Saturdays at Lommi

One of my must-dos on every Cologne visit is downing a few glasses of Kölsch at the splendid little boozer Lommerzheim, in Deutz on the east side of the Rhine. Like another of my favourite pubs, the Laurieston Bar in Glasgow, nothing much has changed in the fabric of the building for about fifty years. The sign outside advertises Dortmund beer, but inside Kölsch is the only beer on offer. Fortunately, it’s Päffgen, so that is no hardship.

In Cologne itself, the pub is already a cult and you have to know when to turn up if you want a seat, especially at the weekend.

When we arrive at 1620 there are already 60 people waiting for the pub to open at 1630. By the time the doors open the crowd has swollen to 80 or more. Thirty seconds after the doors open, every seat inside is taken. It seems a very efficient way to run a drinking establishment, and the place is, if anything, more popular now than when old Hans Lommerzheim was alive.

In the best Rhineland establishments, the single beer is served by gravity from a keg on the bar. Because there is no choice, the beer pours constantly, never becoming flat or warm. One waiter is dedicated to pouring beer. Clack-clack-clack go the small glasses as he rotates the round tray underneath the tap. The first keg is emptied and rolled away 25 minutes after opening time, replaced by a fresh one. This 25-minute rhythm holds up for at least another two hours.

We have the legendary Kotelett here, an enormous pork chop which is a minimum of an inch and a half thick and often closer to three. Tender and delicious, it’s served with chips just in case you’re not completely sated.

You might have assumed, from experience with over-vented British ale served by gravity, that gravity-tapped beer never has much of a head. Not a bit of it. The Kölsch at Lommerzheim is so saturated with natural CO2 that the beer pours milky at first and soon settles to show a dense, creamy head. I never tire of looking at a freshly poured glass. Sometimes I examine this incredible foam a bit too closely and the waiter asks with a concerned expression if there is something wrong.

You never leave a Cologne pub having drunk only one beer. Even a quick stop sees two or three notches on your beermat. I don’t mind.