January 30, 2026

Twenty-Six Beers for 2026

Guiding Lights

A few years back I wrote a series that began with a post called Accounting for My Tastes in Beer and ended with a list of twenty-five beers that had caught my attention over the previous year. Last year I did something similar with my “Fifty Beers for 2025: The Full Pour.” Since those annual roundups seem to resonate with readers, I’m back at it again this year with 26 beers for ’26.

As with previous years, I confine my selection to beers I drank for the first time in the year immediately preceding (in this case, 2025). This year I decided not to include more than one beer from a single brewery. Still, it’s worth noting that some breweries whose beers I tried for the first time in 2025 could easily have placed more than one beer on this list.

View of Brno's Cathedral of St. Peter and Paul. Brno's also an underrated beer town — *Brno, an underrated beer town*

Friends Old and New

I lived in Japan for seven years on and off between 1997 and 2009. Never would I have thought that it would take me fifteen years to get back. The beers on this list don’t even scratch the surface of what’s been happening since I was last in the Land of the Rising Sun.

If last year’s list reflected my first trip to Belgium since the “before times,” this year’s list is chock-full of beers from the Czech Republic. I hadn’t been since 2018. I know, shame on me.

Last but not least, Slovenia. Slovenia may not be a beer powerhouse, but it’s still home to breweries making beer worth your time.

Rating Top-Notch Beers

Once upon a time I awarded one to three tankards to particularly notable beers as a concession to the general desire for ratings. That system is gone but not forgotten. It’s safe to say that every beer on this list would have garnered tankards under the old system. In a nod to the past, I’ll signal with one, two, or three asterisks respectively how many tankards a beer got.

Better Together

If you’re looking for maximum bang for your buck, pair this list with the one I wrote in 2024 and the two I wrote in 2025. The Winter 2025 list introduces you to fifty beers. The Summer 2025 list includes an additional twenty-five. Total that all up and add it to this year’s haul, and that’s more than 125 beers for you to seek out this year.

Prost, everyone! Happy beer hunting!

26 Beers Worth Your Time in ’26

*Listed in alphabetical order

Bad Flash (Prague), Nefiltr Ležák 12º.** Phenomenal depth and complexity. Acacia honey and baguette mingle with the fragrance of fresh hay, a hint of peach, and a champagne-like lees note, all undergirded by floral-spicy hops and a chalky minerality. Hops are subtle at first, but reach a peppery crescendo near the finish. Like a Zwickl, but with a few extra gears.

Baeren (Morioka, Japan), Ursus.* This dunkler Weizenbock from northern Japan delivers all the ripe banana, caramel, vanilla, and crême brûlée richness my Weissbier-loving heart could desire. Warming baking spice and a twist of orange zest add extra flair. A perfect post-onsen beer on a snowy night.

Big Friendly (OKC), Strawberry Blossoms.*** Big Friendly’s fruit beers are a revelation. This fine-looking beer may be the colour of watermelon, but as the name implies, it’s all about the strawberries: fresh strawberry, strawberry shortcake, and strawberry compote. Cheerfully effervescent, it’s got a sprinkle of black pepper and a subtly tart strawberry acidity for added complexity. A fruit beer that isn’t just another pedestrian fruited sour. For my money, Big Friendly’s fruit beers are as good as New Glarus’s Raspberry Tart or Belgian Red.

Brauerei und Landgasthof Kürzdörfer (Franconia), Dunkel.** Kürzdörfer doesn’t garner as much attention as other breweries along the Bierquellen hiking trail. But the beers served up in this log cabin on the edge of the woods are every bit as good. In fact, Kürzdörfer’s Dunkel has all the cocoa and milk chocolate richness that a beer like Gradl’s well-regarded Leupser Dunkel doesn’t. And then there’s that beguiling hint of smoke from the roast malts. A top-shelf beer.

Wiethaler's Goldstoff Festbier — *Wiethaler’s Goldstoff*

Brauerei Gasthof Wiethaler (Franconia), Goldstoff.** Wiethaler is in Hersbrucker hop country, so it’s no surprise that Hersbrucker’s orange zest and orange blossom notes are on full display in this richly textured Festbier. The beer’s profile furnishes an example of the synergy that emerges from the combination of Hersbrucker hops with lighter malts. Shortbread drizzled with honey and spiked with candied orange peel is the result of that synergy. A touch of warming alcohol makes common cause with the subtle bitterness to keep the beer nice and quaffable.

Castra Ales and Lagers (Slovenia), Dark—Temni Lager.** I wasn’t expecting much in the way of beer when I walked into Klobasarna in Ljubljana to try their Carniolan sausages. Maybe a Laško Zlatorog or a Union, but certainly not a modest selection of Slovenian craft beer. Castra’s simply named “Dark” is in the “rich and chocolatey” vein of Czech-style dark lagers (U Fleků is the reference point here), rather than the leaner and roasty Czech dark lagers à la Bernard. With all that milk chocolate, cocoa, café au lait, rye bread, hazelnuts, and more chocolate, “Dark” gives the best Czech-style dark lagers a run for their money.

Černokostelecký Pivovar (Czech Republic), Černá svině 13º. Tmavý Special.* It was like a total eclipse when I held the glass up to the sun. In that sense and others, Černokostelecký’s “black pig” resembles the Schwarzbiers of Saxony. Roast malts are clear and present in the form of bakers’ chocolate, cocoa nibs, and café au lait. But it’s the more supple malts that sing in this beer, with milk chocolate, mocha, and spiced caramel lending this beer its svelteness. Not quite as velvety as U Fleků, but more quaffable on account of its roasty bitterness.

Dalešické Pivo (Czech Republic), Fledermaus 13º Tmavý.** Almost jet-black, Pivovar Dalešice’s Fledermaus lives up to the nocturnal winged creature it names, making it a fine choice to fuel late-night drinking sessions. It’s one of those beers you could easily call a černé pivo (black beer), what with all those aromas of freshly ground coffee and bakers’ chocolate wrapping themselves around that subtle whiff of smoke. In fact, this tmavý reminded me of the Schwarzbiers of Saxony, but also with a dash of Franconia. Not quite as malty rich as, say, Klosterbräu’s Schwarzbier, but with enough “core strength” to balance the high attenuation.

De Bie Brewery (Belgium), Winter Bie.* This richly textured tipple combines the hallmarks of a Belgian Dark Strong with the suppleness of a Dubbel. Fruit leads, with fragrances and flavours of dried dark cherries, ripe banana, and something resembling the grape whistle candy I used to get as a kid. Not to be outdone, the malts contribute autumn honey, figs, Spanish chocolate cake, and candied plums dipped in liqueur and coated in chocolate. Meanwhile, spice aromas of coriander, cloves, nutmeg, and anise bring the Christmas cheer.

2024 De Molen (Netherlands), Balcones & Whisky.*** Unlike so many massive stouts in North America, De Molen’s imperial stouts are a master class in how to make a big beer that doesn’t taste like flat syrup. De Molen brews with the usual suspects plus sugar and a barrel to create this sipper that drinks like a cross between a barrel-aged stout and a Palo Cortado. The cascade of aromas and flavours is epic. It’s like fine chocolate with rum and hazelnuts. It’s also like chocolate chip cookie dough, ganache, and Spanish chocolate cake. There’s plenty of fruit as well: dried dark cherry, a hint of raspberry, and dried strawberries dipped in chocolate. And then there’s the mid-section that holds it all together: a drizzling of caramel and treacle, Schwarzbrot (German-style black bread), and dreamy bourbon vanilla. A tour de force.

Gouden Carolus (Brouwerij Het Anker, Belgium), Whisky Infused.* What struck me about this mahogany-chestnut beer is its fragrant brightness. Fruit notes in a beer this big typically come across as dried fruit. Not here. Fresh cherry, Bosc pear, and ripe banana set the stage, spiced up by clove and nutmeg. White pepper, cardamom, and sassafras add an intriguing layer to the malt palette of sugar loaf, dates, hazelnuts, and milk chocolate. A beguiling beer made all the smoother with the addition of wheat, with just enough hops to counter the malt.

Green Gold (Slovenia), Hopz 2025 Wet Hop NEIPA.** “Try this!” said Marko Kolarič, owner of the excellent Kavarna Bodi taproom in Ptuj, a small town in northeastern Slovenia. We had a train to catch to Maribor, but Kolarič’s palpable enthusiasm for this beer he had just tapped convinced us to give it a go. Glad we did! Given that Green Gold brews amid the hop fields of Slovenia’s premier hop region, it makes perfect sense that they’d brew a wet-hopped beer. Green Gold packs this beer with Styrian Fox hops. The happy result is a panoply of aromas ranging from peach, pineapple, and passion fruit to orange blossoms and pine.

Hauskrecht (Brno), Black Flek 13º.*** It was a misty and blustery December evening when we settled in at Gallery Šenk in Bratislava. Hauskrecht’s rich dark lager was just what we needed to still our chattering teeth. If Pivovar Dalešice’s Fledermaus is in the “lean and roasty” camp, Hauskrecht’s Black Flek is on team “expansive and chocolatey.” Vollkornbrot (German-style dark whole grain bread) is the foundation upon which Hauskrecht confects this paean to everything chocolate: chocolate milk, dark chocolate, cocoa powder, and fine Belgian chocolate. Mocha adds an additional layer of richness to this silky beer, anise spices up the caramel, and subtle bitter-sweet chocolate ensures that this complex beer doesn’t tip over into heaviness.

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Hirter (Austria), Märzen.*** You simply can’t beat the kind of freshness that Hirter gets from the Carinthian barley grown on its doorstep. But there’s more than fresh local barley that makes this beer so elegantly complex. Märzens, even the Austrian variety, generally eschew hop character in favour of maltiness. Not this golden Märzen. Spicy hops ride a wave of honeyed malt and freshly mown hay, with a twist of citrus and pungent flowers tagging along behind. A hint of spiced stewed peach[1] adds yet another dimension to this creamy yet crisp beer.

Jistota (Prague), Výroční ležák 12º.** One of the house beers[2] at Pivní Jistota in Prague’s Devjice district, this deep golden unfiltered lager tastes like a Helles meets an Export. Fresh hay, acacia honey, and white nougat join with floral hops (rose meets apple blossom), with just enough peppery effervescence and bitterness to hold everything aloft. Finishes clean as a whistle.

Kiesbye (Austria), Wald der Zukunft (Wald Bier series).*** Alex Kiesbye’s whimsical “forest of the future” looks like an autumn sunset in the woods. Soothing, these plunges into the forest. But then comes the curious ingredient list. Brewed with extract from Douglas fir bark, fir needles, beech leaves, acorns, and larch flowers, it all sounds like a homebrewer’s gruit gone awry. Yet it works. In fact, the beer’s a clinic on how to capture the essence of the forest. There’s pine needle, but not like the pine notes from Cascade hops. There’s also a subtle scent of larch flowers (which I’ve never smelled, but are said to mingle citrus and resin in their aroma). A malt bedrock of autumn honey, white nougat, beeswax, and Leibniz biscuit undergirds it all, accented by spiced marmalade. Perfect harmony. The epitome of refinement, of power in restraint.

Kyoto Brewing Company (Japan), Shingyoso no So.* Double dry-hopped with Mosaic, this silky Imperial Wheat IPA delivers refreshing pineapple, passion fruit, mango, and honeydew melon with a twist of tangerine zest pepperiness. What I like best about this beer? There’s a hint of residual honeyed sweetness balanced by a smooth bitterness — with no hop burn!

The old Yoshida liquor shop in Tokyo's Ueno district — *Not in Kyoto, but very well could be. The old Yoshida liquor shop in Tokyo’s Ueno district*

Nordbräu (Ingolstadt, Germany), Ingolstadt Eisbock.* This ruby-hued copper beer is a real looker. It’s also richly malty. You’d think that all that Schwarzbrot (German-style black bread), honeyed figs, Black Forest cherry cake, caramel, and toasted toffee would yield a beer that’s too rich to sip. Au contraire! The warming alcohol cuts through the malt, leaving a dangerously drinkable beer that tastes like rum-soaked black cherries, Lebkuchen, and candied plums covered in chocolate.

Pivovarská Nalévárna (Pivovar Hostomice, Czech Republic), Fabian 14º Tmavý.** I drank this beer well into a session at Hostomická Nalévárna with a few friends. The notes I had the presence of mind to scrawl down amount to the following: “Chocolate, coffee, mocha, rich. Dry/off-dry w/ a subtle coffee-like bitterness. Divine!!”

Pivovarský Klub Benedict (Prague), Oatmeal Stout.** Svelte and silky with plenty of chocolate, cocoa, and caramel, this ebony beer reminds me of U Fleků’s dark lager. Then there’s the typically “stout” notes of prune, licorice, and freshly ground coffee. Beyond that, it’s full bodied and creamy, with a touch of cocoa-dusted chocolate truffles, rye bread, and a subtle café au lait bitterness to close out.

Roppelts (Franconia), Heller Bock.** The rains stopped, the skies parted, and rays of gentle sunshine descended as we got off the bus in front of Roppelts Gasthaus. Within a few minutes we were in the woods where Roppelt’s Bockbier tapping was in full swing. A brass band played in the Bierkeller’s makeshift wooden beer hall. Outside, the staff was serving the majestic liquid gold that fueled the festivities. At 7.5% ABV, it’s a hefty one. Marzipan, almonds, and honey drizzled over toast form the tableau for fine brush strokes of spicy hops and peppery orange zest. Rich, round, and balanced by a subtle but distinct bitterness.

Schlenkerla (Bamberg), à la Grodziskie.* Schlenkerla’s lemon-yellow Grodziskie featuring oak-smoked wheat malt conjures up images of a campfire at sunset, with smoked ham coated with light brown sugar and orange-apricot marmalade baking inside a covered cast-iron pan. You’d think that this image would suggest a hefty beer, but no. With a mere 2.9% ABV, this light-bodied ale is plenty quaffable, made round by the smoked wheat malt and gossamer carbonation. Generous hopping makes the beer all the more compelling.

*Roppelts Bockbier. Puts a smile on your face.*

Shiga Kogen (Nagano, Japan), 10 x 2. Barrel-aged Bock.*** The cozy second-floor pub where I met up with an old friend from Wales specialized in international beer since before craft was a thing. It now offered an impressive roster of Japanese craft beer as well. I have to admit, when I spied the Bock, the “barrel-aged” modifier and the hefty 11% ABV gave me pause. But curiosity got the better of me. My initial assumptions couldn’t have been more wrong. Rich and velvety, this malthead’s dream was a whole lotta toffee, malt balls, treacle, bourbon vanilla, dried figs, chocolate and cocoa powder — you get the picture. The kind of beer F.D. Hofer loves.

St. Peter’s (Suffolk, England), Winter Ale.* Deeply hued ruby-mahogany, St. Peter’s Winter Ale evokes snowy days at dusk. It also evokes Christmas cake. Savoury rye bread, Ovaltine, and burnt caramel. Prunes and a molasses earthiness. Dried currants and blackberry jam over toast. Rum-raisin and sassafras. It’s surprisingly deft on the palate for such a dusky beer, its breadcrust-like bitterness enough to counter the malt.

Van Steenberge (Belgium), Fourchette.** Opalescent yellow-gold, it’s as if this beer brewed with wheat, rice, sugar and spices is glowing in the glass. And those fragrances! It smells like a Belgian Golden Strong meets a Witbier meets a Tripel, with a potpourri of spices and yeast aromatics you’d expect in all three. There’s coriander and orange zest. There’s chamomile, grains of paradise, and that “bubblegum” Belgian yeast signature. If the aromatics are amped up to eleven, the honeyed sweetness and spicy white chocolate add a note of refinement. Like a good curry, the wizardry in the brewhouse yields a beer that is far greater than the sum of its parts.

Veldensteiner (Franconia), Dunkles Landbier.* A sprinkle of smoked malt, subtle but clear, puts its stamp on this mahogany-copper beer reminiscent of Schwartz’s Deli in Montreal. It also smells of the woods, with anise and roasted nuts accenting milk chocolate and spiced cocoa powder. Taut and focused with a peppery prickle, there’s still enough caramel malt at its core to keep the beer robust. Proof-positive that larger regional breweries like Kaiser-Bräu in Neuhaus an der Pegnitz can brew tasty beers.

Bonus Track: The Big Friendly’s Lazy Leaves Märzen

If you missed the post I wrote in November 2025, the folks at The Big Friendly in OKC were kind enough to include me as a collaborator on their Lazy Leaves Märzen. I’m adding it here because it’s a mighty fine beer, one that reminds me of a cross between Rothaus’s golden Märzen and a lighter-hued Vienna Lager à la Ottakringer.

Lazy Leaves is the colour of Aladdin’s lamp, with dense ivory foam rising out of it like a genie dispensing intoxicating goodness. Subtle hops lead by half a step, followed by lightly toasty malt notes of shortbread, honey, and Christmas cookies. The Hersbrucker hops lend the beer a pepperiness akin to freshly grated tangerine zest while also contributing a suggestion of herbs reminiscent of basil. Accentuated by a smooth background bitterness, it’s the kind of crisp and refreshing beer that makes it difficult to put the genie back in the bottle.