As usual, Friday was a beer run day with the first stop being the beloved MBS. The last time That I visited, I was a bit worried. I was perusing the craft beer shelf for something just for me and I finally took it all in… the big picture. Jeeze, I’ve tried pretty much all of these beers. There were a few exceptions though. Some Mexican and Italian beers still look at me sadly from their places there. The hard ciders are mostly ignored and all that was left were the bombers at the back end.

I don’t really prefer buying bombers. They could be 22 ounces or 25 ounces or some quantity of milliliters requiring a episode on the iPod touch and the unit conversion app. Then there’s the price. One bomber of let’s say a stout, may cost $4.49 for 25 ounces. Is that a good price? If I buy two bombers I get 50 ounces, which is the equivalent to 4 12-ounce beers with two ounces to spill or give away.  And even some sixpacks run a little short. The majority of bottled beer contains 12 ounces whereas, some premium imported beers come in 11.2-ounce bottles, or 330ml. Bastards.

This Friday, I perused the shelf twice, up and down, left and right. My eyes happened to fall upon a lone sixpack, one I’ve glanced at before. The spelling of the name made me wonder just how it was pronounced. I decided to grab a bottle and check out the label. Lo and behold, this beer was a Belgian ale. The name, in old Gothic font was either “Heffe” or “Leffe.” The beer in question was Leffe Blonde, an abbey ale made in Belgium. Ah, a Belgian Abbey ale. One of my favorites.

The back of the label on the bottle read:

Savor the Mystery of Ages. Award winning Leffe Blonde is a full-bodied deep golden ale that is surprisingly subtle and delicate. Belgium’s classic abbey ale is best served in its own chalice-shaped glass accentuating the ale’s aroma and creating the perfect head.

All these words sure sound purty, but I wonder how the beer would taste. I checked the price. Nine bucks for six Belgian beers. Subtle and delicate. How could I lose? This beer will be evaluated this evening. Yeah, a discovery, a Belgian ale and a great price. Interestingly, this beer has a favorite uncle.

The rich brewing tradition of the Leffe beers dates back more than 700 years to the Abbey Notre Dame de Leffe, founded in 1152. The monks of St. Norbert began brewing this beer in 1240 for the community and for passing travelers. Leffe beers continued to flow throughout the quiet Belgian countryside until the Abbey was abolished after the French Revolution. The monks eventually formed an agreement with the brewer, Albert Lootvoot, to re-launch Leffe.

Leffe Blonde is imported and distributed in the United States by Anheuser-Busch, Inc.

(Source)

When the time came for drinking beer came, I was in front of my beer glass cabinet wondering what glass I should choose. I know that a chalice would be the norm for the presentation and the aroma, but I did consider going against the grain and choosing a pub shaker. But hell, it’s a Belgian after all. I eyed the Duvel snifter. Nah. A little overkill. How about a stemmed glass? Nah. Not in the mood. Then, down on the bottom shelf, my wife had placed the Chimay chalice. Shit. Why not? I grabbed the glass and headed out to the Manly Garage.

I settled in and grabbed the first bottle. The bottle caps and necks were covered in gold foil. Overkill? I grabbed the opener and popped open the first bottle. Hmm. The bottle, instead of making a “Tsst!” it made a definite “Fft!” More like a pop. The bottle was completely and ultimately voided of its neck carbonation very abruptly. That was a nice touch.

The beer poured leaving me with a creamy white head of about two fingers’ worth. The carbonation was rather vigorous comprised of small, almost micro-bubbles. The liquid itself was deep yellow, a golden yellow in color and looked absolutely delicious. The aroma was one that I’ve smelled before, that being those unique Belgians with their heady and almost sweet fragrance.

The first sip was intense. A giant slug of flavor hit my palate all at once. There was a rather sharp twinge at the swallow and the exhale was rich with the flavor of those Belgian malts. There was a lot to this beer.

The middle flavors were 100% Belgian, maybe 110%. It was a big taste, to be sure. There was a distinct tang, a subtle sour note along the sides of my tongue and I’m sure that the tang is what sets this beer apart from the other Belgian ales. The definite crispness at the swallow had my uvula swaying like a wind chime.

Mixed in with all the complexity of the tastes was a nice, underlying sweetness. The sweet came in at the front of the sip, then the maltiness deluged the middle and sanded down the sides of my tongue in the meantime. Then the slap at the back of the throat. There was a lot to like about this first glass. But let’s see if a constant barrage of the taste buds by all this flavor is tolerable.

The second glass was more of the same punishment to the palate. Still flavorful, still overly Belgian, still starting to get overly. Although I must say that while I truly enjoy the taste of a Belgian ale, this one was a little over the top. The big taste wasn’t really cloying, but it was relentless. It almost made my tongue tired. The only taste that I can perhaps relate this to is eating the entire package of Chuckles in one mouthful. Yeah, it’s kinda like that.

How can I sum this up? Leffe Blonde is a most unique Belgian Abbey ale. It has all the Trappist trappings of being Belgian, namely malts, sweetness and tang. However, it just may be the fat chick at Victoria’s Secret trying on a bikini. Uniquely flavorful, you may last through 4 of these, but 6 is a push. You may be tasting it again in a burp the following morning.

The SixPackTech ratings for Leffe Blonde are:

Taste: B > An entire faceful of all things Belgian.
Smoothness: B- > A little raspy on the sides and back.
Drinkability: B- > I think my tongue’s swelling up.
Bang for the buck: B+ > Change back from a sawbuck.
ABV: 6.6%
Wife’s all-encompassing opinion: (Sniff) Not much smell. (sip) Kinda citrusy… (sip) little bit bitter goin’ down. (sip) Not a whole lot to it going down. (I am now convinced that my wife is insane. I’m sure of it.)

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Lefty

Blonde