This summer I helped a TV crew from the Discovery Channel film brewers and breweries around the Czech Republic. Along the way, we saw some interesting things at U Medvídků, Chodovar and Pilsner Urquell. And of course we got to try some excellent lagers.

Above is a shot of Pilsner Urquell’s senior trade brewmaster Václav Berka getting ready to talk on camera in front of the kettles. I’m not sure if that or anything else from the Czech Republic filming will make it into the final cut of the show, but I do know that the program is supposed to include Charlie Bamforth and Sam Calagione, and it has been given a title and theme that it didn’t have when we were working on it.

More importantly, it’s airing tonight, December 18, at 8 p.m. on the Discovery Channel, with further broadcasts at midnight tonight and January 2 at 6 p.m.

In addition to the Czech brewmasters, I also did an interview, and at this point I have no idea if I said anything coherent. I do remember it was a very warm 37° C and I had to stand in direct sunlight with a reflector directing even more light into my eyes as I was asked questions that were occasionally very far off base. Every once in a while I would ask for a break so I could drink some cold water — yes, water — and wipe the sweat from my brow.

I’ve promised Alan at A Good Beer Blog a post on what it was like to film the show, so I won’t write too much here; if you’re interested, look for it over there once I get a chance to clear my head. And try to check it out if you have access to the Discovery Channel. As we filmed, we had no idea what the exact theme was or even what the series and the program would be called. It’s now been packaged as part of the Discovery Channel’s How Stuff Works, and the description of the show is a bit different than what at least I thought we were working on: “We talk to the experts, brew masters and beer connoisseurs about how they’re innovating new ways to make beer.”

That definitely sounds like Sam Calagione and Dogfish Head. For better or for worse, it doesn’t sound too much like Pilsner Urquell, U Medvídků or Chodovar.

When you spend all day at Pilsner Urquell, you learn lots of things.

Above is a shot of senior trade brewmaster Václav Berka in the maltings with the crew from the Discovery Channel. During a full day of shooting, I had time to ask a number of questions about the brewery and how it operates. The malt house is a case in point: it’s not on the standard tour at Pilsner Urquell, so few visitors get to see it. And yet it’s a rather special feature: Pilsner Urquell is the only major Czech brewery which still has its own maltings, buying raw barley from Czech and Moravian farmers and producing just one type of malt which constitutes 100% of the grist of Pilsner Urquell. Any extra malt is sold to Czech homebrewers and small producers, or used to make Kozel.

And while many people assume Pilsner Urquell and Gambrinus to be the same brewery, there are enough differences to consider them as separate entities. To start, the Pilsner Urquell brewhouse is only used for that beer; Gambrinus has its own, separate brewhouse.

More factoids gleaned during a day at Pilsner Urquell:

• Yes, Gambrinus is now produced through high-gravity brewing: there is just one original Gambrinus beer which is brewed at 13° and then diluted to make the two Gambrinus beers on the market.

• Gambrinus and Pilsner Urquell are produced in two different brewhouses using two different yeast strains: Gambrinus uses the company’s W strain, Pilsner Urquell the H strain.

• Every week a new batch of yeast is started from a single yeast cell.

• Each batch of yeast is used three or four times.

• Pilsner Urquell today has 40 IBUs. The hops, in the form of pellets, are 100% Saaz, added in three hoppings.

• Pilsner Urquell has about 35 days of lagering, which the brewery says is the same as in Josef Groll’s time.

• Pilsner Urquell recently switched to flash pasteurization, using a very moderate amount of 15 pasteurization units.

• The only unpasteurized beers from the Pilsner Urquell group are sold in tanks. There is tank Pilsner Urquell, tank Gambrinus, tank Kozel, tank Radegast, and even tank Birrell, the group’s non-alcoholic beer which did so well at the World Beer Cup.

• Nine coopers remain on staff to maintain the oak barrels shown in the brewery tour at Pilsner Urquell. This year the coopers made the brewery’s first new wooden fermentation vessels in 35 years.

A quick post before heading out to Pilsner Urquell, whose distinctive water tower is pictured on every bottle of that brew, as well as in the snapshot above. (Not in the frame off to the left is the gigantic Pilsner Urquell chess set, whose toddler-size pawns look like Pilsner Urquell bottles.) I’ll be working with a crew shooting a Discovery Channel television special on beer, which, back home, will include brewing stars like Sam Calagione from the offensively good Dogfish Head and Professor Charlie Bamforth from my old alma mater, the University of California, Davis.

But that’s not why I’m writing. I’m writing to say that no matter what you do, you have to go to Pivovarský klub next week to taste the new saison beer from up-and-comer Pivovar Kocour Varnsdorf, a brewery so new it doesn’t even have a website yet.

Last night we had our second beer tasting and dinner at Essensia restaurant, inside Prague’s Mandarin Oriental hotel. All of the beers were great. (The biggest surprise might have been the Mary-Jo from Regent, because it looks terrible but tastes quite nice.) But Kocour’s saison completely turned heads, even from the few people there who weren’t all that into beer. It is a cloudy light gold with a thin, easily quaffable, semi-sweet body, followed by an eye-opening amount of hop bitterness and a slight squeeze of citric acidity in the finish. It’s an excellent summer ale, the kind of beer you’d want to change your calendar for, only we don’t know the exact date when it will be first served at Pivovarský klub. (I’d recommend keeping the entire week open and stopping by regularly, just in case.)

The word on the saison echoes the news from the Ratebeer European Summer Gathering last weekend, whereby the attendees had a sampling of many kinds of Czech beer. When I showed up for the Grand Tasting on Sunday, I was told that the most popular beer, by far, was the Varnsdorf 12°.

Off to Plzeň…

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!

There’s a fair amount of beer in the Swedish capital, and much of it seems to be Czech. Step into a bar in the trendy neighborhood of Södermalm and you’ll probably see Krušovice and Pilsner Urquell as often as anything else. Czech lagers seem to be frequently sold as premium imports here, an in the case of Starobrno’s position at the top of the list at Pet Sounds Bar, a chic offshoot of a legendary local record shop. A few other Czech brands — including Primátor — show up at the many outlets of Systembolaget, the Swedish government’s alcohol monopoly.

And then there’s Stockholm’s Švejk pub.

Despite the similarity of the name, Krogen Soldaten Švejk is unlike any of the Švejk pubs — or any pubs — you might have seen in Prague. To start, look at the beer list.

On draft, Krogen Soldaten Švejk offers:

1. Bernard 12° světlý ležák.
2. Bernard kvasnicový ležák.
3. Bernard 13° tmavý.
4. Primátor Premium.
5. Primátor Polotmavý.
6. Platan Premium.
7. Bohemia Regent 12°.
8. Krušovice Mušketýr.
9. Rohozec Skalák.
10. Pilsner Urquell.
11. Gambrinus 12° světlý ležák.

That is to say that while most bars in Prague carry just one brand, Krogen Soldaten Švejk offers eleven Czech beers on draft, most of which the pub imports itself.

“Urquell we buy from an agent, Krušovice too, but the others we bring in ourselves,” said Jari Ounasvuori, the pub’s manager. “Every two months, we bring in a truck filled with kegs of our beers, and we have a lagering facility about 30 kilometers outside of town.”

Founded by a Czech émigré — Ounasvuori’s father-in-law — way back in 1974, Krogen Soldaten Švejk had to wait until 1996 to serve its first real Czech lager. (The first was Bohemia Regent; others were added over time. At one point, the pub also stocked Budvar, Ounasvuori said, but it was given up due to difficulties with that brand’s local distributor.)

To pair with the pivo, there’s Czech grub as well: goulash, potato pancakes, schnitzel and vepřoknedlozelo. And as a digestif, Krogen Soldaten Švejk has Czech slivovice. Due to the draconic nature of Swedish alcohol taxation, however, slivovice creates a black hole, at least in business terms.

“Because of the alcohol level, I pay so much in taxes on the slivovice that I don’t make any real profit,” Ounasvuori said. “But I wanted to have it.”

While there’s nothing quite like Krogen Soldaten Švejk anywhere else in Stockholm, Ounasvuori said that there’s been some talk of Pilsner Urquell opening one of their Pilsner Urquell Original Restaurants in the Swedish capital.

“But they have to realize that won’t work here,” Ounasvuori said. “People here won’t go to a pub with just one kind of beer. This isn’t Prague.”

Amen to that. It is ironic, however, that it’s easier to find a Czech beer like Skalák on draft in Stockholm than in Prague. In fact, I can’t think of a single pub that serves eleven beers on draft anywhere in the Czech lands. The closest might be the legendary Modrý Abbé, but that’s more than a few taps shorter than Krogen Soldaten Švejk.

As for the beer, I thought that Bernard’s kvasnicové tasted a bit different when I tried it at Krogen Soldaten Švejk: slightly spicier and denser in flavor than normal, perhaps due to the trip, or maybe to the extended lagering. The only other significant difference from home was the pub’s vibrant atmosphere, with a great mix of young and old and a bustling, neighborly feel that is sadly lacking in most Prague beer halls.

I’ll be happy, however, if pubs in Prague merely followed Krogen Soldaten Švejk’s lead in offering a greater variety — and greater quality — of draft beer. If they do that, the improved atmosphere will surely follow.

One of the big events of American brewing is called the World Beer Cup, which took place last weekend in San Diego, California. Also known as the “Beer Olympics,” every two years the World Beer Cup hands out gold, silver and bronze medals in 91 beer categories, including one for the so-called “Bohemian-style Pilsener.”

Unlike the strangely named World Series, the World Beer Cup actually claims to have an international scope, noting that it had entries from 56 countries and judges from 18 different lands at the last event in 2006. At least a few Czechs served as judges at the 2008 competition, including Jan Šuráň from Pivo Praha / Pivovarský dům and Honza Kočka from Pivovar Kocour Varnsdorf and Pivnidenik.cz.

The results are out. Two Czech beers won medals at the World Beer Cup.

For the world’s best “non-alcoholic malt beverage,” a gold medal — first place — to Radegast Birell from the Pilsner Urquell group.

For the world’s best “Bohemian-style Pilsener,” a bronze medal — third place — to Gambrinus Premium from the Pilsner Urquell group.

And that’s it.

(Silence.)

Ahem.

If you’re a fan of Czech beer, these results are surprising.

How can I put this? I guess I could say that Gambrinus Premium is not widely thought of as our country’s best brew.

In fact, it’s not even thought of as the Pilsner Urquell group’s best brew. If Gambrinus Premium wins a medal for “Bohemian-style Pilsener” and Pilsner Urquell doesn’t even place, something is off: as you might expect, Pilsner Urquell is the brewery’s flagship, and widely considered the beer of the highest overall quality among high-volume Pilsner-style beers in the Czech lands. By contrast, it would be an understatement to say that Gambrinus has a less-than-glowing reputation here.

Was Pilsner Urquell not entered?

Were no other Czech beers present in San Diego?

Are we supposed to understand that Gambrinus Pilsner actually is the best golden lager from the Czech lands?

(What fools we are! All this time we’ve been drinking rich, luscious lagers from regional producers, when we could have been enjoying Gambrinus!)

So much for Bohemian “Pilsener.” (On that note, how can I trust a competition that claims knowledge over, for example, German brewing styles, but which has trouble using the correct German orthography? Forget the extra E on Pilsner, I’m talking about when the Brewers Association guidelines repeatedly spelled Leipzig’s great sour beer as “Göse” instead of Gose.)

And while Radegast nonalcoholic doesn’t have the same reputation, it’s hard to believe it’s the best such beer in the world when a couple of other Czech nonalcoholic brews taste better: mainly, those from Bernard. SPP, the Czech beer consumers’ organization, seems to agree, awarding Bernard the prize for nonalcoholic beer of the year at their awards ceremony in 2007. Even people who don’t like beer rate Bernard’s nonalcoholic above Radegast.

It’s hard to think much of the awards announcement without knowing more about who was present and who was judging. For now, it gets a big meh.

But I can add this: from Europe, the World Beer Cup does seems a lot like the World Series — another American event that claims a global perspective while reinforcing a widespread opinion of American myopia.

And when I say widespread, I do not mean “widespread in America.” I mean widespread in the world.

Radio Prague has a piece on a story that made headlines here this week: Pilsner Urquell is now cheaper in Germany than in the Czech Republic. I performed the role of the talking head in the story, a complicated mess of pricing, market share and currency fluctuations which ultimately boils down to the following:

Pilsner Urquell is now cheaper in Germany than in the Czech Republic.

Not everything I said made it into the web version, and there were quite a few things I didn’t get to mention before the interview ended. One part that got cut off from my take on the German appreciation for Pilsner Urquell was the fact that German Pilsner-style beers use a place name as an adjective in connection with the word, such as “Bamberger Pilsner,” in homage and in deference to the original.

However, I did get to mention something that has been bugging me for a while: Heineken is being promoted in the Czech Republic at the expense of quality local beers.

Recently my neighborhood supermarket was selling a half-liter bottle of Heineken “Pilsner” for 19 Kč, then about 72 cents in euro terms, about what it might cost in a supermarket in Amsterdam (now more, due to the recent strengthening of the Czech crown against the euro). This is not what anyone would possibly consider a fair trade: Pilsner Urquell is more expensive at home than outside the country, and supermarkets here compensate by offering us Heineken? (Edit: more to the point, this particular supermarket doesn’t stock any beers from small brewers like Primátor, Svijany, Opat, Herold, Černá Hora, Platan, Rebel, Louny, Velké Březno or Rychtář. From Klášter, it only stocks the 11° světlý ležák; from Bernard it only stocks the sváteční ležák. Everything else is a mass-production brew like Heineken.)

It’s hardly coincidental that the supermarket chain in question, Albert, is part of Ahold. Ahold is based in Rotterdam, while Heineken is based in Amsterdam. From the outside, this appears to be a case of “o nás bez nás,” or “about us without us” — in other words, decisions affecting consumer choice in the Czech Republic seem to be made in far-away countries without regard for local tastes, history and traditions.

It’s enough to make you want to write a letter to Ahold Czech Republic, saying “Please improve your beer selection at Albert. We don’t want Heineken. We are in the Czech Republic. We want to buy a variety of quality Czech beers, including beers from small producers like Primátor, Svijany, Herold or Opat.”

Or:

“Prosím zlepšete svou pivní nabídku v Albertu. Nechceme Heineken. Jsme v České Republice. Chceme mít možnost nakupovat různá kvalitní česká piva, včetně piva od malých výrobců jako jsou Primátor, Svijany, Herold nebo Opat.”

Feel free to copy and paste. And if you have the time to print that up and stick it in an envelope, the mailing address is:

Ahold Czech Republic
David Šátek, Purchasing Department
Radlická 117
158 00 Praha 5 — Nové Butovice
Czech Republic

In any case, Czech beer prices are all going up, as I mentioned last week, meaning we’ll have to get used to paying more for everything, not just Pilsner Urquell. The photo at the top of this page was taken in July of 2006, when you could still buy a half-liter of the original Pilsner in Prague for 23 Kč. Heineken may be many things, but it is no substitute for a great beer from a small Czech producer.

News roundup: my colleague Max Bahnson has a post on a few beers from Žatec, including the new Xantho (above). The label calls it a dark, but to me it seems more like a polotmavý (half-dark), aka jantar (amber), also known as granát (garnet), as well as “something like Vienna lager in the Czech lands.” Max will catch you up on pivo from the town otherwise known as Saaz, though he didn’t get to my current favorite from the brewery, Lučan Premium Tmavé, a chocolatey dark lager that my local corner shop usually stocks for just 8.50 Kč per half-liter, the equivalent of €.34 or about $.50.

Such low prices are on their way out, according to a recent article from Prague Monitor and Hospodářské noviny, who report that smaller Czech breweries are raising their prices (subscription required), following the lead of major brewers last November. Pilsner Urquell remains the most expensive, and if you want to know just how much your publican currently shells out for that half-liter of Urquell, the answer is 18.90 Kč (€.75 / $1.10). Smaller brewers, for all their quality, still charge far less, though last year’s 100% increase in the price of malt, the article says, results in a direct cost hike of about 30% for the breweries. At least some of that will be passed on to consumers in the near term.

Thirst is a powerful force, however, and the article notes that higher prices are unlikely to affect production. In fact, last year Czech brewers hit a record high of 20 million hectoliters (about 12.2 million barrels, if I’ve got the numbers right — feel free to check my math). The article concluded with more good news from the Bernard family brewery: Bernard’s production for January 2008 is up 28%, despite raising prices by 10% last year.

But wait, it gets better.

Several months ago there was a tasting in Prague of beers from Strakonice, a fine old South Bohemian brewery that makes decent Pilsner-style brews. But one of the most striking things at the tasting was how limited the brewery’s line was — three virtually indistinguishable golden lagers brewed at 10°, 11° and 12° — and how truly wonky their marketing is (the brewery uses the names Strakonice, Dudák, Nektar and Měšťanský pivovar, and the 10° golden lager, called “Měšťanská desítka,” or “Burghers’ Ten,” doesn’t have a visible “Strakonice” anywhere on the label.) Some of us pointed out that it is impossible to build brand loyalty when consumers can’t tell what brand it is they are drinking, and asked how freaking difficult would it be for Strakonice to brew a 13° amber lager, noting that this is hardly an obscure style at this point — in fact, it’s a growing trend here, as I’ve said before.

Well, last week the Czech newspaper Mladá fronta Dnes reported that Strakonice will launch its new 13° polotmavé pivo, Klostermann, later this month. Unfortunately, there’s still no word on the confusing labels and Strakonice’s multitude of heteronyms, which certainly isn’t helping the region’s last city-owned brewery — the article noted that Strakonice’s sales dipped by 2,000 last year to just 74,000 hectoliters. But given the unexpected appearance of Klostermann, dare we go on to suggest a wheat beer? Or even a dark lager brewed at 18° or above? Dare we recommend they offer a quality non-alcoholic beer, or even an amber non-alcoholic beer as Bernard has done? City-owned breweries can certainly innovate. The question is only if they can do it in time.

There was news yesterday that South Bohemia’s Platan brewery has been bought by K Brewing Group, as my Prague Monitor colleagues reported, via the Czech News Agency.

It’s unknown what exactly this will mean for the plane tree from Protivín, though several other brands that K Brewing has invested in — Malý Rohozec, Svijany and Černá Hora, in particular — are strong small producers with good lines. I certainly do like Platan. It’s the local beer at my in-laws, who live in nearby Písek, and the drive to the brewery gate (above) is one of the prettiest in all of Bohemian beerdom. In warm weather, cyclists, strollers and families from the village head up the allée to the brewery taproom and restaurant. Who doesn’t love plane trees?

Of course, it’s not just that the grounds are photogenic: unlike some brands, Platan is not resting on its basic lagers, to coin a phrase, producing a very good standard 11° golden beer, as well as a couple of outside-the-box brews: the creamy and rich 14° Prácheňská Perla, as well as the kicks-like-a-mule Knížecí 21° (with a memory-distorting 10.6% ABV). No, Platan doesn’t yet produce a semi-dark or a wheat beer, as I suggested Budvar should. (And the golden 14°, at least, is in fairly familiar territory. Let’s call that a “next to the box” brew.) But Platan still does produce a more diverse line of beers than many Czech marques, and all at reliably high quality.

High enough to attract interest from a famous name.

Which brings us to the part of the announcement I found most interesting. Almost lost among the sale news was the brief note that, besides its own brand, Platan also produces beer under license for Plzeňský Prazdroj, aka Pilsner Urquell. In fact, Pilsner Urquell uses the facilities at Platan to brew their Klasik budget lagers, and has previously brewed Primus, another downmarket drinker, there as well.

That means a couple of things: that Platan clearly has unused capacity, while Pilsner Urquell does not, which explains Pilsner’s recent expansion projects at home, as well as its decisions to brew in Poland and Russia. And even though Klasik and Primus are hardly premiums, it’s a small but significant vote of confidence that Platan gets to handle someone else’s workload.

Naturally, no one knows what might or might not change with the new owners in Protivín. But Czech beer lovers could suggest that they use that spare capacity to diversify the Platan product line a bit further.

Every little bit helps. And every new amber beer, wheat beer and strong dark lager helps a lot.

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.”