Austria Isn't Germany

When we walked into the somewhat austerely named 1516 Brewpub, I was immediately aware that despite superficial sameness, I was not, as I often am, in Germany, but non rheinheitsgebot Vienna. A huge and almost physical wave of new world hop aroma enveloped me me and almost catapulted me back into the street. They were brewing and C hop aromas were billowing forcefully from the brewery. I was happy. This was very promising.  1516 is the most innovative by far of the many brewpubs in this lovely city. Down a fairly nondescript side street, it has a nice outside seating area in front and is cozy and dark inside. Beware though. Even when fairly empty it is very smoky indeed and you may wish to choose where you sit outside carefully too, as there as inside, the smoker is omnipresent. Nonetheless we sat in the warm spring sunshine amid a huge crew of noisy French speaking Belgians, there to see there football team play Austria in the European Championship. There were two specials on. Eejit Stout is a roasty, dry and tasty number which was excellent but the stunning star of the show was the Victory Hop Devil take off, which was incredibly bitter and resinous and frankly, a bargain at €3.50 a half litre. Simply a cracking beer.

The beer list here changes frequently and I consider myself lucky to have encountered these two, which were as good for the style as I've drunk anywhere.  Of course all cannot be without fault. E felt her unfiltered pils to be the usual trub laden mess.  All the Belgians drank it though.

The food is fantastic here too and in very satisfying portions.

What Austrian Beer?

Our next schlep was a mountainous ride over spectacular scenery to Hittisau in Austria. It involved a lot of walking up precipitously steep hills pushing a bike and even more grumbling - ok plaintive bleating - from me. Heidi would have been right at home as cowbells tinkled and the sun beat down. Every small down was punished by a grim slog uphill with the thought of "I'm paying for this" ringing loud and clear in my tortured mind. A long descent did bring us to our lovely hotel, which seemed to have no obvious way in to it. Front and back had locked doors, Eventually a supercilious Austrian geezer let us in and seemed surprised that I should find a hotel with no way in, less than welcoming. I was tired and dehydrated by then which obviously had a deleterious effect on my temper.

I was too tired to seek beer, so that delight had to wait until our one Michelin starred dinner which got off to a bad start as we were put in the smoking area (Eileen hadn't thought to specify). Another contretemps with our snooty friend had us (reluctantly) moved. Now to beer I thought. Only Krombacher Pils or Franziskaner Hefe Weizen. Damn. I asked about Austrian beer, but none was available. Huh!

The next morning it was raining and Hittisau, apart from a lovely church, had nothing in it whatever. So what do do? The bus to Bregenz on the shores of the Bodensee (Lake Constance) would surely provide better beery offering? Well no. It wouldn't! At least not Austrian ones. I'll cut out a long story of fruitless traipsing round. Austrian Export (also called Helles or Marzen) mainly from Stiegl and Mohren was the best we could do. Otherwise it was German all the way. So we sat in the by now warm, weather watching Zeppelins take off from Friedrichshaven and meander over and back, while supping Meckatzer Hefe Weizen from the Allgäu not many miles away across the border. A final drink at the station got us more undistinguished Mohren Marzen. Doh!

I know there is much better beer than this and that it isn't typical, but it shows the German brewers in this border area at least, are elbowing their Austrian counterparts aside. The perception seemed to be that German beer is better and no-one seemed to care at all.

The first photo was taken on the ride in Germany. No I don't know why there is a (working) British phone box there either!