The sun has already set beyond the Rhein and an evening mist weighs upon the air as you move beyond the castle tower and across the brick square to the old town, where you are guided by a secret so compelling that the images of this captivating copper ale occupy your mind until you take your seat in the ancient pub and are immediately served a tall glass of this intriguing, mysterious brew. For in this glass, where the diminutive bubbles effervesce to a creamy, off-white head, you behold a beverage so utterly brimming with complexity, which unravels upon your tongue with rich, crisp maltiness and dauntless noble hops, that your first sip is an epiphany, and now you have been anointed into this secret society. But this revelation is now your burden. Keep the secret safe.
(Confidential beer lesson: On the third Tuesdays of January and October, brewpubs in Dusseldorf’s old town, called the Altstadt, release their secret, darker and richer versions of altbier called sticke alt (pronounced "shtick-uh ullt”). Of course, we could tell you more, but then we’d have to kill you.)