Today’s the day. The Copper State biergarten is up and running…finally. It has been a long time in coming, and it has gone through many iterations; now, watching it come to life, I kind of feel like singing, in German of course. But before I break out in a one-woman chorus of Sie Leben Hoch, it occurs to me that I might need to explain a few things.
First of all, at the risk of stating the obvious and offending our intuitive patrons, “biergarten” is simply German for “beer garden.” (Side note: I do believe that Mary Mary might not have been quite so contrary had fermented beverages been involved in her garden growing.)
Secondly, why have we gone through so much to build it, and why build it at all when we have such a great indoor space? Well, the answer to that is one awesome German word: gemutlichkeit. Rolls off the tongue, while calling forward a bit of phlegm from the back of the throat for good measure.
Gemutlichkeit! As is often the case, we don’t have a good English equivalent for this word, but I’ll see if I can explain it. Basically, gemutlichkeit describes a space or state of warmth, friendliness, and good cheer; peace of mind, a sense of belonging, and public festivity are also connotations that aptly describe the atmosphere we’re trying to create out there. A true German biergarten is also often accompanied by music, song, and fellowship among strangers. A true community experience with shared tables and a shared love for good beer.
Remember the mission statement I outlined for you in a recent blog? Here it is again:
Creating experiences. Connecting people. Crafting great beer.
With this mission statement in place, how can we deny you an atmosphere of gemutlichkeit? Nein! Wir können nicht! Prost!