The most recent Amsterdam excursion was one of the more relaxed and least beer-focused of all, to the point where I barely pulled my camera onto the table to get illustrations for a blog that was more or less dormant at the time.





Of course, I still have to take notes, because otherwise how will my great-great grandchildren know how I wasted my youth?





The Arendsnest is always the first stop and, despite its familiarity and unbelievably approachable service, the sheer scope of the menu can be daunting at times. As such, it was with a hint of impulsive panic that I immediately ordered Platte Lambiek , a cask-served unblended lambic-a-like from Vandenbroek. From Groningen it may have come, but it makes a very convincing Payottenland impression - wheat, wax and lemon in a flatish and quite sour mixture, it's rather simple and one-dimensional, even though it's quite pleasant, but I guess that's why the boffins usually blend these. A tad cheaper and served in bigger measures, this would be a session hit.





I'm never far from something dark and soupy either, and the latest quadrupel against the wall was Gulpener Quadrupel . I mean it in a nice way when I say it's a by-the-numbers quadrupel.; it is sweeter than some and less carbonated than many (which are points against it) but it is definitely rich and interesting enough with raisiny syrup and actual grain flavours to make it a satisfying possible step-up from the Arendsnest's permanent La Trappe quad.





Another and yet more interesting rendition is Kracht Hout from Breugem, a tad stronger at 10.7% and leaning more towards ruby red than the brown-black depth of the Gulpener. It's intriguing - drier by far and with a prominent marzipan icing and praline streak, blazing through a very wintery landscape of nutmeg, faint cinnamon and apple strudel. As is breathes and reacts to the cold November air, it develops more of a sort of ripe fruit or even dry red wine character. It's a fantastic beer tailor made for the season, and in my notes I opine on whether there's an unusual yeast component at play or something else. As it happens, I later discover the beer has seen the use of Palo Santo wood, which I class as a revelation. This has all the contributions a brewer thinks they're making when they spice a beer for Christmas, without the almost ubiquitous grossness that accompanies such beers - there's no sense of artificial flavouring, no Fantôme weirdness, just some subtle but noticeable sweet spice and dried fruit flavours, laced through a good strong Belgian ale. Something to note for the homebrewer.





Uddelaer's Dubbel Bok was the first of those. Here we return to lagery cleanliness, even though I'm still not certain if a bokbier is typically a lager or ale-yeast fermented beer (I'm under the impression that, like saison, it's more a state of brewing than a straight style - a stronger, higher gravity beer of any style than the brewer usually produces, often for the colder months). There's some crunchy green, celery-like bitterness going on, playing off some powdery milk chocolate, but it never approaches anything as sweet or boozy as its (presumed) cousin the German doppelbock. It's just as clean though, in strk contrast to the Akkerman Season allowing, I always try to get my hands on a few variations on the bok theme, andwas the first of those. Here we return to lagery cleanliness, even though I'm still not certain if a bokbier is typically a lager or ale-yeast fermented beer (I'm under the impression that, like saison, it's more athan a straight style - a stronger, higher gravity beer of any style than the brewer usually produces, often for the colder months). There's some crunchy green, celery-like bitterness going on, playing off some powdery milk chocolate, but it never approaches anything as sweet or boozy as its (presumed) cousin the German doppelbock. It's just as clean though, in strk contrast to the Akkerman disaster , so I can update my latest opinion on bokbier to 'Cold Fermented'.





Southward across town but in the same family is Craft and Draft, and I started in a similarly wild manner as in the Arendsnest. MONYO Brewing are from Budapest and their Hungarian Terroir: Villány is a wild ale aged in Hungarian syrah barrels with the pomace of said wine in tow, information I was not privy to upon drinking and note-taking at the time. It produces a wonderfully soft, only lightly acidic beer reminsicent of an Alsace wine; vanilla and melon are present throughout and the carbonation is relatively low, but the beer remains clean and sharp as a tack, finishing bright on citrus. Very nice and moreish.





Back on the winter warmers is Stone Eagle , a barleywine of Morebeer's own making with some involvement from Stone Brewing. I was expecting something in an American vein but this seems to lean more toward the British tradition - think boozy slick malts with aged rum and wood character pinning it down. Rich fruitcake is the lasting impression, and it's quite pleasant.





Dr Raptor , A DIPA of 9.2%. Sweetly pungent right from the off, the aroma almost precedes the glass to the table. Candied tropicals and those artificially flavour Tutti Frutti sweets dominate the aroma, but there's more bitterness to be found on tasting. Proper orangey, pithy bitterness, in a way that seems positively old fashioned these days, but very welcome to my taste. There's a lasting boozy pineapple thing that lingers between sips, as the beer doesn't try too hard to hide the high alcohol, but thatkfully it never becomes hot or sticky. A good way to sign off proceedings. It was probably about time I tasted a hop, and so last of the session was 't Uiltje's, A DIPA of 9.2%. Sweetly pungent right from the off, the aroma almost precedes the glass to the table. Candied tropicals and those artificially flavour Tutti Frutti sweets dominate the aroma, but there's more bitterness to be found on tasting. Proper orangey, pithy bitterness, in a way that seems positively old fashioned these days, but very welcome to my taste. There's a lasting boozy pineapple thing that lingers between sips, as the beer doesn't try too hard to hide the high alcohol, but thatkfully it never becomes hot or sticky. A good way to sign off proceedings.





But not as good as ambling into In de Wildeman on the afternoon of our departing flight, where I couldn't resist a half litre of draught Jever . It's predictably better than the bottled version, showing less skunk (a trait I don't particularly find unattractive in the bottle version if I'm being honest), allowing bold noble hop bitterness and florals to take centre stage. Squeaky clean, bitter, moreish, gently herbal - almost menthol - this is my perfect lager at the moment. I would adore a regular draught stockist of this in Cork.



