Homebrew, Homestead, History and How-to.
It’s amazing, the difference a week will make. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we have grain! It’s a long way from ready for harvest, but it’s getting there… This is the Halcyon; the Maris Otter is probably another five or six days behind it. The Bere is growing rapidly, but is still probably about a month and a half away (at a guess); the Hana is right behind that.
Here are my “retired” Cascades, climbing up their tree, with tons of Alehoof all around:
Ah, spring…
Teaching went well last weekend. The class was smaller than I might have liked, but that was largely a factor of the size of the event. I’ve submitted proposals to teach the classes at University in a month; we’ll see how that goes.
One of the topics of my classes is medicinal beer. It would appear that at least the Germans were adding medicinal herbs to their beers, using them to transport whatever healing qualities the herbs were thought to carry. I don’t recall ever having heard of this actively being done in period–although I may have seen a reference to it somewhere, probably about the Saxons. Still, it stands to reason; they were using wine for the same purpose, and cordials (hard alcohol) were meant as medicine, not for their taste.
Some of the herbal additions seem reasonable and logical–they’re pretty standard herbal medicine, even today: Balm for stress reduction; Eyebright for eye ailments. Fennel for coughs. Ginger to settle the stomach. Some others seemed odd, but I can go with it: oak leaves as a diuretic. Juniper against poison. Still others were downright odd, if not dangerous: Salvia for the teeth (?); Pennyroyal as a decongestant (!).
Other “indirect” remedies include washing one’s face with wheat beer (good for the skin); beer warmed with oil and/or butter in the morning, as a laxative; table beer (very low alcohol) boiled with fresh hops to ease a toothache.
There were a couple of things I’d like to try, just to see–not for their medicinal purposes, but because the idea sounds tasty. Rosemary beer. Cumin. Anise…
In other areas, while “making the rounds” of stuff growing around the farm, I found an interesting little gem:
That would be a plant known as Ground Ivy, or Creeping Charlie. Back in the Medieval period, however, it was commonly known as “Alehoof,” and was used by the Saxons as part of a typical gruit. I’ve got piles of it; quite a bit is growing around the “retired” Cascades, appropriately enough… Some experimentation will definitely be in order, just as soon as I can get brewing again!
And while I’m thinking about it, my barley:
That’s the Maris Otter on the right, and the Halcyon on the left. The Bere and Hana are hidden behind these…
Well, sort of. At the least, two of my recipes are in a much more trafficked area than my website, and my name is attached to them. This turn of events is thanks to a friend of mine, known in the SCA as Sorcha Crowe, putting together an article on six-row barley for Zymurgy (the “official” magazine of the American Homebrewering Association–click the link in the sidebar and join up!). She asked me if I had any recipes using six-row that she could use, and the rest, as they say, is history.
As luck would have it, my “historical” barley (the Bere) is a six-row. Its progress in the field has been impressive–given another month, it may catch up to the winter barley in growth. The Hana is still plugging along, but hasn’t really been as productive, which is somewhat disappointing. (Overall, I’m not as impressed with the Hana as I would have liked–its germination rate seemed low, and now it’s not growing as well. I may try selecting the better seeds, to try selecting for a better-adapted variety, but that’s a multi-year process…)
I have, at this point, most of the holes dug for the pier footings, to which I will attach a deck, and from there a pergola for my hops. I hope to get the footings poured in the next couple of days; if I’m successful there, I should have hops in the ground after this weekend, and not a moment too soon. The Sterling rhizomes have put up shoots, as have the Magnum and one of the Willamette. The Cascades are lagging a bit, but if need be I can get a cutting from my “old” plants (which have reached their climbing strings, and are progressing as hops will do).
In the meantime, I think I have my class notes finalized for this weekend; I need to find a free minute or two to make copies of my handouts. Atlantian University has found a site for a Summer Session in June, and my Lady Wife and I are combing our schedules to see if we can attend and present our classes (she teaches classes on Russian clothing). Right now, things are looking positive.
On another positive note, I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to actually brew something by late summer. Probably not “inside” in the Brewhouse, nor on a nice, shiny electric brew-rig, but brewing nonetheless. There have been a number of people ask when I was going to start back up; for now, that’s the best I can offer–“soonish.”
The biggest problem with growing barley, I’m finding, is observing the progress. On the one hand, brewing is a hobby for the patient–it’s all “hurry up and wait,” after all. On the other hand, watching barley grow is rather like–well, not to put too fine a point on it, it’s like watching grass grow. (Makes sense, really, since that’s exactly what it is…) At least with the hops you can see progress on a daily basis.
So, everything has germinated. The Maris Otter and Halcyon are nearing the tops of their “cages”. The Hana and Bere are a ways behind that. I’m disappointed with the germination rate I got from the Hana in the field–of the 30-40 seeds, I’ve got maybe ten sprouts. (All of the Hana in the planter came up–it’s likely a soil issue, rather than a seed issue.) The Bere is happy both in the field and the planter, with its second set of leaves up and the third set looking not far behind.
In the meantime, with less than two weeks to go before their introduction, I’m feverishly going over, revising, and correcting my class notes for the Medieval German Beer classes. There are three, tentatively titled: “Period German Brewing Practices,” “Medicinal German Beers,” and “A Period German Pub Crawl.” Thus far, the corrections are primarily fixing typos, and making sure my facts line up. Of the three, I’m happiest with the Pub Crawl; it’s entirely possible that in the future I’ll fold the Period Practices bit into that one for a “mega-class”. I’m hoping to have some medicinal herb people in the Medicinal Beers class, and to make it more of a discussion group.
Part of the fun for the Pub Crawl was looking at the various local beer names–“brands,” if you will. A friend of mine was commenting on the wide variety of beer names available at the local liquor superstore, and the humor value in many of them… Well, our ancestors were no different in that regard: Butterfly, Toad, Choir Finch, Mosquito Mustard, and Raving Man are among the less vulgar names. Some of them describe the feeling, or aftereffect, of the beer: Body-blow, Rip-Head, Blow-the-Man-Down. The Lubeck offering of “Israel” was so named because of its strength: “People strive with it as Jacob wrestled with the Angel.” (“Israel” is from the Hebrew for “wrestles with God”.)
Surprisingly, only a few of the beers were familiar to me, in terms of historical offerings: Gose, Israel, Broihane, Alt Klaus, Joben, and Mumme. Of those, I have only ever tasted commercial Gose. (Mumme has become non-alcoholic, while Broihane morphed into a Pilsner, apparently. I have practically no information whatsoever on Alt Klaus or Joben.) Bock was not mentioned as such, although it was present if you know where to look–it derived from the name of its town of origin, Einbeck. Indeed, it was searching for information on period “Einbeckisch Bier” that led me to the sources for my classes.
I’ll try to update again, either as “teaching-day” approaches, or soon after… And, I promise, pictures of barley (and hops!) will be forthcoming before long.
While I’ve been lax in updating this blog, I’ve been (reasonably) active with some experimentation. My last brew day, one week ago today, saw one modified “normal” batch and one experimental, and I’ll be whipping up two more experimental batches tomorrow evening.
The modified batch was a version of my (quite popular) Kolsch recipe, but with the volume turned up to 11. I believe it will end more like a pale ale than anything else. I was down to basically dregs on my current base malt stash, and decided to use it all; this bumped the starting gravity up about 25-30 points. I increased the bitterness by a similar amount, keeping the BU:GU ratio roughly the same… It will still be quite pale, I believe–something in the golden range–but with a firm bittering, and a solid malt backbone.
The experimental batch was based on the idea of caramelizing honey for a mead. Several folks have done so-called “bochet”, or “burnt” meads, with the results being described as different, if not entirely to their liking. I was going for a slightly less “cooked” flavor, and hoping for an improved color. (Not that a straw-gold mead is a bad thing, but it’s just a bit… well, overdone.) I took my “spare” pot (7.5 gallons) and emptied 10lbs of wildflower honey into it. With a touch of water to rinse the honey containers, the total volume was right about 1 gallon.
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| Honey, before the boil |
All accounts that I’ve read regarding boiling/caramelizing honey when making bochet indicate that it foams up quite a lot. I had planned on simply stirring like mad to keep it from boiling over; let me recommend instead using a very low flame. The stuff literally tried to crawl out of the pot.
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| 45 minutes into the boil; still climbing the pot, but a lovely color. |
I boiled for about an hour, all told; the honey turned a lovely deep amber, and even my kids commented on the “caramel” smell. A second word of warning for those who would follow in my footsteps: bees can smell the honey cooking. They will come to try to “rescue” it. Lots of them will. At the end of the hour, there were about 6 big bumblebees and maybe 15-20 honeybees swarming the pot. At least three of the honeybees gave their lives trying to grab some of the honey–they got “caught” by bursting bubbles, and fell into the pot. I don’t think they’ll throw the flavor off by much, though. At any rate, the end result is quite pretty, and is (still) fizzing away happily.
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| The mead and the Kolsch; the mead is the dark one just left of center. |
As for tomorrow’s adventures, I’ll be throwing together some more meads–a few folks over on the GotMead forums have some “quick” meads, supposedly ready-to-drink in 3-5 weeks. We shall see. I’ll try to document those here, with pics.
But a braggot, maybe. I’ve been contemplating this one for quite some time, and am still not certain exactly what I’m going to do. I’ve got the honey–a full gallon of killer-bee honey, rich and tasty. To this, I’ll add a basic beer-like concoction, and ferment. But what sort of concoction?
The grain bill is the obvious place to start. Malt will add a both color and a depth of flavor to the brew. But what to add? The BJCP guidelines seem to suggest that the braggot should be built off of a base beer style, but Ken Schramm indicates that it doesn’t necessarily have to be so. I think that my course of action will be to do a basic, mostly light malt brew. I’ll add some slightly darker grains, Special-B and/or a bit of Crystal 60L, just enough to add a reddish tint.
The hops are next on the hit parade. All of my sources call them “optional” in a braggot. I think a light hopping with something in a floral/noble bittering hop, just to cut some of the intense sweetness, is in order. Certainly nothing IPA-like; I’m thinking more the hopping levels of a mild ale, possibly even slightly less. I don’t know necessarily what type of hops; perhaps a nice Hallertau?
Finally, there’s the yeast to consider. Schramm’s samples use Lalvin D-47, which supposedly flocs well and works to 12-14%. I think a better choice would be to start with a clean, alcohol-tolerant beer yeast, then perhaps finish up with something else in the wine variety, to “clean up” some of the residual sugar. A healthy lager yeast, combined with a cold ferment, could do marvelous things. (2018 edit: or one of my new favorites, WYeast 1968) But then, perhaps going straight for a wine yeast to start would be good. I’ll have to play on Promash and look at starting gravity, attenuation, and alcohol percentages, then decide.
Lastly, while it’s likely a while off, I’ll need to consider containers. This won’t be one to keg–it’ll be far too strong for that. Small bottles will be in order. Perhaps after a light filtration and force-carbonation. The bottles I’ve got on order from Shiloh Pottery will be lovely for presentation, too. I think I’ll enjoy this process.
The topic of what and why I brew has come up several times recently, and after a bit of contemplation, I felt that I should express my views.
The reasons I brew are many: I enjoy the actual process. Frequently, brew days are socializing times with friends. The “puzzle” of what style would be good, and what ingredients should go into making it, is enjoyable. And, of course, there’s the end product. I brew beer at least as good as, and often better than, what I can buy. The beer I brew is also less expensive than store-bought, something I’ve put some time into achieving. And, finally, it’s enjoyable to gather a group of my friends together, throw some meat on the grill, and have a good time–lubricated by some of my beer, of course.
Something I don’t care for, however, are those who drink solely to get drunk. Add to that group those who insist on only brewing highly alcoholic beers–constantly striving for over-10% batches. I’ll admit, I’ve made a number of strong batches; I certainly don’t think strong beers are inherently “bad.” But I think that to truly call oneself a brewer, while limiting oneself to a single “style” (if “big” can be called a style), is to define “brewers” somewhat narrowly. There is great variety in smaller beers, and much complexity. They can require significant finesse. And they can be sublime.
All that being said, there is, of course, a place for everything. I’ll be hosting a “Winter Warmer” competition at an event in January; I hope to have a good turn-out, and to see lots of really tasty brews. I may have some of my own to sample, but I won’t be entering anything myself, of course (since I’ll be running the comp). I should think about doing one for lighter, “lawn-mower” beers in the summer…
Those of you who have followed my antics for the last couple of years (since before this blog) know that I include hops-growing in my hobbies, in the hopes of one day getting a harvest to use in a batch. I started out with two rhizomes of Mt Hood hops, but they mysteriously died shortly after putting out burrs. I replaced them with two Cascades rhizomes last year; I was able to harvest a few ounces from them.
One of the rhizomes sprouted this year, but it was nipped by birds (I’m assuming) before it could get more than a couple of inches long. The other one was dug up by the pup, as he went through that phase. Long story short, they both croaked. So, I ordered some more, rather late in the year (the order was placed in May, from Freshops). The rhizomes arrived on June the 12th. I ordered a new pair of Cascades, and inadvertently one Newport rhizome. They all got planted on June 13th.
The Newport was the first to sprout, but it withered and died within a week; I’m not sure what happened, exactly, but I don’t think the rhizome was in the best of shape to begin with. No harm, no foul.
What follows are some photos of what the Cascades have been up to this month…
To the left, you will see the rhizomes, with the Cascades taking pride of place…
And below, the first shoot from the Cascades, 9 days after planting.
Here they are, four days later. These things grow like crazy!
And here they are, as photographed this morning (5 days after the last shot).
Watching them isn’t quite as dull as watching grass grow; I’ve got nearly daily photos dating from their initial sprouting. I may be convinced to put up the series on the website (watching the daily change is interesting). Regardless, updates here in the blog will be forthcoming as the weeks go by.
As promised, here are some photos of my new stirplate:
This is it, in 90% of its glory. A few salient features to note: The knob on the far right controls the speed. The red switch in the center is power on/off (it lights up when on). The jack on the left-facing side is for the wall-jack.
Here, you see said wall-jack. I haven’t yet firmed up the split in the cable with electrical tape, but that’s not going to be either difficult or time-consuming.
Here it is, stirring away (at some water), full-bore. Note the nice whirlpool developed in the center. You can just make out the spinning white stir-bar at the bottom of the flask. Also, note the beautifully lit power switch. 🙂
All told, I don’t think this even cost me $20 to make. The computer fan (the actual “driving force”, if you will) was salvaged from a dead desktop computer. The enclosure I had purchased for another project, but subsequently realized was too small. I had the AC adapter from my other project (the HERMs Rig Controller), and only needed a female jack. The jack, switch, potentiometer, and knob I got at Radio Shack for under $10. Simplicity, itself.
I hope this has inspired you to make your own stirplate! I’ve certainly been bit with the do-it-yourself bug, after this. There’s nothing like having a completed project, functional, made by your own hands, to make you want to create.
If ever there was a recipe for a better Brew Day, I don’t know what it is. Had a couple of friends over (could have had more–you know who you are!), BBQ’ed some chicken, brewed up a batch of stout (to become Blackberry Stout, when all is said & done), and generally had a good time. The weather has been decent, so we spent the day outside. The yard is dirtscaped (no grass to speak of), and it’s a tad hot with no shade out there, but we all endured–copious amounts of homebrew helped, especially the wit. I’d say that a good time was had by all.
Next month will quite possibly be my last brew day until late September or early October–I’ll be off on a business trip for about two months. Much experimentation and tasting will be in order while I’m out. I’ll try to manage a brew in early July, but there’s no telling. Hopefully, I can have the majority of the HERMs system put together by then.
My Lady Wife assisted with a tasting/judging at Sapphire Joust yesterday; she’s now even more eager to bring general A&S standards to the brewing community. We (they?) have been a bit lax, or so it seems to me. I mean, the reason I didn’t enter the most recent Kingdom Brewer is that I don’t/didn’t have anything that I would enter into an SCA event–even though a couple of my brews at the time were fantastic–just not documentable. Between that and the cognitive dissonance with the standards for containers, I’m not keen on doing SCA brewing competitions, generally. Maybe in future; we’ll see.