Welcome back to my Brazilian travel journal! It’s #beersaturday, how convenient, as I happen to have a craft brewery to add to my beer map. Not that I actually visited a microbrewery this time—well, not exactly. Just its stall. On the other hand, it was truly unexpected—I'm usually well aware of where the nearest brewery is whenever I travel, and this one took me by surprise. Even in the Czech Republic, the promised land of craft microbreweries, you mostly find industrial brews in such touristy areas. Here I’m talking about Sugarloaf Mountain, or rather Urca Hill, which is the highest spot you can reach on foot, whereas most people opt for the cable car. See my previous post if you’re less into drinking and more into traveling.
My readers likely know what Carioca means. For those who are not regulars (yet), it’s the nickname for people born and raised in Rio de Janeiro. Just like Paulistas from São Paulo, true Cariocas are fiercely proud of their roots. Branding the (likely) oldest craft brewery of Rio as Cerveja Artesanal Carioca was a smart move back then – they opened all the way back in 1966 (!). My best guess: It’s by far the oldest brewery of this kind in Brazil. Unfortunately, the place was packed, and with the crowds and a bit of a language barrier (nobody spoke much English here, and my “Portuñol” felt clumsy under pressure), I didn’t get a chance to dig deeper into the brewery’s history. Besides, the staff probably didn’t know. From the short chat we had, I'm pretty certain they weren't well-versed in beer styles, either. Not the place for beer novices to broaden their horizons, yet you can feast your eyes on the horizon while sipping rather nice beers.
For the record – being a wee bit more responsible than my compatriots, we first got to the peak, just in case there was something sporty and outdoorsy to do, for which being sober could come in handy. Spoiler alert: There was nothing of that nature. So you can easily grab a pint on your way up (if you don’t mind the swaying cable car), and another on your way back to the city—which is probably what most people do.
Before we get to the beer tasting, here’s a fun bit of trivia. Or is it? I can easily imagine a Czech was involved in founding this brewery. Incidentally, Brazil's capital, Brasília, was founded by a president of Czech origin. Anyway, “pivo” means beer in Czech, and it’s usually the third word foreigners learn, just after “dobrý den” (hello). But these are bottles of cachaça, the sugarcane spirit that’s the base of Brazil’s most popular cocktail, the caipirinha.
The Beers
Pilsenzinha, Bohemian-style Pilsner
If I had any doubts about Czech influence on the brewery, they all dispersed after the first sip. This was by far the best Bohemian style Pilsner I’ve tasted in Brazil, and honestly, better than most I've had abroad. If someone from Pilsner Urquell ever reads this post, go visit Rio and learn how to brew your trademark beer, dude. The hops, likely grown in Argentina, were just right, giving the proper scents and aroma. No flaws detected. I also approved of the cordial name – Brazilians use these suffixes to express emotional bonds, and here, it felt perfectly in place.
Tem Gringo no Samba, Juice Session IPA
Once again, samba means more than the music genre (and Brazil has a cool music scene, by the way). It’s a term for every party or gathering with your folks and some nice tunes. I’m quite sure you know what a gringo is. Anyway, this is a Brazilian version likely inspired somewhere in New England. Quite pale for the style, but very pleasantly fruity, with grapefruit leading into maracuja, and even a hint of mango. The bitterness appears at the end, when the malty tones fade a bit, and it lingers for a while. A refreshing brew for hot days – and there are never any cold days in Rio.
Botafogo Helles, Helles Lager
Botafogo is a neighborhood in Rio, home to the famous, eponymous football club. Not sure if the area has some links to Germany, but this German-style lager was a pretty solid brew regardless. A robust malty body with floral tones of German hop varieties (likely grown in Argentina, too), with a medium bitterness emerging mid-palate. The finish is smooth and quite dry. Yet another great beer. If the weather didn’t call for climbing down and taking a dip in the ocean, I could easily imagine sampling some more brews here.
I believe it’s time for 
