DUNKEL

So, Dunkel. An perennially underloved style over here, despite the recent upswing in interest in lagered beers, this is where you should look if you like the smooth clean lines of German brewing, but want a little more character. Darker and maltier than the pale lagered beers (Dunkel translates as German for "dark") you usually see. There is some divergence within the style, but you can expect something amber-to-dark-brown with the delightful body that Munich malt gives a beer. Alongside that colour is a gentle sweetness reminiscent of darker sugars balanced by fairly discreet hopping. The malt character here bridges everything from hearty brown bread, toast, biscuits, sugars and caramel light to dark, liquorice, cocoa and coffee. Don't be afraid of those latter flavours, this isn't porter or stout and those elements will be subtle, not dominant.

It makes the English race to the bottom when the big breweries moved to keg fifty or sixty years ago all the sadder, as Dunkel could almost be the path we didn't travel. Imagine top quality best bitters, brown ales, winter warmers or ESB translated into a German idiom, rather than the horror of Watney's Red Barrel et al. that CAMRA was brought into existence to rage against. Point is, this is drinking beer par excellence. Here are two examples we are very happy to be stocking for our current Oktoberfest doings:

Firstly, the Augustiner. Purveyor of an impeccable Lagerbier Hell, not to mention their Edelstoff and Oktoberfestbier, the brewery are what you might consider well-established, claiming roots back to 1328. With that history, you won't be surprised that they are an operation that does things properly. As such, their Dunkel is clean, classic and eminently drinkable.

A deep copper in the glass, the nose is fairly understated, but hints at malty bread, smooth dark sugars and a touch of herbal German hops. It drinks delightfully smoothly - growing layers of Demerara sugar, granary loaf, toffee, hints of cocoa and a balanced bitterness. The finish is clean, a delicate bitterness holding out over immediate sweet notes, before fading out to a backnote of dry caramel that invites another sip. For all that this description might make it sound rich, the body is light for the colour and strength (5.6%) and, in the grand German tradition, incredibly drinkable - I'd knocked through half the glass before I realised that I should be taking notes!
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The second offering comes from Schönramer. Less well known over here, and with a mere two and a half centuries of experience, they've a deeply loyal following for their beers, which adhere rigorously to the edicts of quality and purity that the Bavarians have somehow read into the Reinheitsgebot, a glorified bit of weights and measures regulation. Part of the respect in which they are held is due to the quiet attention to detail and exacting standards of their brewmaster Eric Toft, a rare American brewer to be held in high regard by his German peers. If you see their Pils or Hell around, rest assured that it's the good stuff.

Slightly darker than Augustiner's Dunkel, the Schönramer has a ruby-chestnut hue in the glass, with a lovely polished clarity. The nose is slightly sweeter, with hints of cinder toffee. It drinks, again, deeply easily - the body is lighter than expected, edging you effortlessly towards the promised toffee notes, with dark caramel, a tweak of liquorice and and some cocoa notes coming in over the expected wholemeal bread malt base. It finishes comparatively dry, with a beautifully judged bitterness that naturally leads to the next mouthful.

Augustiner, Dunkel and Schönramer Dunkel.