American Amber Ale... or not

A few months back I brewed up a wetpak APA, but added significantly more crystal to the mix, and a moderate proportion of cascade about ten minutes before flame-out. At first, this was a delightfully hoppy ale that, if not for the colour and (comparitively) lower hop presence, I would have rated it as a good example of an APA - despite the reasonable amount of kettle-caramelisation present in the background. However, now that the hop presence has worn down, I am finding myself with a superbly malty, caramel brew far more reminiscent of a Southern English Brown. While this isn't exactly what I was trying to achieve - by a long shot - it is still a wonderful brew that I will be trying to replicate again for next winters drinking.

Hic,
TSD

Bottling the pLambic

After two and a half years of fermentation, the portion of pLambic I had set aside on cherries finally found its way into bottles yesterday. I have to say at this stage I am a little dissapointed at the taste. The lambic "funk" is there, with a slight sourness (although not enough for my liking) and some sherry-like quality, and the colour is an astoundingly deep cherry red. Unfortunatley, the colour is about the limit of what the fruit added to this. The cherry flavour is extremely subdued and, in hindsight I really should have thrown a handful of oak chips into the secondary (tertiary?) with the fruit, but I will chalk all of this up to a learning experience... a long, two and a half year learning experience...

Cheers (I think),
TSD

Hopburst APA

Things have been a little quiet on the brewing front these last few weeks but, after realising that the APA I brewed for my brothers up-coming house-warming will likely be consumed prior to the event, I thought a hastily prepared replacement might be in order. Don't ask me why, but I decided upon an APA brewed using a method I had only heard about recently.. the HopBurst.

Essentially, a HopBurst is a brew whereby the hop additions are added in 5 minute lots and boiled for a time not exceeding 30 minutes. Generally, two or three different hop types are used to add complexity to the rather up-front hop flavour and aroma. I decided upon a blend of 2/5 cascade, 2/5 willamette and 1/5 Nelson Sauvin. The downside to this is that you don't get the full efficiency out of your hop isomerisation, therefore you need to use alot more hops in the mix. 210 grams were required for a single 22 litre batch!

I must say it was refreshing to only have to boil the wort for thirty minutes instead of the usual hour and a half treatment, and the aroma coming off this baby was fantastic. Despite all this I was still trying to withhold peals of "I can't believe I am doing this" laughter as I dropped addition after addition of hops into the kettle. Once the batch had cooled and settled sufficiently, I carefully poured the contents of the kettle into the fermenter, trying rather unsuccesfully to leave behind as much of the spent hops as possible. I do say unsuccessfully due to the fact that, prior to pitching the yeast (US-56), there was about an inch of hop powder settling on the bottom of the fermenter.

I could not take an accurate gravity reading due to the above mentioned hop particulate, and the sample tasted quite bitter, but not as offensive as I would have imagined. Either way, it looks like my brothers mates are in for a crash course in hop-appreciation come house-warming time.

Quack,
TSD

On a side note: This gives me a great idea on a Nelson Sauvin Pilsner I have been toying with. Instead of using different bittering and flavour additions and, considering NS's high A.A.%, I might just use a single large NS addition at 20 minutes...

Honeyed Dim-Wit

I have written previously about my love for both Belgian-style ales and the use of honey as an adjunct (or even as the sole source of fermentable sugars. Mmmm... mead). Yesterday, I drank the last glass from a thoroughly enjoyable keg of Honey-Wit. For those of you who don't know, wit beers are typically produced using 50% pilsner grain and 50% raw wheat for the mash. It is a dry, easy drinking style with a tart, spicy finish and a pale, opaque appearance that many people would call white - hence the moniker; "wit". Probably the most famous commercial wits would be Hoegaarden Wit and Celis White - although you don't seem to find many Celis White bottles on the shelf of the local bottlo.

At any rate, my latest wit proved to be another of those classic "flavour evolution" brews - meaning that the taste changed dramatically over the months it was on tap. It started as you would imagine many wits would - spicy and slightly phenolic with a fairly strong sense of both citrus and coriander. Vanilla undertones almost - but not quite - masked a nice tartness in the finish. The marvellous spicy aroma was mostly derived from the coriander and raw wheat, and the colour was a lovely opaque straw. Over the months the cloudiness dissipated and the beer became as bright as any lager. The flavour became somewhat subdued as well, with the aftertaste created by the honey becoming quite dominant. The other dominant flavour that persisted right up to the final glass was the phenolic spiciness, although by this stage any flavour from the orange and coriander had gone the way of the dodo.

All in all I was quite pleased with this brew, and would be happy to try it again someday – but with all the batches I have running through the back of my mind, I am certain it will be a long time before this one sees the inside of the boiler again.

One point to note:- I split this batch into two seperate fermenters, one of which travelled the forty kilometer trip to my fathers house after brew day. While mine turned out quite well, my fathers ended up infected. Now he did describe it to me over the phone as being "cloudy white - almost like Baileys [Irish Cream]"; to which I naturally answered "It's a wit... it's supposed to be cloudy and white." Taking my advice, he chilled and carbonated it and awaited my eventual arrival at his house for a Sunday BBQ. When I got there he poured me a pony-sized serve and smugly handed it over. There within the glass was something I had never seen before. The bottom half was a highly effervescent, crystal clear water-coloured liquid. Floating above this was a thick, creamy like substance that, from a distance looked like a good head, but close up resembled curdled milk. A tentative sip (of the clear liquid underneath) revealed a taste somewhat similar to lemonade - I didn't even try to taste the curdled-milk-head. Needless to say, his half of the batch became lawn-food.

Quack,

TSD

The pLambic Attempt

For many years now I have been fascinated with the sensory explosions associated with Belgian beers. My first experience was with a bottle of Chimay Blue (the small bottle - not the reserve). I was so enraptured by the experience that I promptly set out to try as many different Belgian beers I could find. At the time, finding a Belgian beer in Australia was like trying to find a piece of hay in a stack of needles, but I did meet with limited success. Eventually, I stumbled upon a bottle of Bellevue Kriek, and found what remained my favourite indulgence for many years to come.

Finally, in March 2004, I made my first solo all-grain mash and, throwing all caution (and plenty of advice) to the wind I brewed up a pseudo-Lambic. After following some advice regarding gelatinising the raw wheat prior to mashing, I found I had absolutley no problems with the sparge. I did not have any really old hops on hand that did not smell like a Dutchmans crotch, so I settled for 120 grams of reasonably brown fuggles pellets. After inputing the aging factors, ProMash calculated an IBU of approximately 3, so I knew this wasn't going to be an issue. After a 90 minute boil, this was innoculated with a Wyeast Lambic Blend starter.

After three weeks of primary fermentation, it was racked into a 45 litre stainless cider keg to complete the long secondary. I was able to taste the batch as it aged and was fairly impressed with the flavour evolution as the months turned to years.
Finally, after nearly two and a half years in secondary, I decided it was time to complete the brew. I racked approximately 12 litres to a small glass carbouy on top of some blackberry juice concentrate (100%... none of this Ribena crap), and 20 litres onto roughly 4 kilograms of cherries and a litre of cherry juice concentrate. Both of these were innoculated with some EC-1118 yeast. I am still not sure if this was a mistake, but I didn't want to take the risk of unviable yeast and, since the 1118 is a fairly neutral beast, I thought it would not effect the flavour profile already present in the batch. The remainder of the brew was racked into two 12 litre kegs, one for dispensing and the other to blend with the kriek prior to bottling.

The straight pLambic that I tapped has all the hallmarks of a classic Lambic, albeit a tad subdued for my liking. I really think the Wyeast blend did a good job for what it is, but next time I may just get the seperate cultures and innoculate each at the correct stage. That being said however, I realise that both enteric bacteria and the kloekera strain of yeast play a fairly important part early in the fermentation, but I haven't been able to find a reliable source for these cultures anywhere - let alone locally. However, I don't believe the Wyeast blend contains these critters at any rate.

Either way, I am impressed with how this batch has turned out thus far and am keen to give it a go again. Hmm... maybe a stainless solero with oakchips - four 50 litre kegs should do the trick.

Hic,
TSD