So I’m reading the news about Josh Hancock obsessively. It’s just so shocking… I have the yankees/red sox game on mute for no particular reason and all I can hear is the trafffic outside and the pop, pop, pop, of my fermenting “esb but not really” (seriously, I think I’m going to call it that) in the dining room.

Wondering why I’d call it “esb but not really”? And why I’m super-glad it actually IS fermenting? Well, for more details check out my IM convo with Leah the other day. Everyone needs a Leah (and Russ, as you’ll see) to help them out when they majorly screw up their brewing:

me: yo leah, I screwed up brewing last night – when you’re back I wonder if you could tell me how bad it is that I put in an extra, cough cough, couple pounds of malt extract in

Leah: HEE!!! also, oops
I’m sorry
I’m guessing that it will just make it far higher in alcohol. Your balance will probably be off too – it might not be hoppy enough. When you rack it, taste it. You could probably dry-hop it and turn it into an IPA or something. Russ would probably have better ideas too…
what was the style supposed to be?
me: esb
Leah: hmm. that’s at least still an english style if you do decide to IPA it
I’ll ask Russ
me: thank you! I can’t believe I was so dumb, just poured in the whole bottle of malt without thinking about it
Leah: so how much extra did you add?
me: gawd I’m an idiot. Recipe called for 4 lbs of liquid malt extract and 3.25 lbs of DME – I added 6 of liquid and 3 of DME
Leah: Russ asked if it’s fermenting yet
me: Wasn’t when I left this morning
I’m sure it will be by the time I’m home
I would have called you last night, but this happened around midnight and I thought you might not appreciate it
Leah: yeah. I was kinda asleep
me: Ah well, it’s not the end of the world if it’s messed up anyway
Leah: Russ is looking some stuff up
me: you guys are so great
Leah: Brewing is an awesome hobby
“She probably added 16 gravity points for a ten-gallon batch, so if she was shooting for 1054 (typical of an ESB), she’d probably hit 1070, which is why I’d worry about the yeast getting started.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the yeast yet. That’s sort of borderline for not using a starter, so it might just take a little longer to get going. A little more risk of infection, but not much.”
“As far as the recipe goes, however, I think she’s stuck. I’d just call it an “imperial bitter.” Dry-hopping it with something like Kent Goldings might give it a little more complexity and the illusion of bitterness.”
me: is this all russ?
Leah: yep
does that help at all?
me: yes it does. I would just dry hop into the secondary?
I’ve never done that before
thanks so much for this
Leah: of course – yeah, dry hopping in secondary
Now, IF you have a yeast issue, you might need a differnet yeast. I’m not very up on that, so let me know if fermentation doesn’t start fairly soon (48 hours)
we’ll look into it
me: the smack pack was absolutely huge by the time I pitched, so if any yeast would work, I feel like this one would. I’ve never had a pack that big before
Leah: geez
me: I don’t know if that’s good logic
Leah: that sounds a litle scary

I was too scared to try the Kolsch for almost a whole week after it was ready, but last night I plucked up the courage (the fact that I’d already consumed 1/2 a bottle of wine helped a great deal). I don’t know why I was so scared – the Forsch Kolsch may be my best brew yet! Just in case you’d like to see my birthday-centric label for it:

I’m thinking I’m going to give a whole bunch away on Monday night at the Deweys cardinals-watching party. How can I not, with a name and label like this?

So this morning I transferred the Kolsch over to the secondary. No major problems, although the beer was hazier than I liked. I even tasted it, and if I do say so myself: YUM!

As I was siphoning, an idea came to me. A wonderful, awful idea.

My roommate is out of town for the next few days, and the refrigerator is nearly empty. “Hmm!” I thought. “Lagering the Kolsch!”

But first I had to call Leah to see if this would actually do any good. She told me without hesitation that refrigeration would help with both crispness and clarity (and was actually called “cold conditioning”, not lagering. Who knew?). So without further ado, I took the shelves out of refrigerator and put in my carboy.

So a poll: if your roommate took over the refrigerator for brewing purposes while you were out of town, would you flip? Suzannah is pretty laid back, so I’m inclined to say no. Plus, she never cooks. But still. I think I may have gone over the edge?

No, this isn’t my personality I’m referring to – it’s my airlock!

Actually, it’s interesting that I have this problem, because I neglected to properly “smack” my “smack pack” and wasn’t AT ALL certain that my yeast was viable anyway. I called Leah in a panic, and she was her cool and collected self, as usual, telling me to wait it out and order another yeast if need be. But apparently the “smack pack” doesn’t necessarily need to be smacked, because the yeast was just fine. Here’s how the thing looked this morning (the red airlock cap actually POPPED OFF when I was in the room!):

This hasn’t ever happened to me before and I got a little panicky. I immediately got busy sanitizing and switched the airlock to a blowoff tube. A tube which, ten minutes later, is already bubbling like mad, too:

Well, I guess hyperactive fermentation is a better problem to have than no fermentation at all, right?

Anyway, other than the yeast going postal, yesterday went beautifully well, brewing-wise. I have some lingering doubts (the color of the beer seems a little too light, for one thing) but I’m going to stop thinking about it for now.

My roommate John saw my Holiday Carboy and thought that it looked so cozy, it a little something else – a book to read! See below:

I’m bottling today – wish me luck!

Well, I’m feeling better about the brew than I did last night, because the Irish Red (which I haven’t actually named yet, but I’m leaning towards “Irish Redbird”) seems to be merrily fermenting away. Will wonders never cease? Maybe I didn’t mess up as much as I thought I did.

To ‘fess up to these mistakes:

1. I steeped the grains for an hour, checking and adjusting the temperature every few minutes. After which I noticed that I’d been looking at the CELSIUS temperatures rather than fahrenheit. So instead of a comfy 160 degrees, I’d been steeping the grain in 145-55 degree liquid the whole time. A bit like putting a tea bag in ice water, I guess… Brilliant, ju. Honestly, this mistake has caused me to agonize over my idiotic idiocy for most of the day today.
2. Whatever. Moving along. The rest of the brew went fine, and my sister and I worked together to become a sort of BFG tag team to pour the wort into the carboy. All seemed to go well, but the wort looked a little, uh, bubbly in the carboy. Whatever – I poured in my water and realized that the permanent marker line for five gallons had disappeared. Oh, criminy. I didn’t even know how much water to pour in! AND THE DAMN THING WAS WAAAAAY BUBBLY.
3. After making my best guess as to how much water to pour in, I shook up the yeast vial and opened it to pitch. Apparently I shook it a little too vigorously, because the dumb thing exploded with foam as soon as I twisted off the cap. I would guess at least 3/4 of the yeast (hey that rhymed!) got into the carboy, but a little bit certainly did not. Sigh. That, along with the inexplicable bubbles, meant that I did not feel good about this brew. I’d been careful about sanitizing, sure, but I clearly wasn’t careful about ANYTHING ELSE.

Anyway, whatever. It’s fermenting and I should quit whining, right?

To explain the post title: my apartment gets pretty cold. I was so nervous about the beer that I wrapped it up in our Christmas blanket and stuck it near a heating pipe to keep cozy warm. And it’s working! And for your enjoyment, the christmas carboy of love (TM):

“All by myself… Don’t wanna be… All by myself!” (Sorry. So sorry. I couldn’t help it.)

Oh yes, I brewed tonight, and this time it was without the resident brewmaster Kev (he’s busy buying xmas presents or something). I was in charge, suckas, and took no prisoners. Unsurprisingly, my first solo pitch was somewhat of a fiasco. (Well, not necessarily – if the brew turns out to be drinkable, I’ll label the evening a RAGING TOWERING SHOCKING AND WONDERFUL TRIUMPH. I wonder if I’m ever going to get over this “Oh god will I even be able to drink it?” fear…)

But there were challenges I didn’t expect, things I didn’t think about beforehand, thermometer troubles, and let’s not forget the spillage. On the other hand, I think I actually managed to take the hydrometer reading (or whatever it’s called), so there’s something, at least. IF I read the thing right, it was a 1.100 reading. But I have no idea if I actually managed to read the thingy right. I’m the girl who has thermometer troubles, remember?

I took a couple pictures and will post more stories tomorrow.

So Kev and I finally brewed up the gingerbread ale (which I’ll be calling “Pontipee Ale” in honor of my family’s favorite christmas movie) the other night. Here’s me brewing:

We had a lot of fun this time around. I wonder if brewing is one of those activities that’s substantially less fun if I’m doing it all by myself? (Ok, I’m not worried about the “fun” part as much as the “heavy lifting” part. Kevin has to keep coming over so that I can avoid buying dumbbells.) Anyway, everything went well, I believe. The spring water we were adding to the carboy didn’t get very cold in the refrigerator, so we had to chill the wort for longer than I’d have liked in its ice bath and get it all the way down to 90 degrees. I think everything went OK otherwise, though.

I think it’s going to be a very strongly spiced ale – I only put in a total of about two teaspoons of cinnamon, ginger, allspice and cloves, but their taste was OVERPOWERING when added to the wort. Of course, that will be added to three more gallons of water, but still. As Leah said, if it’s too strong for this christmas, I’ll just have to save it for next year!

The fermentation seems to be going brilliantly. I think it’s bubbling more intensely than the wheat beer did, although the fact that I’m using an airlock rather than a blowoff tube may have something to do with that impression.

One more thing: I ordered a large jug of iodine from Northern Brewer for sanitation purposes. What I didn’t know was that you only need one tiny capful for each batch. I’d assumed that the sanitation would require several tablespoons each time (like the oxygen cleanser did). Guess not. So I’ve got a HUGE bottle of iodine that will probably last me about 30 batches. Hee. Here’s Kevin holding the bottle.

Geez, no wonder I get so sappy about Budweiser. With marketing like this, how could a Cardinals fan resist? (And I know this goes against my entire previous post. I’m fickle like that.) Cheeseball, but effective.

Leah, look away. You’re already feeling sick; I refuse to be responsible for any more horkage.

Ok, I think there are exactly two people who read this blog, but if you’re not Leah or Danyah, then here’s a little newsflash for you: I am from St. Louis, Missouri. I. LIKE. BUDWEISER.

I don’t care if it’s tacky, or illustrates bad taste on my part. I LIKE IT. I’ve been proud of it since I was a kid. It reminds me of home, of growing up in St. Louis, of Cardinals games on hot summer days in old Busch, of being desperately lonely and homesick in Ireland one day and crying with relief at tasting my hometown brew, of the five million A-B brewery tours I’ve taken, of my first taste of beer at my sister’s wedding (I was 15), of Grant’s Farm, of Soulard, of the light and easy drink that got me hooked on beer in the first place. And so on. No matter how much beer I have in my life, I’m going to continue drinking Budweiser on occasion. Not to say I’ll drink it exclusively or argue that this is the ONLY beer people should drink, but I honestly think there’s a place for Budweisers in this world, and it’s not all just marketing.

Another story: when I originally told Leah I was interested in learning more about beer, we had the following IM convo:

Me: Leah, I’m so obsessed with beer lately, I want to learn everything
Leah: ooh, I can help
Me: Yeah, but how? But where should I start?
Leah: well, do you want to just know more about drinking? or do you want to start brewing eventually?
Me: Ummm, hmm. I would love to learn how to brew, but I don’t think I have the time or money or space for that yet. For now I want to learn enough so that I’ll be able to decide what I like and am interested in brewing down the road
Leah: get these books
http://www.amazon.com/Radical-Brewing-Recipes-World-Altering-Meditations/dp/0937381837
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0812930355?v=glance
and frequent this website
http://beeradvocate.com/
Me: Ok, but I’m not going to stop drinking budweiser at cardinals games, nothing you can say will make me stop
Leah: don’t worry – i drink old style when necessary
me: hee
Leah: but those 3 things (and reading our beer blog!) will get you started

Notice my primary concern upon admitting I was going to learn more about beer? It was the idea that I’d have to give up Budweiser and become a snob about beer if I learned anything about it. Luckily, I have a tutor as laid back as Leah (didn’t you do a blog post on old style vs. budweiser at some point, Leah?) who assured me that I wouldn’t have to do anything of the sort. Leah wouldn’t be too keen on the idea that she was even indirectly supporting Anheuser Busch (hey, Leah is indirectly indirectly supporting the Cardinals! Isn’t that sweet?), but I believe she does support freedom in beer choice. Which was my original concern, and the point of this entry.

Now I know what you’re thinking. “Man, she is DEEEEEEEE-FEN-SIVE! Perhaps the lady doth protest too much?”

Well, maybe. But the reason for my outburst at the moment is because I went to my first beer function, and as is to be expected, I bristled like a porcupine when a beer snob I met started ranting and raving about Budweiser (and by extension, the entire “immature” american beer palate and the ridiculous power of marketing, etc – this guy was British and kept going on about the savvy British taste in beer). Sigh. I don’t want to pretend to be the lone crusader supporting Budweiser. It would be like trying to be the lone supporter of Microsoft or Starbucks or McDonalds – life just doesn’t work that way. I mean, even calling Bud my “hometown brew” as I (sentimentally) did above is inviting mockery.

But neither do I want to have to defend myself every single time the topic comes up in conversation. And I don’t want to skip fun beer tasting events because I’m concerned about sounding like an idiot. Budweiser is like my comfort food. To paraphrase a cliche: “If loving crappy beer from St. Louis is wrong, I don’t want to be right!”

So can I feel that way and still be a savvy homebrewer? I don’t really know. Ask me again after my next homebrew meeting…