Tag Archives: czech dark lager

Lager Beer Made In USA, Part 4: Notch Brewing, Session Beer Experts

This is the fourth part in my series about some of the excellent lager beer that we had on our trip to the US in June 2024. Our final stop was Boston, MA. One place my wife and I definitely wanted to visit was Salem (probably best known for the deadliest witch hunt in the history of North America) just outside of Boston, but it wasn’t for the touristy witch trial stuff. Rather, we wanted to go to Notch Brewing, known for brewing top-notch (no pun intended) examples of Central European beer styles.

Notch Brewing (Salem, MA): Session Beer Experts

Unlike the previous visits at Dovetail, Goldfinger, and Live Oak, I did not know anyone at the brewery, didn’t get in touch previously, and wasn’t introduced by anybody. Notch were also the only ones of these that didn’t serve a Vienna Lager at the time of my visit (it is apparently a thing, though, according to untappd), so this was just a visit for our own quiet enjoyment.

After just 35 minutes on the train from Boston North Station to Salem and another 15 to 20 minutes of walking we arrived at the brewery that had only just opened. My plan was clear: to try as many of the classic styles as possible. Fortunately, Notch makes this very easy as most beers are between 4.0 and 4.5% ABV, and are optionally served as Schnitt/šnyt.

A view at the menu at Notch, with a long row of beer glasses on two shelves underneath.
A view at the menu at Notch, with a long row of beer glasses on two shelves underneath.

Louise’s first choice was Ungespundet, Notch’s take on a Franconian Kellerbier, while I went for Tenner, a 10° Czech-style pale lager. That beer strength is known in Czech as desítka, of which “tenner” is a direct translation.

We sat down with our beers in the gravelly beer garden that was set up with classic German beer tables and benches and wide sun umbrellas, right next to Salem’s harbour.

The Tenner was perfection. I feel like a broken record over the 4 parts of this series, but that beer was a great example of a 10° Czech pale lager, formulated and brewed by someone who obviously understands the style very well and enjoys it themselves.

A Notch-branded Willibecher of Ungespundet next to a Tübinger glass of Tenner.
A Notch-branded Willibecher of Ungespundet next to a Tübinger glass of Tenner.

Louise equally enjoyed her Kellerbier, and after I tried it as well, we both came to the conclusion that it bears resemblance to pre-2021 Mahrs aU. It is obviously not a direct clone, but again a beer developed by someone who knows their Franconian beers very well (and frankly speaking, Notch Ungespundet would fit perfectly into any Franconian Bierkeller).

That someone is Chris Lohring, a 30 year veteran of the Massachusetts craft brewing scene. Much has been written about him and Notch, like this article by my friend Joe in the Brewing Industry Guide, or this brewery portrait in Good Beer Hunting. And he’s certainly a man with strong opinions, like in this podcast episode of Craft Beer & Brewing (and I’m not somebody to agree with all his opinions, but it’s a great source to gain a better understanding how he approaches brewing at Notch).

The view from the outside into the brew house at Notch in Salem. While the gate is open, access is blocked off with a yellow chain and a sign saying "Authorized Personnel Only".
The view from the outside into the brew house at Notch in Salem. While the gate is open, access is blocked off with a yellow chain and a sign saying “Authorized Personnel Only”.

After this first excellent thirst quencher, I went on to try other beers. As a big fan of Czech Dark Lager with some strong opinions about it (read about my favourite tmavý recipe which is probably the best beer I ever brewed), I of course had to try Notch’s version. While it was very good, it was also a bit too roasty for my taste. But that’s fine, tmavé pivo comes in many expressions, some sweeter, some drier, some more going towards chocolate and caramel, some more roasted, some stronger, some lighter, some brown, some black.

A Tübinger glass with Notch Tmavý. Thick foam sticks to the side of the glass, while the beer is a very dark brown that still lets pass through a little bit of light.
A Tübinger glass with Notch Tmavý. Thick foam sticks to the side of the glass, while the beer is a very dark brown that still lets pass through a little bit of light.

In the connected world of the 21st century, I’m always “on” with my Stammtisch friends, so when I posted pictures of Notch to our private Signal channel, including the menu, I almost immediately got a request what to try next. It was the Kölsch (served in a half-liter Willibecher, sorry purists!) that I chose. With only a medium bitterness, a hint of floral hops, and a restrained fruitiness from the top-fermenting yeast it was very convincing and I think captured the essence of good Kölsch. Probably the only two things that stood in the way of the beer not getting served by a Köbes in Cologne were where it was produced (i.e. not in Cologne) and that it was unfiltered and looked ever so slightly hazy. Nevertheless an excellent example of the style.

I then went on to try all the other beers that I could: I remember the German Pils as generally very good but not to the point where I remember anything specific about it (I did not take any notes, as this brewery visit was just about enjoying ourselves), while the Helles Rauchbier was memorable as what I basically perceived as a clone of Schlenkerla Helles. Ironically, Schlenkerla does not serve their smoked Helles in their Bamberg pub/restaurant at all, so getting a beer like that from draft anywhere always feels like somebody outsmarted Schlenkerla a bit at their smoked Helles game.

Finally, The Standard, their 12° Czech Pale Lager: it felt more full-bodied, more rounded out, and most importantly more balanced than the Tenner. And just like it, a beer that feels like it has teleported you back to Czechia. As it was the last one I had on site, I sipped it more slowly while we were playing a few rounds of skee-ball.

Just before leaving, we also asked for crowlers (1 quart cans that were filled and closed up right at the bar, and they’re meant to be consumed within 2 weeks) of The Standard, Ungespundet and the Kölsch to bring back home. We shared them with our friend Ben about 1.5 weeks after canning. Both Kölsch and The Standard held up really nicely, while the Ungespundet unfortunately did not travel so well and had developed a bit too much diacetyl that ultimately made it not as good and pleasant to drink as straight from the source in Salem.

As with the other breweries discussed in this series, Notch was fantastic to visit as a place that offers a wide range of Central European styles, all super drinkable, all as good as you’d find them in some of the best breweries where the styles originated, and all bundled in a single brewery taproom, like you wouldn’t find it in Europe.

So, what’s next?

This article concludes my series about the 4 best breweries we visited on our trip to the US in June 2024. But worry not, there will be an article with all the other breweries we visited and/or whose beer we drank that didn’t quite make the cut to warrant their own blog posts, because frankly, even though they weren’t quite as amazing as Dovetail, Goldfinger, Live Oak or Notch, there was still lots of great beer that we enjoyed in Chicago, Austin and Boston.

The best beer I ever brewed?

OK, this is probably the clickbaitiest title of a blog post that I’ve ever come up with, but bear with me.

For the June/July 2022 issue of Craft Beer & Brewing magazine, Evan Rail wrote an article about Czech Dark Lager, aka tmavé pivo. I’ve always quite enjoyed this particular style, especially whenever we were visiting Prague, as it is (in my opinion) a very balanced beer type that combines the complexity of flavours of dark kilned and roasted malts with a great drinkability, the kind of balance that other dark beer styles don’t quite achieve. But it is not always hard to find.

Inspired by this article, I noted all the tips and tricks on formulating a recipe and brewing the beer, then developed a preliminary recipe, and got together with my friend and neighbour Ben to actually brew this.

What we brewed in the end had the following grist:

  • 2.5 kg Bohemian Pilsner malt (49.0%)
  • 1.9 kg Munich II malt (37.2%)
  • 0.6 kg CaraBohemian (11.8%)
  • 0.1 kg Carafa Special II (2.0%)

One important technique that was emphasized in Evan’s article was to add the roasted malt (Carafa Special II) only in the lauter/sparge stage. If this hadn’t been mentioned, I would have simply added it to the main mash, intensely boiled it in the first decoction, and probably ended up with a beer with too much roasty bitterness.

In Czech tradition, we chose a double decoction as our mashing regime. We mashed in relatively cold, then pulled a very large decoction which we step-mashed with a rest at 73°C, and then boiled it for 15 minutes until we mixed it back to get to our conversion temperature of 66°C. After a while, we pulled a thin decoction, boiled it for 6 minutes, then mixed it back to get to 73°C. After 15 minutes, we then heated the mash up to 78°C for mash out.

After transferring to the lauter tun, we added the roasted malt to the top of the mash, and started collecting the wort. The impact of the roasted wort is subtle at the start, but will develop over time until we ended up with a dark but still slightly translucent wort.

As for the hops, we went for something really simple: just Czech Sladek hops (8% alpha acid), with two additions at 60 min (1 g/l to contribute about 17 IBU) and 20 min (1.7 g/l to contribute about 17 IBU) before the end of the boil, for a total of 34 IBU. That was another tip from the article, namely that the beer style can do with more bitterness that you’d think.

(As a side note, I find the name Sladek for that hop variety just great; Sladek was developed as a cross of Czech Saaz hops and Northern Brewer hops; Sladek means brewer in Czech, so crossing Northern Brewer with the classic Czech hop variety made it a Czech Brewer – a Sladek; this is my personal theory of why this name was chosen)

After 60 minutes of boiling, we chilled down the wort which had a OG of 13.6°P, even better than the 13.3°P I had planned the recipe for. When the wort had reached a temperature of 10°C, we finally pitched a healthy dose of bottom-fermenting yeast. That was actually a point where we deviated from the tips in the article. Ben had gotten his hands on fresh pitching yeast from a large industrial lager brewery here in Berlin, so of course we just had to use this very fresh, vital yeast instead of using a genuinely Czech strain (which was actually a bit hard to find at the time).

Fermentation went a bit slow, but after 4 weeks, we finally reached our FG of 3.8°P. This may seem high, but a point of the mash schedule was to produce a larger quantity of unfermentable sugars which would keep the FG high and the beer’s body full. After an excruciating 6 weeks of lagering at low temperatures, we finally bottled the beer last weekend, adding just half a liter of wort we had held back as a source of sugar for bottle conditioning. During lagering, the beer had already attained quite a bit of carbonation where CO2 simply naturally went into solution due to the lower temperatures, so not much Speise was necessary.

The final beer probably has about 5.3% ABV, at least that’s what our calculations said. And now look at this beauty:

The beer is dark, but not black. The foam is dense and off-white. And the taste? Just sublime. Better than any of the samples I had taken from the fermenter or even during bottling. If I had been served this in a pub in Czechia, I would have been very happy. There is some roasted bitterness, but it melds nicely with the hop bitterness. There’s a lot of chocolate and coffee going on in there, the body is full but not too full, making you want to drink another one at the end of it (I restrained myself and only had one, as I want to keep more of the beer for Christmas). There are notes of dark malts and caramel malt, but no cloying sweetness whatsoever.

Ben and I then went through the BJCP style guideline’s description of Czech Dark Lager, and the beer seemed to tick all the boxes. The bitterness is certainly on the high side, but I think it only makes it more interesting and adds some complexity.

All in all, we’re both very happy with the result. For me, it is probably the best beer I’ve brewed myself. I’m rather self-critical, and I could not find a single flaw. And I think what got me there were the quality ingredients, sticking to all the traditional methods that I had learned about, and most importantly, not cutting any corners in the brewing process.