Tag: homebrewing

Past its Prime

Sumerian bappir, reborn. I began with the beginning: the world’s first beer. After baking some Mesopotamian hardtack, I steeped it in hot water, mixed in some dates, added yeast, and forgot about it for a few weeks. A few weeks too long, as it turned out. Sumerian beer is best served fresh. Or better yet, more than fresh: unfinished, even. Unpasteurized, unfiltered, unsanitized—it turned sour fast. Screechingly, cheek-sucking-ly sour. (I’m in good company: Steve Inskeep ran into the same problem in Tunisia. He let his date wine ferment too long, or too hot, or both.)

Before IO-Star, before barrels, before bottles, beer was served straight from the fermenter, sucked through bombilla-like straws to filter out the grain husks and date pits. Think of it like sauerkraut (if you, like me, are the kind of person who thinks about sauerkraut): Beer just sat out, in the open, to be enjoyed as it fermented, and finished before it got too rank. Brewers would whip up a batch and start drinking it as soon as it cooled. The unfermented beer, called wort, was sweet and nutrient-packed. The party picked up over the course of a week or so as wild yeast kicked in and turned those sugars to booze. Thirsty neighbors probably drained the dregs before lactobacteria and other micro-organisms showed up to kill the buzz.

Fresh beer is great; 12,000 years later, it still has its devotees. There’s vinho verde and British cask beer. Kellerbier (flat) and zwickelbier (fresh and foamy) fills Franconian mugs. Bohemians have kvasnicový. The best part of any brewery tour is a sip from the bright tank. The best part of homebrewing is not having to wait.

Big Beers

I’d already written about celebratory homebrew (that wasn’t so celebratory), so for the holidays I decided to go with something more reliable, albeit less historic: giant beer bottles. My picks were arranged, in the paper at least, from smallest to most monumental. Fin du Monde, a house favorite and plenty punchy, seems featherweight compared to Stone’s Double Bastard, which comes in a three-liter totem, complete with a padlocked swing-top cap. You know, so you can’t sneak in a midnight tipple. I thought about sabering off the cap, like they did in the Times, but I didn’t want to waste a drop. This is beer, after all, not Champagne.

Stoaked

When we drove from Brooklyn to California, we took the essentials: brew kettle, fermenters, grains, beer books, a raincoat. Everything else we left in a storage unit. We were just in New York for a week of book promotion, and we visited our unit, flung open the door, and felt that strange relief you feel when absolutely nothing has changed. More specifically: when your barrel of beer hasn’t exploded over all your belongings.

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We Won’t Be Making This at Home

100% Leistung.

Erdinger makes a non-alcoholic beer that they’re marketing as an energy drink. It’s apparently catching on in the American biathlon circuit. The USBA president says it’s “not bad.” This is already the #1 non-alcohol beer in Germany, which I guess is like being the best non-dairy creamer in Wisconsin. It doesn’t seem like the competition is very, er, stiff.

In the U.S., though, alcohol-free beer sales have been steadily falling since O’Doul’s came out in the ’90s. Henry Schuhmacher, editor of Beer Business Daily, has an interesting take on this phenomenon: “Part of the appeal of beer is the ethanol.”