Written by Franz Hofer for Tempest in a Tankard
The Wirtshaus is a Central European institution deeply rooted in medieval times. During the early and high Middle Ages, inns with taverns sprung up along trade and pilgrimage routes, offering food and accommodation to weary travelers, along with stables to quarter their horses. The vast majority of these establishments were run by the nobility or the clergy, catering either to the aristocracy and officials of the nascent bureaucracy, or to merchants and pilgrims.[1]
By the sixteenth century a dense network of Wirtshäuser linked cities, towns, and villages with rural and Alpine regions, all recognizable by the signs that hung above the door. Wreaths, tree boughs, or shrubs marked the spot. These rudimentary symbols eventually gave way to more ornate signs that recalled the coats-of-arms of various noble houses, or, if the Wirtshaus was near a church, to religious imagery such as the crowns of the three kings. To this day, many breweries and Wirtshäuser bear names tied to these symbols—Löwenbräu, Drei Kronen, Bärenwirt, to name but a few.
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If your local pub has Stone Enjoy by 7.4.24 more than likely you won’t enjoy. The pineapple and the tangerine are like second graders being beat up by 6th grade bullies on a playground. It molests your mouth. You really have to concentrate hard to get the fruit because the pineapple and tangerine are almost down and out. Don’t bother counting.
If your local pub had Firestone’s Parabola just go to your medicine cabinet and drink any brand name Isopropyl. The only difference will be the lack of malt. The better side to isopropyl will be death arrives sooner with less torment.
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