Thursday, April 19, 2007

There are many better beer blogs out there. Lew Bryson has one of them that I discovered today while cruising the nearest thing the NYTimes has to a beer blog. Bryson's is better than the times, and I especially like his session beer discussions.

He defended session beer against the claim that they're the least common demominator is a recent article--he's dead right in a really outstanding bit of blogging there.

I'm going to throw in my two cents on this subject with a rather different analogy than the one he uses, an analogy which is meant to shed light on why a joys is session beer are a mark of true beer aficionado, in a way that I think extreme beer just isn't. It goes like this: what some people like about baseball is to watch slugger crush a ball 495 feet long past the centerfield wall. Some people love to watch a pitcher throw seven without letting a man on base. And if you're watching the game, no one misses that no-doubter as flies from the field of play. But it takes an awareness to relish the perfect innings, because no single pitch will draw your attention the event of which they are a part--a near perfect game. To see that requires an attention to whole, an awareness of the how all the parts compose it, that is an activity of the spectator impossible in passivity.

Thus is session beer. Unlike much extreme beer, it requires the attention of the drinker, beutdoes not demand it. The joys in session beer require awareness on the part of the drinker which cannot be achieved in passivity. And, like appreciating a perfect seven innings of baseball, it also requires the cultivation of appreciation.

A recent pale ale that I made was a sort of hybrid of american and british pale ale, and I think it illustrated the beauty of session beer well. I finished the beer with kent goldings hops and fermented it with white labs pacific ale yeast, which is more of an english-type ale yeast than an american one. The grain bill was maris otter with a blend of two light-side crystal malts an just a bit of wheat malt, the O.G. was about 11.5 plato. I bittered it with chinook hops, which is most of where the hybridness comes in, though I mashed for high attenuation and kept it more carbonated than a british ale would ordinarily be.

That beer was outstanding. Like an opitcal illusion in which is which you can see either a vase or two silhouettes simply by directing your attention to one aspect or the other, you could change this beer simiply by directing your attention to it's bitterness, or it's malt, or it's hops. But unlike the illusion (where you can perceive just one, even though you know the other is there) you could never completely loose the rest of the beer in the aspect to which you'd directed your attention. (And the coupling of a sublte dose of piney chinook hops with an otherwise rather british beer is splendid.)

Having praised session beer and it's merits, let me, with Bryson, say that I have nothing against extreme beers. But let me, with Bryson, register my complaint against extreme beers that are boring, that demand and restrict my attention to their bigness--an artless gnashing of heavy metal guitar with the amp cranked to eleven. The experience is boring, and often even pleasant. I'm stealing the spinal tap metaphor from Bryson. The best big beers, like the best session beers, deliver their drinker an experience which is not demanded but permitted; they open a teritory of the brewer's art, but leave the drinker to experience, explore and discover. And of course, when done right, what one discovers is great.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Today was finally IPA day. I used 3 oz. of rice hulls to spectacular effect. ('Spectacular' is an overstament as there's nothing that's ever a spectacle about a sparge.) I'm pretty much committed to rice hulls in everything from now on. I did a thin mash of 1.7 quarts/pound, mashed at 149, and everything went nicely. In the future I'll try 1.6 qts/pound as 1.7 seemed unnecessarily thin, and I should keep in mind the quart that lives under my false bottom.

I chnged the hop profile: 1 oz each cascade and amarillo for 60, 1 oz. amarillo for 15 and 1.5 oz. cascade at knockout, with 5 minutes before I started the chiller.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Well, yesterday's indecision is over. Thursday's session will be an IPA. I'll mash 11 lbs. Warminster Maris Otter, .5 lbs. each german wheat malt, Dingemann's caravienne and Paul's 10-20L crystal with 5 1/4 gallons of water at 148 degrees for 2 hours and mash-out at 167. What?! Oh yes, I said it and I meant it. I have a theory that maris otter, because of it's low enzyme content, needs longer to convert. Moreover, I'm fermenting with California V ale yeast, so I'm going to push attenuation from this mass. (The Cali V ale yeast attenuates 70-75%, and I would like to acheive at least the upper end of that range.)

The hops will be a blend of cascade and amarillo: 1 oz. each at 60 min, .5 oz. amarillo at 30, .5 each at 15, and dry hopped with one ounce of cascade; that, anyway, is the plan, but I may well revoke it and do some first wort hopping with an ounce of amarillo and half an ounce of cascade.

Monday, April 09, 2007

Processes...

My mash process is a little clumsy. This derives mostly for issues of heat loss. Presently I mash in a keggle and use direct heat to bump the temperature from the sachrification to the mash out temp. I loose 3-7 degrees during the sachrification rest. There are sudden jumps in temperature during the interval from the sach rest to mash out, and I often detect pockets of heat. This is related to using direct heat to keep the mash at temperature: there again I find sudden temperature jumps, which could mean accidentally denaturing beta-amylase by adding heat to keep temperature.

To eliminate these problems I'm going to try using a mash over 1.6 qts/pound--much thinner that I have been mashing. The hope is that this will improve the transfer of heat through the mash because mixing the grainy fluid will be easier. I will be able to test the hypothesis that a thinner mash will reduce temperature jumps during my next mash by taking regular temperature checks to see how the temp rises as I mash out. If my hypothesis is confirmed (i.e. if the mash temperature rises uniformly during the test mash-out), this will indicate that I can use direct heat to raise the temperature of the mash during the mash without risking over heating and spoiling the beta-amylase.

Wish me luck.
Time to brew another beer. I've had a few house guests recently and for the first time in awhile have only one keg of beer in the refrigerator (the beligan thingy I did awhile back.) The Weizen should find it's way to a keg soon.

Still, it's time to brew another, and I don't know what to make. I have a big bag of maris otter which suggests a british style beer or an american interpretation thereof. I think I prefer an american version thereof as I find a nice american hop profile quite summery. An alternative is to go with platinum ale: pilsne reciper, substitute ale yeast. If I were to do an american interpretation of english ale, I would consider going the following: amber ale, IPA, light-colored american pale ale. Here're sketches of each recipe:
Amber 9lbs. maris otter, .5 lb. carapils, .75 lb. 80L crystal, 3 oz. special B--mashed at 151 for 90 minutes; Willamette first wort hopped and aroma hopped, bittered with cascade to about 35 IBU. With california ale yeast.
IPA 12 lbs. maris otter, 1 lb. brit. 10-20L crystal, .5 lb. wheat malt (head retention)--mashed at 148 for 90 minutes; chinook and cascade to bitter, with amarillo and cascade all the way through for flavor and aroma, 70 IBU or so. With cali ale yeast.
Pale Pale Ale 9.5 lbs. maris otter, .75 lb. 10-20L crystal, .25 lb. each wheat malt and carapils--mashed at 151 for 75 minutes; ahtanum and willamette hops, or some cascade.
Those are the ideas I have. I'll probably decide what to do tomorrow.