Though the holidays may be long gone, many of us are still reaping the benefits of our holiday gifts. And what does a person such as I ask for during the holidays? Beer. New and exciting beer, made even more delicious because I didn’t have to pay for it.

Among my holiday haul was a mysterious blue bottle labeled Wittekerke Winter White from Brouwerij Bavik in Bavikhove, Belgium. As one should not rush into a fine Belgian ale, I waited for the right chance to sample it — a chance that materialized during a roommate movie night featuring the classic dark comedy “In Bruges.” A Belgian beer for a movie set in Belgium seemed only too appropriate.

Being a wheat beer, Wittekerke poured into a tulip glass with a pleasing, cloudy golden hue. Given time to settle, it retained its haze, showing shades of light orange when held up to a light. Typical of Belgian wheat beers, the head rose to a solid inch and a half before gradually settling down to about the width of a finger. Due to the higher protein contents of wheat beers, their heads are often stronger and stick around longer than beers brewed with only barley.

As Colin Farrell delivered joyfully F-bomb-filled rants on the screen, I tested the beer’s aroma. The nose revealed a strong sweetness that, given that Wittekerke is 7.5 percent alcohol by volume (fairly low for a Belgian beer), took me by surprise. Usually just the boozier Belgians have this level of sweetness in the aroma. Also present was a healthy dose of orange peel citrus and maybe even a bit of cinnamon. To draw a comparison, it smelled like a subtler version of Sam Adams’ Summer Ale.

Wittekerke was kind to the eye and the nose, and it was equally pleasant to the palate. The alcoholic sweetness that came through in the beer’s aroma was far gentler in its taste. Much like Ralph Fiennes’ brilliant but short-lived performance in “In Bruges,” the sweetness brought the best out of the other ingredients without overshadowing them.

Set against the background of mild alcohol and subtle sweetness, the hardy wheat flavor came to the forefront, bringing the citrus with it. Unlike so many other Belgian wheat beers that I’ve had, Wittekerke’s flavor vanished quickly, leaving no real trace on the palate. It was a clean taste that made me appreciate its relative simplicity.

Wittekerke is a versatile beer. A go-anywhere, do-anything Belgian ale that, in the nation’s ancient and complex beer canon, is a rare thing. While it was far from the best Belgian wheat beer I’ve ever had, it provided a pleasant drinking experience — one that I hope to relive if I can get my hands on the elusive brew again before the season is over.