Żywiec

Today I will revert to story telling, as I did a couple of weeks ago when reviewing Erdinger Weissbier. Today's beer is from Poland, is called  Żywiec, and holds with it memories of my trip into Central-Eastern Europe in 1996. This beer is a fine lager, despite the controlling stake that global brewer Heineken has in the brewery today, and it is very typical for central European pilsner style beers. As you may know already, my fondness for German beer predisposes me to liking well-made beers of this style, and this one hits the spot indeed. It has a fine malt flavour that I can best describe as slightly dried but not toasted bread, with plenty of wonderfully rich grain sweetness and a rich velvety mouthfeel. Its bitterness is also very dry, balances well with the malt, and lingers a surprising long time on the back of my palate. That's the way I like my pilsners!

I took this beer to the train tracks, making sure to keep on the right side, to set the right mood for my Żywiec story. I took it there because the one and only time I went to Poland, I entered from the Czech republic via overnight train. Naturally, having just been in Prague, Plzeň, and České Budějovice, I came here also to explore the qualities of what is brewed in this region, where splendor and horror echo history, and where beer was likely one of its few benevolent constants. We were advised to lock the door to our compartment by the official on the train, as this should protect us against burglars who might come in at night and pilfer everything, including the bags hanging around our necks. Good thing I did not drink too much that evening - only a couple of cans I picked up at the train station in Prague - and so I did not have to run to toilet all night long. And then there was our fellow passenger who kept on itching his arm (or was it his leg?), making us wonder what kind of creatures would flake from the scales off his skin and nestle on our clothes for us to take home as pets. Once asleep, I did notice several stoppages throughout the trip, and we were awoken in the middle of the night by Polish border guards with machine guns demanding our "Passaport." The next morning, the official word was that during one of those train stoppages, three "Schwarzeneggers" had climbed on board and tried to rob passengers, but thanks to the good advice of our holy official, they could not open the door to our compartment. Those were tall tales according to a Czech student who traveled in the same compartment and upon arrival in Katowice ate a warmed raw egg out of a cup - to my delight and my wife's disgust. After that, I was thirsty for a beer, so we made haste to find a place to sleep and have our first Polish refreshment, which, as you might guess, was a Żywiec.

 I like the refractions of pebble and logs through the amber nectar in these pics:

A detail from the label shown two dancers in what I assume is traditional Polish folk dress. One has to wonder, though, what is missing in the beer - it can't be water, and there is clearly hops in there, as is malt, so perhaps they created alcohol through immaculate decoction, rather than with yeast.