Today is the feast day of St. Cuthbert (c. 634 – 20 March 687), sometimes referred to as Cuthbert of Lindisfarne. In addition to being the patron saint of England, and specifically Durham, Newcastle, Hexham, Lancaster and Northumbria, shepherds, sailors, and against the plague, he is also the patron saint of maltsters. According to some sources, this is because “during his final years, in retreat on the Island of Farne, Cuthbert was only able to sustain himself by growing barley. He also became a protector of the barley by invoking the name of God to disperse the birds who hungered to consume the barley.”
Cuthbert was an Anglo-Saxon saint of the early Northumbrian church in the Celtic tradition. He was a monk, bishop and hermit, associated with the monasteries of Melrose and Lindisfarne in what might loosely be termed the Kingdom of Northumbria, in North East England[b] and the South East of Scotland. After his death he became the most important medieval saint of Northern England, with a cult centred on his tomb at Durham Cathedral. Cuthbert is regarded as the patron saint of Northumbria.
Cuthbert grew up in or around Lauderdale, near Old Melrose Abbey, a daughter-house of Lindisfarne, today in Scotland. He decided to become a monk after seeing a vision on the night in 651 that St. Aidan, the founder of Lindisfarne, died, but he seems to have seen some military service first. He was quickly made guest-master at the new monastery at Ripon, soon after 655, but had to return with Eata of Hexham to Melrose when Wilfrid was given the monastery instead. About 662 he was made prior at Melrose, and around 665 went as prior to Lindisfarne. In 684 he was made bishop of Lindisfarne, but by late 686 he resigned and returned to his hermitage as he felt he was about to die. He was probably in his early 50s.
Cuthbert discovers the piece of timber washed up with the tide, that was to be used as a roof beam, c. late 12th century.
Here’s another telling of his story, from OrthoChristian, picking it up after he’d been prior of Lindisfarne for twelve years and had been teaching the rules of monastic life to the Lindisfarne monks.
Little by little he introduced very strict discipline and monastic rules to the monastery—he lived precisely such a life himself—and became a real father to his brethren. And he continued his missionary work, which stretched to such places as Durham and Carlisle. But he more and more wished for a solitary life as a hermit. So he first retired to the isle today known as St. Cuthbert’s Island, and then, in 676, he settled on Inner Farne (both isles belong to the group of the Farne Islands which are famous for their wild nature and colonies of many species of birds today). On Inner Farne he built himself a little hut and a chapel and constructed a high wall around them (he was a physically very strong and skillful man).
At first he did not want any visitors to come to him, wishing to see only the sky, the heaven for which he strove so much. The saint lived in extremely difficult conditions on Farne, but nothing was impossible for him because God and the angels were always nearby. The saint by his fervent prayer expelled all the demons from Farne, who for some time attacked him ferociously. He also provided food for himself by the labor of his hands: through his prayer the soil on Farne became fertile and he was able to grow barley there, and a holy well with an abundant amount of water gushed forth from a dry rock on the isle due to his prayers. With time monks from Lindisfarne and other monasteries, nevertheless, started to flock to him and inhabitants from outside Lindisfarne followed too, in spite of the remoteness of that site. And Cuthbert, though he tried to avoid fame, could not refuse them wise instruction and words of consolation.
And they mention his growing of barley a little later in the story.
Some modern researchers suggest that St. Cuthbert was the first man in history to speak up in defense of wild nature, in his case: eider ducks. Maybe this is just a legend, but it is certain that he took care of these birds during his life and they still nest on Inner Farne in masses, as if in memory of the great saint. Northumbrians call these eider ducks “chicken of Cuddy” after St. Cuthbert. According to Bede, when Cuthbert first sowed seeds of barley on Inner Farne, birds started pecking them. The saint reproached them for that and they did not do it again. Two ravens used to steal straw from the small guesthouse near the saint’s cell. Cuthbert ordered them to leave the isle for such behavior. But the ravens soon returned with their wings prostrated and the heads lifted low as a sign of their remorse. More than that, they brought him lard to atone for their guilt. The saint forgave them, allowed them to stay on the isle and used the lard to waterproof his shoes.
There is a specific cross named for the saint, known as the St Cuthbert’s Cross, which is used on the County Durham flag, for example.
Today is the feast day of St. Joseph, husband of Mary, and the “legal” father of Jesus. While he’s not the patron saint of brewers or anything beer related, it’s his feast day that marks the beginning of the Frühjahrsbierfest in Munich, Germany. Frühjahrsbierfest translates as “Spring Beer Festival” and it’s also sometimes called “Little Oktoberfest.” It’s very similar to Oktoberfest, held in the same place but is more local-focused and considerably smaller. The modern festival is held in late April now, ending in early May, and this year’s one in Stuttgart begins April 16th and concludes on May 8, with a similar one in Munich over the same dates. But today is its traditional start date and it lasted, I believe, around two weeks.
“Saint Joseph with the Flowering Rod,” by Jusepe de Ribera, c. 1630.
Here is his main description from his Wikipedia page:
Joseph (Hebrew: יוֹסֵף, romanized: Yosef; Greek: Ἰωσήφ, romanized: Ioséph) is a figure in the canonical gospels who was married to Mary, mother of Jesus, and was the legal father of Jesus. The Gospels name brothers of Jesus; the Gospel of James, an apocryphal work of the late 2nd century, theorized these as the sons of Joseph from an earlier marriage. This position is still held in the Orthodox churches, but the Western church holds to Jerome’s argument that both Joseph and Mary must have been lifelong virgins and that the “brothers” must have been his cousins. Perspectives on Joseph as a historical figure are distinguished from a theological reading of the Gospel texts.
Joseph is venerated as Saint Joseph in the Catholic Church, Orthodox Church, Oriental Orthodox Church, Anglicanism, and Lutheranism. In Catholic traditions, Joseph is regarded as the patron saint of workers and is associated with various feast days. The month of March is dedicated to Saint Joseph. Pope Pius IX declared him to be both the patron and the protector of the Catholic Church, in addition to his patronages of the sick and of a happy death, due to the belief that he died in the presence of Jesus and Mary. Joseph has become patron of various dioceses and places.
“Joseph’s Dream” by Rembrandt, completed in 1645.
While not a beer saint in the usual sense, I included him because of his association to this German beer festival. Because of his importance to Christianity, he is a patron for a bewildering number of people, places and things, including carpenters, craftsmen, families, lawyers, people who fight communism, social justice, travelers, working people. The places he’s the patron for include, Austria, Belgium, Bavaria, Bohemia, Canada, the Croatian people, the New World, along with Buffalo, NY; Cologne, Germany; La Crosse, Wisconsin; San Jose, California; and Westphalia, Germany. And trust me, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. For the rest, check out CatholicSaints.info.
Today, like every day, I surveyed a list of writers born this day and try to find an appropriate quote involving beer or drinking for the day. I’ve been doing this for years and have amassed a fairly sizable quantity of quotations. But today I stumbled upon yet another great word that has been lost to time, or in this case never quite seems to have caught on at all, which is a pity.
Tobias Smollett was born today in 1721 in “Dalquhurn, now part of Renton in present-day West Dunbartonshire, Scotland.” According to his Wikipedia page, he “was a Scottish writer and surgeon. He was best known for writing picaresque novels such as The Adventures of Roderick Random (1748), The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle (1751) and The Expedition of Humphry Clinker (1771), which influenced later generations of British novelists, including Charles Dickens.”
While searching through his work today, I happened upon a great word in his 1771 novel The Expedition of Humphry Clinker, which is described as “the last of the picaresque novels of Tobias Smollett, published in London on 17 June 1771 (three months before Smollett’s death), and is considered by many to be his best and funniest work. It is an epistolary novel, presented in the form of letters written by six characters: Matthew Bramble, a Welsh Squire; his sister Tabitha; their niece Lydia and nephew Jeremy Melford; Tabitha’s maid Winifred Jenkins; and Lydia’s suitor Wilson.”
In the 59th letter of the novel, of a total of 85, which was written by J. Melford Argylshire and addressed “To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart. of Jesus college, Oxon” and beginning “Dear Knight,” Smollett invented the word “chearupping-cup” to describe … well, a cup of cheer, with, naturally, alcohol in it. Here’s the paragraph that includes it:
When the Lowlanders want to drink a chearupping-cup, they go to the public house, called the Change-house, and call for a chopine of two-penny, which is a thin, yeasty beverage, made of malt; not quite so strong as the table-beer of England,—This is brought in a pewter stoop, shaped like a skittle, from whence it is emptied into a quaff; that is, a curious cup made of different pieces of wood, such as box and ebony, cut into little staves, joined alternately, and secured with delicate hoops, having two cars or handles—It holds about a gill, is sometimes tipt round the mouth with silver, and has a plate of the same metal at bottom, with the landlord’s cypher engraved.—The Highlanders, on the contrary, despise this liquor, and regale themselves with whisky; a malt spirit, as strong as geneva, which they swallow in great quantities, without any signs of inebriation. They are used to it from the cradle, and find it an excellent preservative against the winter cold, which must be extreme on these mountains—I am told that it is given with great success to infants, as a cordial in the confluent smallpox, when the eruption seems to flag, and the symptoms grow unfavourable—The Highlanders are used to eat much more animal food than falls to the share of their neighbours in the Low-country—They delight in hunting; have plenty of deer and other game, with a great number of sheep, goats, and black-cattle running wild, which they scruple not to kill as vension, without being much at pains to ascertain the property.
I confirmed with the O.E.D. that this is the sole instance of the word being used (at least that they recorded) and which thy defined as “Of an alcoholic drink: reviving; comforting….” “Chear,” being an archaic form of “cheer,” that never quite caught on as well as cheer, it feels better with the double-ee’s. And indeed later editions spelled it “cheerupping-cup” as listed in “A Supplemental English Glossary,” by T. Lewis O. Davis, and published in 1881, under an entry for “Twopenny.”
From “A Supplemental English Glossary,” by T. Lewis O. Davis.
And in another instance from a news report in the Stamford Mercury, Friday, July 4, 1823, there’s a story using the word.
The language of love, so much talked of by the poets, prevailed against every remonstrance of friends and even the rage and fury of relations. The happy swain had conquest in his cheeks and will love, cherish, honour and obey. Hand in hand the couple blithely proceeded to the adjoining village of Rippingale where the festive board groaned with the weight of the feast and it also being the annual feast day of the parish, the tabor struck up and the village was gay. Rural sports were the order of the day and the merry dance and sparkling glass went round till night was at odds with morning and the groom, having taken sufficient of the cheer-upping cup, the happy couple retired and after throwing the stocking, the jolly swain was left wrapt in the arms of Morpheus to enjoy (what he most needed), nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep. [My emphasis.]
But doing some more rabbit-hole digging, I discovered it was used earlier with the more common ‘cheer’ spelling, though still not often and certainly not enough to suggest its use became widespread by any means. The O.E.D. lists as an adjective “cheer-upping” with the same definition, “[o]f an alcoholic drink: reviving; comforting…” with a range of use from 1720-1832. They also list a quotation that predates Smollett, from 1733, so it’s likely he wasn’t the first after all. “They … retired to comfort themselves with a cheer-upping Cup,” which is from “English Malady: or, A Treatise of Nervous Diseases of All Kinds,” by George Cheyne, though he remains one of the few to use it in fiction.
But whoever came up with, I still don’t understand why it fell out of use, because it just rolls pleasantly off the tongue: “cheerupping-cup.” Who wouldn’t want, or often need, a cheerupping-cup? I think I need one now. Who’s with me? Fancy a cheerupping-cup?
I may not be biggest fan of academia’s version of indentured servitude, otherwise known as college basketball, but I do still enjoy the games of March Madness every year. The tournament is usually a fun diversion for a few weeks each year, so for the fourteenth straight year, I’ve set up a fantasy game, similar to fantasy football or baseball. It’s a bracket game through Yahoo which I call “Märzen Madness.” It doesn’t look like there’s a limit to the number of people who can play, so sign up and make your picks beginning right now, with the first games taking place on March 18, which only gives you roughly two days to complete your bracket. So don’t delay, sign up right away and fill out your bracket.
To join Märzen Madness and play the Yahoo! Sports Tournament Pick’em game, just follow the link below. You’ll also need a Yahoo ID (which is free if you don’t already have one).
To accept the invitation and play Märzen Madness this year, just follow this invitation link.
Today is the birthday of English scientist Joseph Priestley (March 13, 1733-February 6, 1804). While he was also a “clergyman, natural philosopher, chemist, educator, and Liberal political theorist,” he’s perhaps best known for discovering oxygen (even though a few others lay claim to that honor). According to Wikipedia, “his early scientific interest was electricity, but he is remembered for his later work in chemistry, especially gases. He investigated the ‘fixed air’ (carbon dioxide) found in a layer above the liquid in beer brewery fermentation vats. Although known by different names at the time, he also discovered sulphur dioxide, ammonia, nitrogen oxides, carbon monoxide and silicon fluoride. Priestley is remembered for his invention of a way of making soda-water (1772), the pneumatic trough, and recognising that green plants in light released oxygen. His political opinions and support of the French Revolution, were unpopular. After his home and laboratory were set afire (1791), he sailed for America, arriving at New York on 4 Jun 1794
In 1767, Priestley was offered a ministry in Leeds, Englane, located near a brewery. This abundant and convenient source of “fixed air” — what we now know as carbon dioxide — from fermentation sparked his lifetime investigation into the chemistry of gases. He found a way to produce artificially what occurred naturally in beer and champagne: water containing the effervescence of carbon dioxide. The method earned the Royal Society’s coveted Copley Prize and was the precursor of the modern soft-drink industry.
Even Michael Jackson, in 1994, wrote about Priestley connection to the brewing industry.
“It has been suggested that the Yorkshire square system was developed with the help of Joseph Priestley who, in 1722, delivered a paper to the Royal Society on the absorption of gases in liquids. In addition to being a scientist, and later a political dissident, he was for a time the minister of a Unitarian church in Leeds. During that period he lived next to a brewery on a site that is now Tetley’s.”
In the New World Encyclopedia, during his time in Leeds, it explains his work on carbonation.
Priestley’s house was next to a brewery, and he became fascinated with the layer of dense gas that hung over the giant vats of fermenting beer. His first experiments showed that the gas would extinguish lighted wood chips. He then noticed that the gas appeared to be heavier than normal air, as it remained in the vats and did not mix with the air in the room. The distinctive gas, which Priestley called “fixed air,” had already been discovered and named “mephitic air” by Joseph Black. It was, in fact, carbon dioxide. Priestley discovered a method of impregnating water with the carbon dioxide by placing a bowl of water above a vat of fermenting beer. The carbon dioxide soon became dissolved in the water to produce soda water, and Priestley found that the impregnated water developed a pleasant acidic taste. In 1773, he published an article on the carbonation of water (soda water), which won him the Royal Society’s Copley Medal and brought much attention to his scientific work.
He began to offer the treated water to friends as a refreshing drink. In 1772, Priestley published a paper entitled Impregnating Water with Fixed Air, in which he described a process of dripping sulfuric acid (or oil of vitriol as Priestley knew it) onto chalk to produce carbon dioxide and forcing the gas to dissolve by agitating a bowl of water in contact with the gas.
But his most important work was to be in the field of gases, which he called ‘airs’ (he would later chide James Keir for giving himself airs (oh dear!) by adopting the term ‘gases’ in his Dictionary of Chemistry, saying ‘I cannot help smiling at his new phraseology’). Living, as he did at the time, next to a brewery, he noticed that the gas given off from the fermenting vats drifted to the ground, implying that it was heavier than air. Moreover, he discovered that it extinguished lighted wood chips. He had discovered carbon dioxide, which he called ‘fixed air’. Devising a method of making the gas at home without brewing beer, he discovered that it produced a pleasant tangy taste when dissolved in water. By this invention of carbonated water, he had become the father of fizzy drinks!
20. By this process may fixed air be given to wine, beer, and almost any liquor whatever: and when beer is become flat or dead, it will be revived by this means; but the delicate agreeable flavour, or acidulous taste communicated by the fixed air, and which is manifest in water, will hardly be perceived in wine, or other liquors which have much taste of their own.
Priestley’s apparatus for experimenting with ‘airs.’
Today is the birthday of George Michael Biner (February 22, 1897-June 19, 1971). He was the brother of William H. Biner, who was also a brewer. He was born in the Montana territory to Swiss immigrant parents. His father, Theophil Biner, knew Leopold Schmidt and even worked at his Olympia Brewery. Biner sent both of his sons, including George, to brewing school in Milwaukee.
This short biography is from his Find-a-Grave page:
George Michael Biner (1897-1971) was the son of Theophil Biner and Juliana Truffer. George contracted polio as a soldier during World War I. However, he went on to be a successful artist, brew master and inventor. He supervised the laying of the tile for the dome of the Los Angeles County Library, invented a labeling machine for breweries and was the co-founder of Biner Ellison which pioneered the production of liquid filling machines, and still makes brewery equipment today.
Today is the birthday of French physician and chemist Louis Camille Maillard (February 4, 1878-May 12, 1936) who was the Doogie Howser of his era, joining the faculty of the University of Nancy when he was only sixteen. He rose to prominence thanks to his work on kidney disorders and later taught medicine at the prestigious University of Paris.
But his biggest contribution, especially to brewing, was an accidental discovery he made in 1912, which today we call the Maillard Reaction, or Browning Reaction.
Here’s the basic description, from Wikipedia:
The Maillard Reaction a chemical reaction between amino acids and reducing sugars that gives browned food its desirable flavor. Seared steaks, pan-fried dumplings, biscuits (widely known in North America as cookies), breads, toasted marshmallows, and many other foods undergo this reaction. It is named after French chemist Louis-Camille Maillard, who first described it in 1912 while attempting to reproduce biological protein synthesis.
The reaction is a form of non-enzymatic browning which typically proceeds rapidly from around 140 to 165 °C (284 to 329 °F). At higher temperatures, caramelization and subsequently pyrolysis become more pronounced.
The reactive carbonyl group of the sugar reacts with the nucleophilic amino group of the amino acid, and forms a complex mixture of poorly characterized molecules responsible for a range of odors and flavors. This process is accelerated in an alkaline environment (e.g., lye applied to darken pretzels), as the amino groups (RNH3+) are deprotonated and, hence, have an increased nucleophilicity. The type of the amino acid determines the resulting flavor. This reaction is the basis of the flavoring industry. At high temperatures, a potential carcinogen called acrylamide can be formed.
In the process, hundreds of different flavor compounds are created. These compounds, in turn, break down to form yet more new flavor compounds, and so on. Each type of food has a very distinctive set of flavor compounds that are formed during the Maillard reaction. It is these same compounds that flavor scientists have used over the years to make reaction flavors.
It was, and is, for food science and understanding how heat and cooking create flavors. If you want to dive deeper, the Warwick Medical School has an article on the Historical Development of the reaction, and NPR’s Food for Thought on the centenary of Malliard’s discovery posted 100 Years Ago, Maillard Taught Us Why Our Food Tastes Better Cooked.
But it was also very important to brewing, too, especially when it comes to malting and roasting malt to get different flavors and colors in the beer. For example, here’s UC Davis professor Charlie Bamforth writing about the Malliard Reaction in his book Grape vs. Grain.
Not surprisingly, John Mallett, in his recent book Malt: A Practical Guide from Field to Brewhouse, mentions Malliard’s contributions to brewing science.
Today is the birthday of William Frederick Wenzel (January 31, 1854-January 15, 1927). He was born in Germany, but moved to Wisconsin as a boy with his family. He was trained in a number of fields, but is best known in brewing circles for the Wenzel Filtermass, which became the standard for clarifying filters for breweries in the 19th century. Unfortunately, I could not find any photographs of Wenzel. This biography of Weznel is from a “History of Outagamie County, Wisconsin.”
And this obituary was published in the Post-Crescent of Appleton, Wisconsin, on April 25, 2917.
Today is the feast day of St. Veronus. He is the patron saint of Lambeek & Belgian brewers. He was also known as Veronus van Lembeek, and he was a professor or a farmhand (accounts differ) who lived in Belgium in the 9th century.
This short account of his life is from his Dutch Wikipedia page, translated by Google:
The life of Veronus is known from a hagiography written by Olbert van Gembloers around 1015-1020.
According to legend, Veronus was a great-grandson of Charlemagne. He left the parental home at the age of 15, because he did not want to get married, and ended up in Lembeek. Here he settled and served as a servant on a farmyard.
Once when he hammered a stick into the ground, water immediately bubbled from the ground. He told his twin sister, Saint Verona, where he would be buried after his death. A fallen tree would show her the way. After his death it happened as he had foreseen.
Woodcut of Veronus dressed as a pilgrim and holding a staff standing outside a farmhouse, where a woman is pouring liquid from a churn, from c.1516-8.
And this account is from Heiligen, a German website devoted to saints, also translated by Google.
Veronus was of fairly high descent. He is said to have been a cousin of Charles the Bald († 877). He left his parental home because he did not agree with the plans of his parents who liked to see him married and with an appropriate party. He himself walked around desiring to devote himself entirely to the service of God, and thus not to marry. On his departure, he informed his sister Verona (9th century; feast day, August 29) that in due time a sign would indicate the time and place of his death: a storm would arise and the trees would blow over and fall in towards the place where he is said to have died. After some wanderings, he ended up on a court farm in Lembeek. There he hired himself out as a farmhand. He lived a life of simplicity and service.
Legend tells how he drilled a well when he once planted his stick in the ground near the church. After all, according to the chronicles, he died “loved by God and by men.”
Indeed, his death was accompanied by the signs he had announced to his sister at the time. So she left in the indicated direction and ended up in Brabant. The horses stopped in Berchem. There she was told that she had to continue to Lembeek. She found her brother’s grave in the local church. The moment she entered the body emitted a wonderful scent. The tomb was opened and the dead was found completely intact. Over the centuries, the memory of Veronus faded. He is said to have appeared to a priest on the spot to remind him of his memory. The priest began to work for the restoration of the worship of Veronus, and the latter expressed his agreement by delighting many pilgrims with answers to prayers and other miracles.
Modern Usages
There’s a St. Veronus Cafe and Tap Room located in Peterborough, Ontario, Canada. They bill themselves as a Belgian restaurant and beer bar.
Today is the birthday of Martin Stelzer (January 30, 1815-August 3, 1894). Stelzer was an architect, probably from Germany, who built a number of homes in Plzeň, Czech Republic, such as “the old (small) Synagogue in Pilsen, the Little Theatre (formerly on Goethe Street) and a stone Saxon bridge in the suburbs of Roudná which has one rare feature, a sweep middle.” He was also hired by the local Burghers (or citizens) to build the town brewery, which today is known as the Pilsner Urquell brewery. He is also believed to have hired their first brewmaster, Josef Groll.
This biography is from the Pilsner Urquell website:
When it comes to the founding of Pilsner Urquell, Martin Stelzer remains one of the most important figures, though he is also one of the most misunderstood.
Often mischaracterized as a brewer, Martin Stelzer was the most famous builder in nineteenth-century Plzen — something like the unofficial town architect. Born in 1815, Stelzer had constructed more than two hundred buildings in Plzen by the time of his death in 1894, including such important sites as Old Synagogue of 1859 and the Small Theater of 1869.
When he was first hired to create the new town brewery in 1839, however, Stelzer was just 24 years old — and, most importantly, he had never built a brewery of any kind. (Later, he would be seen as something of an expert on the subject.) One special demand: the new brewery was supposed to be a cold-fermentation or lager brewery, something that did not exist in Plzen at the time. To familiarize himself with the requirements of the project, Stelzer traveled to Bavaria in December of 1839, visiting several breweries there.
A common rumor holds that Stelzer befriended Josef Groll, the first brewmaster of Pilsner Urquell, during this trip, or even that Stelzer brought Groll back to Plzen with him. However, no confirmation of this appears to have been published during Stelzer’s lifetime. It certainly seems possible that the two were friends, however, given the closeness of their age: the original brewmaster was less than a year and a half older than the architect.
In addition to directing the expansion of the Burghers’ Brewery in 1849 and 1852, as well as the construction of a new fermentation room in 1856, Stelzer designed and built the brewery’s enlarged cooperage in 1870. Stelzer’s other projects included the next-door Gambrinus brewery in 1869 and the Dobřany town brewery in 1873. He remains part of everyday lore in Plzen today, having given his first name to the street Martinská in central Plzen as early as 1857.
Local businessmen and tavern owners in Pilsen committed to raise funds and build a new brewery, to be called Burghers’ (Citizens’) Brewery. A leading architect, Martin Stelzer, was hired to design the brewery and he toured Europe and Britain to study modern breweries that used the new technologies of the Industrial Revolution—pure yeast strains, steam power, and artificial refrigeration—to make beer.
He returned to Pilsen to design a brewery on a site in the Bubenc district with a plentiful supply of soft water and sandstone foundations where deep cellars could be dug to store or “lager” beer. He also brought with him from Bavaria a brewer called Josef Groll who had the skills to make the new cold-fermented style of beer. See groll, josef. The brewery was built rapidly and its first batch of beer was unveiled at the Martinmas Fair on November 11, 1842. The beer astonished and delighted the people of Pilsen. It was a golden beer, the first truly pale beer ever seen in central Europe, for the lager beers brewed in Bavaria were a deep russet/brown in color as a result of barley malt being kilned or gently roasted over wood fires. A legend in Pilsen says the wrong type of malt was delivered to the brewery by mistake but this seems fanciful. It’s more likely that Martin Stelzer brought back from England a malt kiln indirectly fired by coke rather than directly fired by wood. This type of kiln that was used to make pale malt, the basis of the new style of beer brewed in England called pale ale. A model of a kiln in the Pilsen museum of brewing supports this theory.
At the start of the nineteenth century, the quality of beer everywhere was often poor and standards varied wildly. This prompted some of the Plzen’s conscientious and passionate brewers to band together to find a way of producing a beer of a superior and more consistent quality.
Their first decision was one of their finest, to appoint a young architect called Martin Stelzer. Traveling far and wide to study the best of brewery design he returned to Plzen with plans for the most modern brewery of the age.
He chose a site on the banks of the city‘s Radbuza River, which offered a number of natural advantages – sandstone rock for the easy carving of large tunnels for cold storage, and aquifers supplying the soft water which would one day help make Plzen’s finest beer so distinctive.
But, most importantly, Martin Stelzer also discovered a brewmaster who would change the way that beer was brewed forever: a young Bavarian called Josef Groll.
The original gate, which still stands at the brewery.
