Beltway Beer

Now THIS is a beer. It’s brewed by Weltenburger Abbey, a Benedictine monastery in Bavaria, Germany. Classed as a dunkel, the German word for dark, these are known to be smooth, malty brews.

Pours a dark amber with ruby red hightlights and ample, tannish bubbly head. Nose is all big, biscuity malts — hard to detect much else. It really goes down smooth, with a slick, soft mouthfeel that makes it very drinkable. For all its aggressive aroma, though, it’s actually quite tame in the best way. Malts up front with a very slight hop taste on the finish. For its deep amber color, it’s actually very light and refreshing, extremely sessionable. Not as in-your-face malty as something like Spaten Optimator (which, by the way, is one of my favorite beers at the moment). This has a very delicate sweetness that is extremely satisfying. I’d say this is an excellent “training wheel” beer, to introduce people who are curious about craft brews to some more robust and complex flavors without scaring them off.

While I’m on the topic, here’s an interesting article about how aging monks at monasteries that sell well-known beers (like Westmalle) are increasingly taking a back seat as they grow long in the tooth. Link here.

Relentless Thirst has an interesting interview with the beer sommelier/export director of Weissbraueri Schneider, discussing some of the push-pull between innovation and attempting to stay within the bounds of the Rheinheitsgebot, the German beer purity law. Link here.

From a posting to Zagat’s newsletter:

“Hopsheads should get ready to take their passion to new heights when
Birch & Barley, a brew-centric New American restaurant, and ChurchKey,
its massive second-floor beer bar, open in the next two weeks on a
trendy stretch of 14th Street NW above Logan Circle. Manning the
stoves will be Kyle Bailey (ex NY’s Blue Hill at Stone Barns and Cru),
who will be crafting seasonal, brew-inspired fare downstairs and
artisanal bar food (hushpuppies, flatbreads) upstairs. Beer director
Greg Engert (pictured) says his mission is to serve the libation as it
was intended to be tasted (via correct temperatures and proper
glassware), and he’s sourced some 555 selections from around the
world, including 50 draft brews and five hand-pumped, cask-conditioned
ales.

Within the handsome earth-toned space, expect oil lamps flickering off
exposed brick and aged wood walls, beer fixtures used as decor and a
lounge upstairs with huge windows looking out on 14th Street (1337
14th St. NW; 202-567-2576).”

Over the past couple days, I’ve cracked open a few more of my Oktos: Paulaner, Penn Brewing and Hacker-Pschorr. I’ll take them in that order. But first, a little trivia about Oktoberfest. The first Oktoberfest was held in Munich, on Oct. 18, 1810, to commemorate the marriage of Bavaria’s Crown Prince Ludwig and Princess Therese. Only breweries located inside Munich are allowed to sponsor a “beer tent” inside the Oktoberfest grounds; this includes Spaten, Lowenbrau, Augustiner, Hofbrau, Paulaner and Hacker-Pschorr.

Paulaner

Paulaner pours a lovely light amber-color, almost an orange-blossom. Finally, a beer that actually looks like an Oktoberfest! The head is creamy and soapy and fades quickly to a thin cap. The aroma is fairly subdued although you can pick up some sweet spices and earthy undertones. But let’s get down to business. Of all the Oktoberfests I’ve had so far, this one is the most thirst-quenching. It has a very “slick” and creamy feel that makes it awfully easy to put away, despite the fact that it’s 5.8% ABV. It tastes faintly of caramel and a light hop biterness; the alcohol isn’t very well disguised and occasionally comes through as sharp unfortunately. Not very complex, but highly, highly drinkable, and ultimately that’s what you want in a sweaty bier tent.

Penn Brewery

Penn’s Oktoberfest pours a medium-amber, almost a tan really, on the darker side of most Oktoberfest brews, but the orange highlights are definitely there. Very light carbonation produces a soapy, cream-colored head that practically vanishes as soon as it’s poured. It’s almost like an afterthought. This beer smells great, though — I mean great, like toasted caramel, maybe even toffee notes, with a bready, biscuity yeast smell. But for as great as it smells, the taste was really disappointing. It’s slightly sour, maybe a hint of bubble gum, and a really offputting soapy/astringent aftertaste. I can’t think of any other way to describe it. The soapy mineral taste fades somewhat as the beer warms, but not enough to save it. Finishes very dry. It’s a shame because this is one of the more complex Oktoberfests I’ve had so far this year, the execution just wasn’t there I suppose.

Hacker-Pschorr

That brings me to Hacker-Pschorr, which now takes the lead for my favorite Oktoberfest in 2009. It pours a really, really pretty, brilliant copper-amber, with very light carbonation, and a soapy off-white head that fades quickly to a cap, like most of the style. The nose is very subtle, some bready yeast and maybe a slight malty sweetness laced with a nutty aroma, but really very subdued. Holy crap, though, it tastes great. Huge malt flavor up front, balanced with a slight resiny hop bitterness on the finish. It’s light-bodied, without being thin, with a very nice, creamy texture that makes it extremely drinkable. Two thumbs up for Hacker-Pschorr this year.

Montana loosens its 70-year-old law on beer sales: here

Munich Oktoberfest has record levels of drinking and alcohol poisoning: (oops)

Florida man breaks into a store to steal beer: here

Full disclosure: Weihenstephaner, which bills itself as “the world’s oldest brewery,” makes one of my very favorite hefeweisses that exist on this planet, so I’m going to try to be objective with this one. Their version of an Oktoberfest pours a light gold-straw color that produces a fair amount of bone white head, which dissipates extremely quickly. This beer looks clean and clear, but not the traditional orange-amber that you associate with Oktoberfest beers. The lacing is thin, light to medium carbonation. I immediately smell aromas typically associated with hefes — slight whiff of bananas, cloves, spice. This is an extremely drinkable beer, with a slightly toasty astringent hop aggressiveness up front that fades smoothly. This beer does not taste like a 5.8% ABV, which could spell trouble on pretty much any night for me. The malt taste here is very subdued, hops up front; almost more like a pilsner or even Helles-style beer than an Oktoberfest. Still a very good, refreshing beer, just doesn’t fall easily for me into the Oktoberfest category.

The New York Times reviews a German restaurant in Bethel, N.Y. which, incidentally, serves Schlenkerla rauchbier, mentioned in my first entry.

This seems like a decent time to run down the Oktoberfests currently crowding my refrigerator:

• Ayinger Oktober Fest-Marzen
  Hacker-Pschorr Oktoberfest-Marzen
  Hofbrau Munchen
  Paulaner Oktoberfest-Marzen
  Penn Oktoberfest
  Spaten Oktoberfestbier Ur-Marzen
  Weihenstephaner Festbier

I haven’t sampled all of them yet, and I’ll likely be adding more (probably at least Victory and maybe Stoudt’s and Bell’s if I can find them). But so far my unofficial (and possibly temporary) favorite is Hofbrau, which does not at all look like an Oktoberfest should; it’s almost a light straw color, rather than the traditional orange-amber color usually associated with Oktoberfests. The folks at BeerAdvocate seem to think it tastes more like a Helles lager, which I usually like a lot. That might explain my initial high grade for the beer.

For a long time, I’ve thought about starting a beer blog.  After much procrastination, it’s finally here — spurred in part by the new Oktoberfest releases, and an embarrassingly expensive trip to Chevy Chase Wine and Spirits here in Washington, D.C., which has a tremendous selection.

One of the beers I returned with was an interesting-looking bottle of “Schlenkerla Helles Lagerbier” by a brewery in Bamburg called Schlenkerla.  I knew nothing about the beer or its brewery, but was attracted by the very German-looking Gothic script on the label, and because I generally enjoy Helles-style beers.  It poured a brilliantly clear straw-amber color with lively carbonation and a soft, bone white head that quickly receded.  But I got a surprise when I took my first sip:  my tasting notes say “bacon?”  It was a subtle, back-of-the-tongue flavor, but it was there just the same.  Not at all detectable in the aroma.

I got curious and went to look up the beer and the brewery, and it turns out that Schlenkerla is a historic brewpub famous for its rauchbiers (“smoke” beers).  The Helles Lagerbier isn’t a rauchbier, but some of them have a lingering smoke profile because it’s fermented in the same kettles (and with the same yeast) as the brewery uses for its rauchbiers.

Overall a nice, crisp, drinkable Helles, although I found the slight smoke taste a little offputting.