Several weeks ago, The Economist asserted that “Belgium has served its purpose” and the orderly dissolution of the country as a whole should not be delayed. Sure, you could cite the bloated welfare state or the vast differences between the Flemish-speaking North and French-speaking South as factors hastening the decline of Europe’s 175 year old C-student. But it’s the utter indifference of its citizenry to a united Belgium that may strike the death blow to the current seat of EU power.
I probably won’t be going out on a limb to say that readers of this page, like me, consider Belgium’s greatest asset to be its beer. And while there will always be a place for the monks in the highest echelons of discerning booziness, we need not look exclusively to ”Old Europe” for beer that, as college students, we would have kicked our own asses for drinking. (Somewhere, former Secretary Rumsfeld is laughing… and plotting… and laughing.)
The explosion of American talent in the area of Belgian- style brewing during the last decade has been astounding. From breweries like Russian River to Avery to Allagash, the Belgian genius spans coast to coast. Somewhere in the middle, say between Kansas and Cleveland (as once posited by a classmate at a top 25 university) lies Indianapolis and an upstart brewery called Brugge Brasserie.
Begun in 2005 by a group of high school friends, including ER actor Abraham Benrubi, Brugge brews onsite and carries an ever-changing list of Belgian-style favorites. Their popular offerings include the “Tripel de Ripple,” winner of a Silver Medal at the 24th Annual Great American Beer Festival. Demand for the brews has outpaced the limited onsite facilities, leading to offsite expansion at the former Terre Haute Brewing Company. The additional capacity means that Brugge’s beers will soon be available in stores. Whether you choose to knock back a Champagne-style bottle of the Tripel over an episode of Cops, or tackle the Grand Cru on draft during the Colts game, you’ll be enjoying some of the best Belgian-style beer this side of Flanders.
Ultimately, should the indifference of the Belgian people prevail and the Belgium identity falter, the idea of Belgian beer as we know it may never be the same. This will not stop the indefatigable monks from putting out world-class beer—thankfully. Nevertheless, the notion of Belgian beer doesn’t work too well without a Belgium (Prussian vodka anyone?) Fortunately for us, the diaspora of brewing talent extends to the “New World.” And should he find himself exiled from the battleground of Europe, there is a town somewhere between Kansas and Cleveland where Belgium’s King Albert II could still get a great beer.
Lightning strikes at the Brugge Brasserie in Indianapolis, IN