ALTBIER.

Farbeit for me to drone on in soliloquy about the ruthless, cruel aging process that befalls us all but it goes without saying that time flies. Everyone grows up at headlong speed and the innocence of youth swiftly vanishes. Before you know it everyone’s happy families, with mortgages, wedding rings and prams. It’s regrettable and the opportunity to grab a few beers with companions of old, diminishes substantially in direct correlation to exponentially increasing authority. Thankfully, life and our social constructs do present us with the occasional opportunity to reignite these old companionships through christenings, house warmings and the like. In this instance, let us turn our attention to that most celebrated of occasions - the stag doo. You gather at a regional airport - men of a variant age demographic - and shoot into the early-morning sky at stupid o’clock, gliding to one of Europe’s finest and more commutable cities.


Behold, Dusseldorf. It’s a city at the heart of Germany’s Rhineland, surrounded by Bundesliga clubs and home to glorious Altbier. With its reddish hue and distinct malty flavourings, it makes for perfect drinking on such an event. Whether that be whilst sampling the rowdiness of Bolkerstrasse or in one of the ‘Dorf’s innumerable micro-breweries, tardises that extend organically into the Germanic earth.. If, historically, you’re a lager or pilsner drinker don’t let the colour put you off. Hops and maltiness combine with a refreshing lightness to make Altbier increasingly moorish as the clock ticks and the weekend, like all innocent follies draws to a premature close. Best served in third pints for optimum freshness it’s quintessentially Westphalian taste ensures it’s truly delicious. So kommen sie bitte und sample some Altbier. Prost!

Luke Connelly

luke@liberomag.com

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