The things Salzburg is known for (Mozart, The Sound of Music) do not equate with beer drinking, which was probably why we only spent one day and night in this picturesque city that straddles the German/Austrian border. Salzburg does have one massive berwery, but I don’t drink Stiegl when at home and wasn’t planning on starting now. It was an absolutely scorching day that involved a trek up to the Fortress Hohensalzburg, so a beer definitely was in order. Luckily Salzburg is also home to Die Weisse, a smallish brewpub with a nice selection of wheat beers available. The sun was just starting to set as we grabbed a table on the patio and had a couple of well earned beers. The beers don’t really stand out now (they were okay and hit the spot, but didn’t compare to the brews of Munich), but a couple of other points did.
While Munich seemed very kid-friendly, the Die Weisse patio was even more appealing due to the jungle gym in the corner, far enough away from the tables that the kids could be seen yet not heard. This seems like the dream of every parent – being able to enjoy a drink outside while not having to worry too much about what your kids are up to. And wasn’t the playplace always the best part of going to McDonald’s when you were a kid? Everyone wins and you don’t have to eat at a family restaurant with a generic menu that appeals to the blandest taste buds.
Sophie finally caved and ordered a radler – a half-and-half mix of wheat beer and either lemonade or orange juice. The definite vibe throughout the countries was that these mixes were designed for women, which makes me glad they aren’t that common in North America. Does anyone really need a wheat beer to be toned down? I would understand if the main reason was trying to limit alcohol consumption, but the purpose was definitely to create a “girlie” drink. The funny part was that the radler was one of the most disgusting drinks of the trip, in large part due to the insanely sweet lemonade that was used for the mix. I could almost taste the sugar crystals, which is a real shame when you’ve got a perfectly fine beer being wasted.
Next stop: Vienna and one very hoppy beer.