‘Drink local’ has been a highly successful mantra for the craft brewing industry, and its appeal is understandable in today’s 100-mile-diet world. It does, however, do a bit of a disservice to beer’s vast variety and varied history, and those who wish to enjoy both to their fullest. As I noted many years ago in a statement that has since been meme-ified, anyone can drink beer, but it takes intelligence to enjoy beer.
A big part of that ‘intelligence’ is understanding what one is drinking, which a person will most assuredly not, or at least not fully, if they do not understand what the beer style is or from whence it came.
With all the above in mind, and in full awareness of the decline in the popularity of imports, I present ten beers every beer drinker should know, taste, and appreciate, if not necessarily love.
Westmalle Tripel (Belgium, $5.30/330 ml): Brace yourself, because although the popularity of Belgian beers is at a low ebb these days, there are going to be several on this list, beginning with the beer that defines the tripel style. Spectacularly complex, with fruity sweetness up front, hoppy bitterness on the finish, and a delicious mix of soothing, satisfying, and curiously quenching throughout, I’ve yet to serve this to anyone who wasn’t instantly impressed.
Timothy Taylor’s Landlord (England; $3.90/500 ml): Speaking of underappreciated, when well-brewed and -served, the best bitter style is a stunner, the singular reason the British coined the term ‘more-ish,’ meaning that it leaves you wanting more. While its ultimate style of service is as cask-conditioned, this classic of its ilk is sufficiently brilliant that it stands up to bottling, overseas shipping, and LCBO warehousing, with just enough bitterness to balance its toffee-ish malt and a dry finish that almost instantly invites another gulp.
Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (Germany; $4.20/500 ml): Bavarian style wheat beer can be a polarizing style. For some, yours truly included, it is the consummate ‘first beer of the day,’ equal parts appetizing and refreshing, while for others the typical clove and banana flavours derived from the style’s classic yeast variety are off-putting. This example from Germany’s oldest brewery, however, shows restraint in what the nay-says don’t like, while accentuating what the style aficionados love, making it a ‘must try’ for one and all.
O’Hara’s Irish Stout (Ireland; $3.70/440 ml): I know. Why O’Hara’s rather than Guinness? Simple reason, really: it’s miles better! Where the latter stout has over the years been diminished in flavour to the point that it’s almost devoid of roasted malt character, O’Hara’s is proud and assertive in its roastiness, while at the same time being mellow, dry, a touch chocolaty, and profoundly nuanced. A portrait of Irishness.
Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier (Germany; $4.90/500 ml): Like smoked salmon or ham? Then you’re going to love this! Hate smoky characteristics in food and drink? Give it a chance anyway! A classic from Bamberg, this is brewed entirely from beechwood smoked malt to a robust smokiness that can overwhelm, but starts to make sense to even the non-believer after a few sips. Plug your nose and the smoke vanishes, allowing you to appreciate the rich malt character, then unplug and enjoy the cascade of campfire notes.
Rodenbach Grand Cru (Belgium; $3.90/330 ml): The modern category of so-called ‘sour beers’ is misnamed, as illustrated by this, one of the handful of Belgian classics that define the tart, fruity – but not really sour – flavours which arise when various microflora are allowed to play alongside brewers yeast in fermentation and conditioning. Aged to full impact in massive wooden tuns known as foeders, Grand Cru can shock on the first sip, amaze on the second, and delight on the third and every subsequent taste.
Pilsner Urquell (Czechia; $3.55/500 ml): In the Czech Republic, only beers brewed in Pilsen (Plzeň) will bear the name pilsner, and with only a handful of breweries in the city, that narrows the field considerably relative to the widespread (mis)use of the term elsewhere. Of those breweries and beers, this is the original, no longer conditioned in wooden barrels as it once was, but still brilliant gold, firmly malty with balancing rather than overly expressive hop bitterness, and when at its best, with but a slight hint of butterscotchy diacetyl.
Orval Trappist Ale (Belgium; $4.95/330 ml): I could easily add a beer or beers from each of the Belgian Trappist breweries to this list, such is their character and quality. To overlook Orval, however, would be a most serious omission, as this southern Belgian ale is unique even within that country’s massive and arcane tapestry of beers. Both dry-hopped and bottle-conditioned with Brettanomyces, it offers fruity sweetness, musty funk, and herbaceous bitterness, all within a character sufficiently complex that it can offer a new experience in every sip.
St. Bernardus Abt 12 (Belgium; $5.35/330 ml): While on the subject of Trappist breweries, surely the most notorious is northwest Belgium’s Westvleteren, specifically for its high strength ale known simply as 12. Much more easily obtained, in fact a regular on LCBO shelves, is this brawny beauty from the neighbouring Brouwerij St. Bernardus, which once upon a time brewed the Westvleteren beers under contract. Like the more famous 12, it is potent at 10% alcohol, with a robust and soothing maltiness that effortlessly glides between chocolate and fruit and mild spice, while steering well clear of cloying.
Bitburger Premium Pilsner (Germany; $3.05/500 ml): While the other beers listed here are all pretty much universally acknowledged classics, Bitburger is not. What it is, however, is a rather spectacularly clean, dry, hoppy pilsner that is flavourful, satisfying, and quenching. In short, the archetype of what a well-brewed and properly conditioned pale lager is meant to be: Dry, thirst-satisfying, restorative, and effortlessly enjoyable. That it is sold at a remarkably reasonable price is but a bonus.
