Two New Beers

Carbing/Conditioning next week - An experimental IPA¹, aggressively hopped and made with only a single base malt.
In fermentaton - A hybrid American Amber/British Bitter² that fell foul of viciously chaotic circumstances.

1. The IPA, dropped clear and racked off the sediment

Today's tale concerns the unintentional hybrid Amber/Bitter we've concocted...

We started this past weekend with grand dreams of exacting and specific plans of controlled process and mimicking a specific beer. Several commercial breweries are kind enough to give folks a general approximation of what malts and hops go into their beers. One such which seemed like a widely available one for side by side comparisons was Elysian's Mensroom Red. Our plan was simple, to take the information on that page and use our knowledge (and exceptional software!) to try and get the best approximations of malt and hop amounts, mash schedule and yeast types to best hit bitterness, color and alcohol levels of the original beer. Through this we hoped we could come out with something that might at least stand up to a taste test, if not a full side-by-side comparison. Oh the ignorance and naivete of the inspired homebrewer!

The following is a lesson I'd learned before but had somehow deigned to forget for this exercise: 
ABC - Always Be Changing! Homebrew supply stores are to a great degree at the whims of the commercial brewing industry. The malt types that are in abundance are those that are grown and modified for various recipes favored by the local big players. It limits (or expands in some cases) what is available as excess for homebrew supply. Our recipe called for using a less common (though not unheard of) malt type as base and thus when supplies were purchased, the fact that the supply shop we settled on was completely out of that specific grain type was most alarming.

2. Into fermenters - an experiment with different yeast types

This led to a somewhat misguided attempt to substitute out various malt types and panic leading to bad choices. There was a safe conservative path to take and it was summarily ignored. We ended up with our smallest grain bill yet, and our smallest overall mash ever. This caused all kinds of observed problems with maintaining mash temperature to successfully convert starches to sugars (this may have been a limitation of our temperature gauging equipment). We added hot water, we added more hot water and when that appeared to fail we directly fired our Mash Tun, risking scorching the grains and making a mess of the whole thing. Luckily we managed to reach some kind of equilibrium and get a semi-decent mash (although it showed greater and lower than desired temperatures at all times). However, due to the measure of the grains and the chaos of the mash we were left with something that pre-boil, represented a significantly weaker beer than we'd planned. This is where the art and science of the process of brewing comes into play in its fullest force. Left with a beer with sugars less dense than desired, and an impending boil, we simply boiled the heck out of it and came out with something that we feel is going to be a worthy addition to our repertoire. There will be less volume, but that is certainly something we can live with.

The hop bed - post boil. Performs excellently as a filter bed for those undesirable and coagulated proteins

So the lesson learned (or perhaps reinforced) here is to always be thinking on your feet and open to whatever may be coming out of left field. Keeping your head and making good choices when things go wrong is essential in brewing as in life, if your best laid plans appear to be collapsing around you, take a moment and think about it. You are probably much more capable of improvising a win than you think at that very moment. I have a feeling the resultant beer of this past weekends session is going to be quaffable in the very least and has the potential to be the happiest accident of all. And even if it is an offense to the taste-buds, we still learned a lot and had a ball making it.

Come the end of this month we're going to have 3 beers on tap and another knocking on the door. Methinks some kind of social event is in order!

Been spendin' most their lives*, livin' in the All Grain paradise

And lo the day hath arrived!

Grains were mashed, water and wort were heated, boiled and chilled and all and sundry was washed, rinsed and sanitized. 'Twas a great day, with many wild successes and few setbacks which in truth ended up being minor in nature and highly educational. We ended up feeling like things were intuitive enough and our errors largely avoidable in future. Lets be honest here though, we could have messed it up considerably and still probably made a decent beer. But who wants decent beer? I vote for exceptional beer every time.

For starters we couldn't have asked for a better day in Edmonds, WA. It had been grey and rainy the whole week prior and driving north that morning things were looking a little misty from the Interstate. But the sun prevailed and everything had burned off by 10am. Being able to brew outside was great as using propane tanks the more air circulation we could get the better.  And the above timing provided the first lesson of the day - start early! After a 'quick' sit down to go over the schedule for the day and to get on the same page for the various upcoming tasks, we didn't really get going in earnest until about 11:30am. Things didn't seem too bad though, as we planned on a 6 hour brew day and with Winter receding here in the PNW we felt we had a decent buffer. Word to the wise - finishing up the boil and cleaning up in the dark isn't a deal breaker or even that challenging, its just ultimately better planning and easier on the brewers to get things done before sunset. So I'll be looking forward to some dawn brew days in future. That and maybe buying a flood-light...

Revolution 9 - explosivo

That we might learn something...

The Final Shipment Is In

Therminator et al arrived today. Big fun! Now I just need to pick up some Mash Tun insulation and a couple of lids and we are ready for final testing. Stay tuned!

A New Year, a New Domain and New Promise!

Hark! The frosty winter's chill is in full effect. Much has happened, waists have swollen and receded and the Sound abides, ever unmoved by humanity's holiday exploits. Sound and Fury Brewing has had some success amongst the inertia of the season; our holiday ale - Winter's Discontent Spiced Ale was a smashing success. So much so that not a one remains of the batch. It was a joyful celebration of winter warmth, with a lash of ginger, a hint of cardamom and a sprinkling of cinnamon and candied orange peel adding gusto to a modest ale that had room for more and took it on in spades. Fleet of foot on the palate and easy on the faculties this was truly one for a long delicious winter session and looking to be a favorite Sound and Fury seasonal. Keep an eye out for it again in the future.

In addition, we now bring order to your Internets with soundandfurybrew.com! It's official, that is now a thing and it will ever simplify... your rss feed. Potentially. Either way its good to have and a symbolic step of intent going forward for the new year.

Speaking of intent, onward marches the all-grain system! As previously noted all vessels are complete and the only missing links are a wort chiller (I'm thinking a Therminator is my best bet at this point) and one or two barbs and connectors. Once they are in place and I've insulated my Mash Tun (latest worst case scenario* testing was brutal on the keggle setup - ~30*F temperature drop over 1 hour) we'll be ready to rock! I'm going to be ordering these later in the week so look out for the first batch, with various January commitments and such it will be coming sometime in Feb! I have a feeling that first off the line will be a split 10 gal version of the Pistachio Porter.

There's still some work to be done on clearing the space...

*Tested strike water @ 172*F in uninsulated Mash Tun with no lid in <40*F ambient temperature

Bottle Bombs Part II ft. The Souring of the IPA

CARNAGE!

Kablammo!

It appears to me that what bore fruit in batch #9 (Scottish Ale) had its origins in batch #8 (Cherry Stout). My first indication was a few days ago when I had a tasting at my Aunt's Day of the Dead party...

...The scene was set. It was over 2 months since I made it, personal tastings had been a roaring success and I too had the highest of hopes for people's enjoyment of my stout endeavors. But alas, the best laid schemes or mice and men go oft awry. I did tastings of the Cherry Stout along with the Sour IPA (batch #10) and that itself was something of a chaotic experience. Much like its predecessor, the IPA had clearly suffered from infection, though in place of excessive carbonation this one had soured like so many new age sours one might procure from several cutting edge micro/nano breweries these days. I personally am not a fan so this one has been hard to have tastings for. I seem to provide it from a position of apology, which sours (pun intended) the experience in some ways. Some loved it, some hated it and still others were indifferent and yet appreciative of the development and the sampling of new things.

And then the tasting of the stout.

I've been romanticizing this for some time it must be said. Meandering treatises on the pros and cons of aging and fanciful yarns of harsh winter nights being warmed by a feisty fruity stout holding the night at bay notwithstanding, it has been something of a disappointment.

The party in full swing, I announced the tasting of the stout and friends and family gathered around in eager anticipation of the fruit of my labor. The textbook bottle-opener hiss... and then more. Much more. A fully bonafide gusher. This wasn't meant to be. The stout was supposed to be different. It was the Scottish that was the aberration. But alas it seems it wasn't to be, the Scottish was a victim of the Stout's intransigence.

When cooled sufficiently they are palatable, pretty darn good to be honest, and some are more explosive than others. A perfect example of this was coming home from work last night to the smell of dried stale beer from an unknown location. After a bit of investigation it turned out it was coming from everything in the brewing closet!

What goes up...

...must come down.

An oddly cool looking configuration.
For some reason the peripheral bottles were untouched

This was the real deal Holyfield ladies and gentlemen. None of this subtle cracking and leaking and sitting straight up belying its shattered nature. If not for the box it was in we would have been digging shards of glass out of pretty much every surface in the closet. 

This experience leaves me feeling rather sanguine nonetheless. I kind of enjoy the clean up as it is a task a brewer would undertake and by doing it I feel like more of a brewer. We can chalk batch #8, #9, #10 up as mistakes (in part, it must be said, truly beautiful mistakes) but the scare of #9 gave birth to a much more thorough cleaning and sanitization routine. Batch #11 (Winter's Discontent Spiced Ale) is looking pretty clean and tasting good. It'll be going into the bottle sometime this week and the ginger is starting to ease off allowing for a more complex flavor profile.

Looking to the future, I think its time to dust off the old favorite, the genesis of endeavors. I think next on the docket is to be the good ol' Pistachio Porter. And lets not forget that just on the horizon is an all grain paradise...

The Bayou Classics are in and testing well!

To let it be or not to let it be... that is the question?

The question of age and conditioning in beer is as important and potentially contentious as it is in wine (and people). The very act and method of brewing is a study in time and patience. It is a commonly held belief that the IPA is the beer of youth. A young IPA holds more of its hoppy and bitter edge, and this will mellow out over long periods of aging. So as the theory goes, taste early and taste often! I must admit to having been ignorant of this at the outset, and the first two IPAs I made suffered the whole 3-4 week bottle conditioning process without a sampling. However, do not misunderstand me here, they were fine beers, and have done naught but spur me on in my forthcoming brewing endeavors. But can I go forward living with the doubt? What of their status at week 1 or week 2? As I learn more about this style (and rationalize my process) I see that there's little to be lost in having the complete experience of each beer one makes. I'm currently only brewing 5 gallon batches, and whilst that doesn't leave huge tracts of room for waste, one or two bottles in the early weeks of conditioning probably wouldn't impact things too much. After all this remains an exploratory phase.

We all have our own barrel warehouse right? 

Which brings me to a current conundrum, which I am going to say is providing an exciting learning curve! As summer has faded and the foreboding clouds and ominous nights are drawing in, one seeks greater comfort than can be found in the arms of a crisp lager or summery hefeweizen. I seek now instead the velvety security blanket of the stout to ward off winter's chill. In a seemingly prescient move, I actually made my stout in the depths of August's summer reign; reasoning that I'd miss it were it not to be ready until the following spring (I made it a cherry stout to afford a fond reminiscence of Summer's glory). And in truth I've been as patient and faithful as I could have hoped. It was bottled and primed two months to the day after it had been tucked in for fermentation, and now I sit here musing after 20 days conditioning.

I'll level with you here and now; I have tasted it and not just at hydrometer readings. I had a glass that somehow(!) got left over from bottling, and after about 18 days in conditioning I cracked one open to try it. Perhaps somewhat predictably it has proved delectable. The sourness of the cherries (more about them another time) really offsets the sweetness and cuts the heaviness. But now I research the style more and more and am left with one stark realization: conventional wisdom dictates that stouts (and particularly Imperial Stouts - this bad boy clocks in at a burly 9.6% ABV) are aged for near implausible* lengths of time. I feel I should probably go anywhere up to and beyond a year for a truly well aged stout, which gives me pause. I want to live this stout now and enjoy it over the winter months, but in such small batch size this would surely belie its true character. Approaching 3 months aged it would seem silly to go on a spree of consumption and polish it all off before the year is out, but it is so good! The better parts of myself will have to be disciplined and maybe I should trick myself into stowing 2-4 bottles somewhere that I cannot get at to afford the true stout experience. Where an IPA can pass you by fleetingly if you linger overlong, hubris can have you chasing things in a stout that are yet to be. A study in wistfulness if ever there was one. Is patience the ultimate virtue?

*At least for this eager new brewer