Alt-ternatives

Monday's post was about Bonn and Wuppertal; today it's the neighbouring cities of Düsseldorf and Cologne. I've been to both before, some years ago, and you can read my incomplete account of their beers at that time here and here. I was keen to revisit some of the places, though I won't be repeating myself on the beers. In fact, how about an Alt-free tour of Düsseldorf, exploring the other option that most Alt houses have available?

At Uerige, my first stop, that's Hosen Hell, a Helles brewed and botted for them by Schlossbrauerei Au-Hallertau in Bavaria. It's on the stronger end of the spectrum at 5.2% ABV and is quite a deep gold colour. The aroma is lightly peachy, and the body is light too, though it manages a good bit of complexity. There's a sort of oily marzipan effect, and a touch of cinnamon spice. This is all without leaving the confines of the Helles style: the crystal-clean and slightly cakey pale lager. It's just a different sort of cake, I guess. Think Battenberg.

It was still summer at Schlüssel, where they were pouring Summer Ale. This was a big contrast to their very dry Alt, using Simcoe hops to surprisingly fruity effect. It's an innocent golden colour, but starts getting cheeky with a strong peach and banana aroma. On tasting, this explodes into a riot of floral pot pourri and air freshener spray, leading on to a slick buttery finish with zero bitterness. Somehow it manages to keep this all enjoyable and doesn't turn sickly or cloying. Certainly, it's a bit of fun for 250ml, though I'm not sure a larger measure or serial drinking would work here. Having such a distinctive counter-offer to their flagship is a great idea, and maybe more of the city's breweries were doing it.

Well not Schumacher. This was my first time in their downtown pub, Im Goldenen Kessel. It was crowded, the service surlier and less responsive than anywhere else in town, and I got stuck at a table where there probably shouldn't be a table. To top that off, their Alt alternative was... an Alt. Now, 1838er is 5% ABV and claims to be brewed with Cascade hops, but it's the clear dark brown of an Alt and has the same medium-roast base. Unfortunately, it also has diacetyl in spades, and tastes more like a Danish butter cookie than anything else. This smacks up against a sharp gastric acidity, rendering it a complete mess and somewhere close to undrinkable. The brewery advises us to look out for the hint of lemon in the aroma. Nah mate; that ship has sailed. It's just as well Schumacher's proper Alt is pretty decent.

Füchschen offers a Pils besides its Alt (and a Radler, but I couldn't be bothered with that), and there's no mention of it being brewed anywhere else, but it's very plain fare. There's a vaguely grassy aroma and quite a dull flavour with only a mild herbal edge and a dry finish. I couldn't find any other points of distinction. I suppose, again, that it contrasts pleasingly with the Alt, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with it, but I was surprised to see that they bottle it and send it out into the world. The rules in Germany are different, I guess: there's always room for one more samey pils if the price is right.

I couldn't have ordered an alternative to the Alt at Brauerei Kürzer, even if I wanted to. Kürzer Alt is all they were selling here, pumped into a transparent tank on the bar, directly facing the entrance. I don't think this brewery existed the last time I was here, but it was certainly new to me. Rather than the usual Gemütlichkeit-laden beer hall, there's a sparse and punkish Berlin vibe, plaster artfully removed to reveal bare brick. The brewery is up the back, a tangle of hoses and steel pipes.

I liked the beer. Despite the modern feel of the venue, they've taken a consciously traditional approach to Alt, starting with that lovely dark chestnut colour. The aroma is dry and roasty, like a porter, and the flavour is fiercely dry. It's almost ashen, and shocking at first, but it never turns harsh or unpleasant. There's no caramel and no hops to speak of; all is roast. My mind flips back to porter again, and how it was created as a style for drinking in quantity. This too would make a great session beer, I'm sure.

As I mentioned, I also went to Cologne, and I tried to explore the alternatives there, this time to ubiquitous Kölsch. It didn't work out as well.

First stop out of the station was Gaffel am Dom where I ordered their summer seasonal Sonnen Hopfen. Again, using an American hop in a pale ale seems to be the full extent of their iconoclasm, and this time it's Citra. I always enjoy when this sort of beer gets brewed by a German lager-specialist because you get an ultra-clean precision about the beer, and that was on display here. Visually, it's a modern murky yellow but the tight foam on top looks just like you get on a pale lager, and should really be the standard for pale ales too. In the background there's an unobtrusive malt crispness, serving as a base to deliver big lemon and lime icepop flavours up front. That's it, and that's all it needs to be. It's summery, refreshing and zesty. The city's drinking culture obliges one to drink small portions of it in sequence but I would have been much happier gulping a half litre mug of this one.

And the experiment ended there. None of the other Kölsch houses had anything new or strange for me to try. I re-enjoyed Päffgen Kölsch, this time at the central venue of Bierhaus en d'r Salzgass; got reacquainted with the lovely Mühlen Kölsch at its taproom; enjoyed a big willibecher of Edelstoff at the Augustiner place, because it was there; and was surprised to find Biermuseum still open and still serving German beers that were somewhat exciting 15 years ago but much less so now.

There was one new Kölsch tick to be had for me, at Sünner im Walfisch, a central venue I had eschewed last time, possibly because they don't normally serve their beer from the cask, though there was a platform on the bar for doing it. Sünner Kölsch is a fairly dull example of the style, cold from the keg and rather thin. Searching hard for complexity, I found a tiny hint of peachy fruit, some sharper leafy vegetable as it warmed and a little white pepper, but none of this is prominent in any meaningful way. You're much better off up the street at Päffgen.

Bonn is awash with Kölsch too. Peters Kölsch is everywhere, what with it being part of Dr Oetker's Radeberger family of brands. It's distinctive, but not really in a good way. While they may have been aiming for crisp, they've hit squarely on dry and it's almost ashen, which harms its refreshment power. Warm fermentation often provides some interesting hint of complexity, but I got none of that. I've never found a proper Kölsch that's actively unpleasant, and this isn't, but it doesn't use the features of the style to any interesting effect, even if you wouldn't mistake it for another industrial pils. But it's ticked, and that's the important part.

And then we're back on the rails. Supermarket chain REWE has its own brand of Kölsch in Richmodis, Unsurprisingly, this is another quite plain one -- the dryness still staying on my good side, however. And there's complexity too. Some of that is sweetcorn, which I'm certain isn't an ingredient, but adds a sense of the mass-market lagers from less civilised European countries. There's also a kick of sulphurous spice which I enjoyed and would have liked more of. While this is very unexciting work, it's not pretending to be anything else and as a supermarket cheapie does the job better than most.

A prolonged stopover at Mönchengladbach Hauptbahnhof afforded the opportunity to quaff a tinny of Reissdorf Kölsch. Having it slightly above cold meant I got more of a fruity flavour from this one: a pleasant hit of melon and white grape. Beyond that it's back to dry grain and the other Kölsch basics. A week in the area taught me that it's very much a style for drinking and not for trying to write about the differences between different examples. I salute anyone with the patience and palate to do that properly.

Me, I'm done with Kölsch for now, but not with Germany. There's one more post to come, with all the beers from exotic parts, like Bavaria and Pomerania.