The Hunt for #7
Well, it seems that most people think of three things when they visit Brussels: good beer, good chocolate, and a small (apparently infatuating) statue of a pissing boy. Before I wax and wane about beer I would like to say two things about children…the first is that a 7 hour plane ride with a crying child in front of you is still one of the best forms of birth control. Secondly, I had no desire to see a small pissing boy statue, but happened to wander into the small alcove into which he has been proudly pissing and chuckling for centuries. If any of you have seen this statue feel free to say otherwise, but that is the most ripped statue of a child I have ever seen. Did this child bully the whole town into making him a statue of himself peeing? If that is the case, I doubly approve of it being built.
Alas, to the much more important topic: Trappist Beer! Trappist monks have been creating beer for centuries to help support their life. This day and age there are rules about such practices; only seven breweries are allowed to carry the near-sacred seal of approval of the highly regulated trappist branding. The beers are delicious, complex, and to me hard to describe in words. Only six of these breweries export their delicacies outside of Belgium. Westvleteren stands alone in a capitalist market. They produce only enough beer to provide for themselves… no profits and no supply and demand curves. Maybe it’s the slight amount of romanticism involved, or maybe its the fact it is nigh-unattainable but all of their four brews left me speechless. I will save the descriptions of malt and hops for the experts and just enjoy this fine beer, but simply put I think the blond (the lightest of the Westvleteren brews) is the best. I found it a perfect end to the first day of my travels watching the choreographed light and music show on the Grand Palace while sipping a most rare delicacy.
