Hell or Duvel!

We thought it would be best to review our newest beer here at Three Cheers for Beers. We're reviewing Duvel beer this week, and we admit, we were a little biased from the getgo (get-go? we don't know). You'll soon come to see that Belgians know how to make beer that please the tasters here at TC4Bs: flavorful, fun, and fruity. But we digress: the beer at hand is Duvel, and though we were impressed by their hip, chic, and jazzy-infused website, what we were really impressed by was its golden and light color which beguiled its deep and intense (we won't lie, it said it on the label) flavor. A little flowery, the aroma hints little of the beers we're used to. The head is incredible--the best we've ever seen--with a creamy, pure-white color floating at least an inch-plus above the very tippy-top of the rim of the substitute tulip glass we used to sample it. The perfect pour was easy for anyone who's poured any amount of Chimay (of any variety), and at a for-real rating of 8.5% alc/vol, even we had enough after two. Don't be fooled by the small (yet indie-approved!) bottle and the tad pricey (yet Belgian typical) tag--Duvel would be hell to miss.

The Basics

Let's begin: Stella Artois. We all know what separates us from those who order (without thinking, mind you!) the mic-ultra at the long table: a complete and total superiority complex. That, along with the fact that we don't like the way animal feces taste will foster any sort of appreciation for real, live beer in anyone, no matter how hardcore the theta chi. Or Beta Phi. Or whatever. Listen, we're here to help, not hurt. At any rate, let's say you've always been on board with the theory that if you're going to take in over a hundred calories per bottle, or buy alcohol at a dollar per bottle, or have a large amount of glass per volume of trash your landlady (or, for argument's sake, your mom) will take to the dumpster per week, you might as well enjoy it--that's why we exist. And we wouldn't gain any ground with You, the consummate consumer, if we didn't at once and at last, review that yuppiest of yups beer, Stella Artois.

We like it.

That's right, we like it. It's a golden ale that comes in a narrow, squarish green glassed bottle with a white label that boasts a beginning in 1366. It costs about fifteen (15) bucks a case, has a bit over 5.2% alc/vol, and it goes down quicker than you can say "abusive dependence." Even Murphy, the youngest of our judges, is going for it, which means it's Stella Artois, and we all like it, even you, you yuppie-wannabe indie-rocker George Wendt-wisher wallaby.

Even you.