Don’t get me wrong, I love a classic German-style rauchbier—but if I’m at a bar and see a grodziskie, I’m going straight for it. A style that had disappeared before homebrewers and then craft brewers resurrected it, grodziskie (or grätzer, in German) was one of the first beers that really fired my imagination. One fall afternoon, my brother-in-law pulled out a bottle of it as we sat on his back deck, enjoying the cool autumn weather and leaves. I took a sip, looked with widening eyes at the glass, then went back for more. This is a style that any smoked-beer enthusiast should know how to make. It also happens to be pleasantly simple to brew and wonderfully sessionable.
Style: Grodziskie is a low-ABV beer made from oak-smoked wheat. It has a lot of character for such a light beer, including noticeable wheat and hop flavors, ample smoke, and an elevated carbonation level that adds a nice, crisp bite. Given the wheat and carbonation, it should have a dense, long-lasting, bright white head atop a pale body. It should also be quite clear, despite the wheat. The IBUs are modest in absolute terms, yet the bitterness should be firm given the low gravity. Also worth noting: I’ve consumed a fair few of these beers since my first, and I’ve found that they’re not monolithic in color, strength, or level of smoke. What they are, however, is consistently drinkable.
Ingredients: This is a simple grist: oak-smoked wheat malt—as much of it as you want to hit your target gravity. (Style guidelines often top out at 1.032–1.036, but I like mine at 1.040.) Hops are also simple: 25–35 IBUs of Noble hops, which I add at 20 minutes left in the boil. That’s it. Some prefer the more herbal notes of Saaz or Tettnanger, but I like leaning into floral Hallertauer Mittelfrüh, which I find to be a better complement to the smoke and wheat. Finally: Pick your favorite clean ale yeast. Here I go with trusty German Ale.
Now, a note on variations: This is a great session beer for seasonal adaptation. The recipe here is my warm-weather grodziskie—simple, clean, pale. For the “shoulder seasons,” I might sub in a pound (454 grams) of light Munich for a subtle level of rich toast. For winter, I swap out a quarter of the grist for cherrywood-smoked malt for a richer, more assertive smoke character. Everything else stays the same. Voilà: three recipes for the price of one.
Process: The wheat can get sticky, so I include a nice portion of rice hulls in a mash that is otherwise pretty standard. Fermentation should go pretty quickly, but don’t rush it off the yeast: I once had a batch of this with some residual acetaldehyde—it was minimal, but more than enough to wreck the flavor. Let it sit a week to 10 days, then crash and carbonate on the higher side.
Brew this one, especially if you’re new to all-grain. This is one of those beers that’s going to make you look like a better brewer—no need to tell them the recipe is so simple. Impress your friends, confound your enemies. Na zdrowie!