A trio of dubbels - first & last loves
There was a time when my living room wasn't half taken up by bags of malt and slowly splooting carboys, when I didn't stop chatting in the pub to record a beer in an orange app or have a wine rack full of far too old, far too expensive sour beer. A simpler time, some would say. Certainly a cheaper time. Ignorance is perhaps bliss.
I approached my twenties continuing my family tradition of drinking real beer, which in our case almost exclusively real ale, a dull brown in colour with a whisper of carbonation and poured spluttering from a brass pump with a wooden handle. Beer, I was certain, should not be fizzy. That was for people who liked football, read The Sun and watched EastEnders. And even more certainly knew it shouldn't be sour...
My eyes were opened (and my wallet lightened) to what beer could be while I was working in Southampton in a cavernous basement-dwelling Belgian-esque brasserie called Belgium & Blues. The experience changed my life.
In exchange for a large chunk of my paycheque, I worked my way through the bars wooden tome of beer one at a time, while documenting my naive and often conceited opinions about them on UnTappd. I remember calling a beer I now quite enjoy "a very affective means of torture". It was also around this time the brewery Pilot made an example of me on Twitter for a particularly shitty review. The less said about that, the better. I hope in the interim I have learned some humility.
More importantly though, it was here I had my first Saison Dupont; it's spritz-y champagne-like carbonation firing bubbles of peppery phenolics into my nostrils. Here too I had my first Orval; fresh it was almost a British ale - all sweet bread-y richness and chew, aged it was transformed into a musty floral and complex thing. A flemish red took a few attempts to be appreciated, thinking instead someone had spiked my beer with balsamic vinegar. Living in Southampton for me was a dreary, depressing and ultimately regrettable experience but I forgive it all its trespasses for giving me a deep love of all things beer. One thing you can definitely say about the place is how fantastic their beer culture is.
This culture is almost certainly in part due to the lovely couple Chris & Anne that run Bitter Virtue which (starting in 1997 when I was 4!) patiently educated its community on what beer could be. Filled to the rafters with all the Belgian classics (and, crucially, their glassware), it was also smart in adopting the new wave of craft beer as it developed, giving Southampton its first taste of Mikkeller, Evil Twin, Brooklyn, and Stone. It how is full of the best that the UK has to offer as well, with impossibly fresh Verdant, Left Handed Giant and Burnt Mill.
Imagine the change in beer landscape a shop like that has seen over the years, in Southampton itself, the country and the whole craft beer world! Shops like this were trailblazers for the modern craft beer movement and without them, a lot of things I love wouldn't be here. Southampton now has countless bars with excellent craft offerings, as well as its own fantastic Belgo-American inspired brewery Unity and (for its sins) a BrewDog. No wonder really, with passionate and knowledgable people like Bitter Virtue doing the groundwork.
And it is this enduring love affair with Belgian styles that will almost certainly be a reoccurring theme in this blog. They aren't particularly trendy or sexy, they don't have 40g per litre in the dry hop and they most certainly don't contain all of your 5-a-day fruit requirements. Regardless, I love them. Which brings us to the dubbel I want to brew today.
Westmalle dubbel is, in my humble opinion, perfect. It all just works. A rich beer that is still refreshing. A 7% beer that is ridiculously drinkable. Banana esters, spicy phenols, bread-y malt, dried fruit, dates. treacle, Worthings Originals. A bottle of that, a nice hanger steak and some Belgian frites; stick a fork in me, I'm done.
However there is little point in recreating it grain for grain, as it is very widely available and if I want one, it is far easier just to buy a bottle. Also, that's not what homebrew is about (for me anyway). Why trace a great painting when you can paint your own shitty watercolour? Let's attempt to be original. Much more satisfying.
Now here is where we may get too original for our own good. I am blessed with living very close to one of the UK's more bougie pastel-green-hued supermarkets, who at my last visit had in stock something that greatly excited me... pomegranate molasses and date nectar! Why do you care, I hear you ask? Upon seeing them I remembered reading the awesome blog by Mad Fermentationist on his Belgian quad with pomegranate molasses and the cogs began to turn... I already wanted to make a dubbel... Why didn't I make three 5 litre dubbels?! One of traditional Belgian candi, one of pomegranate and one of date nectar! Inspired.
I toyed with the idea of doing one large high-gravity batch and liquoring back with distilled water, but adding syrup to the boil is a fairly integral part of getting it to dissolve properly, so three separate brews it will be. As dates and dried fruit are already a common flavour profile of dubbels, I will be very interested to compare the three. Will the pomegranate have the subtle tartness recorded in Mad Ferm's tasting? Will the date nectar be date-ier or less date-y than the classic recipe? Time will tell, and quite some time it will be, as I've read most dubbels improve with near infinite conditioning.
Now all we need is a dubbel recipe to pop them in. For inspiration, I had a look at the much praised Westmalle Dubbel clone from Candi Syrups dot com, as well as recipes in the wonderful Brew Like A Monk by Stan Hieronymus and the dubbel in James Morton's Brew. There were a few essential elements that we can tick off to begin with...
I really want to push the SRM outside the BJCP guidelines of 10 to 17, building on Special B's dried fruit with some caramel / biscuit / toast from Munich and Vienna. Is it still a dubbel with an SRM of 20? I don't know, but I want something a little richer, a little more luxurious and a shade darker. I am also unsure what kind of effect date nectar or the pomegranate molasses will have on SRM, so I'd prefer to overshoot than end up with a figgy blonde ale.
This BYO article on Belgian styles has a great quote from Rob Tod at Allagash Brewing;
We are very careful about our malt and hops bill, and we try to make sure that the final beer is complex and balanced. The two really go hand-in-hand, if the beer is balanced, more of the subtle yeast, malt and hop characters are able to express themselves.
As a generalization (and there are exceptions to this with some of the beers we brew), we find our beers are better balanced with conservative amounts of the sweeter and roasted malts, and the use of the “less-bitter” or noble hop varieties. Sometimes the beers with the simplest malt and hops bills are the most complex beers after fermentation and conditioning.
Complexity, balance and nuance is the goal for most of the beers I make, so let's try and take this advice on board. Aromatic malt is something I have never used before but I'm told it has a honied floral thing that sounds bang on in small amounts. Caravienne often crops up in many Belgian styles for some residual sweetness as well as further amplifying our dried fruit character. A dash of wheat will help head retention as well as hopefully adding a dry biscuity note. All of these elements will be subtle, as not to overpower the beer, hopefully adding the coveted complexity.
Here is our recipe so far with some formatting:
OG: 1.075 FG 1.020
IBU = 19.5 SRM = 19 ABV = 7.3%
Our finishing gravity is a little high but this gives us a bit of leeway if our nectar and molasses don't pack the sugary punch they promised. I'd really like this beer to finish around 1.010, aiding drinkability for such a malt heavy beer. I believe in you, yeast!
1000g / 55.6% Pilsner (1.0 SRM)
200g / 10.5% Belgian Dark Candi Syrup (125.0 SRM) / Pomegranate Molasses / Date Nectar
150g / 8.3% Munich (9.0 SRM)
150g / 8.3% Vienna (3.5 SRM)
100g / 5.6% Aromatic (26.0 SRM)
100g / 5.6% Caravienne (22.0 SRM)
100g / 5.6% Special B (180.0 SRM)
100g / 5.6% Wheat Malt (2.0 SRM)
1 packed of Belgian Ardennes yeast split between three 5 litre batches
10g Saaz (60 mins)
10g Hallertauer Mittelfrüh (20 mins)
I will make a small 1.030 starter the day before my triple brew day (not tripel, that's coming later) to build up our pack of ardennes. This will then be split equally between our three fermenters, making sure it is well swirled to keep everything in suspension. I plan to brew the same beer (with different syrup additions) three times in a row, then pitch all three at the same time. A long day, I expect.
I'll pitch at 18 degrees and letting it free rise up to 22 or so to let our delicious esters run wild. The last few days have been consistently 23 degrees or more in our little flat and I'm worried how crazy that would make our yeast go, considering they also generate their own heat during fermentation. Perhaps ice bathes and a sous vide stick to regular temperature? We recently bought an ice machine for a near constant supply of quarantine G&T's, so that's a plus.
I approached my twenties continuing my family tradition of drinking real beer, which in our case almost exclusively real ale, a dull brown in colour with a whisper of carbonation and poured spluttering from a brass pump with a wooden handle. Beer, I was certain, should not be fizzy. That was for people who liked football, read The Sun and watched EastEnders. And even more certainly knew it shouldn't be sour...
My eyes were opened (and my wallet lightened) to what beer could be while I was working in Southampton in a cavernous basement-dwelling Belgian-esque brasserie called Belgium & Blues. The experience changed my life.
 |
| Belgium & Blues - where beer began for me |
In exchange for a large chunk of my paycheque, I worked my way through the bars wooden tome of beer one at a time, while documenting my naive and often conceited opinions about them on UnTappd. I remember calling a beer I now quite enjoy "a very affective means of torture". It was also around this time the brewery Pilot made an example of me on Twitter for a particularly shitty review. The less said about that, the better. I hope in the interim I have learned some humility.
More importantly though, it was here I had my first Saison Dupont; it's spritz-y champagne-like carbonation firing bubbles of peppery phenolics into my nostrils. Here too I had my first Orval; fresh it was almost a British ale - all sweet bread-y richness and chew, aged it was transformed into a musty floral and complex thing. A flemish red took a few attempts to be appreciated, thinking instead someone had spiked my beer with balsamic vinegar. Living in Southampton for me was a dreary, depressing and ultimately regrettable experience but I forgive it all its trespasses for giving me a deep love of all things beer. One thing you can definitely say about the place is how fantastic their beer culture is.
This culture is almost certainly in part due to the lovely couple Chris & Anne that run Bitter Virtue which (starting in 1997 when I was 4!) patiently educated its community on what beer could be. Filled to the rafters with all the Belgian classics (and, crucially, their glassware), it was also smart in adopting the new wave of craft beer as it developed, giving Southampton its first taste of Mikkeller, Evil Twin, Brooklyn, and Stone. It how is full of the best that the UK has to offer as well, with impossibly fresh Verdant, Left Handed Giant and Burnt Mill.
 |
| Bitter Virtue - beer paradise |
And it is this enduring love affair with Belgian styles that will almost certainly be a reoccurring theme in this blog. They aren't particularly trendy or sexy, they don't have 40g per litre in the dry hop and they most certainly don't contain all of your 5-a-day fruit requirements. Regardless, I love them. Which brings us to the dubbel I want to brew today.
Westmalle dubbel is, in my humble opinion, perfect. It all just works. A rich beer that is still refreshing. A 7% beer that is ridiculously drinkable. Banana esters, spicy phenols, bread-y malt, dried fruit, dates. treacle, Worthings Originals. A bottle of that, a nice hanger steak and some Belgian frites; stick a fork in me, I'm done.
 |
| Liquid banana bread |
Now here is where we may get too original for our own good. I am blessed with living very close to one of the UK's more bougie pastel-green-hued supermarkets, who at my last visit had in stock something that greatly excited me... pomegranate molasses and date nectar! Why do you care, I hear you ask? Upon seeing them I remembered reading the awesome blog by Mad Fermentationist on his Belgian quad with pomegranate molasses and the cogs began to turn... I already wanted to make a dubbel... Why didn't I make three 5 litre dubbels?! One of traditional Belgian candi, one of pomegranate and one of date nectar! Inspired.
I toyed with the idea of doing one large high-gravity batch and liquoring back with distilled water, but adding syrup to the boil is a fairly integral part of getting it to dissolve properly, so three separate brews it will be. As dates and dried fruit are already a common flavour profile of dubbels, I will be very interested to compare the three. Will the pomegranate have the subtle tartness recorded in Mad Ferm's tasting? Will the date nectar be date-ier or less date-y than the classic recipe? Time will tell, and quite some time it will be, as I've read most dubbels improve with near infinite conditioning.
Now all we need is a dubbel recipe to pop them in. For inspiration, I had a look at the much praised Westmalle Dubbel clone from Candi Syrups dot com, as well as recipes in the wonderful Brew Like A Monk by Stan Hieronymus and the dubbel in James Morton's Brew. There were a few essential elements that we can tick off to begin with...
Malt
Pilsner is (of course) the base, as with most Belgian beers. Special B is really the star of the show, adding that delicious fig / date / dried fruit thing that I love so much. But here is where we begin to differ from the classic dubbel recipes.I really want to push the SRM outside the BJCP guidelines of 10 to 17, building on Special B's dried fruit with some caramel / biscuit / toast from Munich and Vienna. Is it still a dubbel with an SRM of 20? I don't know, but I want something a little richer, a little more luxurious and a shade darker. I am also unsure what kind of effect date nectar or the pomegranate molasses will have on SRM, so I'd prefer to overshoot than end up with a figgy blonde ale.
This BYO article on Belgian styles has a great quote from Rob Tod at Allagash Brewing;
We are very careful about our malt and hops bill, and we try to make sure that the final beer is complex and balanced. The two really go hand-in-hand, if the beer is balanced, more of the subtle yeast, malt and hop characters are able to express themselves.
As a generalization (and there are exceptions to this with some of the beers we brew), we find our beers are better balanced with conservative amounts of the sweeter and roasted malts, and the use of the “less-bitter” or noble hop varieties. Sometimes the beers with the simplest malt and hops bills are the most complex beers after fermentation and conditioning.
Complexity, balance and nuance is the goal for most of the beers I make, so let's try and take this advice on board. Aromatic malt is something I have never used before but I'm told it has a honied floral thing that sounds bang on in small amounts. Caravienne often crops up in many Belgian styles for some residual sweetness as well as further amplifying our dried fruit character. A dash of wheat will help head retention as well as hopefully adding a dry biscuity note. All of these elements will be subtle, as not to overpower the beer, hopefully adding the coveted complexity.
Hops
Again taking Allagash's advice, noble hops are all we really need here. We want a subtle floral spicy thing, so Saaz for 60 mins and Hallertauer Mittelfrüh for 20 mins should get us there for a tiny IBU of 19.5. Even that may be too high, but we shall see. I'm not sure if the second aroma addition is even necessary, but every single dubbel recipe I found had it and I am averse to thinking for myself.Yeast
By law, this really has to be Belgian Ardennes 3522 for all our glorious fruity esters and spicy pheynols that really make this style come to life. As far as I am aware, this strain was originally derived from La Chouffe, with the Westmalle strain being sold as the Trappist High Gravity 3787. Either would work but I have a pack of 3522 in the fridge.Water
I am fairly early on in the process of messing with water, but I will be aiming for the BeerSmith Antwerp profile, which is fascinating to look at. Massive Ca and SO₄ deposits really are a million miles away from the soft bottled water I am using, but using a cocktail of gypsum, epsom salt, calcium chloride and baking soda we should get very close. I bought some dubious looking drug dealer scales to aid with this.Here is our recipe so far with some formatting:
Quarantine Dubbel
(5 litre / all grain)OG: 1.075 FG 1.020
IBU = 19.5 SRM = 19 ABV = 7.3%
Our finishing gravity is a little high but this gives us a bit of leeway if our nectar and molasses don't pack the sugary punch they promised. I'd really like this beer to finish around 1.010, aiding drinkability for such a malt heavy beer. I believe in you, yeast!
1000g / 55.6% Pilsner (1.0 SRM)
200g / 10.5% Belgian Dark Candi Syrup (125.0 SRM) / Pomegranate Molasses / Date Nectar
150g / 8.3% Munich (9.0 SRM)
150g / 8.3% Vienna (3.5 SRM)
100g / 5.6% Aromatic (26.0 SRM)
100g / 5.6% Caravienne (22.0 SRM)
100g / 5.6% Special B (180.0 SRM)
100g / 5.6% Wheat Malt (2.0 SRM)
1 packed of Belgian Ardennes yeast split between three 5 litre batches
10g Saaz (60 mins)
10g Hallertauer Mittelfrüh (20 mins)
Mash, Sparge & Boil
We aren't really looking for body or any complex sugars here, so let's take this mash down to 65 degrees to generate as much simple sugar as possible. A standard hour boil for our hops to do their magic and we should be almost done.Fermentation
I think with these three beers, oxygenating the wort will be a lot more important than other styles I've done, as Belgian yeast strains tend to be a little more fussy. Greg Doss, a microbiologist and brewer with Wyeast, recommends that “brewers should use 8–15 ppm of oxygen for healthy fermentations,” but with Belgian ales “12–15 ppm oxygen is recommended.” I have no idea what my dissolved oxygen is with no way to measure it, but I'm gonna take that to mean a whole lot of carboy shaking.I will make a small 1.030 starter the day before my triple brew day (not tripel, that's coming later) to build up our pack of ardennes. This will then be split equally between our three fermenters, making sure it is well swirled to keep everything in suspension. I plan to brew the same beer (with different syrup additions) three times in a row, then pitch all three at the same time. A long day, I expect.
I'll pitch at 18 degrees and letting it free rise up to 22 or so to let our delicious esters run wild. The last few days have been consistently 23 degrees or more in our little flat and I'm worried how crazy that would make our yeast go, considering they also generate their own heat during fermentation. Perhaps ice bathes and a sous vide stick to regular temperature? We recently bought an ice machine for a near constant supply of quarantine G&T's, so that's a plus.
Also with both beers, I am in no hurry to drink them. I've heard these beers will continue to improve 3, 4 even 6 months down the line, so hopefully I will be cracking these open for Christmas. Until then, I can't imagine any issues with these beers being kept in primary fermentation for the foreseeable future.
Results of the brew day will be posted here in the next week or so.
What was the outcome of this experiment? I can't seem to find anything more from you on this subject.
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