Erdinger Weissbrau Weizen Kristall

Wooooo! Beer!  You love it.  I love it.  We both love it.  But I love it better.  I blog love beer.  And one of my favorite kind-a beers, my best go-to beers, is a German Reinheitsgebot compliant weissbrau.  If I see a new one on the shelf at the store, I must have it.  Because I love it, and it loves me.  So lets get to it!

Erdinger Weissbrau Weizen Kristall, 1pint 9 oz, 5.3% ABV, from Erding, Germany.  Straw yellow and foamy for a minute and a half.  It's real pretty.

First it looks good, then the familiar aroma shows up one step ahead of the beautiful cold malty sweet wonder that the Germans deliver so well.  A funny thing happens when you take that first sip; your day gets better.  A good beer can make a crap day, better.

This beer, it isn't special, not particularly.  But it is good.  I don't know how a Kristall is in any way different from a Hefeweizen, and, thankfully, I don't care right now.  I'm just enjoying how this (not particularly special) beer is making my day particularly special.  You know what I mean.  You love beer too.

I don't think I'd buy 6 of these.  Bringing some to a party also seems wrong somehow.  If I hadn't picked up this beer to blog about, I might never have given it anything more than a happy thought for 1 pint and 9oz of my time.  All the same, my experience with this beer is summed up in this blog, and the next time I see this beer at a store, it will take me back to this moment.  This not special but good beer will, for me, remain locked in this blog.  I won't buy it again.  I will see it, remember what it was like to drink it and write about it, smile, and be inspired to try something else new and unfamiliar.  Because, like you, I love beer.

Monchshof Kellerbier

If there is one thing that understands me, it is German lagers.  Which is good, 'cause I sure as hell don't understand them.  I mean, what the fluff does "Kellerbier" even mean?  Does anyone even know?  It's just a random collection of letters, like "Monchshof" and "German."  One thing I do know about German lagers is this: I like 'em.  They taste like good beer.  If I had to die tomorrow I'd want to go out drinking German Lagers, rolling nude in my Skittles pool, spoiled nasty from a lifetime of riches and excess, and surrounded by my spurned and disowned loved ones.

Did you know that the Germans are legally barred from putting any weird shit in their beer?  It's true.  I read about it on the interwebs (those things you are on now)!  The Germans, I believe, hate both weird (non-sex related) shit and bad beers, and I show my approval by drinking their good beers to excess.

Monchshof Kellerbier, from Kulmbacher Brauerei,  is some tasty (non-sex related) beer.  There is a malty perfection, and smoothness of smokey beer liquid in my face.  It has a good body and nice legs.  Not so much by way of tits.  Two out of three, though...  Yup, good beer.

I'd like to wax poetic and ramble on about it if I wasn't so busy drinking.  So, clearly, good beer.  Drink this beer.

G. Schneider & Sohn, Schneider Weisse Aventinus Eisbock

"Aventinus has been known to be the most intense and

complex wheat-doppelbock in the world.  This was the 

 case in the past, but not anymore."

With a bold claim like that plastered on the label, I felt obliged to bring on the righteous judgment.  Join me on this journey, won't you?

Let's get right into it.  This beer whollups you with a big fist of flavor.  It is a syrupy, mildly vinegary, malty, sour, and just a little strange.  At first, anyway.  The "strange" part, I mean.  The rest stays just like I said it.  

I had a strawberry balsamic ice cream once, and it had a similar quality to this stuff.  The are both... I'm going to say, "challenging."  Sure, I'm drinking it.  I'm drinking it, and I'm liking it.  I really don't know why, though.  I don't want to like it.  I want to get angry at it, and beat it up with a stick behind a 7-11.  But, like a naughty puppy, I just can't stay mad.  I want another glass of this naughty puppy!

...

shit...

...

What I mean is that I, irrationally, and despite my best efforts, am enjoying this beer.  It is a really good beer.  People should know this naughty puppy beer.

Still, it bragged about being the rebirth and improvement of "the most intense and complex wheat-doppelbock in the world," and, for that, a bit of a slap-down is in order.  So, here goes: this is a one-bottle beer.  It may not even be that.  I'm working over time to get to the bottom of my second glass, and I still have a quarter of the bottle left.  You know that feeling you get when you are full at a buffet, but you haven't made your money back yet?  You bet you ass you are going back for more, godammit (grumble, bitch, gripe).  If I make it to the bottom of this bottle, I fully expect end up half-blind and filled with self-loathing.  Sweet, delicious, syrupy self-loathing.  

While I'm feeling punchy, I take issue with this beer's basic claim.  I really doubt that this is the pinnacle of intensity and complexity in the wheat-doppelbock world.  That just can't be true.  I've got my broom.  I call shenanigans, officially.  

Two sips left to go.  

It is an interesting and good beer, split one with somone you have mixed feelings about.  Give them more than you are having.

One sip left.  I really don't want it.

G. Schneider & Sohn, Schneider Weisse Aventinus Eisbock (I assume because they froze something to increase the natural sugars, like with ice wine, or I have no idea what "eisbock" means), from Bavaria, German.  11.2 fl. oz, and a whopping 12% ABV.  Dark brown, some head lingers for a minute or two, but don't wait that long to drink it.

still one sip left... godammit...

13th Centure Grut Bier

Sometimes you see something truly interesting on the local beer shelf.  You think to yourself, "Why not? I dare do all that may become a man."  It was in that Shakespearean moment that I read the following on a strange and interesting bottle:
   
     "Grut bier has roots in many cultures and each culture has it's own 'special ingredients': Egyptians, Native      Americans, Arabian Tribes, Gaulles, Germanic Tribes and the Vikings.
     This interpretation of a traditional Grut Bier is spiced with Lorbeer (bay leaves), Ingwer (ginger),                    Kummel (caraway [...]), Anis (anise [...]), Rosemarnin (rosemarie) & Enzian (gentian).  It is brewed with      water, wheat & barley malt.  "Polinated wild hops" and fermented using top fermenting yeast."

So of course I had to try it.  I tried it for myself, so that I would know, and for the world, so that you would know too.  One of us really got the short end of the stick on this deal.

So, here we have the 13th Century Grut Bier, sold in a 1 pint bottle, 4.6% ABV, from the good Dr. Fritz Briem in Munich.  A light straw colored ale, with a rapidly fading head.

As is my way, glass number 1 is a just-drink-it-and-see glass.  I had no idea what to expect from this one.  The label offers no real clues aside from the flavoring ingredients.  As reading a bread recipe won't give most people an idea about the taste, so too was the list quoted above unhelpful for divining the flavor I was about to experience.  However, if the person in charge of copy for the label had just written the following in big bold letters, I think I would have gotten the general idea: "IT TASTES LIKE HATE-FUCKING A GRAPEFRUIT".  I'm sure there is a reason some recipes are forgotten or lost.  I don't think the world was worse off for moving on from this concoction.  In all fairness, by the bottom of the glass, I was feeling much less assaulted and ready to give it a real think.

Glass 2, and what I found there.  The citrus is first and foremost.  That poor grapefruit I spoke of earlier will darken my soul forever.  But, I really want to see if I can weed out that list of ingredients.  Bay leaves: a hint, but not of the dried leaves so much as the subtle change the leaves produce in a soup, a slightly tangy, richness.  Ginger: the ginger parties with the citrus and makes itself known (not the life of the party but clearly brought a gift).  Caraway seeds: I have no idea what those taste like, pass.  Anise: nope, can't taste it.  Rosemarie & gentian: does anyone know what those are, much less what they taste like?  The big-boy flavor of this beer has to come from the wild hops.  I don't know why it had to be in quotes on the label, but there must be a reason aside from an warehouse sale on printer's marks. Maybe they meant to use air-quotes.

Grapefruit and some other stuff, that is what I taste.  But, mostly this beer is shit.  Don't drink it.  Don't seek it out.  If it finds you, run.  If it catches you, use the cyanide pill implanted in your molar.  Remember the tooth, but let's hope it doesn't come to that.  Until next time, be safe, keep your guard up, then don't drink this beer.

Original Schlenkerla Smokebeer

Mouthful.  In the quaint parlance of the 90's, this beer is a mouthful "to the max".  Word up, people.

Mouthful #1, the name: Aecht Schlenkerla Urbock, or Aecht Schlenferla Rauchbier <ges. gesch> Urbock, or Original Schlenkerla Smokebeer.  I have no idea what this beer is called.  It really could be any of several German things written on the label, or all of them. I don't speak German, but I do drink it.  When I drink this, it is still a mouthful.

As I stated, this beer is likely called Original Schlenkerla Smokebeer (google tranlsate has no friggin idea what any of it means, except that "Rauchbier" means "smokebeer"), comes in a 1 pint bottle, 6.5%ABV, brewed and bottled in Bamberg, Germany.  It is a dark, semi-opaque amber, and has just a little lingering foam after a minute.

The label is the kind of horrible shit you would expect to see on a sign at an Oktoberfest booth (in Texas).  In an earlier blog I confessed my love of old parchment and what not, but here we see a prime example of not to do parchment and scroll.  With its overly manuscript-y type and half-assed curled page, I feel like the designer barely contained their contempt for the eventual viewer.  Most of the words on the front label dissolve into a puddle of unidentifiable letters and lines, shoe-horned onto a bad stage-prop.  I cannot disparage this label enough.  As a beer-drinker, I'm offended.  As a designer, I'm outraged.  There is even a strange "Yay, Drunkie" wax seal that seems to say, "The Choice of Hobo Tramps Everywhere".  And, really, what the hell is the name of this beer?

There ends the problems I have with this beer,and brings me to Mouthful #2.  Sweet Jesus, this beer is good.  Finger-lickin' good.  Smokey, dark, malty, nutty, dense,... Leave it to the Germans: this beer is the real deal.  In addition to the usual photo of the bottle and pour, I have included a second photo.  Scroll down and see my dog Tofu.  She is necessary to this review, because this is the kind of beer you have to drink with your dog.  If you have a dog, you probably know what I mean.  If you don't have a dog, go buy this beer, take a sip, then go rent a dog, and try the beer again.  You'll understand.  This beer is so rich of an experience, you need to have a quite drink, just you and your dog, to fully appreciate all it has to offer.  Don't drink this at a bar, with friends, or in a well-lit room.  Wait for sunset, pour your glass, get your dog, settle in on your front step, and take a drink while scratching your dog's ear.  I promise, you will sip the very essence of a beautiful moment.  My dog looks shy in the picture because she is naked, not because the beer isn't wonderful.

Second glass is poured.  I want to evaluate the flavors as they happen, but I don't know that when I take that sip, I will be able to care.  I like drinking this beer.  I don't want to over-think it, just live it.  Stream of consciousness it is!  smoke, cold-fizz, camp fires, woods, pecans, sleeping in a hammock, steak, bar-b-que.

That is it!  Liquid bar-b-que.  I realize that sounds disgusting.  Drink the beer anyway, and be connect with all things manly.  This beer could be a lumberjack.  If it was a different color, it would be plaid, on flannel.  Buy this beer, rent a dog, watch the sun set, reconnect with something necessary in all our lives.  Just don't look at the label.