Prost in place: Drinking to Oktoberfest at home

Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Oktoberfest is sadly cancelled this year for the 25th time in its history, and Theresienwiese (Theresa’s Meadow) in the west part of the city of Munich will stand empty of its usual jolly guests. Fortunately, it’s easy to obtain delicious Oktoberfest-style beers to enjoy at home.

Only 6 breweries pour at the annual Oktoberfest event in Munich, but breweries around the world create German-style beers each year in celebration of the famous festival. So what exactly is ‘Oktoberfest’ beer? The style that is served at the modern day Oktoberfest event is called ‘Märzen’ (meaning brewed in the month of March). It is a bottom-fermented lager made with Munich and Vienna malts, typically golden to amber in colour. Each brewery has their own unique take on Oktoberfest beer.

I decided to have my own little Oktoberfest from home, sampling some of the German classics, American takes, and finally something that might satisfy those that aren’t lager fans. Prost!

Paulaner Oktoberfest Bier (6.0% abv)
This is the only beer that is served at the Paulaner beer tents at the modern Oktoberfest event. It’s golden in colour with a gentle hop fragrance and drinks like a full-flavoured lager. This beer is tasty but a little too gassy for me. I could imagine getting hiccups after a stein or two.

Paulaner Oktoberfest Märzen (5.8% abv)
This amber-coloured beer is more full-bodied and rich than the modern Oktoberfest offering from Paulaner, and seems to me like it would be more sessionable. The full mouthfeel and robust biscuit notes give way to a smooth finish with a hint of caramel and fruit.

Spaten Premium Lager (5.2% abv)
Sadly I wasn’t able to get hold of the Spaten Oktoberfest offering, so I treated myself to some of their lager instead. For me, it’s everything that a great lager should be; rounded mouthfeel, bready notes with a soft hop aroma, and a crisp and refreshing finish.

Santa Fe Brewing Oktoberfest (6.0% abv)
A solid take on the classic Märzen style, this drinks clean and crisp, on the lighter-bodied end of the Märzen spectrum. This beer ends with sweet biscuit undertones a bit like sucking on a Digestive. Overall, lovely.

Sierra Nevada Brewing Oktoberfest (6.0% abv)
Full mouthful, rich toasty malts, but definitely hoppier than I’d expect a German Oktoberfest beer to be. I enjoyed the surprisingly floral aroma and fruity tones to this beer, though I would say that this is the least authentic of the ‘festbiers’ that I tasted.

Wallenpaupack Brewing Oktoberfest (5.9% abv)
Amber in colour, this beer is well-rounded and very drinkable, with a robust mouthfeel and lingering bitter finish. Another great American take on the Oktoberfest Märzen.

Schöfferhofer Hefeweizen Grapefruit (2.5% abv)
I enjoyed this a lot more than I expected to. It begins with intensely juicy aroma, then a sharp kick at the sides of the tongue which gives way to balanced sweetness, rounded mouthfeel and a lingering bitterness. Fans of Tangfastics and orange Tic Tacs will love this. This also works well served tall with a splash of Campari and plenty of ice.

Disclaimer: Paulaner, Wallenpaupack and Schöfferhofer kindly sent me these samples to try. I was not paid by anyone for this piece, and the reviews above represent my own opinions.

Beer naming trends – how far is too far?

The last decade or so has seen increased stylistic explosions in the brewing industry. They say that variety is the spice of life – but is there any substance behind the labels for these newly minted brew categories?

Some of these creations clearly pay homage to traditional brewing styles of countries like Germany and Belgium, whilst adding a modern, hipster-pleasing twist. Other concepts seem so harebrained that they appear to be borne out of an ill-advised brainstorm session in a hotbox.

Here’s my take on three craft brews that the barman would have given you a very funny look for ordering 20 years ago.

1. Black IPA

Once you get past the annoying contradictory name (and I humbly suggest that we all unite in refusing to do so, and adopt ‘Cascadian Dark Ale’ instead), this style isn’t all that bad an idea. It’s a beer ideal for the chilly winter nights, when you want something rich, smooth and dark, with a touch of the bitter bite that one is used to finding in a stout, combined with the late hop additions of your more refreshing summer beer choices for that full-flavoured finish.

Beers were cropping up on shelves and taps under this name as early as 2009, but seemed to reach a new peak of popularity around the 2016 mark. The thing is, it’s not new; many records suggest that beer fitting this description has been around for well over a century. Whilst traditional British darker ale styles have gone easy on hop flavour, German Schwarzbier has long allowed malts and hops to express themselves in unison as part of a dark beer. So perhaps this dark and hoppy craft offering could be said to be a top-fermented take on this German classic?

So I’m all for the revival, but why the name? Why did ‘Black IPA’ take off in popularity precisely how and when it did? Simple; it’s a gimmick. Black IPA rides on the coat tails of the IPA-centric craft beer revolution of the last couple of decades, and could be easily marketed to plaid-clad youngsters who know their Stone from their Sierra Nevada, but wouldn’t know a plum porter or breakfast stout if it smacked them in the face. Cynical? Perhaps.

2. Double IPA (DIPA)

I have a confession: the fuzziness of the definition of a DIPA annoys the hell out of me.

The concept of a DIPA is that the malt and hops are each scaled up to leave the bill and balance more or less unchanged, but to create a stronger, more punch-packing beer. All sounds great, right? But here’s the thing – one brewer’s IPA, is another’s DIPA, is another’s TIPA… and so on. Somehow, I find it a little discomforting that there appears to be no particular floor or ceiling which a DIPA must satisfy.

True, they tend to be higher ABV. But I have had DIPAs at 7% and IPAs at 7.5%. I’ve had West-Coast style IPAs with such a fierce hop flavour that they resembled medicine more closely than beer, and then I’ve braced for the DIPA from the same brewery, and been pleasantly surprised by a well-rounded, lengthy and full-flavoured finish.

Maybe it’s my issue – I’m just too keen to put beers in boxes, and sometimes it just doesn’t work that way. But mostly I think it’s just that I’m a little tired of West-Coast style IPAs. The hop explosion has its place, but the innovation on the New England side is much more interesting to me right now; the creamier mouthfeel just makes the hops sing.

3. White Stout

I’ve saved the most ludicrous until last.

I visited an incredibly trendy craft beer bar in Berlin earlier this year which boasted this style on tap, and I felt immediately confused. So what the fuck is it?

White Stout is a golden coloured ale which exhibits some rich chocolate and vanilla notes that one would usually expect to find in a darker beer. It might also have a thick and creamy mouthfeel that is characteristic of stouts.

Call me a purist, but I really struggle to get my head around this one. As a homebrewer, ‘stout’ conjures to mind selections of grain varieties that only a magician could extract a pale colour from. I love making pales with creamy mouthfeels, and flaked oats and wheat are my go-to grain additions to create this, yet I have never dreamed of labeling any such concoction a ‘white stout’ rather than a ‘white ale’.

So once again, I’m all for this beer style in principle, but it’s misnamed. Or perhaps there are already enough new style names, and this experiment does not actually need a name at all. If it has lactose, it’s a milkshake IPA or milkshake pale. Or if it has specialty toasted malts, what’s wrong with just calling it a Toasted Pale Ale?

 

I hope that in years to come, the innovation in the brewing industry continues apace – but maybe we could ease off on the new names for every single experiment. Our conversations with publicans will be more honest and straightforward for it.