Nockherberg

At the end of my street is the Paulaner brewery, the effluent from which smells better than the beer tastes. Behind this rises the Nockherberg, a hill on top of which sits their main beer garden, with a large feasting hall. This is a recreation of an older building which burnt down in the 90s, just after planning permission for major alterations was refused.

 If you're a pig, you'd better worry...

 Here is the main focus for the Starkbier season in Munich, where traditionally Bavarian dressed revellers turn up to pour flaggons of Salvator down their necks.

The bastards actually charge you to get in...

I would never drink Salvator at home out of the bottle, but whenever I've had it on tap it's been a different proposition. Whether it's a figment of my imagination or not I don't know, but it goes down much better this way. Out of all the "ators" I've tried it disguises the extra strength the best without any noticeable sweetness.

It's easy to get carried away with this stuff by the litre, so as I necked it I worked out a plan for getting home should my legs fail me after ten of them. It involved taking a leaf out of Bilbo Baggins' book, although given how litigious the Tolkien estate is maybe that wasn't a good idea. Were I to wab an empty Salvator barrel, place myself inside it and set it rolling, it would descend the hill, and then cannon billiards style off the wall at the bottom, which with a bit of luck would project me over a stream, from whence I would roll gently down my street to be deposited outside my tiny abode.

My Mate Unimate

The Starkbier season is slowly poking itself into life, and "-ators" are appearing everywhere.
First stop was the Unionsbrau in Haidhausen, one of Munich's better brewpubs.

Their "ator" is called Unimator...

This was like drinking a cream bun. The extra sweetness wasn't as sickly as you get in something like the disgusting Leffe (which ages ago put me off Belgian beers until I found out it wasn't at all representative), but it was still a bit too cloying for my tastes. I drank it rapidly in deliberate defiance of the exhortation on the menu to drink it slowly. Am I a rebel or what.

Next stop was the Paulaner brewhouse just off Marientplatz. Paulaner's name is mud in Munich, drinkers here preferring Augustiner. But their "ator" offering, the well known Salvator, was much more to my taste.

Very malty, but disguises the sweetness well. A wicked bite to it, and I could have drunk ten of these. I don't normally eat at these brewpubs, preferring to eat bogies to the revolting lumps of gristle that they dish up, but today I spotted something intriguing.

 Biramisu surely they could have called it? Or they should have made it with Salvator and called it Biramisator.

I'm sure they could have found a more appropriately sized plate. I could just about detect the Weissbier.