Kachelofen at Hopf in Miesbach
Written by Franz Hofer for A Tempest in a Tankard
It was the early 1990s. I had only recently discovered what German beer was all about, and was doing my level best to try as many of them as possible. Occasionally, my friends and I would find our way past the cheap student pubs and happen upon a traditional establishment. Those moments always had something of a magical quality about them. I couldn’t help but notice heavy-beamed ceilings here, a few antlers there, and happy imbibers everywhere. Aside from the happy imbibers, I’d never seen anything quite like this in my hometown of Vancouver.
Back then it was more of a sense of enchantment with my surroundings, and perhaps the vaguest desire to know more about them. But my true fascination with the Wirtshaus is of more recent vintage, dating back to the time when I arrived in Vienna a decade ago to begin a stint at the Wien Museum. Once my Wien Museum colleagues found out that I was into beer, they started inviting me out for drinks at places called Wirtshäuser. These modest establishments were culinary institutions in Vienna, they told me.
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