Schneider Weisse: Wheat Beer between Tradition and Innovation

A journey to Kelheim in eastern Bavaria is a journey to wheat beer nirvana. A charmingly unassuming town at the confluence of the Danube and the Altmühl Rivers, Kelheim began life in the ninth century as a county seat. Through the ages it has served as the birthplace of Bavarian dukes, a waystation for the transport of wine, salt, fish, and wood, and a staging ground for Swedish troops bent on capturing Regensburg during the Thirty Years’ War. Nowadays Kelheim attracts adventurers of a different type: cyclists passing through town along the Danube Cycling Path, day-trippers setting off on a river journey through the dramatic Danube Gorge to the equally stunning Kloster Weltenburg, and beer pilgrims thirsting after liquid redemption. Set amid gently undulating fields of wheat and barley and perched on the eastern edge of the Hallertau hop region, Kelheim also happens to be the home of the illustrious wheat beer brewery, Schneider Weisse.

One of the most forward-looking of Germany’s venerable old breweries, Schneider Weisse is also somewhat of an anomaly on Germany’s brewing scene. To begin with, the brewery has brewed nothing but wheat beers since its founding in 1872. What’s more, Georg Schneider I purchased the privilege of brewing Weissbier from King Ludwig II at a time when the popularity of wheat beers had long since waned. If not for the Schneider family’s staunch commitment to the wheat beer tradition down through the current generation, Bavarian-style Weissbier may well have become one of those historical curiosities like Broyhan. A century-and-a-half after Georg I founded his Weissbier brewery, a Schneider––Georg Schneider VI––is still at the helm, creating innovative beers while preserving tradition.

[Note: This is a “long read” best consumed with a glass of Aventinus Eisbock. Skip the next two sections if history isn’t your favourite beer style.]

Weissbier before Schneider Weisse*

The origins of today’s Bavarian-style Weissbier** are shrouded in obscurity and its development marked by conflict between two aristocratic families. The style is said to have originated in fifteenth-century Bohemia, and was probably brewed for the first time in Bavaria by the Degenbergs, whose power base in the eastern Bavarian town of Schwarzach bordered Bohemia. Baron Hans IV and his ambitious Degenberg successors sought to take advantage of a divided Bavaria, feuding constantly with the Wittelsbach dukes they nominally served as ministerial officials. Despite armed skirmishes, the Degenberg clan never did manage to expand its power at the expense of the Wittelsbachs. But they were powerful enough to wrest brewing concessions from their overlords, concessions that kept wheat beer brewing alive in the face of proscriptions contained in the Reinheitsgebot (Beer Purity Law).***

Duke Albrecht IV succeeded in reunifying Bavaria between 1503 and 1506, and his sons Wilhelm IV and Ludwig X extended his Reinheitsgebot from Munich to the rest of Bavaria in 1516. The Reinheitsgebot famously limited brewing ingredients to barley, hops, and water. But the Degenbergs had been in possession of their wheat beer privilege since well before the Reinheitsgebot became the law of the duchy, and were loath to give up their lucrative Weissbier enterprise just because their rivals had decreed what could and couldn’t go into beer. They wielded enough power locally to defy the Wittelsbachs, so much so that Duke Wilhelm IV confirmed and even extended the Degenbergs’ Weissbier privilege to the Bavarian realm north of the Danube. Some years later, though, Wilhelm’s successor Duke Albrecht V antagonized the Degenbergs by demanding a tax on the Weissbier they sold. Baron Hans Sigismund flat out refused to pay, occasioning another feud that lasted until he passed away in 1602. That was an auspicious day for Duke (and later Prince) Maximillian I, for not only did the feud evaporate, but Hans Sigismund had also failed to produce an heir. With the Degenberg line now effectively extinct, the rules of the day held that the wheat beer privilege reverted to the Wittelsbachs.

And what a privilege it was. Weissbier, the elegant cousin of the murky Braunbier (brown beer) brewed for the masses, was once the purview of the aristocracy. But at the hands of the Degenbergs, who had by then built a network of wheat beer breweries north of the Danube, commoners were also beginning to develop a taste for this spritzy beverage. Sensing an opportunity, Maximillian I called the head brewer of the former Degenberg brewery in Schwarzach to Munich, where Maximillian opened a Weissbier brewery next to his Braunbier brewery. (Incidentally, these breweries occupied the site of an institution still familiar to many imbibers the world over, the Hofbräuhaus.) Maximillian quickly set about adding to his empire of wheat beer breweries, including one in Kelheim built in 1607 (current home of Schneider Weisse). The duke effectively acquired a monopoly on wheat beer for the Wittelsbachs by granting his line the sole Bavaria-wide exception to the barley-only strictures of the Reinheitsgebot. He went even further in cementing his monopoly, requiring innkeepers not only to serve Weissbier, but to purchase it directly from the Wittelsbach breweries.

No matter. Aristocrat and commoner alike loved the stuff, contributing enormous sums to the Wittelsbachs’ coffers over the next few centuries. But as with all trends in taste, so too with Weissbier. Once the noble drink of the aristocracy, Weissbier gradually lost its appeal as it became ever more widely available.

***

*Aside from a few sources on the history of Bavaria during the Renaissance and Reformation, I haven’t had the chance yet to consult secondary sources in English or German that recount the early history of wheat beer brewing in Bavaria in light of the broader history of the Wittelsbachs and the Degenbergs, to say nothing of primary sources. Beyond Weissbier and its aristocratic protagonists, I’m also interested in nailing down the relationship between the Reinheitsgebot and Weissbier more tightly. One day. In the meantime, take the history above with a grain of salt. I have a few sources in my sights, but if anyone can turn me onto reliable secondary sources based on archival research, I’d be most grateful.

**Weissbier (or white beer) initially referred to a beer that was significantly lighter than its Braunbier (brown beer) or Rotbier (red beer) counterparts. Weissbier could be brewed with either air-dried malted barley (when conditions permitted) or with wheat. It wasn’t until the time of the Degenbergs that Weissbier became associated with wheat. 

***The famous beer edict proclaimed in Munich in 1487 and extended to the rest of Bavaria in 1516 only belatedly became known as the Reinheitsgebot — some four centuries later in 1918. Despite being regarded as one of the world’s first food safety laws, “beer purity” was but one concern among many, including the regulation of beer pricing and the control of grain supplies. To avoid confusion, I’ll continue to refer to the edict past and present as the Reinheitsgebot.

Schneider and the Revitalization of Weissbier

By the early 1800s, advances in brewing technology had translated into improvements in the quality of Braunbier, and the juggernaut from Pilsen was also looming on the horizon. Revenues from Weissbier dried up, and the Wittelsbachs began devoting most of their resources to the production of Braunbier. It wasn’t much longer until Bavarians of all stripes looked upon Weissbier as a relic from the past.

Enter Georg Schneider the First. When the lease on the royal Weisses Brauhaus came up for renewal in 1854-1855, Georg I snapped it up and breathed new life into the tradition of wheat beer brewing. Schneider knew that space for Braunbier production was an ongoing issue at the royal brewing complex, an issue that he turned to his advantage in negotiations with King Ludwig II and his representatives. Essentially, Schneider offered to vacate the Weisses Brauhaus if Ludwig II repudiated the royal prerogative to brew wheat beer and extend the right to private citizens. Fortuitously, the Maderbräu brewery in Munich’s Tal district came up for sale around this time, killing two birds with one stone. Georg I vacated the Weisses Brauhaus, thereby freeing up space for the Wittelsbachers’ Braunbier, and the Wittelsbachs ceded their wheat beer rights. With one fell swoop, Georg I became the first since the proclamation of the Reinheitsgebot in 1516 to found a private Weissbier brewery in Bavaria. By September 1872, Weissbier was flowing forth from the brewery that would be Georg Schneider & Sohn’s Munich home till aerial bombardment put an end to brewing operations during WWII.

Fate dealt a blow to the Schneider family when Georg III passed away suddenly in 1905 at the young age of thirty-five. But Georg III’s widow Mathilde made sure that the brewery remained in family hands, taking over brewery operations with a relative until Georg IV was old enough to step into his late father’s shoes. But she exerted her influence from behind the scenes, for gender politics in Bavaria still hadn’t evolved to the point where a woman could openly lead a brewery. Mathilde was an astute businesswoman with imaginative tastes. She created the recipe for Aventinus in 1907, and presided over Schneider Weisse’s emergence as the largest wheat beer brewery in southern Germany by the time WWI rolled around.

Georg IV assumed the brewery’s helm in 1924 at a time when many other breweries had been laid low by the ravages of WWI and the subsequent chaos and hyperinflation of the immediate postwar period. In 1928, Georg IV acquired the Kurfürstliches Weisses Brauhaus erected in Kelheim in 1607 by Maximillian I — a decision with serendipitous consequences, as it turned out. In the wake of the destruction visited upon the Schneider Weisse brewing facilities near the end of WWII, Georg IV began transferring brewing operations to Kelheim, and not a moment too soon. Brewing was suspended across Bavaria at the end of the war, but the Schneiders were now poised to begin anew in Kehlheim. Because Georg IV had never joined the Nazi party and had even blocked Hitler from delivering political speeches in the Weisses Brauhaus during his rise, the American occupation authorities favoured Schneider Weisse with a permit to resume production in July 1945.

Under Georg V, Schneider Weisse began an ambitious project of renovation that sought to preserve traditional processes. These projects also helped Schneider Weisse gain attention well beyond Bavaria’s borders and propel their beers to international acclaim.

Schneider Weisse Wheat Beer Today

Like his ancestors, Georg VI takes Schneider Weisse’s history and tradition seriously. Open fermentation is not a thing of the past, nor is secondary fermentation in the bottle with Speise (wort used for priming). Despite brewing all of his beers according to the Reinheitsgebot, he rejects the notion of tradition for tradition’s sake. Indeed, Georg VI sees the Reinheitsgebot not as a “constraining corset” but as a myriad of possibilities that demand all of the brewer’s artistic acumen and technical expertise. It’s precisely this mix of tradition and innovation that drives Schneider Weisse. Notes Georg VI, beer enthusiasts want not only a beer with a compelling story behind it, they also want a beer that says something new. In the face of craft beer’s arrival on German shores, Georg VI is a steady voice exhorting his fellow German brewers to draw upon their deep artisanal roots in the service of creativity.

Though hardly anyone in Germany spoke of craft beer in 2007, Schneider Weisse had already embarked on a path that would set them apart from other defenders of the Reinheitsgebot. It was then that head brewer Hans-Peter Drexler collaborated with Garrett Oliver of Brooklyn to produce Hopfenweisse, a hefty and hoppy Weizendoppelbock that brings a bracing 40 IBUs to the table. (If that sounds modest relative to standard hopping rates in North American craft beers, consider that Schneider Weisse Original hovers around a restrained 14 IBUs.) In a twist that shines a light on how much German beer tastes have shifted in the past decade or so, Hopfenweisse was originally sold exclusively in the United States. According to Georg VI, an audience for such a beer simply didn’t exist at the time in Germany.

Another beer that was only available in the U.S. between 2000 and 2009 is Schneider Weisse’s organic Tap 4 Festweisse, a brew some American aficionados of German beer might recognize as “Wiesn Edelweisse.” For this beer Schneider Weisse reached back into its past, paying tribute to the Festbier-strength wheat beer they used to sell on the Oktoberfest meadow (Wiesn) before they packed up and left Munich after WWII. But as much as the beer recalls the past, it faces the future: in place of hops from their backyard, Schneider uses Cascade. This may not sound all that radical to North American ears, but the move is in keeping with Schneider’s hallmark approach to beer brewing: carefully considered creativity that builds on tradition. The beer itself is luscious but crisp and quaffable, weaving together a hint of citrus and floral aromas with mild clove and banana into a surprisingly colourful tableau.

Schneider Weisse now offers a year-round lineup that features eight different iterations of Weissbier, including the aforementioned Hopfenweisse (Tap 5) together with long-time favourites Aventinus (Tap 6) and Schneider Weisse Original (Tap 7), their amber-hued flagship with its elegant baking spice medley of aromas. The brewery rounds these out with intriguing one-offs and the occasional repeat performance released under their Tap X series. The Tap X beers usually feature experiments with new hop varieties, or even with different strains of yeast. The 2016 Marie’s Rendezvous is a fine example: a spicy, fruity, and richly textured cross between a Weizen Doppelbock and a wheat wine fermented to a prodigious 10% ABV and then refermented in the bottle with Belgian Trappist yeast. Earlier this decade, Schneider Weisse released a blond Weizenbock brewed with Nelson Sauvin hops––quite a departure, considering that local hops such as Hallertauer carry the bulk of whatever small hop charge there is in typical Bavarian-style wheat beers. Significantly — especially in light of the supposed conservatism of the German palate — this beer’s original 2011/2012 release was so popular that Schneider Weisse brought it back for subsequent runs in 2017 and 2018. And no wonder. The beer combines a honeyed malt intensity with all the baking spice you’d expect in the Schneider Weisse Original with elegant white-grape aromatics of stone fruit and gooseberry.

Schneider Weisse also uses Tap X to play with our preconceptions of German beer. Not long after the initial release of Nelson Sauvin, Schneider brewed an intriguing Porter Weisse. (Read my review of the beer here.) And in yet another twist where the old is new again, their Tap X Cuvée Barrique introduced aromas and flavours that haven’t found their way into most German beers for well over a century. Appearing annually in slightly different guises, Cuvée Barrique features Aventinus and Eisbock matured separately for several months in wine barriques before blending. The resulting cuvée is a universe away from your typical Hefeweizen. I remember feeling slightly disoriented when I first tried this beer in Vienna in 2016, a disorientation occasioned not only by the warming alcohol of the beer. The Cabernet Franc, American Pinot Noir, and new German oak barriques of this edition imparted delicately tart, berry-like, and subtly Brettanomyces-inflected flavours and aromas that were, to say the least, surprising. Wild yeast character is something that most contemporary German brewers scrupulously avoid. But the brew itself is entirely in accordance with the hallowed Reinheitsgebot. Pick this one up if you can find it and lay it down.

Aside from Schneider Weisse’s rustic and cozy tavern in Kelheim, you can find their beers in Munich at the Schneider Bräuhaus im Tal (next to where the original brewery once stood) or at the Schneider Bräuhaus Berg am Laim in a quiet district of eastern Munich. With its beer garden, this location is also an ideal way to relax away from the crowds.

Related Posts

Not Your Average Wheat Beer: Schneider’s Porter Weisse

Munich’s Beer Gardens East and West of the Isar

Sources

Jeff Alworth, The Beer Bible (Workman Publishing, 2015).

Horst Dornbusch, Prost! The Story of German Beer (Brewers Publications, 1997).

Schneider Weisse, SchneiderZeit: Zeitung für Weisse-Freunde und Genießer (2015 edition).

Stan Hieronymus, Brewing with Wheat: The ‘Wit’ and ‘Weizen’ of World Wheat Beer Styles (Brewers Publications, 2010).

Eric Warner, German Wheat Beer (Brewers Publications, 1992).

Oliver Wesseloh, Bier Leben: Die neue Braukultur (Reinbeck bei Hamburg: Rowohlt Taschenbuch Verlag, 2015).

The Schneider Weisse website contains a wealth of information, much of it available in English. I also took a tour of Schneider Weisse on 6 June 2017 and met with Stephan Butz of Schneider Weisse’s Marketing and PR team after the tour.

I owe Stephan an extra special thanks for clarifying historical details about the brewery during a series of email exchanges in August 2019, and for serving as a liaison with Georg Schneider VI in answering my questions about Schneider Weisse and the contemporary German brewing scene.

Images by F.D. Hofer and, where indicated, courtesy of Schneider Weisse.

© 2019 F.D. Hofer and A Tempest in a Tankard. All rights reserved.