that he could easily gauge me on the price. He had the upper hand. He knew I purchased a plane ticket and crossed the Atlantic Ocean to get this particular beer, and he was the first one who actually had it up to this point.

“9 euros a bottle.” Two days later I would find out that this would be a great price.

Huh?!?! That’s it? Trying to act cooler than I actually am, I calmly responded, “Hmmmm, sounds good to me. I’ll take three of the 8s and three of the 12s. I’ll try a few of these new ones as well. (For the author’s safety, the accurate number of bottles purchased has been changed to safeguard the state of his marriage. If my wife is still reading this, I only bought two bottles and savored each swig.)

I left A c’t’heure dînant an hour later with a silly grin on my face, my blue backpack strapped tight to my back, and two hands transporting a cardboard box full of highly coveted clattering brown Westvleteren glass bottles down along Rue Grande back to my IBIS hotel 15 blocks away. My arms burned, my wallet was a bit lighter, but I didn’t mind one bit.

Like a kid at Christmas time and without pause, I enthusiastically shared the story and my newfound spoils to the crew. With great care and respect, I opened the first bottle of Westy 8 like a bottle of 1999 Rene Engel Clos Vougeot (I dare you to look up the price of that bottle of wine). Like wine, Westvleteren is actually supposed to age. That might explain the fizzy, juvenile maturation and flavor of it, kind of like one of Pepper’s jokes. We followed the Westy 8 with the better acclaimed Westy 12. The Westy 12 had a fuller, more robust flavor. And just like that, I drank Westvleteren in Belgium. The remaining beer would travel back with me to the American midwest in the classiest of Igloo coolers and duct tape.

Unexpectedly, Dinant marked our sixth day of this adventure and my real introduction to Westy. Tomorrow consisted of, shocker, cycling to Chimay, home of the beer that indirectly championed this trip all the way back in Spain in 2000.

Previous Stop: Day #5 – Bastogne – Nassogne, France – Mochamps, Belgium – Rochefort

Next Stop: Day #7 – Dinant – Mariembourg – Fagnes – Chimay

A Pair of Westvleterens

Another Closeup with Westvleteren 12

Scuba Steve in front of Summer Home

Start of the Journey Outside Rochefort

Giving Pepper the Bird!

Route de la Bière – Yes Please!

Desolate Road of Houyet

How much Sax in Dinant? A lot

Inside Brasserie Caracole

L’Entrée de la Citadelle de Dinant

Meuse River Outside Hotel IBIS

Lone Silo

Rest Stop in Houyet

Cycling Dinant

A 1785 Brasserie Caracole Beer Barrel – Older than Scuba Steve

Inside Smokey Brasserie Caracole

Brasserie Caracole

Just Happy to have the Bird

Which way to Finnevaux?

Belgium Beer at its Finest

A Closeup with Westvleteren 8

Finding Westvleteren Beer on a Saxy Dinant Street Day #6 - Rochefort - Falmignoul - Dinant Number of Miles Cycled Today - 27.5 Number of Total Miles Cycled - 110.2…

[celticintuition]

Thank you @caskpubsw1 for a lovely Belgian based evening. @paulw4tson, I owe you! #trappist #beer #heaven #westvleteren #12 (at CASK Pub & Kitchen)