I love how science and art come together in the brewing of beer. You need to have your technique down and your calculations correct in order to make great beer. You, also, need creativity to pair together the right flavors and aromas to make a beer transcendent. But just like “right-brained” and “left-brained” people, we all favor one or the other. There must be a dominant side, right?
Which way do you lean? Are you an engineer or an artist?
I wandered across this idea when I recently took a tour of the Deschutes Brewery in Bend, Oregon. The tour was fantastic, and I have nothing but good things to say about them, their process, and their beers. Breweries the size of a Deschutes put a lot of money and time into insuring that their beers taste exactly the same from one batch to another, and that all of their customers are getting the same, quality beer. It is a difficult task and certainly an important one. Like many big, craft breweries, they test through sensory training and their own lab. A wildly inconsistent product can be the undoing of any company, in any industry.
Commercial breweries obviously need engineers in order to maintain that sort of consistency. This isn’t to say that an artist can’t thrive in a production brewery, but I’m guessing those brewers need to recharge their artistic batteries with one-off beers and collaborations from time to time.
So, let me oversimplify the engineer and the artist:
The Engineer
The Engineer is the brewer that always hits their numbers. They are always looking for better ways to improve their process. Faster, more efficient, leaner. They want to know how everything works. If you turn away, for even a moment, they are taking things apart and putting them back together again. They are forever doodling schematics and looking for the closest whiteboard. They make all of their equipment, and their rig is cooler than anything you could buy. They can take your recipe and make a better beer than you by pure brewing skill. If you ask them a simple question, they will give you a three hour response, and they will become more excited with each passing moment of the description. They take amazing notes, and they can always pinpoint where things went right or awry.
But… they don’t always have the most inspired recipes, if they can write them at all. They often depend on other people to taste and evaluate their concoctions. They can brew astonishing beers, but they can’t describe them in a way that makes you actually want to drink them. Wild yeast and sour beers freak them out. (There are too many variables. Too much that is out of their control.) They are not patient. They make all of their equipment, and it can look like some Frankenstein’s monster shit. They don’t understand that beers can be technically perfect and still suck. They make the same beers over, and over, and over. And give them version numbers.
The Artist
The Artist is always coming up with great ideas. Although they occasionally strike out, they generally blow you away with their beers and their illogical flavor and aroma combinations. They make brewing look easy. Like a zen art. They don’t become obsessed with perfection. They are infinitely patient and can age beers to perfection. They love the mystery and they have the parenting skills to brew wonderful wild and sour beers. They get the big picture of beer. Its place in history, and the greatness it can inspire.
But…despite making wonderful brews, they always hate their own creations. They can never make the beer that they dreamed up in their head. Their brewing process is a zen art, and learning how to brew from them, or replicating their methods, is impossible. They get bored easily and can burn out. Good luck trying to get them to make the same beer twice. They can be horrible collaborators, always want their way, and refuse to compromise. They put more time and effort into naming the beer and creating the label they made for the bottles, than the recipe and the actual brewday. They take terrible notes, if they even take notes at all. You will never get a recipe from them that makes any sense whatsoever. All of their beer has a certain house flavor that you are going to either love or hate.
What now?
Well, you probably don’t match either of those descriptions exactly. We are all far more complex than an overly simple Myers-Briggs, but one of them sounds a little more like you than the other.
Do you try to consciously change your methods and tendencies in order to become more centered? Do you try to surround yourself with people who are your antipodes and, therefore, would be complimentary? Do you just stick with your strengths (and weaknesses) and carry on with a slightly better understanding of yourself?
At the end of each year (2009 and 2010), I go through the stats of my homebrewing adventures and try to identify some trends and larger takeaways. I brew a modest amount of beer each year, and usually set a goal of making 60 gallons, which only equates to brewing a 5 gallon batch each month. That goal, many years ago, was bold and reaching. Nowadays, it is a pretty low bar, but it keeps me on track.
Looking back at 2011, four trends define that brewing year: hiatuses, organic beers, the lack of sours, and some competition success.
The Hiatus(es)
I go in waves with homebrewing. If it was my job, I’d be happy to brew, cellar, or package every day. But as a hobby that needs to be squeezed into the cracks and spaces between family, work and daily life, there have to be breaks. I took three hiatuses this year and did not brew at all during the months of March, August, October and November.
I do not know if that model is more beneficial to my overall zeal for the hobby, or if I’m better off keeping to a steady schedule. I know that feel a bit more excited about a brewday after some time off, but I also feel sloppy and out of practice when I do brew, as well.
Organic Beers
Organic beers just kinda happened this year. After planning to experiment with Rakau hops, which were organic, I decided to go ahead and make that entire beer organic. Then, I was in the Bison/New Brew Thursday competition, which required that I brew an organic beer, too. And then, in retrospect, my cider, perry, and mead were organic creations, as well.
I’m repeating myself here, but I couldn’t detect the difference between a normal and an organic beer. The bottom line with organic, from a creative perspective, is that you reduce the number of ingredients you can work with to make a beer. I like the idea of organic brews but, for the foreseeable future, that will always be secondary to my desire to use the exact hops, malts and other ingredients I want to use to make the beer that I want to drink.
But my awareness has changed and I no longer think, if I ever did, that organic beers are inferior. And that is something in and of itself.
Sours
This one actually surprised me and freaked me out a little. Although I bottled, added dregs to, and won medals for sours, I only brewed 5 gallons of sour beer last year. Since it can literally take years for a sour ale to fully develop and become drinkable, this was huge hit to my pipeline.
Although I still have plenty of bottles of my fruit lambics and a few of my Flanders Reds, I quickly realized that the weekly work of maintaining brett and sour beers was important, and they can make you forget that you having nothing in the pipeline.
After that epiphany, I immediately brewed a Berliner weisse that I hope might be turning the corner by the time the weather gets warm. But I’m screwed for sours for most of 2012. Perhaps that is a mark against the hiatus model, which would have had me, at least, making filler beers in the in-between months.
Crap.
Competitions
This was a good year for me for BJCP and other competitions.
My goal for 2010 was to try to get a beer into the final round of the National Homebrew, and I squeaked in a beer and a cider. For 2011, I was hoping that I could get a beer or two into the final round again, and perhaps get one of those to medal.
Fortunately, I had three beers make it to the final round of the NHC: my “Tobias Fünke” Flanders red, my “Fargin Eishole” eisbock, and “Slow Motion Walter, Fire Engine Guy”, which was an oak-agerd, smoked Baltic porter.
I thought my flanders red, which had gotten a 1st place ribbon in the first round of the NHC, had a good chance, but it was my eisbock that won a bronze medal in the final round of the National Homebrew Competition. That was amazingly cool, and it proves that anything can happen in the final round.
In other BJCP competitions, I won a Gold, a Silver and a Bronze in the Dominion Cup, and two Gold and two Bronze medals in the CASK competition. Both were poor outings for me, but I’ve got no one to blame for them except the brewer of those beers. Yes, me.
Outside of BCJP competitions, my brett saison won first place in The Bruery’s Batch 300 Contest for French/Belgian ales, but it did not win a the overall competition. And I made it to the final round of the Bison/New Brew Thursday Organic Homebrew Competition, but I did not win that final round.
I also won a qualifying and the final round of the Iron Brewer competition. That was a bunch of fun, and it is always nice to have an excuse to talk shit with HopfenTreader and Simply Beer, as well as drink great and experimental beers.
2012
What will be my big trend for 2012? I’m getting a late start on planning that one out. Obviously brewing a bunch of sours, and I’d like to make a few full-flavored session ales, as well. Short term, I need to look into brewing beers for this year’s National Competition, but I might be dead in the water there, too.
If you are into stats:
Weights and Measures Gallons of Beer: 82 Gallons of Non-Beer: 14 Pounds of Grain: 172 Pounds of Hops: 3.06
Averages Average Batch Size: 5.1 Average ABV: 6.5% Average OG: 1.061 Average FG: 1.012 Average Pounds of Grain per Batch: 12.3 Average Ounces of Hops per Batch: 3.3
It is time for the 2011 Best Albums of the Year and, of course, their beer pairings list. I know you look forward to this every year, lose sleep over my possible choices, and feel lost when your refrigerator is full of beer and your iPod won’t shuffle.
Don’t worry. Daddy’s home.
What are the ground rules? As usual, whatever fits my narrowing attention span. Like the music and beer pairings from 2009 and 2010, the music is whatever got the most spins in my player of choice. They don’t have to be the most groundbreaking and challenging albums of the year, but being so doesn’t automatically exclude them from the list. I really liked PJ Harvey’s Let England Shake but, to begin what is sure to be a slew of mixed metaphors in this post, it didn’t have the drinkability to make the top 10. Bon Iver and the Fleet Foxes didn’t make it either, so get the hate mail machine cranked up now. Honestly, those last two albums just made me sleepy.
In terms of the beer, I try to make the beers something new to me. Either they are brand new to the market, or distribution of them just came to my area, or I had them while traveling. Perhaps I hadn’t had that beer in a long, long time, so I had somehow regained my beer virginity for that brew.
These aren’t in order of greatness or ABV. You’ll notice that my musical tastes skew towards the alternative, and my beer taste is all “craft”. I do listen to other types of music and enjoy them. I do not drink macro brews unless I’m trapped at some formal occasion I can’t chew through my leg to get free.
Without further ado.
1) Elbow –Build a Rocket Boys! and Boulevard’s Tank 7
Elbow is the kind of band may never receive the critical acclaim in the US that they do in Europe, and that is a shame. Build a Rocket Boys! was certainly one of the best produced albums from this year. Sparse in all the right ways, and subtle to the point of suspicion in many of the slower tracks. Garvey’s voice sounds harrowingly close to Peter Gabriel’s in both tone and fragility, and that just endears him to me further.
Jesus is a Rochdale Girl is a soft, watercolor of a song where Garvey sings “Nothing to be proud of and nothing to regret, all of that to make as yet.” Elbow effortlessly captures moments that are deep in emotion, yet simplified in details lost through the passing years.
During a trip up to Chicago and Munster for Dark Lord, I picked up a few bottles of Boulevard’s Tank 7 saison. In retrospect, if I had brought back 20 cases of that beer, it still wouldn’t have been enough. Perfectly balanced and infinitely drinkable. The saison style is hard to nail, and Boulevard has set the bar even higher for American breweries.
The pairing of a perfectly crafted saison and immaculate music seems almost too obvious. Fortunately, it is very easy to get Elbow’s latest, and unfortunately it is very difficult for me to get Boulevard beers. Good luck with that.
Below is the video for Neat Little Rows. For a more patient version of Elbow, (spoiler) go to the bottom of this post to see which one of their songs made it into my singles of the year.
2) Wild Flag – Wild Flag and Lagunitas Sucks Holiday Ale
I’ve missed Sleater-Kinney as much as I expect to. Which is to say, a lot.
After much anticipation, Wild Flag appeared with a huge serving of Sleater-Kinney and equal parts Helium and The Minders in side plates. The result is infinitely catchy and filling. Between Wild Flag and The Dum Dum Girls (which strangely sounded like Chryssy Hynde fronting the Go-Gos), I got a huge dose of grrrrl power and rock this year. And I need more. Wild Flag is brash and empowering, but still comfortable and familiar.
While not revolutionary, and very much in the vein of many of their other beers, this one showed the amazing consistency with which Lagunitas can produce new beers and the sense of playfulness that endears them to beer drinkers around the country.
The ease with which the ladies of Wild Flag can, even after a hiatus, snap off a great album is only rivaled by Lagunitas’ ability to slip another winner into their rotation without missing a beat.
Below is a video for Romance. “We love the sound / the sound is what found us / the sound is the blood between me and you.” Believe it.
3) The Roots – undun and Cigar City’s Big Sound Scotch Ale
The Roots are no strangers to this list, and I blogged recently about a ?uestlove quote that left me wondering whether looking at beer as simply good or bad is something I’ve moved beyond. But coming out with a concept album, influenced by Sufjan Stevens and named after a Guess Who song? Surely this where I get off the Roots train, right?
No, they nailed undun, too. While not as instantly likeable and hooky as How I Got Over, this one seeps into you like the porous thing you are.
In Kool On, Greg Porn raps, “Fuck a genie and three wishes / I just want a bottle, a place to write my novel,” and paints a more complex picture of the anti-hero Redford Stephens and his life as neither hero, nor villain, nor victim. A man too complex and (d)evolving for just one song.
In a random occurrence, I came across a Cigar City Big Sound Scotch Ale and it scratched an itch that I don’t often get. Big, malty beers are usually some of the last that I crave, but they can be amazing in the right situation. The Big Sound was big and sweet in a non-fatiguing way, and impressive in toffee and dark fruit notes. I’d love to see how this ages.
The Roots’ undun is not a hard listen, but it requires some time and thought to fully appreciate. Cigar City’s Big Sound is like that, too. Sit down to both and see how you like them as all three of you warm up.
4) Yuck –Yuck and New Belgium’s Ranger IPA
I find that I’m less impressed by the next, big revolutionary sound as I am by the band that does normal things very well. Yuck came out of nowhere this year with an album that was completely dated and fresh at the same time. In the 90’s, Yuck might have gotten lost in the shuffle, but in 2011 they sound new again. Fuzzy, catchy, and immediate despite a seemingly lackadaisical delivery. They sound like putting down the top of your parent’s convertible and chasing the last bits of summer.
One of the big beer stories in Virginia this year was the arrival of New Belgium. For the lazy and puerile, that meant the coming of Fat Tire. For me, it meant easy access to their Lips of Faith beers. But the surprise was how much I’ve enjoyed New Belgium’s Ranger IPA. In a country rotten with IPAs and hop-bombs, Ranger was perfectly executed and it slipped into my list of no-brainer go-to beers. Assertively bitter and crisp with citrus rind and pine notes.
Sit on your porch and pair a Ranger and Yuck together, and remember how easy things used to be.
5) Fucked Up – David Comes to Life and Founders’ Canadian Breakfast Stout
These albums are in no particular order but, truth be told, Fucked Up’s David Comes to Life might be my favorite of album in the year. That was a hard thing for me to process at first, because Damian’s shouting vocals haven’t always been easy for me to get past. The music is the first hook and it snags you with layers of sound, and that gives his feral vocals time to latch on, as well.
Fucked Up delivered a 78-minute concept album that they were ridiculous to even try delivering. But it works. I’ve seen them live twice and I think it is vital to do so to get an idea of the chaos, but undeniably positive energy that radiates from this group. Who else could make the repetition of “dying on the inside” by a feminine voice on “The Other Shoe” become an anthem? Fucked Up gives you what you need and even if you find them a tough sell, you’ll grudgingly agree that, “We need a Peter, we get a Paul; at least Judas had some balls.”
The Founders Canadian Breakfast Stout was bottled for the first time this year, and it became the belle of the scarcity ball. This imperial stout, brewed with coffee and chocolate, was aged in spent bourbon barrels that recently had been used to age maple syrup. This beer had every right to be ludicrous, over-the-top, and sweetly undrinkable, but it wasn’t. All of the ingredients and aging elements came through with a bittersweet finish. Was it worth the hoops that some people went through get it? I don’t know. I bought it off the shelf and thought it was juuuust right.
When you drag your fingernails across the surface of Founders CBS and Fucked Up’s David, there appears to be a ramshackle nihilism in both, but relax your mind and give them the time to take shape.
6) Kurt Vile – Smoke Ring for My Halo and Three Floyds’ Zombie Dust
I caught Kurt Vile while he was opening for Deerhunter this year, but the full effect of his album, Smoke Ring for my Halo, didn’t sink in until months later. There’s a stoner vibe going through his lyrics that beg to be mumbled and, later, retracted in light of a hungover sunrise. But I haven’t yet.
But there is a dreamy logic to it all, and the simple layering of guitars is instantly engaging. Vile’s music can be brittle and meandering, and that is its charm.
At Dark Lord Day, my group set up camp at a table perhaps a dozen steps from a mobile bar pouring Three Floyd’s Zombie Dust.I honestly cannot tell you how many Dusts I had, but each one tasted as refreshing and wonderful as the last. Big, grassy, citrus notes dominate the beer, and perhaps only 3F would call this one an American pale ale, but it was the perfect beer for that day.
Somethings in life come too easy and we are, frankly, suspicious of them for that reason. Sit down with some Zombie Dust and Kurt Vile, and try to enjoy the rare oasis in the world. No, not the band Oasis. Screw those chumps.
7) The Dodos – No Color and Victory’s Donnybrook
The Dodos’ No Color album dropped in February and it was easy for me to quickly forget about them by the time December rolled around. I instantly loved this disc with it’s hooks, staccato rhythms and Neko Case’s backing vocals (!?!?) on a few of the tracks. It was immediate and insistent, but that can also be exhausting.
But returning to No Color at the end of the year reminded me how easy it is to fall into that melodic persistence again. I have a primal need for music that is manic, quirky, and sparse. Without a new Spoon album in 2011, this one did the trick.
I enjoy stouts and darker beers, but I still tend to avoid them when the temperature is above 60 degrees. It is hard to rationalize, but that is just who I am. So it takes a special stout to have me enjoying one during the heat of summer, and Victory Donnybrook Stout was that. Beer Run, hands-down my favorite local pub, serves it occasionally on nitro and it is glorious. Dark, roasted, with hints of cocoa and only 3.7% ABV. You know this list had to include at least one session beer and the Donnybrook defies any simple definitions.
Telekinesis delivered a strong album of hooks, assisted again by Death Cab for Cutie’s Chris Walla. This was everything that DCfC’s latest, Code and Keys, was not. Ballast Point’s Sculpin is another solid IPA that makes you wonder if that style isn’t overplayed like you first thought. Both reflective, earnest and, worth your money and taste buds.
St. Vincent – Strange Mercy and Avery’s Rumpkin
St. Vincent’s Strange Mercy is another fever dream of an album and it challenges you in ways that you wanted, and in ways that you didn’t think you needed. Every year I loathe the coming of pumpkin beers, but Avery’s Rumpkinmade me re-think that if only for a few minutes. The rum barrel aging of this big beer was genius, and I am curious to see how it ages. Both sensual, lush and quirky.
Mastodon – The Hunter and Fantome’s Saison
Mastodon went out into another universe with their previous album, so I was interested to see where the The Hunter would find them landing. This album is smaller and much more controlled, and that was a welcome adjustment. This isn’t a perfect disc, but no one is making the kind of music that they are right now and they consistently deliver the goods. Fantome disappeared from the shelves for a long time in central Virginia, and I had forgotten how much I enjoyed this Belgian gem. Dry, spicy and perfectly acidic.Enjoy the nostalgia.
Ryan Adam – Ashes & Fire and Bells’ Oarsman
Ryan Adams’ Ashes & Fire was a welcome return, at least for me, to solid musicianship and some consistency. These songs are plaintive and brooding, but you don’t have to be in that mood to enjoy this album. The Bells’ Oarsman is a wheat ale with a underlying note of sourness. A light, American riff on the Berliner weisse style, and perfectly refreshing. Ryan and Bells take you through the melancholy, but they don’t linger and unravel.
SINGLES OF THE YEAR
Lippy Kids – Elbow and Barlow Brewing’s Fargin Eishole
Lippys Kids is equal parts cathartic, somber, epic and wearying. I could gush about this song, but watch the video below and make up your own mind. And, in 2011, my Fargin Eishole eisbock won 3rd place in the National Homebrew Competition. It was a fantastic beer, but it took years to evolve into what it finally became: boozey, deep and, a little bit, epic, too.
Jesus Fever – Kurt Vile and Bells’ Quinannan Falls Special Lager
Jesus Fever is wistful and simple, and I think I’ve listened to this track a billion times. Bells’ Quinannan Falls rolled through town, but only on draft. Beautiful, crisp and floral. There are songs and beers more complex, but do they make you smile?
Lotus Flower – Radiohead and Russian River’s Temptation
I really enjoyed Radiohead’s King of Limbs, but it isn’t an easy album to digest quickly or in one sitting. But Lotus Flower was perfectly restrained and hypnotic. I broke open a bottle of Russian River’s Temptation wild ale for a tasting at the beginning of the year. It was that paradoxical moment that was equal parts the joy of sharing a wonderful beer with friends, and wanting to run from the room with the bottle screaming something about “my precious”. Tart, smooth and vinous. I need this beer and song on an endless repeat.
In another belated blog post, I wanted to circle around and talk about the Iron Brewer Championship Round that I was in at the end of October.
I had won my qualifying round of Batch 2 of Iron Brewer competition, and that let me move on to the Championship round against the other round winners and my dreaded nemesis Hopfentreader.
Ah, yes, if you haven’t already, you should head over to Joseph’s Hopfentreader blog, which is infinitely interesting and inspirational and, also, “Like” his Burlington Beer Company on Facebook, which is a brewery he intends to open in the very near future. I expect amazing things to come out of that new brewery. You know, despite the fact that he is my nemesis. Lex Luthor to my Superman. Tango to my Cash.
As a quick review, Iron Brewer is a fantastic national competition created by Peter Kennedy of Simply Beer. In each round, he outlines three ingredients that need to be used in the beer. You can make any style that you want, and use any ingredients you want, but you must use the necessary three ingredients. I’m the kind of brewer who loves to be creative with my beers and this competition demands that.
To play spoiler, I won the Championship round against some very stiff competition. I’m telling you this because, as a reason to read this post, whether or not I won probably isn’t amazingly interesting. The story of it is how I won the final round.
What is the trick to Iron Brewer? I don’t think there is one. Well, not a simple one.
Start by making a good, technically solid, beer. You are shooting for a faultless beer, but creativity goes a long way in forgiving some fundamental flaws.
Be unusual. Think about the most obvious thing you can make with those ingredients, and then don’t make that. And figure out a way to make all of the ingredients apparent. Yeah, they may not make sense or even work together. You might end up unsuccessful, but everyone in that round is using those same ingredients, so it is a level playing field. Making them apparent is part of the mission, not something you are trying to hide.
For the Championship Round, the three ingredients were Sorachi Ace (a Japanese hop), Weinstephaner (German) yeast, and rye malt. The most logical way to have gone with this round would have been to make a roggenbier, which is a German rye beer that is fermented with that weizen Weinstephaner beer. Roggenbiers are cool and rare, but I couldn’t do the obvious thing and I had made a roggenbier in the previous round.
In the end, I decided to go the opposite direction and make a black rye IPA. I love rye as a grain, with its light spice, bready flavors, and the Sorachi Ace is lemony citrus hop that wanders into hints of light dill. The trick of this one was the yeast. The Weinstephaner strain is a common hefe/weizen yeast, and it strays to banana flavors at normal fermentation temperatures, clove at lower temperatures and bubblegum if you ferment too high. That wasn’t going to make any sense in an IPA, but I intended to ferment it cold to minimize the banana and avoid the possibility of bubblegum, as well.
Rye and Chocolate Rye
My curveball on this one was my choice of rye. At the time of the round, rye malt extract had just become available and I knew Peter included it since it was now an ingredient that could now be used by extract brewers. I had done many batches with rye, but this was a cool opportunity to use chocolate rye, which would be an added dimension of malt and complexity to the beer.
The brew day was pretty straightforward and the rye did not cause any gummy mash problems either, although I did throw in some rice hulls for piece of mind. I pitched a huge starter of the Wyeast 3068 yeast and fermented the batch at 65°. After a week, I dry-hopped the batch with more Sorachi Ace and then bottled it 7 days later.
It ended up something quite complex, despite the hammering away I did with big, late hop additions, and very drinkable. It had a clear lemon character from the Sorachi Ace, and the chocolate rye, and its 250 Lovibond, gave a balanced roast and spice character. Not unlike dark pumpernickel bread.
I was happy with this brew and it barely won against a bunch of other great beers. I think I’ve said this each time, but each Iron Brewer round I’ve participated in has gotten progressively more difficult and competitive. I guess the final bit of advice I’d give you about Iron Brewer is to be a bit lucky, too.
You’re going to need it.
You’ll Shoot Your Rye Out (Black Rye IPA)
Starting Gravity: 1.065 (9/10/11) Final Gravity: 1.016 (9/24/11) Days 6.5% alcohol (by volume) Apparent Attenuation: 74.4% Real Attenuation: 60.9%
Mash (60 minutes ~153º) 12 lb Maris Otter Pale Malt 2-row 3 lb Rye Malt 1.0 lb Munich Malt 1.0 lb Crystal 40L Malt 0.75 oz Chocolate Rye 0.50 oz Roasted Barley
Boil 1.0 oz Magnum Pellet Hops (13.1% AA) (60 min) 1.0 oz Sorachi Ace Pellet Hops (10.9% AA) (10 min) 1.0 oz Simcoe Leaf Hops (14.1% AA) (10 min) 1.0 oz Sorachi Ace Pellet Hops (11.6% AA) (0 min) 0.6 oz Simcoe Leaf Hops (14.1% AA) (0 min) 0.5 oz Amarillo Pellet Hops (8.2% AA) (0 min) 2.0 0z Sorachi Ace Pellet Hops (11.6% AA) (Dry Hop) (9/17/11)
The moral of this story, and I seem to be laying that down at the beginning of my blog posts lately, is that you have to know when to quit when you are ahead. That applies to many things in life, but even more so in brewing.
New Brew ThursdayandBison Brewingjoined forces months ago to hold a homebrew competition. (Yes, this is a very old post that I’m just getting around to posting now. The bulk of this sending and brewing occurred between May and June of 2011.) Winning brewers from the first three rounds would go to a final round where they’d have to brew an original and all organic beer. Those final beers would be judgedbyDaniel Del Grandeof Bison Brewing andDr. Bill Sysak of NBT. The winning brewer from that final round would fly out to Berkeley, CA to make their beer on the Bison system, and it will also be entered into the medal competitions at the GABF, too.
Cut to the chase, I entered myTriple Lindy Belgian tripel, which theNBT guys seemed to like, in the first round and that got me into the final round. I had done one batch of organic beer before, theHaka American wheatbeer, so I knew brewing organic was no different than what I was already doing. There are just less ingredients to choose from. Not as many crayons in the box, so to say.
I had been planning to do my yearly saison, since I always wait until the heat of the summer when it is easy to maintain those saison yeast fermentation temps, so that seemed like a good way to go for the competition. So, I placed my order withSeven Bridges Cooperativeand got to work.
I followed an old recipe that I’ve used several times and been happy with over the years. The only omission was that of my usual few ounces of acidulated malt. I brewed the organic saison up without incident, pitched the yeast, and let the beer begin to ferment.
Then I got to thinking. Yeah, that’s dangerous in any situation, but especially here. I started thinking, “What’s the hook to my beer?” BisonBrewing does a wonderfulHoney Basil ale and even aGingerbread porter. What was special or unexpected about mine?
That’s when I decided to act upon an old idea to use blue agave nectar in a beer. A few of the styles out there are traditionally made with simple sugars. Usually this comes in the form of cane sugar, or candi sugar. The saison style often gets a pound of cane sugar to thin the beer’s body and to help dry out with a low final gravity.Blue agave nectar, a sugar-like sweetener and the base ingredient for tequila, fits that description perfectly.
So at the 48 mark of fermentation, I added 12 ounces of blue agave nectar. When adding the nectar, I noticed that it had a “heavier” aroma than I was expecting. More like a molasses than honey. I was surprised by that but, knowing that it was such a simple sugar, I figured there wouldn’t be much left once it fermented out.
It fermented out very dry and reached a final gravity of 1.001, just above the density of water. I started the fermentation at 76° and let it go (and helped it along with a heating pad) up to 85° degrees Fahrenheit. I’m a fan of trying to ferment beers cool and patiently, but my readings have lead me to agree with some experts who think that saison yeasts are direct descendents of red wine yeast and they like heat and abuse. I’ve probably made saisons as much as any style, and they love to stall and under-attenuate. If you’ve made a healthy yeast starter and added nutrients, then the key is heat and some gentle agitation.
It did not win theBison-NBT competition, as that was won byAndrew Bellfor hisZeal Island Pale Ale. Congrats to him as it sounds like he made a fantastic brew. And thank you to the Bison and the New Brew Thursday crews for putting on a great competition that challenges brewers and celebrates homebrewing. That was amazingly cool.
How was the Blue Agave Organic Saison? It was good, but not amazing. Two things happened with this beer.
1) In my meddling with the recipe late in the game and adding the agave nectar, I did add a lot of extra, highly-fermentable sugars. It had a thinning effect and some of the malt soul of the beer was lost.
2) The saison showed signs of a brett infection about a month later. Now, as far as infections go, this one was a great one. Very similar to the house taste of a Jolly Pumpkin beer, but not what I intended and it caused the bottles to become super carbonated. Not to the point of bottle bombs but close. How did that happen? Either the late addition of the nectar post boil caused a problem (in theory, it shouldn’t have because it is hard for anything to live in a substance that high in sugar), or it picked up a Brett strain from my equipment. The latter is more likely.
All in all, a good beer, but nothing I planned. And, clearly, that was because there wasn’t a lot of thought going on about in this beer after I pitched the yeast. I second thought myself and got a little wild on the back-end. No pun intended.
And to be clear, I not saying that playing with beers after primary is a bad thing. I love splitting batches and adding fruit or oak, and seeing what comes of it all and comparing and contrasting the variants. But fundamental changes in sugar content can be problematic. Think about the beer you made and the effects of new ingredients. It can be wonderful, or it can leave you with something unbalanced.
Saison Tequilana - (Organic Saison) (5.5 gallons)
Starting Gravity: 1.055 (5/30/11) Secondary Gravity: 1.006 (6/4/11) Final Gravity: 1.001 (8/4/11) 66 Days 7.7% alcohol (by volume) Apparent Attenuation: 98.2% Real Attenuation: 80.4%
Primary (start 76º F-> 85º F) White Labs 565, 2 Vials, Starter was made 12 oz Wholesome Sweetners Organic Blue Agave (Agave nectar from Weber Azul) 6/2/11
There may not be any obvious parallels between brewing and music, movies, and other art forms, but if you’re not looking you are missing out on the big picture.
In reading through the latest Spin magazine, I came across a feature with Questlove, from The Roots, as well as a few others doing a Jukebox Jury on the singles of 2011. They went through the biggest and, in this case in particular, the most viral songs of the year. What caught my eye was his takeaway on one of the “worst” songs of the year:
About Rebecca Black’s Friday :
“We played this on Fallon, and I remember the irony of us studying the song like a science. What does she do in the second verse? How does the rap go? Doing that made me realize that I no longer believe in good songs and bad songs. I now only think of songs as effective and noneffective. Even though as a technical singer she’s not “good,” this was one of the most inescapable songs of 2011. What does it say when a bad song is inescapable?…….This song reveals a primitive side of us that we’re afraid that we have.” – Questlove
This, as many things do, had me rearranging my thoughts on brewing. Is there so such thing as a good or bad beer? Is there only effective or ineffective?
Let’s just segment out the beers that have obvious, technical issues. We can’t look at the beers that have unintentionally soured or are rotten with diacetyl. These need to be thrown out the window not unlike a recording session where a guitar string snaps or a microphone breaks. That is bad beer, and not worth talking about.
I’m just as guilty as others of labeling beers good and bad, although never in such black and white terms. But it is easier to apply these labels to beer and move on to the next. We all want to simplify life, but as with any Boolean metric, it doesn’t critique a beer with any depth or insight.
By changing my mental reviewing of a beer to effective or ineffective, I can address the intent of the brewer, my personal tastes, AND the palates of others. Surely this is a more complex method of reviewing a beer, but does it make it harder to come up with a short, definitive answer in the review process? I don’t think it does.
Example Beer #1: Big Freaking Bourbon Barrel Coffee Vanilla Bean Russian Imperial Stout
Brewer: The brewer knows what he wanted to make. Something huge, complex, ready for patience and somewhat absurd. All in equal parts.
Me: I like that sort of beer on occasion, but not everyday and almost never by myself.
Beer Drinker: I think the average beer drinker might be overwhelmed by this beast of a beer, so let’s be honest and address that the beer geek as the one who is really excited and into this huge RIS.
Example #1 – Effective?
Brewer: If the technical pieces are in place, then I we can assume that this is the beer the brewer intended. Unless it is severely under-attenuated and sickly sweet, or they threw too much coffee or too many vanilla beans in the pot and obscured the rest of the beer, hopefully they nailed what they were looking for.
Me: If those issues are kept at bay, I’ll probably find it to be a good beer, although I’ll like it less if there is too much coffee because I’m not a big coffee fan. Again, this is hypothetical.
Beer Drinker: The rest of the beer world? Well, that is select group and they are not your average macro drinkers. They know what they are getting, and they are willing to jump through hoops and pay more money for a beer that is likely to be scarce.
Example #1 – Answer: Yes, that monstrous RIS was effective. It was well made, it was priced and distributed to a limited group that would appreciate it, but it had a little too much coffee flavor for me. So, big picture, it was good and effective.
“None. None more black.”
Example Beer #2: American-Style Light Lager
Brewer: Did the brewer intend to make this beer? Good lord, how do you make this beer on accident? Seriously, you can’t. Corn and rice don’t just fall into the mash on accident. I don’t want to get shitty here, but you only go wrong if it tastes too much of adjuncts, or hops, or doesn’t have a healthy fermentation. These beers are really hard to make and there is a lot of equipment and back-watering that goes into balancing these beers.
Me: This is a “when in Rome” beer for me. I don’t dislike them, per se. They are just nothing that I want to pay money for and I’d rather drink water. If I’m at a party and that’s all there is, I’ve have a few, but not notice that I am having a few since they aren’t really challenging or interesting. Fringe case: I might pay for one or two at a ballpark on a hot day when there aren’t better options.
Beer Drinkers: The average beer drinker (and, no, I have no idea what that really means anymore) is probably into this beer. Unless it is too low in alcohol and they have to drink a million of them to achieve a slight buzz, they are going to enjoy it and its price point.
Example #2 – Effective?
Brewer: This is a hard beer to make and, if the brewer nailed it, he/she should be proud. Pabst and other breweries win medals at GABF every year for this style. That is critical praise.
Me: I don’t want this beer and I don’t want to pay for this beer. Water is free and much better for you. But I do appreciate the skill required to make this beer.
Beer Drinkers: Increasingly less of the US drinkers want this beer as the years go, but they are still the vast, vast majority of the drinking population. The price point is right for them and this is all that they (know that they) want.
Example #2 – Answer: Yes, that thin and highly carbonated beer is a success. The brewer made something difficult, the crowd will drink it, and it wasn’t made for or with me in mind.
“Hey, sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I’d never know ’cause I wouldn’t eat the filthy motherfucker.”
I could bring up many more examples and it would be very easy to come up with examples of what would be an ineffective beer. Those are beers that veered from the brewer’s vision and/or beers that no one wants to drink for a multitude of reasons. This post isn’t about changing minds or working out all the scenarios. I just think that I need to take a more complex and faceted view of beers, and maybe you do, too.
I imagine the best brewers out there steal from the world around them, and not in the physical sense. You can learn from disparate masters and, sometimes, Questlove can give you a different angle on beer.
I know the more primitive side of me is brought out by my love of sours. But that is another post.
I’m horrendously behind on blog posts, so I wanted to get this one out about the wet hop ale that I brewed a few months ago.
The quick background on this is that hops are quickly dried after harvest to reduce their perishability. But they can be taken fresh off the vine and used immediately in a beer. The effect is that the beer will have a very, very fresh hop flavor and aroma. When one of the local homebrew stores extended the offer of wet hops, how could I say no?
So I ordered a pound of Amarillo, and a pound of Citra wet hops. When harvest time came around, they could only get in Amarillo hops, so I ended up getting 2 pounds of that. Having no idea what I wanted to do with them, I figured I could either make a American pale ale, in order to really maximize the effect of the hops, or I could make a malty IPA base in an attempt at a balanced beer. I decided to go with the IPA base but, in the end, that didn’t seem to matter at all.
So I went with my usual IPA base, Maris Otter, which I prefer over American 2-row for this style for a fuller and nuttier malt flavor, and some Munich and crystal malts. I wanted a firm bitterness, too, but I had to do that with pellet hops since the wet hops are only good for late additions to the boil. For that, I used an ounce of 13.1% AA Magnum hops for 60 minutes.
The Amarillo hops finally came in and the volume of hops, which I knew would be absurd, was…absurd. I’ve been growing my own hops for many years, but I’ve never used that much in one batch.
A few of the Amarillo wet hops
Back to the grind
In an attempt try to keep my system from clogging up forever, I put the hops into bags for the boil.
While weighing out the hops, I discovered that I had over 2 pounds of wet hops, so I threw 5 oz in the mash just for giggles. The rest of the hops were broken into two 14 ounce charges. One went in with 10 minutes left in the boil, for flavor, and the other at flame out, for aroma. It sounds like a lot, and it is, but weights are deceiving. It seems to be a given that 5 ounces of wet, and therefore heavier, hops equal an ounce of the dried cones.
The only real concern for me was the amount of wort that I knew the hops would absorb. To counteract that, I started with 8 gallons of 1.053 wort. In the end, that was still too little because after evaporation and absorption, I was only left with 5 gallons in the carboy. My only real screw up of the day was forgetting to put Whirlfloc into the boil, but this beer probably would have been insanely murky no matter what I did.
Check out the crazy oils just floating on the top of this beer.
The wet hop IPA in the glass
I tried to turn this around as quickly as possible since this type of beer diminishes quickly. I let it sit in primary for a little over 2 weeks, although I did cold crash it during the last three days, and then bottled it right out of primary.
How did it turn out? I really like this beer, and I’ve gotten very positive feedback from friends and other brewers about it. But it was nothing at all like I had expected. I knew there would be some grassiness in the beer, but the grass was big and dank. And I knew that hops and marijuana were closely related, but this beer removes all doubt.
My biggest takeaway was that the wet hops just laminated over my malt and bittering hops. The bitterness from the charge of magnum was non-existent, and all the delicious British malt that I put into the beer just disappeared, too. The hop oils took over and dominated the beer. But not in a deeply bitter, and hugely citrus American way. In a way that was earthy, moist, and dank. Strange, but strangely addictive. But it led to no munchies.
I’ll try to make another one next year. Perhaps on an APA base. Damn the torpedoes, and all.
Hopped Hard and Put Up Wet – (Amarillo Wet Hop IPA)
Starting Gravity: 1.065 (9/5/11)
Final Gravity: 1.012 (9/21/11) 16 Days
7.0% alcohol (by volume)
Apparent Attenuation: 80.6%
Real Attenuation: 66.0%
Mash (60 minutes ~152º)
12 lb Maris Otter Pale Malt 2-row
1.0 lb Munich Malt
1.0 lb Crystal 20L Malt
4.0 oz Crystal 60L Malt
Boil
5.0 oz Amarillo Leaf Wet Hops (Mash)
1.0 oz Magnum Pellet Hops (13.1% AA) (60 min)
14.0 oz Amarillo Leaf Wet Hops (10 min)
14.0 oz Amarillo Leaf Wet Hops (0 min)
½ tsp Brewer’s Choice Wyeast Nutrient Blend (Boil – 10
min.)
Primary
(68º F) Crashed down to ~35F during the last 3 days
Safale 05 – 2 packets
So, now that you’ve been warned, let’s talk about my entry for the Pilsner Urquell Master Homebrewer Competition. When the competition was announced, signing up for it was a no-brainer. Pilsner Urquell was running a contest in three cities (New York, Washington DC, and Chicago) to see which homebrewers could brew the best “Czech style” pilsner. The winner from each city would win a trip for two to Plzen to visit the Pilsner Urquell brewery, as well as attend the International Bartender Awards in Prague.
Hey. I’m a homebrewer. I’ve been meaning to brew a Bohemian Pilsner. I only live 2 hours away from Washington DC. I’m into free trips to Europe. It made all the sense in the world.
But I didn’t think this was going to be a slam dunk. I have experience making lagers and brewing for competitions, but light lagers are a different species. And I had never done a triple decoction, which is a mashing process that this style is known for. But I figured this would be a fun experiment and I could lean on my friend, and local pils and Czech beer expert, Velky Al.
The formulation of the recipe was pretty simple as this one is almost 100% pilsner malt and definitely 100% Saaz hops. For the base malt, I used the Weyerman Bohemian Pilsner Malt, which is a lower Lovibond barley with a bit more complexity than the standard German pilsner malt. To round out the malt bill, I used 12 ounces of CaraPils, to improve head retention and give the beer a bigger mouthfeel, and a few ounces of acidulated malt to lower the pH of the mash and wort.
The matter of the triple decoction was the difficult part of the brewday. I imagine triple decoction was born out of necessity back when the grains were much less modified than they are today. By pulling out the thickest part of the mash and boiling it three different times, it darkens the color of the mash, makes the wort more fermentable and gives the beer a more complex malt character. So I followed all the steps and pulled off thick portions of the mash into a little pot and boiled them to raise the larger wort up the next step temperature.
Triple Decoction: One of the step heatings
A rare sighting of Assistant Brewmaster Jasper
I can give you a flowery passage right here that describes how wondrous the triple decoction mash process was. How it brought me closer to the origins and magic of brewing. It did. But I don’t see myself doing this again anytime soon.
Go ahead; tell me that triple decoctions do something special to the beer. Tell me that this archaic process is not just for show. I believe you. I really do. But sometimes that is not enough when I look at the limited amount of time I have to brew. But I’ll save my thoughts around triple decoctions for another post…
So how did the beer turn out? Disappointing.
The picture above was of a sample of my beer (the one on the right) that I pulled off and carbonated while the rest of the batch was still lagering. The color was on. The clarity of the beer got much better after weeks of lagering, but not to the level of a commerical example of PU.
The taste of the beer? Well, there wasn’t much taste at all, and aroma was underwhelming, as well. Honestly, professional macro-brewers would be blown away by how clean and free of flaws this beer was. It was amazing. And amazingly boring to me. Al astutely thought it was closer to a Dortmunder Export, but I’ve made those in the past and I didn’t feel that that style was a perfect fit either. Since I knew I didn’t have the time to re-brew and lager, I dry-hopped the beer with an ounce of Saaz just to give it a little something…more.
As I knew from the start, this beer isn’t in the recipe. It is in the process. I think, now having one triple decoction brew under my belt, I could do better with that process in subsequent brewings. Also, I would probably do a less dramatic diacetyl rest. Urquell has a definite diacetyl flavor, which I dislike, and keeping some of that butteriness would make it closer to cloned and maintaining a cooler temp would likely keep the final gravity a few points higher.
I did not, unsurprisingly given my tasting of the final beer, place in the final six homebrewers in the D.C. competition. But, again, I felt it was a longshot in the first place.
So, I decided to brew all of the BJCP styles a year or so ago.
I think it is because I like goals and challenges, but I also noticed that I had been brewing for quite a few years and there wasn’t a lot of diversity in what I was brewing. I was always trying out new and interesting styles, but it seems like every other batch was an IPA or some hoppy creation. I had the skill to brew more difficult styles and it seemed silly that I wasn’t flexing those brewing muscles.
A few weeks ago, I noticed that I had hit the halfway mark. Of the 80 styles of beer outlined by the BJCP, I had brewed 40. And, as an interesting side note, 20 of those 40 brewed styles had won BJCP competition medals. Which is a nice bonus, since I set out to simply brew these styles and it was a subjective measure (my opinion) or whether or not I had hit the style, rather than an objective one (like a BJCP sponsored competition medal) of whether or not I had been successful.
Takeaways so far?
Hoppy beers are easy – Bottom line: hops can cover up a lot of flaws in a beer. Sure, it can be difficult to get a clean, crisp, huge and complex hop aroma and flavor into a beer. But there are a lot of places to hide in an IPA. Darker ales, like porters and stouts, can be forgiving, too. This is a good thing if you are just starting out, or you’ve had a sloppy brew day.
Lagers don’t have to be hard – Lagers are all about a big pitch and temperature control. If you can’t control the temperature of a fermenting batch or if you don’t have a huge slurry of active yeast to pitch, you really ought to rethink making a lager. Unlike the hoppy and dark beers I mentioned above, lagers have nowhere to hide flaws. You have to pitch big and control the flavors created by the yeast. Otherwise I suggest just making the style with an ale or San Fran strain instead.
Patience is the key – This makes sense for lagers, that require weeks at near freezing temperatures, and wild and sour beers, that need time for the brett and bugs to tear through the “unfermentables”. But I think we, as homebrewers, often drink our beers too young. I’ve gotten myself into the practice of letting ales ferment for a week and then sit on the yeast for another week to clean themselves up. And lagers definitely require 2 weeks of fermentation with a diacetyl rest to finish strong.
Where I think the real opportunity is it letting your beer set in the bottle or keg as few extra weeks. How many times have you tasted your beer a month in and thought, “Wow, this is awesome. It is really peaking right now.” What if you had waited a few more weeks and you ‘d of had even more of your beer at its peak? Sure, some beers, like wet hop or hefes, need to be enjoyed sooner than later, but your beers will benefit from a little age. Give them time. Show them patience.
Brew to style on the first batch – This drives me insane. If you’ve never made a doppelbock before, why are you trying to make a raspberry doppelbock? I love playing with fruits, spices, vegetables and wood, but nail down the style first. Make a saison without pepper and see what the yeast does naturally. It might be just what you wanted, and the grains of paradise you are adding to the boil are going to be excessive.
If you cannot help but fuck with your beers, split the batch. Treat one half to a traditional process and add whatever batshit stuff you want to the other, but make sure you have a control or you’ll never learn how did, as well as what went right and wrong.
Don’t like a style? Homebrew your own! – I know this sounds crazy, but making a particular style has been the key to me enjoying that type of beer. I’d never enjoyed a fruit or a smoked beer until I made one of my own. It is not that I did it better than others, but you are more forgiving with your own beers. You understand the aroma, mouthfeel and flavors that define the style. It clicks in your head. Well, at least it does in mine.
What will the next 40 styles be like? – Well, they will be the beers I’ve avoided or didn’t have the ability to do before. In the case of the Light Lager category, a little bit of both. I’ve got most of the Scottish and British styles to brew through, as well.
There are lots of malty and lager beers in my future. I’m looking forward to the challenge.
I’m in the Iron Brewer competition again and there are three new ingredients to work with. The beer that I made for Batch 1 was an oaked-aged smoked Baltic porter. It came in second place in the Iron Brewer judging to HopfenTreader for that round, but it medaled in the CASK competition and made it past the first round of the National Homebrew Competition this year in the Smoke-Flavored and Wood-Aged Beer category. And, more importantly, it was pretty tasty.
The three ingredients for this batch are: flaked oats, hersbrucker hops, and peppercorns. Oats don’t make much of a taste contribution but, as in oatmeal stouts, they will add to a beer’s mouthfeel and creaminess. Hersbrucker hops are a variety that I hadn’t used before, but they are German and are said to add some spice and earthiness to beers. Peppercorns were the wildcard, but the previous ingredients were leading me down the path of a style that would complement a fuller beer with spice notes. A roggenbier is a German ale that is similar to a dunkelweizen but made with up to 50% rye instead of wheat. A big, thick rye beer seemed to be the perfect backdrop for the spice of the hops and the peppercorns. To make things interesting, I decided to use pink peppercorns, which are actually not true peppercorns but rather the berries of the baies rose plant. They give a firm, deep pepperiness and a light twist of citrus in the end. Mostly lemon notes to my tongue.
Pink Peppercorns
The Close-Up: Pink Peppercorns
Armed with that taste in mind, a wrote my recipe trying to formulate a way for the all of the necessary parts to shine. A pound of flaked oats should be more that enough to increase the mouthfeel of the beer. And I used the hersbrucker hops for bittering and in conjunction with traditional Czech saaz hops as a flavoring addition. The pink peppercorns would be a 5 gram addition that would be crushed and put in the boil pot during the last 10 minutes of the boil.
The Grains: Rye, Flaked Oats, Pale 2-Row, Carafa II, Munich, Caramunich
My only concern for the brew day was the large volume of rye malt that I would be using in the mash. I used to use rice hulls to insure that I wouldn’t get a stuck sparge but, after running out a few times, I realized that my system didn’t need them. I frequently do 50% wheat beers without incident, but rye is a completely different beast. I’ve used up to 30% rye before and the mash began to get really thick and gelatinous.
The Real Secret Ingredient: Rice Hulls
To be safe I added 1 pound of rice hulls, which is an absurd amount, but I had no problems whatsoever during the sparge. But remember, when you add rice hulls to a mash you need to increase your amount of water, as well. My mash was less soupy than I normally shoot for but my conversion and efficiencies were fine.
No Stuck Mash
The runnings were a little slower than usual, and looked a bit like hot caramel, but at no point did I think the mash was going to stick.
The First Runnings
The rest of the day was smooth and uneventful. A favorite saying of mine and a good thing.
I made a big yeast starter of the White Labs 300 Hefeweizen strain. I’m fermenting at 62F to keep the more traditional banana and cloves aromas at bay.
Fermenting Away at 62F
I got busy with family and work, so the brewing of this one happened very late. But hopefully I can turn it around quickly and well. Thus far it has had many, many names. Roggen Hard and Put Up Wet. Roggen’s Hereos. Roggenly Handsome. Etc., etc. We’ll see.
The Recipe
(Roggenbier) Iron Brewer Batch #2
Starting Gravity: 1.062 (6/25/11)
Final Gravity: TBA
Mash (154º for 70 min)
6.0 lbs Rye Malt
3.0 lbs Munich Malt
3.0 lbs American 2-Row
1.0 lbs CaraMunich Malt
1.0 lbs Flaked Oats
2 oz Carafa II
@SoCalBeer Baking vs. frying helps, as does creating a tincture. Also chilling until the fat floats and congeals, and racking underneath. 9 mins ago
Hey @SoCalBeer, @SimplyBeer might not see your tweet since there was no space between the RT & his name, but oil & head retention is a issue 11 mins ago
RT @Timma_thy: I hope it's a snuff film. RT @Nickelback Off to Cali for our video shoot. Please tell me it's sunny there?!?! #celebreply20 mins ago
Probably @BurlingtonBeer MT @HopfenTreader: I wonder which American brewery will be the first to age their beer in an Amphora? 24 mins ago
