The Daily Procrastinator

Munich is awesome. Or, perhaps, Munich is killing me by slowly destroying my liver. I haven’t decided which yet.

For the sake of brevity, my stay in Munich will be broken into two parts, each encompassing three days of my trip.

I should probably explain that beer is so prevalent here that even in convenience stores a simple bottle of lukewarm water can cost upwards of €1, Coke costs about the same, and a cold beer can be had for €0,69. Is it any wonder why I’m drinking beer by the half-liter? Also, please understand that all of these beers put even my favorite American microbrews to shame, and even if I tell you that they’re not the best of the best, they’re all pretty darned good.

My long-held ideal of beer perfection.

I arrived in Munich on Wednesday night, and immediately returned to a cafe where I’d had dinner about five years earlier, not far from Marienplatz. The beer of choice: half a liter of Franziskaner Hefe-Weisse. Now, I consider a fresh Franziskaner to be pretty much the top of the line in the Munich hefeweizen department. For the uninitiated, hefeweizens tend to be light in color, sweet with no bitterness, and with distinct undertones of banana, clove, vanilla and sometimes even a vaguely bubblegum flavor. This one was just as good as I remembered.

On Thursday, I opted to branch out. At lunch at Viktualienmarkt, the Munich farmer’s market, I had bratwurst and Hochzeits Weisse. These people have been brewing beer since Columbus was wandering around the Caribbean looking for India. Good beer, crisp and clean, but without the fruitiness and depth that I get from the Franziskaner. I also had the most interesting sauerkraut at this little cafe, made with caraway seeds, juniper berries and bay leaves, but that’s another story for another time, when and if I ever find a recipe for it.

Thursday night’s dinner was Krombacher Weisen. This was a good beer, excellent flavor and that hint of clove that I’ve come to expect. But it also had a bit of a bite to it, and not the characteristic smoothness that I tend to expect from a hefeweizen.

Friday brought with it a side trip to Salzburg, Austria. I had lunch while sitting at an outdoor cafe that’s built into Hohensalzburg Castle, high above the city and overlooking the stark Austrian mountains. It was there that I had the Stiegl Weizen Gold Dunkel. Stiegl has been brewing beer since 1492, and they know their stuff. Similar to a hefeweizen, the dunkelweizen gets its color from roasted or caramelized malts, giving it a deeper, roasted flavor.

Friday dinner was a two-part event: I began with the Hacker-Pschorr Hefe-Weisse, which may actually rival my beloved Franziskaner for top spot on my Bavarian beer list. These folks have been brewing beer since the early 1400s, and the effort is nothing short of spectacular. If I could get away with it, I’d dump the contents of my suitcase and fill it with nothing but this. Smooth, drinkable, refreshing and flavorful, it’s everything you could want in a beer.

Part two was a mistake. At a colleague’s recommendation, I tried a Monschof Kellerbier. It’s really well-reviewed, which just goes to show why there are a billion different kinds of beer out there. Personally, I hated it and didn’t even finish it. Too malty and bitter for my liking, or perhaps it was just the fact that it was coming on the heels of one of my favorite beers, and couldn’t live up to it.

Stay tuned for part 4, the continuation and conclusion of my Munich adventure.