Ponte Garibaldi, Rome, Italy.

I was caught off guard when I spotted a handpump in a photo of the Roman pizzeria L’Elementare. Known for Romana-style pizza, L’Elementare has a young, hip vibe. It’s a spot where I wouldn’t be surprised if they had IPA, Italian Pils, etc. from bottles, cans and, kegs. But how the hell did a handpump end up here?

Before this, I only knew one place in Rome that served cask beer from a handpump, or “pompa”. That is the venerable pub Ma Che Siete Venuti a Fà (or, Macchè for short), and it’s right across the street from L’Elementare. Was this proximity a coincidence, or is cask beer a thing in Rome?

I had been researching Rome in preparation for a trip to Italy with just two nights in the Eternal City at the end. And though I’ve been to Italy a few times before (including two visits to Rome), I’ve never even thought of having cask beer there. (Perhaps it’s embarrassing that as a cask enthusiast, I never noticed this before, but in my defense, most prior trips were with extended family where indulgences in local beer scenes were not really feasible.)

However, spotting the handpump at a pizzeria set me off. I did some more digging and found there’s a small cask beer scene in Rome that goes back about twenty years. Though I was once again traveling to Italy with family, this trip was going to have to be different. I needed to explore the beer scene a bit and find out what’s going on.

The bar with two handpumps at L'Elementare, Trastevere. Sadly, they were closed for renovations while I was there. So, this picture is most certainly now dated. Image source: Google Images.

How We Got Here

Manuele Colonna of Macchè points to Birra del Borgo as one of the leading reasons there’s a tradition of birra alla pompa in Italy. The influential brewery was founded in 2005 by Leonardo di Vincenzo, and one of their flagship beers is ReAle, an IPA inspired by cask beer in the UK.

Before this, Colonna opened Macchè in 2001 and started serving cask beer a few years after that. Colonna and di Vincenzo partnered to open Bir & Fud in 2007 across the street from Macchè (where L’Elementare is now located), which also served handpumped cask beer. Though closed for several years now, it was cherished by many and is still frequently mentioned when discussing the Roman beer scene.

The two partnered again in 2009, along with Teo Musso of Baladin, to launch Open Baladin in Rome, though Colonna exited the partnership shortly before opening. Open Baladin has three handpumps.

While Colonna points to di Vincenzo as being instrumental in the initial proliferation of cask beer, he himself has undoubtedly played an influential role with Macchè, Bir & Fud and Be.Re., another Roman establishment he helped open in 2016.

That same year, Treefolk's Whisky & Beer began holding a periodic cask festival called “Londinium”. The event provides a friendly competition between Italian and English brewers.

The original Treefolk’s opened in 2003 and served cask beer over the course of its existence. That location closed 2017, but a new Treefolk’s Public House opened in 2020 and went all in on the British pub format, including 12 handpumps. It has since been the destination for cask beer in Rome.

Flyer for the first Londinium Cask Festival at Treefolk’s in 2016. Image source: Croce di Malto.

Today, from my count, there are at least fifteen locations in Rome serving beer via handpump. And while a number of British breweries send their casks here, there are a several Italian breweries like Hilltop Brewery, Shire Brewing, and Linfa Brewery that are regularly cranking out casks for the pubs.

Beyond Rome, you can find handpumps in most Italian cities at establishments with an interest in selling anything beyond the standard Peroni or Moretti. Even in Sicily. However, I suspect most of these are serving kegged beer hooked up to a handpump (i.e., they’re not serving cask conditioned beer). To my knowledge, I didn’t have any of that on this trip.

In England, pouring kegged beer through a handpump is controversial, and I get why. Cask beer is finicky and requires particular care. However, the art of properly served cask-conditioned beer is a thing of beauty, and the results can be sublime.

A handpump used to indicate that you might be getting something special. While a kegged beer from a handpump might be good, it’s not the same thing, and there’s a need to provide clarity so customers know what they’re buying.

I understand the desire to preserve the practice of serving cask-conditioned beer from a handpump in England. I’m not sure how I feel about serving finished beer from a handpump outside of there. It might not be a bad thing as long as there are no misrepresentations.

Andiamo

I had a warmup in Florence before making my way to Rome that still has me a bit conflicted. Popping into The Joshua Tree Pub, I found Fuller’s London Pride and Smithwick’s on the handpumps. Sparklered. Though I’m generally ambivalent in the sparkler debate, I’m also a traditionalist. Despite knowing other traditionalists would find London Pride through a sparkler to be sacrilege, this pint was divine. Absolutely delicious.

I asked the bartender about the untraditional serving method, and he explained they prefer it with a sparkler and that some English folks come in and have no problem with it (they must be from the north). I still don’t know how I feel about it, but when I told my (southern) British brother-in-law about it shortly afterwards (we were in Italy for his marriage to my sister-in-law), he was not very chuffed.

Regardless, The Joshua Tree was a cool place, and I wish I could’ve stayed longer to explore the menu. The fresh Tipopils was calling me, but I had a train to catch.

Fuller’s London Pride served from a sparklered handpump at The Joshua Tree Pub in Florence, Italy.

Allora, Roma

We hit Rome on the tail end of our trip. Before this, we spent over a week in Tuscany, and though I absolutely love Tuscan wine, I arrived in Rome drained from traveling and ready for some good beer.

On our first afternoon, I squeezed in a one-and-done at Open Baladin with my wife and kids. I grabbed a very good pint of Bitter from one of the three handpumps with some decent lacing in a pretty, etched tumbler.

I asked the bartender if they serve cask-conditioned or kegged beer from their handpumps. He curtly replied, “I don’t know,” and walked away. It seemed rude, but I thought maybe he was going to find out and come back to give me the answer. He didn’t. Va bene, amico mio. Grazie.

His response was consistent with a general attitude my family noticed on the trip. Italians just seemed to not be feeling Americans as much as they did on my prior trips. The only thing I can think that’s changed is Trump being back in office. But if that’s the case, I’m scratching my head, because it’s not like Meloni is all that.

Open Baladin, Rome, Italy.

This made me think my brief stay in Rome was not going to be great for chatting with locals about cask beer. Then I had a completely different experience when I parted ways with the family for a bit and headed to Treefolk’s.

I was warmly welcomed by the bartender and asked him about kegged versus cask-conditioned beer, and he assured me that all their handpumps were pouring the latter. Then he brought me back to the cooler to show me.

Since it was August, only eight of the twelve handpumps were flowing. Just eight. SMH.

I went local and kicked off with Take Five, a Session IPA from the Italian brewery White Dog. It’s not a style I typically gravitate toward, but this was an excellent beer. I could’ve had it all day. It was an ideal, sessionable ale for a late summer afternoon.

Five of the eight running handpumps were occupied by British brewer Wold Top, which was new to me. Though I was intrigued, I couldn’t resist a pint of Thornbridge’s Jaipur for my second and final pint there. It has been a very long time since I’ve had it, and it tasted incredibly fresh. It had its pleasant bitterness along with its beautiful color and great foam/head retention.

Treefolk’s was great. The bartender politely answered all my questions, served me two delicious pints, and I left feeling much better than I did when I left Open Baladin.

Treefolk’s Public House, Rome, Italy.

The next day, after an aggressive morning of sightseeing with the family, we went to Be.Re. + Trapizzino for a bite and a drink. The spot combines a pub with a location for Trapizzino, which makes pizza pockets, essentially. They’re a relatively new Roman street food that takes triangular pieces of pizza dough, opens them up, and stuffs them with a variety of fillings.

I got a kick out of the menu, which initially confused me when my eyes were drawn to the “cask beer” section that consisted of three lagers. Then I realized that section refers to finished beers served directly from a barrel (vom fass, if you like) and not “cask conditioned”. As an American, I’ve been conditioned in our own beer nomenclature. Right next to the cask section were the “handpump” beers.

They had an Extra Pale Ale (EPA) called Tommy Gun from Shire Brewing and a Chocolate Porter from Birra Perugia available when I was there. I opted for the EPA, which was excellent. It was light-bodied, but flavorful. The beer was refreshing, and like the White Dog I had at Treefolk’s, it went down well on a warm summer day.

Like Treefolk’s, the service at Be.Re. was very polite and accommodating of me asking questions and taking pictures. Fantastic beer and stellar pizza pockets are a winning combo. Who knew? But seriously, it’s not shocking to find out that Italian pub grub can be top notch.

Be.Re + Trapizzino in Rome, Italy.

Macchè was the last beer stop of the trip. It’s no surprise that it’s so popular. It’s got a cool vibe and an excellent selection of beer. I particularly love pubs with scattered nooks for people to gather in small groups, and that’s exactly what they have here, in addition to a few tables out on the quaint but bustling Trastevere neighborhood street. Again, polite, accommodating service.

My wife graciously took the kids, and I was able to casually enjoy the space and my final cask beer in Italy. It was a collab from Linfa Brewery and Birrificio Aimara called “Corgi”. The Extra Pale Ale was delicious. Like the other beers mentioned above, they’d likely be good any time of the year, but were hitting perfectly in summer.

I enjoyed my beer at a small table out on the street and savored every bit as I watched the Roman street life on an incredibly pleasant August afternoon. I easily could’ve had a few more beers just sitting there by myself, but the trip was quickly coming to an end, and I needed to pack and get ready to go home.

Buon Viaggio

There are a bunch of other spots in Rome that have handpumps, and I wish I could’ve made it to them all. It’s always a brief whirlwind when I’m in town, and I packed in what I could in less than 48 hours with my wife, kids, and in-laws.

Though brief, I was there long enough to get a taste of the cask beer scene. But is it a thing? A Roman would probably say not really. But as an outsider, though it is small, I found it impressive. I don’t believe there is a single US city that has more handpumps than what Rome has (I know that’s not saying a lot, but still…) And the quality is fantastic. I didn’t have a single bad pint.

While Rome isn’t behind on beer culture trends, its beer revolution came decades after the US. And in the US, handpumps were all over in the years after our revolution. But as a new generation of drinkers started to influence the scene in the US, cask beer disappeared. Perhaps that will happen in Rome (and the rest of Italy) as well.

However, cask beer in the US was always very spotty. Quality varied greatly, and that no doubt helped turn off people to the format. My limited Italian experience showed real skill in brewing and serving cask beer. In August. Perhaps that may help offer a different trajectory and some longevity.

I hope to make it back someday when I can enjoy the city at a more leisurely pace. The beer scene is excellent, with or without cask beer, but I hope the handpumps are still around when I come back. A dopo.

Stocking beer glassware can be a daunting task. With so many options to choose from, it might be tempting to stick with a shaker pint. And while the shaker isn’t as bad as many make it out to be, it really shouldn’t be a major player either at a beer bar or your home bar.

But having a respectable selection of glassware doesn’t need to break the bank or become unmanageable. There are four widely available glass styles that are affordable, cover a wide array of styles, and will satisfy the most discerning beer drinker.

Here they are.

Willi Becher

The Willi Becher is one of the most versatile beer glasses available. Its simple, slender, and slightly curved shape makes it attractive without being ostentatious. The curvature helps it retain foam and carbonation. While it can be used for ales and mixed-fermentation beers, it’s especially well-suited for lagers, particularly given its Germanic origins.

You can also find it in an array of sizes from 10 to 20 ounces. So, there’s flexibility to fit your needs.

Use this glass with Helles, Dunkel, Vienna Lager, Schwarzbier, Märzen, Festbier, Bock, Baltic Porter, Czech Pale, Amber and Dark Lagers, German Rauchbier, and Adjunct Lager. However, you can cross over into ale territory with delicate beers like Kölsch, Altbier and Cream Ale too.

Fun fact: Becher means “cup” in German, and this one was created by a man named Willy Steinmeier. So, Willy Becher = Willy cup.

Tulip Pint

Though often associated with Guinness, the tulip pint glass is not proprietary and is widely used. And for good reasons. Like the Willi Becher, the simple design of the tulip pint has a subtle curvature, creating a better sensory experience than other beer glasses found in the British Isles (e.g., the nonic, dimple mug, and conical (aka shaker)). Its curvature helps enhance aroma and preserve foam better than these other glasses. And though it’s great for British-style beer, it works with others as well.

Generally found in a larger size (16-20 ounces, and don’t @me about a “proper pint”), this glass is best with low to mid strength beers that may include Bitter, Dark Mild, Brown Ale, Porter, Stout, Scottish Ale, Irish Red Ale, Blond Ale, Pale Ale, IPA and Amber Ale.

Stemmed Tulip

This one may be a little pricier than the others, but it is still within reason and is key to a well-rounded glassware selection. The stemmed tulip glass works best with a variety of Belgian beer styles, but it can be used with others. It’s an incredibly versatile glass that will elevate one’s beer drinking experience as it’s a little more dressed up in appearance, giving a more elegant flair than others. This subtly curved glass is ideal from a sensory perspective (you may be picking up on a pattern here by now).

They can be on the larger side, which accommodates a robust amount of foam.

Consider these styles for this glass shape: Dubbel, Tripel, Saison, Biere de Garde, Golden Strong Ale, Strong Dark Ale, Gueuze, Lambic, Wild Ale, Oud Bruin, Flanders Red Ale, and Witbier/Wheat Beer.

(A quick note: stemmed tulips can vary in shape. In particular, some have a much wider bowl than the glass depicted here. Those types of glasses are great, but I feel the narrower version depicted here lends itself better to a greater array of styles.)

Snifter

Sure, it’s occasionally nice when an unknowing bar serves a 12-percent stout in a 20-ounce shaker pint for a fraction of what the beer should cost. But strong, bold beers are properly served in a smaller vessel (holding 8-12 ounces), and a snifter glass is quite often best suited for these beers. A snifter beer glass is essentially a stout version of the stemmed tulip and it’s designed more for sipping rather than chugging. The intense curvature accentuates the aromas and enhances the sensory experience.

This glass is great for: Barleywine, Doppelbock, Double and Triple IPA, and anything “Imperial”.

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Stick with these four, and your glassware game will be simple and stylish, meeting all your needs from Pilsner to Gueuze. And, you won’t have to spend an absurd amount of money to buy them!

(Original glassware images for this post come from the Sahm website.)

With just 25 miles separating Düsseldorf and Cologne along The Rhine, there’s some overlap between their beer cultures. Visit a Brauhaus in either city and their iconic beers – Altbier and Kölsch, respectively – are traditionally served from wooden barrels (vom Fass) by waiters called Köbesse.

These waiters are known for having an attitude, adding a bit of theater to the experience. They circulate through a brewery’s pub with trays of small, cylindrical beer glasses (called “Stangen” or “Stange” if it’s just one) and will replace a customer’s drink as soon as it’s empty – if not sooner. These trays are called Kranz, and the ones used in Cologne are specifically designed with slots to hold each glass.

A Köbine carrying a Gaffel Kranz. Image source: Gaffel.

Altbier and Kölsch are also unusual as they’re ales in a country known for lager. They’re holdovers from a time when lager wasn’t so dominant.

The beers themselves are the most notable difference between the two cultures. Kölsch is pale, light, and refreshing, while Altbier is darker and has a more robust flavor, lending itself well to hearty dishes.

The Glasses

From left to right (all images sourced from the respective brewery): 1. A Köbes fills a Kranz at Brauerei Päffgen. 2. Holding a Stange of Früh Kölsch. 3. A Stange of Uerige Altbier. Notice the notches on the coaster indicating how many beers the customer has had. 4. A toast to Füchschen Alt.

Much more subtle, but still distinctive, the glass used for Altbier is different than the one used for Kölsch. Simply put, they both have a circular, cylindrical shape, leading to the name “Stange”, which means rod or pole, but the Altbier glass is a bit more stout than the slender Kölsch glass. Though both styles can come in various sizes, Kölsch is typically served in a 0.2L glass and Altbier in a 0.25L glass.

Scouring old glassware catalogs, I can’t find any examples of an Altbier glass that was specifically connected to the style or to Düsseldorf. However, there were several examples for Kölsch going back to the 1930s.

Clip from the 1937/38 Ankerglas Bernsdorf catalog depicting two Kölner Stangen. Image source: glas-musterbuch.de

Though there isn’t a lot of readily available details on the history of these glasses, it is clear that both have been part of the beer cultures in these two cities for generations. And it’s hard to imagine anyone would think of using a different glass any time soon. Aside from perhaps the Masskrug at Oktoberfest, the respective Stangen with Altbier and Kölsch are more hand in hand than any other beer style/glass combo in Germany. So, don’t expect to find your beer in a shaker pint or a TeKu on your next trip to Düsseldorf or Cologne. Joking aside, don’t even expect to see it in the versatile and widely used Willi Becher, which is not a bad alterntive if you’re in a pinch.

The Kölsch Convention

In fact, in Cologne, the glass is so entwined with the culture that its use was formally recognized in the 1986 Kölsch Convention – an agreement between the brewers of Cologne that dictates the parameters for what can be called “Kölsch”.

Within the text is the following passage:

The producers of "Kölsch" shall use their best efforts to ensure that "Kölsch" is only served in the so-called "Kölsch-Stange" (Cologne-Stange), as is commonly used for serving "Kölsch."

In the States

Milk Tube in a Kölsch Stange at Human Robot Brewery in Philadelphia, PA. Image source: Human Robot.

Between the two glasses, the Kölsch Stange is more widely used in the States, which corresponds with the greater ubiquity of the beer style. It has also become the vessel of choice for the “milk tube” trend made popular by Human Robot in Philadelphia where wet foam from a Lukr faucet is poured into a Stange and drank like a shot.

But Altbier is a great style that I’d love to see more brewers making. And if they want to live that #properglassware life, Altbier glasses are readily available from reputable companies like Rastal and Sahm to serve those beers.

Choosing one glass over the other isn’t going to greatly impact your sensory experience when drinking Kölsch or Altbier, outside of the visual aspect that traditionalists and beer nerds like me hold dearly. However, that doesn’t mean that we should use the two interchangeably. They certainly don’t in Germany.

Paradise?

Conversations about breweries and gentrification often criticize the breweries and their customers without giving greater recognition to why the businesses establish themselves in certain areas. It’s more of a function of land use regulations called “zoning” and less of a greedy ploy by racist yeast wranglers.

A recent post by Jen Blair (Under the Jenfluence) titled “Gentrification is Sparkling Colonialism: They paved paradise and only made fruited sours” addresses the role breweries play in gentrification. And while the post is well-intended and ultimately offers an array of positive things that can be done, the way it mixes breweries with boutiques and other gentrifying land uses may oversimplify the dynamics of how breweries enter these neighborhoods.

In most communities around the country, breweries are confined to fringe areas where land use laws allow them to operate. Industrial and manufacturing uses are often isolated from the rest of our communities to protect residents from a variety of potentially harmful impacts. You know, bad smells, loud noises, pollution, etc.

And who has historically lived adjacent to these noxious areas? That’s right, low-income people of color. This of course is not happenstance and is a product of institutional racism.

The Evolution of Industrial Land

As industry in the US declined in the last half-century, many industrial areas have been “targeted” for redevelopment. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Something does need to happen to these properties. In addition to being eyesores, at best, they often have unchecked contamination seeping into the surrounding communities.

That doesn’t mean the solution is luxury residential towers, yoga studios, and high-end boutiques, but these areas do need reinvestment.

While it’s true that breweries have been part of some redevelopment initiatives that may also include coffee shops and natural wine bars, as Jen points out, unlike the other uses, breweries have always occupied industrial spaces. It’s not fair to lump them together with the other businesses.

True, the nature of modern breweries, with their cornhole games, sip and paint events, and stroller debates, is much different than it was in past generations. Whereas breweries were once gigantic factories not open to the community, they are now much smaller operations with a public-facing element. They now lure outsiders into previously marginalized communities and that has proven to be harmful in many instances.

Perpetrator or Victim?

The irony is that breweries themselves are often victims of these redevelopment efforts.

To allow for legal redevelopment of former industrial lands, many communities eliminate industrial zoning to allow for pricey apartments and fancy coffee shops. This further restricts opportunities for breweries, making industrial land more competitive for the businesses that remain.

Even when breweries are allowed to remain, rising land values in revitalized neighborhoods can price them out – especially if they rent their space. After all, land zoned for a luxury high-rise is exponentially more valuable than that for a one-story haze factory. So, the breweries become victims of the neighborhood’s success.

That so-called “success” often spills over into adjacent neighborhoods, and I assume that’s the ‘paradise’ referenced in Jen’s subtitle. And I think it’s important to make that distinction of the land that is redeveloped. An abandoned truck depot repurposed as a brewery is different than a block of rowhouses razed for an Orange Theory below a tower of multimillion-dollar condos.

And whereas many other businesses have opportunities to locate elsewhere in the city where the zoning is permissive for them, breweries remain confined to industrial zones.

What can be done?

We need to advocate for policies that preserve affordable space for beer production and provide incentives for taprooms to be located in neighborhoods that are not at risk of being caught in the cycle of gentrification (unless, of course, the business is from people of that community). We also need to allow for small-scale brewing in areas where it has traditionally been prohibited—where it can properly be accommodated.

Beyond that, breweries should partner with local groups, activists, artists, etc., and hire locals to the extent feasible. They should offer their space for community meetings and events. They should also support local businesses in whatever ways they can, including allowing pop-up markets in their taprooms with local vendors. Finally, beer should be used to strengthen communities, not tear them apart.

After a seven-year absence, New York City once again has an establishment bearing a Cask Marque designation. Though many outside of England may not know what that means (there are only fifteen here in the US), I’m…firkin pumped!?!

Cask Marque is a UK-based accreditation program that verifies establishments serving cask beer meet a certain standard. Among other things, they assess beer temperature, appearance, and flavor. Last month, Brooklyn’s Wild East earned its accreditation for the first time.

While accreditation is not required to pull a proper pint, the stamp of approval does indicate to consumers that the business knows what they’re doing when managing and serving real ale (or lager). I could nitpick a little about the program’s standards and methods (and their Cask Ale Week missteps in 2023), but overall, I think it’s a good thing.

Wild East refurbished a beer engine they got from Bradley Gillett, owner of Seneca Lake Brewing Company, and began pulling pints from it in 2023 with an emphasis on traditional British beer styles like ESB and Dark Mild. The engine was originally from a pub in Sussex, England.

Due to space limitations, they fill pins (5.4-gallon casks) for their regular onsite cask service (firkins, which hold 10.8 gallons, are more common in England). However, there’s talk of potentially adding a second handpump.

New York previously had a couple of other recognized places with a Cask Marque like the Jones Wood Foundry, but it has since expired (just a note though, Jones Wood Foundry continues to serve well-poured pints of cask ale nonetheless. This occasionally includes beer from Wild East).

Wild East celebrated the official recognition on May 1st with two special casks (one from the handpump and one bar top cask for gravity pours). Fish and chips were also available, and the night’s playlist was all British music.

I made it just in time to try their ESB, Moderance, before it kicked. For the event, Moderance was cask-conditioned with hyssop.  I also almost kicked the Brown Ale, Digital Dissonance, that was cask-conditioned with applewood and refermented with brown sugar. However, another cask of that was lined up to keep the killer beer flowing through the night.  

When Wild East opened in 2020, there were no Cask Marque locations in the city. In just a few short years, they have established themselves as a widely respected brewery, and their taproom has become one of the best hangs in the city for fans of good beer. With them touting this accreditation, it’s hopeful that others will be inspired to, if not get a Cask Marque, at least start pouring delicious pints of cask beer (sparkler, or not).