Collaboration: Beervana x pFriem Baltic Porter

One of my favorite parts of pFriem’s sponsorship of this blog is our annual beer collaborations. On this New Year’s Eve, what better way to celebrate than with a little beer chat—and what better beer than the lush, complex Baltic Porter you see pFriem Innovation Manager Joe Shubert holding in the picture above?

2025 was an appropriate year for this style as well, because it started out with my post on Baltic porters and why they should be considered not just Poland’s national style, but one of the signature global examples of regional brewing. In that post, I recounted the style’s history and discussed how it is currently one of the most popular beers made in Poland—at both craft and industrial breweries. It is, in short, an awesome style and I never pass up a pint when I find one.

In these collaborations, I act as the research intern and ethnographer, laying out for Josh Pfriem and his team everything I know about a given beer’s history, the way it tastes in its birth country, and whatever brewing information I’ve gleaned along the way. With this collab, we had a little bit more leeway than some years because in Poland, Baltic porters are a template, and as with IPAs in the U.S., breweries can experiment. In the end, we came up with a beer that is both a classic example of the style, and added one element that is a wink to the way Poles are brewing them today.

We’re going to detour for a moment into an interlude with Martyn Cornell’s final book, published after we had begun this project. Had I had access to it, I would have pointed out this section to pFriem, of a more recent historical example. I don’t think they were ever going to use 12 percent caramel malt (our collab uses 1%), but it’s interesting. Below is a passage from p. 158 of one of my holiday gifts this year (Cornell, Porter and Stout: A Complete History):

“Brewing of porter did not restart until 1960. A surviving set of instructions for ‘the production of dark strong beer’ at the brewery from 2003 show it was brewed from 69 percent pale malt, 19 percent Munich malt and 12 percent caramel malt to 9.5 percent ABV, hopped at the beginning and the end of the boil, using Marynka hops, a Polish variety. The beer was fermented at 45°F/7°C, that is, at lager fermentation temperature, and then aged at 36° F / 2° C for at least 75 days.” [Note from JA: Marynka hops are still available today, incidentally, it was an early “high-alpha” variety from 1988, delivering around 7% alpha acid.]

Anyway, back to the pFriem Baltic Porter. As we discussed it, I mentioned that a bunch of current versions include one variant—rye malt or plums, for example—but that the ones I loved had smoked malt. Polish versions commonly didn’t mention it—brewers just tucked in a little smoky complexity that harmonized beautifully with the chocolatey malt flavors and roast. They weren’t smoke beers per se—smokiness was a minor accent.

I suggested we do that in this version, recognizing that despite my friend John Holl’s evangelism, smoked beers are almost* universally shunned. However, if we didn’t mention the smoke and used only a skosh, I wondered if drinkers would appreciate the depth it added without getting turned off. To my delight, they agreed. The result is currently pouring on Czech side-pull faucets at the taprooms.

Even acknowledging my bias, it’s a pretty damn awesome beer. Those expecting a rich, strong brew with a balance of sharp roast notes and a full, velvety mouthfeel will be sated. I prefer a Baltic Porter to a strong stout because the yeast and subsequent lagering make for such a soft landing. Brewers can really pack a lot of intensity into a Baltic porter, knowing that it will all smooth out at the finish. The silkiness of the side-pull tap helps make it even softer, which is great because it’s a big ol’ roasty porter.

But what about that smoked malt? I enjoyed my first glass in Milwaukie with Sally and two friends, and I asked them to tell me if they detected anything unusual. None did. When I finally revealed that it contained a dab of smoked malt, only Sally (she of the superb palate) could even then pick it out. I did notice it, but rather than coming across as overt smoke, it’s more an umami note, a savoriness you pick up mid-palate. Like all my favorite beers, it’s a subtle inclusion that barely whispers, but materially improves the beer. It’s delish, and obviously I think anyone within six or seven hundred miles of pFriem should plan on stopping in for a taste.

Brewing notes. The malt base contains, quoting Joe, “largely a blend of Vienna and Munich malts, some caramel, chocolate and roast malt to build upon flavor and color—and can't forget that smoked malt!” It is, incidentally, the Weyermann beech smoked malt, and just 4%. It has a modest 40 IBUs of hopping, given its heft, of Perle and Saaz. Lagered for at least 2 months. Baltic Porters by strictly-held convention fall into a window of strength between 18 and 22° Plato, and pFriem went down the middle with 19.5, finishing with an 8.5% beer.

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* Almost. I know that for the very rare among us, they are like the finest catnip. I see you.