An assortment of foreigns

This is the final post from my recent trip to Vienna for the spring meeting of the European Beer Consumers Union. The meeting venue for the first day was Del Fabro Kolarik, a drinks importation and distribution company which has close ties to Vienna's Ottakringer. The company's ancestry also includes a spell as the local outpost of the Budvar brewery, not long after it was founded and when they were all part of the jolly Austro-Hungarian empire. Budvar is still a major feature of its portfolio, and for the meeting they kindly tapped up a keg of Budvar Nealko.

I went in a little conflicted: non-alcoholic lager rarely floats my boat, but this is Budvar. Could they pull it off? Yes and no. It is still a non-alcoholic lager with much in common with the other major brands at large. It's a bit too sweet and has an off-putting sticky wort taste. But there's also a little of the Budvar class: a solid poke of freshly grassy Saaz hops, which goes some way towards putting manners on the malt. If you absolutely must drink one of these, this is probably about as good as it gets. I wouldn't be about to trade over from the real thing, however.

The Swedes, normally such a cheery and upbeat nation, were in mourning for the Stockholm Brewing Company, which has apparently changed hands, and with it a change in ethos. Its more interesting beers are for the chop, including its take on geuze: Max Cuvée. A bottle had been brought along for one last outing. Its demise is a real shame, because this was absolutely on point, packed with the gunpowder spice which I particularly enjoy, and with an assertive sourness which veered towards vinegar but stayed on the good side of that line. I would be distraught if something this good disappeared from my local beer scene.

Not for the first time, the Polish delegates brought cans from Trzech Kumpli. New to me was Misty, one of their hazy IPAs, or "contemporary", as the brewery labels it. A very normal hazy yellow colour with lots of foam, the aroma is all about the vanilla and you have to wait for the hops. They arrive in the flavour. tasting appropriately fresh and zesty. It's a charmer, offering nothing that lots of other beers like this don't also have, but without any of the unpleasantness hanging on. It's very clean and there's no heat, presumably since it's only 5.5% ABV. For haze fans, I think it would be well suited as a fridge filler or go-to pub IPA, much like our own Ambush.

The most interesting bottles had been muled in by the Icelandic delegation: three bottles of spontaneously fermented ale bearing the maker's mark of Grugg & Makk.

First open was the 2020 vintage of Svörtuloft, a pale and hazy yellow beer of 4.7% ABV. There was a pleasant soft peach element here, suggesting that Icelandic microflora contains nothing more exotic than the good old Brettanomyces that you get everywhere else. The finish is dry and crisp. That was all well and good, but plonked in front of it, spoiling the vista, was a horrible phenolic twang, suggesting that there are either evil bugs in the Nordic air as well, or that something went wrong in the brewing or packaging. I would have been annoyed if I had paid whatever doubtless eye-watering price this goes for in Iceland. Fortunately there was also a bottle of the 2023 version of the same beer to hand, and it didn't have the same thing, giving the peach free rein and allowing also for a more subtle pear nuance. It was maybe a little sharp and vinegary, perhaps due to its youth, but overall was rather good.

Employing yeast from a different part of the island was Djúpalónssandur. I'm guessing the recipe was otherwise the same, because this was a very similar beer, and not infected. It maybe seemed a little drier and less fruity, with a snappy cracker centre, less of the ripe fruit gumminess and also no suggestion of vinegar, I'm happy to say. As such, it was more subtle, and more interesting to drink as a result. I still don't even want to imagine the price tag.

One last beer for completeness, back in the cosy cellar of Café Bendl, where I brought you for Puntigamer on Monday. It's a Heineken house, and also sells their Czech lager Starobrno. This puts in a workmanlike performance, far from the Republic's best, but with enough of the core elements to keep me happy: crisp grain husk and a little tea. The absence of decoction mashing's signature richness and the Czechs' favourite off-flavour, diacetyl, means it's probably deemed unacceptably bland by the discerning drinkers in its home country, but it did the job for me.

The trip wraps up there. I went in in the full knowledge that there's much more to drinking in Vienna than lager after lager (not that there's anything wrong with that) but I don't think I was expecting to find quite the varied range of taste experiences that I did. Stay curious, Austria.