I’m just back from tasting beers in Italy. Yes, Italy. Although it might appear to even experienced beerophiles that la bella Italia offers little beyond the pale golden lagers of Peroni and Moretti, there’s actually quite a bit going on in “The Boot” these days, especially in the north.
The occasion of my visit was the first-ever Concorso Birra Dell’Anno, or Beer of the Year competition, and unfortunately, due of that fact, I cannot as yet report on the names of many of the beers I tasted. Because as with any decent beer competition, the tastings were held blind and the beers identified by only a number and category, so until the organizers tabulate all the results and award all the medals, I’m as much in the dark as to the identities of the winners as is anyone else.
(Keep watching this space for a follow-up post highlighting some of the best in Italian brewing. Once I know, you’ll know.)
What I can tell you is that I enjoyed an outstanding sour red ale, with textbook balance and seamless integration of sour and sweet fruit flavours, most likely from the Birra Panil and probably a special edition of some sort; an excellent ale flavoured with the chinotto fruit, the same citrus that brings its taste to the soft drinks, Brio and San Pellegrino Chinotto; a remarkably subtle and surprisingly low alcohol blonde ale seasoned with pepper; and a richly complex ale that contained, among other ingredients, ginger and myrrh.
I can also report that there exists a wonderful brewpub called Bi-Du in the Como district literally metres from the Swiss border, oddly modern in appearance and yet located in an area one could justly describe as the middle of nowhere, and another, quite different but no less entrancing, decade-old brewpub in Milan called Birraficio Lambrate. Enjoyed at the former was a rather hoppy but deliciously quenching Rodersch, a corruption of the town’s name of Rodero and the beer’s kölsch style, and a rich, molasses-accented strong porter called Confine, while at the latter I supped an appetizing, fruity-bitter blonde ale called Montestella and a new, bracing, funky-fruity-spicy strong ale by the name of Bricolla.
Most tellingly, perhaps, was that not once over the course of three days did thoughts of Chianti, Barolo or “Super Tuscans” cross my mind. I was just fine with the beer, thanks very much.
