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It’s Starkbier-drinking, dirndl-wearing time!
Lucky me, a sunny day has lured me out of my lair along with the curious prospect of tasting my first Mass of a brown potion known as Starkbier.
I must say it has taken me awhile to get the hang of this winter thing. I chalk my first winter season experience up to happy-go-lucky ignorance. You could have locked me with a beach towel in a freezer full of Fischstäbchen and told me this was a typical German ritual.
I would’ve gone with it. And in some respects, I did and it was difficult to find any joy in it.
That’s probably why I haven’t been to a Starkbierfest in the time I’ve lived in Munich. The grey and cold keep me indoors.
In subsequent years, I grew more the wisers. Life in the winter months has taught me to stay active or end up busting a knee ligament and more recently, to also get over being shy about public naked-time on Sauna Saturdays. My cold loathing has been reduced for those few days when the sky is so depressing it feels like the dark crystal is hovering above Munich draining the life essence from all who dare to gaze outside the window.
Alright. It’s not that bad. Especially now.. because it’s Starkbierzeit.
The former monastery at Nockherberg, now the Paulaner brewery and gastronomy wonder park, offers a mini version of what it’s like to be in a beer tent during Oktoberfest. See all the Lebkuchen Herzchen, ribbons, and balloons? The one advantage: there’s no smoking. The disadvantage: there is a cover charge to get on the grounds.
So this Keferloher or Steinkrug I’m holding contains the Starkbier called, Salvator. Also known as “liquid bread”, it was invented by hunger-driven monks because fasting it old-school was just too hard to bare. They also supported their habit by selling the stuff to outsiders.
It needs to be served ice cold because it contains 7.5% alcohol (normal beer has 4.7 to 5.1%) otherwise it tastes bitter and flat. I thought the Salvator was just a tad sweeter than wheat beer and palatable, which was to my delight because I had a liter of it to kill.
After awhile the picture above sums it up: Life in a Mass surrounded by a bunch of empty mini-masses.. and a chicken with a knife in it.
At the end of the evening, the long, cold winter is merely a faint memory along with the uncomfortable tightness the dSo a schoener Tag – Fliegerlied by Die Jungen Zillertalerirndl of two seasons ago is putting on your rib cage. Eventually you find yourself happy and holding a bouquet of radishes! (or perhaps I’m speaking from my unique perspective) All in all, good times.
So a schoener Tag – Fliegerlied by Die Jungen Zillertaler
