Please welcome Andy MacWilliams back to the site. You may have seen him at a beer share or two.
It’s 10am on a cold but sunny day in Baltimore, Maryland and I am in line with a few dozen other folks. We are waiting for beer. Modern beer thinking would have you believe we are waiting for the release of a hazy IPA or a barrel aged adjunct stout, but that would be false. We are waiting for Belgian beer.
This Presidents’ Day weekend, Max’s Taphouse in the Fells Point neighborhood of Baltimore celebrated their 20th Belgian Beer Festival. The venerable watering hole that calls itself a sports bar and has more than 100 taps converts all of them over to Belgian styles for the weekend, most of which are imports, for a four-day event. Much has been written, including by DC Beer’s own Jake Berg, about the declining interest in these styles but for one long weekend in Baltimore, that disappears.
Step under the black, yellow, and red flags and maybe even underneath a giant pink elephant and walk into a beer bar that is unto itself in 2024. Chimay has its own dedicated four tap tower. Dubbels and sours and wits are passed over the bustling bar to an eager crowd that appears to include few novices. There is a style selection to please every customer. As I sit at my favorite seat at the corner of the bar, I see five 4-ounce glasses of Oud Beersel Kriek go out to a group of women that appears to be in their late 50s. A young man trying to show off to a date gets stumped when they are out of St. Bernardus. I surreptitiously point to De Dolle Oerbier and he thanks me later coming out of the mens’ room. Don’t be confused though; this is still Baltimore. A college student loudly announces that he’s only drinking beers over 10%. Lucky for him, there are plenty of quads on the menu. Many fail to realize, or maybe don’t care, that 8 oz and 4 oz options are available when they are handed 16 oz pours of beers 8% and above. The bulk of the crowd ain’t here to savor a tripel with their book club. It’s Baltimore and they are here to party.
Belgian beer stands, and has always stood, in contrast to German and, later, American styles. The resurgence of German beer has also been well documented by many (including DC Beer) and American beer owes much to the structure and process of Germanic technique. But often American brewing more closely emulates the creativity found in the breadth of the Belgian brewing portfolio. If German beer is realism, then Belgian beer tends to be abstract.
The path from German or English beer tradition to contemporary American brewing is far more linear than with Belgian. While the Brits were focused on what would travel throughout the empire well and the Germans were rooted in the reinheitsgebot, Belgian brewers were far more exploratory in their creations. Beyond a melting pot, America is a place that pushed boundaries and themes of experimentation in America brewing come directly from Belgian traditions. When DC Brau first opened its doors more than a decade ago, one of their four core beers was Citizen, a Belgian-style pale ale. Port City’s Optimal Wit couldn’t be more different from DC Brau Citizen and has been a cornerstone of their portfolio since they opened their doors. It’s also a 3 time Great American Beer Festival Medal winner (Citizen has won one, too).
Undoubtedly, Belgium’s most significant mark on American brewing culture has been sour beer. What was a cult group of styles up until the early 2000’s, sour beer has exploded in American breweries over the last 10 years. Beers that start their life in a coolship are often more common in American tap rooms than any Best Bitter or Dopplebock. In 2024, some of the most sought after sour or spontaneously fermented beers are made by American producers. I wonder what Franciscus Girardin would think about that.
As I reflect on my personal journey in beer, which began in earnest in 2006, I estimate I’ve attended more than 15 Belgian Fests at Max’s. Some years were outright bacchanals. There were years where I used a VIP invite to the Stillwater anniversary party to bypass the line. One year, when snow threatened to keep me at home in DC, I convinced my wife to drive to Baltimore with me only to park my (then company) car on top of a four-foot snowbank. In 2021 when Max’s reopened following COVID-19, I sampled singels and tripels outside in the parklet in 30-degree weather. For me, Belgian Fest has always served as a moment to reacquaint myself with so many different styles. It’s the beer equivalent of reading the literary canon… in a single afternoon.
This year, like all years, the draft list is as diverse and eclectic as my memories of the event are. A pair of Tilquin experimental sour samples are both incredibly well made and indelibly different. The Bavik Unfiltered Super Pils shines with simplicity and cleanliness. The Fantome Mayor Unusual’s Meeow! is exceptionally bizarre. In other terms, exactly what you expect to get from Fantome. In a country roughly the same size as the state of Maryland (11,500 sq/mi to 12,400 sq/mi), I feel like I’ve hit Flanders, Brussels and Wallonia in a single seating.
The real star of the festival though, is Max’s tireless staff. If you only pop into Max’s once a year then you are still likely to recognize a member of the staff. Some of the people serving in 2024 are the same as when they started the festival in 2004. Max’s reported more than 3,300 glasses filled on Saturday alone. The tap list started on Friday with 113 different offerings (for comparison, Churchkey in DC has 54 including casks). As general manager Jason Scheerer says, “it’s a shit load of kegs to tap.” That doesn’t include changes or replacements during the festival and keeping all of the lines organized and clean. Snallygaster, the largest beer event in the region, is over within six hours of starting. Max’s will be open roughly sixteen hours per day for four straight days serving all these Belgians.
If you’re never made it up to Max’s Taphouse in Fells Point and you’ve read this far then do yourself a favor and make an appointment. Soon. And if you’ve never been to a Belgian Fest there then drop me a note. I’ll be standing in line again in 2025.
[Editor’s note: interested in sour and Belgian-style ales? Check out Alexandria’s Mieza Blendery.]
