Orval Trappist Ale

Contrary to popular belief, most monks are not Buddhist kung-fu masters. Giant temples filled with snap kicking bald dudes in robes is a Hollywood construct. The daily life of a monk is usually quiet and simple with little to no dramatic physical exertion. Long hours of deep metaphysical contemplation and endless menial chores are activities more closely associated with realistic monastic life. Monasteries regularly and intentionally separate themselves from many aspects of modern society. This isolation improves the absorptive spiritual atmosphere but can impede the abby's financial underpinnings. Monks and their collective brethren still need money for many everyday expenses. Since no one gets paid for praying and flipping burgers at the local Mickey D's is not an option, monks have created a market for their own hand crafted wares.

Having very limited resources to begin with, monasteries tend to create simple things with materials that are cheap and on site or easily attainable. Supplies such as grains, animal products, and wood are the most common. While the end product may initially seem like a simple loaf of bread or an everyday wheel of cheese, looking just beyond that simple cover you will find a truly fine artisanal creation. Holding the quality of the product paramount over all other aspects, monks are able to create truly amazing things. The most amazing of these creations is made by a small cluster of Belgian Roman Catholic monks known as Trappists. Their creation is beer. Humble, simple, modest, beer.

Made strictly to support the monasteries' activities, the seven Trappist breweries make some of the best beers in the world. This time, it's not just my opinion. The world over, beer connoisseurs covet these like priceless gold doubloons. With all 7 going in slightly different directions, each beer has specific "style" characteristics all their own. Each displaying absolute top tier craftsmanship using the highest quality ingredients. I was officially and formally introduced to beer proper recently with one them thanks to a co-workers strong recommendation. (Good work Murph!) It's label says Orval but it should read Heaven.

It's never once been advertised, the receipe is nearly 100 years old, and the money made from my purchase of this bottle will not be used toward a corporate profit of any kind. Yes, yes, and oh man this is one hell (woops) of a beer! The head grows as thick as a marshmallow from glimmering bubbles feverishly rising to the top. On the nose you get a bit of sour acidic citrus with a pollen like wildflower thing underneath. Extremely complex but oh so deliciously primitive at the same time. The taste parallels the nose. It's like the venison of beer. Wild, untamed sour yeasty tart explode. The dry hops start cranking mid palate during a very Lambic-esque first act. The unbridled carbonation, courtesy of  the bottle refermentation, make the nuance of the malt difficult to find. There is  however an ever so slight essence of caramel malt found near the back door. The hop finds its way though the complicated forest of flavors and sets up an extremely dry acidic finish. We're talking Champagne dry finish. Simply amazing.

This beer gets 652 out of 650. The complexity of this beer may be difficult to grasp by many. The strong natural flavors of the ingredients don't hide at all and someone not comfortable with foreign flavors may be put off. That said, any one who likes beer must try this at least once. If you can, drink it from a chalice 2 degrees warmer than you think it should be drunk. The intricacies will be best tasted when the beer is just above cool. Put your tuxedo or little black dress on and prepare for a formal introduction to one of the best alcoholic drinks on earth.

cheers