The strong Scotch ale of Scotland, also known as a wee heavy, is an often-misunderstood beer style in several ways. Seen as the big brother to the more common Scottish or shilling ales, they are really derived from different ancestors. While peat is abundant in Scotland, peat-smoked malt is not used in the production of beer, despite what some sources claim. Finally, some (typically, American) homebrewer methods to get a Scottish-like character have been interpreted as being authentic and used by commercial brewers in Scotland — not the case, either. 

I sometimes get into arguments with brewers, and separately with writers and historians, about the nature of Scottish ale (and other beer styles, to be fair). Understanding what ingredients and methods are used by commercial breweries over the years in the evolution of styles is important to trace influences and development paths. But once you understand the desired sensory profile, people should realize that there are many legitimate paths to get that in a finished beer. Using non-traditional ingredients or methods doesn’t automatically mean the result won’t be recognizable. Likewise, authentic doesn’t always equate to best-tasting. Just don’t be too sweeping in your judgments and proclamations about the beer.

A wee heavy is a rich, warming beer with a full-bodied, chewy, sweet malt profile that includes caramel, toffee, and fruity flavors. It reflects a definite Scottish national beer character, one that favors restrained bitterness, lower attenuation, and deeper colors. It is categorized as style 17C Wee Heavy in the Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP) Style Guidelines in the Strong British Ale category, along with British strong ale, English barleywine, and old ale — all stronger, malty beers from the British Isles. The Scottish ales (light, heavy, and export) are in a separate style category.

History

Scotland is the country north of England on the island of Great Britain. Politically, it is part of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, commonly known as the U.K. The Scots are a different people than the English, but both can be called British. England and Scotland have been politically united since 1707, which had an impact on the development of brewing traditions, although they became more distinct after the Free Mash Tun Act of 1880, which reduced regulations.

Scottish ales have some similarity with English pale ales and mild ales, but the stronger wee heavy is descended from a maltier, stronger beer known as Edinburgh ale, which is more similar to the old Burton ale of England (except not as heavily hopped). Like Burton ales, Edinburgh ales (and wee heavies) were often available in different strengths, although a greater range was available in the past (up to 12% ABV). Today, two gravity ranges are common, a mundane 5–6% beer and a more respectable 8–9% version.

Edinburgh ales were dark, strong, and sweet, and were exported from Edinburgh since before the 1800s. These were called Scotch ale, but this does not mean that they were related to Scotch whisky, peat-smoked malt, or barrel aging. The name wee heavy means little strong (likely meaning a strong beer in a small bottle), but is derived from Fowler’s Wee Heavy, a historical 12 guinea ale. Guinea was a currency, like shilling, and in a similar manner described a price at a certain time for a specific Scottish beer.

If you prefer to call the style strong Scotch ale or simply Scotch ale, that’s a reasonable alternative to wee heavy. It’s then up to you to remember that Scotch ale and Scottish ale are different. Honestly, this is why the BJCP made the choice to call it wee heavy — less chance for confusion. While having a historical foundation, the style has become a modern craft brewing era favorite, taking on a new worldwide life separate from its Scottish roots.

Sensory Profile

As I’ve mentioned, the first and most important point about a wee heavy is that it isn’t just a stronger Scottish ale; it has more richness, sweetness, body, and depth, especially the strength of caramel flavors. I’ve said it’s a bit like a less bitter and hoppy Burton ale, but those are mostly an anachronism, so maybe think of them as a darker, more caramelly English barleywine. While the strength can be as low as 6.5% (and some are even lower), many of the better-known examples are stronger, up to 10%.

The Scottish character is evident in that the beer is darker in color (copper to dark brown) and balanced towards sweetness by keeping the bitterness low. The fermentation is cleaner than most English ales, although there are often esters from the ingredients or higher-gravity fermentation. The mouthfeel is heavier, with a thicker, chewier impression from a medium-full to full body and a dextrinous viscosity. 

The flavor and aroma are malt-focused with a rich, bready-toasty base and a strong caramel-toffee accent. Medium to low esters may be present, with dark or dried fruit being more common. Hop aroma and flavor are typically absent or very low. Roast is rare as well, as the beer should not taste like a porter or stout, but sometimes can have a touch of dryness in the finish from dark grains. The malt flavors can take on a wide range of caramelized sugar and toasted bread notes, in combination.

Stronger versions will often have a noticeable, medium to low alcohol component, although the residual sweetness and body often does a good job of masking this element. The alcohol can provide some of the balance that bitterness provides, since that component is typically low. The finish is usually medium-dry to sweet, although the impression of sweetness is often increased by the lower bitterness and higher esters.

Stronger beers are often aged longer, and Scotch ales are no exception. The longer storage times could lead to an increase in the perceived caramel and fruit notes as minor oxidation takes place. This is not an intentional process, but could contribute to the more caramelly, sweet, fruity examples that those not in Scotland are likely to find as imports.

Brewing Ingredients and Methods

Scottish ales in general are made with a base of pale ale malt and a small amount (2%, maybe) of something dark, like black malt, chocolate malt, or rarely, roasted barley. Brewing sugars and crystal malts are sometimes used for color (as is commercial caramel colorant). Adjuncts such as corn and wheat may be used, but are usually not a large portion of the grist. Pale ale malt often makes up 85% or more of the recipe. And, once again, peat-smoked malt is not used by brewers, only distillers.

The pale ale malt is often British, sometimes even Scottish, but doesn’t have to be the distinctive fancy malt like Maris Otter with robust biscuity flavors. While I often have a preference for Golden Promise malt, that is a more expensive product that is often not used when cheaper generic 2-row pale ale malt is available. 

You may find homebrew recipes using a wide range of crystal malts for caramel and toffee flavors, but these are not as widely used commercially in Scotland. I certainly have created recipes that layer different crystal malt flavors to attempt to replicate the complex commercial flavors I have tasted, and it can work, just know it isn’t traditional. Scottish breweries are more often using dark invert sugars and caramel colorants, which are typically harder for homebrewers in North America to source.

Another homebrew method often discussed is kettle caramelization where first runnings are boiled down to increase the caramel flavors, but this method can sometimes produce buttery flavors mistaken for diacetyl. I like this method, but also note that it isn’t traditional. I look at it as a substitute for some of the invert sugars. Some homebrewers use longer direct-fired boils, which is not a common practice in Scotland (Caledonian once used direct-fire, but not longer boils), although Traquair House (a relatively tiny brewery opened in the 1960s) is known to use a longer two- to three-hour boil. A favorite of beer writer Michael Jackson, the story of this beer could have led to the thought that this practice was more widely used than brewing records support.

Scottish brewers tend to use single-infusion mashes, often with multiple sparges. Commercial brewers may parti-gyle their beers, producing multiple beers from the same mash, although this practice is used more in English beers. Homebrewers can produce beers with a single infusion, often with a higher mash temperature (say, around 152–158 °F or 67–70 °C) to produce a more dextrinous mash, which helps create a less attenuated and sweeter finished beer.

The hopping level for wee heavy seems to me to be less than in Scottish ales, since the finish is often perceived as being sweeter. English varieties are most commonly used, such as Golding and Fuggle for late hopping, and any variety for bittering. I think many U.S. commercial brewers shoot for a lower bitterness level, or increase the maltiness and caramel flavors to affect the balance.

Scottish ale yeast is cool-fermenting, but not as cold as with lagers — it’s more like that of altbier and Kölsch temperatures, around 59 °F (15 °C). The Scottish ale yeast strains available from multiple suppliers are fairly clean, work well at cooler temperatures, clear well, and tend to leave some residual sweetness. If you select a different strain, remember that these are the desirable characteristics to seek. Scottish brewing water is fairly soft, so I would avoid minerally profiles.

Scottish ales are styles where homebrewers love to experiment and build flavor profiles often with non-traditional methods and ingredients. I think that’s a lot of fun, and helps when you can’t get the right ingredients, but don’t be fooled into thinking that just because you hit the desired flavor profile that Scottish brewers must also be using these methods.

Homebrew Example

While I have made all manner of strong Scotch ales over the years, I think this version strikes a good compromise between strength and drinkability. I really like Traquair House Ale, and this is certainly inspired by it, albeit at a greater strength. It uses homebrew techniques like kettle caramelization, but otherwise is fairly true to commercial techniques Scottish brewers use.

I’m using Golden Promise malt as the base, which is my preference for any Scottish beer. I’ve also made good versions where half the base is an English pale ale malt, and the other half is a more dextrinous malt like mild malt. I’m using about 2% roasted barley for color and a little dryness, which is not generally traditional for Scotch ales but is used in Traquair House Ale. You can use a debittered black malt or something like Carafa® Special III, if you prefer. 

I’m mashing at a higher infusion temperature to give a more dextrinous body, and keeping the bitterness at a lower level to play up the sweetness. A single addition of hops for bitterness is sufficient, and anything British will do. The caramelization of the first runnings will give caramel flavors and a darker color without the use of crystal malt. I’ve made versions of this beer using a variety of crystal malts instead, but that also isn’t a traditional method. But it approximates the desired flavor profile, and that is what matters more to me.

I have always used Wyeast 1728 (Scottish Ale) in my Scottish recipes, and am happy with it. Fermenting it cool is traditional, and the yeast does work well at this temperature. The recipe lists some possible substitutes. Whichever way you decide to go, stick with yeast that are clean and can handle lower temperature fermentations.

I prefer to age my stronger beers for several months to allow the alcohol to mellow, but that’s a personal preference. If you can’t stand to wait, I won’t judge you.

As the year heads towards the end, our thoughts turn to the fancy of a big beer. “But isn’t it too late? You need to brew big beers months prior.” Much like a tree where the best time to plant it was a decade ago, the second-best time is now. Of course, with modern brewing practices you don’t always need to wait a year to drink your giant beer.

Definitions first: What’s “big?” For ease of this discussion, we’ll put our floor at 1.080 OG. Ceiling? Let’s say maple syrup levels of 1.320 OG. Actually, if you made a beer that strong, we’ll applaud your reckless enthusiasm for very dumb projects. (And we’ll wonder how you plan on fermenting that monster.)

Now, we’ve both brewed big, stupid things like Drew’s now infamous Samichlaus clone called “Falconsclaws” and Denny is routinely creating bold Belgian beers. To say we have some experience is underselling it, but even with all that experience we’re still confounded with the changes that happen! 

When you go big you will find new challenges. Your previously well-documented and well-behaved mash tun will become reluctant to give up the sugar it shared freely before you fed it a gluttonous diet. All that grain takes up unexpected volume when mixed with water — messing up your intuitive sense of water amounts. How much do you collect? How long do you need to boil? And even, or maybe especially, your old reliable favorite yeast strains will require extra attention and coaxing to fulfill their life’s purpose. 

In other words, things get wibbly when you go big.

The Recipe

Your first challenge when brewing big is structuring a recipe that will work. Your first inclination will invariably be “let’s go BIG!” A lot of this, a little of that, etc. Being silly lends a goofy air to our choices with the exuberant energy of a kid hopped up on cotton candy at the local carnival. 

We caution you to remember that “this, that, and, oh, that too” adds up to a lot in a beer that by definition will have a lot going on. Use what you need, but sparingly so, because there will be a literal tun filled with base malt. 

Taking a cue from history, Bass No. 1, usually credited as the first beer named “barley wine,” was reputedly made from 100% pale malt. Having made several barleywines in this fashion, we can say you get a very lovely beer when you choose a characterful base malt. In other words, don’t expect the same results from 100% domestic Pilsner malt as 100% Maris Otter. 

If you do add character malts, tread lightly. If 100% pale malt gives enough character, you really don’t need much more! Our general rule of thumb about crystal malts is to keep them less than 10%, but for a bigger beer, we’d recommend starting even lower.

One thing that is definitely a nice touch is adding sugar. It has other advantages (more on this later), but from a recipe perspective, sugar’s clean fermentability leading an air of “dryness” is a boon to those attempting to make a less sweet final beer. 

The Mash

Mind the Volume 

We usually don’t have to think about our mash tun capacity as most projects don’t approach the extreme limits. When you’re going big, you need to mind the volume. Remember the rule of thumb that each pound (0.45 kg) of grain will take up roughly 0.13 gallons of volume (or 0.9 kg will take up 1 L) . When we brew in our 40-liter system (~10.5 gallons), we can fit nearly 30 lbs. (13.6 kg) of grain in that vessel. 

How much grain you can fit in will also vary with how much water you add. While you can gain some room by reducing the initial amount of water, remember that will make your mash harder to run off and impact efficiency if you push too far.

Adjust Your Expectations

Brewing science and brewing calculations are brilliantly on point when you’re doing something “normal” (e.g., beers in the 4–7% ABV range). So, we have a tendency to think, “I plug the numbers into my recipe calculator and those will be what I get.” Then we get upset when the physical universe refuses to confirm to the theoretical possibility. 

Go into this project with the knowledge that you probably won’t get what the calculators say and in fact will probably grossly undershoot. Drew’s experienced his usually reliable 75–80% efficiency plummet to 55–60% when going large. In part, this can be mitigated by adding more grain or sugar, but even when compensating gravities don’t play fair and square. So, prepare to accept lower original gravities or go for a longer boil and lower volume if the number is dead set important for you.

Sugar is Your Friend 

It wasn’t that long ago that any adjunct was looked down upon by craft and homebrewers as “lesser.” As stated earlier, sugar is your friend when going big, and that includes malt extract. Even in commercial breweries it’s not uncommon to use it for 10–20% of the sugar content to boost gravities. (For most homebrew-sized batches this would equate to 1–3 pounds in a 5-gallon batch or 0.5–1.5 kg/19 L.)

It’s not cheating, and it can make for a better final product. Besides, if you don’t use sugar in making a strong Belgian beer, you’re making your life more difficult for what?

The Ferment

Baby Your Yeast

We’ve repeatedly banged the drum that “Healthy and Vital Yeast Forgives a Number of Sins!” In other words, give your beer enough healthy yeast and you can screw up in a lot of ways and still get a decent drop at the end. That mantra becomes carved into a stone tablet of deity-derived wisdom when it comes to your large beer projects. Starting with an inadequate supply of yeast because you’re trying to save time or money is running straight into the arms of a bigger waste as your beer suffers for your penurious ways.

If you’re short on time, at least buy several packs of yeast to jumpstart your beer. For our money, the best thing you can do is plan ahead and create a “starter beer” — aka a beer brewed with the eye of generating a yeast cake. It’s a wonderful idea, because you get two beers out of one silly “big beer” idea. Just brew a low- to moderate-strength beer, say 4–6% ABV, transfer, and use a portion of the resulting yeast cake to ferment your big beer. You don’t want to use all of the yeast cake! When making his big Samichlaus-inspired strong lager, Drew brews a 5-gallon (19-L) batch of schwarzbier and splits the resulting yeast cake across 30 gallons (13.6 L) of the big stuff. (And remember, lagers are recommended to have higher pitching rates!) 

This is also a really good time to cozy up to your favorite brewery and very politely ask the brewers if they’re getting ready to dump yeast. Bring them a sanitized growler or jar and get more healthy yeast than you can shake a stick at. 

One other advantage to large amounts of healthy yeast — it simplifies the oxygen game. We used to recommend adding copious amounts of oxygen at pitching time and 12–24 hours after pitching — the idea being to encourage enough sterol production to create flexible new cell walls to handle the intense fermentation event. While we still think adding oxygen when you pitch is a good measure, we no longer recommend the later additions due to fears of staling and contamination.

Keep Your Cool

Big beers have a reputation for some aggressive fermentation characteristics — and we don’t just mean rollicking kräusens threatening to shoot out of your airlock! But because of the harsh fermentation stresses, yeast cells will often secrete compounds we consider “off-flavors” — think your phenols, esters, and fusel alcohols. Pitching a ton of vital yeast is step one in warding off those problematic sensations. 

The second is keeping your ferment cool, at least for the first part of the process. When the yeast is in the lag/reproductive phase is when a number of those stressor chemicals are produced. To combat that phenomenon, we recommend keeping your fermentation consistently chilly early on. Think 63 °F (17 °C) for an ale ferment. If you hold there for at least the first three days of fermentation, you’ll keep the yeast relaxed and slow down the chemical processes that cause extra heat and stress. After those first few days, you’ll want to allow the fermentation to rise in temperature to encourage a complete fermentation. 

Stay Patient

How much time your beer will take is one of those fun debates. In the older days, the recommendation was “seal up the fermenter and wait a few months.” It feels like most of those rules were needed due to poor yeast health. 

With all that vitality you threw at your beer, you should be fine to follow a slightly extended version of your typical fermentation schedule — think a month or two for your primary fermentation. After that, get the beast out of your fermenter and into kegs or bottles (assuming of course that your gravity has stopped changing). We do this to avoid tying up the precious resource that is a fermenter, but also to get the beer off any remaining yeast. While we’re not normally worried about the meaty flavors of autolysis, months spent on a bulk of yeast strikes us as a bit “extra.”

Your beer will be ready to drink, for certain values of that notion, as you go to package. Homebrewers tend to hold onto romantic notions of long aging times and while we agree there’s value to it, you’ll only learn how things change when you also try the beer young. So, package, try one, wait a couple weeks and try again. Rinse, repeat, and make it a regular ritual like your dental checkups!

Fixing Problems

No matter what you do, you will probably run into a problem or two as you make a larger beer. Here are our solutions:

Missed My Gravity (Low) 

First, ask yourself if your missed gravity is actually a problem. If you missed low and want to raise it, reach for the sugar we talked about earlier. You can also boil longer if you’re over volume or don’t mind producing less beer. If you’re at the end of boil, just make a sugar syrup and mix it into the still hot wort. If you’re in the fermenter, you might want to ask why is this now a priority?

Missed My Gravity (High)

Most folks would be happy to have this problem! It’s also fairly easy to fix with a small judicious dilution of water. You can calculate this as a straight dilution of 0 sugar points. For example, 5 gallons at 1.100 + 1 gallon of water would be (5 x 100) + (1 x 0) / (5+1) = 0.8333 or 1.083 OG. If you want to dilute later in the process, make sure your water is freshly boiled to avoid contamination.

My Beer Stopped Fermenting

This is probably the big scary one!

Is Your Beer Actually Done Fermenting? It’s not unusual for a beer with a high OG to end up with a high FG. Many mega-monster imperial stouts end up with final gravities near 1.050. Those are outliers, but don’t be surprised if your big malt bomb ends up with an FG in the 1.020–1040 range. (Remember a little extra sugar isn’t terrible — it can hide the extra burn of alcohol!) 

Use a Fast Ferment Test. When you start your fermentation, hold a portion to the side in a flask or growler. Put it on a stir plate or give it a regular swirl and don’t control the temperature on it! After a few days it should be done fermenting. You’ve optimized for fermentation completion, not flavor. The resulting gravity will tell you your rock bottom baseline. A good flavor-oriented ferment will end up a little above the base. If you’re more than 5 points off, then your yeast still has work to do!

Give It A Swirlie. If you still need to ferment a few more points, the right place to start is with a gentle swirl of the beer to rouse the yeast back up. No, this doesn’t always work, but it’s the least invasive way to get it fixed.

Still Not Done? Give it some fresh yeast. Whether from a re-hydrated pack of dried yeast or more yeast slurry from another batch (or brewery). Pitch a fresh dose of yeast and give it that swirl. If you have extra concerns, a little pinch of yeast nutrient may not ensure a further ferment, but it might calm your addled mind. Repeat until either the beer surrenders or you do.

It’s Still Not Done! Well, darn! First things first – give it a taste. Does it taste complete? You may be able to run with it! Consider other options – would dry hopping help cover any sweetness (and maybe re-kick fermentation)? Would a spirit like Bourbon add the additional potency and watering down needed to make the beer pop? Fruit? Spices? Etc.? Ultimately, with this stubborn brew, you’ll need to find some way to make you happy and anything’s fair game.

The Nuclear Option. Brew again. This is really the last resort, but it’s a possibility. Brew a beer to blend in with the recalcitrant biggie. Make something smaller, more hoppy, etc. to punch up the characters of your first beer. This isn’t without precedent — many great British strong ales are blends. But while we remind you that this is a possibility, we’ve both only done it in cases of mortal peril!

There’s your five-minute course in the art of making a big beer. Remember, lots of everything — malt and sugar for fuel, hops for break, yeast to turn your dessert soup into dessert beer, and a mix of patience and perseverance to drag it across the finish line. You’ll also quickly discover that playing with the big bold notes of these beers opens up other possibilities, whether it’s strange techniques like reiterated mashing to pull more malt sugars into the beer or the endless combinations of barrel aging and flavors that brewers are adding to the bold bottles. 

Keep your wits about you and stay calm to steer your big beautiful barleywine from mash tun to snifter glass!

This is a riff on Drew’s classic “Queen’s Diamonds” barleywine that’s slightly updated to modern ingredients and a change in history. Note that the efficiency when working with this much grain is lower than usual.

A hoppy Belgian tripel brewed with Mosaic® hops added at the end of the boil and as dry hops.

This beer was meant to mimic the “local” ingredient of a Dole Whip, a frozen pineapple-laden whipped treat originally found at the Enchanted Tiki Room in Disneyland. Although you can buy the mix and pre-made treats these days in the grocery store, where’s the fun in that? I based this around a Belgian tripel because that’s fun! And the style plays well with tropical characters and spicy, earthy flavors in the fonio. The final beer combined classic tripel ingredients with fonio, lactose (because “whip”), vanilla, and a hefty dose of pineapple puree.

There is a special place in my heart for the Belgian dubbel style. Way back in the last century when I first switched to all-grain brewing, dubbel was the first style I attempted. I had always enjoyed Belgian beers, but they were expensive in the U.S. and sometimes hard to find. I couldn’t get the desired flavor profile or mouthfeel using extract-based products, so I was eager to try building my own recipe. I tried many variations over the years, varying the strength, balance, ingredients, and methods, and entered these in competitions to validate my impressions.

Homebrew has come a long way from those days, and we now have a much wider range of ingredients available to brewers that make this style more achievable. While my original approach still works, I’ve updated my ingredients and methods to more closely match what is used in Belgium. However, I talk about the evolution of my approach because it could be applicable to brewing other styles, and it shows how similar-tasting beers can be made multiple ways. I’ve always wanted to hit the target flavor profile first, but if I could do it in a more authentic way, that’s even better to me.

Multiple pilgrimages to Belgium to sample a wider range of examples gave me the desire to try to incorporate more of the authentic approaches. It also gave me a deeper appreciation of the characteristics that Belgians appreciate the most in their beers (including the obsessive demand that they be served in the proper glass), and helped me understand how examples taste when fresh and as they age. It’s a rare craft style to find in modern times in the U.S., unless visiting a brewery specializing in Belgian-style beers. This by itself makes dubbel a good choice to make at home.

Belgian dubbel is style 26B in the Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP) Style Guidelines, within Category 26, Monastic Ale, along with Belgian single, Belgian tripel, and Belgian dark strong ale. Monastic Ale is a compromise name that includes those traditional beers first produced by Trappist breweries and those abbey and secular breweries inspired by them around the world. Dubbel is usually pronounced the same as the English word “double,” and not like “dooble.” 

History

While darker and stronger beers certainly existed in Belgium for a long time, the dubbel style can be traced back to when Westmalle first made it in 1922 as a double brown ale. Other breweries such as Chimay and St. Bernardus began making similar beers after World War II. American craft breweries learned of it initially through the writings of Michael Jackson, and imports through Merchant du Vin. Early breweries such as New Belgium and Ommegang helped popularize Belgian beers in general in America.

Religious institutions in Belgium often claim a long history with brewing as part of their tradition. However, few survived intact after the societal upheavals of the intervening years. After the French Revolution in 1789, the government disbanded all religious institutions, something that affected Belgium after the French invaded during the Napoleonic Wars. World War I was also devastating to the brewing industry when German invaders appropriated copper brewing equipment to use for making armaments, causing many breweries to shut down or flee. So, few monasteries can claim any kind of continuous brewing tradition.

Many of the monasteries became established (or re-established) after Belgian independence in 1830. For example, famous Trappist monastery Westmalle was raised to abbey status in 1836, and also constructed a brewery in the same year. Initially, they made a dark, sweet table beer just for themselves. This product was first sold in 1861. The brewery shut down during World War I when the monks fled. It re-opened in 1922, which is also when it introduced a 7% double brown beer using unrefined beet sugar, based on the original beer but stronger. This beer has been called Dubbel since 1926.

The name dubbel is said by some to indicate double the ingredients — or strength, or original gravity (OG) — of that original table beer. I’ve never seen a recipe for that beer, so I don’t know if this story has any truth to it. Perhaps if only original gravity is considered, it could be close. This would also make sense with the tripel for the same reason, since the tripel is more attenuated. This also ties into the Belgian notion of classifying beers by original gravity more than strength, which is the origin of the Belgian Brewing Degrees (essentially, whole numbers indicating the OG range — a 6 was for a 1.060-ish beer, an 8 indicated a 1.080-ish beer, etc.). These Brewing Degrees or Gravity Degrees are sometimes seen in the labeling of products, most famously beers from Rochefort (the 6 is their dubbel). It is just an alternate scale of measurement, like degrees Plato, Balling, or Brix.

Other breweries use color systems to mark their products, whether on the label, the cap, or the name of the beer. Chimay Rouge, Red, or Première is their dubbel. Rochefort 6 uses red as the number color. Westvleteren’s example is marked with a blue cap, and is an 8, which is on the strong side. There is no real uniformity in color markings between breweries, but if a number is listed in this manner, it is the Belgian Brewing Degree. 

The name dubbel is not uniformly applied to beers in Belgium since Belgians value originality more than conformity, so you may not always see it on the label from the brewery. While they may or may not believe in styles, many breweries have similar products. Dubbels are usually in the 7% ABV range and are reddish brown in color, so you can check these indicators as well.

The Westmalle Dubbel predates the arguably more famous Westmalle Tripel, which was first made in 1933. However, Westmalle does lay claim to creating the two best known Monastic beer styles, dubbel and tripel, and their products remain the benchmark examples to this day. Their product names are borrowed to describe the beer styles in general, so some care should be taken when understanding whether the style or the example are being discussed.

Sensory Profile

Belgian dubbels are moderately strong (6–7.5% ABV), reddish-copper colored, malt-forward beers with a complex, estery-spicy yeast profile and a dry finish. They share common features of other monastic beers in that they are top-fermenting, have a high degree of attenuation, are bottle-conditioned, and show a fairly aggressive yeast character that accentuates esters and phenols. 

The color, strength, and malt balance distinguish them from other monastic beers. Belgian dark strong ales (or quads) share a similar color but are stronger and often richer. Tripels are stronger, paler, and more bitter. Singles are weaker, paler, and more bitter. Dubbels are similar in strength and balance to Belgian blonds, but are darker with a richer malt flavor and tend to use yeast with a more aggressive profile. Perhaps dubbels have a balance similar to German dunkel bocks, but use a Belgian ale yeast rather than a neutral lager yeast.

Dubbels tend not to be hoppy or overly bitter since the malt and yeast provide sufficient interest to the drinker. While some examples can exceed 7.5%, when versions get above 8% they start getting confused with Belgian dark strong ales. A strong alcohol flavor or warmth is not expected in a dubbel. Some think of dubbels as sweet beers, but they are usually malty and rich, not actually sweet. A dry finish is prized in most Belgian beers (Belgians call these beers more digestible), but the beers can have a malty palate and finish due to lower bitterness levels.

The malt flavor of a dubbel is moderate to moderately strong, and has an impression of richness with flavors of caramel, toast, or occasionally light chocolate, but never roasted or burnt flavors. The moderate fruity esters complement the maltiness, and can be like dark or dried fruits (raisins, plums, cherries), ripe banana, orange, or pome fruit (apple, pear, quince). Spicy, peppery phenols are low to moderate and complement the malt and esters. Hops may add a little spicy, floral, or herbal complexity, but they can also be absent. The bitterness is medium-low to moderate, which helps give a malty finish.

The body is medium to medium-full with medium-high carbonation that can add to the impression of body. Bottle conditioning gives a characteristic creamy sensation with its fine bubbles. The overall balance should be malty to nearly even with bitterness, with a relatively dry finish that leaves a malty aftertaste with yeast complexity.

Brewing Ingredients and Methods

Belgian brewing methods are most appropriate for this style, which includes the selection of ingredients, the use of candi sugars or syrups, infusion mashing, and fermentation regimes that encourage ester development. 

When I first started making Belgian beers, I tended to use English methods since I could see similarities in their approaches. For darker beers, I tended to pick pale ale malt because that is what British brewers would use as an equivalent base. But when I visited Belgian breweries, I found most just using Dingemans Pilsner malt as the base for everything. I think both work, so use a pale Belgian malt, with Pilsner malt being most authentic as the base. Richer base malts help increase the maltiness in darker styles, so I’m thinking Munich-type malts. Personally, I like including some dark Munich malt (like Weyermann Munich II, but other maltsters make similar products) in my beers, as I think the flavor is welcome. 

Early recipes of mine used a variety of additional malts that I was able to source at the time to achieve complexity of malt flavor and color I wanted, including malts such as aromatic, CaraMunich, Special B^®, and chocolate wheat. I would also use the rock-type candi sugar available at the time. However, once the candi syrups became available, I began simplifying my recipes to use these, which is the Belgian approach. Note that some Belgian brewers will add light amounts of dark malt for color adjustment. I know that reddish colors can come from small additions of black malts, but you really don’t want the burnt and roast flavors, so tread lightly.

Belgian brewers tend to use infusion mashes, sometimes with steps, so that is the approach I use as well. I usually convert at lower saccharification temperatures (147–149 °F/64–65 °C) to drive attenuation, which is accentuated by the use of sugars and syrups. I often include dextrin-rich malts to provide some body since I don’t want the beer to be too thin on the palate.

Hops are not a major part of this style, so the choice can vary between hops from Belgium, Germany, or England. Hops that have spicy, floral, or herbal characteristics are most desirable and authentic, as these complement the yeast character.

Yeast strains described as Trappist, abbey, or Belgian high gravity are likely to give a decent ester-phenol profile for this beer. The fermentation temperatures and methods can vary from brewery-to-brewery, so a wide range is possible. Belgian yeast strains often produce different characters under different conditions, so experience with the specific strain you are using helps. For instance, I know several breweries using yeast from Westmalle and Orval, but brewed under different conditions. If you can determine the source of a strain of yeast, getting one associated with one of the Trappist breweries often produces superior results.

Fermenter geometry can vary between breweries, but some Belgians are known to use shallow fermenters, not necessarily like coolships or spontaneous fermentation, just reducing the pressure to encourage ester development while also reducing the temperature increases during fermentation. In my experience, this can lead to differences in results when fermenting at “ambient” temperatures since shallow fermenters do not experience as big a rise in temperature as more narrow ones. Belgians tend to use periods of cool and warm conditioning to allow the yeast character to ripen and develop, while allowing the yeast to clean up some of their fermentation byproducts. 

I tend to use carboys, start cool, and let the temperature free rise during fermentation to drive attenuation. Some strains do not like to be constrained in temperature, and will stop fermenting prematurely. Some yeast strains are stickier than others, and can lead to increased blowoff during fermentation. The Wyeast 3787 (Belgian High Gravity) strain I am most familiar with has both of these characteristics.

Some breweries use spice additions, but I don’t think this style needs it. For example, Rochefort is known to add trace amounts of coriander seed to their beers. However, this character should never really be identifiable as such. If it is, too much was used. I mention it because some people believe the Belgian character comes from spices, when it is actually from the yeast.

Be wary of being told Belgians brew a certain way. I have seen very different methods used at various breweries, often with little attempt at commonality. Belgian brewers embrace individuality, not conformism, and are often skeptical of the notion of styles. It’s OK to be creative and to experiment, but you will be judged by your results.

Homebrew Example

My recipe is inspired by Westmalle, but is not a clone. I’m using the Westmalle yeast and their fermentation and conditioning schedule, but I’m targeting a beer that is a little less bitter than their current formulation (30 IBUs). If the yeast I specify is not available, another fruity-spicy Belgian strain is appropriate. I quite enjoyed the Achouffe yeast (Wyeast 3522 Belgian Ardennes) for its esters, and I think the Rochefort yeast (Wyeast 1762 Belgian Abbey Style Ale II) is another good choice.

My base malt is Pilsner malt from a Belgian maltster like Dingemans or Castle. Don’t use a more heavily-flavored Pilsner malt, like the Weyermann Floor-Malted Bohemian Pilsner Malt or the Weyermann Barke® Pilsner malt – the flavor will be too biscuity or toasty. I use Weyermann Munich II for the dark Munich malt, which is an important driver of the malt flavor. I use any German Munich malt (Weyermann, Best, Durst, etc.) for the light Munich malt, but Belgian maltsters such as Dingemans will be more authentic, if they are available to you.

I use candi syrups for the fruity and caramelly flavors, with a mix of amber and dark specified. Don’t use the extra dark (D-180 or higher) syrups, as I find these more appropriate for Belgian dark strong ales. If you have a choice in suppliers, look for something in the 45 SRM and 90 SRM ranges for the amber and dark varieties. In darker Belgian beers, I don’t use intensive step mashing programs, but infusion mashing at the lower end of the saccharification range is appropriate to get the proper attenuation.  

In a malty style, the hops take on a supporting role. I’m fond of the combination of Styrian Goldings and Saaz, so that’s what I’m using. Other noble-type hops would work as well, but I would avoid anything with a modern American or New World character. The balance should be malty, with a very light late-hop note.

I hope you enjoy this style as much as I do. Just don’t serve it in the wrong glass. . . 

Belgian Dubbel by the Numbers

OG: 1.062–1.075
FG: 1.008–1.018
SRM: 10–17
IBU: 15–25
ABV: 6–7.6%