So thus begins my foolhardy attempt to document and review in a meaningful way the entire beercatalogue of Vinmonopolet in Norway. Presently they have 173 varieties listed on their website, but this includes a lot of products which they've stopped ordering, are giving a test run, or are oterwise unavailable. But still, that's a lot of beer. Time to get started.
St. Georgen Bräu Kellerbier
Unfortunately, we start on a low note. Or, not exactly a low note, more like a "hmm, that's exactly what I was expecting and that's not altogether bad" note.
Kellerbier is a German, primarily Bavarian style of beer. There are several styles of Kellerbier, some of which are top-fermented (like hefeweizen or bitter or IPA or stout or tripel or or or or), but most are bottom-fermented lagers. They're unfiltered, which means they'll be a little bit cloudy (naturtrüb) and contain small amounts of yeast and other yummy microorganisms. Kellerbier is sometimes considered the bottom-fermented version of english bitter, because of it's low effervescence. Boring! Booze times!
I came into this beer with low expectations. Mostly because I am racist against lagers and their cousins. But for those who are big on their Hansas and Borgs, I could see this one being really attractive. The tanned colour of the beer (bonus point! It's the same colour as John Boehner's forehead- ba bam!) was comforting, reminding me that there might be at least two kinds of malt in the mash. The best thing about the beer was its head, which was nice and creamy, almost like whipped egg whites. Grainy, grassy notes balanced a very muted earthy and floral hop aroma (most likely Hersbrucker, for those keeping score). The flavour was very similar, essentially reflecting the exact ingredients in the beer. When I really pushed my palette to try to find something interesting going on, I picked up on a little vanilla, cinnamon, lentil, and maybe coriander.
This beer was clearly brewed with skill for its style, and I appreciated the absence of aluminium and bleach off-flavours, which is what makes many commercial lagers (I'm looking at you, Ringnes!) almost undrinkable.
All in all, this is perhaps the best light lager I have had. But to steal Jon Stewart's Fox News analogy, being the best light lager is like being the skinniest kid at fat camp. It was light, maybe a little too sweet, and the aroma reminded me a little too much of rubbing my face on a dried field of grass, but still drinkable. This is the kind of beer that I wish was the standard for all the large commercial brewers in Europe. But for the 44 kroner it costs at vinmonopolet, I'd rather buy a shitty beer and a Grandiosa frozen pizza from REMA 1000 and cry myself to sleep.
