Spring Break
Experimental beer captures wide variety of flavors
Mike Partel
Issue date: 7/3/09 Section: Arts & Entertainment
But you wouldn't be able to judge for yourself without trying this beer. Since it's unlikely you have one of these bombers in front of you, the emphatic Martian label staring you in the face, let me try and translate the experience. First time readers - and I know it's just the summer so there should not be a large number of you - need the proper vessel, which in this case is a snifter or tulip-shaped glass. Considering that Beire de Mars derives from the avant-garde, our wonderfully pretentious snifters are appropriate, releasing aromatics and colors with a concentrated, bulbous form. If you don't have one of these for which to try your Belgium beers, well, just how many of these articles have you read?
Gently pouring from the lion-corked bottle, my curved glass fills up with what can only be described as a rare "resin" opal or honey-amber, crystal clear color. Its slight, single finger head is pearl white and quickly dissipates, leaving a mild lacing in its wake. The aroma wafting from the lipped vessel is that of a tart fruit pastry with a sour-sweetness that reminds me of my mother's pies from back home.
Taking a tasteful sip, I can piece out a slight dustiness that is generally referred to by many beer lovers as horsey or musty. Don't let these terms fool you. In many cases these would be easily misconstrued as off-flavors, but in our current adventure, such a flavor deepens the sourness, and transpires it to new levels of complexity. It is an earthy taste, taking the already sweet sensations to newly tart levels. That dusty taste, meanwhile, can be attributed to the Bettanomyces yeast, which produces a woody, aged flavor, which in this case is unmistakable. Of all the flavors in Biere de Mars this is the most cutting, flowing under the sourness and tartness and beating out any strong tastes that may linger from whatever beer precedes it. Having just come from one of Philadelphia's newest hot scenes (see next week's entry), I can attest to this beer's underlying flavors.
Biere de Garde is new to me. I've never tried anything this experimental, and I've never tried anything fermented with Brettanomyces bruxellensis. So trying this beer, which perplexes my palate, I'm not entirely sure how to best sell it. Maybe it's the unusual, musty taste. Maybe it's the tarty, overripe tang. The thing about experimental brews is just that: ingredients are tossed together and the outcome is as alien as the Biere de Mars' label outwardly suggests. You don't know what to expect, but delight in what you get nonetheless.
Gently pouring from the lion-corked bottle, my curved glass fills up with what can only be described as a rare "resin" opal or honey-amber, crystal clear color. Its slight, single finger head is pearl white and quickly dissipates, leaving a mild lacing in its wake. The aroma wafting from the lipped vessel is that of a tart fruit pastry with a sour-sweetness that reminds me of my mother's pies from back home.
Taking a tasteful sip, I can piece out a slight dustiness that is generally referred to by many beer lovers as horsey or musty. Don't let these terms fool you. In many cases these would be easily misconstrued as off-flavors, but in our current adventure, such a flavor deepens the sourness, and transpires it to new levels of complexity. It is an earthy taste, taking the already sweet sensations to newly tart levels. That dusty taste, meanwhile, can be attributed to the Bettanomyces yeast, which produces a woody, aged flavor, which in this case is unmistakable. Of all the flavors in Biere de Mars this is the most cutting, flowing under the sourness and tartness and beating out any strong tastes that may linger from whatever beer precedes it. Having just come from one of Philadelphia's newest hot scenes (see next week's entry), I can attest to this beer's underlying flavors.
Biere de Garde is new to me. I've never tried anything this experimental, and I've never tried anything fermented with Brettanomyces bruxellensis. So trying this beer, which perplexes my palate, I'm not entirely sure how to best sell it. Maybe it's the unusual, musty taste. Maybe it's the tarty, overripe tang. The thing about experimental brews is just that: ingredients are tossed together and the outcome is as alien as the Biere de Mars' label outwardly suggests. You don't know what to expect, but delight in what you get nonetheless.
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