Cologne

For once, a trip that doesn’t start with trailing out to Schiphol. Because we’re travelling the civilised way: by train.

It does mean taking a tram through the city centre. Luckily it isn’t too crowded.  Before going to our platform, we pick up a copy of the Radio Times. Though finding the newsagent is fun. It’s in one of the new tunnels under the platforms. But they all look the same. Which is the right one?

“Look, there’s an AKO there, Dolores.”

“Do they sell the Radio Times?”

“Pretty sure they do.”

I’m right. As always. Though we have to go through the ticket barrier to get there. Amsterdam Centraal is now a closed station. It’s slightly tricky for us because we’re both on one ticket. I have to shuffle quickly through behind Dolores.

Platform 2, we need. And our carriage is right down the end of the platform. Or at least will be when it arrives. There’s a loud mob waiting at that spot. Great.

“I hope they’re not in our carriage.” Dolores remarks.

They are. Despite being a quiet carriage, it’s like sitting in a pub, as they shout at each other across the seats. It’s a works outing that has reserved most of the seats in the carriage. Annoyingly, they’re going as far as we are.

Luckily I’ve some train beer to distract me. Three bottles of Guinness Special Export. A lovely drop it  is, too.

You may have wondered why I wasn’t at the Borefts Festival. It’s because I’m off to Cologne instead. I would have gone for a Saturday of geeking out in Bodegraven. Except we’re going to Cologne to meet Dolores’s sister, whose birthday it is tomorrow.

Reading the paper is doing a great job of zoning out the annoying chatter. As does the roastiness of the Guinness.

The journey takes 2 hours 45 minutes. Which isn’t too bad. And it’s on time.

It’s too early to check into our hotel. Instead we check Früh out. Which is handily close to our hotel. And not too far from the station. That’s important, because Dolores has to go back there to pick up her sister and partner.

While we’re waiting for the hour or so before their train arrives, I get stuck into some food. A Boockwurst and potato salad. Nice, but a bit pricey.

While she’s gone, I shovel down multiple thimbles of Kölsch. The waiter keeps me well supplied, but the glasses remain frustratingly small. One good gulp and they’re all but empty. II do like Früh Kölsch when it’s served Bayerischer Anstich. Delicate, subtle, refreshing and eminently drinkable.

Cologne is much more expensive than 10 years ago. And seems to be getting worse. Way more expensive than Berlin, surprisingly. I suppose that I’ve been spoilt by all my time in rural Franconia. Where a half litre is under 2 euros and no meal costs more than ten.

Fed and watered (well, beered) we adjourn to our hotel to check in. It’s right at the start of Hohestrasse, literally 50 metres from Früh. Not the fanciest of places. But we do have a balcony with a view of the Dom.

After a little rest, we head off to Rewe. That’s supermarket. Dolores wants to pick up a few things. While we’re there, I buy a six pack of Malzmühle Kölsch. And a couple of bottles of impulse schnapps. Just for old times’ sake. Dolores gives me look, but doesn’t make me put them back. It’s proper impulse schnapps as they are displayed just before the till. Don’t you just love Germany?

We eat tea in a Czech restaurant. I have a pleasant, if rather salty goulash. And some Czech beer, obviously: Budvar. It’s a pleasant relief to have a half litre. A beer that takes more than two minutes to demolish.

We plan sitting on our balcony. Dolores and her sister have bottle of wine to suck on. And I’ve got my Malzmühle. But I’m so utterly and totally knacked, I go to bed at eight.

What a lightweight I’ve become.



Früh am Dom
Am Hof 12-18,
50667 Köln.
Tel: +49 221 2613215
http://www.frueh-gastronomie.de/



Wirtshaus Schwejk
An Groß St. Martin 2,
50667 Köln.
Tel: +49 221 2580634
http://wirtshaus-schwejk.de/

Kölsch obergärig (Deutsch-Pilsener)

Now here’s something I’m dead excited about. A description of Kölsch from relatively early in the style’s life.

Kölsch only seems to have coalesced into a definite, definable style around 1900. In the late 19th century top-fermenting brewers in various part of the Rhineland had started brewing beers which were intended to mimic some of the qualities of the new-fangled Lager beers that were flooding the region. Initially these were lumped together as Rheinisches Bitterbier. They had a few features in common, including heavy hopping and a lengthy lagering. Eventually both Düsseldorf and Cologne developed their own specific styles.

But that’s enough from me. Let’s see what Olberg has to say. This is my paraphrasing of his chapter on Kölsch.

Kölsch is a gold-coloured, thirst-quenching, not too heavy, easily-digestible beer that is the national drink of Cologne.

It is usually brewed using the kettle mash process, or by boiling a thick mash once or twice.  Though to save time and fuel mostly a kettle mash is employed, with perhaps one thick mash.

For example, mashing in is at 7 AM at a temperature of 35º C, the mash is left to brew until 7:30 and then the temperature  raised slowly to 50º C at 8:30 and 70º C at 9:30. The mash is left at this temperature for saccharification (30 to 40 minutes, make an iodine test.). If full saccharification has occurred, raise it to the mashout temperature of 76º C. The lauter tun must be well warmed up beforehand.

Or after saccharification of the mash, about a third is left in the lauter tun while the other two-thirds is brought to the boil in the kettle and returned to the lauter tun to mash out at 76ºC.
Source: Olberg, Johannes (1927) Kölsch obergärig in Moderne Braumethoden, pp 64-65, A. Hartleben, Wien & Leipzig.

So a fairly simple mashing scheme with optionally a single decoction. Next boiling.

A third of the hops are added as the wort is being run into the copper, another third after one hour of boiling and the last third 40 minutes before turning out the kettle. The boil lasts two hours. Usually a small quantity of the hops, 6 to 8 %, are added to the kettle just before emptying it, when the steam has already disappeared. OG is 11 to 12º Balling.
Source: Olberg, Johannes (1927) Kölsch obergärig in Moderne Braumethoden, pp 64-65, A. Hartleben, Wien & Leipzig.

Interesting that there were three hop additions, plus a very, very late on. It all sound very modern, especially that last, very late one.

Here’s how the fermentation went:

The wort is cooled to 10º C and pitched with 1 litre of yeast per 50 kg of malt. The tun fermentation lasts 5 days. The bier is transferred to lagering vessels just like Lagerbier and from this point on is handled and lagered cold in exactly the same way. The lagering vessels are filled to the top and only loosely bunged. After 5 to 6 weeks the beer, without being bunged, can be filtered and sent out to customers.
Source: Olberg, Johannes (1927) Kölsch obergärig in Moderne Braumethoden, pp 64-65, A. Hartleben, Wien & Leipzig.

That’s a pretty cool fermentation, followed by a fairly classic lagering, except for not being bunged. As they were filtering the beer anyway, they seem to have not bothered with the final stage of lagering where, after the bung has been tightly sealed the beer naturally carbonates and clarifies itself. It sounds to me like they must have been force carbonating the beer after filtration. With the bung open, it wouldn’t carbonate itself.

The hopping rate in the kettle is 65 pounds of Lagerbier hops for 1,050 kilos of grist. In addition, before filling, into a lagering barrel of 65 hl, 12 pounds of hops and the water they have been brewed in are put into the barrel. These hops have been mashed with 75º water in a barrel for 30 minutes. The finer the hops, the better the beer will taste and the better its aroma. These beers are not usually bunged.
Source: Olberg, Johannes (1927) Kölsch obergärig in Moderne Braumethoden, pp 64-65, A. Hartleben, Wien & Leipzig.

That’s a pretty heavy hopping rate for a German beer. It works out to about 10.5 lbs per quarter of malt. For comparison, in 1925 Whitbread PA, at 1047º a very similar gravity to the Kölsch being described, had only 7.5 lbs per quarter.* 

I’ve come across this practice of mashing hops in hot water before. I guess it’s a sort of dry hopping. Is 75º C hot enough to isomerise the hops? According to the internet, it isn’t. 79º C seems to be the critical temperature. It’s odd they should use a temperature that’s just slightly too cool. Which has me wondering about the exact purpose of this technique.

That wet hopping is the equivalent of about 5.25 oz. per barrel, which is about the same as and English Best Bitter of the period.

I’m sure modern versions are much more lightly hopped. Unfortunately.





* Whitbread brewing record held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/01/090.

How bitter was early Kölsch?

Someone asked me the other day if Kölsch had become less bitter over the years. My guess was that it had, but that's all it was, a guess. At the weekend, purely by chance, I stumbled on some evidence to back up my guess.

It comes from a very odd source: a report of a trip of British brewers to the Brewers' Exhibition in Berlin in 1908. It seems that on their way back, the party called in Cologne and visited a couple of breweries. The date is very important as it's about the time Kölsch first appreared.

This definitely sounds like a description of a Kölsch Brauhaus:

"On our arrival at Cologne, the friends who met us there informed us that they could not offer us the inspection of large breweries such as we should have soon in Berlin and other parts, but they had many small breweries, and, if of interest, they would arrange for us to look over any of them.

We were taken to a small brewery, known as the Obergahriges Restaurant Brewery, which had been working about two years, and whose beers at the moment were exceedingly popular in the town. It was a large restaurant brewing its own beer; behind the restaurant was a model brewing plant, with everything nicely arranged, covering a space of 100 feet square; the whole plant had been erected at a cost of £2000.

The beer was produced on the top-fermenting system: it was fermented for four days, then run into the lagers and stored for eight weeks, afterwards chilled and filtered, and served up in the usual way. Its gravity was 17 lb., and we again noticed the pronounced hop flavour which finds such ready appreciation with Germans. The whole of the brewery production was sold in the restaurant (at the time of our visit, about 12.30 in the day, we found 200 customers there), and, as far as I could ascertain, their trade was not less than 100 English barrels per week, to us a large and remarkable trade for one restaurant. We were told, much to our surprise, that the majority of the restaurants brewed their own beer."
Journal of the Institute of Brewing, Volume 14, Issue 1, January-February 1908, pages 50-51.

 Top-fermented, then lagered cold. That's spot on for Kölsch. 17 lbs per barrel is 1047º - which also sounds right for Kölsch. 100 barrels a week is around 50,000 5,000 barrels a year. A pretty impressive amount for a single pub. "Served up in the usual way" implies some sort of pressure dispense rather than directly from the barrel by gravity. Odd, as every Brauhaus I know in modern Cologne serves from the barrel.

Note how the restaurant had only been open two years. Bang on when Kölsch was born. Just a shame he didn't tell us its real name. Obergahriges Restaurant Brewery is clearly just a description of what the place was, not its actual name.

Thankfully, there's a description of how the beer tasted: "pronounced hop flavour". Sounds to me that Kölsch was definitely bitterer back then.

Strange that the author should be so surprised at restaurants brewing their own beer when there were still thousands of British pubs that brewed. In 1912 there were 2,663 publican brewers*.

The other brewery sounds particularly odd:

"We also visited a still smaller brewery, connected with a small restaurant resembling the home brewery attached to the licensed house, frequently found in this country. The proprietor informed us that he was only able to brew during the winter months, but he brewed sufficient then to carry him through the summer. In his case he brewed with bottom-yeast, and he was able to carry through his fermentation successfully at about 50° F. When the beer had gone through its course of fermentation, it was filled into lagers of 12 to 15 English barrel capacity, and removed to the town cellars, where large quantities of beer were stored for small brewers, and the casks were taken out one at a time as required.

It will be noticed that the small brewer was maturing his lager at cellar temperature, viz., 52° (a high temperature in comparison with the large breweries), and I was astonished to find he was able to do without an expensive ice plant, and still produce a beer which I considered equal to any lager I had tasted; it had the pronounced hop flavour, and was very pleasant and refreshing, although perhaps a little too bitter. His trade, he informed me, was from 10 to 15 barrels per week. This was also the only case where I found the boiling of wort done by fire in place of steam."
Journal of the Institute of Brewing, Volume 14, Issue 1, January-February 1908, page 51.

I'm very surprised that a small pub brewery was using bottom-fermenting yeast. Especially with the relatively high fermentation temperature of 50º F.  And didn't Cologne have a Reinheitsgebot that forbad bottom fermentation?

I'd never heard of beer being stored in town cellars in Cologne. I wonder when that died out?

If a British brewer complained about a beer being too bitter, it must have been damned bitter. All British beers were hopped like crazy before WW I. I would claim this as more proof of Kölsch once being bitterer, except this obviously wasn't a Kölsch, being bottom-fermented. What would you call this beer? A Lager?





* 1928 Brewers' Almanack, page 118.

Cologne (2)

Cologne (1)

Cologne brewhouse in 1907

I love old books and magazines. As you might have realised over the last few days. So full of  fascinating stuff. To me, at least.

I thought this might interest a couple of you. It's a report about a couple of Cologne breweries, one top and one bottom-fermenting. A very early reference to Kölcsh, though it isn't mentioned by name:

"On our arrival at Cologne, the friends who met us there informed us that they could not offer us the inspection of large breweries such as we should have seen in Berlin and other parts, but they had many small breweries, and, if of interest, they would arrange for us to look over any of them.

We were taken to a small brewery, known as the Obergahriges Restaurant Brewery, which had been working about two years, and whose beers at the moment were exceedingly popular in the town. It was a large restaurant brewing its own beer; behind the restaurant was a model brewing plant, with everything nicely arranged, covering a space of 100 feet square ; the whole plant had been erected at a cost of £2000.

The beer was produced on the top-fermenting system: it was fermented for four days, then run into the lagers and stored for eight weeks, afterwards chilled and filtered, and served up in the usual way. Its gravity was 17 lb., and we again noticed the pronounced hop flavour which finds such ready appreciation with Germans. The whole of the brewery production was sold in the restaurant (at the time of our visit, about 12.30 in the day, we found 200 customers there), and, as far as I could ascertain, their trade was not less than 100 English barrels per week, to us a large and remarkable trade for one restaurant. We were told, much to our surprise, that the majority of the restaurants brewed their own beer.

We also visited a still smaller brewery, connected with a small restaurant resembling the home brewery attached to the licensed house, frequently found in this country. The proprietor informed us that he was only able to brew during the winter months, but he brewed sufficient then to carry him through the summer. In his case he brewed with bottom-yeast, and he was able to carry through his fermentation successfully at about 50° F. When the beer had gone through its course of fermentation, it was filled into lagers of 12 to 15 English barrel capacity, and removed to the town cellars, where large quantities of beer were stored for small brewers, and the casks were taken out one at a time as required.

It will be noticed that the small brewer was maturing his lager at cellar temperature, viz., 52° (a high temperature in comparison with the large breweries), and I was astonished to find he was able to do without an expensive ice plant, and still produce a beer which I considered equal to any lager I had tasted; it had the pronounced hop flavour, and was very pleasant and refreshing, although perhaps a little too bitter. His trade, he informed me, was from 10 to 15 barrels per week. This was also the only case where I found the boiling of wort done by fire in place of steam."
"Journal of the Institute of Brewing, Volume 14", 1908, pages 50 - 51.

A couple of points. First, how bitter both beers were. I'd though that, in this period, British beers were much more heavily hopped. Secondly, I methods used by the Lager brewer seem a little weird. I'm surprised that he could brew a decent Lager without any refrigeration or ice.

Trips! (West)

It's that time again. Another of my Mini Series Books has escaped. Volume VIII, it's entitled "Trips! (West)"

What does the title mean? Er, well, it's a guide for those wanting to make boozing trips in the West of Germany. All the Big names are there. Düsseldorgf, Cologne, Ratingen. And plenty of others, too. Dortmund, Osnabrück, Münster, Duisburg, Kaiserslautern. Everything you need for an international piss up is included. Pub details, maps, brewery guide, beer details.

"Trips! (West)" is the essential companion for any trip to the West of Germany. If you like your beer. And you wouldn't be reading this blog if you didn't.

But what if we want to go somewhere else in Germany. Don't worry. "Trips! (South)" and "Trips! (East)" will be volumes IX and X. Collect the set and you'll have the most comprehensive guide to central European beer ever compiled.

Buy "Trips! (West)" now!


http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/trips-(west)/7182011

Cologne again

This is my first attempt at mobile blogging. Not that I'll be publishing this while on the road. Just writing it. Much the same as taking notes, really. Except that I'll be able to read it later.

We're sitting in the ICE in Cologne Hauptbahnhof, hoping we've got on the right bit of the train. It splits here. Can't recall where the other bit goes. Not Amsterdam, so it's pretty academic. As the reservation display says “Köln A.dam C”, I feel pretty confident. Not totally, but pretty.

It's been a funny old day. Dolores has caught the nasty stomach thing that makes you burp like crazy and feel like shit. We've all had it. My bout was on a workday. As was Andrew's. Lucky us. Not so much fun when you get it on a fun day.

Far less shopping for Dolores. She didn't feel like walking around much. We spent most of the day in the pub. Not such a disaster for me, I guess. Who am I kidding? It was an almost perfect day. Full of Kölsch, sausages and bratkartoffeln (so much healthier than chips). I squeezed in a last sausage just before the train pulled in. You have to love a country where you can buy beer and bratwurst on the platform.

We are on the right bit of the train. Unless the conductor's seriously confused. He's just announced that we're heading for Amsterdam.

Two pubs. Where we spent the day. Not just one. Peter's Brauhaus and Fruh. Despite the tiny measures, I didn't spend long nursing a lonely thirst. The waiters had me sussed as a pisshead straight off and kept up a steady stream of fresh beers. Very important when the beer is sub-4% and comes in 20cl glasses.

I was a bit worried in Fruh. The barrels were suspiciously new and large. The oak still yellow and smooth instead of pitted and grey, the hoops shiny, not rusty. I'm a naturally suspicious type. Change is usually for the worse. Had they swapped to fake barrels like Fässla? The beer tasted fine, but I'd already had 8 or 9 in Peter's.

I was relieved when I saw the barrels chocked up. Not sure if I've captured that in a photo. Though I did get a couple of good ones. I'd wondered about the dim nature of photos taken in poor light with my new camera. I'd meant to read the manual, but you know how it is. I spend half my life reading brewing manuals. It sort of fills my manual reading quota.

I should have known how to solve the problem. Just let Andrew fiddle around with buttons. He soon worked it out. And how to get it to focus on my glass of beer rather than a random bit of the background.. I'm so glad I had kids. They're great at working out all the technical stuff I can't be bothered to.

That's about it. I'll spare you the exact details of my sausages. That information is for Dolores alone. Quite a dull trip, really. I wonder if Lexie fancies a trip to the buffet for some vodka?

Lommi's, Cologne

It was a sad day when Lommi's closed on the retirement of the landlord on 28th December 2004. If only because I'd never visited this legendary pub, despite being warned it was likely to close soon. Hans Lommerzheim had been running for more than 50 years. He had to be past retirement age. It's on the west bank of the Rhine. That's my main excuse for never making it there. And my fear of bridges. I won't go into it further here. Why did I choose to live in Amsterdam?

In March 2008, Lommi's reopened. I'm so pleased: I will be able to experience this cult boozer after all. According to this report in the Kölner Stadt-Anzeiger, new owner Rudolf Päffgen has tried to leave everything as it was. Judging by the photo, bomb damage was patched up just after the war. Let's hope they replaced all the window panes. I'm a big fan of genuine age in a building, but broken windows never look good. Just asking for an arsonist to come calling.

I'm assuming that's a Päffgen from the brewing family who's taken over the pub. Päffgen Kölsch was what they served, so it would seem logical. But maybe it's the rival branch that runs Pfaffen. (I'm a great journalist. aren't I? Either way, there'll be good beer.

Gaststätte Lommerzheim
Siegesstr. 18,
50679 Köln (Deutz).

I have a pub guide to Cologne that, even if I say so myself, is quite good. I've just updated the entry for Lommi's.


(The rather nice photograph was taken by Laurent Mousson. As I said, I've never been there.)

A day without details

Yesterday we went to Cologne for the day. The main purpose was looking at the Christmas market. That and buying German-style food. Dolores is always keen on stocking up the freezer with German things. She is, after all, a German thing herself.

Even when on such a non beer-oriented trip with the family, I always take my notebook along. With the state of my memory, I need notes if I'm to remember the details. My trusty purple notebook was in my bag. But that's where it stayed.

I've drunk in the beer garden of Peters Brauhaus on Alter Markt a couple of times. I'd never been inside. We tried to eat there last time we were in town, but it was closed for a private party. This time we jammily got a table, even though it was mobbed. Bloody christmas market.

I seem to remember hearing that Peters brewery had closed and the Kölsch was now brewed elsewhere. Gravity-served but pretty bland. Inoffensive. The food was good. The kids ate for less than 4 euros (that I can remember) . How civilised Germany is.

No Päffgen, unfortunately. Bierhaus en d'r Salzgass was too full. But there was a spare table to stand at outside Zum Pfaffen. "Stop whinging. You'll have plenty of chance to sit down on the train." I didn't say that. Dolores did. She beat me to it. Even though my feet and ankles were aching like hell. (It's my war wounds. I haven't told you about my time in the South American jungle, haveI?) The Pfaffen Bier was really quite nice. More character than you get from Kölsch nowadays. Hoppy and bitter (there will be no details today, remember). Good enough for me to stop worrying about the onset of arthritis. A shame I had only time for four before the kids started losing their toes.

More luck in Früh, where we found space in the no smoking room. Again, meals for the kids under four euros. The beer was disappointing. I didn't see how it was served, but fizzing in the glass isn't what I associate with gravity dispense. Slightly worse than Peters. No fag smoke was a big enough plus to offset that.

I had bockwurst for my tea from a busy stand underneath the train platforms. Why doesn't Amsterdam have proper sausage sellers? They seem obligatory in German station concourses. In Austria they're commoner than British chip shops. The same is true in the Czech Republic. Holland has frikandel, grey meat tubes of uncertain provenance. Yummy. They make bitterballen look like haute cuisine.

As vague as my memory. Note the virtual total lack not just of details but of any substance at all after the point where I'd had my 20th glass of Kölsch. Tomorrow my memory will have faded more and yesterday will truly become"a day without details".

Cologne 06.04.2007

8:30 Get up.
9:40 Catch number 2 tram.
10:34 Get in ICE train.
11:43 Head for the train's bar.
11:44 Talk to a young Canadian while waiting the 5 minutes it takes to pull a 40cl plastic cup of Warsteiner. Sounds as if he's been on too much wacky backy while in Amsterdam. He's from Regina. I refrain from making the obvious joke because Lexie is with me. I thought they used to sell bottles of Hefeweizen.
13:12 Arrive at Köln Hauptbahnhof.
13:20 Discover that our lunch destitnation, Peter's Brauhaus, has a private party.
13:25 My first glass of Sion. I'm not impressed. Watery and slightly nasty.
13:30 - 14:30 Theyre having Bayeischer Wochen in Sion. Blue and white is everywhere. They have Bavarian food. But the beer is still a pretty dull Kölsch. I remember it as being better last year. Maybe I was just in a good mood. The klose and mashed pototo are out of a packet and the chips are crap, like from a hamburger chain. The Schweinebraten itself is OK. Pretty poor overall for a Brauhaus. I wish Peter's had been open.

14:30 - 15:00 I hang around outside the Lego shop trying not to look like a kiddy fiddler.

15:05 I give Andrew the choice of walking to the Stadsmuseum or going on a pub crawl.

15:06 A typically crappy modern German pub, whose name I didn't bother to look at. I don't plan going back. A cheap glass of top-pressure Gilden Kölsch. Not noticeably worse than the beer in Sion.

15:35 - 16:00 I hadn't realised how close Malzmuhle is to the Lego shop. Seem quite a lot of Americans in. Do they come because Bill Clinton once drank here? By far the best Kölsch so far. A really nice earthy hop touch. But still a bit too subtle, even for a Kölsch. The adjacent room suddenly disgorges several dozen pensioners wearing matching t-shirts. It seem to be some sort of class reunion. Our paths cross again later. They 're on a pub crawl, too.



16:05-16:25 Zum Pfaffen I come here because Andrew likes the statue tables around the bar. Packed outside, vuirtually empty inside. Beer with a good bit more umph to it. Not perfectly clear. I'm not sure if they call it a Kölsch. A lot more character and pleasantly hoppy, if not exactly bitter. Best beer so far.


16:25 - 16:45 Brauhaus in d'r Salzgasse. Can't miss this one. Päffgen Kölsch and a nice pub. Just like last year, they ask Andrew if he wants a beer. He's on Cola Light, lads. He had a heavy one last night. Hoppy, naturally-carbonated aroma. Smells good. Päffgen is still the one to beat.




1700_17:20 Sit in the very cosy taproom of Sünner im Walfisch with a bloke wearing a Tusker t-shirt and his English girlfriend. They are much amused by the beer towers. As always, ordering cheap liquor gets me in well with the locals. Everyone loves a pisshead. The gravity-served Sünner is pretty uninspiring. Vaguely hop-flavoured liquid. Virtually no distinguishing features.

17:30 - 18:30 Eat well in a no smoking room in Früh am Dom. The Kölsch is light, but tasty. Slips down very nicely with the food.

Those stupid little Kölsch glasses

Two reasons for this post: I'm off to Cologne on Saturday and Stonch said he enjoyed my travel reports. No numbers today, just a series of crap jokes. I hope you enjoy it. Tomorrow it's back to numbers.

On my last trip to Cologne, I took my son Andrew to the Römisch-Germanische Museum. When we came out, there was still an hour and a quarter before our appointment with the rest of the family. It's not hard to guess my opinion of the best way to use that time. Occasionally, I can be very organised. I had a map, marked with pubs I needed to visit, as well as the map I carry around in my head at all times. How could I persuade Andrew to traipse around them all?

"How many pubs do you think I can get around in 75 minutes, Andrew?" "Four or Five."

It's a happy day for the parents when a child learns the value of money. Then they can be bribed. And often with laughably small amounts of cash. It's embarrassing, really, how little you need to offer. But not quite enough to stop me doing it.

The list of pubs in my head was getting no shorter.

"Pah! I bet I can do eight, no trouble. Five euros says I can."

Andrew is surprisingly knowledgeable about pubs and beer for his tender years. He's seen me knocking back pints in England, liters in Bavaria, 33 cls of Trappist in Belgium. He has a pretty good idea of how long it takes me to drink a beer. It's no wonder he thought that he was onto a winner. Whereas I, for the first time I could see an advantage in the irritatingly minute glasses they serve Kölsch in.

He wasn't looking so cocky after I knocked off Alter Markt Treff and Kulisse in five minutes. That was three more than they deserved. In Pfaffen, Andrew insisted I photograph the statue tables - no easy feat, in the gloomiest corner of the pub, with my camera. It wasted valuable drinking time. He isn't daft.

His optimism was brief. When I cheekily ordered a second in Bierhaus en d'r Salzgass (it is Päffgen Kölsch, straight from a wooden cask, after all), he knew the game was up. A quick exit from Sünner im Walfisch, thanks to a friendly, efficient waitress, took away his last hope. Four down, loads of time left. Confidently, I chose Biermuseum, where all draughts are 40 cl , as our next stop. A couple of minutes were enough to dispatch a Doppelbock (I was in too much of a rush to ask which).

Not even the 10 minutes we hung around in Haxenhaus zum Rheingarten before a surly waiter threw a menu at us, could perk Andrew up. Especially when, pissed off at being made to sit at the bar in a half-empty pub, I downed my expensive Kölsch (1.70, 20 cents more than the most I paid anywhere else) in one. By the time we hit Im Martinswinkel, he had lost interest in our bet. Like me, he's fascinated by history. He was soon drawn to the "look what carpet bombing does to an historic city" photos. You see them a lot in Cologne. I can understand why.

I made it with five minutes to spare. Even after doubling up in en d'r Salzgass and being ignored in Haxenhaus. One of the most pleasurable five euros I've ever earned. I got to drink my favourite Kölsch, visit two places I had never been inside before and find a new pub to add to my guide.

So the next time I begin to burst with frustration at being continually in need of a fresh beer because of those stupid, tiny Kölsch glasses, I'll remember that they can, if only very occasionally, be quite useful.