Chimay Triple / Blanche (White)

Brewed by Chimay
Style: Abbey Tripel
Baileux, Belgium

draught. had a two finger white foamy head. aroma of the sweetness from fruit and smell of hops. good bitterness from the hops and not too sweet from fruit.

Draught. Hazy Orange with thin white head. Aroma is raisins and oranges and much much lighter lemon. Flavors are creamy and soothing but much the same notes as the nose. Flavors go sour and sweet; back and forth, back and forth but ending dry long and lasting.

Strong beer which hides it wonderfully (as all of Chimay’s line-up). Cloudy light brown. Sweet fruity flavour. Easier to drink than most triples. Has a raw feel to it.

Bottle. Pours a pale hazy yellow with a big fluffy head which leaves much lacing. Nice. The aroma is complex, very fruity. Some banana, some light tropical fruitiness, and loads of yeast and spices. A hint of alcohol. Some wheatlike characteristics. Quite sweet, with a solid lingering semidry finish to top it off. Carbonation is lively, yet it feels smooth and full in the mouth. Refreshing and drinkable, yet the alcohol heat reminds you it’s no lightweight. Definitely a good one.

330 mL Bottle. The label is marked with a "serve before end of 2012" best-before date. Hazy gold body with a one-finger foamy white head that settles to a clingy creamy layer. Aroma is rich, complex, mild but fruity-malty. Faint nuances of wine, raisins, and spice. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!! Very bizarre yet interesting: silky smooth all the way, a rich fruity-malty flavor, bubblegum and cherry cough drop accompany the hops in the aftertaste, and then a warm fine-brandy-like finish. This beer has tied on my scoreboard with its own sibling, Chimay Bleue.

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.

Vintage 2008. Serving date: 2009-01-23. Served in snifter. Presentation: 330 ml bottle with freshness date (Best before end of 2010) and recommended serving temperature, glassware and cellaring procedure on the label. Golden yellow with brownish hues. Rather hazy. A semi-hard pour into my large-bodied snifter creates a big white head that looks creamy and thick. The head settles rather slowly and leaves a nice coat and some lacings. Citric notes and fruity aromas (mostly bananas I think) in the smell. Some wheat and subtle yeast aromas are here as well. Citric and banana-like fruit flavors. Yeast and wheat provides a nice grainy and earthy character. The alcohol is present and leaves a little twang, but it’s unbelievably well-balanced. The big and long finish is a bit dry, slightly alcoholic and has a distinct but gentle bitterness that sits side by side with a pleasant spices and white pepper. The finish is really good on this one, and its semi-dry spicy character seems everlasting. Rather smooth and creamy considering its medium body and the generous amount of carbonation. Another great Belgian classic, and all in all a wonderful beer. The aromas are perhaps not overly interesting, but the taste is so well-balanced and complex. As for the alcohol, you definitely notice it, but it fits into the overall character. Serving type: bottle (Copy of old Beer Advocate review)

Only had this once and that was a couple months ago. Unfortunately I didn’t take down the details. I do remember that it scored well on all counts. Will gladly get this beer again to give full rating. For now though this was good.