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And apologies to Henry the Eighth. (For the uninitiated, the title of this post refers to a drinking song written by the Corpulent King in his younger days, and wildly popular at many a RennFest.)
The Mead Hall
This weekend, I had the great joy of attending an overnight SCA event. This particular event, the Red Mountain Mead Hall hosted by the Shire of Isenfir, started as a mostly brewing-focused event. It has added a fair bit of dance and other artistic happenings, as well as becoming known for its delicious (and sizable!) feasts.
For me, the event was a chance to spend quality time with fellow brewers I don’t get to see often–the event is located near the geographic center of the Kingdom, so attracts people from all over. I also took it upon myself to clear a little clutter from my cellar.
A Miscellany of Bottles
Every brewer, with time, tends to collect a group of bottles of various batches. Makers of meads and wines are particularly bad in this regard. These bottles will usually, for one of a variety of reasons, be un-labeled. (Many of my batches simply don’t get labels; other times, they fall off, or fade.) I brought about twenty bottles, planning on opening them all and doing a “tasting and critique” party.
I generally leave my ego at the door when my brews are being tasted, the more so when I’m not sure what’s going to come out of the bottle. Things ranged from a growler (one of a set of four) that has been sitting full and undisturbed for going on four years, through a variety of unlabeled things of various colors, to the single remaining bottle of a batch of Acerglyn (Maple Mead) that I put together something over a decade ago.
Often Surprising Results
The beverages that emerged from the bottles were almost entirely unexpected. Several were given a resounding “meh.” Some were really good. And only one, really, was bad as such.
The best (and first) surprise was the growler. I had completely forgotten what I had bottled up; the rubber gasket was completely dried out and cracked, and I was certain that the contents would be thoroughly oxidized, if not vinegar. Instead, what poured out was an extremely delightful apple cider. Huge apple on the nose, lovely flavor, and not bone-sucking dry on the finish. The only real complaint was a brief period of “dead space” towards the middle, where the cider was trying to decide what to do next. Clarity was magnificent. All in all, quite lovely, and I’m glad I’ve still got three growlers of it.
The worst surprise, on the other hand, was the “bad” one. The liquid was a clear golden yellow. Decent legs. No sediment. But the aroma was… off, somehow. And the taste–wow. After pondering just what I had bottled, and what exactly happened to it, it struck me: this was a batch I had made for an acquaintance on something of a dare. Tomato wine. Once I had placed it, the flavor was quite clear (and lingering). From a purely technical standpoint, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. It just… well, it sucked.
Other samples included a bottle of chocolate mead (not ready yet–I’m led to believe that they can take years for the bitterness to mature out), a pair of bottles of Perry (which I brought because I know that’s a good batch), and a red wine that didn’t quite reach its full potential (not bad, but also not great). There were others, but they’re not really all that memorable.
The Exciting Part of the Evening, Sort Of
Having done a fair bit of drinking, obviously no one was in a hurry to drive on home. (Particularly me, as it’s about a 3 hour trip from home.) So we took advantage of the on-site cabins, and racked out for the night.
But it must be mentioned that the cabins are unheated, and while they’re not “open-air,” there are sizable gaps in the walls. And the low for the night was 26 degrees F (that’s negative 3 degrees Centigrade, if you’re doing the math). Indeed, the whole day was quite chilly outside. Fortunately, the Great Hall itself has a large fireplace that was kept roaring all day.
Events like that are when having a Russian persona shows its worth. I was layered up quite nicely (wool socks under the leg wraps; two pair of pants; three shirts–two linen, one wool; a nalbound hood and mantle, and a nalbound hat). Indeed, I had to step out of the hall on several occasions to cool off.
And for sleeping, I had a cold-weather sleeping bag, with a separate fleece liner. Those were atop a wool blanket on doubled mattresses on the bunk, with a small (fake) fur under my head, using my “mundane” clothes rolled up nicely as a pillow. I had another blanket over the top of me, was wearing a T-shirt, long underwear, and socks, and had my hat on my head.
Once again, I found myself almost too warm, and was letting my arms alternate “chilling” in the open air to moderate my temperature. But in the end, I survived, and was relatively comfortable–certainly more so than several of the others attending the event.
Upcoming Brew Day
My next Brew Day will involve a little less mead, and a bit more beer. My friend Cormacc wants to recreate a popular Viking’s Blod mead he’s done in the past; I plan of making an Amber Lager, since the cellar has reached the right temperature range. I’ve also got the makings for a Kolsch-style beer, but that may wait for December (or, possibly, for Spring).
I’ve also got a gaggle of small mead batches that I can tend; assuming I can clear out another fermenter, I may even start a batch of Acerglyn. (Or possibly Berry Melomel. Or something along those lines.) And I’ve a batch of Dark Mild Ale that I have to decide whether to bottle or keg. And then there’s plating up the “wild”/feral yeast I collected from my honey.
But those are topics for next time…