What better week is there to pay homage to one of the finest ales the world has ever known? Each year, Cycling Week in Belgium has me turning toward the top shelf of my regular beer peddler for a bottle of Chimay Red Label to be savoured on either the day of the Ronde Van Vlaanderen or Paris-Roubaix or both. It is part of my annual Ronde/Roubaix ritual; a morning ride which includes rough roads and small steep climbs hopefully in gloriously shitty weather followed by some shop time tuning up the stable after a long winter, punctuated by strong Belgian Ale crafted in the monastic traditions of Trappist monks. Life is good.
The Cistercian Trappist monks have been brewing beer and making cheese in Chimay since 1862. Here’s what they say about life, beer, and God:
Here, in this heaven of peace and silence where since 1850 Trappist monks have dedicated their life to God, products are made which, in themselves, gladden the heart of man.
If this statement doesn’t beckon me to the cloth, nothing will. Speaking for myself, there are plenty of reasons not to become a monk: Celibacy, atheism, sin, colorless wardrobe, dudefest, to name a few. However, the promise of the finest beers and cheeses the world has ever known and relocating to Belgium just might get me thinking about making a few “sacrifices”. Although I have only partaken in the Trappist beer, I imagine the cheese is to die for as well. I believe it was Ed Abbey who said “we all have a friend in cheeses”. Amen.
So whether it be Rouge, Bleue, or Blanche (they make a Doree label as well which I’ve never had) uncork some Peres Trappist this week, drown some frites in mayo, and watch what I believe to be the finest competition bicycle racing has to offer. It only comes once a year but the nice thing is that it’s a whole week long. Thank you sir, may I have another.
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Frak, is that snow I see in the yard behind that delicious looking beverage? Nonetheless, I am convinced that ... one day ... I will get to the continent to experience firsthand these magnificent races in all their glory. And the food that surrounds them. Yumyumyum...
@eightzero
Don't ask 'Frak', this one's Marko's baby...
Yes, there is still a shit-ton of snow outside but mostly in the woods. The roads are clear finally.
@Marko, nice one.
I'll have to have a look at our local purveyors for availablity. Is it a dark ale, judging by the picture? What's commonly referred to as "old" here in Sydney. If so, I'll be looking twice as hard
@eightzero
Agree. Last year when I was living in Sicily I had this plan to get an old Fiat Punto. load it it up take my bike and drive to northern europe to watch the classics. then real life set in and I came back to the US.
Marko--I keep a bottle of Chimay red label in the fridge at all times. I've loved this ale since college. If you look on the back of the bottle, it's imported by Manneken-Brussel Imports (MBI), located in Austin. When I was racing/occasionally attending classes at UT, I worked at and raced for Eurosport Cycles. Eurosport was owned by Bob Leggett. Bob owned MBI until he sold it a few years ago. He now owns Artisanal Imports.
Bob was the coolest guy ever. He kept the shop fridge full with really nice imports. Chimay was often available. Hence my love of Chimay. It brings back great memories.
I, too, drink Belgian beers and ales at this time of year. There's a little Stella Artois in the fridge as well. (Not my favorite, but hey, it's Belgian). Seriously, what else does one drink in April?
I think I'll have my Chimay right now. Cheers!
@il ciclista medio
How dare you mention 'Old' in the same breath as Chimay! Not in the ball park, not even the same sport...
@brett
"Frak" = an expletive common in the colonies.
Nice post (and photo). "Gladdens the heart"! Very true.
I lived in Taiwan for a few years. The beer was horrible. The choices were either Heineken (got old after a few cases) or Taiwan Beer (basically PBR).
I had heard rumors of a Belgian beer distributor for the whole island who happened to be in the same city. I found out that he sold to the public during specific hours on Friday nights (whole cases only).
The next Friday, I drove down a few dark alleys to the address. I found the house number and wandered through an open doorway, boxes of every Belgian beer imaginable stacked to the ceiling. Three small yappy dogs immediately came charging at me and a voice yelled "Who the hell is that?!"
I timidly announced my presence and that I had cash in hand. I asked for a case of Chimay Blue and, I think, some Gulden Drak or maybe Delirium. He threw in a Chimay-branded glass which usually required the purchase of two cases of Chimay (I felt guilty even though I hadn't asked for it).
I went back a few more times over the next two years.