Not long ago I was perusing the aisles of my favourite LCBO looking for some new beers to try. There were the typical suspects: hoppy IPAs, some rocket stock stouts, and tucked between these was Cuvee des Jacobins Rouge.
Not exactly a name that rolls off the tongue, I know. To put it in simple terms, this is what is known as a Belgian red. Belgian reds are called thus because, well, first of all they’re red, but what really sets them apart from other red ales is the sour taste. Yes, beer can be sour.
My first foray into sour beers was a couple of years ago with Nickel Brook’s Berliner Style, which tasted like a nice tart lemonade. The sour pucker was a perfect patio drink, which in the season of watered down pilsners and boring lagers is hard to find.
Sour ales are staples in both Belgium and Germany, something I discovered when I visited both this past spring. In Germany, the Berliner, named of course after the city, is on most beer menus, with the option to add either red or green syrup. Belgians have several types of sour ales, ranging from the red as mentioned above to darker brown hues. Each boasts a delightful sour taste that can vary from sour keys to lemonade.
My love for sour beer grew this past Christmas when the LCBO had a lovely barrel aged sour ale by the name of Rodenbach Grand Cru. The taste was tart, but more mellow than a Berliner, and the barrel aging added a certain smoothness. For those interested, I have seen this beer on tap at various Ottawa bars, such as Brothers Beer Bistro and the recently opened Craft Beer Market.
But back to my recent discovery. Cuvee des Jacobins packs a real sour punch. The taste is similar to sour cherries, and has a deep burgundy hue to match. The taste is reminiscent to candy, but in liquid form. Who doesn’t like candy? I’ve done some experimenting and have discovered that 25 minutes in the freezer is the perfect chilling time. This beer is also an excellent match with barbecue, especially sauces that are slightly sweet. Chinese food I think would also be a stellar match.
Thankfully sour ales do appear to be catching on. On a recent excursion to my favourite bar C’est What in Toronto, there were some nice sour options. Naturally, my father and I had to try one, in this case a rye barrel aged gem from Le Trou de Diable. The aging made the sourness less pronounced, but still refreshing. Bonus for the cool album art of the beer’s namesake “L’Ours” (or bear in English).
Next time you grab a cold one, why not pucker up?
