Microbrewed Adventures Page 15
½ oz.: borage
½ oz.: peppermint
½ oz.: marjoram
1 oz.: southernwood (type of wormwood)
1 oz.: rue
1 oz.: horehound
1 oz.: winter savory
1 oz.: hyssop
1 oz.: mint
1 oz.: wormwood [this herb is toxic and not recommended]
1 oz.: pennyroyal
6 oz.: tansy
?: comfrey
?: agrimony
3: bottles of rose hip syrup
The castle remains a sentry on the shores of Loch Fyne, in county Argyll. Marion and Reinold Gayre keep busy with the upkeep of the castle and attending to the six or seven self-catering cottages on the castle grounds. They rent these cottages by the week to vacationers. Theirs is a long and busy day, spent attending to dry rot, leaking roofs, water-damaged floors, dusting, plumbing and window cleaning. Castle upkeep isn’t a normal housekeeping job. But a visitor like myself, in awe of antiquity and in search of lost meads, can’t help but admire the Gayre family’s dedication to traditions.
I emerged from within the castle walls a bit wiser in the ways of mead. Tucked away in my hand-held luggage was one gift of a 1947 sack metheglin. It is now over 58 years old. So am I. In the meantime I continue to make my own meads. I believe they will improve because of that intangible knowledge one acquires from such a journey.
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CASTLE METHEGLIN
This is unlike any other mead you have ever made or tasted. If properly cared for, it will age well for 100 years. The gruit of herbs provides a unique blend, taking on the character of the combined ingredients. Individual herbal flavors will briefly emerge when tasting, yet it is the artful blend of these herbs that creates this most majestic of metheglin meads. Patience is a virtue surely rewarded with the eventual emergence of this golden elixir. The recipe can be found in About the Recipes.
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I often think of Colonel Gayre as I make my annual melage of meads. I also take heart in knowing that thousands of home mead makers throughout the world are now wiser and more aware of how the traditions of mead have contributed to our culture.
Dear Colonel, wherever you may be, know ye that a friend of mead is a friend indeed.
I REVISITED the castle with Sandra in 2003. Marion had sadly and quite suddenly died earlier that year. Reinold has since remarried and continues with the upkeep of Minard Castle. At the time of our visit, the closet of mead was still in good order. Having tried a bottle of 55-year-old brochet, I continue to admire the quality of what Lieutenant Colonel Gayre created.
CHAPTER 7
Beer Heaven Is in Germany
IN THE MINDS of the world’s beer drinkers, Germany is the center of the beer universe. Its reputation for upholding the 1516 Beer Purity Law, the Reinheitsgebot, serves as reassurance to all German beer drinkers that purity and quality will reside in every liter of beer brewed and enjoyed in Deutschland.
While the flavor and diversity of beer styles is limited in Germany, the pilseners, wheat beers, Altbiers, Kölschs, bocks and Bavarian light and dark styles are brewed with artisanal pride. Sadly in the last decade, the globalization of beer brands and economic pressures has stressed the fragile infrastructure of German small brewers. Their numbers have dwindled. The pressure to conform to the low taste profile of mass-marketed beers has resulted in the diminished complexity and flavor of many famous German beers from breweries both large and small.
German beer culture has not escaped the very real economic challenges of the early 21st century. Recently there has a been a small rebound in appreciation for passionately brewed German beer made by small brewers, but the struggle for survival continues and the German beer culture flirts precariously close to collapse. Two things may save what I have come to love about German beer: (1) Brewers will maintain their traditional standards and not compromise nor diminish the flavor and complexity of their beers, and (2) beer drinkers may learn that they must pay a small premium for beers whose character is above the trend toward less taste in beer.
My first tour of duty with the beers and brewers of Germany was in 1989. That year may have been the peak of modern German beer culture. The threats of globalizing beer brands had not yet aggressively appeared in Germany. Everywhere I went there was a sense of continuing celebration and a brewer’s pride. The anxieties for the future had not yet made their presence. Small countryside breweries created unique versions of classic styles of German lagers and ales, each having their own “house” aromas and flavors. It was a wonderful time to be traveling in search of the beers and brewers of Germany. Those times provided my valued first impression, which has consequently inspired me to champion the passion of the microbrewer and preserve the flavor and diversity of real German beer.
The Monastery at Andechs
SUMMER IN BAVARIA isn’t all sunny skies. In fact, when I was there in July 1989 it was cool, rainy and gray. I was making a pilgrimage to Andechs Monastery, Brewery and Beer House, west of Munich, easily accessible by the S-bahn train.
From the train station it is about a three-mile, thirst-provoking walk through the forest to the top of the hill where the monastery peacefully overlooks the valley. The monks brew a variety of beers for which they are famous and I was seeking the one they were most famous for, Andechs bock beer.
I was quite surprised to see the day’s chalkboard drink menu absent of my heart’s desire. What perplexed me even more was the listing of two other drinks that were completely foreign to me, “Radler” and “Diesel.” I was beginning to feel disillusioned and quite disappointed.
I had seen these drinks listed in other parts of Germany but really didn’t pay them attention. Now I was annoyed. I drooled at the thought of downing a liter of their famous fresh, microbrewed dark Andechs bock beer but it was not served on the weekend. In the absence of bock beer my choice was limited to Andechs Helles. But what were these intrusions called Radler and Diesel? I was in the land of beer heaven. I was in Germany! They make beer here with only malt, hops, water and yeast. My thoughts were preoccupied with the question, “What is this other stuff?”
To my astonishment, I learned that Germans often mix lemonade with their beer and call it a Radler. Diesel was a popular half-beer, half-cola beverage also enjoyed by Germans. For me it seemed a best-kept secret that was best kept a secret! They say it’s “not bad.” But there is no way in beer heaven nor any other part of Planet Beer I will be mixing lemonade or cola with my beer. If word ever got out that Germans add lemonade and cola to their beer, there would be millions of disillusioned beer drinkers throughout the beer-loving world.
Restricted to their Helles lager, I nevertheless enjoyed the experience immensely. But what had happened to the bock beer? The problem, it turned out, was that recently the monks had decided to limit the weekend tourist crowds to their less potent Helles, as they’ve had problems with drunks who could not handle their higher-strength beers. So if you visit the monastery, go on a weekday (and note that the beer house is closed on Tuesdays).
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ANDECH’S WEEKDAY BOCK
In the pure tradition of an all-malt German lager, this bock beer is an excellent rendition of the style: malty, with a balance of piquant German-grown hop flavor, aroma and pleasantly soft bitterness. American Crystal hops offer equal character, providing artisanal nuances. This beer is fresh-tasting and immensely drinkable. Even at 7 percent alcohol this bock beer would be served on weekdays at Andechs, but anytime is fine with me. This recipe can be found in About the Recipes.
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German Rye Beer
Thurn und Taxis
IN 1988, while vacationing and trekking through the jungles of Thailand, I was cooling my thirst one evening in a mountain cave not far from the Burmese border. The beer was Singha, the most popular Thai beer at the time. We were sitting around a fire when a German traveler seated across from me agreed that Singha was “an all right beer.” He continued about the many good
beers in his country, “…but if you are ever interested in an unusual beer you must go to Regensburg. There is a brewery called Thurn und Taxis. It is in nearby Schierling and they make a rye beer.”
Six months after sharing a beer in a jungle cave, I found myself leaving the Miesbach train station at 10:25 A.M., headed for Regensburg.
Only about three hours north of Munich, Regensburg is steeped in malt and history. It’s the birthplace of Martin Luther. Regensburg’s population is about 100,000, and it has more than 100 churches and four breweries. Many years ago there were more than 40 breweries. The 20th century had a detrimental effect on this town’s beer culture.
When I visited, three of the breweries were “public” only Thurn und Taxis was privately owned. The public breweries were incorporated in such a way that their profits went to charitable foundations. The Bischof’s Brauerei profits went to priests. The Spital Brauerei profits went to a hospital for the aged, and the Knietinger Brauerei, at the time, was a private, family-owned brewery, willed to benefit orphans and children whose parents were unable to care for them.
Lunchtime in Regensburg was a quest fulfilled. I finally drank a very tall, specially endorsed glass of Thurn und Taxis Roggenbier (rye beer). Dark and yeasty, the beer’s character is remarkably similar to that of Bavarian Weizenbiers. It has a clovelike essence and is slightly higher in refreshing sour acidity. I didn’t care for it given my own taste preference, which doesn’t favor clove, or banana flavor in beer. However, I did admire the quality of the beer and the care with which Thurn und Taxis developed it, and I was impressed with the enjoyment so many others found in this beer. I was surely in the minority when it came to this beer preference.
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PUMPERNICKEL RYE STOUT
There are plenty of recipes for German-style Roggenbier, brewed with pale barley and rye malt with the addition of a measured small amount of roasted barley malt. It is fermented with German wheat beer yeast to create the banana–clove character that helps define this style. Pumpernickel Rye Stout is not your typical Roggenbier; rather it is an American invention of mine. Brewed with the ingredients of classic pumpernickel, this brew is smooth, with the added spiciness of rye malt. The recipe can be found in About the Recipes.
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Malted rye presents some unique problems for the brewer. It is very gummy when mashed and is notorious for what is called “set” mashes and runoffs. The grain mash becomes so sticky that liquid flows through with great difficulty. The brewery evidently developed a special process to deal with these problems.
The beer is more than 50 percent rye malt and is darkened with roasted malt. According to the brewery, in olden times rye was valued as a grain with high nutritional value. Five hundred years ago it was forbidden in Germany to brew beer with rye; the grain was reserved strictly for breads. Now, with an abundance of rye, Thurn und Taxis brings back the tradition of brewing with rye.
German Brown Ale
Düsseldorf, the Altstadt. Altbier
MY PILGRIMAGE TO beer heaven—Germany—lasted 18 days. On the Fourth of July, I found myself in Düsseldorf in search of Altbier. Without a map or guide, I easily managed to stumble upon Düsseldorf’s Altstadt (old city) and four Altbier microbreweries. There were also countless other brands brewed by larger companies in the region. The old beers of Germany, I discovered that evening, were uniquely top-fermented light brown ales, rather dry, with no hop aroma or flavor and often awash with intense hop bitterness.
I began my tasting in the early evening, and by 1 A.M. I was an expert. After tasting a dozen different Altbiers (more than once) at seven (or was it eight?) beer halls, I determined that the crazy old man was my favorite. I ended my evening pilgrimizing Zum Uerige Alt (Uerige means crazy old man). Dark, dry and clean, with very little fruitiness (I detected the tiniest hint of apple flavor), no roasted malt flavor and a dense, creamy head, its bitterness quickly asserted itself and lingered provocatively on my palate. It was delectable but not obtrusive. Skillfully designed by the brewer, the beer’s bitterness resided only on the back of my tongue, not throughout my mouth. I learned later that Zum Uerige is one of the most exciting and pleasantly bitter examples of the Altbier style.
I indulged in several other Altbiers with pleasure. Rhenania Alt was very fruity, with the aroma of apples. Zum Schluessel’s Gatzweiler Alt had a slight banana character and the flavor of hops. Schumacher Alt was characterized by old hops and applelike fruitiness. Im Fuechsen was by far the most bitter of all the Altbiers I tried; it also had a slight coconut-like flavor and an aroma of hops. The bitterness was a bit intense for my mood at the time.
Zum Uerige Bier Haus, Altstadt, Düsseldorf
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CRAZY OLD MAN ALTBIER
Fresh Crazy Old Man Altbier, better known as Zum Uerige Alt, is an experience worth seeking if you are in Düsseldorf. The next best thing to being there is to brew it yourself and enjoy the freshness of a traditional centuries-old style of German brown ale right where you live. Smooth and refreshingly bitter, this beer will zap and excite your palate. The recipe can be found in About the Recipes.
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Altbier was the most popular style of beer in the city of Düsseldorf, where it has maintained a tradition for centuries. That evening I delightfully lived my own 19th century. These Altbiers were certainly the most popular styles of the evening. Altbier is difficult to find in other parts of Germany, though bottled versions are sometimes available. A growing number of American and Japanese microbreweries are making true-to-style German Altbier. The Widmer Brothers Brewing Company in Portland, Oregon, was one of the first microbreweries to popularize this style in the United States. Their version is delicious and true to style, yet not quite as bitter as my favorite, Zum Uerige Alt.
Weissbier in Bavaria
Hopfweissbier Brauerei
AT 10 A.M. in Bavaria you are likely to find yourself in the company of others enjoying the traditional late breakfast of Weissbier (wheat beer) and Weisswurst (white sausage of veal). It’s a treat any time of day, but uniquely Bavarian when enjoyed before noon.
Whichever you call it, Weizenbier or Weissbier, wheat beer is spectacularly popular in Bavaria. In 1984 this slightly acidic, yeasty, well-carbonated style of beer with its hint of clove and banana flavor accounted for less than 1 percent of German beer drinking. By 1989 it was the second most popular style of beer in Bavaria (pils is first), with a 28 percent share of the beer market. In 2004 its share was 33 percent, and it continues to grow. Bavarians love their Weizenbier, and they like it mit Hefe (with yeast).
I had the privilege and great pleasure of spending several days with Hans Hopf and his family in Miesbach, 30 miles south of Munich in the foothills of the Alps. The relatively small Hopfweissbier Brauerei has been in the Hopf family for three generations and continues to slowly grow to meet the demand for wheat beer. It is unique in that it is one of only a few breweries in Germany that brews exclusively wheat beer.
A morning in the brewery and some enjoyable evenings at local beer gardens gave insight into the German wheat beer phenomenon. Hans explained, “I have problems sometimes with my cask wheat beer because the yeast settles too well and the beer comes out too clear. People prefer yeast in their wheat beer. I tell the managers to roll the kegs a little, but that does not seem to help.” I was astonished to learn that some beer gardens and beer houses offered yeast dispensers, designed like mustard dispensers. “People will put the yeast in their other beers as well. It is a healthy thing to do because of all the vitamins in the beer yeast.”
If you are a brewer and are thinking of culturing yeast sediment from the bottom of a bottle of German wheat beer, though, you’d better think twice. Yes, the yeast sediment is alive and naturally carbonates the beer in the bottle, just as in homebrewed beer. The fact is that most wheat beers are filtered before bottling in order to remove the “powdery” top-fermenting yeast that does not settle to the bottom very well. Wheat beer is then inoculated with a more
easily sedimented strain of lager yeast and held at relatively warm temperatures to naturally carbonate in the bottle. While touring the brewery, Hans explained that using a different “bottle yeast” really affects the flavor of the beer significantly—and for his beer it made a positive difference.
Hans Hopf
Bianca Hopf
In the room beneath the kettle it was very warm. It was there Hans had me sample a small batch of fermenting wort. It was so sour my mouth puckered. “That is 1 percent lactic acidity,” he explained. Because of the natural carbonate hardness of the local water, Hans had been experimenting with naturally acidifying his mashing regime and wort production. High carbonate levels in water will produce pH ranges that prevent the desired extraction of sugars from grains during the mashing process. By fermenting a portion of naturally produced wort with a strain of lactobacillus bacteria, Hans is able to add a portion of soured extract and obtain a better yield from his grains. By adding a portion of soured wort to his main wort during wort boiling, he found he could also control the flavor balance of his Weissbiers and get better flavors out of the hops he uses.
Because of tradition and Germany’s beer purity law, the Reinheitsgebot, German brewers cannot use industrially made acids to adjust the pH of their mash or wort. Much of Germany’s water has been contaminated with man-made nitrates from fertilizers used in agriculture. The water is unfit for brewing, so almost every brewery I visited filtered and purified its water or used deep well water (which often had high carbonate levels).