All About Beer Magazine » Marzen

Lagers

Chad Wulff — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 17:00:00 +0000

Bottom fermented, and with little room for error, lagers are in no way mundane or something to pass up experiencing. With so many different producers creating multiple varieties these days, one can experience a local brewer’s take on a tradition, variation thereof, or a classic benchmark brand that is more widely available.

Plenty of new styles of ale have been showing up on the scene recently. Barrel aged ales, wildly fermented ales and a myriad of hop-bombs to entice the beer hunters out there. Experimental styles seem to generating a lot of intrigue, but for flavor and balance, be sure to stop by and give your old friends, the lagers, a visit once in a while.

Here are a few to revisit or try the next time you’re in the mood for a crisp, clean quaff. As far as pale lagers go, treat yourself to the Imperial Lager (91 points) from Lion Brewery Ceylon in Sri Lanka. An incredible lager to spend some time enjoying, considering its ABV weighs in at 8.8 percent. To amp it up a bit, invite some of your favorite curry dishes to the party. If the occasion is game day, and you need a great session brew to pair nicely with some homemade chili, try the lager from River Horse Brewery Lager in New Jersey (87 points).

Many brands these days are calling themselves pilsners. It is, after all, the most widely replicated style. Buyer beware: many in reality are watered down versions of the classic. Here are a few that will give a taste of true pilsner perfection. Zatec Bright Lager (90 points) from the Czech Republic, the home of pilsner, is highly drinkable and well balanced. Germany’s Paulaner Brauerei (88 points) brews another fine example of the style. Even Scotland has shown us an interesting take from the Atlas Brewery: Latitude Highland Pilsner (90 points) is soft on the palate and highly thirst quenching. Try any of these brews with some encased meats and hard cheeses at your next session with friends.

When fall rolls around, many breweries offer fine examples of malty Oktoberfest beers to grace the autumnal celebrations. From Germany, try Hofbrähaus München Oktoberfest (92 points) or Hacker-Pschorr Original Oktoberfest (90 points) as benchmarks for the style. Upland Brewing’s Oktoberfest Bavarian-Style Lager (84 points) from Indiana is a great example of the influence the classics have had on an American brewer: a big, roasty malt bomb with some warming qualities as well. Wash down some roasted chicken or pork with some spätzle on the side with any of these fest beers.

Dark lagers, or dunkels are personal favorite. Hirter Morchl from Austria (96 points), with its perfect balance, is a must-try for any fan of the style. Hofbrähaus München Dunkel (93 points) is also welcome to the session. If you are in the mood to seek out a domestic example, definitely keep your eyes open for Bastone Brewery’s Munich Dunkel Lager from Michigan (90 points): you will be rewarded with excellence. Try a dunkel with a liverwurst sandwich if you’re feeling adventurous.

Lastly, explore the doppelbocks, the dark and mischievous side of the lager coin. Salvator Doppelbock from Paulaner (93 points) was my introduction to the style many years ago and still a personal favorite. For a fun combo, pairing try it first with some braised pork-belly and then, for dessert, some crème brûlée: you’ll experience just how dynamic and complex this beer style really is.

A handful of classics and a few interpretations of the various styles rounded out this last World Beer Championships. Many thanks to the brewers and judges who participated in such an extraordinary event. Cheers!

Lagers

Chad Wulff — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 17:00:00 +0000

Märzen/Oktoberfest

K. Florian Klemp — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 14:32:00 +0000

As the air gets crisper and the leaves burn brighter, beer lovers turn their thoughts from summer quenchers to richer fall offerings. And no brew more appropriately fits the autumnal season, in both palate and appearance, than the coppery Märzen/Oktoberfest. Oddly named after two calendar months (Märzen is German for March), or more specifically a month and a seasonal festival, each name is important to the evolution of these plush, chewy lagerbiers.

The term “Märzen” is a remnant from a time when the brewing season’s last beers were made in spring and stored until late summer or fall. “Oktoberfest” was attached in relatively recent times, as the release of the beer coincided with the famous fall festival in Munich. They are the offspring of groundbreaking Viennese beers of the 19th century, preceding the more famously revolutionary golden pilsners of Bohemia by one year.

As 19th century brewers took advantage of technology that allowed year-round brewing, Märzen/Oktoberfest biers became a vestige of the original unforgiving, seasonal timetable. In spite of its confusing duplicity, the marriage of Märzen and Oktoberfest as a descriptive name perfectly frames the authenticity, patience and festivity of German lagerbier.

The Beers of March

Märzen has been a rather common designation for particular brews in Germany and Austria for hundreds of years. The brewing season before refrigeration lasted from the onset of the brisk fall chill until the last cool days of winter or early spring, usually in March. The reason is rather obvious: lower fermentation temperatures resulted in cleaner, more stable beer, as microbiological spoilage was much less likely. Naturally, those brewed in fall and winter could be consumed relatively fresh, but those made in March had to be consumed either immediately or stored into the summer and fall, when brewing could resume.

Those destined for the lengthiest lagering period, and perhaps brewed to a slightly higher gravity, were designated Märzenbier. Of course, long-term cold storage was not an issue, as those areas employing this method were near the Alps, and had either cold cellars or caves at their disposal. Under these conditions, strains of cold-tolerant, slow-working yeast were also unknowingly being selected and cultivated well before any sort of microbiology was understood.

During the 18th century, both Munich and Vienna were well-established brewing centers, and both used the Märzen concept as it applied to provisional beer. They differed, however, in that Vienna was brewing ales and Munich, its renowned bottom-fermented lagerbiers.

At the beginning of the 19th century, brewing began to take its first steps toward modernization, and two of the more famous brewers, Anton Dreher of Vienna and Gabriel Sedlmayr of Munich (and the Spaten-Franziskaner Brauerei), were working together, with Sedlmayr mentoring Dreher on the finer points of lager brewing.

Sedlmayr died in 1839 and the brewery was put into the hands of his sons, Josef and Gabriel II. Dreher had by now taken over the family brewery in Vienna and was using recent malting innovations to make pale base malt, one that was much lighter than the dark malts used in Munich’s lagers. Dreher’s amber brews were novel, and rivaled the pale ales being made in England at that time.

In 1841, Dreher put the finishing touch on his remarkable new brew by switching to lager brewing exclusively, his years of studying under the Sedlmayrs coming to fruition. A year later, golden pilsner beer was introduced in Bohemia, and though it may have trumped the Vienna lager in its stunning lightness, Viennese beer remained quite highly-regarded, especially among the braumeisters of Munich.

Central Europe: Beer and Unexpected Memories

Paul Ruschmann — Sun, 01 Jul 2007 23:56:28 +0000

We’re long time believers that no matter where you go, you’ll always find a memorable place to have a beer or two. Sometimes the memories come from the venues. Sometimes they come from the beer. And sometimes it’s the unexpected things you find when you visit. With that in mind, join us for a few out-of-the-way destinations in Central Europe.

Let’s begin in Prague. You’re thinking U Flecku, the 500 year-old landmark beer hall, aren’t you? Well yes, we went the world’s second best-known beer hall and drank the dark beer sitting alongside all the other tourists. It’s even fair to say we enjoyed ourselves. Even at tourist prices, the beer was inexpensive. The staff and crowd were friendly and relaxed.

Elsewhere in Prague, we drank plenty of Budweiser Budvar and Pilsener Urquell as we roamed from beer hall to beer hall, savoring every half-liter. But it was our quest to drink beer with the locals that led us to Branicky Sklipek Pivnice. It’s a workingman’s pub, a vanishing institution in town.

Without a doubt, it was the smokiest place we’ve ever visited; visibility was barely to the next table. The clientele was almost strictly middle-aged, chain-smoking men who had settled in for a long evening. The cold, crisp mugs of Branicky lager were about thirty-five cents. Inevitably, after a few beers, nature called. And that presented us with a problem. Well at least, it presented Maryanne with a problem.

The men’s restroom opened and closed so much that a revolving door would have been more efficient. Not so lucky for the ladies though. First try, the door was locked. Second try, the door was locked. Third try—still locked. Now wait a minute. There are hardly any women in this place. So, is someone in there? Maybe it’s broken? Maryanne could see the bartenders snickering as she looked around.

If anyone spoke English, they sure weren’t letting on. Terrific. Oh well. Suck it up and go to the bar, Maryanne. Both of the bartenders, who obviously pegged her as an American, were now laughing out loud as she approached. And then, they did a noticeable double-take when she asked for the key to the toilet—in Polish.

A handy little secret of traveling in central Europe is that if you speak a language native to one of the neighboring countries, almost everyone will understand enough of what you say. And they’ll cut you a lot of slack.

Mozart and Märzen

Most people visit Salzburg to pay homage to the city’s favorite son, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and see the cobblestone streets made famous by “The Sound of Music.” Anyone looking to purchase some beautiful Austrian crystal will enjoy going from shop to shop, and meeting the locals. Needless to say, this tiny town doesn’t lack for visitors. Beer lovers have yet another reason to enjoy Salzburg: Augustiner Brau.

The Augustiner monastery was founded in 1605 by Wolf Dietrich, Salzburg’s prince and archbishop. In 1835, the emperor handed the monastery over to the Benedictine order, which decided to cash in by inviting the public to drink their beer. Beer-savvy residents of Salzburg have flocked there ever since.

Walking into the beer hall was like a trip back in time. Not quite back to 1605, but to New Jersey, circa 1960, where our parents belonged to very ethnic Catholic parishes with large halls used for community activities. For a few brief moments, we were back in the past as we gazed at the high windows, the wood beam ceiling and the long rows of tables.

Luckily, we remembered to do as the locals do. We headed to the serving area, picked out ceramic mugs called krugs; bought tickets from the cashier; and turned in both mugs and tickets at the pouring station, where fresh, unfiltered lager was drawn from a wooden barrel. When it came time for a refill, we rinsed our mugs at the water fountain and began the process again.

Augustiner Brau was offering two beer selections: a Märzen, an amber colored lager; and, because it was Lent, a stronger brew called Fastenbier, which cost a few schillings more. For a city as expensive as Salzburg, the beer was quite cheap: about $2.50 a half-liter.

Only too soon it was time to head back to our hotel. We picked up our krugs and left them in the designated corner of the serving area and took one last long look at the marvelous piece of European culture and history know as Augustiner Brau. As we walked along the river, making our way back into town on that crisp night under the moon-lit sky, we knew our mental photo-album of Salzburg would be pleasant.

The Talking Lion

The next day we left for Munich and the start of Starkbierzeit, a celebration of Bavarian culture and potent doppelbocks. We’ve enjoyed all of our adventures in Bavaria, but our fondest memories are of that trip. The city was in a wonderful mood. The icy winter-chill in the air was gone and everyone seemed to take time to join friends and family to toast the season.

As we made the rounds of the city’s beer halls, each establishment seemed friendlier than the one before. The same was true of the beers, of course. Before long, sharing tables with strangers and singing “Ein Prosit” every fifteen minutes seemed perfectly normal—even though our cynical minds knew the band cued up “Ein Prosit” frequently to boost beer sales.

The high point of our trip came on our last evening in town. We set out for the Lowenbraukeller to watch the folkloric revue that locals and tourists alike fill the hall to see. It’s an easy place to find as it’s right off a subway stop. The building is draped in Bavarian flags and crests prominently featuring Bavaria’s beloved lions. While these majestic creatures never roamed the forests of Bavaria, they have always been viewed as a symbol of strength.

The beer hall itself is a beautiful building. It’s huge and ornate, has Old-World charm, and is soaked in Bavarian culture. Everyone drinks lots of beer and eats plenty of food, but the real reason they come is to toast traditional music and rituals. A band plays German favorites all night, singers in traditional costumes engage the crowd and invite the audience to participate in demonstrations of strength and traditional arts like wood-chopping.

Before we departed the Lowenbraukeller, we stopped to give a big nod and a smile to the enormous mechanical lion near the main entrance. After all, Lowenbreau means “lion’s beer.” After three, or was it four, liters of dopplebock, we were looking for the subway stairs only to hear a deep voice repeating “luf fen brow.” We just stood there, looked up and laughed.

It must have been a real sight: two jolly Americans, laughing uncontrollably, just standing in front of a mechanical lion that said “Lowenbrau” every twenty or so seconds. In retrospect, we’re sure that we weren’t the first, nor the last. On another trip to the Lowenbraukellar we noticed that the lion had disappeared from the corner. Had he been kidnapped and held for ransom? Hardly. One of the staff told us that the lion only comes out for the “fifth season.”

Here’s to a season just for dopplebock!

The Amber Family Portrait

K. Florian Klemp — Wed, 01 Nov 2000 14:12:08 +0000

The lexicon of beerspeak is rich with descriptive names. Stylistic terms can denote any number of beer characteristics, including origin (pilsner, Dortmunder), appearance (pale ale, witbier), and strength (barley wine, tripel), among others.

How then did the amber lagers, variously known as Vienna, märzen and Oktoberfest, come to be named after a city, a month, and a festival, respectively? Each has its own history and designation. Simply to dismiss amber lagers as a singular classification of beer would be to disregard the brewing history and innovation contributed by some of beerdom’s more venerable characters.

The amber lagers share a lineage that is both ancient and progressive (if a little convoluted) and comes full circle in the end. Märzen begat Vienna, Vienna begat Oktoberfest. In general, they demonstrate both the antiquity and modernity of lager brewing history.

The Roots

The desire for year-round beer in Europe many centuries ago necessitated some relatively sophisticated contemporary ingenuity. Even though the beers of the early part of this millennium were a bit, shall we say, unrefined by modern standards, the empiricists of the day noted that the brews were much better when made in the cooler seasons of autumn and winter. Beers brewed in late spring and summer were wholly inferior because of both the prevalence of contaminating organisms in the air and the hideous by-products of high fermentation temperatures.

It was also discovered that beers could be brewed in the warmer seasons of spring and summer, be stored in alpine caves until the weather cooled, and emerge unscathed to be consumed in the fall. This undoubtedly led to much ceremonious beer drinking following the summer. Beers following this protocol became known as “märzen” or March beers after the month in which most were brewed.

Simultaneously and rather serendipitously, lagering techniques and the selection of bottom-fermenting yeasts were also being developed. In certain parts of Europe, Munich included, bottom fermentation followed by cold storage was employed for all brews, as it imparted a clean and stable quality to the beer. Until the 19th century, however, these beers were dark and murky and did not resemble the märzen beers of today. Märzen, then, really came to describe a method rather than a particular style of beer.

The Dawn of Modern Lagers

Beer was a culturally important facet of life in most of central, eastern and northern Europe throughout recent history. Naturally, there was a constant desire to refine the product.

Many of the more significant improvements in the technology of brewing occurred in the first half of the 19th century. One of the greatest innovations was the development of gentler malt kilning techniques. Kilns that dried malt with indirect, hot-air heat rather than direct heat allowed for the production of very pale malts. The British by the early part of the 1800s were producing malt for their pale ales that were stunningly light in color compared to other malts found in Europe.

Luckily, around this time, a great friendship developed between two distinguished members of the brewing industry. The Viennese brewer, Anton Dreher, and Gabriel Sedlmayr II, son of the former royal braumeister and controller of the Spaten Brauerei in Munich, Gabriel I, studied and traveled together. They took keen interest in the innovations of the day and applied them to their own brewing skills.

Dreher was quite interested in developing a pale malt of his own. He eventually produced a malt from his continental barley that was light and toasty, and had a unique character. It became known as Vienna (Wiener) malt. This was the base for his distinct brews. His malt, coupled with the bottom-fermentation and lagering methodology that he learned from the Sedlmayrs, produced the first beer in what could be called the Vienna style in 1841. The general assumption, based on brewing records, is that it was a clear amber lagerbier. Sadly, few beers from Austria today resemble the original.

Completing the Circle

Much of the credit for perfecting the bottom-fermenting, cold-conditioning techniques that produce what are today called lagerbiers can be attributed to the braumeisters of Munich.

At the same time that Dreher was developing his Vienna beers, the Sedlmayrs were back at the Spaten Brauerei in Munich crafting and refining their stylistic contribution to the beer world. We know it today as Munich dunkel.

The Spaten brewery can trace its roots back to the 14th century and is thus one of the most established and traditional breweries in the world. But when Gabriel Sedlmayr I died in 1839, his sons, Josef and Gabriel II, took over, and their brewing eventually took a more progressive turn. Although they continued to produce their signature dunkels, they had always maintained a great interest in the brews of Vienna.

The golden and amber lagers of Bohemia and Austria were fast becoming very popular. Josef eventually became braumeister at Franziskaner (which today is part of the Spaten-Franziskaner merger) and in 1871 brewed a pilot batch of amber Viennese beer that was unlike anything else that could be sampled in the city. It received such acclaim that Josef decided to make a second batch the following spring. He named it Ur- Märzen (original märzen). It would be ready in the fall of 1872.

When, at the Oktoberfest celebration of 1872, the supply of the regular beer ran out, Sedlmayr came to the rescue with his märzenbier. It again was so popular that it became a regular beer of the Oktoberfest celebration. Not surprisingly, other breweries in Munich followed suit. Eventually, many märzen beers added the designation, “Oktoberfest,” to the sobriquet.

Today’s Beers

Though these beers are invariably bound stylistically, they do exhibit some noticeable subtle differences. There are three different names for these similar beers, but they are really just two distinct styles, with märzen and Oktoberfest being interchangeable or set together as in märzen/Oktoberfest.

In general, Viennas are slightly lower in gravity, a little drier, and have a noticeable hop character that leaves the beer well-balanced with a slightly spicy character. Märzen/Oktoberfest beers have a lusty, rich character that is definitely balanced toward the malt. Gentle hop rates allow the Munich-style malts to shine through in the M/O.

Though collectively referred to as “amber lagers,” the truth is that these beers extend the color parameters on either end. Some festbiers are a deep gold, bordering on amber, and both Vienna and märzen/Oktoberfest can be as dark as reddish amber.

Of course, this is a result of the malt that is employed. In order of kilning intensity (and concomitant flavor and color intensity), pilsner, Vienna and Munich malts will make up the majority, if not the entirety, of the grist. Pilsner produces a golden wort; Munich, an amber wort; and Vienna, somewhere in between. Vienna and Munich malts carry with them the chewy, toasted malt complexity and continental character to these beers. Color and flavoring malts are often used to add a bit more depth. They are medium to substantial in strength, coming in at 5 to 6 percent alcohol by volume.

Fall is the time of the year to scour the package stores and taprooms for festbiers. Many fine German varieties are available and in some markets, there may be as many as a dozen or so brands. The German brands tend to be seasonal, so savor them while you can. Spaten, Ayinger, Hacker-Pschorr, Paulaner, Wurzburger, Beck and others are likely to be found.

American breweries also produce an excellent range of Vienna and märzen/Oktoberfest beers, some of which are available year round. These might have any of the designations or simply be called “amber” or “amber lager.” They may be more common in the Midwest, but they can be found from coast to coast.

The influence of Austria and Germany can still be found in many Mexican beers. Most of the brews on the menu at Mexican restaurants that aren’t pale, golden and sporting a citrus wedge are in the Vienna or märzen/Oktoberfest style. Their flavor can’t be beat for washing down the spicy food.

Some people love the color and briskness of the fall season; others dislike the season for what it portends. However you view the coming of the winter, the beers of fall, with their autumnal colors and warm, comforting maltiness can be reason enough to look forward to the season.