We were on Dlouhá, close to Lokál, and Jonas was just waking up from his afternoon nap; I was wet from the rainstorm that had just passed. I was pushing his carriage towards a couple of errands and then home when I saw a friend from the Prague beer scene ahead of us on the sidewalk.

“How are things?” he asked, smiling.

“Good but busy,” I said. “I started brewing.”

“How much?” he asked.

I did some quick math. “Zero point twenty-two hectoliters.”

“And what kind of beer?”

“Well, the first batch was a saison, because it was 29 degrees in the apartment last week.”

“Perfect.”

“Yeah, it smells like black pepper. Tastes great. And today Jonas and I are going to brew a wit.”

“A wit sounds good right about now.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Do you know there’s going to be a new pub here, called the Prague Beer Museum, with something like 30 Czech craft beers on draft?”

“Where, around the corner somewhere?”

“No, right there on Dlouhá. There,” I said, pointing across the street.  ”Where the Tom Tom Bar used to be.”

“So something like Zlý Časy?”

“Yeah, only here in the center.”

“Great news. Oh, and before I forget,” he said, “today we’re brewing the Grodziskie.”

“Wow. Where’d you get the…”

“Yeast?”

“No, the malt.”

“We’re using smoked malt from Weyermann. But the yeast we got direct from Grodzisk.”

“So, in about a month?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “In about a month.”

And with that my boddhisatva said goodbye, shaking my hand and touching Jonas’s cheek before striding deeper into Old Town. And as we pushed off down Dlouhá towards our errands, and then home, both of us were grinning.

Other than industrial juggernauts like Stella Artois and Heineken, imported beers are not often seen in the Czech lands, with very few brews arriving from across the border to the north. Some non-spectacular Polish beers have previously shown up in bottles. But this week, Pivovarský dum is holding the Days of Polish Beer, with four brews from Poland specially chosen and brought in by the Bractwo Piwne, in conjunction with SPP, their cousins in the European Beer Consumers Union.

At the introductory event yesterday afternoon, a cellar full of Czech beer fans got ask questions about Polish beer culture (including Grodziskie) and try the brews, most of which will be around for the rest of this week. Here’s what’s on tap.

From the family-run Browar Amber in Gdańsk:

Amber Żiwe (6.2%). This is an unfiltered golden special that is clear enough to appear filtered, originally brewed at 14.5° though light as a Czech 11° in body (and less colorful to boot). It’s got a slightly minty hop aroma and a pleasant maltiness. Overall, quite nice — and, typical of many Polish brews, stronger than you’d expect.

Amber Kozlák (6.5%). This is an amber bock with a malty nose and a beautiful clear amber color (pictured above). In the mouth there are raspberry and plum notes and a slightly tannic, leathery finish. Really very good — so good, in fact, that it appears to have sold out immediately.

From Browary Łódzkie in Łódź:

Łódzkie Mocne (7%). Brewed at 15°, this is a clear, pale gold, strong lager with a fluffy white head and little discernible hop aroma. Easy-drinking, and probably much lower in alcohol than is claimed.

Łódzkie Glob Premium (4.5%). A clear gold Pilsner-style brew with a slightly thin, American-lager-style body, and a semi-dry finish with very little bitterness.

Thus, two highly recommended brews, two easy drinkers — and some news about Polish beer culture that directly relates to beer in the Czech Republic and anywhere else in the world.

For example, in a parallel to the recent takeover of the Czech Republic’s four Drinks Union breweries by Heineken, Bractwo Piwne member Krzysztof Jóźwiak noted that Heineken originally purchased 11 breweries in Poland, though they only have seven now. Four were shuttered.

As for Grodziskie, the legendary smoked beer also known as Grätzer, I asked about the rumor that it might be poised for a comeback. No news, our Polish brethren said. If Grodziskie is going to return, at least three members of Bractwo Piwne haven’t heard about it. There are not even any homebrewers in Poland who make Grodziskie, if I understood correctly, as part of the problem is that no one produces Grodziskie-style smoked wheat malt anymore.

The members of Bractwo Piwne will be around town all this week, including heading to the Czech Beer Festival on Friday, the festival’s opening day. The remaining Polish beers on tap at Pivovarský klub, however, probably won’t even last that long. If you’re curious, try them now.

Since the EU entry of Poland and the Czech Republic in 2004, many Czech brewers have been expanding their exports to the north, and just about every year a sizeable contingent from the Polish Bractwo Piwne comes south to check out the winners at the Czechs’ SPP beer awards. However, both cases are about Poles enjoying Czech beers, and the interest does not appear to cross the border in both directions: the Czech Republic does not import many beers of any kind, and certainly very few come from the land of Lech.

However, a few Polish brews have showed up recently at Pivovarský klub, so I picked up bottles of Perła and Ciechan Miedowe Niefiltrowane for a tasting.

Perła Chmielowa Pils (500-milliliter bottle / 6% ABV)
Pours a bright clear gold and quite fizzy with a loose white head that disappears within moments. The nose has only a slight touch of malt. In the mouth, a thin body is followed by a thin finish and just a hint of hop bitterness by Czech standards, in contrast to the “chmielowa” on the label. Despite being brewed at 12.2°, it ends up with a strong 6% ABV (versus 4.4% ABV for Pilsner Urquell). The alcohol is well-incorporated, but the deep fermentation reduces its heft: this is a fairly watery “pils” rather than the rich malt body of Pilsner Urquell or the similarly busty brews from Rychtář, Bernard, Opat or Svijany.

Ciechan Miedowe Niefiltrowane (500-milliliter bottle / 6.2% ABV)
This unfiltered honey beer pours a cloudy gold with a loose chalk head that dies quickly. The nose smells strongly of honey, most likely from the addition of “natural aroma” listed on the label. In the mouth, an initial sour bite fades to a lush saccharine rush and a medicinal flavor akin to that of honey-flavored candy. Compared to the Czech honey beers from Sentice’s Pivovar Kvasar and Rambousek in Hradec Králové, this is far sweeter and much more chemical in taste. The label says that this is Piwo Roku (beer of the year) 2006 from Browar Roku (brewery of the year) 2006.

It’s interesting to note that the two Polish brews are quite high in alcohol, compared to similar Czech beers, and I should point out that this is just a random sampling of what showed up at the local bottle shop — I’m certain there are even better surprises hiding in Poland. Like Ron Pattinson, I’m hoping for the return of Grodziskie, described in Michael Jackson’s Beer Companion as “an extremely pale golden beer, with a faint haze of sediment, a dense white head, and a surprisingly light body,” and with “a sourish, sappy, oaky aroma (like a box that had held smoked herring), and a smoky, dry, crisp palate.” Mmm, smoked herring boxes…

Checking out the neighbors can give you an interesting perspective on things at home. Next I’ll be writing about a syrupy new 10% ABV lager from Velké Březno that seems to be brewed exclusively for the German market, as well as an interesting dark beer from Slovakia. And if you’ve got a recommendation for a good beer from Poland or anywhere else, please drop it in the comments box.