©2007, Randy Mosher for All About Beer magazine
It must be something about the Reinheitsgebot. This ancient and hallowed document scribed onto goatskin, the symbol of all that is Germanic brewing, has intimidated us all into keeping to the straight and narrow—even though it technically doesn’t even apply to German themselves anymore. While we American seem willing to twist venerable British styles into unrecognizability, we have much more of a worshipful attitude regarding Continental lagers. Let’s see if we can change that.
First, we need to defuse the Reinheitsgebot. Despite the hype, it was not designed as a consumer protection law. It’s a tax-enforcement law. When hops and malt are the only brewing ingredients taxed, you have to force the brewers into using nothing else. Wheat beers were excluded because they were the exclusive right of royalty, and you don’t think they would be paying taxes would they? I’ll wait while you thumb your nose at the whole rigged system.
Second, it’s important to know that the Reinheitsgebot was a Bavarian law rather than a German one until about 1900, decades after Bavaria joined the German Union. The North had a rich tradition of beers more along the lines of Belgium before the great tide of Bavarian lager swept all into obscurity. A few—the wit-like gose comes to mind—have been revived, but for the most part the Germans are pathologically uncurious about their brewing past.
It is our right as Americans to seize on tidbits of history, jumble them up and invent whatever kind of story is appealing. So let’s get on with that and start thinking about the beery possibilities. Note that the quantities suggested are for five-gallon batches. All of these should be fermented conventionally with lager yeast and given a cold conditioning commensurate with their strength. Don’t forget the diacetyl rest, a couple of days at cellar temperatures to allow any excess diacetyl released by the yeast to be reabsorbed.
Namibian Pale Lager
Germany never had the vast colonial empire that other major European states did, but they did hold some African territories late in the nineteenth century. It’s interesting to think what they might have done to a pilsner style beer to make it hold up the to the rigors of a sea voyage. To a base of 100% pils malt brewed to a gravity of 1068 (16.6°P), I’d add a boatload of fine Hersbruck or Hallertau hops. Let’s say 60 IBU, which comes out to 3 oz at an hour for a 5-gallon batch, plus another three or four ounces right at then end of the boil. Feel free to dry hop this batch as it lagers. You could give the same beer the Czech treatment by using Saaz hops instead of the German varieties.
Porterbock
When England was kicking the world’s butt in terms of industrial development, the rest of Europe saw porter as the Next Big Thing and rushed to brew their own versions of it, and this persists to this day as Baltic porter. Or as beer historian Martyn Cornell argues, it really deserves the title “Polish porter,” since they’ve been the keepers of the flame. A good starting point is a doppelbock-strength 1075 (18.2 °P) beer brewed from a half-and half mix of pils and Munich malt, topped off by a pound of Carafa II, the very smooth röstmalz. A pound or two of dark Munich or melanoidin malt can add an extra layer of flavor. You can hop this as you see fit, since there were both hoppy and non-hoppy German porters in the day. Northern Brewer will lend its chocolatey charm as a bittering hop (1.5 oz gets you 47 IBU), topped off with Mt Hood or Crystal, two North American German-inflected varieties.
Novemberfest
Picture a rich, malty Oktoberfest dialed up a notch for the frosty winds of November. A bit stronger and darker, this matches descriptions of the famous erntebier (harvest beer) of Westphalia—the forefunner of Düsseldorfer Altbier. We’re shooting for 1063 (15.5 °P). Start with a half-and half mix of Munich and Vienna malts (with a little pils if you like), but add about 10% dark Munich or melanoidin. A half-pound of medium brewers’ caramel syrup will add a layer of complex flavor and lighten the body just a little. I’d keep the hopping relatively light on this one.
Tripel Maibock
I love the malty aroma and hop-tinged taste of maibock, but I am often underwhelmed by this style. What if we take a page from Belgian brewing and add some sugar for a crisper palate and double up on the hops? I would add 10% high quality pale ethnic sugar, perhaps Thai palm (sometimes called coconut sugar) sugar. Gravity should be in the tripel range at 1080 (19.3 °P). Hop using Perle for bittering (1 oz will get you 30 IBU), and finish with massive amounts of Saaz or the American variant, Ultra. A light dry-hopping may add a different facet to the aroma.
Angry European Red Lager
A few years back, red ales were iconic for the industrial breweries first ham-handed attempts to grab a piece of craft beer glory. Consciously or not, craft brewers have since taken red ale to a place they know the big brewers won’t follow: into the land of juiced-up, over-hopped ales of no small gravity. Here’s a recipe one of my Chicago cohorts and I recently brewed together on American Homebrewers Association BigBrew day.
5 gallons/19 Liters, OG: 1070/17°P, Alcohol: 5.5–6.5%/vol, Color: red amber, Bitterness: 65 IBU
All-Grain Recipe (calculated @ 75% efficiency)
5.5 lb (2.5 kg) Vienna malt
4 lb (1.8 kg) Munich malt
2 lb (907 g) Melanoidin malt
0.5 lb (227 g) Cara munich malt
0.75 lb (340 g) Special B (very dark crystal) malt
1.0 lb (454 g) Wheat malt
Mash an hour at 150 °F, then mash out at 170 °F. An extract + mini-mash can be made by substituting 5.5 lb (2.5 kg) amber dry malt extract for the Vienna and Munich malts.
1 oz (28 g) 60 min Perle 8% AA
2 oz (57 g) 30 min Hallertau 3.5% AA
2 oz (57 g) 10 min Saaz 2.5 % AA
You could lager this, or if you can’t manage temperatures well enough for a true lager, use one of the European ale yeasts and do a conditioning as cool as you can manage.