Fresh Hop Fever

What makes fresh hop beer so special

Fresh hop beer, known in Germany as Grünhopfenbier, is brewed with undried, just-picked hop cones. Volatile oils are at their highest and most delicate right after harvest, before drying and storage, which means flavour is bright, juicy and intensely herbal. Some describe it as tasting like a field, but in the best possible way.

Think freshly cut grass, blossoms, citrus peel, and a softer, rounder bitterness.

A once-a-year profile, here for a moment and then gone.

Tettnang, where hops grow like stories

Around Lake Constance, hops have been grown since at least the 12th century, while Tettnang’s own hop region really took off in the 19th century.

When harvest arrives in late summer, the bines come down, the air fills with resin and greenery, and the whole region shifts into high gear.

Fresh hops are fragile. They are 80 percent water and 100 percent fussy. And when brewers want to capture that vivid field-green aroma before it fades, they adhere to one simple rule:

Brew near the farm, and do it fast.

We wanted to break the rule, or at least bend it just enough to see if it would hold. Could a van do the job of a cold chain if we treated it like one? We were about to find out.

The mission

A van, a lot of coffee and a dream of brewing our first To Øl Fresh Hop Beer.

Crew:
Mariano, our Lead Brewer, behind the wheel.
Noemi, camera in hand, documenting everything.

Departure:
Saturday at 05.00 from Svinninge.
Around 1.400 kilometres ahead of us.

The early part of the trip was peaceful and incredibly scenic. As we crossed the bridge from Sjælland to Fyn, the sun was rising behind us, casting golden light and dramatic clouds across the sky. It felt like a proper start to a special journey.

But, as road trips go, things weren’t smooth the entire way. We hit heavy traffic in Hamburg that cost us over an hour. Once past that, though, the Autobahn carried us smoothly the rest of the way, and we arrived in Tettnang around 20:10 that evening.

Sunday: Harvest in motion

We arrived at Hopfengut No. 20 Sunday morning.

A place where agriculture stays visible as culture. A working farm, picker hall, museum, brewery and restaurant. Five generations have grown hops here, and today siblings Charlotte and Lukas Locher carry it forward under a motto that fit the mission well: Preserve the old, dare the new.

They’re members, and co-founders, of Gruppe Bio Hopfen, an organic collective, and their ethos shows in the rows, cultivating outstanding organic hops with care, tradition, and a deep respect for the land.

The morning smelled like anticipation.
The bines we’re clipped and hooked on a line that feed them into the picker. Leaves and stems go one way, whole cones go the other. We cracked the cones, rubbed them between our palms and sniffed until our fingertips were sticky, working side-by-side with Lukas and the Hopfengut team. It’s collaborations like these that make brewing feel timeless.

Lukas and Mariano chose two hop varieties at their absolute peak.

Mandarina Bavaria
Bright citrus, orange peel, a little resin.

Callista
Delicate stone fruit, floral tones and a touch of berry sweetness.

After locking in the recipe and enjoying a hearty lunch at the Hopfengut restaurant, we packed the van and hit the road around 4 pm.

The drive back was intense, a full twelve hours through heavy rain and dropping temperatures. It had been around 30 degrees on Saturday, but on the way home it dropped to between 13 and 15 degrees. But the cooler air worked in our favour because it helped preserve the hops in the back of the van.

Fresh hops are living crops. They heat up, create wet/warm pockets and are susceptible to mold, if not cooled or aerated. We stopped roughly every two hours to check on them. We cracked the doors, fluffed the cones, broke up warm pockets and checked the temperature.

Freshness in full bloom

Sunday at 10 AM, cones were clipped, sorted carefully, and sniffed At 01.20 am, just after crossing the border, we gave the hops a final breather.

Thanks to remote brewing tech, Mariano was able to start the boil from his phone as we approached the Danish border.

By the time we rolled into Svinninge at 04.30 in the morning, everything was timed perfectly.

The moment the van stopped, the hops went straight into the brewhouse.

Hot wort met heaps of vivid green cones in the lauter tun. The room smelled like citrus and warm stainless steel.

What came out was a terrible business case with an exceptional taste:

We called it “To Øl Fresh Hop”. Proof that chasing flavour is always worth it.

Fresh hops do not last, but the memory of our adventure does.

We cannot wait to do it again.