When I read about the new rules on alcohol advertising, one sentence stayed with me: alcohol is harmful to health. From now on, that warning must appear clearly in advertising for alcoholic drinks. Visible, legible, and large enough not to be hidden away in a corner.
Of course, this touches a brewery. Not only its posters or its communication, but the craft itself. It touches the glass, the café, the terrace table, and the way people gather around a drink.
This should not be treated lightly. Alcohol misuse exists. It damages lives. A brewer who denies that does not understand his own trade. But a glass of beer brewed with care also asks for care when it is drunk.
Belgium has known this tension for a long time. In 1919 came the Vandervelde law. It was aimed above all at spirits, jenever, public drunkenness, poverty, and families damaged by alcohol. Beer then stood in another category: a fermented drink, tied to cafés, meals, villages, work, and rest. Not harmless, but not quite the same thing either.
Today, that nuance seems to be narrowing. The older phrase still spoke of craftsmanship and judgement. Then came misuse. Now the language turns mainly to danger and health.
In the outbuilding of the Château de Durbuy, that feels close. We brew without excuse, but also without carelessness. We brew beer that knows its place: at the table, in company, in moderation.
Perhaps that is what a small brewery can still defend. Not the right to drink without thought, but the right to make distinctions. Between pleasure and excess. Between warning and frightening. Between alcohol as a problem and beer as culture.
A beer brewed with attention, precision, and craft is also a tribute to the place it comes from. The warning can stand on paper. The awareness must live in the work.
Enjoy your drink, whether it is one of ours or someone else’s. But always in moderation.