Posts Tagged ‘Pilsner Urquell’
Czech Republic: One Country, Two Beers
For all its storied beer history, the Czech Republic has essentially two beer styles: dark and light. It’s a spartan selection even in comparison to Germany and its Reinheitsgebot. There’s the dark, chocolaty cerny (pronounced with a “ch” sound), and there’s pilsner, the famous light-colored lager from the city of Plzen. Poured fresh, they’re clear, bready, crisp, and delicious — and the reason Czechs drink more beer per capita than any country in the world.
But the best pilsner is a fresh pilsner, which is why the Pilsner Urquell we get in the States tastes like detergent. (An unfiltered keg of the stuff, a rare find even in Prague, is the beer equivalent of fresh-squeezed OJ.) In D.C., it doesn’t get better than Victory Prima Pils for a crisp, hoppy take on the style, while pilsners are always good choices at brewpubs like District Chophouse and Capitol City Brewing Co. In Virginia, seek out a bottle of Legend Pilsner, a slightly sweeter, appley version. And if you must try an import, start with Czechvar, the nom de plume of Budvar, the original “Budweiser.”
My Top 5 Desert Island Beers. What Are Yours?
A sixer of Dale’s to go — on your desert island
I’ve had, and still do have, a proclivity toward lists and the ranking of favorites. High Fidelity inspires desert island-record discussions. Fantasy football drafts are a drug. And as tykes, my brother and I would sit cross-legged in the living room, surrounded by sorted mounds of Halloween candy or Pogs (depending on the season) and conduct elaborate trades and negotiations based on our arbitrarily prized possessions. (Should I be confessing this in print? If I ever run for public office, let’s pretend this didn’t happen.)
The point being: I’m no different today. So when I see the Alström brothers of Beer Advocate fame enumerating their top five desert island beers alongside a profile in The Boston Globe, I start getting ideas. Building a desert island list is a delicate task. With records, you need to take into account all the different styles, eras, and at least one sentimental favorite. You probably want some reggae in there, being on an island. So while ranking Pogs may be less nuanced, picking just five beers to drink for all of sand-locked eternity seems unfair, if not impossible. Or in other words, fun.
Like records, my favorite beers change frequently — probably every time I walk into a beer store. But here’s my outline, the prototypical desert island beer list. And despite the urge to apply a beach theme, I have one rule: nothing with a lime in it. Ever.







