Have you ever come across the best place in town on your very first try? I did—just a week ago, in Maribor—and I cannot but share it. After a rather melancholic roam through the streets, I naturally ended up in a local craft brewery (what else would you expect?), missing everyone from Hive Creator Days. Suddenly, I felt at home. BrewPub is precisely the kind of place I’d become a regular if I ever moved to Maribor. Their slogan is “Come for coffee, stay for beer,” but it should be “Come for coffee, enjoy your beer, and stay for the people.” Great drinks alone aren’t enough; the company makes such places special. I’m oddly grateful they close at 3 PM on Sundays—otherwise, I might never have left to catch my bus back to Prague.
Here’s some good news: BrewPub opened last June, and I’m sure their first anniversary party will be quite the event. It’s a bit of a journey from Prague, but I hope
@seckorama can stop by and write another #beersaturday report. And if you’re in Graz or nearby, you should consider the trip—you won’t regret it.
But enough overt advertising. Let me paint the scene: I’d slept only a few hours the night before, walked nearly twenty kilometres since midnight, and dropped onto my favourite nest, the bar stool. Then I realised I’d skipped my usual ritual when entering a new country—I hadn’t learned even the Slovenian basics, like how to order a beer (the most important of them all!) or say “hi” and “thank you.” Thankfully, as another Slavic language, Slovenian wasn’t completely foreign, and besides, the place is run by two Americans—everyone spoke perfect English, regulars included.
Back to the Americans, who opted for making Maribor great instead of boosting America again. The duumvirate is the reason for BrewPub’s unusual combination of roastery and brewery. Chris roasts the coffee; his mate handles the beer brewing. Each is dedicated to his craft, and the result is… Well, worth about 400 words of praising so far.
For
@ninaeatshere, here’s an unofficial snapshot of some coffee art (apologies, Chris!). The jelly wasn’t on the menu, but I was offered a taste anyway.
When I revealed my secret superheroish identity, handed over a #Worldmappin sticker, and explained the project via QR code and map, I was invited up to the first floor. It was otherwise closed—the warm spring day had everyone sitting outside—but that upstairs space is delightfully cosy, complete with a chess table. It took me right back to my student days in Prague, poring over books in way dingier cafés.
Can you imagine this place actually annoyed a neighbour? Apparently so. There was one fellow—think Abe Simpson in his grumpiest, most out-of-realtiy moments, but in his mid-twenties—who kept complaining, calling the police, and generally being a pain in the arse. Fortunately, he moved away just days before my visit, so this tale has a happy ending: Abe Junior is probably shouting at clouds elsewhere now.
One last tip before we delve into beer tasting: toss a frisbee around with the regulars at the riverbank. There's always one by hand at the bar!
Beer
Pripravnik (Apprentice), Pale Ale
I always begin with whatever the staff recommends, and here it was Apprentice. Curiously, Apprentice is the stronger and more distinct of the two Pale Ales. The bitterness is higher, about halfway to an IPA. Mandarin notes dominate the fruit profile, with a trace of grapefruit in the finish. At first sip, you might think it’s a light summer ale, but the beer is deceiving—it has more than 6 % ABV. Still, it’s a genuinely good brew.
Hišnik (Janitor), Pale Ale
What a relief that the flagship isn’t a Pilsner-style lager. Everyone tries to brew one, and only rarely succeeds. Janitor is a beer you can drink after riding a few hundred kilometres on a bike—if you’re Slovenian (seriously, almost everyone in Slovenia is crazy about cycling)—or just when you come for a coffee and decide to stay for a beer. For a pale ale, the bitterness is unusually herbal, leaning into earthy notes, and the citrus acidity comes through only in the finish. It’s a good beer, though not a particularly distinctive one. But precisely because of that, it suits almost everyone.
Janez Brown, English Brown Ale
Janez is the most typical Slovenian first name. One Janez happened to sit next to me while I was tasting his namesake—an avid cyclist, as it turned out (so much for the stereotypes). Janez Brown was the standout beer of the evening ehm, of the early afternoon. Smoothy sweetish, with creamy milk tones emerging from roast chocolate scents. I even noticed hazelnuts in the aftertaste. Just perfect!
*I believe it’s time for @bil.prag to step up to the plate (or glass) and take the #beersaturday challenge! Perhaps with more photos and less text, but still. See the challenge announcement published regularly by @detlev and join us!*
