40 Years in Beer (Book II), Part 74: Down a rabbit hole, deep into the Belgian beer paradise (1998)

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40 Years in Beer (Book II), Part 74: Down a rabbit hole, deep into the Belgian beer paradise (1998)
Phil Timperman, Matt Gould (R.I.P.) and Jake Newman at Brugs Beertje for a Trappist ale and cheese tasting, 1998.

Situated just outside of the city of Oudenaarde in East Flanders, Belgium is the locale of Mater, where a brewery called Roman was established in 1545. The brewery has been operated by the same family since the 1600s, and as I write these words in 2025, the tradition continues with a 14th generation at the helm.

Roman Dobbelen Bruinen, as I remember it.

On March 25, 1998, Roman awaited the scrutiny of an eager squad of beer travelers under my immediate tutelage.

During this period Roman exported to America 750 ml bottles of a big, complex East Flanders brown ale called Dobbelen Bruinen, which sold well at the Public House, based in part on the frequency and earnestness of my personal recommendations.

I really loved that beer.

Upon arrival at Roman in early afternoon we were welcomed by the ranking brewery salesperson who gave us a fine walk-through, then guided us to the tasting hall for sampling — except these samples, normally comprising a few ounces, proved to be full pours of various house ales of our choice, many of them higher octane.

It occurred to me that apart from a few snacks, we’d skipped lunch. In light of the subsequent merriment, this clearly was an omen.

I was told that members of the group would get one beer each on the house, after which they’d be asked to pay, and of course this was fine. In the end, all efforts at payment were rebuffed, so the gratuity we left behind was suitably extravagant.

Roman’s comfortable and spacious seating area was paneled with wood and conservatively adorned in an early 20th-century revivalist manner. My charges joined numerous senior citizens who already were seated, some chatting, others playing cards, with the majority quietly enjoying their beers. We soon learned it was a regularly scheduled outing from their nearby retirement home, a fringe benefit that struck me as supremely civilized.

As we dug into our own “samples,” the atmosphere was convivial but restrained. As a headmaster of Americans, I knew that given sufficient time and beers, we’d become loud; it’s who we are, and what we do, and yet at first we managed to blend in and contribute to an almost stately prevailing atmosphere apart...Read more