Bavaria, On Tap
Jan 9th, 2010 by Marilyn
Home exactly one week, and with jet lag behind me (and snow shovel in hand) I can look back now and smile on a glorious time. Vienna was magic, Salzburg was alpine, and Munich – Munich was fascinating, with many faces: historic, kitschy, lively, stony, colorful, both wholly modern and mired in its past. We climbed hills, crossed bridges, walked cobblestone miles and prowled markets full of horseradish-heaped wursts, Eiswein and cheeses, rugged brown bread, wild honey and truffles and beer.
And…beer. Did I mention the beer? Like an amber line on the map, beer, serious bier, trailed us all through Bavaria. Beer is somehow beautiful over there; all hefty steins and tradition and frosty hopped-up light. That, or I was just on vacation. Either way me and beer, we’ve not always been friends. As an eager college drinker I’d throw up – Greg’s hair-holding skills sealed our deal – and later, a moderation-minded adult, I’d try excellent “artisan” beers and my nervous stomach would think it ate three loaves of bread. An uneasy truce, at best.
On this trip we traveled with my brother-in-law Stephen and his wife, Moa, a native Swede whose sociable, even-handed beer skills could put most European men to shame. She was happy. Greg and Stephen were deliriously happy. They were all three happy to explore the sudsy maze of cafes, cellars and stubes. And me? Come follow the amber line:
In Salzburg we visit Zum Fidelen Affen, which we thought meant something about a loyal monkey, but a waiter reveals it’s The Funky Monkey. Actually, the waiter says, it’s “funny” monkey, but “I just like to call it funky.”
In this friendly, wood-beamed room I discover the joys of rotwein gespritzt - red wine spritzer – and also free, fresh-baked pretzels. I will find out fast in other places that free pretzels don’t always mean good pretzels – but here they are both free and good. I suddenly feel great loyalty to The Funky Monkey, and resolve to become a great Austrian beer drinker, and get more pretzels.
I overdo it at The Monkey. At Gasthaus Somethingplatz I start ordering bottles of plain wasser, and by late afternoon in Mozartplatz, at a place possibly called Mozartbar, I start drinking peppermint tea. I am traveling, and careful. I am boring, and this annoys me. So I down a tall Pils, get twitchy, and then go back to sipping tea.
In Munich we visit a true temple of bier, the Hofbrauhaus, founded in 1592. Here, servers (some in traditional, half-laced St. Pauli girl-garb) rush liter beer steins, sometimes eight in each hand, to long wooden tables stuffed with locals, tourists, yuppies and grandmas. They eat weisswursts and clink glasses and have a marvelous time. I am about to succumb to the liter – an optimistic move, at best – when I discover the Radler. Part beer, part lemonade, it’s similar to the English Shandy and a great beer compromise for me, or, as Greg concludes, “a tasty little kid’s beer.” I love the Radler, hoist it with two hands and drink every drop. Greg and Stephen are amused. Now if they only put coffee in beer, I tell them, then you’d see some drinking.
And speaking of drinking, the Hofbrauhaus sees a lot of it. Most don’t get drunk, exactly – a higher tolerance than weak Americans – but the group right behind us, the big table of young, super-buff Italian guys? They gave their best impression of trying to drink all the beer in Germany.
They got more excitable round after round, yelling toasts and smashing heavy steins together. They broke into drinking songs, pounding beers, fists and cameras on the table, and each time they pounded, the beers jumped. Our table mates were Russian, the rowdy boys were Italian and the old ladies at the next table over were German, tut-tutting the rowdies. It was all very cavernous and beamed, cozy and sloshing. I slurped my Radler, smiled at my husband, read the beer-soaked carved initials lining wood planks. We shared another salty pretzel, smelled amber and lemon and hops, and I let that Bavarian afternoon drift away.
That stein is bigger than you! Did you try Spezi?
That is a gigantic beer. But the mix with lemonade I can handle. I love a good shandy and my summertime fare is often happily paired with a tall sweaty glass. Pure delight.
That is one, big stein.
Oh, sister. You are so tiny!
What that really needs is a handle on both sides
I’m sure if we calculated fluid-ounces-to-total-body-mass, you drank at least as much alcohol as the other three!
My sister tossed her cookies in the Hofbrauhaus when she was 16. To her credit, she managed to hold onto that heavy glass and tote it home. It’s out family penny jar now.
I want beer and pretzels!
Oh, I love those pages from the sketchbook! And I loved going to the Hofbrauhaus when I was in Munich; I’m sure the litre glasses played a part!
I had a somewhat similar experience (substitute all rum drinks you could imagine for free) in Belize. Lost most of the second day there but am proud (I think) to report I returned to the fray/bar on day 3.
That said, I’m glad you found a Shandy-tute so you could have fun, be comfortable (it is your vacation – who wants to spend it in a strange bathroom!?) and still hang with the beer heartier rest of your group.
Love the inspiring sketchbook pages – thanks for sharing them. I always believe I will do that when I take a trip and somehow never put my camera down long enough to try. Maybe next time !
Marilyn,
I really appreciate you sharing your adventures with us. I have such found memories of my trip to Austria.
I love beer drinking folk.
A stein of beer like that would just get me in trouble. I have no self control when it comes to beer. It feels so good when it hits my lips.
The coffee/beer combination should be pursued. Surely, it’s been done. I’ve seen chocolate stouts and such. Espresso stout, anyone.
http://www.nytimes.com/1995/09/14/business/beer-and-coffee-in-one-bottle.html?pagewanted=1
The above link has an article about Starbucks and Redhook Ale bottling an espresso stout.
I did a search for coffee beer and it turned up several recipes for brewing your own. I know better than to go down that road.
I believe it’s Rogue who makes a mocha porter that is positively divooon, if you are a dark beer and coffee fan.
Sounds like an amazing trip!!Beer and pretzels are one of life’s greatest pleasures. (I am a simple girl like that.)
“Somethingplatz”…tee hee.
I really love your blog, and your “best of” post made me salivate. Upside down tomato bread? Summer can’t come quick enough for this one…
Thanks for the fun recap of your drinking adventure!
I’m not much of a beer girl, unless there’s spicy food involved. But tell me–did you get to have any laugenbrot? Now that, I swoon for…the last time I was in Germany I was nearly eight months pregnant, and I was all about the breads. Egads.
oh my gosh, marilyn, that beer glass is as big as you! how did you drink it?
you write really beautifully, it’s a pleasure to read your posts. x shayma
Oh my, Marilyn I am so green with envy of your travels. Thanks for sharing! Also, thanks for the gastronomic inspiration, my friends and I utilize your site often for our weekly Ladies’ Night (you wrote a comment on their blog, Homage). Enjoy the rest of your trip and happy blogging!
Abbie
“Oh Marilyn, what a big stein you’re drinking from,” I say.
“All the better to really cement the fact, once and for all, that I really am a coffee drinker. No one can ever accuse me of not trying after this monster, right?” Marilyn says.
“Yes,” I say, “You are a trooper. And, if after that half gallon of bier, you still don’t care for it, then you shouldn’t have to try it again, ever.” The End.
Epilogue: Thanks, Marilyn, for a peek into a bier haus, and the lovely illustrations and witty fly-on-the-wall commentary. So fun to travel (vicariously) with you.
mmmmmmmmmm…beer……….
Were I to consume a beer the size of that one in your last photo, the next day a headline would run in my local paper:
Local woman found dead in alarmingly large pile of vomit.
I’m just saying.