Dortmunder - the almost vanished beer style

When I first started taking an interest in beer there was very little information available on the subject. Unlike wine, where there seemed an abundance of material on viticulture, books on beer and brewing were few and far between. Beer was definitely regarded as the poor man's drink, but fortunately, things began to change, and it was during my first year at university, that I received wind of an innovative and groundbreaking book called “The Beer Drinker’s Companion,” by Frank Baillie. Frank was a man ahead of this time, and this hard-back publication, which appeared in 1973, was one of the first books on beer to appear and was the first one dedicated solely to the greatest long drink in the world.

According to the notes on the dust jacket, Frank assiduously researched his subject, had drunk all the draught beers listed in the book, and had drank beer in 36 different countries. The book itself listed every brewing company then in existence in the UK, gave details of all the beers produced by each of these breweries, and provided guidance that enabled readers to find pubs, where their beers could be enjoyed. In short, Frank’s pioneering work broke the mould and helped demystify the world of beer, malt, and hops, certainly for this 19-year-old student.

One thing I remember from Frank's book, and one that is particularly relevant to this current post, is a short section about lager. This was a beer I knew little about, especially as I'd only come across lager when it was served mixed with lime cordial. To a rather naive young drinker, this blonde coloured beer looked very attractive in the glass, as the bubbles slowly rose to the top, adding to the cap of foam on top of the beer, but why on earth shove a shot of lime cordial in it?

The only lagers I was familiar with at the time, were Harp, Skol and Heineken, so The Beer Drinker’s Companion was something of a revelation. Frank didn't go into a lot of detail, primarily because the beers brewed in these islands were the main focus of his book, but I do remember reading a definition of lager, how it differed from traditional English beer, and how it was by far the most popular beer in continental Europe. There was also quite an emphasis on lager being brewed using seedless hops, rather than highlighting bottom fermentation, and a grist consisting of lightly kilned malt - the points that really differentiate lager from English ale.

Frank went on to say there were three main types of lager: Pilsner Dortmund and Munich. He described Pilsner as being pale in colour, with a relatively high hop rate and brewed with soft water. Dortmund was also pale, but brewed using less hops, and harder water. Munich was a brown and aromatic type of beer, brewed using different malts, compared to the other two types of lager, giving it a fuller and sweeter pallet. He was obviously referring to the Dunkel style beers which originated in Munich, and which are still popular in the Bavarian capital today.

Over the years I’ve drunk lager-style beers in numerous parts of the world, as well as on home turf. The vast majority have been on the pale side and have included Pilsners by the score – and even Pilsner in the city of Pilsen itself. Some lagers have been Bavarian-style Helles, Franconian Kellerbiers, and some have been the aforementioned Dunkel, dark beers, alongside their Czech equivalents. The one lager style I’ve never managed to track down, apart from an example from Cleveland - based Great Lakes Brewing Co, is Dortmunder. Until the other day, that is, when I finally got to enjoy a Dortmunder beer, from the city that gave its name to the style which Frank Baillie regarded as the third type of lager.

Before revealing the beer and the location where I got to drink (and enjoy) a genuine Dortmunder beer, there’s another groundbreaking beer book that I want to mention, and it’s one which arguably had even more influence on beer lovers (and beer hunters). Published in 1977 and researched and written by the late, great Michael Jackson, “The World Guide to Beer,” was THE definitive guide to beer, the world over, and an indispensable reference book for anyone remotely interested in beer.

Dortmunder beer receives several mentions, as does the city itself, with Jackson describing it as Germany’s biggest brewing city. Dortmunder though, is a relatively new style of beer, having been first brewed by Dortmunder Union in 1873. This light golden beer became very popular with coal miners and workers in the area’s steelworks, and other industrial undertakings, leading to Dortmunder Union becoming Germany’s largest brewery. Dortmunder beer has been described as a lager produced for 19^th Century German industrial workers, and it proved ideal for this purpose.

High levels of sulphate in the region’s water gave the beer a distinct flavour that balances well with the bitterness from the hops. Dortmunder beer was never brewed to less than 5% abv, which was light enough to quench a coal miner’s thirst, but hearty enough to reward him for a long day of manual labour. As the steel and coal industry gradually diminished in West Germany, so did the production of Dortmunder lagers.

The beer is sometimes referred to today, as “Dortmunder Export,” but whatever the name, the style has the malt-forward flavour and sweetness of a German-style Helles, with the bitter base of a German-style Pilsener. The beer is all about balance, with medium hop character and a firm but low malt sweetness, so look for toasted malt flavours and spicy floral hop aromas. Most people would say that the taste of a Dortmunder mirrors the crispness and lightness of a Helles, but with a stronger, more malty taste and a higher abv.

So why isn’t Dortmunder more widely known, and why haven’t I come across it on my travels? I haven’t been to Dortmund, but I have been quite close to the city, following visits to Solingen and Wuppertal. There was no sign of Dortmunder beer in either of these locations, and the only place where I have seen the beer advertised, was at Gaststätte Lommerzheim (Lommi), the legendary Cologne Bier Haus, on the wrong side of the River Rhine, that I finally managed to visit back in March.

A large sign, on the front of the pub, advertises Dortmunder Aktien Bier (DAB), even though Lommi only sells Kölsch. Boak & Bailey mentioned this anomaly in their recent “Impressions of Köln” post, but the presence of this sign, on a pub which is a rare, pre-war survivor from the indiscriminate carpet bombing of the last war, does suggest Dortmunder beer was at one time, more widely available than it is today, in Germany. Finally, we have reached the point in the post where I reveal when and where I was finally able to drink a glass of genuine Dortmunder beer.

Two days after arriving back in England, following our cruise, I called in at the Nelson Arms in Tonbridge, craving a glass of two of English ale. Those cravings were satisfied by a pint of Shere Drop, from Surrey Hills Brewery, followed by one of Gale’s HSB, but whilst propping up the bar (it was very crowded that day), I noticed quite a few glasses of Dortmunder Union beer being served. I had to ask the barmaid, as the keg beers at the Nelson aren’t that well-advertised, coming as they do from the “beer wall” behind the bar. She confirmed my observation was correct and told me the pub had only recently started stocking the beer. It had proved a big hit with the locals, so much so that it is now a regular feature on the beer wall. There wasn’t time, there and then for me to try the beer, but I made the decision to have a pint of Dortmunder, the next time I was in the Nelson.

That time came quicker than I thought, as the other Wednesday, I found myself in the pub, as part of the local CAMRA group, who were presenting the Nelson’s licensees with a certificate, to mark the pub reaching the final stage of this year’s CAMRA Pub of the Year. Yes, the Nelson is one of the four finalists in this year's competition, and deservedly so! After enjoying a couple of Harvey’s beers – Dark Mild and Bonfire Boy (the latter was excellent), I just had to finish the session with a pint of Dortmunder.  My purchase turned a few heads amongst the CAMRA crowd, although when I explained my decision, I’m sure they understood the reasoning behind it. Matt the landlord confirmed that it was the genuine article and is obtained via a wholesaler. Quite a few of the pub’s regulars have taken to the beer, and it is now stocked at the Nelson, instead of Paulaner Helles from Munich.

It was a decent pint of lager, although it was nothing spectacular, and there’s the rub, because it’s almost certainly the reason for Dortmunder’s demise. With no real outstanding features, there’s nothing really to distinguish the style from other lagers, such as Pilsner or Helles. Esteemed beer writer Roger Protz reached the same conclusion, in this piece from 2004. He also made comparisons between Dortmund and Burton-on-Trent; a point that also crossed my mind – although I was thinking more of the high sulphate local water, which is a common connection between both towns.

Roger’s final point was one that seems to have come to pass. He describes Dortmunder, as one of the world's great beer styles, before claiming it is in danger of withering on the vine. I’m not sure about his first point, because as stated above, I found little evidence in the pint I drank to confirm that claim. Sadly, Roger is almost certainly correct about Dortmunder withering on the vine, and unless the brewers of its home city make a concerted effort to promote the beer, and really get behind it, this once renowned style of beer, really is in danger of disappearing for good.