Wednesday beer — Saison Dupont (with a little nod to Orval)

Dupont’s bottling line when I visited
the brewery in the autumn of 2009

I had an Orval at the weekend and as soon as I smelt it in the glass, the words ‘This is Belgium’ crash-landed amongst my thoughts; for me the aromatics of orange peel and that rusticity you often find out in the country on approaching a farm were Belgium. You can get that with quite a few key beers, which immediately remind you of their home country; Pilsner Urquell and Schneider Weisse. 

Last weekend, I also had a bottle of Saison Dupont and the same crash bang wallop of word association trampled through the undergrowth of my mind. I just loved the austereness on the palate, the flintiness, the herbal-like spice, the restraint on sweetness, the champagne-like effervescence and the quick dry and spicy finish. This was Belgium (or Wallonia if you want be pedantic and someone undoubtedly will be) and even though I was in Exeter I knew one of the first places I will be visiting when I travel again will be Flanders and Wallonia. 

I visited the brewery as well as Cazeau for an article on saison that was my first ever commissioned article from All About Beer — if you are so inclined you can read it here.  

Brewpub

The blanche is as sharp and spiky as a retro punk haircut, a refreshing draft that lets coriander spiciness and lemon barley sweetness mosh-pit its way to the clean finish. There’s a brune and a blonde hanging around on the beer card as well, while there are some bottles with a Belgian theme as well. All brewed somewhere else in the building, by Guillaume Denayer, who used to work at Caracole and Rochefort. His last job before coming here was in a crisps factory and he was bored and wanted to get back into brewing. Brew-kit is Austrian, a stainless steel combination polished to the sort of perfection that the ancient Greeks would have had on their shields to trap Medusa with her reflection. He brews 15 different beers. Back in the bar, I note a mini Mannikin Pis peeking out from behind the glasses at the back of the well-wooded bar and the restaurant space has Bruegel-lite paintings on the wall. The staff hover about in brasserie-default uniform (aprons, black, you know the form), while the menu includes Flemish-style cuisine. The bar at which I sit has chrome piping, wrought iron work flourishes on the gantry and I continue to enjoy the wit. Where am I? Oh, sorry forgot to say, BrasserieMetropole, St Petersburg.