This #beersaturday post is a reflection on the recent past. Usually, I prefer to procure a beer, enjoy it, and pontificate. Today, though, I got to thinking about the Hacker-Pschorr Oktoberfest.
It was late October, and members of my family had gathered in a small town in Missouri to pay final respects to my grandfather. Even at 91 years of age, his passing still struck with an unpleasant shock. His wit, clarity and recall to the very end was nothing short of impeccable and impressive. The night of his death, I had been scouring my inbox to see if he had yet to reply to my latest email.
Alas, this post is about beer, isn't it? My apologies for the departure, but I would be remiss in not mentioning the surrounding occasion when discovering this beer for the first time. After the funeral, we scanned our unfamiliar environment for a food source. That's when I spotted something very unexpected.
I failed to snap a photo of the storefront, but found this one on their Facebook page.
I get very excited about ethnic food. As we curiously assembled in the small restaurant, all of us now appearing awkwardly overdressed, I was delighted to hear a heavy German accent coming from within. Not only were there some pretty great aromas hanging in the air, but I could see beer. German beer. I, of course, had to inquire about the selection. When I asked about a Märzen, the gentleman quickly rattled off the name, Hacker-Pschorr. I had never had, nor even heard of this one, so it had to be.
There is nothing surprising in a Märzen. I tend to think the subtle styles are often the mark of a brewer's quality. Big, and bold are nice, but I really enjoy a well-balanced classic. It really was a lovely beer, pairing well with the veal loaf sandwich I had. The veal loaf was almost like a sophisticated SPAM. Ha! Very good, though.
Cheers to you for making it all the way through this rambling #beersaturday post, and cheers to @detlev for coaxing the creative spirit in brewing and beer regalia.
Prost!
Thom