The Session #70 – Don’t Believe The Hype

Hype?

Well, I’ll probably get hammered for this, and there is an element of me being contentious for its own sake (because I DO like much of the stuff I taste!), but can I suggest the most over-hyped beery thing is the term ‘craft’ and the stuff that sits around it!

It’s a meaningless term. It is generally defined as something you do with skill and by hand. So, can someone tell me how the ‘craft’ of brewing a pint of Banks’ Mild is less than that of making a beer with ‘bucketloads’ of hops before ageing it in the stomachs of Bactrian Camels? How can a brewery so aggressive in its defence of the term ‘craft’, defined in the US as ‘small, independent and traditional’, pump out around 2.5 million litres of product, ripping up everything we know about ‘style’? (a hateful word, anyway)? It isn’t that, to quote Brewdog, ‘real ale no longer means anything’, it is that the term ‘craft’ has been misrepresented, incorrectly used, and been foisted on drinkers as a marketing ploy, in a cynical attempt by brewers to entice the weak willed into buying their product.

And, as we (and I have been there too, comrades) get drawn into the seedy guerrilla marketing world of ‘craft’, we become involved in the beer-porn universe they want us to inhabit. For the analogy bears some testing. You start off, perhaps dissatisfied with the pint in your local, professing it to be brown and bland. You find, lurking in some recesses of the Beeriverse, an old bottle of some kind of IPA, packed with New World hops. You drink. You savour. No one need know. It’s your little secret; American beer isn’t that bad after all. However, soon, a beer spurting with Amarillo no longer thrills; you need to move on. Before you know it, you are drinking a Saison, flavoured with creosote, brewed on the auspicious day of the Great Farting, filtered through the gusset of a pair of tights worn by Betty Grable, and delivered by water cannon fired by homeless Ugandans. And we can tell our mates about it. And we can metaphorically say ‘Fuck You! I drank a PHENOMENAL beer that was only PHENOMENAL when I drank it…it is now shite, and you can’t have it!’

Why am I so exercised? Jealousy? That I cannot afford the £45 a bottle price tag? Hurt pride? That I can never brew beer like that? Not really. It’s more like the spicy hit of tedium, aged with chippings of concern.

Tedium. Tedium, because all of a sudden beer is starting to gain the caché of wine. Even CAMRA support that kind of thing. However, we now talk about beer pairings, artisan manufacture, and is someone going to say terroir soon? As a geographer, I really want to think about beer as a geographical entity; the hydrogeology of water supply, the transport of ingredients and product, the historical context, the environmental footprint, the way beer permeates parts of our social fabric and how that has changed over time. As a drinker, I just want a good, tasty pint, well kept! When I go to the pub I want to leave the academic stuff behind (that’s my day job!), and sup a beer and think ‘Mmm, I could have another of them….’ Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for people to taste and describe. I belong to the Scotch Malt Whiskey Society, and some of their tasting notes make Gilly Goolden blush. But, sometimes, over-analysis tells us nothing. You’ve just got to taste it yourself. And I don’t care what you think.

Concern. Well, because some proponents of the term ‘craft’, seem to have forgotten the roots of the drink they so love. And this has built a sort of ‘beer snob’ culture that I hate. I get accused of being a ‘beer snob’ because I turn my nose up at a pint of Worthy CreamFlow, but by ‘dissing’ lots of small, regional, truly traditional breweries who put out stuff many are now seeing as ‘bland and brown’, means that the real essence of the craft could be lost, at least to the many. Beer IS a simple product; the ingredients are few and common, and the process not that difficult – after all many households made their own in times gone by. But the present shift of the ‘craft’ movement towards chucking everything at it from coffee grinds to printer cartridges (‘ummm…yes…wait…I’m getting hints of the HP Magenta ink circa ‘95…’), means that they are actually making brewing a far more arcane activity, as if these brewers have some divine connection to Ninkasi, and marking the product up accordingly.

Beer, and brewing, is about democracy. Firstly, like any good democracy, you participate; not just in the process of selection but in the creation of product. There are aspects of the ‘craft’ industry where this is just as alien as the so called ‘regionals’ or ‘nationals’. Don’t get me wrong, there are both ‘craft’ and ‘non-craft’ areas that get this right, but neither can claim the moral high ground. Secondly, beer is democratic in that you choose to like it and choose what to like. At GBBF this year, a thoroughly decent ‘regional’ introduced us to a new range of beers laced with New World hops. They were, in my opinion, pretty rank. Or, at least, much worse than either the bitter or dark mild they had brewed for generations. Even they had been seduced by the ‘movement’! Even worse, could there be a time when I can no longer choose their ‘boring, brown and bland bitter’ over these new brews? All of a sudden, this lack of beery competition is sounding like taste autocracy!

I could go on. But you have probably nodded off into your exquisitely fluted glass of fermented yaks horn, barrel aged in the sewers of Paris, and fermented under strict conditions of 24 hour Popul Vuh records being played at barely audible volumes.

Cheers.

AG#10 - The Tasting

Well, here it is....in all its glory!

This is the late-hopped Bluebird clone, fresh out the barrel. First impressions, this is rather too carbonated...I'm going to have to move the barrel to the shed, as sitting inside, even in the coldest room, is playing hell with the fittings.

That aside, the look is great...compare that with a previous photo, and the colour is smack on. Dark golden in colour. That bit of crystal has given a nice hue, and just a hint of residual sweetness.

I late hopped this quite considerably, and I can report that it has really worked. The nose is really hoppy, when it is first poured. Afterwards, this dissipated a bit, possibly losing it in the head (?), but a gentle swirl gets the aroma back. Of course, this was hopped with Challanger, so the hop hit is all spicy green hops, rather than the New World tropical fruits.

On the palate, the beer is nice and bitter...not over the top at all, but good enough to keep coming back. So my concern that I would not get enough IBUs out of the late hopping are unfounded. It lacks a bit of body (this is almost 1% lighter in ABV than it should be, due to a lower attenuating yeast than must be used by Coniston). However, this means that this is a cleansing pint, which you can keep coming back to.

Quite chuffed with this. The technique of late hopping looks promising.

All Grain #10 - Bottling the Bluebird

Last time, I wrote that I had decided to try a Bluebird clone, but use a significant amount of very late hops.

Well, the brew went quite well. I seemed  to hit all the volumes and gravities, with perhaps the finishing gravity being a little high (1.014 rather than 1.013). Having said that, there was no way I was going to get 3.6% out of this wort and yeast. Either Coniston have a phenomenal control of fermentation, which I suppose goes hand in hand with a more professional brewery, or their yeast has one hell of an attenuation rate. Well, 3% ABV isn't that bad, is it?

So, it all get kegged today. Great colour, that lovely burnished gold that draft Bluebird has....here's a particularly fine example from it's home in Coniston - a well deserved pint after a day on the hills with 45 undergrads!:

And did that late hopping work? Indeed it did, and this is quite exciting - almost 60g of Challenger hops added with 5 minutes to go. This gave me half of my bitterness, and it is still there. It's crisp and really enjoyable, well balanced. However, most of all, the hoppiness is there in the nose, in a way I have not been able to get before. Challenger is not a big aroma hop, and it's %AA is relatively low compared to the New World hops.  The aroma is one of hops (yes, I know that sounds remarkable!) rather than citrus or any of the stuff you get with hops like Chinook and Amarillo. It's kind of a grassy, spicy smell, not unlike the 'hop store' aroma of the hops in their packed state. Rather nice, and reminds me that the 'hopheads' who keep piling New World lupilin into their beers need to touch base with home occasionally!

Clearly, for the pocket, late hopping is a bit of an issue, but the results have been good so far. With some of the bigger aroma hops, with higher %AA, I can probably cut down on use. However, as a first go, with some good British hops, the results are decent. What it also means, is that I have probably been a little conservative in the past with my late aroma hops. It is also a technique to keep in mind when I have hops that need to be used. The single varietal pale ale approach isn't a bad tactic every now and then - a session beer with interest, easy to make and using up hops before they tire.

I hope I don't get any kegging nightmares before I can start drinking in 2-3 weeks. For some unknown reason, I seem to have yielded more beer than usual - the pressure barrel is full, so I hope there are no explosions.

The first of the Saison

After two weeks in the bottle, I opened the first trial bottle of the saison this afternoon.

I think it is fair to say that it is a little young, and it will be interesting to see how this ages in the bottle. However, time for first impressions.

I cooled the bottle down, it having conditioned in the warm, then coolish kitchen. Removing it from the fridge for 30 minutes seemed the best way to get to a decent serving temperature. And cool it should be; this beer is well carbonated, and probably needs cooling to prevent serious foaming when you uncap the bottle.

It poured with a decent effervescence, but nothing that meant I lost the beer. It is a bark russet red/brown in colour, not black. Although there is wheat malt in the beer, I neither got a decent head (just a thin lacing of foam), nor, apparently, a cloudiness you might expect. As far as I can see, through the darkness, the beer is clearing well.


On the nose is that faint Belgian yeast smell, that I always find really inviting with Belgian beer. The dry hopping has added aroma, but if you are thinking North American hops; all citrus and tropical fruits, that's just not there.The hoppiness is more woody, more European/British, if it is there are at all.

The first taste was unusual. That slight saison sourness, with a hit of chocolate which develops more as the beer warms slightly. The finish is dry; pleasing bitterness, but almost flint dry so that the beer finishes really early leaving that roasted malt taste - more black coffee than mocha. Because of this, I wonder if this is a beer to pair with food rather than just drink as is, as it may cut through some foods.

Very interesting. I am starting to think bottling it by the pint may not have been wise, though. This feels like a half pint measure, but I suppose you can always share!

I was tasting this as I mashed for another brew. This time, I've gone for something pale. A bit of a pain as my water is all wrong for pale ale, so I had to boil it first and get rid of some alkalinity - note to self, buy some carbonate reduction solution! Anyway, I'm going for a clone of the rather lovely Coniston Bluebird, but following this trend, I am getting half the IBUs by throwing a load of hops for the last 5 minutes. The aim is to get a really great hop hit, but with the bittering added. I have a load of Challenger that need to be used, so, why not?

Closed saison

Well, bottled anyway!

Sunday saw me bottling the dark saison co-created with Steve at Beers I've Known. On removing the top of the FV, the first thing I got was a huge hit of hops from the Pacifica I had added as a dry hopping experiment. Gravity remained at 1013, suggesting a beer of around 5.5%.

Tasting it before bottling, there had definitely been a change over the week. The sourness was there but less pronounced, the roast notes there but much more subtle now - and providing more balance than main interest now. However, the dry hopping had made this beer taste much fresher - not exactly the hit I expected from the way the hops smelt and were described, but a nice crispy taste that came from these new hop oils. I wonder what bottling will do for it?

Next time, I think I will get some kind of small bad for dry hopping, as fishing all the arrant leaves out was a bit of a pain. I primed the bottling bucket with about 60g of sugar, and syphoned from SV to bottling bucket.

Managed to squeeze 13 pints and a couple of small tester bottles out, so Steve, you have your saison! Will let you know what it's like in a couple of weeks!

At the same time, I decided to do a bit of housekeeping. I decided to get rid of the remainder of the Veno's Porter....it was just getting too much for me! I also had to get rid of three remaining bottles of the winter Belgian I brewed. Not sure what happened here, but the yeast never settled, and opening at room temperature created lots of foam (so I suspect I over primed). However, one thing to note is that months and months down the line, the beer still tasted great, if not better than when I first brewed it - a definite plus side to the faff that is bottling

Saison Update

So, a week from pitching, and I thought I might take a peek at the Overseas Dictator....

First thing to note was just how ACTIVE the yeast was. I had my first ever overspill in two years of brewing....it just went nuts. Now this maybe because I fermented in the kitchen, rather than understairs, and the weather has been a bit warmer...but we returned home on the Monday to froth everywhere! Even after a week, there is still krausen sitting on the surface, which I had to skim off to take a gravity reading.

Secondly, this yeast attenuates very well, regardless of what I have heard some say about its general finickiness  Perhaps warm is best for this yeast! However, seven days on, gravity comes in at 1013, from 1055. That's over 75% attenuation, and 5.6% ABV. This was a little higher than I expected, so it looks as if the yeast has done most of its work. I shall let it sit for another week, just to allow it to condition a little before bottling.

Finally, the taste. I have to say that I think this is one for the enthusiast. Easy drinking this is not. The roast that was dominant before pitching has lessened, but there is clear dark, smoky hint. Bitterness wise, there is a decent balance, but it is not overpowering. I have to say I do not get the citrus notes from the hops, but this may improve with bottling. However, the beer is rather dry on the palate, with black pepper (for me), and then there is just a hint of sourness. This is not acetic sourness from contaminated beer, but something all the more subtle, similar to the sourness you expect from this and similar styles.

My suspicion, on first taste, is that this one will be better served a little cooler. This may also help me carbonate it a little more without explosion!

The Overseas Dictator

Todays brew day was brought to you by the evil mind of Steve Lamond at Beers I've Known.....

In a recent Session, Steve blogged about his perfect beer. He described a Saison, but, with a sick twist of dark malt and New Zealand hops! Bloody weirdo.

I thought this was interesting. Partly because the beer he described was so far from what I thought a saison to be, and partly because, as I brew more, the more I appreciate the skill of people who do this kind of thing of thing for real; regardless of what you THINK you want the beer to be like, it never really seems to happen that way - whereas the really good brewers appear to get it right more often than not. May be that is harsh on us real amateurs....perhaps what we drink from others is the result of lots of practice, mistakes, and small test brews. I admit that, even with my crap set up and bucket chemistry approach I've not made a really crap beer....oh, hang on, I take that back....but anyway, malt, water, hops and yeast tend to have made something palatable.


I suppose it's a bit like cooking....you only really get to taste the dish from the chef when they've tweaked and tailored it. But my beer has always struck me to be something like my photography....in my head the picture has always looked better than the actual image. In my head, I'm Ansel Adams, but the pictures look more like they were taken by Tony Adams. In my beer, I'm more Yosser Hughes than Sarah Hughes...

So here was an interesting test. Steve knew what he wanted, and I knew I could brew it, but would it really be any good? Steve suggested the name, Overseas Dictator, and I thought the following would be both a record of a collaborative brew (he got the brains, I got the boiler...), and also a description of the process should people be interesting in taking up home brewing.

So, here we go. My technique is known as BIAB or brew in a bag. Here you forego the conventions of grist to liquor ratios and mash in the boiler. This is ok for the small volumes I make (9 litres), but a bigger brew would require some thinking about and dunk sparging. I have dealt with water chemistry tweaks here, so adding brewing salts, I get the water heating up to about 70C.

Once we hit about 70C, I dough in, or add the malt. Mashing usually occurs at temperatures between 64-67C, so that little bit of extra heat accounts of heat loss upon adding the grain. I add the grain into a simple mashing bag.

Here are the malts for this brew, and this is where my first problems lie. A bit of research would suggests pale malt base is usual. Check....there is Maris Otter and Pilsner here, but I saw Vienna, Golden Promise, and a range of other pale malts added to the water. I suppose that all makes sense; Saison was typically a farmhouse brew, and they were not going to get sniffy about the exact malt, although they were largely malted not roasted...far too busy to do this I assume!

However, Steve wanted Carafa and Chocolate Wheat in there. These give colour, but also a nice roasted/chocolate hit. However, since Steve's idea was a bit unconventional, it was difficult to get hold of how much of these malts needed to go in. In the end they came out at about 5% of the malt bill, and this, on reflection was wrong. There is a handful of acid malt in here too, just to get that pH adjusted properly.

And here are the grains, in all their glory, mashing for 90 minutes. The thermal properties of my boiler (and water) are such that I just check on the temperature every 15 minutes and give the water a warm to get back to temperature. It's a bit of a faff, and I could use insulation, but then If I do that I might as well go straight up to full, traditional all- grain brewing.

Once the mash is over, and after a 10 minute mash out, where the temperature is raised just to extract that last bit of goodness, I drain the bag, and start to bring the wort up to a boil, taking a gravity and temperature reading (to correct the calibrated hydrometer)

On boiling, the first hops go in. Again, I was guessing...I used this advice to work out what my bitterness should be, and then just played around with timings and amounts of hops until I got the right IBU figure. Secondly, these hops were new to me. I knew Nelson Sauvin hops, liking them, but I went with Steve's suggestion of the fantastic lemon- lime hit of Motueka for bittering, followed by another addition late on for aroma (along with some Irish Moss to fine, and some yeast nutrient), and a last minute addition of the orange/ floral Pacifica for aroma. These two really did smell different from the bag, so I am hoping I can pick their individual characters out in the final product.

The observant might now be looking at the photo of the hydrometer jar saying "That looks dark for a Saison!", and I would agree. I think I over did the roasted grains, Steve! Anyway, I now tend to cube and leave overnight. So that all done, and I then perform the MOST IMPORTANT bit of a brew day (apart from sanitising stuff), which is clearing up....this is key if you want to be allowed to do it again ;-)

The following day, I took the cooled wart, decanted it into a sterilised fermenter and added the yeast. Regardless of the colour, the hops, the strength etc., it is the yeast that gives these beers their real flavour. I splashed out on a vial White Labs Saison yeast. I got Type I, described as giving earthy, peppery notes, and apparently coming via the legendary Dupont brewery, which makes a notable Saison. The other great thing about these yeast vials is that for my volumes, I pitch straight in. On opening the vial, I have to say that the yeast smelt fantastic. OK, so there is that yeasty hit you always get, but there was something sweet and really pleasant behind it. Certainly has encouraged me to think about brewing a light version now!!

So there you have it....I hope you're satisfied Steve! You made me make a dark, chocolate Saison....I'm not sure I know of one of those. We shall have to wait and see....the unfermented wort is, erm, interesting. It may be that in a week or so you go the way of all dictators, crashing to Earth in tragic delusions of (beer) grandeur....or your tactical beer like genius may take over the World.....

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