Orval

Orval occupies a strange place in beer because people talk about it with the kind of reverence normally reserved for ancient religious texts or extremely expensive Burgundy. Fairly understandable once you drink one properly though.

Brewed inside Orval Abbey in southern Belgium, the beer stands apart from nearly every other Trappist ale stylistically. Rather than dark strong ales packed with caramel and dried fruit, Orval leans pale, dry, bitter and unmistakably alive thanks to Brettanomyces added during bottle conditioning.

Fresh bottles carry citrus, peppery hops, herbs and firm bitterness, while older bottles gradually develop earthy funk, leather and farmhouse complexity as the Brett evolves over time. Few beers change so dramatically with age while still remaining recognisably themselves. It’s one of the reasons beer obsessives quietly fill cupboards with bottles “for later” before drinking them too early anyway.

What makes Orval particularly brilliant is balance. Despite the wild yeast character, nothing feels excessive or messy. The bitterness, dryness and funk all lock together with remarkable precision. Even the famous curved bottle somehow feels perfectly suited to the beer’s slightly monastic eccentricity.

The abbey itself adds enormously to the atmosphere too. Trappist brewing remains rooted in monastic life rather than marketing mythology, and Orval still feels deeply connected to that tradition despite becoming one of the world’s most influential beers.