Okay, okay. LAST Germany post and then I’ll shut up. I know you’re rolling your eyes already. But I hope you realize it’s just because you’re jealous, and God says that’s a sin. You should be ashamed.
On Day #2 in Hamburg, we recovered from Hangover #1 by going to a museum, appearing on a TV show and then drinking more beer.
Okay we weren’t on the show. Our friend works for a production company and we got to sit in the audience. But I am going to be on TV in Germany. You’ll know it’s me because I’ll be the jerk clapping in all the wrong places. (Because I’m an American, get it?)
Anyway, Gröninger Privatbrauerei.
Can you feel the anticipation building? I can.
Right off the bat I loved this place. It’s a tiny little brewery in Hamburg and it just screams Old World: Dark. Low ceilings. You sit on barrels.
And they brew their beer in the old copper kettles just like the microbrewers of yore. (Or is “yore” only in England? I always forget.)
I wasn’t sure if I was gonna like the beer, because I’ve honestly never met a pils I liked. Just the word, “pilsner,” transports me back to my younger days of shotgunning cans of Bud Light or using my last $5 to pay the cover at a keg party. (Just kidding, we all know girls don’t have to pay covers.)
But this? Hoooomygod.
They brew it stronger and darker and sweeter than any pils I’ve ever had. If it weren’t so fresh and boozy, the sweetness might have been overwhelming, but as it was, it just added a velvety smooth finish to the subtle hoppiness; malty, caramelly, strong tones of raisins and honey. More like a barley wine than a pilsner.
And if that weren’t enough, they also had some fantastic food — sauerkraut, potatoes, bread and MEAT. My God, the meat.
Somehow methinks the exorbitant amounts of food might be inspired by the American tourism machine; plus, the whole sausage thing is really more of a Bavarian tradition than a northern Germany thing. But yeah, we let it slide.
As we were walking out, Larsy surprised us with a growler to take with us — we drank it at the hotel in Rothenburg.
Look, you can go to the big beer halls, drink liters and liters of light beer, fall off the table, black out and then come to in a coagulated pool of sawdust and vomit and it’s fine. Hell, it’s fun!
But you should also do the micro thing: have an intimate dinner with three of your favorite people over fantastic food and beer, and wake up smelling a lot better.
Trust me, I’ve done both.