And through the lovely evening that followed, our conversations flowed like butter while my heart secretly wished for the possibility of visiting a microbrewery in town.
The following day, my wish came true. As I walked under an overcast sky with the pitter-patter of rain on the cobbled streets of Córdoba, I made my way to Califa (Calle Juan Valera 3; +34-678/428-330), a favourite for craft beer with locals. The door opened to reveal a bar counter running across its length, and at its tail end, a downward flight of stairs. The remaining space, occupied by a few tall tables and dark wood stools gave a typical European feel to the pub. The colourful writing on the blackboard against the patent black of the company caught my eye. I read the lists to make a choice and promptly stepped into the basement before placing my order. This was where all the goodness brewed.
Lined with ‘Califa’ labelled cartons, the narrow staircase took me to a crowded and busy space. I walked into one of the three rooms, the ‘labelling and bottling’ section, the other two for brewing and storage. From here, beer was either tapped or bottled, depending on its future use. Their master brewer, Curro, gave me a quick preview of how the brew is poured and stored in the kegs. Making my way back to the bar, I felt somewhat confident that I could now make a sound choice.
And so, I picked the Trigo (once again) for the sake of comparison. This one from the tap was far more delicious than Cordobeer’s. Deep yellow, cloudy in texture, and light in consistency, it had a refreshing taste with malty notes. This is the beer, I realised, that you chug clean in no time.
While the IPA has a clear taste of caramel with toffee-like malt—quite contrasted in its appearance and flavour to the Trigo—not one can come as close a contender as the Sultana, which promises a caramelised taste of dark beer whose aftertaste lingers on.
By the time I was done, I was out of Califa grinning and bidding farewell to my newly-made beer friends. Evidently, I had lost track of the dull day outside and a fuzzy beer contentment had taken over. As I packed up my short stay in Córdoba, I was thankful to the streets that led me to its first craft beer and for discovering the glorious Andalusian wheat beer. I knew I would be back soon. And this time, with the summer sun to complement my mug.