effervescent refractions

With only a few years in the commercial business it’s somewhat difficult to imagine how the brewers at Struise were able to produce the paragon that is Pannepot. Even harder to imagine is what they will concoct for us next and whether it can possibly get any better. In any event, the excitement generated by this beer is genuinely deserved, and here’s why. A rusted hue pinched with the slightest touch of garnet reflects the deep and meditative temper reinforced by its inspired subtitle “Old Fisherman’s Ale”. The still cream that floats above sheds a sheet of dentelle glazed across any glass it touches and meticulously cemented like thousands of minuscule barnacles. I have little seafaring experience myself, but Hollywood has me picturing a man in a crusted beard looking twice his age and capped of a chapeau dark as the ocean, sipping from a chalice in the day’s sole moment of grace. As I return from my reverie, the beer facing me has not changed but exudes a complex pastiche reminding at once of the classical Trappists and the conversely avant-gardist brewers. Deep molasses and brown sugar reminiscent again of Struise’s Speculoos are jolted with banana, figs and plums. Cloves, pepper and coriander provide a balancing spice profile that naturally flows into a sylvan aroma of soil, artichoke and walnuts. Dense but sweet almost succulent, yet open, airy and dry at the same time. There’s cream, there’s terroir, there’s everything you would want - it’s abracadabrantly balanced. Pannepot transitions to the tongue very organically as its nose’s echo resounds on the palate in a flurry of roasted coffee and dark chocolate flavors. Cardamom and allspice are part of this orchestral composition that with warming evolves a flowery form of banana, and the juices of grape and cherry. The swallow unveils a long and complex aftertaste blending coffee, pepper, coriander, caramel and a touch of hops. Every bit of this beer is worth seeking out and shows yet another example of Belgium’s young and talented brewers. What’s almost scary is how juvenile my bottle still was and the potential it showed for aging after only a couple months in my cellar.