I still remember the moment I fell in love with beer.
It wasn’t after drinking my first craft beer, nor after brewing my first one. And it wasn’t one of those moments in a gorgeous locale on a beautiful day, with the sun rippling through the leaves as an oompah band plays in the distance… though we’re getting closer.
Nope, the moment I fell in love with beer was while I was helping my brother-
in-law, Stan, study for the Beer Judge Certification Program exam. Because that’s when I realized that brewing traditions grow and evolve as functions of people in different places, with different ingredients, production considerations, and environmental factors—with people brewing what they want with what they have—and that the result is a wonderful and dizzying array of beer styles.
It’s that spirit that has me so excited to write about Catharina sour—a relatively young style that’s growing, endogenously and indigenously, out of the culture and geography of Brazil. Let’s dive in.
History and Development
The tale of Catharina sour beer is a fascinating one that intertwines tradition with innovation. It’s a relatively recent addition to the global family of acidic beers, fruited or otherwise, first appearing in Brazil only about a decade ago. Yet it’s also a riff on older traditions, as Brazilian craft brewers—many descended from German immigrants themselves—were beginning to explore a wider range of styles.
“I can say that Brazilian brewers are very proud of this style that started around 2015 in the southern Brazilian state of Santa Catarina,” says Veronica Menzel, a native Brazilian and a brewer at BRLO in Berlin. “It was inspired by the German Berliner weisse, but with the addition of fresh fruits, and sometimes … spices, with the aim of encouraging the use of national fruits, which are abundant in the country—just like Brazil’s tropical twist on sour beer.”
This fusion of local flavors with a German style resulted in a beer that was both novel and deeply rooted in its place.
Catharina sour is typically the product of kettle acidification using Lactobacillus bacteria followed by the addition of local fruits, such as mango, papaya, guava, assorted citrus, or other more obscure and localized fruits. By integrating and elevating these indigenous ingredients, the style has a way of capturing Brazil’s rich biodiversity while also appealing to a broader audience eager to experience something distinctly Brazilian.
The style has played a significant role in popularizing “sour” beers in Brazil, finding success via approachable acidity that supports vibrant fruit flavors, meanwhile skillfully blending traditional and more innovative brewing techniques. It’s also gained fame abroad, in 2018 becoming the first Brazilian beer style to be recognized by the BJCP.
A Matter of Style
So just what is the Catharina Sour, and what makes it unique? After all, it’s not as though adding fruit to a Berliner weisse is all that unusual. Yet there are some key differences.
For one thing, it’s stronger. Berliner weisse is one of the weakest beers in the style guidelines, checking in between 2.8 and 3.8 percent ABV. The Catharina sour begins at 4 percent and ranges up to 5.5 percent ABV.
Second, the Catharina’s fruit character shouldn’t come from syrups or extracts, but instead from fresh or processed fruits.
“Back then, they wanted to brew something that wasn’t just another IPA or stout, but something that really spoke to the flavors of Brazil,” Menzel says. “Therefore, what makes Catharina sour stand out is its fruit, and here we’re talking guava, passion fruit, jaboticaba, acerola, and many more. These fruits are everywhere in Brazil but are rare gems in other parts of the world.”
However, when it comes to building a recipe, there are some similarities with Berliner weisse. With the grist, we’re looking for at least one-third wheat malt and up to 50 percent. Yet this is more brewer’s preference than style restriction, and Catharina isn’t constrained by any notional definition of a German wheat beer being “at least” half wheat malt. The balance of the grist is often pilsner malt because this is ultimately meant to be a refreshing beer that one might enjoy on a hot Brazilian afternoon.
To that base, we’re going to (eventually) add the most important element: the fruit. Native Brazilian fruits are the most common, and using juiced or crushed whole fruit adds significant complexity to the finished product. Be careful, however, with citrus and other fruits that add significantly to the overall acidity. The fruit should be the star of the show here: This is a fruit beer first and foremost, and the style guidelines note that “fresh-fruit flavor” should predominate, with complementary lactic sourness. If using more acidic fruit, it could be wise to curb your kettle acidification. Taste and know your ingredients, and let your palate be your guide. We don’t want the acids to get out of hand—these beers should be refreshing and highly drinkable.
For acidification and fermentation, we’re looking at two key players, added at different stages: lactic bacteria and ale yeast. You should be intentional with both. From our Lacto, we want a nice, clean acidity of the kind produced by Lactobacillus plantarum, a popular choice for kettle acidification. Then, we want a straightforwardly clean ale yeast—any version of the Chico strain (such as Fermentis SafAle US-05, Wyeast 1056 American Ale, or White Labs WLP001 California Ale) will do nicely. And, for what it’s worth, I’ve had great results with the light, bright fruitiness that sometimes creeps out of US-05.
Finally, hops: Sure, we’ll add some, but there should be little to no perceptible bitterness—the guidelines recommend just two to eight IBUs. Just about any hops will do, then, but I recommend a nice German variety such as Hallertauer Mittelfrüh for two reasons. First, it’s a low-alpha variety, which means it’s easier to avoid going over your IBU target. Second, in the event some hop flavor survives into the finished beer, it’ll be light and complementary, supporting the overall profile. Better safe than sorry.
Production Considerations
A great Catharina sour is not a simple beer to produce, despite appearances. Here I’m recommending some steps to take—and while not every step is necessary, each has the potential to get your beer closer to the fullest expression of the style.
Starting with the mash, let’s remember: This is a wheat beer, so adding some rice hulls can help you to avoid a stuck mash. Your mileage may vary, and you might prefer a lower percentage of wheat in your grist, so you might get away with leaving out the rice hulls … but given the ease and cheapness of adding them, and the inversely proportional annoyance of a stuck or slow mash, I’d say just throw ’em in.
Second, even if it’s not in your standard process, you may want to consider a step mash here. Wheat-heavy mashes produce a lot of proteins in the wort, so a 20- to 30-minute protein rest at about 125°F (52°C), followed by the usual beta and alpha amylase rests, can go a long way toward producing a light-bodied, smooth-drinking beer. If you’re not set up for that, a longer-than-usual single-infusion mash—say, 75 to 90 minutes—at 152°F (67°C) can promote the same kind of finish.
Next, we move on to acidification. This is one of the great “keep it simple” tools of the modern brewer, and I’m always stunned that more people don’t use it. Kettle-souring is a fantastic technique for brewing a tart, tangy, refreshing beer without the long aging process typical of mixed-culture beers.
My friend John Stemler, brewer at Pagoda City in Reading, Pennsylvania, sums up the process: “Boil first, then cool to ideal Lacto temperature. I use plantarum, so 100°F [38°C], and keep it moving slowly with a constant CO2 blanket. Set the jackets and come back in the morning. Confirm complete, and then boil to pasteurize.”
The bacteria typically work their magic within 24 to 48 hours. We could get into pH readings, but “how much sourness” is a matter of taste—literally. Sample it, and when you reach the desired level of perceptible acidity, shut it down with a quick boil to arrest the acidification. Then it’s time to chill, aerate, and pitch your ale yeast.
On to the fruit, where the Catharina sour really gets its trademark flavors. While some fruit beers benefit from their “plant matter” flavors—a strawberry wheat with a touch of leafy-green background is lovely!—here we’re looking for something cleaner and brighter. Think juiced and/or frozen then crushed—if you have a juicer handy, leaving all that pulp and plant matter behind offers a huge boost in “fruity” character and might also result in a clearer, prettier beer.
Stemler recommends adding the fruit when fermentation is nearly complete, then “re-ferment, crash, and carb. Donezo.”
To finish, we crash and clarify as usual—I like a quick hit of gelatin to polish it up—and package. Carbonation should be relatively high, though generally not as “spritzy” as a Berliner weisse—2.5 to 2.75 volumes of CO2 should be just about right.
Catharina Who?
What Catharina sour adds to our portfolio is a beer with a little more oomph than Berliner weisse, and with a bigger, cleaner fruit character than we’d get from a syrup shot and complementary acidity. We also get an authentic beer style that grew out of its unique place and time, and identifying some fresh, delicious, colorful, and possibly unusual fruits—whether local to Brazil or your area—can be part of the fun.
Also fun: when people who try your beers start asking who Catharina is and how she came up with this standout fruit beer. And maybe they, too, will fall in love with the idea of beer as an expression of human creativity around the world. Saúde e obrigado!
