Warming up Winter With a Mug of Grzaniec

Mulled beer, warmed over a lick of flame, sweetened and spiced is an ancient tradition. Martyn Cornell has detailed charming historical practices in the UK, while visitors to Belgium have have encountered steaming mugs of glühkriek at winter markets. Another, less celebrated example comes from Poland, where that tradition is called grzane piwo or grzaniec—a spiced, honey-sweetened potion crafted to warm on a cold winter day. Given the circumstances of this bleakest of all winters, when drinkers are forced to crouch next to heaters, hunched against the chill, it was a perfect time for Portland’s Threshold Brewing to unveil their version. Like so many seasonal treats, it offers not just nostalgic tastes to put us in a certain mood, but the warmth of tradition. And, having sampled it under the darkening drizzle of a December afternoon, I can confirm it also contains unique warming properties.

How to Say Grzaniec
I’ve seen different pronunciations online, but from Jarek’s mouth it sounded like Gruh-JHAN ee etz. If you want to order it, give that a shot—or say “mulled beer” instead. They’ll know what you mean.

Much of American brewing borrows from European traditions, but Threshold is serving up part of owner/brwwer Jarek Szymanski’s own culture. Born in Central Poland, Jarek moved to the US 17 years ago, and wanted to share this fixture of his winter tradition with Americans. “You get grzaniec for an occasion,” he said, mentioning that it’s especially popular in the mountainous South—though available everywhere. “If people want to hang out outside, they get it to stay warm.”

Jarek and his wife Sara make their grzaniec from a grisette of around 5%, but in Poland regular lagers are common. This struck me as odd at first—I would have expected something heavier, darker, and sweeter. But then Sara started whipping up a batch, and I watched her pour quite a large measure of honey in the pot. That, along with the spices—cinnamon, clove, cardamom, orange peel—tend to overwhelm the base beer, not to mention thicken and sweeten it. I imagine a strong Scottish ale or something similar would be way over the top. The key is a gentle maltiness with low hop bitterness.

We went outside to Threshold’s parking-space street pub to enjoy our piping mugs, and about a half hour later I was able to take their full measure. In its spicy sweetness, grzaniec might come across differently in a warm pub. The flavors are so familiar—pure winter treats. When I was a kid, my mom used to heat sweet apple cider with similar spices. Grzaniec is a more adult version. The beer is drier and less sweet, and Threshold’s offered a wonderfully grainy component to balance the honey and spice.

In the cold, it’s exactly what the body wants. Perhaps our cells understand that the sugar can be converted instantly into heat—whatever the reason, the sweetness is a key part of the experience. Recall that in yesteryear, during the Little Ice Age when mulled beer was in its golden age, humans hadn’t yet perfected indoor heating. Warm, alcoholic beverages helped us get through the winter. There’s a reason they were sweetened—the cold body craves sugar.

Jarek mentioned that he’d like to do more to include Polish culture in Threshold’s beer, and I hope he does. The brewery is located in Montavilla, a neighborhood that will appreciate the personal touch. If you have the chance to stop in, they’ve also released a couple new holiday beers, including a lovely and very Oregonian cranberry tart. We plan to enjoy a bottle of that on Friday.

Today is the solstice, and New Year’s is just ten days away. Typically that means drinkers move on from winter beers, hoping to look forward to the spring. Well, in 2020, winter is going to be long and hard. If we drink out much this winter, it may literally be out—in the cold and damp. I highly encourage you to stop into Threshold for a grzaniec or two if you live in Portland. It gives you an excuse to leave the house, and the mulled beer a reason to enjoy al fresco drinking.