The St. Louis Business Journal is reporting that Anheuser-Busch InBev is negotiating with Heineken to sell its Czech brands to the Dutch brewer. The paper places Staropramen’s valuation between $255 million and $306 million.

We’ve seen this before. Almost exactly a year ago, Heineken’s takeover of the Czech Drinks Union brands was given the green light. That move pushed Heineken into third place on the Czech market, just ahead of the legendary Budweiser Budvar, but still lower than Heineken’s traditional market share. At the time, Ron Pattinson sagely noted that Heineken doesn’t enter a market to take third place.

By purchasing Staropramen — and thus the group’s other brands Braník, Měšťan, Ostravar, Kelt, Velvet and Vratislav — Heineken would move to a very solid second place behind SAB Miller’s Pilsner Urquell group, standing roughly three times larger than still-state-owned Budweiser Budvar in third place (with around 30% of the Czech market vs. about 10%). It would combine the above-mentioned Staropramen brands with its current Czech portfolio of Krušovice, Hostan, Starobrno, Zlatopramen, Velké Březno, Louny and Kutná Hora.

Interestingly, the exit of Anheuser-Busch InBev from the Czech market might finally put an end to the idea of American Budweiser ever buying Czech Budweiser. However, Budweiser Budvar is still on schedule to be privatized in the next year or two. With its expanding presence here, Heineken would be a natural suitor. That would move it to around 40% market share, right behind SAB Miller’s approximate 49%.

What remains to be seen with the current takeover is if the Czech anti-monopoly office will rise from its slumber (prediction: not freakin’ likely). So assuming the takeover of Staropramen by Heineken goes forward, it might be time to name your Czech Beer Brand Dead Pool.

In Slovakia, for example, Heineken has shuttered many of the breweries they’ve purchased (such as Martiner and Corgoň), keeping the brands alive but moving production to the massive Hurbanovo brewery. And many of Staropramen’s brands here are similar zombies: Braník is no longer brewed at Braník; Měšťan is no longer brewed in Holešovice.

So make your predictions now. What Staropramen or Heineken breweries will be closed? How many more zombie beers will we see here? And will Heineken really end up buying Budvar Budvar?

NB: of the Czech brands that Heineken already owns, Hostan is pretty much over: it’s been partly brewed at Starobrno for ages. And over at Pivní deník, Honza Kočka jokingly predicts that it is the Staropramen brewery — located in prime real estate overlooking the Vltava river — that will end up being sold and turned into upscale loft apartments, just like what happened to the Holešovice brewery after Staropramen sold it. As always, “irony follows hubris” seems like a fairly safe bet.

There’s big news at the Czech Republic’s favorite state-owned brewery: after 24 years as the brewmaster at Budweiser Budvar, Josef Tolar is stepping aside to make room for new brewmaster Adam Brož.

In the picture above, Tolar passes Brož the Budweiser Budvar brewmaster’s ceremonial “wand of office,” an original Réaumur thermometer first used in 1895 by Budweiser Budvar’s founding brewmaster, Antonín Holeček. The 32-year-old Brož becomes Budweiser Budvar’s tenth master brewer.

So what does this mean for the beer?

In practical terms, virtually nothing: despite some claims to the contrary, Budvar has made its name in not innovating, not changing, and not trying to fix what isn’t broken. Expect the same great lagers to come from Brož as those you enjoyed during Tolar’s tenure.

But of course there’s a chance that Brož might be more open to some new ideas that are still in line with Budvar’s traditions and identity. Though those of us here in the Czech Republic drink it daily, Budvar remains a premium brand and an absolutely world-class lager.

If I could suggest anything at all, it would be for Budvar to consider something along the lines of Fuller’s Brewer’s Reserve, a limited-release, oak-aged ale released in numbered bottles and packaged in attractive gift boxes. (Watch this space for a forthcoming review of bottle no. 22623.) That is, Budvar is a premium brand, so why not do something super-premium, if only for the export and specialty market?

Just a thought. For now, raise your glass to celebrate the achievements of Josef Tolar — who won brewmaster of the year just last November — and welcome Adam Brož. And don’t worry too much about Budvar: after overseeing the production of 22 million hectoliters of beer during his time as brewmaster, Mr. Tolar will remain on the Budvar board with a special responsibility for the brewery’s future development.

Herewith is the list of those who have created great lagers in the city of Budweis.

Brewmasters at Budweiser Budvar

Antonín Holeček, 1.4.1895–31.3.1899
František Felix, 1.4.1899-31.12.1908
Josef Brych, 1.1.1909–26.2.1919
Vladimír Kořán, 1.3.1919-31.12.1935
Dr. Ing. Oldřich Miškovský, 1.1.1936–30.4.1942
Ing. Václav Rambousek, 1.5.1942–10.4.1948
Rudolf Smolík, 1.1.1949–31.7.1959
Miloš Heide, 1.8.1959–31.12.1984
Ing. Josef Tolar, 1.1.1985–31.12.2008
Ing. Adam Brož, 1.1.2009–present

Beer geeks everywhere are talking about the small Scottish brewery BrewDog, and for good reason: despite being just a couple of years old — meaning very young — they’re already putting out some head-turningly good beers, and backing them up with a masterful PR game.

One of their recent nice moves on the marketing pitch: offering a sampler of prototype beers and asking drinkers to pick their favorites. Among the prototypes was Zeit Geist, “a 5.1% Black lager taking inspiration from the Czech classics.” As an imitation of a clasic Czech dark lager, it was just begging to be compared to three classics of the genre: Bernard’s speciální černé pivo, Bohemia Regent tmavý ležák and Budweiser Budvar tmavý ležák.

So how does the Scottish upstart compare to the old masters?

In terms of overall drinkability, I would say it wins. And in the case of Bohemia Regent and Budvar dark, Zeit Geist doesn’t just beat them — it pushes them in the gutter and takes their lunch money. Here’s how they stacked up.

Bernard speciální černé pivo: This beer had the nicest, fluffiest and longest-lasting head, pouring a very deep amber, almost black with a pronounced nose of Dutch cocoa. It was sweeter than Budvar but less sweet than Bohemia Regent, and much sweeter than Zeit Geist (more on this later). In the mouth there were notes of cocoa and biscuity malt. A great beer.

Bohemia Regent 12° tmavý ležák: This beer had the least long-lasting head and was lightest in color: deep amber, but far from black. There were cola notes in the nose and a gingery sweetness in the mouth. It was the sweetest of all four, with a clumsy, saccharine finish.

Budweiser Budvar tmavý ležák: This beer had the second longest-lasting head, fluffy creamy color, second darkest color, but the nose had weird cooked-vegetable notes. It had a thin body, and, in comparison to Bernard and Zeit Geist, was not terribly charismatic. It turned out to be the least appealing of all four, making me think that this was perhaps a bad bottle.

Brewdog Zeit Geist: Virtually identical in color to Bernard, though not as long-lasting in the foam department. The nose smells conspicuously like smoked malt, and there’s a pronounced Rauchbier taste in the mouth. Very nice, and reminiscent of their Rip Tide stout in the body with a strong astringence in the finish.

Bernard, as usual, was excellent; the Bohemia Regent and Budvar versions were disappointing. But here’s the thing: although I really liked Zeit Geist, I don’t think it tasted very Czech, certainly not like the other three beers, which easily stood together in a group: Zeit Geist was far more dry in the finish, far more of a German Schwarzbier than a Czech tmavý ležák. If I had known this, I would have compared it to Herold Bohemian Black Lager, one of the only dry dark lagers in the Czech lands.

In any case, it was interesting to see what Scottish brewers think a Czech dark lager should taste like. If I understand it correctly, Zeit Geist didn’t make the cut in the voting, so I’m not sure if we’ll ever see it produced: my prototype bottle, visible at the right of the picture at the top of the page, didn’t have a label or any means of identification beyond the cap. As it turns out, Brew Dog’s contest winner was a beer in the style of yet another country: Chaos Theory, an absolutely outstanding, extremely complex take on an hoppy, citrus-scented American IPA.

On Wednesday, November 19, the Sdružení přátel piva held its annual awards ceremony for the greatest beers, breweries, and the best brewmaster in the Czech Republic.

Often rendered in English as the Union of Friends of Beer, the SPP is the Czech beer consumers’ organization, a counterpart to the Campaign for Real Ale and other fellow members of the European Beer Consumers Union, similarly working to promote quality beer and preserve local beer traditions. Though there are many beer awards in the lager-loving Czech Republic, the SPP awards are among the most prestigious and most anticipated such ceremonies on the Czech beer calendar.

The awards, handed out this year inside the cozy beer hall on the Budweiser Budvar brewery grounds, went to the following:

For 10° (desítka) beer of the year — a category of beers of moderate alcohol and the most commonly consumed type of beer in the country — the winners were:

First Place: Moravské Sklepní nefiltrované from Černá Hora
Second place: Pardál světlé výčepní pivo from Budvar
Third place: Budweiser Budvar světlé výčepní pivo

For 11° (jedenáctka) beer of the year — a category of medium body and alcohol — the winners were:

First Place: Ležák 11° from Pivovar Klášter
Second place: Otakar ležák from Polička
Third place: Svijanský Maz from Svijany

For 12° (dvanáctka) beer of the year — premium lagers of the classic “Bohemian Pilsner” style — the winners were:

First Place: Sváteční ležák from Bernard
Second place: Pilsner Urquell
Third place: Opat from Pivovar Broumov

For Speziál of the year — a category of higher-gravity special lagers — the winners were:

First Place: Primátor Exklusiv 16° from Pivovar Náchod
Second place: Kvasar from Černá Hora
Third place: Démon from Lobkowicz

For dark beer of the year:

First Place: Budweiser Budvar tmavý ležák
Second place: Speciální černé pivo from Bernard
Third place: Svijanská Kněžna from Svijany

For polotmavý pivo of the year — half-dark and amber lagers — the winners were:

First Place: Skalák from Rohozec
Second place: Primátor Pale Ale from Pivovar Náchod
Third place: Primátor polotmavé 13° from Pivovar Náchod

For non-alcoholic beer of the year — a growth category in the Czech lands — the winners were:

First Place: Bernard Free Jantar (amber)
Second place: Bernard Free (pale)
Third place: Svijanská Vozka from Svijany

For minipivovar of the year — “mini brewery,” aka “brewpub” — the winners were:

First Place: Prague’s Klášterní Pivovar Strahov
Second place: Pivovarský dvůr Chýně
Third place: Malostranský pivovar in Velké Meziříčí

For brewery of the year:

First Place: Svijany
Second place: Budweiser Budvar
Third place: Pivovar Náchod (Primátor)

For sládek roku, brewmaster of the year:

Ing. Josef Tolar from Budweiser Budvar

In addition to the awards, there were plenty of great brews on hand. Klášterní Pivovar Strahov brought its wonderful Autumn Dark, made with this year’s fresh Saaz hop harvest, which tasted even better — with much more hop bite in the finish — than last year’s version; the brewery’s excellent wheat beer provided a nice light counterpoint. Both the 11° and 12° pale lagers from Pivovar Polička were on draft, as was just about everything from Budweiser Budvar; the only Budvar beer I didn’t see there was the oft-maligned Bud Super Strong.

After the awards ceremony, the attendees went on a tour of the Budweiser Budvar brewery led by brewmaster Josef Tolar himself. I’ve been on the public tour at Budvar before, but this was the first time I saw so much behind the scenes and got to ask so many questions. (Q: What hops are used in the new love-it-or-hate-it Pardál? A: 100% Czech hops of the Angus variety, due to its higher alpha-acid content than the traditional Saaz hops used in Budvar. Q: When did Budvar complete its switch from open fermenters to cyclindro-conical tanks? A: 1996.)

Unfortunately, we didn’t get to stop in Budvar’s chmelárna, or hop room, which was a bit of a disappointment: Garrett Oliver once described the intensity of the hop aroma getting stronger and stronger as you take the slow freight elevator down into the chmelárna, and how the scent of all those hops — Budvar uses only whole Saaz hop flowers, no pellets or extracts — is nearly overwhelming once you’re actually in the room.

It was a great day out. Members of the Polish Bractwo Piwne, another European Beer Consumers Union member group, were also in attendance, as was Toshi Ishii, brewmaster from Japan’s Yo-Ho Brewing Co. I asked Miroslav Šmejda of Primátor about the brewery’s new stout, who said to look for it in Prague at Kaufland stores sometimes next month. Everyone seemed to have a great time: winners, losers, and especially lovers of great Czech beer.

And then, just a few minutes before we were supposed to take the bus back to Prague, Zbyněk Holan and Tomáš Maier from SPP told me to come with them. As the party continued, Mr. Tolar broke away from the celebrations and led us back across the darkened brewery grounds. He made a quick call on his mobile. A moment later, a Budvar employee arrived, opening the doors to the freight elevator for the hop room.

A couple of days ago, we wondered out loud what beers would be present at the first annual Czech Beer Festival, which takes place 23 May–1 June 2008. As we asked then,

Will Janáček serve its Comenius? Will Jihlava offer Jihlavský Grand? Or will it all be 10° and 12° světlý ležák, the pale lagers that dominate 95% of all local consumption?

We now have the answers: Yes, Yes, and No!

Color us at least slightly impressed: We’ve just received the finalized beer list from the organizers and not only are Jihlavský Grand and Comenius ready to be tapped, but several other great brews from small producers should also be waiting for you over at the Výstaviště exhibition grounds. (We also have a 3-D map diagram thingy you can print up to help plan your session.)

Here are the beers that are supposed to be there, organized by tent and/or brewing group.

Budějovický Budvar

• Budweiser Budvar světlý ležák

K Brewery Group

Černá Hora

• Páter 11° světlý ležák
• Kvasar 14° speciální světlé pivo s přídavkem med

Svijany

• Svijanský máz 11° světlý ležák
• Kvasničák

Janáček

• Patriot 11° světlé výčepní pivo
• Comenius 14° světlý speciál

Jihlava

• Ježek 11°
• Ježek 18° (Jihlavský Grand)

Platan

• Platan 11° světlý ležák
• Platan Granát tmavý ležák

Rohozec

• Skalák 11° světlý ležák
• Skalák 12° světlý ležák premium

Hols (Pivovar Konrad)

• Konrad tmavý 11°
• Konrad světlý 11°

Pilsner Urquell / SABMiller

• Pilsner Urquell
• Radegast světlé výčepní 10°
• Radegast světlé výčepní 12°
• Radegast Birrell (nonalcoholic)
• Velkopopovický kozel tmavé 10°
• Velkopopovický kozel světlé 10°
• Velkopopovický kozel medium 11°
• Gambrinus výčepní světlé 10°
• Gambrinus výčepní světlé 12°

Staropramen

• Staropramen Granát, ležák polotmavý
• Staropramen Ležák, ležák světlý
• Staropramen Světlý, výčepní světlé
• Staropramen Černý, ležák tmavý
• Ostravar Světlý, výčepní světlé
• Braník, ležák světlý
• Braník, výčepní světlé

That’s 30 beers and 1 nonalcoholic brew, if I’ve counted correctly.

Confused about what to order? Some off-the-cuff recommendations:

Session Beer: Svijanský Máz, Skalák 11° or Páter 11° (all K Brewing Tent), or Ostravar Světlý (Staropramen Tent)

Yeast Beer: Svijany Kvasničák (K Brewing Tent)

Doppelbock / Strong Lager: Jihlavský Grand (K Brewing Tent)

Bock / Medium-Strong Lager: Comenius (K Brewing Tent)

Classic Czech Pilsner style: Rohozec 12° (K Brewing Tent), Pilsner Urquell (Pilsner Urquell Tent)

Amber Lager / Vienna Lager: Staropramen Granát (Staropramen Tent)

Dark Lager: Konrad tmavý 11° (Pivovar Konrad / Hols Tent), Platan Granát (K Brewing Tent)

Flavored Beer: Kvasar (K Brewing Tent), a 14° pale lager with honey.

Here’s the map, which should click to a larger, slightly more legible version:

Get it? The “vstup” at the bottom is where you walk in. You’ll first encounter Radegast and Velkopopvický Kozel (tents 1, 2 and 3), then a long, long Pilsner Urquell tent (4), after which you come to the Budvar tent (5). Fans of smaller producers will want to cut over to the left to the tent for “Pivovar Hols,” aka Konrad (9), or the long tent of the beers from K Brewery Group (6).

That’s how it looks from here. If you do want to know more about the beers you’re enjoying, I’ve just been told that copies of Good Beer Guide: Prague and the Czech Republic should be available for purchase somewhere on the festival grounds.

Na zdraví!

Here are a few more photos from Prague’s Salesian Beer Museum, an “accidental” collection of more than 2,000 bottles, 4,000 beermats and the weird, beer-themed collectibles known as breweriana, many of which come from the Czech lands.

Looking through the shelves, I was struck by how much evidence these artifacts provide for the way people here once lived, as well as a contrast to the way we live now. One of the most interesting items in the collection is the advertising placard (above) for the Měšťanský pivovar na Královských Vinohradech, the brewery in the Vinohrady neighborhood which ran from 1893 to 1943, along with scores of other beer makers once working in the Czech capital. In a sign of changing priorities, the Vinohrady brewery has recently been converted into luxury apartments.

So we don’t need historic breweries — we need plush digs. But our old beer culture had at least one advantage: much better graphic design, as witnessed by the museum’s collection of unusual beermats.

While many current pubs just serve beer on the branded mats they get from their beer suppliers, the Salesian Beer Museum has a collection from brewers as well as individual pubs, which often had their own well-designed coasters, many of which marvelously reflect the great history of Czech and Slovak typography and graphic design. The next time I meet one of my publican friends in Prague, I’m going to ask why his place doesn’t have custom beermats instead of the generics handed over by the delivery guy. Design is an important means of communicating many things on many levels, often going far beyond mere words. Using your beer supplier’s cheap, standard beermats seems to say that, as a bar owner, you simply don’t care. Not such a classy message.

Among the bottles, I found examples from both Pivovar Benešov and Pivovar Holešovice. Located less than an hour south of Prague, Pivovar Benešov is still hanging on, making the very good Ferdinand beers that are stocked at Prague’s Ferdinanda pub.

Pivovar Holešovice in Prague is a different story. My mother-in-law said that when she was growing up in Holešovice during and just after the war, her father used to send her to the brewery to pick up a pitcher of beer for dinner. Always, she said, she was sent to buy the brewery’s 8° lager, which probably had at most 3% alcohol by volume. Today, almost no one here brews such table beers. And somewhat unsurprisingly, the old Holešovice brewery is also being converted into luxury apartments.

Even the tiniest text on a label can hide some interesting details. Check out the bottles from Opava’s Zlatovar brewery, which has recently been sold to a group of Irish real estate developers who plan to convert it into a shopping center. In the middle is the brewery’s 12° lager, shown being served in dimpled glasses by a fully clothed waitress whose underwear doesn’t even scratch off. See the part that says “Obsah alkoholu min. 3,1%”? That is very low for a 12° lager, right? Not really — before, labels here listed amount of alcohol by weight, not by volume. (As an ABV, that works out to about 3.9% — still a bit low, but not ridiculous.) Were our 12° beers really weaker — and thus even sweeter — back in the day?

And here is the promotional bottle I mentioned in the earlier post, a German Budvar flaška that holds two full liters, though it is proportioned to look just like a normal one, thus creating a sudden sense of gigantism when you see it. The bottle is marked as coming from “Tschechoslowakei,” and it bears witness to the days when Budvar was shoring up support in Germany in its fight for the name controlled by Anheuser-Busch: this one label says “Budweiser” three times, as well as one use of the parenthetical “(Budweis),” in a big push to get the point across. (Easy guys — we get it.)

Of course, no collection would be complete without its own bottles, and it turns out the Salesians in Prague have brewed and bottled four of their own beers, perhaps the rarest brews in the country. (Don’t ask: there aren’t any left.)

On that note, we’ve received a pile of new beer-themed goodies to hand out in our big Beer Culture reader-contest-slash-giveaway, which runs through March: shirts and glasses from Pivovarský klub, hats and shirts from the Ostravar and Staropramen breweries, as well as some great incoming swag from Pilsner Urquell.

Getting your hands on this stuff is simple: just send a beer-flavored haiku to GBGPrague@gmail.com and you’re entered in the contest. (Send two and you’re entered twice.) And don’t overlook the beer poetry contest at A Good Beer Blog, which has even cooler (meaning Canadian) stuff to give away.

Who knows — the prizes you win from us could form the foundations of your very own beer museum.

There’s more news in the Budvar privatization saga: the Czech government’s tender for an adviser is now complete, with the contract going to the Prague law firm of Kříž & Bělina, as the Prague Daily Monitor reported yesterday, via Hospodářské noviny (subscription required). Kříž & Bělina will help the Czech government take the initial step toward privatization, that of turning Budvar into a joint-stock company.

Though the path forward remains unclear, we now know four of the parties stumbling down it: the Czech government, Budvar, Kříž & Bělina and, inevitably, Anheuser-Busch, described in the article as “considered the most serious bidder in the privatisation.” The article also takes a stab in the dark at Budvar’s worth, suggesting 1 billion dollars or perhaps even 1 billion euros.

Why so much? Well, it’s not what Budvar sells, currently just 1.25 million hectoliters of high-grade lager per year. It’s what Budvar’s regional rights to the name Budweiser might keep Anheuser-Busch from selling.

Some back-of-the-beermat math: if you figured, very optimistically, that Budvar could generate a profit of $.30 on every half-liter — which only wholesale for about $1 on the local market anyway — that would only come out to about $37 million annually. The latest figure I could find was for 2006, when Budvar earned 267.2 million Kč, or about $15.7 million at today’s rates. There are many ways to calculate the sale price of a company, but as far as I know, very few of them suggest multiplying a company’s annual take by a hundred.

However, once you factor in all of those countries around the world where Budvar has the right to use the name Budweiser, then throw in all the money that Anheuser-Busch has spent on billable hours, you end up with a very large number. I personally can’t count that high, so I’ll shrug and say $1 billion. Sure.

More details from the report:

• Kříž & Bělina are getting 12.5 million CZK (about $777,000) for the job of helping convert Budvar to a joint-stock company.

• Another tender, later, will choose another adviser for the actual sale of Budvar.

• Prague Airport and Czech Airlines should both be privatized before Budvar.

• Again, Czech Agriculture Minister Petr Gandalovič says that Budvar should not be privatized before the end of 2008.

People who know people who know things have just passed the message that the price for Budvar won’t have anything to do with Budvar’s annual sales, cash flow or profits, and it won’t have anything to do with the brewery itself in České Budějovice. It is only about the brand — period. I’ve been told that I should make it clear that the brand in question is, of course, Budweiser.

Sometimes when anonymous tips come through they sign off in ominous ways. Like this: “The Budvar trademark isn’t worth jack.”

The world seems to have gone beer-haiku crazy: just 24 hours after our month-long reader contest was announced and we’ve already spawned a lengthy and very funny beer-haiku thread at Ratebeer, got a shout-out from Nunc Scio (cool) and the always-excellent Beer Haiku Daily (those guys are pros) and been challenged to a beer-poetry-contest-contest by A Good Beer Blog.

And we already have our first winners.

Our very first entry comes from James Gogarty in Roztoky u Prahy, who ponders one of life’s great beer mysteries: foam or no foam?

Europeans give,
those bloody Britons do not,
a full inch of head.

I like it when we talk about the deep stuff. James wins the bottle of beer shower gel from Manufaktura.

There are three winners so far in the rhyming division. The first rhymed entry and an automatic winner is from Michael Halligan, whose work describes the mood-elevating affects of great Czech lagers:

Tap handle pulled down
pouring luscious liquid out
smile out of a frown

Michael gets an A for effort and the Budweiser Budvar mouse pad. Send us your mailing address, hoss.

The next winner comes from Martin Thibault of Montreal, Canada, who celebrates the legendary king of Flanders and the namesake of the other beer from Pilsen, as well as the annual holiday for the rest of us:

Avé Gambrinus
For this soulful Světlé and
Tmavé Festivus

For incorporating words from Latin, Czech and Seinfeld, Martin wins the talking Budweiser Budvar bottle opener pictured above. (“Yeahhh!”)

A slew of nice haiku arrived from Matěj Novák of Toronto, Canada. The best four:

Homer says, “Mmm, beer,”
then goes to Moe’s for a few,
causing Marge to sneer.

Ale, lager, porter
and stout. The others I’ll get
to in short order.

Five syllables then
seven, then five more about
beer: a beer haiku.

I drink, therefore I
am drunk. I drink beer, therefore
I pee frequently.

Matěj is a former coworker and a close friend, but I believe the last entry overcomes any fear of favoritism. Matěj wins a special prize TBD.

For the following rounds, Prague’s Pivovarský klub has promised a bunch of beer glasses from regional Czech breweries as well as shirts, gift certificates and other goodies. Many thanks to Pivovarský klub, to Budweiser Budvar and to Pivovar Bašta for all the prizes donated so far. And special thanks to Staropramen, who has just offered to send out complete prize packets including Staropramen T-shirts, baseball caps and bottle openers for three of the the next lucky winners.

NEWS FLASH: Pivovarský klub will be closed for a private party on the evening of Thursday, March 6 (tomorrow), so don’t try to go there then. But do visit anytime on or after Friday, March 7, as they currently have the wonderful Märzen from Pivovarský dům on draft and will soon tap the Easter honey lager from Opat, as well as U Medvídků’s new plum beer, described by Max Bahnson over at Pivní Filosof.

Between starting this post and putting it up, I’ve received another set of beer haiku, many of which are absolutely outstanding. Stay tuned for more winners following a post about the weirdest beer museum in Prague.

Tempus fugit, amigos: Beer Culture has been live for eleven and a half weeks and we’re now serving 6,500 page views per month, spreading the word about beer culture in the Czech Republic and Central Europe to 65 countries so far. As a means of promoting Czech brewing and saying thanks, we’re announcing a big beer-themed giveaway, by which we mean a reader contest.

But first, it is time for haiku.

That is to say the art form known as beer haiku. I first encountered the beast on the beermats (above) created by David Wheatley for the excellent Whalebone brewpub up in Hull. David is a friend, so when the mats were published he sent along a set; the poems were also included in his latest collection, Mocker. A favorite:

A pub is a boat.
It sails on froth. Each pint pulled
helps keep it afloat.

As it turns out, beer and haiku go along so well that some people even write beer haiku daily. Thus, our first reader contest: write a haiku with a beer theme and send it to the email address of Good Beer Guide Prague and the Czech Republic (also known as GBGPrague@gmail.com). If it’s good enough, your entry could win one of the excellent prizes donated by some of our favorite Czech breweries and pubs, including shirts, glassware and more.

Herewith the rules.

• Entries must follow the traditional form of haiku in the West: seventeen syllables total, written in three lines with a first line of five syllables, a second line of seven syllables and a third line of five syllables.

• The haiku must have a beer or pub theme.

• It is not necessary to rhyme the first and third lines. (However, nicely rhymed entries will receive extra credit.)

• The first well-rhymed entry automatically wins a prize.

• The entry with the most remote mailing address (i.e., greatest distance from Prague) automatically wins a prize.

• Just as with the ratings of the beers in Good Beer Guide Prague and the Czech Republic, the haiku will be judged with a dash of our own subjective, capricious whimsy.

• Haiku may be submitted in English, Czech, Slovak, French or German.

• By entering, you agree to let us publish your haiku and your name on Beer Culture.

• Entries will be accepted through March 31.

That’s just about it. We’re still receiving more prizes from donors, so we can’t give you a complete list of what you can pick up yet. But here’s what we’ve got so far:

A polo shirt from Prague’s newest brewpub, Pivovar Bašta!

A polo shirt from Budweiser Budvar!

A mouse pad from Budweiser Budvar!

A bottle opener from Budweiser Budvar that goes “Yeahhh!” when you open your bottle!

A bar of beer soap!

Bottles of beer shampoo and beer shower gel!

A copy of Good Beer Guide Prague and the Czech Republic!

More prizes are forthcoming; we’ll announce them here as we receive them. For now, all you have to do is turn over a beermat the next time you’re in the pub, work up a decent haiku (5-7-5) between pints and email that little guy in to GBGPrague@gmail.com. For example, something like:

It is not so hard
to write a beery haiku—
pivo fills my heart.

We’ll be announcing the winners and the prizes in new posts throughout the month of March, so stay tuned and be sure to tell your friends, as we’ve honestly got more prizes coming in than we know what to do with. When you think about it, a decent haiku is a small price to pay for a Budweiser Budvar bottle opener — especially one that goes “Yeahhh!”

Here’s an interesting bit from the Czech news wires: an article at actualne.cz notes that the term “Czech beer” is moving closer to protected name status. Much like the AOCs and DOCs of the wine world, the special status will mean that brewers in the EU can only use the term “české pivo” if the beer is, in fact, brewed in the Czech Republic, as well as if it meets certain requirements of ingredients and quality.

If the application is successful, “české pivo” will join 10 other Czech geographically protected names in the EU, including “žatecký chmel” (“Saaz hops”). The big one that’s missing outside the country itself (barring “Budweiser,” of course), is “Pilsner,” used all over the world for widely different beers of varying ingredients and varying quality, even though it originally meant a certain style of beer from a certain place: a clear golden lager from the west Bohemian town of Plzeň, known as Pilsen in German. I can’t remember how many times I’ve heard people say it’s too bad the Czechs didn’t retain control over the name.

Ah, but they tried.

According to an article in the New York Times of December 25, 1910, “United States Circuit Court Judge Hough is considering an application by the Brewers’ Association of Pilsen, Bohemia, for an injunction restraining an importer from using the word ‘Pilsner’ to describe the Bohemian beer brewed outside that municipality.” The upshot: a distributor in New York was selling beer from the Bohemian town of Aussig (in Czech, Ústí nad Labem, presumably today’s Zlatopramen brewery) under the name “Pilsner.”

“The contention of the Pilsen Brewers’ Association is that no genuine Pilsner beer can be brewed outside of Pilsen,” the article continues, noting that US Treasury Department rulings on sardines (from Sardinia) and Malaga grapes gave their case legal precedents. The article, however, undermines their argument by itself referring to Pilsner beer as a style, not a specific product from a specific place. “It is contended that Pilsner has become by usage in the beer trade simply a descriptive title applying to beer brewed in a certain manner,” it says, noting that a local brewer “makes a specialty of brewing Pilsner beer in Brooklyn,” selling it as “Pilsner” in conjunction with the name of his brewery.

I mentioned this in an email to Garrett Oliver, author of The Brewmaster’s Table and brewmaster at Brooklyn Brewery, who noted that German brewers use the name “Pils” in order to avoid just this conflict. (And when “Pilsner” is used as the name of a German beer, it appears with an adjectival place name so it’s clear precisely where the beer is from, as in the case of Radeberger Pilsner, brewed in the Saxon town of Radeberg, just outside Dresden.)

It’s pretty clear how the US ruling from 1910 worked out, as many American beers — and indeed, beers all over the world — now call themselves “Pilsner.” Here, of course, I use the terms “Pilsner-style beer” or “Czech golden lager” when referring to brews that are not Pilsner Urquell. That is because in the Czech Republic, there is only one Pilsner, and everything else that is similar is pivo plzeňského typu, or “beer of the Pilsner type.”

In the big picture, this story is just a small historical footnote, but it does provide an interesting context to the story of Budvar’s fight with Anheuser-Busch today, as well as Pilsner Urquell’s decision to brew new beers with the same name in Russia and Poland.

Just imagine, for example, if Anheuser-Busch were somehow forced to rename their product “Budweiser-style beer.” Or imagine if every brewery in Germany produced a golden lager called “Bud,” alternately labeled something like “Radeberger Budweiser.”

It’s a weird image, I admit. As for “Czech beer,” it doesn’t seem like a bad idea to limit its use to beers that are in fact Czech, produced from 100% barley malt and Saaz hops. But labels can only do so much. If consumers don’t pay attention to how beers actually taste — buying, for example, low-quality brews ostensibly produced from high-quality ingredients — the term “Czech beer” could end up being a distinction without much difference. In many countries, that’s exactly what happened to “Pilsner.”