July 21, 2026

Twenty-Five Beers for Your 2026 Summer Travels

~Another Round of So Many Beers, So Little Time~

Now that travel season is in full swing, chances are you’re looking for some new beers to try. And it just so happens I’ve got you covered with another tranche of twenty-five beers to seek out this summer and autumn. Read it in one go, or bookmark it for later so you can return to it while you’re in the thick of your travels.

Pair this list with my Twenty-Six Beers for 2026 from earlier this year, then add it to the two I roundups I wrote in 2025 (a winter list of 50 beers and a summer list of 25 beers) and the one I compiled in 2024. Total that all up, and that’s a cool 150 beers for your beer hunting excursions.

View of Lake Bled in Slovenia with church, castle, Alps — *Lake Bled, a day trip from Ljubljana. Call in at Gostilna Pri Planincu for a fine tavern experience*

Travel and Top-Notch Beers

You’ll see my travels from the previous year reflected in the beers I’m sharing with you here. Japan notched a few beers on this list, should you find yourself in the Land of the Rising Sun. The indie beer scene there still has that sense of vibrancy that has long since faded in North America. You’ll also find plenty of beers from the Czech Republic. I hadn’t visited in several years, but made up for that with four visits last fall. Slovakia and Slovenia make cameos as well.

A few years back I wrote about my decision to do away with awarding one to three tankards to notable beers. The system is gone but not forgotten. In a nod to the past, I’ll signal with one, two, or three asterisks respectively how many tankards a beer got.

Here’s to finding some of these beers in the wild!

Lanterns in front of an Ebisu izakaya, Tokyo — *Ebisu izakya vibes, Tokyo (not far from Yebisu beer hall)*

Twenty-Five More Beers Worth Your Time in 2026

*Listed in alphabetical order

2023 Big Friendly (OKC), Oblique and Bent.*** The colour of sunshine, Big Friendly’s petite saison packs complexity in spades. Tropical Brett notes of pineapple and mango mingle with French apple cider and white pepper, making way for peach with a drizzling of honey. Floral notes build as the beer opens up, an intriguing a mélange of jasmine, pear blossom, and linden. Bergamot and green tea deliver on the fragrant downpayment. Not a note out of place. And all that flavour in a 4.3% ABV package. We need more of these kinds of beers!

Black Tide Brewing (Japan), Foggy Saké Lager.* You’d be forgiven for thinking that this beer’s name is just a fancy way for a brewery to bring a rice lager to market, but it’s not. The grapefruit zest, passion fruit, guava, tangerine, and subtle fir needle notes have more in common with American IPAs of various stripes than with rice lagers. Even then, this isn’t merely a clean “lager version” of a pale ale. Wheat in the grain bill contributes roundness, while the effervescence and the honeydew melon notes reminiscent of saké add a cheerful note perfectly suited to summers on the beach.

Brauerei Gasthof Wiethaler (Franconia), Landbier Dunkel.** Is it a Dunkel, or is it a Landbier? One sip of this attractive mahogany-copper beer from the hinterlands of the Hersbruck hop region and these semantics no longer matter. The panoply of malt is its own course in semantics, with chapters on German whole-grain bread, almonds coated in caramelized with brown sugar, ganache, and fruity dark chocolate.

Wiethaler’s Dunkel is the kind of beer that manages to be expansive yet focused at the same time—not as rich as some Franconian Dunkels or Czech tmavýs, but tending in that direction. And just as the cascade of malt aromas subsides, there it is, those Hersbrucker hops intertwining with the malt like zesty orange peel wrapped in chocolate.

Lindenhardt Pilsner from Brauerei Kürzdörfer — *Just what the doctor ordered after a 10-k hike from Pegnitz*

Brauerei und Landgasthof Kürzdörfer (Franconia), Lindenhardt Pilsner.*** It was if Kürzdörger’s Pils was answering the golden sunshine of late afternoon as I sipped it on the terrace, the rural tableau of Lindenhardt spread out in front of me. Pure bliss, with aromas of meadows in bloom and honey drizzled over baguette.

Like so many Bavarian Pilsners, this one walks and talks like a spicy Helles, a lush beer with a satisfying finish. As if to prove that Franconians care little for the niceties of style, the beer is on tap in the Gasthof as Kürzdörfer Hell, demonstrating yet again that the boundaries between a Pilsner and a Helles in Franconia are, um, fluid.

Bürgerbräu Hersbruck (Franconia), Hersbrucker Albweizen.** A shining star amid a lineup of otherwise serviceable beers. A unique and well-thought out Weissbier, one in which the signature orange notes of Hersbruck hops really shine. Orange zest and orange blossom brighten up warm spice notes of clove, cinnamon, and a hint of nutmeg. Spiced banana custard and vanilla lend a touch of gravitas. And the shortbread and honeyed malt notes add richness.

Dalešické Pivo (Czechia), Dalešická 11º. *** Pivovar Dalešice was a standout from my recent travels in the Czech Republic. I could easily have added more of their beers to my list, like the bracingly bitter Hořká 12. For a beer with an ABV of only 4.5%, Dalešická 11 is surprisingly custard-like in its richness. Multi-layered aromas and flavours pay tribute to the countryside, with meadows in bloom, fresh cream, and a nod to the apiary. Premiant hops bring the snappy bitterness, while Sládek and Saaz contribute a mélange of peach-like and peppery aromas.

Beers from Pivovar Dalešice — *Like two peas in a pod*

Fujizakura Kogen (Japan), Rauch.* When Japan opened up to the world during the Meiji Restoration, they turned to Germany for zymurgical inspiration. Founded in 1997 on the slopes of Mt. Fuji, Fujizakura Kogen draws on this rich German tradition. Their lineup consists entirely of German-style beers, and they follow current German brewing strictures right down to natural carbonation.

Fittingly, Fujizakura Kogen also brews a Rauchbier, one that could hold its own in Franconia. It’s closer to Spezial than Schlenkerla, more smoky autumn nights than roaring campfires. You’ll find familiar notes of smoked ham and air-dried meat, with maple sap, bacon, and a spicy undercurrent buttressed by Schwarzbrot (black bread).

Hardywood (Virginia), Richmond Lager with Lime.** Cast aside all your judgments about how sacrilegious it is to condition a lager with lime juice and just give yourself over to the fascinating fragrances oddly reminiscent of German Riesling. Hardywood’s lime lager has all those honeyed lime, linden blossom, and papaya notes that characterize Rieslings from the Rheingau and the Mosel, along with a certain silkiness you don’t often find in lighter lagers. The honeyed malt backdrop has an element of pie crust meets shortbread to it, which tamps down the lime’s acidity and lends the beer a soft residual sweetness.

Harvest Moon (Japan), Harvest Stout.* Brewed with Simcoe hops, Harvest Moon’s chestnut-hued stout exhibits the deftness of dry Irish stouts, but with a creaminess that gestures in the direction of export stouts. Packed with tonnes of cocoa, mocha, prune, and bakers’ chocolate flavour, malt takes center stage. As for the Simcoe? It’s a (very) subtle bit player. Keep this on your list for your late-summer/early autumn visits to Japan.

Herrnbräu (Ingolstadt), Altbayrisch Weissbier. You’d think there’d be more breweries in the Bavarian town most closely associated with what we now call the Reinheitsgebot. But only a handful ply their trade today. One is Herrnbräu, which serves its beers from its charming Wirtshaus in the center of the old town. Their Weissbier has all the elegant aromas of banana custard, allspice, and orange zest a wheat beer fan could want, with a generous dollop of honeyed malt and a sprinkling of vanilla thrown in for warmth and depth. Refreshing, even if it’s a bit slim in the mid-section. But hey, it’s summer, and summer calls for Weissbier.

Hitachino Nest (Japan), Cocoa Orange.* If you’ve seen non-macro Japanese beer in North America or Europe, chances are it’s from Kiuchi, a longtime saké brewery that turned its attention to beer in the mid-1990s. Since then, Kiuchi has opened several taprooms in Tokyo, including the Hitachino Brewing Lab Kanda in a historic railway arch, where I drank this delicious Cocoa Orange stout. It’s taut and focused, with subtle and beguiling orange in harmony with chocolate liqueur, cocoa powder, and bakers’ chocolate. Mocha, coffee, and cola join the ensemble later, contributing a background complexity. Fine stuff!

Speciály z Prazdroje (Czechia), Hodovní.** Forget about what we do and don’t know about Polotmavé, a beer style that translates into English as “half-dark.” For our purposes, imagine it’s a blend of two parts Märzen (for malt depth), two parts Vienna Lager (for lean maltiness and peppery hops), and one part Rotbier (for toffee sweetness).

Hodovní makes a statement before you even taste it. It was as if I could already smell the cascade of rich honey, crème brûlée and toffee swirled together with baked apples and Lebkuchen spice. And that malt! Milk caramel and honey over toast, even a suggestion of milk chocolate—all tempered by a crisp, apéritif-like bitterness. A fine beer made all the finer by the surroundings at U Bansethů, the Habsburg-era inn where Jaroslav Hašek once held court. As for the brewery behind Hodovní? It’s affiliated with one of the Czech Republic’s most hallowed breweries, Pilsner Urquell.

U Bansethů, the Habsburg-era inn where Jaroslav Hašek once held court. — *U Bansethů*

Hydration Break!

You’ve reached the halfway point! While you’re here, subscribe to my Beerscapes Newsletter for more on the fascinating world of beer culture, along with travel tips about where to find the best beer experiences in Europe and beyond. If you’re so inclined, you can also buy me a virtual beer to help keep the posts flowing. Cheers!

Pivovar Kamonice nad Lipou (Czechia), Kaminická 10º.** This isn’t the kind of beer that evokes poetic flights of fancy. Rather, it’s a straightforward Pils-style beer, and that’s why I like it. Sládek and Premiant hops contribute subtle pepper and spice, while the malt gives up just enough fresh hay to keep the hops afloat. Chalky minerality and a digestif-like hop bitterness make this an ideal summer quaffer—taut but not spartan, and clean as a whistle. Find this at Pivo & Syn in Brno.

Kláštorný Pivovar (Bratislava), Kláštorný ležiak 11º.* Unfiltered and deep gold, Kláštorný Pivovar’s lively and youthful lager brings the summer sunshine to the shady nooks of this old beerhall in Slovakia’s capital. It’s got that Central European brewpub character (white grapes) and a refreshing breeze of minerality, with a yeasty richness that compliments the honeyed malt and floral-spicy hops. The crisply bitter leanness leaves you wanting more.

Kyoto Brewing Company, Shingyoso no so.** The name of this fragrant wheat IPA draws on Japanese forms of calligraphy and explores how Mosaic works with different ingredients. A remarkable beer, it features a 50/50 split of Golden Promise and wheat malt, Motueka and Southern Cross hops, and the relatively new Pomona yeast strain, which contributes peach and citrus fruit esters.

Shingyoso no so bursts with passion fruit, pineapple, mango, honeydew melon, and stonefruit, all backed by a silky weave of textured malt. It’s smooth and creamy, with a nice tangerine zest spiciness nestled in with the unobtrusive bittering hops. Not a brush stroke out of place. On tap at the understated Ø By Norway Brewing taproom in Shibuya.

Matuška (Czechia), Raptor IPA.** Founded in 2009, Matuška is one of the Czech Republic’s pioneering craft breweries. And their Raptor IPA is the hook on which they hang their hat. Smooth and elegant, with none of that chive or vinyl pungency that plagues so many Stateside IPAs these days, Raptor deftly splits the difference between old-school West Coast IPAs and newer hazies. Mango, passion fruit, caramelized orange zest, marmalade, orange blossom honey, a hint of fir needles—all the A-list stars of the IPA aroma cast are here for this Czech party. On tap at Pivní Přístav, a top Prague spot for Czech indie beer.

Open Air Brewing (Kobe), Berry Belly.* This purple-ruby looker from Japan’s Kansai region features the ethereal aromas of tonka bean, its vanilla and cocoa and subtly smoky spice notes enveloping a blueberry and blackberry core buttressed by a shortbread maltiness. Lactic sourness and floral fragrances accentuate the beer without overpowering its harmoniousness.

Pivovar Albert (Brno), Salina 11º.* This beer named for the trams of Brno splits the difference between a Budvar and a Pilsner Urquell, with a hint of country butter (diacetyl) that characterizes the latter. The telltale scent of Czech hops in all their spice and black pepper glory dominate the aromas, with enough room left over for gusts of rose petal and fresh hay. Lightly honeyed malt and a chalky minerality take center stage on the palate enroute to a refreshing finish.

Hostomická Nalévárna in Prague — *Hostomická Nalévárna, Prague*

Pivovar Hostomice (Czechia), Fabian 12º.** Unfiltered, peppery, and refreshingly effervescent, Fabian delivers sunbaked hay, white nougat, and a hoppy crispness that melds nicely with yeasty notes that recall fermentation cellars and fruity notes of peach and white grapes. A full-flavoured and satisfying Pils-like pale lager. Find it in Nalévárna in Prague.

Reset Brewery (Slovenia), Froggy.** With Amarillo, Citra, and Simcoe to spare, this American-style IPA parties like it’s 2010. Lightly hazy golden-amber with intense pine and grapefruit layered over toasted fir needles, orange zest, lightly toasted bread, Froggy’s an old-school IPA with just the right amount of crystal malt to give the beer an added dimension. Find it at Klobasarna in Ljubljana, where it pairs wonderfully with Kranjska klobasa sausage.

Roughtail (OKC), The Lovers.** The Lovers is one more reason Roughtail has a sterling reputation in Oklahoma for its hoppy beers. Brewed with Peacherine, Nelson Sauvin, and Mega Terps, this is one thickly hazy beer packed with all the intense grapefruit zest, tropical fruit, tangerine pepperiness, papaya and peach a hophead could want. There’s even notes of lemon meringue pie and a hint of vanilla to anchor the hops. Nice complexity, with everything in its right place.

U Fleků (Prague), Flekovské světlé pivo 13º.** Initially brewed for the Feast of St. Wenceslas in 2020, this pale lager probably isn’t what brought you to U Fleků. That’d be their iconic dark lager, which was the only beer on offer for the 177 years preceding 2020. But the winds of change, they’ve been a blowin’.

I roll the dice and order the new kid on the block. It arrives lightly hazy and the colour of the golden hour. And intensely hoppy. Freshly crushed hop cones and pink peppercorns open onto fragrances of fir trees and sunbaked hop fields at harvest, evoking late-summer landscapes. It’s deft on the palate, with a crisp bitterness balancing the subtle malts reminiscent of honey over freshly baked country bread.

Throughway at U Fleků (Prague) — *Throughway at U Fleků*

Veldensteiner (Franconia), Rotbier.* Rotbier is one of those “new-old styles” that’s been getting a lot of play these days. It’s also polarizing, with some renditions a few paces north of cloying. Veldensteiner’s Rotbier is sweet enough, but it’s a restrained sweetness. Lightly hued mahogany with flashes of garnet, it also looks nice in the dim half-light of Gasthof Bauer, a well-appointed Wirtshaus a half-hour down the trainline from the brewery. German-style whole-grain bread, nougat, and toasted toffee lay down the malt foundations, with milk chocolate, hazelnut, and jaggery holding aloft the top notes of gingerbread spice. There’s not a rough edge on this plush beer. And there’s just enough bitterness to blow the whistle on any offside malt sweetness.

Wirtshaus Weiglathal Zum Fichta (Franconia), Weiglathal Dunkles.* Zum Fichta once brewed their own beers. Now the only beer they tap is contract brewed nearby, then open-fermented in their Wirtshaus cellar. The result is an opalescent beer the colour of liquid caramel, one that swirls together all the German dark bread, chocolate milk, hazelnuts, and cocoa that fans of the dark arts crave. Notes of sassafras add a distinct rootbeer spiciness to this rich but quaffable beer, one where the bitterness sneaks up on you. In some ways the bitterness is of a piece with the more well-known Leupser Dunkel a short hike away, but not nearly as austere.

Yebisu (Tokyo), Sorachi 1984.* Ever wondered what Sorachi Ace hops taste like in a beer brewed by the brewery for which the hop was bred? The Yebisu beerhall near Ebisu station in Tokyo is the best place to satisfy your curiosity. Part of Sapporo Breweries, Yebisu brews a super-clean lager that lets the hops shine.

There’s a certain pungency to the hop, a cedar-like aroma that melds well with the lemon grass and tangerine zest notes. On the palate, Sorachi Ace’s woodsy and herbal qualities contribute an aperitif-like bitterness to this crisp beer. The card on the beerhall table lists hinoki, a wood used in onsens throughout Japan, as one of the sensory cues. If you’ve been to an onsen, it’s sense-memory that’ll immediately click. (Yebisu’s 1984 BLACK, which is billed as a milk stout, also features Sorachi Ace hops. In this case the hop’s synergy with the malts brings out a coconut note.)

Bonus Tracks

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention two more stellar beers worth seeking out if you find yourself in Bohemia’s brewing heartlands.

Budweiser’s Budvar 33 Nefiltr,** which is brewed with wheat to the tune of 33% of the grain bill, is a show-stopper and the ultimate summer beer. Find it on tap at places like Masné Krámy in České Budějovice (Budweis).

And Pilsner Urquell’s Nefiltravný lezak?*** This unfiltered and unpasteurized version of PU’s standard beer is, in my opinion, heads and shoulders above what the beer eventually becomes as it makes its way to markets around the world. Find it on tap at Šenk Na Parkánu just down the road from the brewery. One of the best lagers you’ll drink this summer.