The
Oldest Brew and Malt House in the World
Interpreting a Roman Ruin in Regensburg
In 1983, when archaeologists excavated a Roman stone foundation on the outskirts of the Bavarian city of Regens-burg, they had no idea that their discovery would make most of our assumptions about the origins of modern malting and brewing obsolete. Working within the foundation walls, as they had at many Roman sites throughout Germany, they slowly and meticulously unearthed a well, two basins at ground level, and two fire pits all contained within a single workshop. Not being brewers, however, they initially had no idea of the nature, or the significance, of their find for the story of beer in human civilization.
Although much of beer's dawn
is shrouded in obscurity, we do know that beer is as old as civilization
itself. We also know that man has used two fundamentally different ways
of making beer: There is an ancient way that was in use at least until the
birth of Christ and a modern way that has been in use at least since the
Dark Ages.
But
oddly, we have next to no idea about the "when, where, and how"
of that transition except, perhaps, for a few tantalizing clues that are
hidden in an unassuming and mostly ignored archaeological dig in Bavaria,
at the northern-most bend of the river Danube. That site might just might
have played a major part in revolutionizing the art of beer-making.
As
soon as our hunter and gatherer ancestors stepped out of the fog of pre-history
and settled down, they also started to brew. The Sumerians were the first
to do so, some ten thousand years ago, in the flood plains between the rivers
Tigris and Euphrates, in what is present-day Iraq. Independently, the Germanic
and Celtic tribes of central Europe, too, started to brew beer immediately
after they had formed their first rudimentary settlements some three to
four thousand years ago.
All
ancient brews, regardless of geography, have one characteristic in common,
which sets them apart from all modern beers. The early beers were all made
from half-baked, moist loaves of bread crumbled into crocks of water and
fermented spontaneously by airborne yeast. The result would be a murky alcoholic
quaff full of crumbs and floating husks. The advantage of the ancient brewing
method was its simplicity; the disadvantage, the probably questionable taste
of the result.
We
know that central Europeans made their beers this way, because of the discovery,
in 1935, of an amphora-shaped crock of black wheat beer in a Celtic burial
site from the eight century BC near the Bavarian city of Kulmbach. When
unearthed almost three thousand years later, the crock still contained traces
of bread. It now ranks as the oldest evidence of beer-making in Europe.
Nowadays
we make beer very differently. Instead of fermenting grain solids immersed
in water, we first produce a clean extract from grain and then ferment that.
Modern beer-making starts with steeping the raw grain in the malting plant
to hydrate it. The maltster then lets the grain partially germinate. This
activates grain enzymes that convert unfermentable grain starches into fermentable
sugars. Chemically, a similar reaction occurs in the moist baked loaves
of bread, but with much less efficiency. Next, the grain is dried in a kiln
or roasting drum. At this stage it is called malt. The malt can now be stored
and transported without becoming moldy or rotten. For brewing, the malt
is milled and then infused with hot water a step called mashing. This is
fairly similar to making filter coffee and produces a sugar-rich extract
called wort. The brewer then adds flavor to the wort, usually hops, and
boils it to coagulate unwanted proteins and drive off unwanted volatiles.
Finally, yeast ferments the cooled wort into beer.
The
Regensburg archeologists quickly figured out that the site they had discovered
might have been used for beverage production. But which beverage? Wine,
of course, was the first candidate because of the Romans' documented fondness
for the fermented juice from grapes. Yet, on further reflection, it became
obvious that a vintner does not need a well and two fire pits for pressing
grapes and fermenting juice. Finally, the archaeologists determined that
the site was a Roman brewery, built in the year 179 AD and then closed the
case!
Today, the site is neatly preserved, completely enclosed by a locked pavilion, approximately 26 by 43 feet (8 by 13 meters), with glass walls on three sides. Tucked away in a quiet suburban neighborhood, the site is troublesome to find, and according to locals, rarely visited. Those who do visit, can peer through the glass and read interpretive signs explaining the malting and brewing functions of the different elements of the site, as well as information about the history of the excavation.

