The night before my most recent trip to one of the most rad cities on the planet, Berlin, I made a quick stop to my favorite beer joint in Boston, Deep Ellum. I came to say farewell to a good friend who was off to take a dream job at the lovely little brewery outside of Chicago known as Three Floyds. It was August, and it was hot. Inside it was even hotter! And I’m not just talking the usual Deep Ellum eye candy, (and, by the way the eye candy at this place knows beer speak! And that is something!) I’m talking about the Brauerei Weihenstephan Berliner Weiss 1809 that I knew was waiting for me. All I had to do was to come and get this hottie! I did. A guy with a web site called cookingwithcantillon surely loves his sours! I do. I got the Weiss, an order of deviled eggs, and a pretzel with Gritty’s Black Fly stout cheese sauce. Man was I in heaven. I looked around and got the chills. Here I was enjoying one of the great old beer styles on Earth in Boston , and in a 1/2 days time I would be in the city of its birth, Berlin, sampling it in a whole very different way. I smiled, bragged a bit to the bar tendress about how I was to be in Berlin in a few hours, and finished off what might be one of the worlds greatest refreshers. Cut to Berlin.
At the close of one of the best trips to Europe ever, I finally got my shot at Berliner Weissbier. I had been all along the beer trail for over a week and sampled things that one will never see here in the states. As each town in Germany changed, so did the beer. One minute I’m camping out along the Baltic Sea in North West Germany drinking with a bunch of Bavarians, listening to the music gently pumping out into the dream like setting that was the Annual Zappanalle fest. And the next minute I’m in Cologne, sitting outside in a cafe under one of the most incredible Cathedrals in all of Europe drinking a Kolsch! This day, my last in the great Gothic city that is Berlin, I turned off one of the main drags in West Berlin, just a walk down from the bombed out Cathedral that looks much as it did at the close of WWII, (can’t remember the name of this street) and parked my body outdoors at a cafe facing, as always in Europe, (the sidewalk) on the corner of Meinekestrabe Street. I was fully aware of just how very alive I was. I greeted the most gorgeous waitress ever , and proudly ordered my Berliner Weisse. And yes, I did pronounce the letter W with the sound V thank you very much. The beer arrived with a huge red straw and I was asked what kind of syrup I wanted, red (raspberry) or green (made from wood-ruff-a very aromatic, woodsy smelling concoction.) I told the waitress that I wanted it the way the locals took it. I thought the real Berliners would certainly drink it straight. I was wrong. I explained that I would like it with out syrup. The Waitress pretty much begged me to take the syrup. Ok, I thought. This is the way they do it. I’m game. I chose the green as it is one of my favorite colors. And the waitress left me to “adjust the seasonings.” I poured in a jolt and watched it pretty itself up. I looked around wondering what to do with the massive red straw, and decided, like the American I was that I was to drink it through the straw. All heads turned my way! I continued drinking, slowly realizing that the straw was for stirring and not for drinking through! I finished my beloved Berliner Weissbier which had been transformed into what seemed a kiddie cocktail, paid my check, and continued down Meinekestrabe for a quick beer at the Hard Rock and a look at the famed Jimi Hendrix (crossing into East Berlin) photo, and then across the street for a relaxing goodbye to Berlin massage. So, here in Berlin this sour is cherished with a bit of syrup. I have now lived this reality. But, I still prefer it in its original, wild, funky sour form. In this form Berliner Weissbier is the “Champagne” of Germany. And I am certain that this was the form Napoleon’s army enjoyed celebrating its occupation of Berlin some 200 years ago (or so the story goes.) Nevertheless, that was then and this is now. I want to discover what the locals are doing. And I want to discover this in any town I am in-anywhere. Of course, my next trip to Berlin will not be complete without a stop at Alt-Berliner Weissbierstube, a cafe (in the former East Berlin) specializing in Berliner Weisse. I am told this will complete my education into what is one of the oldest (and sadly vanishing) styles of beer in the world. For now, here in Boston I’ll pop a bottle of 1809, and re-live this whole story, sans syrup, (I just love my sour) and begin my longing to be again walking the streets, feeling the vibe, and being part of one of the worlds truly great cities-Berlin
Prost!
