Hacker-Pschorr Hefeweizen

Tonight, I had another liquid memory from the Munich days, even if this one is a sad story, in some ways. The Hacker-Pschorr Hefeweizen - and what a wonderfully opaque brew this is (see below for evidence), rich with yeast and satisfying as a result. For you folks out there having some trouble with the word Hefeweizen, it is pronounced "He-fuh-vai-tsen" and it literally means "Yeast-wheat", denoting of course the use of wheat malt and a secondary re-fermentation with yeast sediment in the bottle. But, while the beer is lovely, the story is not: Hacker-Pschorr is another German brewery gone, taken to the big boys' league and now haunting the world as "a brand without a brewery" (The Oxford Companion to Beer, p.415). It is a fallen institution in the Munich beer brewing scene, established in 1417, and always exotic because it is so much more difficult to pronounce for the English speaking world than the names of other local breweries (e.g., Spaten or Löwenbräu). It was snatched up by the Heineken Group, although not with a controlling interest, after first being acquired by the now gigantic Paulaner Brewery, also of Munich. My memories of Hacker-Pschorr are not vivid nor extensive, I just recall always having thought that the part after the hyphen epitomized a Bavarian sounding name.

Hacker-Pschorr will get the honor of starring together with the Canadian fall. This summer, we did not have much rain, and the fall weather has been gentle. In my neighbourhood, the maple leafs are in full bloom of red, orange, and gold colours, and after a good night's rain, many leafs have started to fall. My daughter and I collected some and then decorated the stage for the lovely Hacker-Pschorr Hefeweizen to give this fine German beer a worthy Canadian backdrop. But what do you say to a 6-year old when she asks you "Papa, why do you take pictures of beers?" My answer was along the lines of "well, you like playing with your Barbies and your Pollies ..."

And what a fine beer this is, quite different than even its Bavarian sisters in the Hefeweizen category that I have reviewed on these pages in previous posts (e.g., Schneiderweisse, Erdinger Weisse). It so gentle in the way the rich elixir flows over my palate that the only analogy I can only think of is eating a braided Easter bread loaf. The sweet malt and the yeast combine to create this effect, I think, and both aromas feature prominently also in the nose of this beer. The hops is very subtle, and the beer's balance seems to be complemented by some acidic clove and grapefruit notes in the yeast. Still, the palate is clean and dry, but without any real bitterness - quite remarkable. Note also the swivel top  bottle, which I always find delightful because you don't need a bottle opener and it is not a twist-top.