The yeasty part will probably subside. What happened was, while it was still in the carboy fermenting, I took a refractometer reading. Don’t do this. Turns out, alcohol greatly affects the readings, which makes perfect sense. I thought I had a stuck fermentation, so I shook up the carboy to wake up the yeast. Then I realized my mistake in using the refractometer, and took another reading with a hydrometer. Turns out I had nailed the final gravity. I kegged it only minutes later… with some yeast still in suspension. This probably explains some of the yeastiness.

Now I have a converted keg system. I also have a pump. I also have a nice plate chiller, a ‘whirligig’-style sparge arm, a grain mill, a temp control for my fridge… a lot has been added, but I haven’t spent much time getting all of these things put together in such a way that they get set up the same way every time and everything ‘just works’. Hell, I have all this stuff and still don’t even have volume markings on my vessels! I’m still eyeballing all of my volume measurements, and I still, to this day, don’t take any gravity readings during my brew day.

The gods have smiled upon me for a long time. I’ve made some good beer. I’ve made more good beer than bad. And even the beer I didn’t like, others did. But I’m getting less happy with “lucking out” on brew day, and I’m starting to take some steps toward a better process.

This most recent brew day went like this:

12:30 - put 8.5 gal water on burner
12:45 - it’d be nice to cut the entire top off of the hlt so I can pour from it. Dunno how to get 4 gallons into the mash cleanly. Gotta transfer using a 1-gallon pitcher I guess

12:50 - windy as hell. Killing the boil times. 20+ minutes, still only ~120.

1:10 - decided to heat strike water to 185F since I’ll lose heat transfering it to the mash

1:33 - struck with 4 gallons. Transfered using 1-gallon pitcher, into the cajun boiler pot, then all 4 gallons at once into the mash. I stirred, and just measured the temperature. I’m hovering near 154F. Target was 152F. Almost as close as I’ve ever come to nailing my strike temp, and it was the process with the most opportunity for error (though the simplest as well - no hoses or pumps were used, so maybe that’s debatable).

2:08 — temps are still just about perfect.

2:40 — forgot to boil sparge water. Just turned the burner back on.

2:48 — with the lid off for the past 8 mins, mash temp only dropped to 148F. Not bad.

3:23 — just put on burner to boil. Not sure what volume I collected. Gravity about 2 mins before I stopped collecting was still around 1.015+

3:45 — wort is now boiling

3:55 — added 1.5oz crystal pellets @ 3.8%AA

4:10 — added 1oz crystal pellets

4:35 — added tsp. irish moss

4:45 — added 1.5oz crystal pellets

4:55 — flame out.

5:08 — all in fermenter. I lost a LOT to the boil. I’m adding a gallon of water to it now.

Ok, so there are some corrections that need making, and I’ve brewed enough batches now that I can see a pattern in where things go haywire, and where I can’t see patterns, I can see other issues

First, there should never be a point at which you have no idea how much fluid is in a vessel, no matter which vessel we’re talking about. Even if it’s the mash tun, you should know that you’ve put in, say, 4 gallons of strike water. You should know that, so far, you’ve added 3 gallons of sparge water by looking at the water level in the HLT, and you should be able to derive the amount in the mash tun at any point during the sparge by looking at the level in the HLT and the kettle. If you have no markings on any of the vessels, doing this becomes difficult.

Second, you should know how much you lose to equipment alone. Today, for the first time, I tested to see how much water I lose to the mash tun, and I learned something really valuable: where you put your spigot matters even if another tube goes all the way to the bottom. Here’s the story:

The Mash Tun Lesson

I have a converted keg with a store-bought false bottom made for converted kegs. The keg holds 15.5 gallons of water, but I don’t need to fill it all the way up to do the test. I put 10 gallons of water in there, and nothing else. I only used that much because I wanted to mark the volumes on the outside of the vessel — not because they’re useful on a mash tun — they aren’t. I did it because my kettle is also a converted keg, so I can be reasonably sure that the measurements are similar (I’ll mark up the kettle separately tomorrow). Anyway, what I wanted to know is “If I put 10 gallons of water in here, how much can I get *out*?” I put the water in, and opened the valve, and let the water run into a 1-gallon pitcher. I did this repeatedly.

When the water level got near the top of the spigot, there was a very noticeable drop-off in pressure from when it was full. Having dealt with my fair share of siphons and various vessels and stuff, I could see what was going to happen, but I was still surprised. My notion had been that, as long as the fluid keeps running, it’ll run all the way to where the bent tubing reaches to, and the placement of the spigot is irrelevant unless you stop the flow at a point below the spigot. This is only half true.

The reality is that the water will keep flowing past the level of the spigot if there is a siphon point below the spigot. It makes absolute crystal-clear sense when you see it, but I hadn’t been picturing it that way in my brain. When I saw the pressure dropping, a light bulb went off, and I went to grab a hose. I stuck it on, bent it upward so the trickle from the spout would fill it with water, and then let it fall downward so the water would flow out, creating a siphon. The pressure increased dramatically, and I got 9.75 gallons out of that vessel.

Why is this important?

Because if I didn’t understand this, and I temporarily stopped the flow out of the mash tun to take a gravity reading toward the end of the flow, turning on that valve again won’t get me much, and I’ll be wondering why I’m 2 gallons short going into my boil! The center of my spigot is right at the 3 gallon mark! Now that I *do* understand this, I can try to avoid this problem, or at least know that I can probably start a siphon again even if I stop the flow when there is less than 3 gallons in the tun. This *will* make a *large* difference.

The Kettle Lesson

The first thing I thought when I was done running off the wort into the kettle was “I have no idea how much that is”. I guesstimated that it was about 6.5 gallons, and after looking at some pics I took during the session, and marking up my mash tun, I think I was pretty close on that guesstimation. The real lesson though had to do with how fluid is lost during and *after* the boil.

For whatever reason, I completely forgot, until I was staring at the bottom of the murky, emptied kettle, that you lose fluid to the kettle itself, over and above evaporation. Some fluid is absorbed by the hops, and plenty is left at the bottom of the kettle because… well… it’s sludge. In the future I’m going to figure in about a half gallon of loss right there.
Also, I lost *a lot* to evaporation. I boiled (I mean, the wort was actually boiling) for 70 minutes. If you consider that I started the boil with ~6.5 gallons of wort, and lost a 1/2 gallon to the bottom of the kettle, and that only roughly 3.5 gallons made it into the fermenter, that would mean that I lost something like 2.5 gallons to evaporation in a 70-minute boil! Of course, this doesn’t mean that I lost 2.5 gallons per hour. In reality, the kettle was on the burner for 90 minutes, and evaporation was taking place for just about the entire time. But even so, it means I was losing at a rate somewhere around 1.5 gallons per hour, and probably better than that during the time that the boil was really rolling.

And the boil was *really* rolling. This is only the 2nd batch with the new burner, and the first batch with it was about a year ago (I had my first child in the interim, so you’ll excuse the lack of brewing activity). The boil was downright violent. Much more rigorous than anything we had with the old burner. Maybe I just shouldn’t be too surprised that I lost so much to the boil.

I’ve learned two things about boiling in general - one I’ve known for a long time, and the other I just learned:

A long time ago I learned that you should *not* put a cover on your boil, because one reason you boil is to get rid of volatiles that can cause off flavors. One that comes to mind is some kind of sulfur compound created by the hops during the boil, but there are others as well. What I only just learned, though, is that there is an actual target to shoot for with evaporation rates, and there is such a thing as over- and under-evaporation, and either situation (in dramatic form, I imagine) can have an impact on your beer. See this.

My wife and I had our first child, our daughter Molly, in May 2007. Since that day, I have not brewed. I haven’t had the time. At all. Really. However, I do find that I’m home a lot more. My wife and I eat at home far more than we used to, and I cook a lot more than I used to (PS - I have always enjoyed cooking). I need something to drink with dinner!

There used to be a liquor store near my house that carried some absurd number of beers that you could buy by the bottle. Unfortunately, their selection was rather inconsistent, and the freshness of the beer was sometimes questionable. After some time, it got so bad that I opted to travel the extra few miles to another place that had a pretty good selection, and was cheaper and fresher. I’m lucky to have two places anywhere near me that have such a good selection of beers.

But now, the old place up the block was taken over, and the guy handling the beer part of the operation (it’s a full-fledged liquor store) really seems to care about beer. Good beer. I’ve tried tons of beers. All of a sudden the shelves were bursting at the seams with beers I had asked about when the old owners had the place, and I got lame excuses about. They’ve also gone back to stocking bottled versions of those British beers that have started going to those pub draught cans that I don’t care for.

I’ve tried tons of stuff, and I’ve come to a few interesting conclusions over the past, say, six months or so:

1. Saison is the only Belgian style of beer that I really like. I’ve tried several over the years, and figured maybe I just wasn’t trying the right ones. Then I tried Chimay Bleue, which scored, like, a 100 on RateBeer, and I don’t like that either. It’s not that they’re not well made - I’m sure they are! The thing is that there’s this flavor in Belgian ales that is sort of a hallmark of Belgian ale, and it so happens that that flavor drives me nuts. I don’t like it. Saison, on the other hand, is unlike any other Belgian I’ve ever had. I’m so glad I found Saison. I only found it a couple of years ago, and I’ve *never* brewed it, but I’d really like to, because it’s probably among the lightest, most refreshing beers you can brew without lagering. While it’s true that it’s kind of a light, fizzy beer, this is a beer with bite, and bold, sometimes peppery flavors. Fantastic.

2. Rogue is not capable of making a bad beer. I tried their XS this year. It pours like old engine oil dripping into the pan. It’s intimidating to witness, but when you drink it, it’s just awesome. It’s amazing how they actually got the hops to pop in a beer like that. I’m also a big fan of their Brutal Bitter, and whatever they called their Christmas beer - I forget the name, but it has a pic of santa claus on it, and it totally rocks, and I’m not someone who normally buys beer with Santa on it There *are* beers I’m indifferent toward. Dead Guy Ale and their Hazelnut offering don’t do a whole lot for me, but I wouldn’t turn one down, either. Today I bought another bottle of the Brutal Bitter (very good, British-style, not as hoppy, fizzy, or clean as some of the more pronounced American-style Bitters), and I also noticed the Mocha Porter on the shelf. Because of the label’s coloring, I thought this was Rogue’s Juniper beer, but noticed the word “mocha” at the last second before I passed it by.

3. I”m not as big a hophead as I thought I was. Back in the mid-90’s, I thought I was a hop head. I was the only person I knew who drank anything like a craft beer. I loved (and still do) Sierra Nevada, and occasionally liked an Anchor Steam. If I was in a restaurant I’d try to find some interesting hoppy beer. In the mid-90’s there weren’t a lot of restaurants that had interesting, hoppy beers. I tended bar at a place that did for a while, and I tried dang near every beer in the place (they had about 60 beers there, which was a lot at the time). I loved Geary’s Pale Ale, Harpoon IPA, a couple of the Brooklyn Beers were good, Wild Goose IPA was pretty good too. None of these, however, can really be called “hoppy” anymore, though. Not with Stone Brewing, Dogfish Head, and others who seem to be attempting to see how far they can push their fans. All I have to say is this: when you have cottonmouth after drinking a 12 oz beer, there are too many hops in your beer.

4. My palate has matured somewhat. I like a lot of beers now that I didn’t care much for years ago. Malty beers used to *all* seem cloying and chewy to me. Nowadays, I love Belhaven’s Wee Heavy Scottish Ale, Schneider Aventinus Eisbock, and a few other beers on the maltier side of the fence.

5. I’m still not tired of Guinness Extra Stout. No pub draught for me. I still like the beer that, at the tender age of 15, I coined “ol’ rusty pipes”. I’m really happy to see all of the other stouts and porters on the market, because I love stouts and porters, but I’ll just as soon pick up a six pack of Extra Stout. Maybe it’s part nostalgia? As for the newer ones I’m now able to get my hands on, I’m finding that, if it says ‘porter’ on it, I’m probably going to like it. Surprisingly, the same is not true for stout. Black Douglas I found really just boring, for example. Also, Imperial stouts aren’t something I’m going to go out and get a six pack of, though Old Rasputin is pretty good stuff if I’m gonna have one bottle.

6. Germany makes great beers. Used to be I stuck strictly to American and British beers. Adventures into Belgians were sometimes painful (though I’m glad I went through it, because it’s how I found Saison), and I found that diving into the beers of other regions available to me were mostly pretty boring. For example, France doesn’t have much to offer in the way of beer. Again, I’m glad I got adventurous with beer, because I found, for example, that Poland makes lots of beer, and one brewery there even makes a pretty good porter (I’ll have to come back when I remember the name of it). But 99% of the beers I’ve tried from Africa, Japan, France, Slovakia, Russia, etc., are a good bit like Budweiser. Anyway, I’ve added Germany to the list of countries that I am officially a fan of in terms of their beer making. I’m not sure I’ve yet had a bad Hefeweizen, though they differ quite a lot. I’ve also tried the dunkels, and bocks, and lots of other German styles. I have to say that I don’t like all German beers, but the *reason* is that, within each German style, there’s so much variety that it’s almost impossible not to come across something you just don’t care for. I’m not a huge fan of the really heavy doppelbocks I’ve had, but I’ve had some interesting Rye bocks and lighter doppelbocks. The only German style for which I cannot find an example that I like is Marzen (a.k.a Oktoberfest). These beers exhibit that same hallmark flavor as some of the Belgian ales that drives me nuts. If someone knows what ingredient or process causes that flavor, or what chemical is the cause of that flavor, let me know so I can research ways of making sure it never gets into the beer I brew. I just can’t seem to acquire a taste for it!

So, that pretty much catches you up on what’s been going on beer-wise. What you might not know is that Matt got married, and they’re having a huge party in Maine, in July. Between now and then, the plan is to brew 4-6 batches of beer to bring up there with us. It should be quite an interesting early spring! I don’t believe there’s an official list of beers we’re going to brew, but for sure our Red Ale is going to make an appearance. We’ll probably also do a standard bitter. Aside from that, who the heck knows? I’d like to try doing a Saison for those at the party who like lighter beers, and a wheat beer for people who don’t like hops and like to put lemons in their beer and stuff. We haven’t talked about it much, so who knows what Matt has up his sleeve

Blogged with Flock

When I called to see if there was any refund, exchange or any kind of store credit type policy for bad beer purchased at the stores, I was completely lambasted by two different employees there. Note that I wasn’t pissed off or aggressive when I called - I was pretty matter-of-fact about the whole thing. I didn’t even have any expectations when I called because I have never returned beer before, and didn’t think it was something that would be taken back, because if you leave beer sitting on the seat of your car in direct sunlight, it damn well *could* be your fault that the beer got skunked! And why *should* they be held responsible for that?

Anyway, after the first person started telling me that there was no return policy on bad beer, I was abruptly put on hold, and then someone else came on the line and basically accused me of not knowing Stone products. Of course, this doesn’t explain why the Bluebird was bad or the Sly Fox was bad. It also is a little detached from reality because oxidation tastes similar no matter *what* beer you’re drinking. If you know what oxidation tastes like, you can pick it up in things you’ve never had before. However, I’ve had *plenty* of Stone products in my day, and I’ve had it in several locations, I’ve had it on tap, and I’ve had it in bottles.

Nevertheless, I was willing to gamble that there was more bad beer in the store, and so told the guy “look, just go open a bottle of it there in the store. It’s bad”. I figured if nothing else I’d help him get the bad beer off the shelves and avoid more phone calls. I don’t know why I’m doing him favors at this point, but whatever.
So at the end they guy says to bring in the bottles and if *he* thinks they’re bad, he’ll give my money back, and we hung up. Of course, his tone was so overly defensive, and he treated me like I was such total pond scum that I decided to write of the $23 as the cost of finding out where *not* to go for beer.

A few minutes later, the guy calls me back and wants to know when I’m coming and says he wants to call me out because he doesn’t think I know my beer. At this point I couldn’t resist telling him that I BREW BEER! In fact, not only do I brew beer, I have, in the past, brewed beer that has been oxidized during the bottling process, and it tastes (gasp!) just like the bad beer I got at Glendale Liquors.

So the Glendale Liquors representative (he never gave his name) is clearly not buying this whole “I brew my own beer” thing, and tells me I’m a “fucking asshole” and never to come back into the store.

So, I will happily not be returning to the store. Unless you’re buying BMC products in cans, I recommend you stay away as well. These people need to understand that business is not about insulting and berating your customers. They need to realize that I have family, friends, and fellow brewers (who spend *lots* on beer *weekly*) who will *also* not be returning to any of their branches.