Around Silesia

I had the good fortune of being invited out to Wrocław in western Poland last month, to explore the area's booming microbrewing scene and attend its humungous beer festival. The city's cultural bureau runs the show, and the task of organising a crack team of international influencers fell to local YouTube celebrity Tomasz Kopyra. Said team consisted of Martyn Cornell and Simon Martin from the UK, Martin Voigt from Austria, and myself. On the first morning, ahead of the festival opening, Tomasz collected us in a car for a tour of some of the breweries in the greater Wrocław area.

Our first call was to Browar Cześć Brat in Jelcz-Laskowice, 24km from the city. It's a small one-room operation run by brothers Grzegorz and Michał Malcherek.

We began with a taste of Małe Czy Duże? ("Big or Small?"), their weizen which had been in the tanks for just two weeks. It's pale-coloured and creamy-textured with a touch of butane about the aroma and a more unorthodox vanilla essence in the flavour. It pulls off that clever weissbier trick of being refreshing despite the thickness, helped no doubt by the modest 4.7% ABV. There's nothing spectacular about it but it's absolutely rock solid.

Just finished and ready for release later that day was Jest Kwas ("It's Sour"), a kettle-soured beer with matcha tea, Sorachi Ace and Hüll Melon hops. It's a kind of greenish colour, and cloudy. Perhaps that was the matcha's doing, but if so it was the matcha's only contribution. The hops loom large over the flavour: pith from the Hüll Melon and a harsh burnt-plastic note from too much Sorachi. And despite the name it's not even very sour. Festivals are great for putting out your experimental recipes and I think this particular one needs further fine tuning.

Coś Na Wieczór? ("Something for the Evening?") was next, being a milk stout with added tonka beans. It's only 4% ABV which gives it a charming lightness despite the dessertish flavour profile. I got mild coffee notes and a sprinkling of brown sugar, but also lots of sweet vanilla. The smooth texture is absolutely textbook for the style and I was overjoyed they resisted the temptation to ramp up the strength as many a brewery would. The end result is balanced and satisfying; retro with just enough of a minor twist.

One bottled beer got opened before we left: Dobre Owocowe ("Good Fruit"), a passionfruit pale ale and even lower in strength at 3.7% ABV. It looks like juice and tastes incredibly juicy, I scribbled in my notebook as we headed back to the car. Passionfruit has that tendency to shout over all the other ingredients, and that almost happens here, but the hops get just enough of a look-in and bring sufficient citric bitterness for it to pass as a pale ale. I have plenty of time for summery session beers like this.

And then we were off, but not without some takeaway bottles to drink later. These included Jedno I Do Domu! ("One and Home!"), the Cześć Brat helles, an especially light affair at 4.4% ABV. It's properly full-bodied, however, and meets all the requirements of the style: a bready texture with crusts in the flavour; plenty of spinach and asparagus noble hops; and a quick, clean and, above all, polite, exit from the palate. Even consumed far warmer than it should be, the class here really shines through.

Their pale ale is called Pożycz Stówę ("Lend Me A Yard" -- it's a song) and is 5% ABV. It's a middle-of-the-road job but very decent: a mid-orange colour with a very slight haze. Bitterness is there: a clean grapefruit sharpness that seems to be missing from most Polish takes on American-style hop-forward beers. But the inevitable sweetness is present too, an orange jelly or marmalade sugar kick. The brewery's lager expertise rescues it, bringing a swift finish, preventing that sweetness from building. You get fresh citrus in every mouthful making it very quaffable, and maybe a little old-fashioned as the American C-hop palette goes, but still delicious.

It was back on the road again then. Our next stop was the Widawa brewery-restaurant in the tiny village of Chrząstawa Mała, but they weren't set up for the day yet. You'll have to wait until tomorrow's post to find out about their beer. It looked like a nice place, though.

Returning to Wrocław, we arrived at probably its most famous brewery, Stu Mostów. This is a very impressive set-up in an old industrial quarter of the city. The brewing floor is overlooked by the bar on a balcony above. Their beers are divided into three categories: WRCLW for the traditional and classic styles; Salamander for your modern craft takes; and ART for more experimental stuff.

Brand new on the day was Salamander Gose: Raspberry & Peach. It's purple coloured and has a strong raspberry aroma. The flavour is all sweet fruit with a mild salt tang but basically no sourness. For all that Poland has embraced microbrewing's current love for sourness, the examples I tasted mostly shied away from turning out beers that are properly tart, preferring to pile in the syrup instead. This was an example of that. It's thick and wholesome, and possibly even nutritious, but it barely tastes like beer and is certainly a long way from gose.

I switched to hops next, picking Salamander AIPA. I didn't notice the "I" in the initials so thought this a bit of a monster for the style, but 6.8% ABV is of course normal for American IPA. It looks thin though, arriving pale and clear, but the high gravity was very apparent from the first sip. It's thick and slick, redolent with vanilla and butterscotch. A tiny bitter tang on the very end is the only nod to what it's supposed to be. It's so sweet that it doesn't taste the strength, but that doesn't make it easy to drink. I was glad of the short pour.

Another new one before leaving: Salamander Micro IPA, which couldn't have been more different. For one thing, it's green: a pale and cloudy shade of mint. 2.7% ABV is normal for the style and yet it's beautifully full-bodied and soft with not a trace of wateriness -- and I was looking. The flavour opens with a zing of fresh lemon zest, an assertive bitter bite and lots of herbal and spicy complexity in the aftermath. This is a deliciously satisfying IPA, and its micro strength is almost by-the-by.

Stu Mostów beers aren't hard to find around Wrocław and there was a handful in the fridge at the airport bar on my way home later. From them I picked WRCLW Schöps, unable to make any sense of what it was. Turns out it's a recreation of an historic local style. It poured an unhealthy bronze colour, with no head from virtually no carbonation. It tasted great, though: wholesome brown bread with a sprinking of grapefruit, apple and banana. There's an ice-tea balance of sweet and dry which makes it very refreshing, and there's a kind of savoury cola-nut effect that stops the fruit getting cloying. One for drinking great hearty clay mugs of.

Back to the roadtrip and our next brewery was rather less showy. Profesja is tucked away at the rear of industrial units in what was once the city's parachute factory. There's no taproom: all is very functional and the drinking of samples was done standing up. The branding makes use of Wrocław's gnomes, scattered throughout the city streets, engaged in activities suited to their location.

The first of these was Smakosz, billed as an American-style pale ale with added guava. This one is at the more reasonable strength of 4.8% ABV and is a hazy orange colour. It's mostly about the fruit. Like the Cześć Brat one with passionfruit, there's enough hop bite in the finish for it to pass inspection as a pale ale, while the front is all ripe and squidgy tropicals. It's enjoyable and fun, verging on silly, but hasn't completely ruined or hidden the solid base beer. Not everyone gets the balance this right in such recipes.

Pilot was next: a bit of an experiment at just 1% ABV. The signature flavour of ultra-low alcohol pale ales is here: aspirin -- a hard and metallic sharpness. The aroma offers that too, in spades, and a sugary wort element as well. On the plus side there's a soft and fresh peach juiciness which helps offset the severity and the whole thing just about holds together into an acceptable drink; one which is probably a lifesaver for the designated drivers.

Profesja sent us away with two of their offerings. The first was Pirat, an imperial Baltic porter. This is 11.5% ABV and tastes like eating an entire box of Milk Tray in a single sitting. It's densely chocolatey, and sweet too, plus an edge of bourbon or sherry, despite no mention of barrel ageing. Several barrel versions of Pirat do exist and I can only imagine how boozy they taste, compared to this ball of combustibles. I liked it. I opened the bottle very late at night and it offered the perfect chillout combination of rich dark malt and lullaby alcohol.

The second is Bartnik, a cognac-barrel braggot. It's a deep garnet or ruby colour and the ABV is a very wineish 14%, so this is probably best thought of as a wine despite the 33cl bottle. The complete lack of carbonation is certainly wine-like, as is the ruby-port grape-and-oak warmth. I think I'd be hard pressed to find malt or hops or even honey in this. It's absolutely delicious, though: smooth and warming, full of rich raisin and plum flavours, a little like a fine matured dark trappist ale, minus the malty bread element.

The last brewery of the day was Prost, looking from the outside like the tasting room of a Californian winery and inside another grand traditional-style restaurant with the showpiece brewkit occupying pride of place at the entrance.

We only had time for a small quick one, and as is my wont when trialling an unfamiliar brewery, I picked the Prost Pils. It turned out to be very much in the tradition of Mitteleuropa brewpub lager: hazy and quite rough, piling in too much noble hop for my liking resulting in quite a harsh and sharp green flavour, all celery and spinach.

I would have liked to stay and explore more from the Prost line-up but we had a festival to get to.