E.S.P.

For years, Westvleteren 12 sat at the top of the beer heap.  The Trappist breweries have long held their place as the elite among beermakers, & the strong, dark ale brewed at the Abbey of St. Sixtus is celebrated as the crème de la crème.  The Top [x] Beers on the internet’s two most popular beer reviewing sites, BeerAdvocate & RateBeer, were crowned for the longest time by this holiest of holy brews.  It still is at RateBeer, but recently Westy 12 has dropped all the way down to seventh place on BeerAdvocate’s list, trumped by some highly regarded IPAs & stouts (& some damn good ones, too). 

So what changed?  The tastebuds of beer geeks?  Maybe.  It’s no secret that IPAs are gaining in popularity as more & more people get acclimated to that challenging bitterness & are breaking through to the rewards beneath.  And the beer savvy always love a good stout.  But I think there’s a general change in the perception of Westy 12 since the brewers’ foray into stateside distribution last winter.  Until last December, Westvleteren’s brews were available exclusively at the abbey & the café across the street from the abbey.  They were sold by the crate during limited hours, & cars driven by thirsty beer hunters would line up at the side door, waiting to fill up with a load of this treasured quad.  They’ve since returned to this means of distribution, but for a short time were sold in retail stores across the nation in an effort to raise funds to repair a portion of the abbey.  The pedestal was shortened.  Beer lovers, who may have before only heard & dreamed of partaking, now had this forbidden fruit at their fingertips. 

And was it all they’d hoped for?  Judging by the dip in ranking, I’m assuming some were left wondering what all the fuss was about.  Which begs the question: How much is a drinker’s perception of a beer swayed by factors beyond actual sensory input?  The appearance, aroma, flavor, & texture of a brew may only tell part of the story.  It’s hard to deny that part of the allure of Westy 12 was the journey taken in uniting beer & beer lover (& it feels so good).  The cynical refer to it as “hype” & “tasting the rare”, & jibe the gullible beer geeks whose opinions are elevated by the thrill of the hunt, by grabbing that gold ring & gulping it down.  It’s hard to blame them – beer should be evaluated by its own merits, context be damned.  Right?

Again, maybe.  Actually yeah, really.  But to be the contrarian, there’s something to be said for savoring & appreciating the context & process that went into the beer, both before AND after it’s made.  Knowing the trip that you or the bottle had to take to make this experience possible probably augments it in the eyes of the drinker.  I think that’s perfectly valid.  Okay, you can’t polish a turd; if a beer is noticeably lacking or flawed it will probably fall flat, despite what sort of adventure it took or idyllic setting in which you may be drinking it.  But let’s not discount that story, that context, that perception of the beer that is “extra-sensory”.  If perception is reality & we’re in a heightened state of awareness, finely attuned to the qualities of a beer based on its background, shouldn’t our experience rightfully be elevated?  Sure, maybe it’s hype, maybe it’s self-fulfilling expectations, depending on your perspective.  But beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, & there’s some validity to that story being able to elevate a beer.  If something’s special, if there’s some magic to holding that holy grail in your hand, why fight it?  Westvleteren 12 is, in my opinion, a wonderful beer.  It’s not my favorite beer of all time, but I can see what earned it its esteem, & part of my admiration & excitement in drinking it is that it’s not at hand whenever I want some.  That it’s got that some air of mystery & esoteric elusiveness.  Part of me hopes there are always those gold rings to reach for.