All About The Magi

I went to Cologne to do two things: drink some kölsch and see the Cathedral. That's it. One day. In and out. The first one didn't work out so well. Despite sampling six different types of Cologne's endemic beer, I found the stuff mostly forgettable. The Cathedral, or Dom (in German), on the other hand was anything but. From the moment we stepped off the train from Düsseldorf to the second we stepped back inside the station on our way home, we barely lost sight of the Dom. And it was worth going to Cologne from the first sighting to our last goodbye early Sunday morning.

Cologne is an old city. The oldest in Germany actually. It was first settled along the west bank of the River Rhine by the Romans in the first century B.C. About 100 years later (around 40 A.D.) they got serious about building a real permanent type of town on the spot and about four decades after that, they brought water into the city by building an aqueduct. It grew from there, becoming a regional capital of the Gallic portion of the empire and eventually having a pretty good sized population of about 20,000 people. 

As the Roman empire started to crumble around its edges, the city of Cologne was sieged and sacked and reclaimed by Rome and then sieged and sacked by an entirely different group of people. After about 100 years of that sort of stuff in the year 455, it was claimed by the Salian Franks and enjoyed a little bit of peace for a few hundred years. That is, until the vikings burned the whole place to the ground in the late ninth century. 

The west face of the Dom at night.

The first cathedral in Cologne was built in the fourth century on a spot pretty much right where the Dom stands today. It was eventually replaced by a second cathedral before gothic cathedral fever started to sweep over Europe and Cologne decided it had to have one too. I'm sure the previous sentence is way understating the gravity of the decision to build a new cathedral in the middle ages. Cologne had been an important city in the church hierarchy for centuries and just after the turn of the new millennium they found (or maybe stole is a better word) a really good reason to start building themselves a swankier church. I do think there was a little gothic cathedral envy driving their decision though. It's a personal theory, I know.

The first foundation stone of the current Dom was laid on August 15, 1248. Like most gothic cathedrals around Europe, construction was not rapid. The eastern side of the cathedral was built first; that took 84 years. Not bad, actually, for gothic cathedrals. What they got for four score and four years was a functional church, courtesy of a temporary wall to enclose what was already built. 

They kept going, starting on the magnificent western front in the middle of the 14th century and getting as high as the belfry on the south tower before stopping in the year 1473. And boy can they stop work in Cologne. They left it that way, with the crane still atop the tower, for 400 years until the citizens of Cologne decided enough was enough and raised the funds to finish the building. Work recommenced in 1842 and in just 38 short years, construction was complete. 632 years for one cathedral!

The result is magnificent. Cologne Cathedral is by far the biggest building in the city. And if that statement is untrue (which it may very well be; I mean I didn't do any research here), it acts like it's the biggest and most important structure around. How does a building act that way, you might ask? It's just there. It's huge. It's as if it landed in the middle of the altstadt (or center city) like it was placed there from above. Everything around it is clearly less important. The Dom is the biggest, the widest, the most ornate thing in sight. It carries itself as if Cologne itself belongs to the Cathedral, not the other way around. It helps that it's black as night I guess. It's pretty freaking badass, if that's in any way appropriate to write about a house of worship.

Tallest building in the world 1880-1884.

Let's talk some stats, shall we? The nave of the Dom is 142 feet high, which is good for 11th tallest in the world. Not impressed by that? The highest (Beauvais which we visited just a couple of years ago) is just 14 feet taller. Not a lot in it. The towers on the west facade of the Cathedral though place better than the nave does. At 516 feet, the two spires were the tallest structure in the world from the time it was completed until it was surpassed four years later by the Washington Monument. On the list of tallest churches in the world, it still places fourth and it's only 14 feet shorter than the tallest. This thing's pretty big and it shows. Particularly on the exterior.

The black, by the way, is not dirt. It's caused by the reaction between the sandstone that the Cathedral is made out of and the acid (sulphuric) rain that falls on the city. It makes it look really...well, gothic.

Before we head inside, it should be noted that the south tower of the Dom is open for visitors and who could pass up climbing to close to the top of one of the tallest gothic cathedrals in the world? Well, not me certainly. After making it to the top of Notre-Dame de Paris and Chartres earlier in my cathedral climbing history and scaling both St. Paul's in London and the Duomo in Florence, there was no way I wasn't climbing Cologne Cathedral.

I'll say right now, it's a tough climb. The lower portion is all spiral staircase in a tight stone (and of course graffiti covered) circle. You might need to rest once or twice or maybe even three times. Make sure you climb on the inside of the stair, since it's about impossible to make folks coming down do that; let them have the outside. The initial climb takes you to the bells level. Two climbs further, including the second on a self supported stair in the center of the open tower, and you get to the top.

The view from St. Pauls is gorgeous. The view in Florence is magnificent. You can see the gargoyles up close at Notre-Dame and the French countryside from the top of Chartres. Cologne is not as good as any of these.

Looking up into the south tower of the Dom.

That's not to say that there's no value in climbing the Dom and that's not to say that Cologne is not a gorgeous city. You can still get some great views but the openings in the tower are really so small that your looks are really more like glimpses. That and the scaffolding on the north tower and the fencing preventing you from jumping off on the south tower either blocks the openings right in front of you or shrouds the sculptures on the adjacent tower.

You can look back over the entire Cathedral and see the rail bridge that connects the west side of the Rhine to the rest of Germany which for me was important because that's how we entered the city the night before. You can also get some very oblique looks at some of the angels carved in the other tower. Whoever made the angels obviously used a different kind of stone because they are not the same inky black as the rest of the tower. The bells of the Cathedral are pretty cool too, if you are into that sort of stuff.

From the south tower looking east.

Looking down from the south tower to the angels on the north.

But the real treasure of Cologne Cathedral is inside, and I mean treasure in every sense of the word. Apparently, and I'll address the plausibility of all this in a couple of paragraphs, the Cathedral has the remains of the three wise men (Gaspar, Balthasar and Melchior) who visited Jesus in Nazareth while he was swaddled and lying in a manger. That acquisition was, in fact, the entire reason why the folks in Cologne decided they needed a new house of worship. How did they get these precious relics, you might ask? Well the same way any self-respecting house of worship gets its relics: by stealing them.

Way back in 1164 the Archbishop of Cologne was handed a package by Frederick Barbarossa who at that time was the Holy Roman Emperor. The package was of course whatever was left of Gaspar and company. Where did the emperor get these remains? Apparently in northern Italy, from the Basilica of Sant'Eustorgio in Milan. And I assume they weren't gifted to him out of generosity, if only based on the fact that Cologne has since seen to it that some (but not all) of the remains have been returned.

There are so many questions here for me. First, how did all the remains of the magi end up in one spot? After the first one died, was he buried or were his remains somehow stored somewhere? And if they were stored, who kept them? Was it the two remaining wise men (assuming they were even together) or someone else? And who would keep the remains of a dead person hanging around? Granted...the importance of the bones (or whatever constitutes remains here) would be understood at the time of death I guess.

More questions. Was one person responsible for collecting the bones of all three men? What a gruesome assignment that would be if it was true. And did he (assuming it was a he) have permission to do so? Was the collection contested by the family? Or did someone go around collecting (i.e. exhuming) these things years later? And if so, how do we know he got the right remains? I mean, that's a question overall, right? How does anyone know these things are legit? I'm assuming there's no chain of custody documentation on these.

I don't think my questions are going to be answered and I guess they don't really need to be if I can suspend belief and just appreciate the imagery related to these three men all over the Dom. They occupy central positions in the stained glass windows on the south side of the building (shown above) and in carvings in the back of the altar (shown way above in the first pic of this post). They are also represented in a gold (and I mean real gold not just gold colored) box in the apse at the west end of the Cathedral. Of course, that box and the contents of it is the reason why this place is so important as a church for Christianity today. 

You can get relatively close to this box containing the relics, but rest assured, your views will be from the other side of a really high and really sturdy looking fence and what I am sure is a pretty heavy and thick plexiglass or maybe better box. There's no need to take chances with this kind of thing. I took the photograph below by sticking my hand through the railing and clicking the button with my finger. It's awesome that we have these devices to take these kinds of pictures that make it look like we are a glass case away from something this important.

The bones, or whatever they are, of the three wise men aren't why we went. I pledged to get to Cologne Cathedral a long time before I even realized the Dom had anything to do with the magi. For us, the predominance of the wise men in the building just ended up being a bonus. We found some other surprises along the way.

First, there are some incredible mosaic floors in this place. They run pretty much the entirety of the ambulatory at the west end of the Cathedral from the crossing on the north side to the same point on the south side. The tiles that make up the pictures on the floor are super-small in spots but also involve limited mortar. The result of that combination are some super crisp images made up in the floor, including a couple showing a model of the Cathedral and a plan (shown below). The whole image below is maybe six feet in diameter meaning the plan of the Cathedral which is super detailed is actually just about 18 inches to two feet high. It's not alone in its intricacy.

Mosaic floors in the Cologne Cathedral.

St. Sebastian, on the right, in pre-martyred status.

We also found some old friends in the stained glass, like at least two St. Georges (who we previously found most memorably at San Giorgio Maggiore in Venice) and St. Sebastian, who we ran into a lot around Rome, particularly in the catacombs bearing his name on the Via Appia Antica. St. Sebastian is one of those figures who keeps cropping up again and again and again in many places we've been over the past few years, usually in random art galleries. He's a lot easier to spot with a bunch of arrows sticking out of him which is how he was almost martyred (he survived the arrows but not the clubs later on in life). We needed the English language self-guided tour brochure to help us in the Dom as Sebastian is mercifully arrow free in their windows. I love it when reminders of past trips crop up on subsequent trips.

Cologne for us lasted about 36 hours. We didn't leave the altstadt except to come in from the airport and get out to the (different) airport. We came to drink beer and love it. We didn't. We also came to see the Cathedral and we ended up on some level I think loving it. Our visit to the Dom took probably about three hours but in many ways our entire visit was about the Cathedral. I don't think there was a single spot where we couldn't see just a little of it, usually one or both of the very distinctively vertical towers on the west front. We could see it from just outside our hotel, we could see it from the furthest point we went from the Alter Markt and we could even see it from inside the train station. This building's presence is like few others I've seen in any place. It was truly impressive.

I'm glad we went. We will probably never go back to Cologne. The list of places to see is just too long and the beer and the food were just not worth it. But we took a little piece of Cologne with us by picking up a green and blue pop art-like image of the Dom which now sits on our mantel at home. We also have a set of three wise men Christmas ornaments that we found in the Cathedral gift store. We couldn't resist. Those stylized likenesses of Gaspar, Balthasar and Melchior will remind us of that city each holiday season. Cologne and those three figures are forever linked for me.

The Dom at night from the west.

From the east looking at the rear at just before sunset.

One last look from Platform 10 at the Cologne Hauptbahnhof.

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How We Did It
The Dom is located slightly north of center of the altstadt or old city of Cologne on the west bank of the Rhine. However you make your way to the city, it's pretty much impossible to miss the Cathedral. 

Opening hours are 6 am to 7:30 pm in winter (that's November to April) and 6 am to 9 pm in Summer (which is the rest of the year) Monday through Saturday. Sunday tourist hours are shorter (1 pm to 4:30 pm). The Cathedral is closed or partially closed during services and services are not only on Sundays. There was one just starting as we were on our way but we were told (in English) that we were welcome to stay. The best thing to do is probably to check their website. 

Admission to the Cathedral is free. Guided tours are available, including in English, at 2:30 pm daily and additionally at 10:30 am Monday through Saturday at a cost of €8,00 per person. We skipped the guided tour in favor of the self-guided tour brochure that you can pick up near the front doors of the Cathedral for a mere €1,00 which we thought was awesome. I don't know what else the guided tour would have told us and it probably wouldn't have been at our own pace. 

If you decide you want to climb the south tower on the west front of the Dom, the climb up the tower will set you back €4,00 per adult and it's probably worth it. Far be it from me to discourage anyone from climbing a building.

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Kölsch

Two posts in a row about beer. I swear I don't just travel to drink. Well, not always anyway.

Sometimes when we travel, we find out what is on the other side of the city or state or country or ocean or world isn't quite what we thought it would be. Travel is, at its heart, an exercise in discovery with no guaranteed outcomes. It's all personal and we have to go to find out for ourselves what it's like away from home. On our best trips, we experience something more amazing than we could ever imagine. In the worst of these situations, we hope we learn and don't repeat our mistakes. 

And then sometimes we may end up going back to Germany to find the exact same thing that disappointed us in the first place. Some of us may learn slower than others.

On the very first trip I took right after I started this blog in 2013, I made my very first trip to Germany. Or more precisely, Bavaria, the epicenter of Germany's grand beer brewing tradition. Sure, there was some history and some nature and some food on the agenda but let's be honest, it was mostly about the beer. Again, I swear I don't just travel to drink.

I didn't like it so much. Not Germany. Or Bavaria. They were fine. I mean the beer. I just didn't like it much at all. I found it bland, unimaginative and, worst of all, consistently available with very little to no other choice. I was shocked. Here we are in one of the world's great brewing spots and we are struggling to find something with taste that we could actually appreciate drinking. If there was any silver lining to this lesson, the food in Bavaria was fantastic. We may have been disappointed by the beer, but not by what we ate. Surprise on both counts. If I came home with one lesson from that trip, it was that German beer was not worth traveling for.

Fast forward five years and I've booked a flight and a couple of nights hotel in Cologne, Germany on the end of a week or so in the United Kingdom. Why am I visiting Cologne? Well, basically to see the cathedral and drink beer. Yes, I went back to Germany to drink German beer. What am I thinking? I'm thinking beer in Cologne is better than beer in Munich and there's only one way to find out.

Bottles of Sion Kölsch in the refrigerator in our hotel lobby with the silhouette of the Cathedral on the label.

In my defense here, I didn't go to Cologne just to drink beer. I went to Cologne to drink kölsch, and kölsch is not Bavarian-style beer. And if there's a traditional style of German beer that I like, it's kölsch. When I first got the notion of spending a day in Cologne I imagined a bright sunny summer or fall day with me sitting in a cafe along the Rhine River with a full glass of delicious kölsch gazing with wonder at the city's Dom, or Cathedral. Sounds pretty cool, right?  And I figured all I would need was a single day. Then I could go home happy.

So what's so special about kölsch? Well, of course I have something to say about that.

Elsewhere in this blog, I've written about what I consider the three great brewing traditions in the world. The Belgian and English brewing traditions are largely ale-based (meaning top-fermenting yeast that produces foam on the top of the brew while it converts sugar to alcohol and carbon dioxide) while the German brewing tradition is largely lager-based (meaning bottom fermenting yeast). Ale yeast generally works at milder to warmer temperatures; lager yeast generally works at colder temperatures. 

For most of all recorded brewing history, most beer brewed in the world was either brewed as an ale or a lager with the appropriate and corresponding yeast and fermentation conditions. Most beer except the beer in western Germany, that is, where folks brewed beer using top-fermenting ale yeast but after the initial fermentation stored it below ground in colder cellars to age (or lager). In Cologne where this process started, they eventually called this beer kölsch. It is one of only two types of beer in the world that is traditionally brewed this way. The other is altbier which is native to Düsseldorf, Germany just about 25 miles from Cologne. There's a connection but I won't go into that here.

Very happy people with a 5 liter tower of kölsch at Brauhaus Sünner im Walfisch. With 5 liters, I'd be happy too.

All this may seem like some awesome science, that the residents of Cologne decided hundreds and hundreds of years ago that they would go out to buy some top fermenting yeast at their local homebrew store and start cooking up a batch of homemade suds. Not so much at all. The fact of the matter is the first beers were accidental. There were likely bread mixtures left out and forgotten and then tasted (I mean why would someone do that?) and whoever was doing the sampling found out they liked how it made them feel. 

From there, folks just started leaving cooked grain and water mixtures out exposed to the open air and by magic they just turned into beer. It was only later when yeasts were discovered that brewers really started to refine and control how they made their product. Beer producing nations stuck to their traditional styles for centuries. Eventually, like today, brewers began experimenting and hybridizing all sorts of different brewing traditions. You can now find all sorts of different varieties of beer in locations very far from each style's origin. I guess that's probably a good thing. But there's a lot of value for me in drinking beer types where they were invented. Thus...Cologne.

So what does all this top fermenting / cold cellaring do to a beer? Well, the kölsch beer that is produced and consumed in Cologne is a straw colored, lightly hopped, easy drinking session beer. It's likely very similar to what most people think of when they think about having a mass produced American beer but the ale yeast used in the production should give the beer a softer and fruitier finish. In its best versions, it's absolutely delicious to drink, particularly as a refreshing beer on a summer day.

Despite all that history, people haven't been drinking beer with the kölsch name for all that long. The Sünner brewery in Cologne was the first to use that name in 1918 to describe a beer they had been serving at that point for the prior 12 years. These days, the name kölsch is supposed to be confined to beers of that style brewed in Cologne. Or so said 24 brewers in that city in 1986. The rest of the world seems to have not noticed that much.

Filling the kölsch glasses at Brauerei Päffgen.

All that clear? Good. No more history, I promise. For this post.

There is a wonderful romanticism to drinking beer in Germany. In Munich and Bavaria, it's the idea of sitting in the summer or fall under canopies of chestnut trees drinking oversized mugs of helles or dunkles or weissbier and talking with friends while munching on a fresh pretzel with spiced cream cheese and raw onions. Indeed one of my favorite memories from that 2013 trip was sitting in the lower beer garden at Andechs Abbey doing just what I described above. It was absolutely idyllic. Except for what we were drinking, which had about no taste whatsoever.

In Cologne, the joy of beer is related to the ritual associated with the serving and drinking of kölsch. You won't find beer gardens at every brauhaus in the city and you certainly won't find chestnut trees to sit beneath. You also won't find mugs of any sort. Kölsch is not served in mugs; it's served in 200 milliliter glasses (that's about 6-3/4 fluid oz or just more than half a standard bottle or can of American beer). You can only get it in this size. There's no small, medium or large sizes. Just 200 ml.

Doesn't that make for quick drinking? you might ask. Why, yes, it does. And here's where the ritual comes in. The servers are constantly prowling the floor of the brauhaus with trays of kölsch to replenish the thirsty drinker's supply of beer. And by trays, I mean specially designed circular vessels with a central handle (for easy carrying) and about a dozen or so spots to hold a 200 ml glass of sweet kölsch. These glasses are filled directly from the keg by the waiter or bartender (depending on the establishment) and are run right out into circulation to keep their thirsty customers quenched.

There are a couple of other finer points to this ritual that make it even better. Don't know how to order a glass of kölsch? Don't worry, you will typically not have to order. You will just get a glass popped down in front of you on a coaster and marked with a hash in pencil. Each hash marks a beer served. Glass empty? Don't worry about that, either. The next time your server comes by your table, you'll get a fresh one. You won't have to order anything at all. When you have had your fill (or just want a rest), just take a coaster off the table and leave it on top of your glass. That means you are done. Or done for now. All of this is what I wanted in Cologne and I wanted the beer to taste amazing.

More kölsch? Why yes, don't mind if I do. Got to keep the customer satisfied. Brauerei zur Malzmühle.

Earlier in this post I described my ideal Cologne experience, as imagined before I actually visited the city. There were a few problems with that dream, the first one being (as I have already described) that kölsch is not served in regular sized glasses. There would be no leisurely nursing a glass of beer in Cologne for really very long at all. It's more of a shooter experience. Not that there's necessarily anything fundamentally wrong with that.

I also wasn't going to be drinking beer in a cafe along the banks of the Rhine while checking out the Cathedral from afar. Two reasons for that: (1) there didn't seem to be any cafes along the banks of the river and (2) the Cathedral also isn't on the river. I didn't know either of those things. Now that I've been there, I do.

So with all of that wanderlust killed...was the beer in Cologne really that much better than the beer in Munich? Unfortunately, the answer is no, it is not. I told you I was a slow learner.

So of course the real truth is not that black and white, right? Did we find some beer worth drinking in Cologne? Sure we did. Did we find some beer I'd be happy to never have again? Yep, we got that too. There are a good number of breweries in Cologne and we managed to make our way to four different brauhauses and find time to drink a couple of bottles of kölsch in our less than two days in town. I can tell you are impressed with how thorough I'm trying to be about this subject.

The sign for the Sünner brauhaus on Salzgasse near the west bank of the Rhine.

I won't waste a whole lot of words on the kölsch I didn't find appealing but in the interest of public safety, I feel it's my moral responsibility to warn other unsuspecting beer fans off the stuff.  The kölsch on the top of my list prior to my setting foot in Cologne was Päffgen. I'd read that their brew was a little hoppier than others you might find in the city so we made our way out to their brewery on the west side of the altstadt (or old city) on our second night in town. I was honestly intrigued by the concept of hoppy kölsch and I have to say after downing three or four with my schnitzel at Brauerei Päffgen I still am intrigued because I still haven't tasted any. The only thing worse than the beer at Päffgen was the service. 

We had a little better luck at Pfaffen (I didn't intend to find similarly named establishments, although honestly when I entered this place I was looking for Päffgen) just a bit south of the Cathedral, although quite frankly, it may have been the exact same beer served under a different name. There was a note on the coasters in the place about Pfaffen serving Päffgen beer, although it was in German so I really don't know what it says exactly. This was the first kölsch we had a couple of hours after landing in Cologne and I was disappointed in something I'd waited so long to drink in its city of origin. If it was the exact same beer, maybe the service made it taste better.

On the bottle side of things, if you find yourself in a Cologne convenience store facing a choice between a €1,10 bottle of Früh and a €1,10 bottle of Sion, I'd go with the Sion. I'm not saying Sion is great but Früh was honestly the worst kölsch I had in Germany (or anywhere else for that matter). No beer with that kind of a bite or kick is worth drinking very much. I would drink Sion again willingly although maybe not if there was a good amount of choice. Sion vs. Früh or Miller Lite? I'll go with the Sion.

And yes, pretty much all kölsch is priced the same. Head to a corner market and you'll find everything for €1,10. Spend time brauhaus hopping and you'll be investing in a lot (and I do mean a lot) of €1,90 200 ml glasses of straw colored beer. Water by the way is €2,50 in most places. Beer is cheaper than water. Finally I find a place where beer is cheaper than water and it ends up not being wonderful. The irony.

Brauerei Sünner im Walfisch. The best atmosphere of any brauhaus we visited in Cologne.

There were a couple of places I'd go back to. I thought the kölsch at Brauerei zur Mahlzmühle (the top photograph of this post) just south of the light rail tracks past the Alter Markt was light and pleasant tasting. I could tell I was drinking beer a little when I was about 2-1/2 tiny glasses of beer into my lunchtime drinking with food session (also known as lunch). I also found the lower level of carbonation (than American beers that is) conducive to some heavy session drinking, although I stopped at four or maybe five. I guess Bill Clinton was here in 1999; it's never a bad thing to follow in Bill's footsteps food- or beer-wise I guess.

I can't necessarily recommend the food at Malzmühle although I did manage to exorcise a regret from five years ago. I have few regrets in life or about my travels but I do have a few and one is that when I was in Munich I chickened out on eating one of their famous local dishes (pork knuckle). I was determined on my return trip to Germany not to do that and sampled the local specialty called Himmel un Ääd (or Heaven and Earth) which is apple (the heaven) with potatoes (the Earth) served along with several slices of black pudding or blood sausage. It wasn't terrible but I won't be having it again. No regrets, though.

Ask me to go kölsch drinking at Brauerei zur Malzmühle and I'm in! I may stop for a doner kebab or curry wurst on the way but I'll be there and be good for at least five or seven or nine 200 ml glasses.

Ask me if I'd rather go somewhere else, though, and I'll respond in the affirmative. We stopped into the Brauhaus Sünner am Walfisch for a couple of glasses of afternoon kölsch and we should have stayed longer. We found Sünner (which happens to be the oldest brewery still around in the city and the originators of the kölsch name) down a side street or alley just off the Alter Markt south of the Cathedral.

If there's a big difference in quality between Sünner's kölsch and the Mühlen Kölsch I helped down my Heaven and Earth with, I couldn't articulate what it is. But it was a smooth drinking beer with a pleasant taste which I think would go down great in summer in Cologne or anywhere else. The brauhaus is small but well organized, with a main dining room and a small (and I do mean like holding 10 people small) bar area to the right of the main door as you step inside. The service at Sünner was better than we received anywhere else so combine that with the intimate interior and the good tasting beer (which comes in towers up to 5 liters high!!!) and you have the place I'd rather go back to in Cologne than any other place we drank.

After two trips to Germany to drink beer, I hope I have learned my lesson. I've been pretty down on kölsch in this post just like I was about Bavarian beer five years ago. It's honestly not all that bad. You just have to work hard and get through all the unpleasant beers to find something you really like. I'd rather go drink beer someplace with a hit rate greater than one in three (or less). Call me picky I guess.

I'm glad I went to Cologne. The city is gorgeous, especially the squares with cafe after cafe lining what seems like all four sides. I'm just not longing to go back any time soon either to drink the beer or just be in Germany. I couldn't know that if I never went. Now I do. Germany's probably fully checked on my list now. And this time without the great food.

Yes, they have coasters with Bill Clinton on them at Brauerei zur Malzmühle. 

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How We Did It
There are various ways to get to Cologne. We flew into Düsseldorf Airport and took a train south then flew out of Cologne/Bonn Airport. The train service from Cologne/Bonn is super easy and super quick (just 14 minutes). It's also super inexpensive at €2,90. Coming from Düsseldorf isn't a whole lot more cost but the train ride takes about 40 minutes. 

It isn't very difficult to find kölsch once you are in the city. Just walk south from the Dom or Cathedral down through the Alter Markt or Heumarkt and you'll find cafe after cafe where you can find the stuff. Some are brauereis or brauhauses owned by the various brewers of kölsch still resident in the city and others are independently owned restaurants. 

Brauerei zur Malzmühle is located south of the Alter Markt at Heumarkt 6. They are open at 11:30 am daily and serve until midnight on weeknights (Monday through Thursday); 1:30 am Friday and Saturday and just 11 pm on Sundays. They have a website in English. I didn't find it very helpful. They also have a hotel next door.

Brauhaus Sünner am Walfisch is just east of the Alter Markt at Salzgasse 13. They have both indoor and outdoor seating areas and are open from noon to midnight every day. Look for the sign of the whale and hops if you are approaching from the north. Their website is in German and so proved of little use to me. Walking in worked just fine.

Choose to go anywhere else and you are on your own. I'd love to hear if anyone out there found something else worth drinking.

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Beer

The first time I drank a beer (like a whole beer by myself) was in 1989. I was a senior in college (late bloomer, I know) and it was a can of Miller Genuine Draft. Or at least I think it was. I hated it. Not because it was an MGD; beer just didn't taste good to me then. I kept a hold of that beer the entire night and drained the whole thing, caught between the potential embarrassment of not finishing a single beer and the equal potential embarrassment of not continuously having beer in my hands all night long. I hoped nobody would notice it was the same can all night long. Either nobody noticed or nobody cared. Or both. In the end, I survived. 

It's now 2018 and in the almost 30 years between 1989 and now, I've drank a lot of beer and I've visited a whole lot of breweries all over the United States and Europe. From tiny microbreweries in too many American towns to recognize to the largest single site brewery in Golden, Colorado to the oldest family run brewery in London, England to probably the mustiest, dankest brewery still cranking out authentic lambic in the civilized world in Brussels, Belgium, I've covered things fairly comprehensively, even if there are admittedly some holes. Needless to say, my beer journey has improved since that night in the fall of 1989. 

But before we start talking about beer in 2018, let's talk some history.

Once upon a time in the United States, the only beer available to most folks in this country of ours was a mass-produced kind of product, and a fairly poor one at that. Think Coors or Miller or Bud Light or some kind of similar suds. Although in the old old days it was more likely to be a mass-produced local sort of product. Think Stroh's in Detroit or Piel's in New York or Wiedemann's in Cincinnati. Wherever you lived, there was bound to be a mostly regional, cheap German-style lager for the men-folk to pass away their evenings and weekends.

Eventually in the 1970s, some people got tired of drinking the same old stuff available at the bar or liquor store or grocery store or wherever else they got their pints, six-packs, twelve-packs, cases or kegs. Some of those beer lovers started their own smaller breweries trying to make a drink with more taste and character and managed to make a dent in some markets throughout the country. But a dent was about all it was. Brewing, kegging, bottling, canning and distributing beer that nobody had heard of was a costly and often unrewarding endeavor. Even when the first microbreweries managed to grab on to a local market share, the taste for something different (read: better) didn't spread particularly well sometimes.

Then in the late 1970s and early 1980s, two significant laws were passed, one at the national level and one locally in the Pacific northwest. 

On October 14, 1978, H. R. 1337 was passed by Congress and signed into law by President Jimmy Carter. The bill allowed the manufacture of up to 100 gallons per year of beer or wine by an adult at home for his or her own personal use. Got two adults at home? You get to make 200 gallons a year! Now beer lovers everywhere could try their hand at making the kind of brew they liked, rather than being forced to settle for whatever they could find at their local bar or store.

About seven years later in Portland, Oregon, SB 813 was signed into law on July 13, 1985. That bill allowed the production and sale of beer on the same property. This was huge! All of a sudden, commercial beer production got a lot cheaper. No longer were you as a small brewer forced to pay for distribution and sale on other people's properties, nor did you have to invest in canning and bottling operations to get your product into stores. You could just brew up a batch of beer and sell it right out of the back of your brewery. The brewpub was born. And aspiring brewers flocked to northwest Oregon to set up shop.

Cascade Brewing Barrel House on SE Belmont Street. Get your sour on!

In 2011, I made my first trip to Portland. It was the last stop on a cross-country drive that most people make right after they graduate from college. I made it when I was 43. I picked a place to stay in town and then identified four breweries within walking distance of our hotel and engaged in a two day or so long pub crawl. Not within reasonable stumbling distance of the hotel where I was staying? You didn't get visited.

Now it's 2018 and I've just finished my second trip to Portland. This year, I didn't constrain myself to a half mile or so radius from where I was staying but instead picked places where I thought I would enjoy the beer or where something special called to me. In 2011, walking from my hotel got me to fall in love with Deschutes Brewery. This time, I tried to find more than one place I would love.

We spent the better part of four days in late June this year and around Portland. I'm sure you can visit a whole lot of breweries in the time we spent there, although perhaps not all of the more than 60 that call the city home. Between trips out of town and a strong desire to remember all of my time in each place I drank, we limited ourselves to six on this trip. Remembering my experience was important to me this time around, something that wasn't so high on my list of priorities in 2011. Here's what I found this year.

Widmer Brothers 

If there's a brewery that put Portland on the world beer map, it's Widmer Brothers. They weren't the first brewery established in the city and they are not the oldest one still around (that honor goes to BridgePort Brewing) but they were the first Portland beer to be widely distributed with any staying power. I visited Widmer Brothers this year to kiss the ring, so to speak. I wanted to pay homage.

Now, in doing this, don't think I was visiting some place with terrible beer. Widmer's original flagship beer, Hefe, is a classic American beer in the style of a Munich weissbier which is just as awesome today as it was when I first tried it. It's light and citrus-y but with plenty of body and without the banana-y flavor that comes with this style of beer sometimes. In anticipation of my visit, I even downed a few pints in Eugene on the way to Portland.

For the beer lover who wants more than just a hefeweizen to drink, Widmer's pub has plenty more choice. Like 25 or more different beers on tap, some of which are only available at the Widmer pub on North Russell Street. So just by visiting their pub, you gain access to some exclusive brews. 

To try as many as possible in this location, I opted for a flight. This is the only place I got a rack of small glasses. I went full beers everywhere else with one asterisk which we'll get to in a minute. Of the six small glasses, I thought the Le Petit Brasseur, a saison style (which is becoming one of my personal favorite styles) beer, was the best. It was light but had flavor. I also enjoyed the Fresno Wit, a Belgian style witbier that I thought had some spicy notes. And I had to add the Japanese-style rice lager called Mr. Sparkle, the title being an ode to one of the best Simpsons episodes ever (easily top 5) and Portland's own Matt Groening. I couldn't imagine a better titled beer on this trip, but then again, maybe I lack imagination sometimes.

Ultimately, none of the six small beers I drank on North Russell were the equal of Widmer's Hefe so just to say I did it, I ordered a full glass of that gorgeous brew after I finished my sampling. Ring kissed, honor paid, let's move on. Widmer's worth a stop for every beer tourist based on history alone. We got better beer elsewhere in Portland but drinking a Hefe in this place is a touchstone moment in my American beer drinking experience.

Hopworks Urban Brewery

We visited Hopworks (or HUB, if you prefer) for one reason: they partnered with Patagonia (yes, the clothing and other outdoor gear manufacturer) on a beer made from Kernza, a trademarked perennial grain similar to intermediate wheatgrass that is native to Europe and Asia. What's a perennial grain, you might ask? Well, just like perennial flowers, it's a crop that needs to be planted just once and then it will generate seeds (in this case, wheat) year after year as opposed to needing to be replanted each year after it lives and dies in a single season.

The attraction here by the way was Patagonia, not necessarily the Kernza. While I'm all for sustainable agricultural practices (and Kernza has water use and soil regenerative benefits which are certainly cool), I'm mildly obsessed with Patagonia as a company and I can't seem to stop buying their stuff. Some days I'm like a walking billboard for the brand which makes me feel a little silly.

The HUB / Patagonia Long Root Ale can be found in the "Easy Drinkers" section of Hopwork's menu. It's a pale ale with plenty of flavor that is certainly easy to put down. It's what I would call mildly hopped, especially compared to some of the beers today that I consider to be way over the top hopped. I would drink this beer regularly if I were to hang out at Hopworks with any frequency as a Portland resident.

Long Root was not the only beer I sampled at HUB (I mean, come on...why go for just one beer). There are some interesting sounding brews on the menu including a pineapple cider and a concoction labeled Strawberry Milkshake IPA, which is actually brewed with both strawberries and lactose. Since I've been in a substantially traditional (rather than experimental) beer mood lately, I opted for something more mainstream. I guess I could have ordered a flight and had a taste of both pineapple and strawberry but, well, I've already stated how I feel about that issue right now. No more flights after Widmer!

My second (and as it turned out, last) beer? Hopworks' Organic Survival Stout, a very coffee forward beer brewed with multiple different kinds of grain including (but not limited to) barley, wheat, oats, quinoa and spelt. Interesting beer, but way too much coffee. This part is nobody's fault but mine. The menu clearly said the brew was finished with cold-pressed coffee.

Like a number of breweries in Portland, Hopworks Urban Brewery is themed and the theme here is bicycles. There are bikes and gears on the cans, labels and tap handles and the canopy over the bar is formed out of bicycle frames of all sorts. This is a good brewery. I could give it a second chance but I'm not craving it as I write this.

Vitis Noble, Cascade Brewing Barrel House.

Cascade Brewing

Cascade was the first brewery we visited in Portland. We headed there right after a walk around Washington Park's International Rose Test Garden and Japanese Garden. We went back there two days later. Cascade was my favorite brewery of the six we visited and it's my new favorite brewery in the world. At least until we go back to Fuller's in London later this month.

Most of what you need to know big picture-wise about Cascade can be summed up by our server's question to us after saying hi: "do you guys like sour beers?" Why, yes, we do. We like sour beers a whole lot. And by "we", I really mean "I".

Now, before you recoil too much at the sour beer label, just hold on. Yes, this beer is sour in the style of Belgium's best lambic beers but some of the flavors that Cascade has coaxed out of the ingredients they use to make these brews are just incredible. I'm not sure I've had a beer with more complexity in the last five years; some of these brews were mind-blowing.

I started out with three 2 oz. tasters* after describing to our server just what I was looking for, which would be something not overly fruity. If that sounds strange to anyone who knows what a lambic is, I don't particularly care for framboises or krieks or any other sort of fruit-heavy lambics; give me high quality un-fruited gueuze (or the anglisized "goze") any day of the week and I'll be a happy man. Cascade had several options in the fruitless or fruit-mild department, including their excellent excellent Vitis Noble flavored with chardonnay grapes and their even more excellent excellent Melonius Blond, a gorgeous winey brew with a sour hit of cantaloupe on the back end. Vitis Noble was the equivalent of a perfect chardonnay for me and Melonius Blond is my new favorite beer. I have to find some of this stuff on the east coast.

If you've gotten past the sour label (yes I know that was a couple of paragraphs ago at this point) and you are accepting me as some sort of beer expert (which you might consider doing), I imagine you are ready to run right down to your local beer store and get some Cascade. Let me send you off with a warning: this stuff carries a price tag to match the quality of the liquid inside the bottles. A typical 750 ml bottle of Cascade's beer will set you back $20 with some brews being priced $10 or more higher. You get what you pay for here but it's way more expensive than most beers you'll ever come across. Still, that Melonius Blond...it's calling to me.

* I told you there would be an asterisk. Tasters are not flights. There's no minimum or limit to the amount of tasters you can get and 2 oz. is just too small to be considered as making up a flight. I did try some of Cascade's more fruit-forward beers, including the Midnight Bramble made with black and red raspberries, and I found these less successful than the Vitis Noble and Melonius Blond. But then again, I know what I like; Midnight Bramble was destined for failure with me.

Beer. Marshmallow. Why not? S'more Stout.

Base Camp Brewing

On to themed brewing company number two. I could reasonably relate to a bicycle-themed brewpub; there's no way I could relate to one with a climbing (as in mountain climbing) bent. A behind-the-bar video display of people at places like Everest base camp and carabiners on the tap handles and as hooks below the bar don't necessarily make me feel like I'm at home. Carabiners below the bar, by the way...genius!

How did the mountaineering theme affect my enjoyment of the beer? Not one bit. Didn't even notice it. And the beers aren't even named after mountains or anything. No Everest or Kilimanjaro or avalanche or whatever names. We didn't spend enough time here. 

Just like HUB, we came here for one beer: the S'more Stout, a sweet-ish stout with chocolate, smoke and biscuit flavors, everything except the marshmallow, or at least that's how the brewers described what they'd put together in this concoction. And there's no need to worry about the marshmallow missing because this beer comes with a toasted one (they blowtorch it on the back bar before handing you your drink) right on the rim of every glass. Seriously? Yep! Now you know why we made a special pilgrimage for this beer.

Too often with this kind of a beer, it's a gimmick. The promise and allure is not matched by the actual taste of what you get to drink. I think in the case of the S'more Stout, that statement doesn't apply. This is actually a good beer. Maybe not one to lead with as your first glass of the night. More of (and I hope understandably) a dessert beer. And yes, there is such a thing. The beer itself is not that sweet; think some high percentage of cocoa chocolate bars. Like 80 or 90 percent. It's bitter but rich and it needs the marshmallow. The only real problem is it needs about three or four marshmallows for a whole glass. The thing on the rim disappeared in about four or five sips and a corresponding amount of bites.

They also sell this stuff in bottles. I assume marshmallows are sold separately (and your parents have to put it together).

Determined to soldier on, and determined not to get another flight, I had to sample a second beer at Base Camp. I chose a Grisette, a saison-like light refreshing beer which I feel is severely under-represented as a beer style at microbreweries pretty much everywhere. It's a thirst quenching beer that's typically a little lower in alcohol content that can be supped in quantity for refreshment. Base Camp's version was sweet and citrusy with a mild hopped finish which went down well on an unusually hot summer day in Portland. This stuff is just perfect for that kind of a day.

It's difficult to second guess leaving this brewpub considering less than 45 minutes later I had a glass of Cascade Melonius Blond in front of me but I regret not lingering at Base Camp. I would have loved another glass of this Grisette, maybe after getting a little deeper into their menu. Note to self: go back to Base Camp when in Portland next.

Cactus Wins The Lottery! Ex Novo knows how to name beers.

Ex Novo Brewing

If there's a brewery that names its beer better than Ex Novo, I haven't found it yet. And if I hadn't been to Cascade (twice), I'd be thinking about heading back to Ex Novo every day. OK, maybe I am anyway.

Choosing breweries to visit is difficult when there are so many around you to choose from (more on that later). We chose Ex Novo because they are a non-profit. They donate their profits to "those building a better world and bringing hope to places where it is scarce." That sort of a statement is enough to get me to a brewery. But it's not enough to get me to go back. Good beer is the only thing that can really do that.

Just like Hopworks and Base Camp, I tried two beers at Ex Novo. I started with The Most Interesting Lager In The World, a Mexican-style beer with a little more flavor than the average offering from south of the border. I finished with a Cactus Wins The Lottery! (the exclamation point is theirs not mine), a sour beer flavored with prickly pear cactus fruit. Who names these things? Truth be told I did happen to pick the two most creatively named beers on the menu.

The Most Interesting Lager In The World was absolutely not. Better than a standard Mexican pilsner? Oh yes! Most interesting in the world? Um...no. The Cactus Wins The Lottery!, though. That is some good stuff. My mouth is watering right now just writing about it.

Before this trip to Portland, I'd had unflavored, raspberry flavored, watermelon flavored, cranberry flavored and cherry flavored sour beer, mostly with the word lambic on the label, but not always. I'd never had blackberry, chardonnay, cantaloupe or cactus pear sour beer. Now I have and I got it all in Portland at Cascade (the first three) and Ex Novo (the last). Whenever I visited Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill in New York (now gone) or Las Vegas (still there), I used to get a cactus pear margarita. This beer is like that drink only way better (because it's beer). The cactus pear is a distinct flavor but one not strong enough or recognizable to make it seem like you are drinking a fruit beer, even though you are. It's not Cascade's Melonius Blond but it also doesn't carry a $20+ per bottle price. This stuff comes in regular sized cans. Need to find a way to get this stuff to the east coast. Ex Novo ended our beer run of new breweries. Great spot to finish!

This is the last post of my late June trip through northern California and Oregon. This trip started with wine in the Napa Valley and ended with beer in Portland. Both experiences were fantastic. I found wine I loved in the first three days of the trip and I found beer that I loved in the last four. As I write this post I have the 20 bottles of wine I bought in California sitting in my cellar waiting for the day when I crack one open and re-live my time in Cali. I have none of the beer I found in Portland. There has to be a way to remedy that somehow.

I now have a reason to go back to both places. I have no idea which one I'll get to first. There's a whole long list of places that are ahead of both, although honestly I could see a long weekend in Napa every two or three years quite easily. A non-stop flight to San Fran, some sampling, some shipping...I'll take it as it comes. Best beers in Portland? I'm going (1) Cascade's Melonius Blond, (2) Cascade's Vitis Noble, (3) Base Camp's Grisette and (4) Ex Novo's Cactus Wins The Lottery! Until next time, cheers!

Hey wait a minute, I said there were six breweries. We did stop by Wayfinder after we visited Base Camp. Wayfinder was on my list because of their logo and their full food menu. Admittedly, it was a Friday night but it was so packed that is was just unbearable. We left without sitting down or ordering a beer and headed straight (back) to Cascade. I'm not saying I wouldn't have liked Wayfinder's beer but the atmosphere was just not for me.



Good advice from Hopworks Urban Brewery.

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How We Did It

Beer is not hard to find in Portland. Just type "brewpub" into Google Maps and you are bound to come up with something close to you. My opinion is that beer is a lot like food. You want to find the right stuff? Get the scoop from someone who lives locally and can provide some insight rather than just picking the establishment closest to wherever you happen to be at the moment.

We find Eater.com really useful for food recommendations when we travel so we used them to point us in the right direction on this trip for some good beer. This will age of course but we relied heavily on Eater's April 2018 Essential Guide To Portland Breweries and the March 2018 Portland's Must-Visit Brewpubs For Beer And Food. If it's beyond 2018 when you are reading this, maybe you better just check out Eater's site and search for the most recent guides on their site.

Below is the current (as of August 2018) information for the five breweries we visited and drank beer from. Click on the name of each brewery and it will link to the website for the brewery. All breweries are in Portland.

Widmer Brothers Pub, 955 North Russell Street. There's a parking lot in the rear of the pub accessible off North Russell. It's small but it's way better than looking (and paying) for street parking. We were a little peckish when we got to Widmer but honestly found the in house menu lacking.

Hopworks Urban Brewery, 2944 SE Powell Boulevard. Like Widmer, Hopworks also has its own parking lot. Enter it off SE 29th Avenue one block from the brewery building. We had better luck with food at Hopworks. The pretzels are highly recommended; I'd go with two cups of beer cheese and pass on the mustard, but that's just me.

Cascade Brewing Barrel House, 939 SE Belmont Street. Go here. Go here. Go here. Go here. Go here. I liked Cascade a lot. Their beer is amazing and complex and the atmosphere is relaxed and quiet, even if you are in the middle of a city. They have a great shaded patio with picnic tables. They have a small menu and the choices are a little limited especially if you don't want pig. I thought their pork loin reuben was good and I'd eat it again. I'd also eat their salted caramel chocolate pecan bites again and again and again. Parking is on the street; we didn't have any problem finding a spot, although oddly we found the exact same spot both times we went.

Base Camp Brewing, 930 SE Oak Street. Of all the breweries we visited, Base Camp had the best food. They don't make their own but they do have two food trucks outside which you can order from at the bar and the Base Camp staff will go get and bring your food from the truck which is awfully convenient. We ordered Nepalese food from the Sherpa Kitchen food truck while at Base Camp. I'd recommend trying it for yourself. Street parking at Base Camp. Like everywhere we went in Portland, we had no problem finding a spot.

Ex Novo Brewing, 2326 North Flint Avenue. Ex Novo is in an old industrial building with a roll up door near Lillis Albina City Park. Ex Novo was the only place we didn't eat. Street parking again here and again, we found a spot along the edge of the park pretty easily.

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