Just to show you that I haven’t been completely wasting my time, here’s an assessment, a survey – nay, an overview – of Polish beer.
But where to begin? I’d like to say ‘they’re all good’, but sadly it wouldn’t be true. Actually, I’m not sure if any of them are actually good in the CAMRA sense. What they are is brazen: brazen as a bronze age bronze bust of Barbara Windsor’s bust outside Brasenose college. The principle seems to be ‘let’s get ordinary cooking lager and crank up the alcohol content until it produces a generally warming effect’. The result is halfway between an ordinary North German style pils and stuff of profane memory like Breaker and Colt 45, though usually stronger than either. Most of it seems to be pretty heavily malted, which if you’re old enough brings back memories of the seventies. In general I find it appealingly rough and ready, good in the same sort of way that people used to describe rough French reds as good, meaning bad but with plenty of wallop and satisfying for all that. At any rate, Polish beer has generally been a boon to Manchester. But onwards:
Tyskie: I’m not sure if this is my favourite but it’s the only beer that actually tastes like a conventional strong lager in a way familiar to the Western drinker. Stella with guts.
Lech premium. I think this is some attempt to formulate a kind of yuppie lager experience for young Poles on the way up. Fail. Curiously soapy but otherwise tasteless, and should lose the initial L for truth in advertising purposes. I’ve currently got their Pils in the fridge, but I sense it’s one of those brews you have to get drunk before sampling. Time will tell.
Zwiec. I understand this was the showpiece brewery for export under Communism, and I remember that you could get it in Safeways in Manchester city centre from way before the IRA blew it up. At 35p for half a litre of 5.6% lager, too. And it tasted very, very good indeed. I used to leave work in quiet moments, buy a couple of bottles and go up on to the roof of the arcade in St Ann’s Square to drink them. That’s where they shot the pigeon sequence in 24 hour Party People, though I never actually encountered any members of the Happy Mondays at the time.
Happy days. So imagine my disappointment to find that the curiously addictive malty substance of my late youth was forced into the international division of capital as a standard issue bland eurobrew. Zwiec in its current form is an argument for Jaruzelski, and you don’t get many of those these days.
Okocim: It’s surprising how a five and a half percent lager can be made so utterly bland.
Zubr. At six percent, Zubr tops out the Polish idea of a session beer. And it’s quite remarkable stuff. I’m just not sure it’s actually beer. I must experiment more.
Polish session brews seem to cluster round the five and a half percent mark. After that, you’re into the Mocnes, which cluster at around 7%. So:
Strong. Yep, there’s a beer called strong. And guess what?
I like this kind of basic marketing. I wonder if they have a nine per cent beer called Puke.
Okocim Mocne: Now this is more like it. A bit like Carlsberg Elephant Beer of blessed memory. Robust yet curiously delicate, in the manner of an arm wrestling duchess.
Debrowie Mocne: Polish version of Tennants Special. Don’t they have tramps of their own?
Tatra Mocne. It’s got a picture of a man in a silly hat on the tin, so it’s really one to decant. But you won’t be disappointed. Nicely crisp for a swamp strength lager.
And there you have it, or rather what I made of it.
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