Since it’s still October, we’re going to assume you’re not done Oktoberfest-ing, either because the beer itself is too good to pass up, or the chance for perfectly acceptable, outdoor, daytime binge drinking is too good to pass up. (Hey, either, way, it’s all good. We’re not judging. Unless you drive afterwards. At which point someone will certainly judge. Or if you leave your car in a parking garage in Shirlington overnight and it gets towed. At which point there will be laughing and pointing. Not that that happened, er, to anyone.)

There are still a few organized Oktoberfest events on the calendar, or plenty of time for you to throw your own event. The beer itself is the main attraction of all this revelry, and not the beer’s trusty sidekick: the bratwurst. The Garth Algar to festbier’s Wayne Campbell. With the beer, as always, is the brat—but also like Garth, it can be overlooked, taken for granted, or its nuances ignored. Often the brats serve a purely utilitarian function, stepping in as the needed base layer for the soaking up of beer, rather than being enjoyed for their own delicious qualities. Hence, the idea of a “bratwurst tasting” was born.