Pale Czech brethren reveal a deep past
As Jannik Parmovâ ventured into Boulder recently, seeking an aromatic, grassy Pilsner, he had not intended to host a beer history lesson.
Parmovâ, a tour and beer guide in the Czech Republic, is a fan of Czech beer. He was only too happy to explain to other patrons at Sanitas Brewing that late January evening why Pilsner should never be considered a “German beer.” Rather, true Pilsner breathes the tradition and ingredients native to one region east of Bavaria.
Pilsner emerged in the Bohemian city of Pilsen (Plzen) in what was then the western Habsburg Empire. The yellow-gold lager, created by Josef Groll in 1842, has since become so popular that it is now emulated all over the world, from nearby Germany to South America, and across the United States.
According to Parmovâ, while four basic ingredients are common to all beer— malt, yeast, water, and hops —the secret of Pilsner lies below the fold. It cannot come from any water, or any malt, or yeast or hop without a designation of origin. Rather, Pilsner reflects a time, place and people.
It begins with a wort of spring water low in minerals (i.e. only trace calcium or magnesium), stored in centuries-old tower reservoirs built with local stone, and Moravian fine-hulled pale malt, into which is introduced direct descendants of yeast Groll cultured (which according to legend was originally smuggled from a German monastery), and seasoned with the only Czech hops: Saaz, which imparts a unique bitterness, curt lemony hint, and an intense aroma that emotes the sentimentality of an agricultural era piqued by nature’s mercurial kiss.
Using variants of these four ingredients results in a very refreshing beer with low alcohol content, golden hue, and plenty of foam, but only a “pilsen-style” blond lager. True Pilsner bleeds Czech earth, air and spirit. Sanita’s Everyday Mountain Pils comes pretty close though, according to Parmovâ.
He noted few other Czech styles are even known or made outside his homeland. And many Czech beers are further misidentified as their German cousins. Among those are the Czech Amber and Dark. Two older indigenous styles, however, are found nearly nowhere outside the region: Kvasnicové— a yeasty Pilsner progenitor, and Pšeni né— an unfiltered wheat lager.
Czech Amber, is pale ruddy brown and sometimes referred to as polotmavý or “half dark” (i.e. not “as dark” as Czech Dark). It is typically brewed with pale malt and trace amounts of caramel malt. Both Amber and Dark styles have a “spicy” hop flavor and bready Czech yeast esters. Amber is similar for most palates to a Vienna Lager, but instead of German ingredients, like earthy Hallertau or Tettnang hops, it contains Moravian malt and Saaz hops, resulting in pleasantly soft graham cracker notes and a lighter roasted malt character than the German lager.
Czech Dark, “Cerné,” is similar to and often confused with Munich Dunkel, though the Saaz hops, rather than stolid German varieties, and softer brewing water are identifiable for some palates. Americans traveling Eastern Europe have noted the style is reminiscent of a less fruity, cleaner version of a porter made with bottom-fermenting lager yeast. The base malt in the style is similar to Czech Amber, with the darker color coming from debittered roast dark malts, which impart Anise or licorice notes in some brands.
Kvasnicové pivo (Yeast Beer), though a solid Pilsner base, is cloudy due to the introduction of “young beer”, i.e. fresh wort and yeast, triggering a double fermentation. Its hue is often light, though some contain a dark young beer. Travelers compare it to He- feweizen and find it similar to German “krausen” style ales, with an extra bread-yeasty lager nose and an organic tartness like sourdough.
Pšeni né pivo (Wheat beer) pre-dates Pilsner, and at the time was “the” style for which Czech brewers were known. Though rarely made these days, the style is increasing in popularity anew as regional brewers seek to reconnect with historic Czech brewing. Similar to Belgian Wit, this style expresses clove, banana and vanilla aromas, with a lighter overall body. Wheat comprises at least one-third of the grist, producing a lither mouthfeel than Wit with subdued hop character. Like the Kvasnicové, the style has forward yeast esters with a crisp tartness.
As a self-proclaimed ambassador of true Pilsner and the uniqueness of Czech brewing, Parmovâ has stories to tell. So, too, can every pint, if you pause to explore the story behind your glass, if you take a moment to breathe the history alive in your brew.