Burcak v. Beer

After two long months of monotonously guzzling foamy beer in the poorly lit basements of pubs, I have began to reminisce about the first several weeks of our semester in Prague when the weather was gorgeous and we had our first sips of burcak. Although we all drank our fair share of the famed Pilsner in those early days, wine season had just begun and celebratory festivals were held throughout the city and the Czech Republic more broadly. Though Czech wine has not achieved the wide notoriety enjoyed by their beer, I had heard Moravian grapes were quite good, and being generally more partial to wine than beer, was eager to try it. So a few of my friends and I went to a festival held at the Prague Botanical Gardens. The entrance wrapped around a slopped vineyard in steep switchbacks and vendors supplied with gallons of wine rested between every incline. When we finally finished the slow climb to the top, we jumped on the end of a vendor's line. Unsure of what was typically offered at these festivals, we were surprised to find that they did not sell matured wine, but only burcak. Also know as young wine, burcak is fermented fresh grape juice- a Czech favorite during the first month of harvest when it is the most fresh. Before the festival, I had had the drink once before at a pub in Prague. Having lost much of its natural sweetness and flavor, my first sips of burcak were hard to swallow. It smelled like rotten eggs and, with that aroma assaulting my palette, I could taste nothing else. Needless to say, I was skeptical about buying the full liter bottles sold at the festival, but decided if it burcak was ever going to be as good as native Czechs promised, it would be here. We bough two liters, a red and a white, for our group of five and continued into the garden were everyone else seemed to be gathered.

Perched on top of a sloping hill that backs into a thick forest, Prague's Botanical Garden had a wonderful panoramic view of the surrounding area but simultaneously felt removed from the neighboring urban landscape. The gardens themselves were well manicured and enjoying their last full bloom before fall. Between beds of flowers on the soft, flat grass everyone sat unceremoniously cross-legged, some on blankets, some with picnic baskets, but unanimously with two or three liters of burcak. While I've heard on several occasions that Czech's are having fewer and fewer children, it was hard to believe on that day with so many toddlers running about. It was a perfect day, bright and warm, and all the locals seemed to have the same idea of how to spend it. We stayed at the festival for hours and left as the sun was setting, bellies full of still fermenting burcak and skin tanned by the afternoon sun. Oh, and the burcak was amazing. Sweet, light, and slightly carbonated, it is as tasty as juice but surprisingly alcoholic. The sheer seasonal presence of the drink makes it even more delicious I think. Only available during the beginning of each harvest, good burcak is not offered throughout the year, and seems to be found the most fresh at festivals similar to that held at the Botanical Gardens.

While some countries have a culture of food that is bound to the traditions, customs, and land, the Czech Republic has a drinking culture. Most students studying abroad do not need to be told this, and in fact it is actually one of the most often cited reasons for their stay in Prague. Their interpretation and participation in the culture however, is fatally flawed. Generally, the Czechs do not binge drink every night and wake in a hungover stupor (as most students do). Rather than a means of inebriation, alcohol is meant to be tasted, enjoyed, and respected. I'm obviously not arguing that Czechs don't get hammered occasionally, but that they value the craft of making and the quality of alcohol. This drinking culture is separated into two seasonally dichotomous spheres- that of beer and that of wine. While pubs are frequented year round and the popularity of beer never wanes, the end of the summer and beginning of fall seems to be a time for wine and for burcak. Encouraged to enjoy the beverages outside in parks and gardens amongst family and friends, the sphere of wine culture in the Czech Republic is public, social, and takes advantage of the seasonal weather. The many festivals throughout Prague alone (not even considering those in Moravian wine country) reveals the underpinnings of this culture. Wine is focal point for gathering together, enjoying time outside, and socializing with one and other. Beer culture seems to be the antithesis. Mostly confined to pubs and bars, beer is consumed in dark, shadowy interiors and basements that provide protection from the harsh weather outside. The physical space of the pub deters communication and spontaneous socializing. Pub patrons drink their beers alone, perhaps with an accompanying friend, and usually do not extend themselves beyond their table to engage others. The pub, though traditionally a local gathering place, has become a mere pit stop to warm up and fill up on beer in the modern city. This characterization is not a harsh judgement and condemnation of beer culture, but rather I think it simply mirrors seasonal tendencies in human behavior. People enjoy relaxing and socializing outdoors in the summer and fall when weather is pleasant, but are inclined to become more reclusive in an effort to stay warm and comfortable in the colder months. While I miss those wine festivals and would love a tall glass of burcak in my hand right now, as winter progresses the cavernous basements of pubs, well insulated from the frigid wind outside, seem more and more attractive.