Fearing God makes one blessed
Drinking beer makes one happy
Therefore, fear God and drink beer
and you will stay blessed and happy
—Anonymous
What separates the bona fide beer styles of the world from the impostors or wanna-bes is the glass. Insipid swill can be served in the most generic glassware, but this classic beer style has its own distinctive glass. Weizen beer has its vase-shaped glass with a narrow bottom, real ales have the queen’s pint, and Kölsch has the two-centiliter Stange. In fact, according to the Kölsch Konvention, “the producers of Kölsch will to the best of their abilities see that Kölsch will only be poured in the so-called ‘Kölsch Stange’ (Kölner Stange).” The prevailing theory is that the unique size and shape of the Stange prevents the beer from becoming too warm or going flat too soon after it is poured. The Stange holds a net volume of approximately seven ounces and is made of very thin glass. Net volume is to be differentiated from gross volume, because in Germany all glassware has a calibration mark below the rim of the glass, designed to protect the interests of the consumer. A beer in Germany should be poured to the level of the calibration mark and above it a rich head of meniscoid foam should tower over the rim of the glass.
Stange.
For the waiter, or Köbes, in Cologne, the two-centiliter glass is a blessing and a curse. Smaller glassware translates to greater per ounce price that the customer pays. Assuming a customer will come into a pub and drink a certain amount of beer, regardless of the size of the pour, this translates to higher revenue. (Bavarian beer garden owners argue that it’s better to sell an entire liter mug full of beer as opposed to five two-centiliter beers). On the other hand, the Köbesse in Cologne work harder to sell these higher priced beers, making two and one-half trips to the bar to serve the same amount of beer that a waiter or waitress in Bavaria could serve in one trip. The glass is also much thinner than even a Pils glass, let alone a sturdy Bavarian glass or mug, so increased breakage is common in pubs in Cologne. Also, more glasses have to be washed to serve the same amount of beer than in Bavaria. Nonetheless, the Stange is what Kölsch is served in, no matter which pub in Cologne you visit.
Pinten.
The Stange hasn’t always been the glassware of choice in Cologne. The original beer mugs were called Pinten. (I’ve always said German is a really easy language to learn because of the sheer number of cognates it has to English). These were fired, clay mugs that did not always necessarily bear a resemblance to today’s beer mugs or glasses. These Pinten were decorated simply and, more often than not, probably resembled a fifth grader’s pottery project when it came to symmetry and sophistication of detail (Mathar/Spiegel 1989, 126–27). Hey, as long as it was beertight.
Schnelle.
The next step in the evolution toward the Stange was the Schnelle. These tended to be tall, narrow mugs and were more reminiscent of today’s concept of a beer mug. Also made of clay, the Schnelle was richly decorated, often with allegories. The Schnelle held more than a half liter of beer. As the Industrial Revolution gained momentum, so did the mass production of glassware. Before that time, beer drinkers drank from clay mugs, because glass was expensive and difficult to process. The birth of the glass Stange is generally accepted to have been at the end of World War I. After the war, there was a strong demand for glass, and the Kölner Stange was simple to mass produce quickly. Since that time, the drinking vessel of choice in Cologne has been the 0.2-liter, tall, cylindrical glass called the Stange. For special occasions Cologners will use hand-blown, etched Stangen.
Aside from the beer itself and the Stange, there is one common thread to any Kölsch pub: the Köbes. Yet another characteristic that reflects the depth of brewing tradition in Cologne, the Köbes is a lot more than just a waiter. To be a Köbes is somewhat of an honor, and you won’t find the same type of turnover among the Köbesse as you will among other service staff. Originally the Köbes wore a blue knit waistcoat, a blue linen apron, and a leather money pouch covering the crotch area. The blue sweater has by and large given way to blue or white short-sleeved shirts, but the Köbes is still a fixture in all of the major brewpubs (in the expanded sense of the word) in Cologne.
The Köbesse were originally the brewery apprentices. In addition to their vocation in brewing, they also had to work in the tap rooms to learn how to get on with people “in the real world.” The word Köbes is the Kölsch word for “Jakob” (Jacob). The story goes something like this: Many of the richer Cologners used to go to Santiago de Compostella in northern Spain on pilgrimages. This was called the path, or way, of Jacob, because they received a Jacob’s shell as a reward for their efforts. The rich could afford the journey by carriage, but the apprentices could not. So, they would work in guest houses and pubs along the way doing the service work that they were known for. Colloquially, Köbesse became the phrase for “making money on the Jacob’s pilgrimage.”
The Köbesse can only be male. Naturally, this is not law, but in Europe the adherence to tradition sometimes still prevails over any notion of political correctness. The Köbesse serve huge numbers of beers, in addition to any food they might bring to the table. Remember, in Cologne the common size for a draft beer is 200 ml. In Bavaria it is 500 ml, similar to a pint in the United States or United Kingdom. There is documentation of two Köbesse working at a pub around the turn of the century. Reportedly they served over 12,000 glasses of beer on busy Sundays. If we assume a 12-hour shift, that’s 500 beers per Köbes, per hour, or almost 10 per minute. Things are a little less hectic today, but even the largest brewpubs have only a few Köbesse working the floor at any given time. They are not unfriendly per se, but there is no place for the indecisive or the teetotaling in a Kölsch pub. When the Köbes has a moment or two to spare, it is not uncommon that he will let his patrons buy him a quick beer. One of the reasons the Köbesse can be so efficient is that they only have one style of beer to serve. They don’t have to worry about having 20 different beers on tap (Mathar/Spiegel 1989, 129–30).
The coaster, aside from its immeasurable value as a marketing tool for breweries, has a very practical purpose for the Köbesse and servers all over Germany: marks are made around the outer edge of the coaster every time a round of beers is served. This is the way the Köbesse tabulate the number of beers consumed by a party or an individual. Even today, despite the advancements in point-of-sale computer systems for restaurants, most traditional pubs in Germany calculate the check total (at least for beers) in this way. When the guest is ready to pay, the Köbes will ask the guest to remind him what he or she ordered to eat and then count the number of marks on the coaster to calculate the amount to charge for the beers.
As is so often the case, today’s customs have their roots in yesterday’s practices. Before the advent of the paper coaster, the number of beers served was marked with chalk directly onto the table or onto the wall. When someone ordered a beer, he or she was “written up.” If the customer paid, his or her name was erased, otherwise it “stood in the chalk.” In the more “cultured” pubs, a beer was served with a porcelain saucer (see illustration on page 111). Each time the waiter cleared an empty glass, he would stack the saucer on top of the one he brought with the previous beer. When the guest was ready to leave, the waiter simply counted the number of saucers. Of course, there was also the obvious method of letting the empty glasses or mugs collect on the table. (Today over two billion beer coasters are produced worldwide every year.)
One of the more truly unique elements to a true Kölsch pub is a confessional. As we’ve learned, there can be a strong connection between Christianity and brewing, but this confessional had another purpose. Literally more of an observation point, the beichtstuhl was typically located between the hallway where the beer is poured and the main floor of the pub. It is normal to assume that a publican would observe the activity in his operation from behind the bar, but Kölsch pubs don’t have bars. From the location of the beichtstuhl the publican could observe not only the pouring of the beer, but the activity on the main floor. In many cases the publican controlled the entire flow of food from the kitchen and beer from the taps from his “throne.” There is still one Kölsch pub today where the publican inspects every order that goes out for quality and accuracy. Historians speculate that the concept of the beichtstuhl originated sometime in the last 200 years as traffic into the pubs increased dramatically. Although the beichtstuhl has by and large suffered the same fate as despotic management techniques, many pubs still have the original structure in place and some still use it for its intended purpose.