Bavarian Food And Beer

Beer kegs at the Paulaner brewery.

I'll start this post with some statements I never thought I would make. The beer in Bavaria was almost universally disappointing and was without doubt the part of my recent trip to Europe that fell farthest below my expectations. The food in Bavaria, on the other hand, was absolutely amazing; I loved almost every serious meal I ate while I was on vacation there. If you had asked me to describe my expectations for beer and food before I boarded my flight to Germany two months ago, I would have said I was looking forward to the beer more than most aspects of my trip and I was dreading the food. Something strange happened between the time I took off from Dulles Airport and arrived back in the United States ten days later.

When I arrived in Frankfurt and presented my passport to enter through immigration, I was asked the purpose of my visit. When I responded that I was on vacation, the follow on question was if I was visiting to drink German beer. I responded enthusiastically that I intended to drink a lot of German beer. About eight hours later, I was downing my first liter of dunkles beer at the Hofbrauhaus near the Marienplatz in Munich feeling a little let down and hoping that the rest of my beer drinking experience in Bavaria would be better. It was, but only a little.

Munich is surrounded by breweries; there are at least nine world renowned breweries in or near the city. The rest of Bavaria is not much different; there are breweries almost literally everywhere. Each brewery in Bavaria generally brews three types of beer: a helles, which is essentially a beer which tastes like Bud Light but with about twice the alcohol content; a dunkles, which is a little deeper in flavor and color than helles because of the roasted malt used in the brewing process; and a weissbier or German wheat beer, which is a chewy citrusy wheat beer.

My first mug of beer in Bavaria (in the foreground).

In addition to the breweries, Munich and the rest of Bavaria is full of bars and beer gardens. Each bar or beer garden is usually aligned with a single brewery meaning two things: you have no choice of beer brand when you sit down to drink and you typically have three types of beer to choose from: helles, dunkles and weissbier. That's it. That's all you can get. There are some exceptions to this rule. Sometimes, you can find a bar that serves a helles and dunkles brewed by one brewery and a weissbier brewed by a second but you still end up with three choices. Pretty daunting, especially if you consider it's impossible to find non-Bavarian beer in Bavaria. It made me realize the kind of creativity and variety in beer we can now get in the United States. It has to be one of the premier beer brewing nations, unconstrained by strict adherence to brewing tradition.

Before you lament my dilemma with only three beers to choose from, let me say that I really like German weissbier. It has a ton of delicious flavor with not too much yeast taste and the texture and body of the beer is wonderful. Think Samuel Adams Summer Ale if you need a point of comparison. It's so much more satisfying than Belgian style witbier, which I generally find watery and sometimes lacking in taste. Of all the weissbier I had on my trip, I thought the König Ludwig and Munich's Augustiner Bräu were the best although not by a lot. If you like the taste of weissbeer, I don't think you can really go too far wrong in Bavaria. But drinking weissbier for nine straight days was not why I came to Bavaria. 

Now because I like to work hard at finding good beer, I refused to let the situation presented to me keep me down. So I worked at it (meaning I kept drinking). Where I was frustrated with the limited beer selection in bars and beer gardens I visited, I found greater variety at breweries' official beer gardens. Hofbrauhaus offered four beers to choose from but Paulaner, Andechs Abbey and Hacker-Pschorr all offered at least five and the selection beyond the ubiquitous helles / dunkles / weissbeer choices were worth seeking out.

Both Hofbrauhaus and Hacker-Pschorr's beer gardens served a summer beer, which is a medium colored unfiltered lager with good body and far more taste than the helles or dunkles beer but without the sweeter yeasty taste you get from a weissbier. The Nockherberg beer available at the Paulaner beer garden had a similar profile and was perhaps the better of those three beers. I also found a bottled Hacker-Pschorr keller beer at the end of our Paulaner brewery tour (ironically) that was far tastier than the helles beer we were assaulted with at other places. I'd liken it more to a full bodied pilsener beer than the standard light German style lager we found elsewhere. Sometimes hard work pays off.

And then there's the food. If I had to give my impression of Bavarian food prior to my trip, I would have described it as meat and potatoes based and would have displayed very little enthusiasm for it at all. Add in to the equation an experience I had at an Alsatian restaurant in Paris on a trip I took in 2004 where I was served blood sausage and my piece of pork still had the pig's hair on it and I would say I was positively dreading the food possibilities on this trip. I've loved English, Dutch, Belgian and Finnish food on trips to Europe. I was absolutely not looking forward to food on this journey.

Spaetzle at Hacker-Pschorr's beer garden in Munich.

But I was surprised. And very pleasantly so. Of the first seven days I was in Bavaria, I think I ate sausages at some point on six of those days, before varying my diet just a bit the last three days. The sausages in Germany, be they frankfurters, bratwurst, knockwurst or whatever, are unlike American versions of those same foods. The grind on the meat is super fine, the casings snap and the taste is amazing. There's no gristle or hard crunchy things when you bite into them. I hate to say it was like eating hot dogs every day because the sausages tasted so much better but that's my only point of comparison. I do love hot dogs by the way. I would eat them every day if I thought it was healthy.

Sausages are eaten hot and cold in Bavaria. The cold salami I ate at Andechs Abbey and the weisswurst I ate on a beer and food tour in Munich were equally as good. And each type of sausage is paired with their own spicy or sweet mustard which improves the overall taste of the meat. I didn't see any blood sausage at any of the places I visited, although that's probably because I didn't visit the right (or wrong) places.

The best meal of the trip: pretzels and sausages at Andechs Abbey.

Besides the sausages, other highlights of Bavarian cuisine that I will long for include pretzels and spaetzle. The only real exposure I had to pretzels before this trip was at sporting events (think rock hard brown pretzels with tons of salt) and Rock Bottom Brewery (think fresh baked brown pretzels with tons of salt which get rock hard quick). The pretzels in Germany are works of art: crusty and slightly salty on the outside with warm doughy bread on the inside. And they are served with raw sliced white onion and a spiced cream cheese and butter mixture that is out of this world good. I would kill for some of that stuff right now. Also, for the record, raw white onion makes pretty much everything better. Call me crazy on that one.

I only managed to have spaetzle once on my trip, so the sample size is admittedly difficult to rely on, but the cheese spaetzle I had at the Hacker-Pschorr braureihaus was incredible. It was like a lighter, fluffier version of macaroni and cheese and it was absolutely delicious. If I ever go back, I'm having more spaetzle, if I can give up the sausages and pretzels.

Apple strudel in Salzburg.

Finally, a word about dessert. I'm not much of a dessert guy but I did have to have some apple strudel in both Germany and Austria (especially Austria). If there was a food I thought would be incredible but wasn't, it's the apple strudel. I found the three servings I had to be pleasant, with a lot of apple, but the traditional vanilla custard served with the strudel didn't do much for me and the plates I had were ultimately a little disappointing.

My advice to traveler seeking out good food and beer in Bavaria is this: find the kind of beer you like and drink your beer at brewery beer gardens if you have to; eat plenty of sausages and pretzels; and when presented a chance to eat cheese spaetzle, take it and don't look back. If you don't like it you can always order some more pretzels. Oh, and if you ever make it to Andechs Abbey, get some of the pork roast or convince a friend to get some and steal some of the crispy pork fat. Delicous. Prost!

Pilgrimage To Andechs Abbey

The chestnut tree canopy over Andechs' beer garden. Chestnut trees are traditional in German beer gardens.

The first recorded pilgrimage to the Holy Mountain at Andechs occurred in the year 1128 when Berthold II, Count of Andechs, ordered his subjects to make the journey to the site to venerate the holy relics held in the Chapel of St. Nicholas. Since that time, pilgrims have been visiting the site almost continuously and the town now has the distinction of being the oldest pilgrimage site in Bavaria. Today, more than 40,000 people in over 130 annual pilgrimages visit Andechs. This week, it was my turn to make the trip, starting out from Munich in the morning by train, continuing by taxi and arriving just before noon on the hill. Not exactly the same arduous trek pilgrims have made over the last millennium plus but it got me there just the same.

The history of what is now Andechs Abbey stretches all the way back to the tenth century when Count Rasso of Andechs brought to Bavaria from the Holy Land what would form the first collection of relics for the Abbey and placed them in the custody of the Chapel of St. Nicholas located in the castle that occupied the site at that time. The initial relics brought to the Chapel are significant: the belt owned by Mary Magdalene, St. John the Evangelist's tunic and several objects associated with Christ himself, including a twig from the crown of thorns; a segment of the scepter of mockery (who knew there was such a thing?); a remnant from the cross; and a piece from the Shroud of Turin. It's understandable therefore that folks would make the journey here to see this stuff and ask for intercession from the saints in their lives.

The timeline of Andechs' built environment since 1128 is a little complicated. I'll try to simplify. In the year 1246, the castle on the site was razed by the Wittelsbachs, the family that ruled Bavaria from 1180 to 1918, leaving only the Chapel intact. From that time on, construction occurred around the Chapel, recreating the site as a complex of buildings. A significant expansion to the church was executed in the Gothic style during the first half of the 15th century and construction continued until 1669 when lightning struck the the church's tower and most of the complex was destroyed by fire. The end of the 17th century was spent rebuilding the site to mostly what it is today. The last major construction event was the remodeling of the church in the Rococo style from 1751-1755 which left the place substantially similar to how it appears today.

Throughout all that history, the relics at the site survived, preserving the reason for pilgrims to visit. After the castle's destruction in 1246, they were thought by many to be lost until excavations near the Chapel's altar in 1388 found them (there are legends about a mouse dragging the relics back to the Chapel but I won't go into all that). Since then, the collection has been expanded to include the bridal gown of St. Elizabeth of Thurlingia (the church today is dedicated to her and St. Nicholas of Myra) and a fragment of the skull of St. Hedwig of Silesia. Gruesome and all very Game of Thrones-ish.

So anyway, back to my own pilgrimage of this week. In the year 1455, a monastery was established at Andechs. The monasteries are extremely important to Europe's history because during the Middle Ages, when western society as a whole took several developmental steps backwards, the monasteries scattered throughout Europe kept important historical documents and traditions, and learning in general, alive. One of the traditions the monasteries kept sacred during this time (and have ever since) is the tradition of brewing beer. Andechs is no exception. Brewing has been ongoing at the monastery at Andechs Abbey since the Middle Ages and the monks there have been renowned as producers of truly excellent beer since the mid nineteenth century. I couldn't go to Bavaria and skip this trip. This is my pilgrimage.

Today, the monks at Andechs regularly brew seven different kinds of beer. It was my sworn mission before going to taste all seven (which are delivered in half liter minimum glasses - about 20 fluid ounces, so seven half liters is just shy of 12 bottles of beer) but I was unable to fulfill that promise to myself since they only bottle the Bergbock Hell and they ran out of the Wiessbeer Dunkel. Being out of the Weissbeer Dunkel took the wind out of my sails a little and I only managed six half liters this day.

But before settling into the Braustuberl for a few liters of beer, I checked out the Abbey's church, which is perched prominently on the highest point of the site. The church is gorgeous outside, typical in form to a lot of other German churches with a steep roof to shed snow and the distinctive onion-esque dome that appears so often throughout the Bavarian countryside. The interior of the church is full on Rococo. Every surface drips with ornament and ostentatious-ness. My friend Mike commented that Christ might not be happy with the amount of excess on display inside the church and he may well be right. Take that however you will.

The scenery around the church is also gorgeous. The view of the German countryside from the hill is amazing. It's difficult to believe when you are out there that we are in the 21st Century sometimes. The day we were there was super clear. You could literally see for miles and miles and miles. But enough about the beauty of the place. The quest was for beer right? Here's what I found.

Round One: Doppelbock Dunkel for me (foreground); Spezial Hell for my friends Bryan (half liter) and Mike (liter).

Round One: Doppelbock Dunkel
The braustuberl at the Abbey had three choices of beer: a Spezial Hell (light colored lager beer), a Weissbeer Hell (light colored wheat beer) and a Doppelbock Dunkel (dark bock style beer). I opted for the darkest of the three as my first round and found it a tad disappointing. I like doppelbocks, especially those that are not cloyingly sweet, which this one was not. Unlike some of the beers we had in Munich over the first few days of this trip, the beer had some body and left some taste on my tongue after I swallowed. But not enough.

Round Two: Wiessbeer Hell
In 1487, Germany created the Reinheitsgebot, or German Purity Law (for beer) which stipulated that beer sold in Germany could only contain three ingredients: water, malted barley and hops. Yeast it seemed at this time might have been the unknown fourth ingredient in all beer. Immediately, this put the Bavarian tradition of weissbeer (or wheat beer) in jeopardy so an exception emerged for Bavaria's wheat beer producers. I like wiessbeers quite a lot, although they sometimes tend to be a bit banana-y for me (don't like bananas at all) so while I was not super excited about German beers before this trip, I was looking forward to tasting some weissbeer. Andechs' version was good, but not great. It was sweet but not banana-y (thank God) but lacked the body of some other German weissbeers I have had.

Round Three: Spezial Hell
The Spezial Hell brewed at Andechs is a typical German golden lager beer, although with a little more taste I thought than Augustinerbrau's version we had in Munich and about tied with Hofbrauhaus' and just a bit behind Hacker-Pschorr's versions. The helles beer style in Germany is quite close to what inspired most American lager beers. They are mostly drinkable and often fairly tasteless. Andechs' version was better than most.

Round Four: Export Dunkel
A dunkel in Germany is pretty much the same as a helles beer but is made with darker roasted malt. There could be (and probably should be) a little more flavor in the beer from the roasted malt. To try Andechs' version of this beer, we walked down the hill a little to the Abbey's beer garden. This beer was good, better than the other dunkels I had in Munich to date on this trip. I could really taste the roasted malt on my tongue. I'd definitely order this again.

Round Five: Volbier Hell
The last version of the Abbey's beer that I tasted before going back and repeating past glasses was simply a sip from my friend Bryan's glass. It's a lighter, more tasteless version of the Spezial Hell. I have no use for this beer.

Look, what do you expect? I'm a tough customer when it comes to beer. I'm glad I went to Andechs for the day. I feel more connected to a part of beer history that I hadn't experienced before my trip. Over the past twenty years I've visited all sorts of breweries, from the biggest single site brewery in the world (Coors) to the last true dusty lambic brewery in Belgium (Cantillon). But I'd never visited a monastery which has been brewing beer for centuries before yesterday. I'd encourage anyone to go and spend the day knocking back a few just like I did if you are ever in Bavaria.

This carving is one of the first things that greets visitors to Andechs Abbey. Wish I had one at home.