Dobranska Desitka is the 10˚ unfiltered house lager, light orange-colored in the glass and sitting beneath a fine and firm head of snow-white foam. A nose of crushed grain (think Grape Nuts) with underlying hints of resin and ripe pineapple in the background leads through to an appetizingly crisp mouthfeel that is softened by a flurry of light sugary caramel notes before a dry, bittersweet finish. It’s marvelous.

Dobranska Hvezda is the 12˚ svetly lezak (light lager), a superlative beer with sweet toasted grain, slight pepperiness and delicate Saaz-derived floral notes all vying for attention on the nose. The palate has a hint of fruit pastilles, a slight sweetness and a long lasting dry and bitter finish. A lightbulb flashes on in my head. I ask Petruzalek if what we are drinking is really a pilsner style, bearing in mind the closeness of the historical brewery (I didn’t know then that he had worked there until 2003). The answer, translated, comes back, “All these beers would be adjudged to be a pilsner style because of the way they are made.”

I guess he means yes. However, search through the rest of the Czech-brewing world and you will only find one brewery using the term pilsner: the mighty Pilsner Urquell, a Hercules of beer that has bestrode the world since its arrival in 1842. On that sunny afternoon, passing through this gorgeous array of beers, I wonder why this is so. Especially as in the rest of the brewing world the terms pils and pilsner/pilsener are sprinkled about as freely as ticker tape on a big day in Lower Manhattan.