Monday isn't over yet

When will I be finished with my Franconia trip? It feels like I've been posting on the topic for several months. Must be even worse for you.

Kathi-Bräu
Nr. 1
91347 Heckenhof

You know a place is small when the address is just a house number. The Franconian beer guide says: "There are no convenient public transportation connections". Well that's why I was on the tour: to get to such inaccessible spots.

Kathi-Bräu sits on top of a hill in what you could just about call a village. The combination of remote location and a total lack of signs make it difficult to spot. I tell a lie. There is a small sign over the door, but that's facing away from the road. Should be nice and peaceful inside. Er. . . not really.

It was just about midday when we arrived, yet we were lucky to find a table. We chose the smaller of the two rooms, which looked rather like a granny's front parlour. Poking my head around the door, I saw that the main bar was packed. A coach party of pensioners, it looked like. Then the bikers started turning up. They sat in their leathers, sipping lemonade. Seems like a form of torture to me, going to a brewery and not being able to drink.

As I said, it was midday when we got there. The good choice of sausage snacks made it perfect for lunch. I had Knackwurst. Not that that will be of any interest to you. I decided to tell you, anyway. I have to fill this blog with something. Have you idea how much work all that historical stuff is?

The beer? They brew just one, a Dunkles. Very tasty. "Nice, malty dark lager. Very, very drinkable. "Liquorice, roast, cream, toffee and pepper are all flavours I noted down. I could say anything I like about it, as your chances of trying it are slim. They don't bottle. Or distribute. You can buy small barrels to take away, but they were out that day.

Pottenstein

To say Pottenstein scenic is like calling the pope a bear. No, hold on, that's not it. Like calling Hitler slightly disturbed. It's gob-smackingly beautiful. Crouching in a steep alley, a couple of streets of half-timbered houses are ringed by cliffs. Perched on the top, a castle looms over the town. It reminded me of Colditz. I suppose the local lord liked keeping an eye on his subjects and leaving them in no doubt who was boss. Lovely as it now looks, it must have been as intimidating as a nuclear missile when built.

In addition to great beauty, the town also has two breweries.

Brauerei Mager
Hauptstr. 15-17,
91276 Pottenstein.
Tel: 09243 - 333
Fax: 09243 - 7586
http://mager.brauereien.bierland-oberfranken.de/

We arrived in Pottenstein early afternoon. Andy gave us a couple of hours free time, which some (I'm naming no names here Stonch) used for a quick kip. I'm made of stronger stuff.

Records are there to be broken. Mine for breweries in a day stood at a measly four. And I visited other pubs in between. Mager was brewery number six that day. Six breweries in a row. Would it live up to the others?

I call it 1960's rustic. The type of folksy pine decor that's popular in Southern Germany. Mager is a good example. A bit bland, but comfortable enough. Must have been a quiet time because there was only one other customer. A bloke with a tash reading the paper and chain smoking. Your archetypal German pub customer, really.

They serve three draught beers: Dunkles, Helles and Pils. It took so long to pour my Dunkles, that the barmaid had time to wander off to the kitchen a couple of times. Finally, a very good-looking half litre arrived in front of me. It really did look great - deep brown with red highlights and a fluffy, cream-coloured head. I'll be honest, it was all I could do to stop myself drooling down my shirt a la Homer Simpson.

The low carbonation and complicated, slow pour made me suspect air-pressure dispense. I changed my mind later. What a great beer. Bags of complex dark malt flavours overlain by a shimmering layer of hops. (Can hops shimmer? Sorry, that's just the first word that came into my head.) Just the sort of Franconian beer I love, malty but full of hops. By hops I mean aromatic spiciness, not scorched-earth bitterness.

I didn't try the Helles or Pils. I was very happy with the Dunkles. Find a good beer and stick to it, that's my motto. Plus I'd already tried multiple beers that day. Drinking for pleasure mode had kicked in. You may be a superman, but when out drinking in pubs (or at beer festivals) I can only really taste half a dozen beers, at most. There are too many distractions . And who wants to be the nerd too busy taking notes to chat and joke?

That evening, the group ate in Mager. The menu was full of Franconian specialities: Schäufele, homemade Roulade, Schweinshaxe and Pfannenschnitzel. Tempting as these were, I went for a venison stew. You don't often get game here in Holland. (Or decent sausages, for that matter.)

They must have done something to the gas pressure during the afternoon. The beer we consumed with the food was far fizzier than my afternoon pint. Maybe not air pressure after all, then.

It's all rather dull so far, isn't it? All the amusing stuff occurred much later. I'm saving that for tomorrow.


Gasthausbrauerei Hufeisen
Hauptstr. 36 - 38,
91278 Pottenstein.
Tel.: 09243 - 260
Fax: 09243 - 7429
Email: hufeisen-braeu@t-online.de
URL: www.hufeisen-braeu.de

Pottenstein's other brewery is on the same street as Mager. Well, most everything - church, bank, shops - is on the same street. It's a small town.

Hufeisen is located in another half-timbered building. Unusually for a long-established German brewpub, the brewery is in the bar. Most places like this have them in separate building at the rear. Until 1990, when the kettles were moved inside, that was the case. The old brewery has been converted into an off-licence and a bar.

There isn't much else I can tell you. There wasn't much I could make out through the window; Monday is their rest day. "A bit dodgy" was Andy's comment on their beer.

More Pottenstein tomorrow, including Andy's new hat, the drinking policeman and a crazy Saxon. Sounds great, doesn't it?