2009 - 2016

The thermostat disaster and the recovery.

On Saturday morning, the 16th of May, 2009, Armand opens the door of the storage room. A heatwave literally blows him backwards. Fearing the worst, he storms into the warm room.

This space, which was full of fermenting and conditioning bottles, normally stayed at a constant temperature of 18°C (64°F), kept in check by a thermostat. Due to a malfunction, though, temperatures had now risen to 60°C (140°F). At that moment, 13.000 bottles had already exploded from the rising pressure. The hall had turned into a war zone where Armand could still hear one bottle explode after the other.

Nailed to the ground in shock, the only thought he could muster was “We’re bankrupt”. The warm room contained a year’s supply in sellable stock, which also meant a yearly revenue. This is where Armand’s then fiancée entered the story. Together with a handful of enthusiasts, she helped Armand and the brewery to get back on their feet. Friendly brewers helped along by postponing due payments for 3 Fonteinen and there even was one American brewer who donated a part of the proceeds of a special brew. (source)

The hall had turned into a war zone where Armand still heard bottles explode, one after the other. Nailed to the ground in shock, the only thought he could muster was “We’re bankrupt”.


On Saturday morning, the 16th of May, 2009, Armand opens the door of the storage room. A heatwave literally blows him backwards. Fearing the worst, he storms into the warm room. This space, which was full of fermenting and conditioning bottles, normally stayed at a constant temperature of 18°C (64°F), kept in check by a thermostat. Due to a malfunction, though, temperatures had now risen to 60°C (140°F). At that moment, 13.000 bottles had already exploded from the rising pressure. The hall had turned into a war zone where Armand could still hear one bottle explode after the other.

A pile of broken and intact green glass bottles lies on the ground next to crates and a wheelbarrow in an industrial area.The heat accumulation in the warm room due to a faulty thermostat caused many bottles to explode.

At the time, Armand was taking a course in distillery techniques and his teacher went along with a wacky idea: to distill the geuze. After a few tests, the experiment actually seemed to work. The beer had oxidized, but the aroma was still nicely in place and it delivered a tasty distillate. Two weekends after the disaster, a hundred or so volunteers helped to empty 65.000 bottles of geuze to serve as the basis for Armand’Spirit, a fine eau de vie with geuze character, distilled by the Distillerie de Biercée.

Armand also still had some of his own brewed lambic on oak barrels, which he intended to blend into future geuzes. A few American friends inspired him to turn those 3 Fonteinen brews into something special. The unique series of four blends would go down in history as the Armand’4 series: Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. The geuzes were beautifully bottled and the sales exceeded his wildest dreams.

By 2011, Armand had sold his brewing installation and had injected a big part of his own private funds into the business. The support of friends, family and fans, coupled with the sale of Armand’Spirit and Armand’4: altogether, they generated just enough cash flow to make Brouwerij 3 Fonteinen barely survive. There was only one target now—to keep on going.


Person filling a ceramic jug with liquid from a large wooden barrel, wearing a dark jacket, in a setting with white brick walls.Michaël 'Mich' Blancquaert taps some fresh lambic from the barrel.

With his head barely above the water, but more motivated than ever, Armand sought the assistance of a new production assistant. In Michaël Blancquaert, then 26, he saw a younger version of himself: driven by the craft, inspired by tradition and eager to learn. Somebody with a fine nose as well, for whom only quality could be the criterium.

In Michaël, Armand saw a younger version of himself: driven by the craft, inspired by tradition and eager to learn. Somebody for whom only quality could be the criterium.

It wouldn’t be long before Armand and Mich expressed a mutual desire to start brewing again. In 2012 they set up a small brewing installation, custom-made for the well-known location in the Hoogstraat, with a coolship capacity of 3,000 litres. And so, they were launched again. But the spread of activities remained an issue. With no fewer than four different addresses, the transport of lambic and finished bottles between the different locations had become a logistical nightmare. Practicalities cost the company 200 man-days per year. The plan ripened to centralise all activities except for the brewing itself.


Interior of a brewery with large metal tanks, pipes, and equipment. Two people stand near the entrance, illuminated by natural light.A still life from the Beersel brewery (© Matthew 'Fuj' Scher).

On a sunny Saturday morning in 2013, Michaël and Armand were talking to some insiders about their dreams for the future. That's when Werner Van Obberghen walked into the shop to buy his crate of geuze. Eleven years before, he had written his thesis on the problems of the small artisanal geuze blenders and he already knew Michaël from a brewing course. Although they were no strangers to each other, he felt honoured when Armand called him into the back room to explain his ideas.

Werner spontaneously proposed to voluntarily write a business plan for the next step. Armand had never been interested in numbers—except for the amount of litres in the barrels that he had to report for excise purposes. At that moment, Brouwerij 3 Fonteinen was still bleeding money, which it had been since the beginning of its existence, by the way. Every year, Armand put his own money into its operations. The challenge at hand: make a beautiful venture financially healthy, write and plan a future vision and convince the banks. In the end, the slowest of all beer crafts needed to be aligned with a financial perspective.

In the end, the slowest of all beer crafts needed to be aligned with a financial perspective. It was quite the challenge.

Michaël and Werner put all their subsequent Saturdays and Sundays into the effort. It is during these long sessions that the two became friends and laid the foundation for the succession that Armand Debelder had been dreaming of. When he saw them together, toiling away behind the laptop in the small kitchen in the back of the shop in Beersel, he casually dropped the words: “I like what I see happening now.” It was a phrase that would cling to Armand’s new associates forever.


Armand Debelder standing proudly between Michaël Blancquaert and Werner Van Obberghen in the barrel room, smiling at the camera.Werner, Armand and Michaël.