Going Back to My Roots … or … Eine Mehr Bier, Bitte

It was an interesting weekend. Sorry I haven’t gotten to update for a while, but you try finding something worth writing about more than once a week (Steven can back me up on this). Or the time to do it. Anyhoo, there was one day this past week (and I forget which one) that I actually ate a salad. Now just hold the presses, because there is more to this sordid tale… I ate two salads in one day! And no it wasn’t a wurstsalat or potato salad; they were both honest-to-god, lettuce salads. There, I hope everyone is happy now.

Here’s a pic of the one I had for dinner with the Rollmops which, by the way, were excellent.



The little pickle (standard cucumber pickle) in the middle was a nice surprise. I think that is the Barth Oestricher Riesling that accompanied this fine meal.

On Wednesday (the 4th of July) I took a round of beef, browned it in a little oil, added a couple of potatoes and a bulb of fresh garlic, all except for the meat were purchased at the farmers market that morning. I had placed all of this in a cast iron skillet on top of a couple of sticks of fresh rosemary. I put it into the oven until it reached about 135 (deg. F).



I made a roux from the bits that were left in the pan. Then added a variety of mushrooms (also from the farmer’s market) and let them cook a bit before adding some wine.



It turned out to be a decent sauce, although the meat was a bit tough. I should have used a loin for this (and perhaps a recipe might have helped).



This weekend I wanted to take a small trip, not more than 2 or 3 hours one way. I was thinking about making a beer jaunt to Belgium. I’m trying to get a couple of guys from work to do a 2-3 day jaunt every couple of months to big brewery areas. So I thought I’d do a little recon for a future trip.

One of the guys I work with, who from this point on will be referred to as Lawrence (because, well… because, that’s his name), had told me that Bamberg was a good bier town, and would be a good destination for our group (which is up to two right now, but just wait until this hits the streets. People will be lining up to get in).

As I was researching Belgian beers on the web, I came across a site that had tons of info on a lot of European breweries and beers. Bamberg produces some great traditional Kelllar Biers, which are traditional cask conditioned beers and are served by gravity flow from the cask they are fermented in. And as it turns out, the surrounding area has the largest concentration of breweries in the world.

“You had me at ‘Kellar Bier’.”

So I left the Rheingau and all of the fancy pants wine stuff behind and headed for beer country on Saturday morning. Friday afternoon I had made a reservation to stay at a brewery Saturday night. Yes that’s right, spend the night at a brewery. There are quite a few of these Braugasthöfes, and they are true working breweries with guest rooms in adjoining buildings or upstairs. I made reservations at one outside of Bamberg. I was wondering if I’d be able to even go to sleep there. It would be like a kid trying to sleep on Christmas Eve. Every sound would wake me, and I’d look out the window just knowing that it was the brewmaster making those noises. And surely he would be doing this with the help of the bier elves. Perhaps he knew I was coming, and was preparing a special brew just for me. “I’ve been a pretty good boy”, I thought. Aside from that incident with the hooker in Portsmouth. I had to leave Virginia on account of that (thanks Walt), but surely he wouldn’t hold it against me. Not him, not here.

So I did my research, and made a list of places to check out. Friday night I took a last walk in the vineyards. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to return after seeing what I was inevitably going to see the next day. I did buy 4 bottles from a gartenstrausswirtschaft (I really don’t know what the hell this is but they sell wine there). I was feeling a little Ecclesiastical.

Saturday morning I packed my stuff, but got on the road later than I wanted to. There was also some traffic which just postponed my Vision Quest. I got to Bamberg early Saturday afternoon and the place was pretty damn crowded. I drove back to the Braugasthöfe and it seemed like it was further out of town than I had thought it was. There was also a decent size hill between the town and the Braugasthöfe, and I would be riding my new toy.



So I drove into town and parked at the Bahnhof (train station). I thought that I could probably find someplace closer to the downtown. First stop on my little Le Tour de Bier was the Bräuerei Spezial for some Rauchbier (beer made from smoked malt) and some grub. I walked into a neat little Biergarten. I was there for about 10 minutes and a waiter comes over with two biers in one hand and a plate in the other. He asks me if I want a beer, I say “ya”. I’m trying to decide on which type and I realize that he’s already put one of the biers in his hand down and is gone. I guess I don’t get to choose here. That’s OK because he’s given me a smoked lager. It’s pretty good but it does have a strange flavor. The smoke gives the bier has a slight tang, and it has an odd lingering aftertaste. It’s barely carbonated so I’m assuming that it’s gravity fed, but I did not go inside to verify this.

I wanted to get something to eat, but the kitchen closes at 13:30 and the whole place shuts down at 14:00. I am kind of baffled because he’s still bringing food to people, and I was here before 13:30, but was conveniently ignored until the kitchen closed. There are still all kinds of people coming in and the place is only open for another 20 minutes. Many of them are heading back out the door, so I guess I’m lucky to have even gotten a bier. This is an example of German customer service. The people are pleasant enough to you, but they are not going to try to go out of their way to make sure you are pleased in any way. But then they don’t work for tips over here, so I guess they don’t have to please you, or rather it doesn’t matter if they do or not. Well I guess I’m finished here; I pay the guy and leave and I make sure the SOB give me all of my change. The smoked bier was OK, but I really don’t see myself becoming attached to it.

Since it was the first nice day in about 2 weeks, I sat outside everyplace I went. In fact I didn’t even go into one of these places. I’ve already decided that I will come back, during the week when everything is working and open. Most places have little Biergartens outside that are very well shaded by oak and chestnut trees. I could get used to living here.

“You had me at 'Biergarten'.”

Next stop – Mahr’s Bräu. I arrived without too much trouble. I brought my GPS with me and it’s guiding me along on my bicycle. Although I do need to occasionally pull it out of my pocket to look at it, and who knows how long the batteries will last? The kitchen at this place is closed until 17:00. The building is on a street called Wunderburg, and I think there are 3 breweries on this street (so it is really pretty Wunderbar). I had a half liter of Ungespundetes. Now, I don’t have a clue what that word means, but the bier was very tasty. This place has been brewing since the 1600’s, and it is definitely a working brewery (although no work on Saturdays). Not big, but not a micro brewery by any means. It’s also right next to a church. The bier here is well respected in this area, and I’ve seen a number of Mahr’s Bräu signs at pubs and restaurants in town.

Then it was off to the Maisel Bräuerei, where I ordered a Kellarbier. This is a cask conditioned lager done in the old style, fed out of a barrel by gravity. It’s supposed to be one of the best in the area, and it doesn’t disappoint. A nice amber beer, not much carbonation because it’s gravity fed, a little cloudy because it’s unfiltered, a pleasantly crisp hoppy bite, this is a damn fine bier. I could get used to this; however, I don’t think it comes in bottles. There is some stern looking old man in sunglasses facing in my direction. I can’t tell whether he’s upset with my presence here or if he’s just an unhappy looking old guy. It makes no difference to me, because I just ordered the Pork Belly plate so I’m going to be here a while.

Before my meal comes I meet and American couple who I invite to sit down at my table. She’s a pharmacist at Landstuhl and he’s just picking up odd jobs and enjoying Europe while they’re here. Sounds like a good deal to me. They are both big beer fans and were telling me about a couple of trips they made to Belgium. We agree to hook up for any trips down the road. They are nice people, though a little confused politically.

When he started talking about gun control, I looked him in the eye and told him I was a member of the NRA. He backpedaled a bit. We didn’t get into any heavy discussions, because I did not bite every time they said something I disagreed with. This is all part of the Kinder-Gentler-Tony I’ve been trying to nurture. It’s hard sometimes, but I’m learning to not just blurt out the first rude comment that comes into my head.

After a while we decided to go to another pace in the downtown area that was on their list. They were on foot, I had my bike. I was going to meet them there, and had typed in the address into the GPS. I was wearing a shirt with a breast pocket, so I had the GPA unit there. Every once in a while an English-sounding woman would say, “In 200 meters, turn right onto the __strasse”. This would always elicit strange stares from the people walking on the sidewalk near me. I also needed to keep checking the map feature, because I was going through some areas that are not mapped for vehicles or are one way streets (the other way than I was traveling). When I would stop to look at the unit, it would think that I turned of the road and would recalculate the route, so I had to look at it while I was moving.

I was riding down a road and when I went to put the GPS back in my breast pocket, my backpack strap must have interfered just enough so that when I let it go I heard it fall on the street. “Shit!” I immediately stop and get off of the bike. When I looked at it there is a message in the screen that says that the memory card has been removed. So I’m looking on the road for this small blue plastic card. It’s about one inch square so it shouldn’t be too hard. I don’t see on the street near where I am though. As I’m bending down to look under a parked car, I hear a “SNIK SWIP” sound. I know immediately where my card is, because a car going in the other direction just ran over it.

I pick up the card and it doesn’t look any worse for wear, however the GPS system is not working. I meet my new friends walking to the next bar. I explain what happened, and she writes dwn her directions. I ride ahead of them to the next place and take some pictures in the part of town where we are going. I’m wondering how easy it will be to get back to Wiesbaden without the GPS, and how I will get back to the hotel/brewery without it. I don’t think I even have the address with me. After a Swarzebier (black beer) there, I decide I’ve got to leave. They are going to continue to a couple of other places. People keep telling us about this place that has a smoked bier that tastes like bacon, but I’ve got to keep my wits about myself. They don’t take to kindly to DUI over here, and definitely wouldn’t think it was funny for an American.

I return to the Bahnhöf, with the help of one set of directions. Once I get there, I load my bike into the truck, tie it down and set out to leave. As I get up to the exit structure I notice it looks a lot like the one on the way in. There is no place to put any money and it keeps spitting my ticket back at me. Luckily no one is behind me, so I back out of the chute. I stop a family getting into their car and the man shows me where I need to pay. The entire place is automated and you need to pay at a machine that puts some code onto your card allowing you to leave. It was only 4 Eros, for the parking, but all I had were 20 Euro bills. It accepted the bill and spit 16 Euros worth of coins back at me. I felt like I ht the slots in Vegas!

So I put the ticket into the machine and get out of the garage OK. I manage to find my way back to the road I needed to be on and even found my way back to the hotel/brewery. I go into the bar and hand my reservation to the bartender. They are having a wedding there this night and I’m scared that I’m not going to get a room. The guy is gone for quite a while (also not a good sign). When he comes back he tells me that because of the wedding they have no rooms. But he did call and find me another room nearby, he gives me directions and I thank him and leave. I get to the next place, and they put me into a double room, but only charge me for a single. It’s a little more expensive, but at this point I don’t care. I pay for my room and go park my truck, and sit down with two British guys who are drinking beer at an outside table. I’m still pretty full from the pork belly platter (which was excellent by the way, two big ol’ slabs of pork belly with a bunch of kraut, and some roasted potatoes), so I order another bier for each of us and we sat outside drinking a couple of biers and talking until around midnight.