As we walked into the Piazza Triluso on the shore of the Tiber, our spirits buoyed by a celebratory bottle of prosecco, the convivial atmosphere was striking. Unlike the sullen faces to be found in touristy districts, here the broad, welcoming smile so typical of Italy prevailed. While you can still find many menus in this area printed in English as well as Italian, the target audience is the student body of the nearby American University, not the tourist hordes of the Colosseum.
The summer crowd was mostly Roman youths enjoying a beautiful Saturday night in their home city. Groups congregated on steps, along railings, and by nearly every other surface that could serve as a seat. Other groups stood about bar entrances on narrow side streets. Italy does not have any open-bottle laws; even out in the piazza many people held cups of mojito or beer.
We headed into this vibrant mass of humanity on a quixotic search for good Italian brews, comfortable surroundings, and good conversation. And sometimes, just sometimes… the gods smile upon you. We immediately happened upon a true beer bar, and a Roman oupost of Italy’s burgeoning craft beer movement: Ma Che Siete Venuti A Fà. The owner, Manuele, allows only beer and the occasional glass of water to be served in his cosy football pub. I think that bears repeating: no food, no snacks, no soda – just beer. Although the air buzzed with melodious Italian and the wood-paneled walls and ceilings cried British pub, the taps were many and eclectic. The proprietor takes great pride in maintaining a dynamic selection of craft beers (of Belgian, American and Italian origin on this night). Beyond the selection, the care taken in pouring and serving the beer was astounding. Manuele demonstrated his passion for beer, customizing the presentation based on the particular flavor profile and mouthfeel of the individual beer. Glasses were selected to suit each style, as was the pouring speed and head size. For instance, he prefers to take up to eight minutes dispensing some types of beers such as Blanche de Namur. This refines the carbonation and leads to an optimized mouth feel and nose. Other beers, such as IPAs, are poured in a rapid two to three minutes to preserve their carbonation’s intensity. He also carefully tailored the size of the head through both pouring technique and a flat blade used to remove excess head from certain fast-pour beers. As his personal bio states, “To ask him a beer without froth is like to tell Bush you have petrol, he suddenly comes to fuck you.”[sic]
We began talking to Manuele about his establishment, and about his Italian beers in particular. Although we had started off the evening with a pint of the powerful American IPA “Hercules” by Great Divide as a reference point, he followed it quickly with a tasting of the Italian IPA, “ReAle Extra” by Del Borgo brewery. The contrast was stark, with the American IPA typically powerful in malt, hops and alcohol: it was a huge beer. The Italian version, while still undeniably an IPA, was far more subtle. It managed to strike a delicate balance between malt sweetness and hop kick. A harbinger of things to come, its promise of perfectly balanced beers was borne out over and over again. Owing to its cask conditioning, it had a delicate and fine mouthfeel that just managed to temper and complement the rather thick and creamy body of the beer. I was amazed at the quality and artistic tuning of this beer’s flavor profile.
Next, we sampled an Italian-brewed Pilsner, “TipoPils” by Birrificio Italiano. The refined balance of the beer shone through, despite the understated flavor. In typical Pilsner style, it was light and refreshing, unencumbered by the darker malts of an IPA. Hints of hops and delicate, cask-conditioned carbonation rounded out an excellent beer. By this point, my preconceived notions of bland, mass-market Italian beer had been thoroughly trashed, but the spectacle had only begun.
