Home Brewing


The Cascades are peeking through! Since I took this photo a week ago, they’ve already grown another foot.

In other homebrewing news, after a very long hiatus, I’ve been tending the kettle once again having recently brewed an Amarillo IPA, dunkelweizen, imperial stout, roggenbier, milk stout, and ordinary bitter. I also just added five pounds of raspberries to my three-year-old lambic, and it’s starting to slowly referment. I’m also taking my first foray into wine with a pinot noir that’s currently fermenting, and I’m planning on a common perry soon, as well. I’ll provide updates as things progress. 

As much as I love my local homebrew supply shop, plunking down my hard-earned cash for bag after bag of vacuum-sealed hops, especially during the expensive years when global harvest yields were poor, has never been high on my list of ways to spend my weekend mornings. 

But while the prospect of becoming completely sustainable as a homebrewer is really just an impractical dream for most of us (I don’t know many people that have space for acres of two-row barley, or a dedicated malting room for that matter), I took one small step closer to this utopian vision over the weekend as I harvested about five pounds of fresh hops from my very own Cascade bine and incorporated some of them into my first wet hop IPA.  

On the subject of harvesting hops…you’d be wise to wear a long-sleeved shirt picking your way through the thorny bines, as I came out of the whole process looking like I got into a fight with a cheese grater with dozens of bloody lacerations all over my forearms. Stung like hell when I washed up at the end of the day. My troubles were worth it, however, as I yielded enough whole hops to nearly fill an entire grocery bag. I plan to dry most of them and store in zip-lock baggies in the freezer for future brews.

For the wet hop IPA, I realized that the hop backbone of my beer would of course still need to be pellet hops, as the nearly 5:1 bittering equivalency between whole hops and dry pellet hops made anything else impossible. Like I’ve done with the past several IPAs that I’ve brewed, I went with a hop bursting technique, basically back-loading all the hops toward the end of the boil. I’ve had great success with this technique, getting a much more pronounced yet smooth bitterness.

As far as what approach to take in using these fresh hops, it dawned on me that one way to go about this would be to repurpose my mash tun as a glorified hop back, essentially recirculating the hot wort through the bed of hops to draw out the wonderful lupulin. I’m sure it would’ve worked fine, and I believe this is basically how some pro brewers do it, but in the end I opted to keep it relatively simple and just buy two nylon straining bags and steep the hops for about ten minutes at flameout so as not to drive off any of the precious acids that contribute that fresh, dank aroma to the finished beer.

Here’s the recipe I went with:

Single infusion mash, 152 degrees for 60 minutes
O.G. 1.067
F.G. 1.017
ABV 6.5%
IBU 153 (so says the online calculator I used)
SRM 13

10 lbs Maris Otter
1 lb Caramel 40
0.5 lb Caramel 80
0.5 lb Victory
2 oz Columbus pellet hops (@20 minutes left in boil)
2 oz Chinook pellet hops (@15 minutes left in boil)
2 oz Centennial pellet hops (@10 minutes left in boil)
2 oz Cascade pellet hops (@5 minutes left in boil)
12 oz Cascade whole hops from my own hop yard (@flame out, let steep for 10 minutes)
Safale US-05

Within the past couple of weeks, hundreds of hop cones have emerged from my Cascade bine…I can already taste the fresh hop ale!

Yes, I am still here. Just haven’t had the time/motivation to pay this blog the attention it needs with other priorities at the moment. But I did want to show off how my hops have been doing so far this summer, particularly the Cascades which have really flourished in their third year. They’re just starting to flower, so I’d expect within a couple weeks these bines will be brimming with beautiful hop cones. And, I think I was able to recruit someone to help me out with the harvest…

Life has been a bit chaotic the past several months between a very busy work schedule, helping raise our very active 15-month-old daughter, and once again battling poorly designed crib assembly instruction manuals as we eagerly expect our second daughter any day now. Not surprisingly, this blog has suffered.

While I haven’t been writing much, I have been able to carve out the occasional time to enjoy a beer or two, and I’ve also managed to brew a couple nice beers here and there including what I’m calling Freedom Stout, an homage to my wife who will soon be able to re-join me in the ranks of craft beer aficionados once we deliver our baby.

In the winter, I’m rarely able to get out into the garage for an all-grain brewing session, usually too cold with a detached garage, so I tend to do more extracts in the comfort of my kitchen. In thinking of Freedom Stout, I was inspired by my friend Eric’s (aka Bearded Brewer’s) Stout Chocula homebrew which he recently wrote about, as well as one of my perennial favorites Founders Breakfast Stout. I wanted to brew a more sessionable stout in the 5% ABV range that didn’t bowl you over with booze, but still gave you some of the nice roasty qualities along with some coffee and chocolate undertones. Think Guinness meets Surly Coffee Bender.

I decided to use Midwest Supplies’ Peace Coffee Java Stout recipe kit as a foundation (more out of convenience), making some personal tweaks and adjustments to get to the beer I wanted. I brewed the beer a few weeks ago, which I’d characterize as an oatmeal coffee chocolate stout, and kegged it last night. It really turned out fantastic. Here’s the recipe I went with for the 5 gallon batch:

From the Midwest Supplies Peace Coffee Java Stout kit:
   6 lbs. Dark LME
   8 oz. Chocolate Malt (steeped at 152 for 30 min)
   4 oz. Flaked Barley (steeped at 152 for 30 min)
   4 oz. Caramel 60L (steeped at 152 for 30 min)
   4 oz. Roasted Barley (steeped at 152 for 30 min)
   1/2 oz. Challenger pellet hops (in boil at 60 min)
   1 oz. Tettnang pellet hops (in boil at 5 min)
   4 oz. Peace Coffee whole beans (ground and cold-pressed in 48 oz. of water, added to secondary)

Stuff I added:
   8 oz. flaked oats (steeped at 152 for 30 min)
   2 oz. black patent (steeped at 152 for 30 min)
   4 oz. cocoa nibs (secondary)
   Wyeast 1275 Thames Valley

60 minute boil
O.G. 1.046
Fermented at 68 degrees F for 14 days
F.G. 1.010
Racked to secondary with cold-pressed coffee and cocoa nibs for 4 days (appeared to be a very minor refermentation in secondary, I’m guessing thanks to the cocoa nibs)

Two years in the ground, and my hop bines are finally starting to show some production.

At the beginning of the growing season, I transferred my three bines to a sunnier location in the backyard beneath an existing clothesline pole that I planned to use as the backbone of my trellis system. I trained the bines to grow vertically, using some metal garden stakes and strong twine to create a simple support structure tied to the top of the seven foot pole. From the pole, I then ran a series of thick pieces of clothesline to my garage, providing about 25 feet of additional runway for the bines to grow horizontally.

The idea seemed to work well, as the longest of the Cascade plant’s two stalky trunks has grown to about 18 feet so far this year. Small hop flowers are beginning to emerge from the winding runners, with a few legitimate cones taking shape. It’s a pretty cool feeling knowing that I’ll be able to harvest these guys and use in one of my own beers before the end of the year, perhaps in a fresh “wet hop” style pale ale.

Unfortunately, the Fuggle and Horizon bines haven’t fared as well, only reaching five or six feet with no flower production, which is in line with their growth last year. In fact, the Fuggle bine looks like it is nearly dead, with most of its yellowed leaves withered away to the point where it now more closely resembles Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.

I haven’t done a ton of research into it, but I suspect these species may be more temperamental than Cascade, as I really didn’t do much in the way of fertilizing (thus the yellowed leaves, likely an iron deficiency), and I watered only occasionally when Mother Nature hadn’t provided recent moisture. Anyone else growing these hops with any luck?

Some pictures from the weekend:

Hello friends, it’s been a while. My apologies for letting this little beer-soaked corner of the Internet go to seed. But I think I’m back, at least more regularly than I have been of late. 

Since brewing a traditional hefeweizen back in March (which turned out fantastic, despite a mucky sparge), it had been nearly five months since I broke out the mash tun and brew kettles, by far my longest hiatus since I began ardently home brewing about five years ago. So I went back to the recipe vault to pick something well-suited for the coming fall season, with football and leaf raking around the corner.

After some debate between a saison (which is still on the agenda in the near future) and a pumpkin beer (again, something I’ll do soon), I opted for a fairly standard brown ale, probably a little more American in attitude than your traditional English Northern or Southern varieties thanks to the somewhat aggressive hop schedule. The genesis of the recipe itself, which some of you may recognize, comes from the Surly AHA Rally wort provided by Todd Haug, with some minor variations. It’s the same general recipe I employed for my Wild Rice Brown brewed earlier in the year, minus the wild rice, and I also backed off on some of the base malt this time around to try and bring the alcohol down a bit.

Here’s what I went with:

OG: 1.058
FG: 1.015
IBU: 43

ABV: 5.5%
SRM: 16

Single infusion mash at 152 degrees F
Boil Volume: 6.5 gallons
Batch size: 5 gallons

8 lbs. Castle Pale Ale Malt
12 oz. Brown Malt
4 oz. Caramel 80
4 oz. Caramel 120
1 lb. Brown Sugar
1 oz. Willamette (60 min)
1 oz. Willamette (30 min)
1 oz. Columbus (2 min)
Wyeast 1335 British Ale II

The brew day itself went fine, however I think I collected the wort too quickly (about 20 minutes) as my efficiency was horrendous. I missed the mark on the OG pretty dramatically, coming in at 1.040, which will likely put this beer at the 4% ABV range after it ferments out. Technical failings aside, it’s not a big deal in my opinion, as it should make for a more sessionable beer.

As if the excitement of brewing my first beer in ages wasn’t enough, I also invested in a new digital temperature controller that allowed me to convert my basement refrigerator into a fermentation chamber. It was stupidly simple to set up, and I’m now in full control of my temperature settings instead of leaving fermentation in the whimsical hands of Mother Nature depending on how hot or cold the ambient air in my house happens to be.

With this newfound control, I’m planning to brew an Oktoberfest this coming weekend, my first attempt at a lager. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I think I learned what it is to be a patient man this evening.

Toward the end of the work day I caught the brewing bug, and after some quick recipe formulation I settled on a fairly standard Bavarian hefeweizen recipe, using half malted white wheat, some pils, and Munich for a bit of character. I also opted for a couple ounces of German Tettnanger hops to help balance things out, although with this beer the defining characteristic certainly comes from the Weihenstephan yeast strain that will deliver a fragrant banana and clove aroma. Amidst all of this, I had the foresight (or so I thought) to add some rice hulls, considering what I already knew about the gummy nature of wheat in the mash and how long sparging can take with this kind of grist.

After more than an hour sparge with less than half my brew kettle filled, I felt like giving up watching the torturously slow trickle of wort dribbling out of the tun. I didn’t actually get boiling until nearly 10 p.m., long after I’d started the process. What should have been a pleasant after work brewing experience turned into a tiring brew night. But that’s the way homebrewing goes some times. On the plus side, I had plenty of time to destroy nearly every microbe in my house sanitizing the hell out of all my brewing equipment.

Here’s the recipe I went with:

Single infusion mash at 152 degrees for 60 minutes
Boil volume: 6.5 gallons
Boil time: 60 minutes
Batch size: 5 gallons

OG: 1.053
FG: 1.013
ABV: 5.1%
IBU: 19
SRM: 7

5 lbs Malted White Wheat
4 lbs Pilsner
1 lb Munich
0.5 lb Rice Hulls
0.5 oz Tettnanger (4.8% AA) @ 60
1 oz Tettnanger (4.8% AA) @ 30
0.5 oz Tettnanger (4.8% AA) @ 2
Wyeast 3068 Weihenstephan Weizen

Hops can be a beautiful thing. Bitter, floral, and full of life. In fact, one of my greatest-ever fresh hop experiences took place one day on a golf course in St. Paul…at the turn I bought a hot dog and a Summit EPA on draught from a newly tapped keg. I took one sip, and the hops just exploded off the beer. I promptly threw away the uneaten dog, as there was no sense in confusing my palate. I wanted to completely enjoy the freshest tasting beer I had have ever come across.  

But we’ve all heard it before… 

“Nice IPA, but it’s been on the shelf for a few months and the hops have really faded.” 

I’ve certainly noticed this phenomenon in commercial beers, as well as my own home brew, and don’t doubt that many styles such as pale ales, IPAs and some lagers really do benefit from being enjoyed as freshly as possible to get that true hop bite and wonderful bouquet. On the flipside, other styles such as barleywines can benefit from aging to let the hops mellow out and fade into the malty background over time. 

But what’s the science behind it all? How much DO hops really fade over time? Does age have more impact on aroma, or does it also affect bitterness? At what point do hops start taking a noticeable nose dive…a couple weeks? a month? longer?

To try and find some answers, I first turned to Ken Grossman, founder of Sierra Nevada and one of the pioneers of the craft beer industry in this country. Sierra Nevada’s Pale Ale is considered by most to be the protoypical hoppy American ale, a hop bomb in its day that helped define an entire category and pave the way for literally thousands of other American-style pale ales and IPAs over the past several decades. Starting in 2002, the brewery began growing nearly three acres of hops on its own grounds, primarily focused on Cascade and Chinook used exclusively in their Estate Ale series, with a more recent four acre addition in 2008 that has made room for some experimental varieties.

According to Grossman, hop degradation is a complex mix of variables, at an early stage determined by how the hop was grown and handled prior to brewing.

“We actually have been focusing on hop aroma analysis and hop chemistry for many years, and have devoted significant resources in this area,” Grossman said. “Just to name a few variables, the crop year and harvest maturity can have a great influence. If you are using dried hops – rather than fresh picked  – kilning methods and temperature will have some influence on aroma. Storage conditions after harvest will also change the aroma characteristics greatly. Some of the ‘noble’  aromas in European hops are thought to be from warm storage and oxidation directly after harvest, and some types of hops develop ‘cheesy’ off flavors if not stored cold.”

Once hops are used in the brewing process, a whole different set of complex variables come into play. The bittering and aromatic characteristics of hops come from resins in the hop flower, which are made up of alpha and beta acids. Different hop varieties have different levels of each acid, making some more desirable for bittering as the alpha acids are isomerized in the brew kettle, and others better for lending a floral nose thanks to the beta acids left behind after boiling. 

“From addition times in the kettle, dry hopping, loss of oils from different fermentation temperatures,  and fermenter design, the list of variables impacting aroma and bitterness goes on and on,” said Grossman. “But in a nutshell fresh hops are better in our opinion, if you are looking for lots of clean robust aroma.”

Tom Nielsen, Sierra Nevada’s senior research analyst focused on hop degradation, says that their research has shown that after about two and a half to three months, hop aroma in a packaged beer, derived mainly from beta acids in the hop flower, has already started to diminish significantly. It’s a sentiment backed by Patrick Langlois at Great Divide in Denver, brewers of notable hoppy beers including their Fresh Hop Pale Ale, Titan IPA, and Hercules Double IPA. “Hops tend to dissipate in three to four months, which is why that is the recommended shelf life for most of our beers.” 

According to Nielsen, agitation during shipping can be a significant contributing factor to degradation in aroma. As a beer sits on delivery trucks and eventually finds it way to your local liquor store, the beer’s aromas can be kicked up through the head space and slowly forced out of the crown liner, a process Sierra Nevada refers to as scalping. Nielsen also says oxygen will destroy hop aroma very quickly, whether naturally over time, or through the bottling process.

“We’ve found the hop aroma of a fresh beer shipped overnight from Boston compared to the same beer that just sat here  in Chico was very much reduced,” said Nielsen.  “This degradation doesn’t noticeably impact bitterness. But since aroma plays a significant role in your perception of taste, it can greatly influence your overall enjoyment of the beer.”

Gerri Kustelski, director of quality assurance at Summit Brewing in St. Paul, agrees.

“Organoleptically, there may well be discernable changes,” Kustelski said. “Bitterness can be masked by oxidation and aging, and aroma even more so.  You begin to slowly lose the aroma imparted by dry hopping fairly quickly, possibly within several weeks.  Packaging and distribution processes including shipping and temperature control can affect the flavor stability of beer and, thus, affect the perception of hop aromas and bitterness.” 

The relative levels of alpha and beta acid compounds in a packaged beer also lends perspective to how sensitive and fragile hops can be.

“Aroma compounds are typically measured in parts per billion, compared to bittering compounds which are evaluated in parts per million,” Nielsen said. “If you lose half of your aroma compounds through agitation in shipping, that’s a much more dramatic degradation compared to bitterness. When you’re talking about aging a beer for many years, like our BigFoot Barleywine, the bitterness will eventually fade and change character, but generally speaking aroma is the first component to quickly fall out.”

Once the beer does arrive at your local bottle store or watering hole, some retailers take extra steps to ensure their beer loving customers are able to enjoy the product as closely as possible to how the brewer intended it.

“We certainly do take extra steps to make sure the beer you buy is as good as it can be,” said Jason Alvey, owner of The Four Firkins in St. Louis Park. “We keep the store as cold as we can so even the beer that is not refrigerated is nice and cool. We eliminate sunlight and filter all our lights for U.V. which can of course create a chemical reaction with the hop acids and skunk the beer. But by far the one thing that has the biggest effect is product turnover. We do not have beer that sits around on our shelves for months and months, so the beer you buy from us is as fresh as it can be. Unless of course you are buying a vintage beer that has been carefully aged in one of our climate controlled cellar fridges!”

The bottom line: if you’re interested in getting that full-on, hoppy experience in both aroma and flavor, heed the advice of many hop heads out there. Fresh really is best.

The first ever Beer Blogger Brew-Off is in the books, and a good time was had by all.

The quality of the beers brewed by the participants was incredible. It was clear these guys have spent many years perfecting their craft, and it was equally impressive how distinctly unique each beer was considering everyone changed only one ingredient from the base recipe we all used. Here’s what everyone went with:

My secret ingredient, which I didn’t really keep a closely guarded secret, was lactose, making my beer a nice milk stout. You can check out the recipe and brewday here. After my beer fermented out, I kegged half the batch for a New Year’s party, and split the rest off into a carboy for bottling at a later date. The beer from the keg was fantastic — chocolatey, roasty, and milky sweet. I would have had more than two glasses of it, but my friends had other ideas and decided to drink it all too quickly.

Here’s where the story gets grim…after bottling and shipping my beers to the brew-off participants, we settled in for the sampling, and it quickly became clear something was a little off when everyone cracked my bottles. A mildly sour aroma crept up on us, not completely off-putting (and in fact some friends have said they enjoy it) but not exactly what I was aiming for, either. The likely culprit? Bacteria from sanitation issues during the bottling process.

I’m a meticulous sanitizer…in most cases I think I probably overdo it (if that’s even possible). And I know this kind of thing can happen occasionally to the best of us. But frankly, it was a little embarrassing.

After sampling everyone’s beers, we informally declared local beer blogger Derek the brew-off winner with his molasses stout, a fantastically rich, full-bodied beer. Very well done. And I’m happy to say he left me with a sixer for my longer term enjoyment.

If you’re interested in hearing the entire brew-off discussion recorded by Peter at Simply Beer,  listen to the podcast here. Already looking forward to the next brew-off!

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