The “Deuce”

Quite literally the champagne of beers, Deus Brut des Flandres is light and sparkly and — if you ask some of the beefier beer advocates out there — for girls. (This despite the fact that it’s extremely challenging to not pronounce its name “deuce.”)
It was an unseasonably hot Sunday afternoon and we were gawking at our favorite 7-11 beer fridge when a guy we pegged for an unlikely beer coniseour started loading up a milk crate with bottles of Duvel, Three Philosophers and Golden Draak. The dude seemed grittier than most Belgian drinkers, sporting mud-splattered construction boots, Oakley sunglasses and heavy metal facial hair. After a long consideration he grabbed one last bottle, a Deus, and lugged his loot to the check-out counter. Standing behind him in line, we couldn’t help put pipe up, “Have you tried the Deus before? It’s totally nuts if you age it.” Turning first to his friend (backwards cap and smug face) and then very, very slowly at us, the dude scoffed and waited a moment before saying “That’s for my girlfriend.” As if to make clear that this was a ‘fuck you,’ and not just a statement of fact.
Well, let the dusch drink his Duvel while his lady friend sips the good shit.
Deus ain’t bombastic, despite its fairly high 10% ABV. That’s thanks to the fact that it’s literally brewed as if it were a champagne (aged 12 months in French caves, removed of its yeast the same way sparkling wines are). But it’s not easy on the pallet either. The smooth and curvy champagne-imitating bottle is a bit of a tongue twister too because you almost expect it to taste like wedding bubbles, that’s certainly what it looks like. On first pour, the foam threatens to spill over and the color is only slightly deeper than your average Dom P. The nose is an ambiguous spice and a very mild booze waft. It hits the lips tasting like some mad scientist mix between bergamot and chamomile, mildly reminiscent of a beer-scented lotion. What the deus?
It’s admittedly refined ($26 retail), a little floral, not altogether manly per say. But man, this stuff is rewardingly confusing, giving any Belgian a run for its money in the ‘complexity’ category. And like most special brews in this world, it gets better the more you drink it. Don’t get us wrong, this is not the stuff of ‘go home, need to crack a beer,’ it’s special occasion stuff. That’s why we only sip it in our best low-cut slips and pantyhose.
Dairy Pairy: Monte Enebro
Soundtrack: David Bowie’s “Velvet Goldmine”