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)
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.
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.
This is my very belated post about this year’s Dark Lord Day.
I had tickets for Dark Lord Day in 2010, but a family commitment kept me from going. So I was prepared to go this year and, although I struck out in getting a ticket, a friend had me covered.
This was my first time attending and I was excited to take in the Dark Lord experience. For those who have never heard of Dark Lord Day, it is big event put on by Three Floyds which is filled with beer lovers and an orgy of all things beer. People come from hundreds of miles around to get their allotted Dark Lord bottles, and to trade unusual and rare beers with others. That is what sold me on the event.
But it is easy to forget that the bulk of the day is spent waiting in lines.
Lines.
It is a day of lines. Lines to get in. Lines to get your Dark Lord bottles. Lines to get your Three Floyds swag. Lines to try the guest taps. Lines to get into the 3F Brewpub (I didn’t even try). Lines to get food. Lines to……well, you get the idea.
No lines for the porta-johns, though. Seriously, that was well played, guys.
Three Floyds has gotten a lot of flack in the beer world for Dark Lord Day and how it is has been run the last couple of years. The process of selling the tickets is still a mess and, as someone who has been in the hunt to acquire tickets the last two years, the scrutiny they’ve gotten for that is well-deserved.
So how was Dark Lord Day 2011? I know you are on the edge of your seat and I don’t want to spoil it for you, but I thought it went smoothly. As smooth as you can expect considering the nature of the event.
The photo is full of a bunch of shifty motherfuckers, isn’t it?
Inside the gates was a mass of humanity, but not an insane one. People were polite, but it was like being in a giant, vibrating ant heap. It is always clear in events like this that beer people are good people.
The tickets were sold in “A”, “B”, and “C” versions, so Group A could pick up their bottles between 10am and noon, Group B was 1pm to 3pm, and C was between 5pm and 7pm. Fortunately a few of us had “A” tickets which allowed us to get directly in line for Dark Lord bottles once we arrived. The line was long, but it moved steadily.
This year, the Golden Tickets also had a scratch-off area that let you know whether you would have the ability, nay honor, of purchasing a bottle of the limited run barrel-aged Dark Lords for $50 each. Lots of us got lucky and, when all was said and done, our group got one of each bottle variant: a DL aged in Pappy Van Winkle barrels, a DL aged in brandy barrels, a DL aged in brandy barrels with vanilla beans, and a DL, aka. Dark Lord de Muerte, aged in bourbon barrels with ancho and guajillo peppers.)
One of the cooler surprises was getting to meet Randy Mosher at Dark Lord Day. Randy is the author of the books Radical Brewing and Tasting Beer. Both are really great, and I find myself returning to Radical Brewing whenever I get in a homebrew rut. His understanding and explanation of unusual ingredients in brewing (i.e. atypical sugars, exotic spices, fruit, etc.) in that book are inspiring, and it has pushed me, personally, in new and exciting brewing directions. Highly recommended. At his table he had several types of coriander, plus cassia buds and I bunch of other spices I had never heard of. And he was very patient with might-have-had-a-couple-of-beers me, too. Thanks, Randy.
The only thing I had to say negatively about the day was that the Guest Tap line was absurd and badly run.
That line could be measured in hours, rather than minutes, and once you got up the front it all became clear. Lots of people standing around *wanting* to pour beers, but they were bottle-necked by some expediter/joker who brought things to a crawl. I grabbed two beers in the line, the Stone Double Bastard with chipotle peppers and Cigar City’s Big Sound scotch ale. The Stone was solid and very balanced. The Big Sound was amazing.
Isn’t there always 5 or 6 of these tragedies during each DLD?
All and all, it is was a great day and the weather even cooperated for a few minutes and let the sun shine through. And it didn’t hurt that there was jockey box next to us that was pouring Zombie Dust and Gumballhead. All. Day. Long.
Takeaways:
The Good:
• The Dark Lord bottle and the bathroom lines moved quickly.
• All of the Dark Lord attendees were cool and unobnoxious
• All of the police and 3F event workers were cool and, I dare say, downright friendly
• It bears repeating: Beer people are good people
The Not So Good:
• The Merchandise, Guest Tap and 3F Brewpub lines we absurd and not worth getting in.
• This is the wrong location for this kind of event. No space, spent most of the day in an ant farm.
In the end, this event is about coming to the Three Floyds Brewery and getting in line to get your Dark Lord bottles. The rest is cake. I had a great time, and Three Floyds and the town of Munster, Indiana were great hosts.
Will I go to Dark Lord Day again? Maybe, but likely not anytime soon since getting to the Chicago area in April is never a great time for a trip.
The Berliner weisse style is a favorite among homebrewers.
It’s a sour session beer, around 3% ABV, which originated in Germany back in the 16th century. I’ve brewed this style several times, with great results, and it always seems to popping up in homebrew tweets. Just last week, James from Basic Brewing Radio and The Mad Fermentationist talked about brewing the style in a podcast.
Yet, for all our love of the BW, there are very few examples of the style that are commercially available. If I am lucky, I might be able to find a few bottles from two breweries at the best local beer store. The Bruery’s Hottenroth and Fritz Briem’s 1809 immediately come to mind.
This had me wondering why are the commercial breweries so far behind the homebrewing community with this style?
And let’s not pretend that I have some inflated opinion of the homebrewing and its effects on breweries. Sure, most pro brewers started their careers with small batches made at home, and homebrewers have the ability to wildly experiment with new styles and ingredients without hurting the bottom line of a business. So there a safety net there in that only pride, and not a company, is hurt when a 5 gallon batch is poured down the drain.
This isn’t an experimental style. It is pretty clearly defined, and no more challenging to make than any other sour. In fact, it can be turned around in a matter of weeks, rather than months, so that should be attractive to a commercial brewery from a simple logistical standpoint.
I can think of dozens of other reasons why and why not, but it seems like something better throw out to the community.
I say this in some jest, but why are commercial breweries afraid of the Berliner Weisse?
In December of 2009, I did a co-brew with a friend and made a doppelbock and an eisbock. That eisbock (named “Fargin Eishole“) ended up doing well enough to make it to the final round of the National Homebrew Competition in 2010. (I squeaked in a cider, as well, that year.) It was a pretty good beer, but I’d tweak up the alcohol and a few other factors with a re-brew. (I won’t be posting a recipe for the Eisbock. It was basically Jamil Z’s “Steve’s Fifty”, and I’m not taking money out of his pocket. If you don’t own his book, Brewing Classic Styles, you should.)
At the end of 2010, based on a dare of course, I returned to the world of absurdity and made an eis-barleywine. Weighing in at over 15% ABV, that one was a bit of a beast and will deserve a separate post and tasting of its own. (Coming soon…) “Eis”ing the English barleywine hit a minor glitch, but I’ll talk about that towards the end of the post.
But it hadn’t occurred to me, until recently, to put up a blog post about making eis-beers. There are two big challenges to making an eisbock. First, you have to make a really, really clean beer because the cold distillation will magnify any flaw. Second, there’s the matter of freezing the right amount of water in the finished beer and then getting that distilled beer back out again. Every time I had heard someone talk about making an eis-beer, it involved using a keg. That wasn’t going to work for me since I do not keg*.
Making that clean and well balanced beer, well, that is a topic worthy of an entire book. And others have done so. So I’m going to focus on the second challenge with this post.
The trick of an eisbeer, for me, was getting the beer frozen and back out again since I use glass carboys. The solution I came up with was racking my beer into a sealable bottling bucket and freezing it in there. The elegance of that solution is that the ice (now just frozen water) floats to the surface of the bucket and the distilled beer is towards the bottom of the bucket and close to the bucket’s spigot. Once you can see that the ice portion of the bucket is ~20% of the beer, it is time to rack.
The bucket after the eis-beer had all been bottled.
How long does it take? That depends on your freezer, the size of the batch and the ABV of the beer. I think you’d be safe to check it after 24 hrs and ready to go at 48 hours.
When I did this with my eisbock, I bottled straight from the bucket. I did not re-pitch yeast, and I didn’t need to, and I used Cooper’s Carbonation Drops to prime. If you wish to keg, lager some more, or prime and re-pitch yeast, you’ll probably find yourself racking into another container. I get nervous about sanitation and splashing a beer about if I rack a beer more than twice, so I went straight to the bottles and that went smoothly.
The only real hiccup I had was when I was freezing the eis-barleywine last month. When I tried to bottle that one, the spigot was frozen solid. I’m guessing that happened because I left some diluted Star San diluted water in there while cleaning the bucket and didn’t drain it back out. I’d be careful to make sure that area is clean AND empty before you start to drain the bucket.
There you go, simple and easy. Let me know below if you have a different method of making eis-beers. As with all homebrewing, there isn’t a “right” answer, there’s just the way that works best for you.
* – I usually brew a lot and no one, save me, drinks beer in my house. Bottling is how I started and I love to share my beer, so that is what I still do. (Some 15 years later….)
This learned group is dedicated to tasting beers that are difficult to obtain in Central Virginia, or have been cellared into rarity. The majority of these brews will be commercial, but occasionally homebrewed beers will appear if they make sense within, or prove a nice segue between selections.
As usual, coherent notes are not expected to arise from these scholarly sessions.
This January meeting of the year 2011 had the theme of Belgian-style beers. This took us on a cruise through quite a few saisons, tripels, dubbels, and many sour beers. There was even a sour pLambic cider.
Barlow Brewing Brett Saison Barlow Brewing Black Orpheus – Black Saison
Upland Strawberry Lambic
Goose Island Fleur
Half Acre Bairn Farmhouse
DuPont Avril
Three Floyds Rabbid Rabbit
Russian River Temptation
Dogfish Head/Three Floyds Poppaskull
Cigar City Guava Grove
Barlow Brewing Lambicide – pLambic Cider
Mother Earth Tripel Over Head
Captain Lawrence Golden Delicious
Cantillon 2006 Grand Cru Bruocsella
Goose Island Pete Jacques
HaandBryggeriet Haandback
Boulevard Bourbon Barrel Quad
Jolly Pumpkin La Parcela
Southampton Abbot 12
New Holland Blue Monday
New Holland Envious
For me, the big “winners” were, in order, the Cantillon, the Russian River, the Boulevard and the Goose Islands.
