Believe it or not, the Sun still exists! Even around the winter solstice. It even dared to sneak a few peeks over the heavy, stuffed comforters it burrows into this stretch of the year, showing its face to all those pitiful, light-deprived mortals like me. Prague is all charming and magical, and the winter light that casts no shadows, as it is omnipresent rather than having a detectable source, suits it well, no doubt about that. Yet for those who have roamed the world and witnessed real daylight in late December, bearing that burden is immensely hard. Oh, how relieved I was when the Sun appeared yesterday morning. I impulsively ditched my plans for… well, something super-Czechy. A stroll to a microbrewery.
This is not really about the stroll itself, though. Feel free to admire a bunch of snapshots I took during the stroll, or rather during the first hour or two, since that’s how long the Sun condescended to keep me company, until it nestled back under (or should I say nestled up in this case?) its cloudy duvets.
My destination was Říčany, a small town in Prague outskirts, basically the last suburb of Prague if you ask me. Prague is going to swallow Říčany up in a decade or two anyway, that’s the nature of cities—they prey on unsuspecting towns and villages beyond their limits. Having a brewery is still a must; even villages have one. Towns often offer a handful of these establishments tailored to the needs of proper Czechs.
This very brewery boasts the slogan “Finally, proper beer.” Okay, let me clear the air here: “Proper” is a thorny word, many Czechs fear it. Often it’s people with quite an Eastern-Bloc mindset, stuck in times when doing something properly felt insane. They still handle the word with kid gloves, and when they somehow need to use it, they protect themselves by putting it into quotes.
Ironically, there’s still Pilsner Urquell on the menu. I guess every small town has its alleged beer experts who claim that PU is the best beer ever. What’s even dumber? Some people believe them and order that average, rather overpriced (it’s all about marketing) beer even in craft breweries. Or try to. Fun trivia: We encountered a similar request in a microbrewery in Brașov, Romania two weeks ago. The guest was just served a local brew after being told no industrial piss was available (in a slightly more diplomatic manner).
Anyway, the brewery in Říčany is definitely a place to visit if you’re nearby. Sure, I am biased. Still. Like most Czech breweries, it’s a family place. We don’t underestimate the importance of cultivating the next generation of alcoholics! It offers a vast playground outside and a toddler area inside. And some nice Christmas decorations. Neat! As usual, the cuisine is way above average, since guests who don’t mind spending an extra dime on craft beer often prefer quality when it comes to dining. And I am proudly among them.
I got grilled pork tenderloin with plum-and-slivovitz sauce and potatoes. No worries, despite the slivovitz, the dish is 100% non-alcoholic.
Beer
10° Mikeš, Bohemian Lager
I felt quite thirsty after my stroll, and this is precisely the beer you need to quench your thirst. Properly hoppy, with a distinct Saaz aroma that dominates the scent and the sip. Decent malty tones appear in the mid-sip, making room for a slightly herbal aftertaste. I’m guessing they used a hop variety I’m not familiar with. All in all, a pretty decent Bohemian lager. 8/10 for me.
13° Baba Jaga, Strong Bohemian Dark Lager
Strong dark lagers have always felt Christmasy to me since I was a teenager. Baba Jaga (you may know the name from Slavic folk tales) is heavily caramel-ish. Typical roasted tones appear in the mid-sip, but otherwise, it is creamy-sweet, almost like a stout. Not that I disliked the brew, but it was not quite what I expected. 6/10.
11° Polotmavá, Bohemian Amber Lager
The specialty of the day. Sadly, the weakest of the three. I guess brewing a proper Bohemian amber lager is rather tricky; balancing roasted and base malts needs skill and experience. Something felt off about the taste. I spent the entire glass trying to figure out what it was. I failed. It was slightly too bitter, and there was an aroma I couldn’t name, but it was seriously off-putting. And that’s pretty odd, as I consider my palate pretty well-trained. I mean, for most drinkers, this would still be a great brew, but by craft-beer standards, it’s way below average. 3/10.
I’d love to invite 
