Imported enjoyment

Villa Torlonia is a grand 19th century mansion in Rome, which latterly served as Mussolini's official residence and then as Allied High Command headquarters after the war. The Italian state subsequently redeveloped it, opening the grounds as a public park. The orangery is now a rather grand café with a terrace, and in recent years it has hosted an annual festival of Franconian beer -- FrankenBierFest -- organised by Roman beer institution, The Football Pub. It just so happened that the 2026 edition was taking place when I was in Rome with EBCU a couple of weeks ago.

The programme lists 91 different beers, poured both from kegs and Bayerische Anstich wooden casks, though I reckon not more than half of these were on sale at the bars at any one time. Arriving when things were in full swing on the Saturday evening, I could tell this wasn't a gig for tasting samples: you're meant to drink.

My drinking began with a half-litre of Ur-Kö, an economically-named beer from the economically-named Hoh brewery in Köttensdorf. It's quite a strong amber lager, at 5.4% ABV, yet is raspingly dry, devoid of any Helles or Märzen sweetness. The slightly dark colour means it has a touch of roast in the flavour, but that's about the most interesting thing I can say about it. I guess it's intended as a retro recreation of an olden-days beer. If so, things sure were bland back then.

I didn't choose the next beer; a complimentary barrel of it was heaved onto a nearby table and tapped. This was the Vollbier from Stern of Schlüsselfeld, and quite a contrast it was too. It's kickingly bitter, packed with sharp damp grass and gentler salad herbs. That vegetal noble hop quality is very real and fresh, with no trace of the burnt plastic that often turns me off such beers. As the name implies, there's plenty of substance, its 5% ABV making it smooth and dense. And yet it still manages to be crisp and quenching. It took some time and effort to get the barrel emptied, and I enjoyed the beer immensely, right down to my final, sad, refill. Then it was back to the bar.

Obviously, there needed to be smoked beer, even though that's very much a minority interest in Franconia. Räucherla by Lippert caught my eye, and then my palate, because this one is extremely smoky. It's the right kind of smoke, fortunately, giving caramelised bacon rashers on another full and soft body. It's quite a pale amber, and the lack of balancing roast means it could easily have slipped into being cloying, but it deftly avoids that. Regardless of the scarcity of Rauchbier in the region, I guess when you have two world-famous practitioners on your doorstep, you get it right. For me, this goes toe-to-toe with the core beers from Spezial and Schlenkerla.

Smoked beer ticked off, I scanned for something dark next, finding Schwarzer Adler by Brauerei Eichhorn of Dörfleins-Hallstadt. I should have known it wouldn't be a typical Schwarzbier, because that's not really a Franconian thing. What I got here was a garnet-coloured lager of 6% ABV, with a horrifically sweet, saccharine, core. Around that, there's some liquorice bitterness and some dark chocolate, but no roast and, crucially, no lager-crispness. The result is somewhat sickly and, while passably drinkable and free of technical flaws, didn't suit me. My least favourite elements of Munich Dunkel and Czech tmavý pivo seemed gathered here in one glass, just to annoy me.

Although I only had four beers, I think my hit rate was better here than when touring the small breweries of Franconia for real. The person picking beers for the festival knows what they're doing.

As I mentioned on Monday, beers which were in town for the festival had also found their way into the general Roman on-trade, including at Be.Re, where we went straight from the gig. In need of more lager, I began there with the Zwickl by Hausbrauerei zur Sonne in Bischberg. I don't think it's just that I was no longer in the sunny garden of Villa Torlonia that I had a problem with this. For one thing, I don't think Zwickl should be as clear as this 4.8% ABV job was. There's also an unpleasant dry caraway seed flavour, turning almost papery by the finish. It's harsh, and I think may be one of those German beers designed for a palate very different from mine.

That leaves just a handful of other imported beers to report on. The Dutch delegate had brought sample cans of No Time Like Now, part of a regular series of charity beers organised by the Beer Geeks Facebook group. They used to happen at De Molen, and now it seems that Baxbier has stepped in to replace it. This is a grape ale, 20% must, built big at 8.3% ABV, and doubling down on the grape by dry-hopping with Nelson Sauvin. The result is a spectacular Nelson showcase, demonstrating that hop's luscious soft white grape flavours, accentuated and complemented by the actual grape juice. It's zingy and brightly fruity in a way that beers of this strength rarely are. It could be that it gets harder to drink in larger quantities, but I was very impressed with the small sample I had.

Retracing my steps to The Football Pub, they were serving Allsopp's Pale Ale on their handpump. This is the recently revived Burton brand, now brewed at Kirkstall in Leeds. The owner would like us to believe that this 4% ABV fellow has been brewed since 1730, showing it's not just the big multinationals which enjoy lying to their customers. Whatever about the details of where the recipe comes from, it seemed thoroughly modern to me. It's a clear yellow colour, the flavour opening on bright and sharp citrus, before softening to honeydew melon with a mineral chalky finish, because Burton, I guess. There's a lot of complexity in this small package: plenty of hop wallop, given a beautiful smoothness by the cask (maybe) format. It may be pitched as the heritage of England, but I think I detect an American accent too.

And finally, an English porter which was pouring from the handpump at Treefolk's. I've had the barrel-aged version of Five Points Derailed before, back when the London brewery's wares were in regular rotation at UnderDog. This is the plain version of it, although it is itself based on Five Points Railway Porter, given some Brettanomyces wild fermentation. It's a combination that works exceedingly well, keeping the classy dessertish chocolate of the base beer and adding in a serious funky Brett perfume, making it taste mature and vinous, with  mouth-watering dry bite. Gorgeous stuff, quite unusual, and maybe an object lesson for the Allsopp's people in how to give a beer some proper 18th-century feels.

That's all from Rome for now. The Italian capital remains an enjoyable beer destination at any time, but it's a bonus if you can catch an event too.