Ahhhhh De Garre. Who wouldn’t want to drink a beautiful golden nectar only to feel enveloped in a heart warming sensation? A sensation so elegantly brought upon by a Tripel that contains 11% alcohol!
What is a Tripel you say? Ah hah. Admittedly, I was neither the wiser. According to my very reliable internet sources, Tripel is a term used in the Netherlands and Belgium to describe strong ale.
If you are in Bruges and find yourself in a ‘garre’ (gap) between two chocolate stores named La Belgique Gourmande and Bruyerre on Breidelstraat, then you, my friend, have found the magical, discreet alleyway that will reward your tastebuds with golden happiness in a glass.
Hidden away from the throngs of tourists, you can find De Garre – a quaint beer sanctuary – down a narrow, cobblestone alleyway. De Garre has all the makings of a good ol’ fashioned pub with a no fuss, no muss atmosphere.
Gestured by the barman to an empty table next to the entrance, I plopped myself down into a warm seat. The pub didn’t seem too busy and there were a fair amount of happy drinkers enjoying themselves.
I was recommended the house beer, Tripel De Garre. Served on a tray with a small helping of cubed cheese, a decently sized bulb-like shaped glass is filled with an alarming amount of foam. You too may stay dubious until your first sip of this golden beauty.
Oh Golden Gates of Heaven. As your lips leave the tip of the glass, this heavenly Tripel slowly trickles down your glass like golden liquid crystals that should never have left your mouth in the first place. A beer connoisseur, I am not but simply put — the Tripel De Garre is wondrously creamy with light notes of fruit that end with the perfect amount of bitterness. This is when the cubed cheese comes in to wrap up your Tripel De Garre experience into a pretty bow!
Giving into my greedy self and lack of better judgement, I ordered my 2nd glass of Tripel. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the Tripel contains 11% alcohol. Santé!
As I was sipping alone, my ears were privy to some of the conversations being made at my neighbouring tables. One table in particular stood out hilariously.
Two tables away, a group of 3 old men were chatting away merrily like a bunch of teenagers. What I’ve learnt is that boys will always be boys even when they are at the ripe ol’ age of 70!
“That Margaret, she’s a widow, ya know?”
“Yeah, you tell her how it should be done!”
Waving down the barman, I asked him to discreetly put another three beers on my tab for the 3 old men. Specifying only to serve them after my departure. If they asked why, I told the barman to simply relay to them that I was thoroughly entertained by their cheeky conversations.
Looking at me stangely, the barman reluctantly agreed. Once he returned with my bill, the barman said he didn’t think it was a good idea as the elderly men were on their last beers and returning to their wives. He began to speak louder and told me to walk over there and tell them myself.
In my head, I’m thinking…
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I just want to buy these guys some beers, no strings attached! Also, shhhhhh! This is a small pub, man.
Who knew it could be so hard for a girl to buy some strangers a round of drinks?!”
Slightly buzzed and running late to meet my cousin, I left the matter as is. Would that stop me from coming back? The answer is a polite, HELL NO! Treat yourself to a beautiful glass of Tripel De Garre if ever in Bruges. Perhaps you’ll be better at buying strangers drinks than I am 😛
Till our next drink together,