The meanings of Bavaria

I hadn't realised that Dutch brewery Swinkels, formerly known as Bavaria, was still selling Bavaria beer after they got in trouble with the people of Bavaria for calling their beer Bavaria when it's not brewed anywhere near Bavaria. They are though. Bavaria Ultra ("Ultra", no less!) is easily overlooked, by me anyway, because the turquoise and white branding makes it look non-alcoholic. It is, however, 4.2% ABV, and its boast of being only 28 calories per 100ml is somewhat undermined by the giant 660ml bottle. Perhaps one is supposed to share it, but that wasn't going to happen.

All of the above, unsurprisingly, is the most interesting part of this beer. It is extremely dull fare, a wan yellow colour with barely an effort at a head. It tastes, equally unsurprisingly, cheap. I paid €3 for the big bottle but feel cheated as it has all the watery hallmarks of minimal production values, including adjunct cereals instead of proper malt, and a faint mineral tang where some hop bitterness is supposed to be. I don't need to say that it's thin as well, but that does suggest it might be refreshing when served extremely cold. The lack of flavour does at least mean a lack of off-flavours, and it's not overly fizzy either. That's about all I can say in its favour, however. I can see why the Bavarians were so upset. Hashtag not in my name.

Meanwhile, in actual Bavaria, something odd appears to have happened. Weihenstephaner Helles is a beer I've not seen before. It's not in the usual tall Weihenstephaner bottle, nor branded with the company's usual livery. Furthermore, it's a Helles, despite the brewery flagship, Weihenstephaner Original, also being a Helles. They're not the same beer, because Original is 4.8% ABV and this is 5.2%. Maybe in Germany there's a nuance in the difference that I'm missing, but it seems odd. Regardless, let's get it open.

I immediately wished I had picked up a bottle of Original at the same time, to do a comparison (and because it's delicious -- any excuse). From memory, this seems heavier and sweeter by comparison, leaning deeply into the malt side of the style. My usual descriptor for good Helles is spongecake; this goes beyond that, into donut flesh or even candyfloss with its sweetness. The label boasts of Hallertau Aroma and Saphir hops but I deem their contribution tokenistic: the waving of a damp spinach leaf over the brew kettle. What's impressive is that, despite significant density and sweetness, it's still very drinkable, showing a deftness of touch that's very Weihenstephaner: the brewery, and research institute, that wrote the book on perfectly formulated Bavarian lager.

I know it's not really appropriate to draw any kind of comparison between these two beers, but some of us have concluding paragraphs to write. Lager is not just lager, and always check you're in the correct Bavaria.