Kulminator

Matt and Denise and I had two goals during our visit to Antwerp en route to Bruges: we wanted to see the large cathedral in the historic center of town, and we wanted to drink beer at Kulminator, a bar that is renowned for its aged beer selection. Unfortunately, Kulminator's opening time threw a wrench into our plans; it did not open until 4:00pm, and we arrived at 1:00pm. So we decided to push on through the Bruges and stop back at Kulminator when we connected in Antwerp on our way back to Amsterdam the next day.

The plan went off without a hitch. We walked quickly through the light rain on the crowded Antwerp sidewalks and arrived at the bar at about 4:15, just after an extremely loud group of Belgian hooligans, who inspired an hours worth of eye bulging and eye rolling from Denise and Matt and me, and just before a group of about a dozen older locals who were getting their afternoon strong beer fix.

A little over half of the Chimay Blue options, with alcohol content on the left,  followed by volume, year, and price.

The menu lived up to its reputation. The bottled beers were described on 20 or so pages, with each cellared year getting its own row and price. As I'd read online, the bar was owned and operated by a couple in their 60's. When the wife of the duo came to take our order, Matt and I had made little progress in going through the menu and deciding which of 400 beers we wanted to order. We asked her what she'd recommend on draft, and she told us that she currently had a trappist beer that was only being served at the Kulminator. So we went with that.

The La Trappe on tap

Denise was trying to protect against fetal brain damage, so she didn't order any beer. She did want some food, though, and Matt and I thought a snack would go well with the La Trappes. So we ordered the smallest and least expensive plate of cheese. Which also happened to be the largest plate of cheese that any of the three of us had ever seen. And maybe the most delicious.

Cheese Mountain

Something on the menu caught my eye as Matt and I were drinking our La Trappes: a row that seemed to advertise a flight of three Chimays, one each from 2012, 2002, and 1992, for 23 euro. Chimay Blue was the highest quality, fanciest beer available when I was in college (and right before the U.S. craft beer explosion), typically reserved for special occasions. I couldn't pass up drinking one that had been aged for 10 years - that had basically been bottled the same year that I'd tried the beer for the first time.

The owner opened and poured each for us, and she noted the decreasing carbonation as time passed. In contrast to her pour of the 2012, which had been slow and careful, she poured the 1992 from a few feet above the glass in an effort to whip up a little bit of head. The bottles showed their age as well, with the label on the 1992 deteriorated and covered with some kind of dusty material.

The contrast in flavors was incredible. The 2012 tasted like a typical Chimay Blue, the 2002 tasted a bit sweater, and the 1992 tasted a bit like port. Matt thought that they started tasting more like chocolate as they aged; I thought I caught some hints of sour cherries. Regardless, they were all delicious, and this ended up being a beer highlight, up there with touring the Stone Brewery (well, and Deschutes Brewery, and Rogue Brewery, and Sam Adams Brewery).

Interior of Kulminator