We all know that Westvleteren XII was one of the first hype beers. Its transformation from local favorite to global phenomenon was almost overnight, and saw beer hunters start flocking to the gates of the rural Belgian abbey in growing numbers. The monks weren’t happy about it, but people had an insatiable craving for the stuff. To be honest, I was very eager to try it too, and found a bottle in Barcelona almost 10 years ago for a ridiculous, six-times markup, which left me wondering and confused. Later, we did a blind tasting of St. Bernardus and Westvleteren beers, and “the world’s best beer” was outperformed.
One Saturday last December, we came to In de Vrede, the restaurant and bar run by Westvleteren, to tick off the last Belgian Trappist abbey from the “been there” list. I expected to arrive to crowds of beer geeks, but never in my life have I seen a cafe so packed with elderly people. They greeted each other by name, tapped each other on the shoulder, laughed, and talked over goblets of golden and deep brown beers. They were locals. And the place was full of them.
As I watched one pair go, beer in hand, it dawned on me how far an outsider’s impression can be from the truth. For the beer crowd, Westvleteren remains a coveted and sought-after beer and location (even if much of the hype has since died down). But for this bunch of people, it’s just a place to chat to friends on a weekend night.
Words + Photo by Lana Svitankova