It's Daytime in Berlin. Where to Get a Decent Beer?

Let's not make a big thing of this, but Berlin is not really a proper beer city. It's a cocktail city. An all-night, fancy-drinks, then-go-out-clubbing cocktail city.

Yet... this is still the capital of Germany, which happens to be one of the all-time great brewing and beer-drinking countries. So it's a paradox. Meanwhile the city is big enough and lively and versatile enough -- as I've written elsewhere, not easily pigeonholed -- to offer pretty much whatever you want, if you know where (and when) to find it.

Weber

Here is something relatively hard to find in Berlin: Good beer spots that are open in the daytime. By daytime, I mean before 4 or 5 p..m. This ain't Bavaria or Belgium, where it's acceptable to drink a beer with lunch or as part of a leisurely afternoon (or even morning sometimes). For the most part, it's a night-drinking city. Yes it's still Germany, so beer is a staple food. But if we judge these things by opening hours, public day-drinking in Berlin is not all that common. It may be because people are sleeping off hangovers, or else they are, you know, at jobs.

(Prussian virtues? Maybe. Incidentally Max Weber, the political theorist who coined "Protestant ethic," was Prussian. It is sensible to suggest that people should not be drinking in the daytime, because they should be working. This sensibility is unhelpful to tourists.)

In my view, day-drinking is not supposed to be a regular thing. If it were, it would be much less enjoyable. I like it a bit naughty, rather than pedestrian. So, there are times when it's fun and/or useful to find a place where you can do it.

For example: If you are writing a magazine article and need to find a certain type of beer... but you also need to be home to meet the kids' school bus in the afternoon. Hypothetically, of course.

Better example: You're a tourist in central Berlin, on a hard-earned vacation, and can't think of any reason why you shouldn't put on a good beer-buzz during daylight hours.

Just to back up my point, here are the opening times of many of the top beer spots in Berlin these days: Birra, 6 p.m.; Foersters, 4 p.m.; Herman, 6 p.m.; Hopfenreich, 4 p.m.; Monterey Bar, 5 p.m.; Muted Horn, 5 p.m. (3 p.m. weekends).

Right, so I like to be useful. With no further ado, here is an easy crawl -- the North Mitte Mile, let's say -- that might be handy after the museum, or after sleeping in, or while hunting street food, or whatever else it is you like to do while on holiday.

Kaschk

Kaschk: At the Rose-Luxembourg-Platz U-Bahn, less than 10 minutes walk north of Alexanderplatz. This one opens first (8 a.m., or 10 a.m. weekends) so we can start here. Excellent coffee, to say nothing of 10 changing taps and an interesting bottle selection. The beers lean Nordic; it's typical to find To Øl (whoops sorry, that's Belgian) here, besides several locals. They usually have Schönramer Pils, a personal favorite of mine. Daytime also happens to be the easiest, quietest time to use the shuffleboard tables downstairs (when one costs €9/hour instead of double that).

Brewdog: Opens at noon, and serves good from-scratch pizzas. Those who want to eschew it as the Starbucks of craft beer, go on, you won't hurt my feelings. Personally, I go to Starbucks because Starbucks is fucking useful. Same deal here. Nice upholstered booths, pinball, board games, wifi, endless pitchers of water, and 30 taps that balance company beers with interesting guests -- including, it must be said, real German lager most of the time (right now: Gänstaller Rauch Royal, a beautiful smoked doppelbock).

Beereau

Castle: Previously in Gesundbrunnen, this pub is now just down Invalidenstrasse from Brewdog, and bang across the street from the Nordbahnhof S-Bahn station. Like Kaschk, it opens at 8 a.m. (10 a.m. weekends) and doubles as a coffee house -- another potential early starting point. It's also very near the excellent Berlin Wall Museum and Visitors Center. The 15 taps specialize in unusual and local independents; the downside is the price (rent in that spot must be high). I don't stay for long, but it's so convenient I usually pop in for one if in the neighborhood. I can't remember what the house Pils is, but it's decent and costs maybe €3.80 for a half-liter. Compare that to between €6 and €7 for smaller 40 cl measures of the variety ales. Consolation: They have those rotating snack dispensers for various nuts and Pringles. Those are cheap, anyway.

Beereau: Opens at 2 p.m. six days a week, basically at Oranienburger Tor, just off Friedrichsstrasse. Formerly known as Berlin Beer Academy, and still hosting the occasional tutored tasting, the shop/café here has taken on an identity (and name) of its own. Its selection of 300-odd beers are mostly on display in fridges next to the small bar, where there are also a few more on tap (including, recently, gorgeous Keesmann Herren Pils out of Bamberg for €2.50 per half-liter). The emphasis is on local Berlin breweries -- including every Berliner weisse they can get their hands on -- with choice bits of Franconia and international independents. Something for everyone here.

Beereau

A few others to mention: Along the walk from Kaschk to Brewdog (or vice versa), Mikkeller Bar Berlin opens at 3 p.m. Nearer to Alexanderplatz, Marcus Bräu (noon weekdays; 2 p.m. Sat; 4 p.m. Sun) is an old-fashioned, underrated, cozy little brewpub doing it all themselves, while Lemke am Alex (noon) is impressively large for a brewpub, with more choices, but tourist-pricey. Meanwhile nearby Aufsturz (noon) is an underrated arty bar that does some alt-Berliner cooking and about 100 bottled beers that include classics like Schlenkerla, St. Bernardus and Achouffe.

The Bavarian spots: I have no problem recommending these to tourists who only rarely get to Germany and aren't able to visit Munich -- or to anyone, really. Augustiner am Gendarmenmarkt (10 a.m.) offers the real experience, plus spigoted barrels of Edelstoff lager poured starting at 6 p.m. daily; Hofbräuhaus Berlin (10 a.m.) is a big proper beer hall with huge Sunday brunch buffet (kids eat free) and live oompah; while Weihenstephaner Berlin (11 a.m.) is an elegantly wooded, casual restaurant on Hackescher Markt featuring the usual pitch-perfect Hefeweissbier and Helles, among others. And even as I write about them I think, "Oh yeah, I should go there more often."

Beer Festival Porn.

Festivals. Can't do them all, but thankfully the calendar starts to thick with them this time of year. I wonder if other geeks get as excited about their festivals as beer geeks do. Maybe. Anyway, for the beer geek who loves to travel, the festival calendar becomes a particular sort of pornography.

So, where to find your festivals? No doubt you have favorite sources already. There is the precisely named Beer Festival Calendar. Jeff Evans keeps a broad list at Inside Beer. For Belgians and belgophiles, Paul Briggs maintains his list (and I post it to the left). There are the Ratebeer and BeerAdvocate event calendars. And more.

Generally one can sort the fests and their locations into three categories: Wish I Could Go There, Maybe I Will Be There, and Hot Damn I Am Already There. Here are a few examples from my own perspective.

Wish I Could Go There: The most intriguing festival of 2012 is not in Copenhagen or Philadelphia or Moen. It's in Worcester, Mass., on June 24 and 25.

Co-organized by importers Shelton Brothers and 12%, here are two reasons why the event named simply The Festival is top-shelf: (1) the brewers themselves will be there, and (2) the sheer quality and breadth of those brewers (and the cider- and mead-makers too, let's not forget them). I can't think of another festival more likely to have so much excellence served by the people who actually, er, excel.

Pardon my cherry-picking, but among many more in attendance: Anchorage, Blaugies, Cantillon, Dochter van de Korenaar, de Molen, Drie Fonteinen, Haandbryggeriet, Hill Farmstead, Jandrain-Jandrenouille, Jester King, Jolly Pumpkin, Mikkeller, Pretty Things, Senne, Stillwater, Struise, Thiriez and Tilquin. Whew.

I was going to ask how they can afford to fly in all those brewers from around the world, but now we can guess: Tickets for a three-and-a-half-hour session are $100 $60 each. There are three sessions. A weekend pass to all three runs you $235 $160. Sadly not in my budget, but I understand why they are doing it how they are doing it. I intend to live vicariously through those who attend.*

UPDATED on May 4 to explain that my sloppy guess about flying in brewers was just that: sloppy. I'm told they are paying their own way. Also, the Shelton Brothers have dropped the ticket prices. Still pricey compared to typical beer festivals, but there is nothing typical about that one.

Maybe I Will Be There: We'll spend a chunk of our summer in the States this year, but our plans shift and flow like so much Mississippi mud. But one that's looking pretty fortuitous is the St. Louis Brewers Heritage Festival, tentatively set for June 1 or 2. But as Evan Benn reported yesterday, the website is dead and the date might change. So we'll see.

One quirk of this festival is that the brand names of the beers get left behind at the festival gate. Instead of promoting a specific product, the breweries get together and provide the widest possible range of beer styles and recipes. You might know which brewery made that walnut brown ale, but the point is not who made it or what it's called, but the fact that this is what one particular walnut brown ale tastes like.

In fact, the next festival I'm about to mention plans to do the same thing. But instead of 80 or so different styles, there might be 15. And some of them will come from homebrewers.

Hot Damn I Am Already There: You surely know the old Frank Zappa quote about how you can't be a real country until you have a beer. But there are real countries and then there are real beer countries, so here is a corollary: You can't be a real beer country until you have a beer festival.

Costa Rica is about to get its first one of any consequence. The first Festival de Cerveza Artesanal is set for April 21 at Avenida Escazú. I reckon 98% of you have no hope of attending (maybe next year), but for those of you who are already here or with the wherewithal, tickets are available for 15,000 colones (about US$30) at the Bodega de Chema in Los Yoses, TicoBirra in Pavas, or Costa Rica's Craft Brewing in Cartago.

I won't use this blog to bang on about the festival, but I might use Twitter to relay information from the organizers. I'll be there, but not as a journalist or an organizer. I'll just be a homebrewer on that day.

Copenhagen, Hasselt, Westvleteren and Worcester.

It's 11.11.11. Make a wish.

For example: Maybe your wish is to go to Copenhagen next May and sample the rare and unusual, brewed by the rare and unusual. Tickets for the Copenhagen Beer Celebration go on sale today.

I've been a bit snarky (me?) in referring to the fest as "Mikkeller and Friends." It started when the announcement said the brewers there would be the "absolute elite of the international beer scene." Depends on your palate, I think, but I like the confidence. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be there.

Speaking of festivals... The kind Mr. Paul Briggs recently updated his Belgian Beer Festival Calendar. The link is here and over on the left, as usual. Did you know one of the best fests on the calendar is this weekend? Hasselt. Dig it. Would my first one be a Cantillon Mamouche or a De Ranke Hop Harvest? Tough call.

And a couple of items from the Shelton Brothers...

First, regarding next year's release of Westvleteren in the U.S.:

We are currently working with the Abbey to determine the way we will distribute the beer. If any retailers are interested in donating your services for the benefit of the Abbey (meaning no profit), please let us know. We may want to take you up on it. Otherwise, once we decide how we will make this available, we will let everybody know.

That's from the importer's newsletter. I have zero inside knowledge on this, but if I were, say, a bottle shop that wanted to stock some Westy, I'd be volunteering to donate my services right about now.

Finally, the Sheltons will be cooperating with 12 Percent Imports to organize a fest in Worcester, Mass., on  June 23 and 24. The two of them represent several of Belgium's best and most interesting small breweries. Closer and cheaper than Copenhagen for many of you. Is it the "absolute elite of the international beer scene"? Again... depends on your palate.

Nougatty Chunks of Belgian Beer News: Jean-Chris, Cantillon, Struise, and More.

Is nougatty a word? Doesn't matter.

Fans of La Rulles or Brasserie Ste-Helene may remember the Jean Chris beers... Rulles brewed the first one and Ste-Hélène the second, both designed for Jean Le Chocalatier in Habay-le-Neuve (run by a guy named, you guessed it, Jean) and the Mi-Orge Mi-Houblon beer shop in Arlon (run by a guy named Christophe). Part of the idea is to pair the beer with chocolate. Jean and Chris are buddies. Remind me to get together with a buddy one day and have top-flight Belgian breweries make beer for us.

One was a hoppy pale ale, the other was a stout. Both were short-lived, or so it seemed. Now I see both are on tap again at the Delirium Taphouse (that would be the ground level of Delirium Imperial Headquarters on Impasse de la Fidélité), according to the emailed newsletter. It's not clear to me whether these are freshly brewed again, or if the bar had been holding some kegs back for later (as it often does). I suspect the latter. Delirium co-owner Joel Pecheur has confirmed to me by email that these are fresh kegs, recently brewed, and he has my apologies for the unnecessary speculation.

The bigger news is that as of last month there is a third Jean-Chris beer, and this one comes from Cantillon. The Jean-Chris Nomad is a gueuze, bottled and blended from lambics of three different years aged in three different wine casks: a Bordeaux red, a Bordeaux white, and a Côtes du Rhône. So it's not simply a re-labeled Cantillon gueuze but apparently an original creation. Mi-Orge Mi-Houblon was selling the bottles, limited to three per person, starting in late September. It took less than a month to sell out. However, they are still available at Delirium and (I presume) Moeder Lambic as well.

OK, now for Struise: The guys in Oostvleteren have updated their draft list for the Copenhagen Beer Celebration (a.k.a. Mikkeller and Friends). Never you mind that it's not until May 11 and 12! These guys are prepared. And a little advance buzz never hurts. What jumps out at me from the list are the top three beers:

1. Havic - 4% bottom fermented dry hopped lager
2. Single Black - 2% BOB Stout
3. Sniper - 1.5% IPA

In other words, Struise has just destroyed your last hope of generalizing about their beers. And possibly they got sick of smart-asses like me asking when they're going to make a session beer. (Pictured: Urbain Coutteau in repose at the Struise farm.)

Finally: A blog that is right up my alley, and probably yours: Have Beer, Will Travel, there featuring a beery walk around Brussels. Nothing fancy, just lots of photos of beer we'd like to drink in places we'd like to be. The author, I believe is Fred Waltman, he of the Franconia Beer Guide and Mad Brewer. Apparently his blog has been around for a couple of years. But then, so have a lot of them.

Lots More on Beer and Terroir.

Just to catch you up: Remember that Washington Post article on "Belgium's upstart innovators"? I know, this is the third time I've brought it up. But it's where the conversation started, thanks to the quote from Wendy Littlefield of Vanberg & Dewulf.

She said that brewers like Alvinne and Struise are "really, arguably, are hurting the very culture that they claim to be arising out of."

Hang on, I thought. Now that is interesting. Not sure if I agree -- and it's worth noting that Littlefield says the quote was out of context -- but it's interesting nonetheless. So Littlefield and I struck up an email exchange on things like tradition and sense of place in light of brewers like Alvinne, Struise, Mikkeller, and others. I referred to them as part of a postmodern, transnational craft beer scene. (Insert "absolute elite" jab here.)

Meanwhile the Pour Curator published an interview with V&D's Don Feinberg. Part of what he said: "There are a couple brewers in Belgium who are making beer for Americans. We’re interested in Belgium, we’re interested in their traditions ... There are certain flavors that are true to a type of culture, and if you don’t believe that, you’re one step away from making soda."

Are you with me so far? Good. Because I have some more thoughtful stuff from Feinberg and Littlefield. It takes the form of an essay defending the idea of terroir in beer. Here is Wendy to introduce it:

I promised to send Joe more thoughts on the topic of what we think a good and true Belgian beer is – or is not. Don and I talked a bit – then Don left the room and wrote the essay that follows ….at the end of July – What with our with our crazy schedules and a little wrangling about whether it should appear under both our names or just his - I am only now getting around to sending it to Joe and posting it on our blog. So what constitutes terroir in the beer world? 

We commend you to the writings of Stan Hieronymous ... He has given the topic a good deal of thought. 

Full disclosure: We founded Brewery Ommegang –producing Belgian style beers made in America on a former hops farm. We certainly thought they had terroir – but then again….an argument can be made to the contrary. What do you think?

It is clear enough in the essay that terroir for Feinberg is much broader than dirt and rocks and weather. There is a sense of identity and taste from a particular place.

A great Saison made in Denmark is beer without a home, an orphan, a delicious flavor without roots, trapped in a glass. So is an IPA made in Belgium, or an Belgian Triple made in California.

So how does a brewery find its terroir?

There may be other ways to create a discernable [sic] character that sets a beer apart and above others but to me the surest way is the house character that comes only from the combination of water, climate, brewery configuration and 1 yeast strain. This character, without exception, limits the styles the brewery can produce. But, when used successfully, it also means brewery X can produce one style of beer better than other breweries. It is why so many European breweries typically specialize and brew only one style, lambic, weizen, abbey etc.

For lots more discussion fodder, here is the complete essay.

The floor is yours. And if any of you blogger types decide to riff on this elsewhere, please post a link in the comments if you don't mind.

Thirsty Pilgrim Roundup: Danish-American Elite Edition.

Question for those who have been to both the Great American Beer Festival in Denver and the Kerstbierfestival in Essen, Belgium: To which would you rather go?

GABF starts today. Long lines for beers and hundreds of people with whom I'd love to chat. Sounds like a lot of work to me. Thirsty, thirsty work.

Hey: It’s nearly time for you to take that long-dreamt-of trip to Denmark. By “nearly” I mean that your trip is approximately eight months away. May 11 and 12, 2012, to be exact. That’s when itinerant international-but-Danish brewer Mikkeller is organizing the first Copenhagen Beer Celebration. Says Mikkel Borg Bjergsø, "Our intention is to make a small, cozy festival where the main priority is quality." Laudable, I say even if it's tough to agree on what is quality. Interestingly (or not), the brewers lined up so far are mostly American. They include Jolly Pumpkin, Cigar City, Struise and Brewdog, among others. The announcement refers to them as the “absolute elite of the international beer scene” (again, according to whom? Ratebeer?). Anyway, “Mikkeller and Friends” would be a sitcom at least as interesting as that Dogfish Head show.

What we missed last weekend, along with the Beer Nut: The All-Ireland Craft Beerfest. (Is it weird that I'd rather be there than in Denver?) Among the participants: Eight Degrees, which I mention mainly because it will also be at that Mikkeller fest I just mentioned. An Irish craft brewery, run by an Aussie and a Kiwi. They appear to be pretty much brand new. Any reports?

Just south of DC, the old Shenandoah Brewing Co. -- where anyone could come and brew their own -- is gone (we made a couple of batches there ourselves there back in the day). Now the space will house a local edition of the Philadelphia-based Farmers Cabinet. Upscale comfort food and house-made beers. Brewmaster Terry Hawbakers says he’s into farmhouse styles, and that article mentions a funky, 3.8% abv grisette. “I think we want to focus on session beers,” he says. Promising.

From the Baltimore Sun, a visit to the Victoria Gastro Pub in Columbia, Md. Apparently the monthly beer tasting dinners there catching on (as they are in spots all over the country these days) and the chow is serious. Something to put on your Baltimore-Washington area to-do list. Let’s overlook the fact that the Sun writer referred to Lagunitas as “boutique” beer. That’s the sort of perfumey word that will send everyone running happily back to “craft.”

In Hoboken, N.J., a beer lover raves about the Gemütlichkeit at the new Pilsner Haus beer hall. Twenty-one taps with strength in Continental European beers and grub. Large mugs of lager. Everybody happy.

More Geuzey News. And Ponderings.

Here's a roundup of some Belgian beery news you can use... and some you can't, but maybe you'll enjoy it anyway.

Gueuzerie Tilquin opens its doors. Wallonia's first latter-day lambic blender plans an open house weekend on May 28 and 29, from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. each day. Go and see Pierre's big barrels and taste his work in Rebecq-Rognon, southwest of Halle. Conveniently for those of you lucky enough to go, those dates are the same as the Weekend of Spontaneous Fermentation in Buggenhout. You can do it all.

Speaking of the Weekend of Spontaneous Fermentation, there's a beer list here. That's an early tentative list, so I think you could expect more surprises. Just scanning that thing makes me hungry for cheese. I wonder if Drie Fonteinen's new Armand'4 Oude Geuze Lente will be there? That would be the first of four high-priced special blends aimed at re-starting brewing operations there.

Geuze-barrel woodchips in the grocery store. Really. Our man Phil Madden in Antwerp says he found them at a Carrefour Express. And he's a barbecue maven. He's also wondering whether they could be used to inoculate some homebrew. Apparently it was a barrel from Timmermans that gave its life for Phil's smoking habit.

What's Mom got on tap? I find it healthy to check what guest beers Moeder Lambic is pouring now and then. Keeps me motivated to make some money and get back there soon. In St-Gilles: Bink Bloesem from Kerkom, Hop Ruiter from Scheldebrouwerij, and Zona Cesarini from Birrificio Toccalmatto. Besides the usual Senne beers and other beauties. At Fontainas, at last check: Mikkeller Sorachi Ace IPA, Schlenkerla Fastenbier, Bi-Du Artigian ale, Schneider Weisse, Uerige Alt, Foufoune, Vigneronne, Cuvée St Gilloise, Bons Voeux, Saison Dupont Dry Hopping 2011, Biolégère, Witkap Triple, Cuvée de Ranke, De Ryck Arend Triple, Sainte Hélène Grognarde.

Are you buying fewer Belgian beers? Maybe because it's too expensive? Here's why I ask: Duvel reports that it's selling more of its strong ales--but not as much as it had hoped, thanks to a weak dollar. Maybe you have fewer duckets to spend, and maybe those duckets don't go as far as you like when facing the price tags of specialty European beers. Just wondering.

I mean, we can say "drink local" and mean it, but it's still nice to splurge now and then on an Orval or whatever your indulgence of choice might be. Right? But maybe we're doing so less often these days.

It's a critical question for Belgian craft brewers, many of whom are largely dependent on the U.S. export market.

*Photo courtesy of Pierre Tilquin.

Hedonism not Fetishism!

I'm toying with this idea, which is not so original, that it doesn't matter where a beer is from any more than it matters what style it is. Just for exercise, let's say, I'm ditching categories like they were training wheels to find balance with what matters most in the whole wide world: whether it gives me pleasure.

As a brewer you can take ideas from anywhere you want, right? And ultimately the finished product is your own, right? So why would you give your precious child to someone and say, "Here, this is an American-style IPA," or "Here, this is my take on a Swedish craft-brewed imperial porter," or whatever. Why put your beer and your drinker in a box like that? Why not just say, "Here, I made this." Keep the inspiration as your little secret. And if they want to know more: "It's a little bitter and fruity. I made it to be refreshing and to go with tacos, because I get get very thirsty, and I like tacos." For example.

Ideally the thing crafted is an expression of the craftsman, not an imitation of a category that probably thousands of other brewers (and homebrewers) have already tried to imitate. So why persist with the fetishes?

Oh, I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason why. Maybe some of you will remind me, since I've forgotten. But I don't have to play along. And if the answer is just, "So we know what to expect," then I would just say, "Then we shouldn't be so damned lazy." I'd also suggest that such labels give you the wrong idea as often as they give you the right one.

My point is—or was, originally—where a beer is from matters less and less these days. Call it another consequence of globalization—especially the ease of international trade, immigration and travel. Ideas are moving around faster than anyone can follow them. Meanwile what has always mattered most with beer is how much you enjoy it.

How else to explain the existence of Mikkeller beers like this one, the Single Hop Warrior IPA. I could say it's a bitter ale with big floral and orange-zest aroma, with a juicy but resiny flavor that coats the tongue and eventually hinders drinkability. I loved the first half-glass. Die-hard hopheads would love much more of it.

Or I could say this beer is an American style based loosely on a British style but brewed by Danish brewers at a Belgian brewery. But what would be the point?