NEW YORK : I must confess that I never cared much for oompah music. But I love Oktoberfest. Look around you, pork everywhere! I see juicy loins, smoky chops and all manner of hocks, snouts, sausages and feet, all demonstrating the unmatched culinary superiority of the pig. I see scads of savory roasted chickens, buttered noodles galore, tangy sauerkraut and piles of soft, fat, glistening pretzels. This, my friends, is a party!
Of course, we can't forget the beer. Oktoberfest must have beer, and plenty of it, to go along with all that food. And so, appearing right about now in bars and shops near you are the seasonal brews reminiscent of those that long ago toasted both the Bavarian harvest and, incidentally, the return of the brewing season, which in the times before refrigeration coincided with cooler weather.
As we're always ready to join the party, the tasting panel recently sampled 24 Oktoberfest beers. Florence Fabricant and I were joined by two guests, Richard Scholz, an owner of Bierkraft in Brooklyn, and Lew Bryson, a beer writer and the managing editor of Malt Advocate magazine.
At the official Oktoberfest in Munich, the only beers permitted to be served come from six local brewers: Hacker-Pschorr, Paulaner, Löwenbräu, Hofbräu, Spaten and Augustiner.
The Bavarians have their rules, and we had ours, which simply required the beers in our tasting to be made in the Oktoberfest style, wherever they came from. As it happened, we had seven German brews in our tasting (including four of the Munich six) and 17 American brews. Pinning down the Oktoberfest style was the hard part.
Munich's Oktoberfest began in 1810 as a harvest festival formalized to mark the wedding of Crown Prince Ludwig and Princess Therese. The celebrators traditionally drank March beer, or Märzen, which was brewed in March in large quantities before the seasonal brewing hiatus and then stored, or lagered, in icy caves. It was consumed gradually over the summer, then finished at Oktoberfest, which is why some bottles can paradoxically be called both Märzen and Oktoberfest beer.
Märzen was then simply a strong, dark lager, though by today's standards the beers, 5.5 percent to 6 percent alcohol, would be considered rather mild. In the 1870s, as new brewing techniques developed, the Märzen style evolved into a copper-bronze brew, with pronounced aromas of sweet malt balanced on the palate by the subtle, refreshing bitterness provided by hops.
To much of the world, this is now considered the accepted style of Märzen and Oktoberfest beers. But change has reared its head again in Germany, and in the last 30 years or so, many Oktoberfest beers have turned golden, like pilsners. Possibly this is the evolution of Oktoberfest beer. Or some German brewers are pandering to a preference for lighter-colored beers. But U.S. brewers still adhere to the older bronze style.
Oktoberfest beer must, above all, be smooth and of great drinkability. But what is drinkability? Wouldn't the most innocuous mass-market beer be considered drinkable?
No! By drinkability I mean worthy of attention without demanding to be the center of attention. A good Oktoberfest beer is a masterpiece of balance and integration, delicious without being extravagant. It does its job in the background.
In our tasting we found many well-made beers that fulfilled the Oktoberfest imperative. We were especially happy with the American beers, which stuck closely to the traditional style.
Our top three beers, all American, are excellent examples of the style. The No. 1 beer, Octoberfest from Thomas Hooker, was beautifully balanced with each flavor component melding into a delicious, refreshing whole. The No. 2 beer, the Festbier from Victory, was similarly balanced with a barely noticeable touch of licorice among the flavors, while our No. 3, the Dogtoberfest Marzen from Flying Dog, was a trifle more assertive, without overdoing it.
Three of the German beers made our top 10, including two of the Munich six. The Paulaner Oktoberfest-Märzen had a bit more complexity than some of the other beers, along with an unusual floral quality.
While the aroma seemed quite sweet, there was no sweetness on the palate. The Hacker-Pschorr Original Oktoberfest was, as were all of our favorites, well balanced, with slightly more richness than the Paulaner but less complexity.
Our third German brew, Beck's Oktoberfest, was something of an interloper, coming from the northwestern port city of Bremen. It had a bit more bitter hop flavor but was well integrated and enjoyable.
By Eric Asimov