Zamek Zabreh

by Richard Havlik
(Beer Delegate, Czech Republic)

Zamek Zabreh: great beer at times, but is it consistent enough to be a great destination?

I started watching TV on a Friday early evening, about to settle down for the night, when my neighbour, in typical Kramer from Seinfeld style, barged in wondering if I had a pitcher. His voice was a little cracked.

"A pitcher?" I had to ask, "What do you want a pitcher for?"

"You won't believe it. Just down the road, a microbrewery has just opened up and if you bring your own pitcher they will fill it up for you."

My eyes widened, I had to check this out. I yell as put my shoes on. "Honey, I'm just going out for one..."

We arrived at Zamek Zabreh, in Ostrava, and a slight buzz was emanating from the people as we watched them stand around the tap downing the golden elixir. Our mouths began to water. We spotted a couple of empty spots on the end of a long picnic table and decided to try one as we waited for the barkeep to fill our pitcher.

It takes a long time to pour a beer here. The beer was outstanding, a tasty exhilaration of carbonation and yeasty hops, that made for a smooth flavour that was easily palatable. We yearned for more. It was the first time I started to have feelings for a beer.

We ordered another round, we couldn't believe that in our backyard a brewery had opened up. Was this the actual beer I have been looking for, was my search over for the best beer of this beer engorged land, just down the block from where I lived? I had to have another one.

They had three on tap, a light, a dark and a dark one with a hint of herbs in it, which was great as well.

I went back to Zamek Zabreh the next day, waving my Beer Delegate card, hoping I would get a free one -- and I did. My first free beer, courtesy of the UNOB. It was the dark one and it was quite good, thick and malty with no bitter aftertaste.

I then had a chance to talk to the brewer and as we chatted he toyed with the tap, carefully turning it and inspecting it. He started telling me some of the ingredients and since I didn't know the language very well, most of what he said went over my head, but I perked up every time he said "pivo."

By the looks of him I knew that whatever he was putting in the beer, it had to be good. Never trust a skinny brewmaster. In the end all I could do in my notebook was put a big checkmark.

I than had a tour of Zamek Zabreh with the owner and was briefed with how old the place was. Over a thousand years old, originally built as a small holiday castle for visiting royalty. Eventually some monks took it over and started brewing beer. Ahh, the life of a monk.

Yet a great beer has to be consistent, so I returned a few more times and found to my disappointment that it wasn't as good, and that I would have to continue my search. I realized it really depended on the batch, so in that matter, it kept me coming back, hoping I could relive my first time I tasted that great beer.