An opinionated evening in Cologne

Cologne is one of the great brewing cities, though its associated style, Kölsch, is of no great antiquity. Most of it is also too cold, too fizzy, and completely uninteresting. Part of Kölsch's problem is the "Kölsch-Konvention", which defined what may be called Kölsch. This happened at the nadir of quality beer in 1985, and so it insists on industrial processes such as filtering. A compliant beer is also thin, with very little by way of body or maltiness, and emphasises the hops, though the big brewers ignore even that last bit. Other, more reasonable, requirements are that the beer be top-fermented, and it be brewed within the bounds of Cologne.

So, no surprise, then, that the vast majority of Kölsch is as bad as mass-market lager. But some of it is worth drinking, and the glasses are small enough it quickly warms up to a temperature where you can taste it. The best examples are served from a cask on the bar, though with CO2 added to is as the filtering means it can't come to a natural condition. 1985, remember.

So where does a beer snob go when they have a free evening in Cologne? In my case, to not as many places as you might expect, because this is December, and the Christmas Markets are open. The ones in Cologne are particularly magical, enough to distract me from beer.

First stop was Hellers (Roonstraße 33), a brewpub a little out of the way, but very convenient for my hotel. Unlike most places, Heller make a range of beers, so I had to stay a while. Their products are organic-certified, and pretty damn good. The Kölsch looks unpromising, but the hops are carefully considered, being mostly fruity but with a dry, spicy finish. Or maybe I still had the remains of the curry in my teeth? For a taste of what Kölsch should have been, had the style definition not been nobbled by big brewers, go for the Wiess (a common name for the unfiltered version of the beer). Take all the things I said about the Kölsch and multiply them. Multiple layers of citrus and spice, with an underlying drone of bitterness. Heller also do a bottled seasonal beer. At this time of year it's the Weizenbock Winterbeer. Despite using no added spices, it's the festive season in a glass: dark, strong and tasting strongly of Lebkuchen. There were other possibilities to be had, such as the Weizen, and while tempted to stay all night, I felt I really ought to revisit some other places.

Not too far away is the Päffgen Brauhaus. Now, the usually reliable Ronald Pattinson describes this place as a must visit (not a Cologne must visit, but a European must visit). That's stretching it rather a lot. If what you want is a totally typical experience of a Cologne beer hall, then yes, this is the place to be. The beer, though, is not particularly exciting. Looking back on my notes, I see I couldn't think of anything to say about it at all, neither good nor bad. I didn't photograph it either, but the building is quite interesting, so feast your eyes on that instead.

Next up, I went into town, and the legend that is the Malzmühle. Now, the Mühlen Kölsch is about as good as you can get while complying with the blandifying requirements of the Konvention. Yes, it's pale, fairly, dry, thin and the flavour comes primarily from the hops. But the hops lift the beer without ever coming anywhere near overpowering it. The result is delicate, easy-drinking, and definitely not bland. I wish they'd do an unfiltered version. I didn't try their Weizen this time round, and in the absence of someone with whom to share it, I wasn't able to try the Von Mühlen - a bottled beer made with champagne yeast. The bottle is 750ml, and costs €20.

The Brauhaus closes at midnight. Next door, the same owners have a bar which opens much later. I gave it a miss as I had other plans, but a friend who ended up in there with work colleagues says it's loud, brash and only saved by the beer — Mühlen brews and some of the usual "craft" beer suspects.

I saved one of my favourite places till the very end. Over at the other end of the Heumarkt, in tourist central, lies Brauhaus Sünner in Walfisch. It's the pub you should leave till last, but only because it's open much later than the others - they do not specify a closing time, but it will be between 1 and 2am at the weekend. It's a very traditional looking place, busy enough but usually free of the sort of people who should choose some other drug of choice over alcohol rather than ruining it for the rest of us. You know the sort. So, imagine my surprise when I arrive, late enough on a Friday night for it to be technically Saturday, to find an altercation going on between a drunk young man, one of the bar's Köbes, and another man. Imagine my further surprise (and relief), given his behaviour, when I realise that this altercation is going on in German, not English. For some reason, i.e. the usual, the young drunk man had been asked to leave the premises and was not open to the suggestion that he had had enough, and it was time to go home and sleep it off. And so it came to the traditional means of persuasion, one that will be familiar to anyone who drinks in a British city at the weekend. The final shove out the door came as I arrived. Drunk Young Man was busy shouting at the unidentified other man, I know not what for while my German improves with alcohol, other people's does not. Or maybe he was Bavarian. But he was trying to photograph the unidentified man, demanding his details, at which point the unidentified man identified himself and pointed out his name was written in large letters on the front of the building!

I tell you this not to scare you, but because of the rarity of such incidents. It's one of the joys of drinking in Germany that the locals, even when incomprehensibly drunk, are not usually Arschlöcher. To my shame, incidents of arseholery are usually accompanied by shouting in English. And so I made my way between the Köbes and his boss, and turned immediately right into the snug. Usually crowded, and with standing room only, that's part of the fun. The chap behind the bar has always been the same chap as long as I can remember, and he speaks very good English. Don't bother trying to practice your German here - he won't let you. I wonder if he's half-Dutch or something? Anyway, he's part of the character of the place and for most English-speaking tourists, an utter gem.

Sünner claims to be the oldest Kölsch brewery around, and unlike most similar claims, this one is probably true. They were the first brewery known to have named a beer Kölsch, in 1918. Theirs is one of the brews I remember from my very first trip to Cologne as a grown-up. Like all the Kölsches of note, it's served straight from the cask, and the hops are what make it special. Imagine walking through a maple forest in autumn, kicking up the leaf litter. Continuing the theme, what little sweetness there is hints at maple syrup. I stayed till closing time, and had several, then left in an orderly manner before proceeding to get lost on my way back to an hotel I'd chosen on the basis that I knew where it was. Sünner Kölsch is so good, it messes with my sense of direction — not many beers can claim that!