Chimay Triple / Blanche (White)

Brewed by Chimay
Style: Abbey Tripel
Baileux, Belgium

Completely nice! A world classic that combines tartness and sweetness in a perfect way. Warming alcohol and a huge head. Good belgian character, but it is not in any way overdone.

Overall this is one of my favorite beverages. I find the flavor is very enjoyable, and the aroma excellent. I have learned much of the taste/ aroma comes down to the glass. Most recently I had it at Eulogy Tavern in Philadelphia, PA and the bar tender poured it excellently with the right amount of head and everything. I find this very enjoyable every time.

Pours a beautiful hazy orange with a rocky white head that clings to the side of the glass. Smells yeasty with a touch of clove and fresh hops. The taste is of raisin, fruity hops, and maybe a little clove. The carbonation is perfectly effervescent. This stuff rocks.

Hazy, opaque orange color with creamy, rocky head. Complex spicy aroma with coriander, cheese, bananas, and notes of dark fuits. The flavor is very similar. Complex spicy, and yeasty with cheeses. Ends spicy and medium dry. Dense texture with lively carbonation. 09 - 08 - 07 Amber-orange color with medium haziness and frothy white head. Alcoholic figs, sugar candy, coriander, slight muscatel sweetness in the aroma. Good balance between the fruity esters and the herbal hops in the mouthfeel. More balanced body than Westmalle Triple.

Flaske. Ekstrem lækker tripel. Farven er lys uklar gul, og duften er af gær og en smule banan. Smagen er hmmmmm.

75cl bottle, hazy amber colour, huge white head, malt and yeast aroma, citrus (both orange and lemon) and spices notes, sweet flavour, hints of hops and alcohol, finish with spices and warming alcohol

Though not to everyone’s taste, the discernible bitterness adds to the character of this particular tripel. The best looking of the Chimay beers, with a durably brillliant whiite head, and reassuring sediment clouding the last of the pour, Cinq Cents is a great beer.

Leaving the debate of whether or not to lay down corked Belgian 750ml bottles, of which Chimay quite literally and visually warns against doing on their labels, there is also the debate of when their three different beers are best enjoyed by. The Grand Reserve is truly the most age worthy; gaining fine notes of port and rich vinous qualities the longer she safely rests in her bottle. The Premier and Cinq Cents though are a different story. Chimay themselves advice to enjoy both within a year of their life-time, maybe a little more than a year on the Cinq Cents, a Belgian Tripel, but no more than that. Should I take that as the written gospel and adhere not for fear of some divine retribution? Gospel was written to be challenged and broken when needed, in my not so humble opinion, and I shall explain to you exactly why.

Exiting stage right and entering stage left is my corked 750ml bottle of Chimay Cinq Cents, a Belgian Tripel of heavenly proportions. As I undo her wire cage, I always take mind to keep a finger atop the cork to save myself a rocket launch of spectacularly messy proportions. Cage removed, I free her cork with a pop and gaze lovingly at the sensual mist slowly crawling out of the bottle’s neck, free at last and ready to please. Now, many have asked me how/where one can find the age on a Chimay bottle and save for the life of me you won’t find it anywhere readily noticeable on the bottle. Verily, the bottle date is on the top rim of the cork, an unfortunate placement because more often than not that very important wire cage is covering the date with its cap. That’s ok though; I do enjoy a healthy dosing of surprise in my life which upon closer inspection of this cork is what I received. Fellow friends, family, beer geeks, and Chimay spokespersons, I have before me a 2006 Chimay Cinq Cents and my excitement level just went from giddy to full on beer geek ecstasy. I tell you, I couldn’t pour her fast enough into my glass, hands atremble in excited anticipation. Illustrious hazy orange, straw, and gold depths with a splattering of amber sit beautifully under a huge puffy pithy head of the orange variety. She fades in splendid regalia, leaving lace every where she touches. A slow stream of bubbles laze their way to the surface, bursting in joyous abandon. There is a smidgen of dregs resting in the cusp of my glass, and without further ado I fully embrace her nose for all her worth. Spice, yeast, and dough ride atop banana cream while flurries of nutmeg and cinnamon tickle. Whole oranges lay before me, and as I slice into their ripe depths, juices flow and pithy esters mingle. For a playful nip in the finish, white pepper and green pepper, to mismatched cousins that manage to mingle harmonious with each other and the whole of my Cenq Cents nose. I feel like a kid at Christmas morning, hands at the ready to rip into her presents aglow with mystery and delight, and so I do. Drawing deep for the first of many amazing quaffs, green pepper and white pepper tickle and tease the front of my tongue which grins happily under a crunchy interplay of sliced and toasted Italian bread upon. Adding to the dryness of her palate is green grass and fresh bales of hay drying in the warm summer sun. The dryness could be attributed to her age, but it is far from detrimental to her palate. My breath is peppered with coriander and orange pith while an undercurrent of honeycomb sweetness carries her palate from start to finish. Her finish is dry and brittle with cinnamon, nutmeg, and dried flowers. Filling out the meat of her palate are oranges, pith, and bananas with their skins included. Warmth slowly starts to spread her supple fingers through my throat and into my chest, a wonderful counterbalance to the dryness of her palate which is simply divine. Setting pen and paper down, I divulge my full attentions upon this aged masterpiece.

There is no doubt that the 2006 Chimay Cinq Cents was far drier than a fresher bottle, and I am OK with that. I love the rich sweetness of a fresh Cinq Cents, but what age offers to this Trappist beauty is sophistication blessed with the perfect measure of dry earthiness. By all means, sup on a fresh one, but don’t be afraid to defy the Chimay dictum and age one for a few years and fall in love all over again as I did.