The creeping fingers of Evil

One of the great things about Germany compared to Britain is the lack of puritanism and prohibition. You can get a beer practically anywhere - in a museum, at a kebab place, in a park, at the cinema, at the canteen at work. Just as importantly, nobody would dream of batting an eyelid at you for doing so, whatever the time of day. It's perfectly normal to see people at the train station at 9am having a beer whilst waiting for their train.
But unfortunately I recently saw a very disturbing sign on the train from Celle to Lubeck.

This wasn't a Deutsche-Bahn train; it was run by a company called "Metronom", which as far as I can work out is owned by a couple of the states in the area (other accounts suggest it's privately owned though).
I very much hope this isn't the way things are going to go in the future in Germany; I would gladly boycott this revolting train company if I had the slightest choice.
Germany beware - do not invite the odious disease of self-righteous puritanism through your front door, because like Count Dracula it will stick its fangs in and you will never be rid of it.
To get rid of this sick feeling in the stomach, I had to retire to the nearest Brauhaus. Luckily Lubeck has a fine example in "Brauberger".

Situated in a quiet side-street in the Altstadt, they have a traditional look inside.
 

One wall is adorned with a fat King.

I don't know what this jolly plump fellow would have thought if he'd known that one day in the distant future you wouldn't be allowed to drink a beer on a train in his kingdom. You would have had to explain what a train was first I suppose.
Their house brewed unfiltered Pils needs no explanation though.

Whilst drinking it I had a vision of the fat King smashing a Metronom train to pieces with his axe. Cheers Fatso.

The town of Lüneburg is a gem which should be much more widely known. Apart from a splendidly preserved Altstadt it's other notable feature is the Brauhaus "Mälzer".

Inside the brewing paraphernalia is as usual on full view.

Their unfiltered Pils is decent enough, but what really stands out is their Weissbier.

"Caramel Surprise" is what they should call this beer. The caramel flavour is so strong it's still coming out of your armpits days later. Whatever type of yeast they're using, they should pass on some of it to some Bavarian brewers, who are put to shame by this fine example of the genre.

Fruity Maibocks

Some people can wax lyrical Jilly Goolden style about the beer they're drinking, describing the outlandish flavours they're picking up, like sawdust, essence of cow, roasted tissues, tables, and coat-hangers. A quick perusal of RateBeer will unearth all manner of unearthly flavours which would probably flummox the actual brewers.
Personally I find 90% of this stuff to be a load of old bollocks, but occasionally I might try a hand at it, but usually only as far as pretty basic stuff like 'fruity'. The first time I ever described a beer as 'fruity' was a couple of decades ago when I described the cask ale in the Hadfield in Sheffield in such a manner. A bloke who worked behind the bar later enlightened me that the 'fruity' taste was probably a result of the copious amount of slops that Fat Rob the landlord recycled, and his habit of scraping the sediment out of the casks to eke out every last bit. Since then I've tended to keep my mouth shut.
Recently though I did come across a couple of fruity numbers.

"Brauhaus Meierei" in Potsdam is a truly wonderful place. Set in an old monastery style building by a lake, it features some exceptional beers.

To their eternal credit they don't just churn out the same selection as a normal German brauhaus, but actually do a Berliner Weisse. Apart from the usual Kindl, this is the only time I've found this style. Whereas Kindl is 3% this one is 5%, and has more sourness than the slightly tamer Kindl.

They still serve it in a traditional Berliner Weisse glass, and still with a straw - I never could quite work that out.
The star of the show though is their awesome unfiltered Maibock. Many Maibocks in Munich can be a bit tedious and overly malty - this one isn't. It's fruity - and I can say that without fear of finding out later that it's actually because of sediment and other peoples' saliva.

It's extremely rare that I find a German bottled beer that I would be happy drinking as my regular, but I was very pleasantly surprised recently by a bottled Maibock.
"Dresdner Feldschlösschen" is what it calls itself, and is another to which I grant the esteemed title 'fruity'.

I name these two Maibocks "The Fruity Buds of May".

Unfiltered in Berlin

My quest for unfiltered German beer has lead me to Berlin, and in particular the brewpub Eschenbräu. This is not particularly easy to find, being hidden away round the back of another building, but it's worth it for their unfiltered beer, cider, and a wicked apple juice.

It's a funky laid back sort of place typical of Berlin, and has the highly commendable policy of allowing drinkers to bring their own food.

The Pilsner is a juicy golden colour but for me had a tad too much carbonation...

They also do a cider which was decent but again a bit too fizzy.

Onto "Hops and Barley", a brewpub which is located on a street full of hippy shops and stuff.

It's a cozy convivial place inside...

Their unfiltered pils seemed to use some non-standard hops; at first I found it a bit odd but it gradually grew on me.

Their 'special' was a Helles which, unusually, I didn't regret ordering.
If you ever saw "King of the Hill" then you might remember that once an episode there was one character who would speak a load of unintelligible gibberish in a strong southern USA accent. Whilst I was there an American geezer came in and started asking the staff for recommendations in what sounded like a double-speed impersonation of this character. He eventually got a Pils and retired outside, after which the staff conferred to try and come up with some guesses as to what he might have been asking.

Finally we have Brauhaus Südstern, a brewpub with a beer garden bordering a large park.

This place is highly unusual in that it does a Roggen Ale, which they tragically have renamed "Roggen Roll Ale" (the pub has a music theme). Despite this, it's a highly commendable German attempt at a top fermented beer.

There were some very interesting flavours in there because of the rye and barley - the only other one of this style I tried was the Stortebeker one, and this was far superior to that one.
The Helles is unfiltered and was infinitely superior to the bland ones you get in Munich.

All three are recommended, but Südstern comes out on top.

Watzke, Dresden

Were you to start at the restored old town in Dresden, and walk down the right side of the Elbe towards Meissen, you would eventually reach the area called Pieschen. There the Elbe is very wide, and if you can avoid the extreme cycle terror then there is a wonderful reward waiting for you by its banks.

A brewpub in Germany doesn't usually evoke too much excitement, as although the beer is freshly brewed on site, it usually isn't very interesting. The Watzke brauhaus and beer garden, though, is an altogether different beast from your average German brauhaus.

As the back of the beer serving dude proudly proclaims, all their beers are unfiltered. There's a Pils, something called an Altpieschner, a wheat beer and a seasonal, which of course in May was a Maibock. Outside there's a beer garden where you can catch a glimpse of the Frauenkirche in the distance.

The main building itself is a converted ballroom...

They still hold 'balls' there apparently, which allow you the novelty of drinking unfiltered beer whilst mincing around in a DJ and tie. They also have the coolest car ever, featuring someone who sort of looks like a younger Ray Winstone.

Inside you can get these wicked mini barrels which you can plonk on your table and then you don't have to wait for someone to bring you your next pint.

The Pils is the best one I've had in Germany without a doubt... as good as anything I've had in Prague. The hops literally burst into your nose and ears.

The Alpieschner is darker and has a caramel type thing.

Watzke... the finest brauhaus I've been to in Germany, including those in Cologne and Dusseldorf.

Waldschlösschen, Dresden

Dresden's main brewpub is located a short bus ride from the centre, along the Elbe with a view of the old town.

It's an enormous place with various outdoor terraces...

Inside is done out like a traditional German beer hall...

But does the beer match the decor? The Zwickel is unfiltered, but after a month of Czech unfiltered beers it had a lot to live up to.

It was decent enough, but way too carbonated. A decent Kellerbier from Franconia or a nepastrovany from Czech can be gulped down without drawing breath, but this was too fizzy. A reasonable effort nonetheless by German brewpub standards.
I thought I've give the Helles a try too.

I wish I hadn't bothered. I'd almost forgotten how utterly bland and tedious this style is.

Dresden itself it sufficiently close to Czech to feel the gravitational pull of Czech lager. The supermarkets often have a much wider selection of Czech beers than you would ever see in Munich, and on the whole I noticed that the locally brewed beers were hoppier than usual for Germany.
One quite impressive brew was Freibergisch 1863...

Suprisingly hoppy for a German beer.
Not much else beer related really worth mentioning in Dresden really; you come for the local scenery rather than the beer.

Six of the best

Quite a few Czech breweries do these 'mega party assortment' packages, consisting of a number of beers and a glass chucked in, and maybe some balloons or something.

This one from Svijany has all non-pasteurised brews.

The 'knezna' was the best, dark and brooding like Heathcliff in beer form. The 'desitka' was the least enticing, being somewhat watery and bland. The rest were of a muchness, with the 'Rytir' being slightly hoppy and worth a shout.

Who's ever heard of hot beer? Pivovarský dům, that's who. They use one of their fruit flavoured beers to make it - this one is caramel flavoured.

It does actually taste of beer a bit, despite the head being more like the head of a coffee, which doesn't actually disappear... a novel idea, although I can't see it catching on.

Three more Czech attempts at something different: a smoked beer, a stout, and a porter.
The smoked beer, from Cesky Krumlov brewer Eggenberg, was a decent beer but had far less of a smoked flavour than the Franconian versions; some would say that that's a good thing. The 'Primator' stout was also a perfectly good stab, although not particularly distinctive.
I approached the Pardubický Porter with extreme trepidation; the German 'porters' are the vilest thing you will ever taste. Imagine my surprise, and utter joy, to find that it is an absolutely rip-roaring porter, full of the plums, damsons and fig type stuff, and bursting with flavour. Wow.


After a month in Czech, I can say without a smidgen of doubt that Czech beer urinates on German beer from a great height. Not only are the bog standard pasteurised and filtered Czech beers far, far superior to their German counterparts, the wide availability of non-pasteurised and especially unfiltered beers means that a re-run of the Euro 96 final, but played with beer instead of football, would result in an 18-0 thrashing in favour of the Czechs.

Non-natives

It's usually a good idea when in a certain country, to drink the beer styles which have a heritage there. So avoid lager in the UK which is normally fizzy piss, and don't even get me started on the vile noxious filth which passes for 'porter' in Germany.
How does Czech fare when it comes to brewing non-lagers?

This brewpub "Klášterní pivovar Strahov" in Prague proudly displays its wares.

Non-lager styles are usually referred to as 'special' on Czech menus but without much more detail, whereas in this place they've got a heavy tourist custom.

Come on in...

Their IPA is a regular feature of the show, with various rotating beers, one of which was an 'American Pale Ale'. Everything's unfiltered and unpasteurised naturellement.

The 'APA' on the right contains what the brewery claims are newly breeded hops - 'Mandarin' and 'Polaris', although it doesn't say how the names were chosen. It had been a while since I'd had a heavily citrus hopped beer, and this one reminded me why - all hops and no chops you might say. The bitterness drowned out everything like an enraged elephant in a glockenspiel performance.
The IPA was far better though, with the Amarillo and Cascade in proper proportion. Either of these could have come straight from an American craft brewer.
 

This pair of fellas from a supermarket were a curiosity. I wasn't able to find much detail out about them other than that they're called 'Master Pivo', and that they're 'Special' beer. The lighter one was vaguely like Old Speckled Hen, whereas the dark one looked, smelt, and tasted like a coffee infused stout. Definitely worth getting again, although they're battling for room in my trolley with the unfiltered Staropramen and the unpasteurised Klaster lezak.

Olomouc is a town in the east of Czech, and in the 'Sherlock Holmes' you can find various special beers such as, depending on the season, fruit ales and pale ales.
The pale ale was a commendable effort, and mercifully not overhopped.

Nice as it was, it couldn't quite compete with the star of the show, the unfiltered Rychtar:

Skilful though the Czechs are at brewing non-lagers when they put their minds to it, I'm going to stick with gems such as this.