Let me start by saying: I am not a beer geek. I exclusively drink one style of beer, Pilsner, because I believe it is the tastiest, purest expression of what beer was and should be; there is nothing to hide behind - no fruit, no excess of hops or any of the other random ingredients brewers in the States have become accustomed to tossing into the mix to terrible results. This is a story about Pilsner beer.
On our honeymoon in Copenhagen, we sought out a petite, low-frills, smoked-filled bar named Vinstue 90 to try a special beer I read about in preparation for our travels to Denmark. It was called “Slow Beer.”
“Slow Beer,” in this bar, was a draft Carlsberg Pilsner poured, well….very slowly. It took about ten minutes. The resulting pint was creamy and subtle, capped with a thick, luscious dose of foam as dense as whipped cream. It was perhaps the finest beer I’ve ever had. Certainly the most unique.
My favorite part about our Slow Beer experience was the knowledge that I would never again be able to enjoy that beer unless I traveled to Copenhagen - and to Vinstue 90 - in the future. These days practically everything is available with a quick web search and a few days time - we’ve been Amazon’d into believing that what we want can be had anywhere in the world. I like little reminders this isn’t always the case.
I’ve come to appreciate when things are resolutely against this current. Take, for example, a bespoke suit from Savile Row. You cannot simply “add to cart” - you must commit the time, make the journey, expend the energy.
For all of these reasons I was thrilled by a recent visit to what may be my favorite brewery in America: Suarez Family Brewery in Hudson, NY. This family-run brewery is decidedly anti-expansion, preferring to keep their team and their output small. Five years ago my wife and I sought out their tasting room after I learned about their mission to brew “crispy little beers,” several of which are Pilsners. This goal resonated with me unlike any brewery before, because crispy little beers are exactly what I’m looking for. They were bitter, refreshing, crisp, and extremely well made.
In the years that passed since that visit, I’ve made multiple calls and emails to Suarez in an effort to track down their beers. I offered to host an event for them in South Carolina, and to carry their beers at my restaurants. I would email before trips to NYC and ask if any bars would be serving their beers. Every time the answer was the same: NOPE. (In fairness, on my last visit they did provide a list of beer shops with beers available for purchase, but I was looking for a nice cold draft to sate my desires.)
The lack of access only made the beers more special to me. When we returned to the area a couple of weeks ago, I was hell-bent on making the trek from our friends home in Connecticut to quaff a couple of pints. Owing to COVID, the tasting room was closed, but they had created a small beer garden off the rear of their brewery, and we tucked into some shade to enjoy their offering - the Palatine Pils, an unfiltered German pils, textbook in style.
I suggested to my wife that we buy a couple cases and ship them home, but she knew this was something that should remain elusive, lest it lose it’s star quality. We did cart a four pack back to our friends house, so that we could extend the enjoyment for a couple more days. But now that I am back on South Carolina soil, that pint remains elusive, which I love. It gives me a reason to return to the area, and until then, remains something to look forward to.
And now, a little housekeeping note: this week I am resuming the paid subscriptions. If you are a free subscriber, I would love to welcome you into the clubby, exclusive world of this half-baked newsletter. You’ll get access to the archive, and of course all future content: