American IPA

There’s a foamy meniscus in an imperial pint that divides bitters from pale ales.

Terry Foster, AHA style book author, points to the dissipation of that line during the more than 300 year evolution of the drink. The comparison of bitter vs. pale is often owed to little more than which side of the Atlantic a brewer calls home. Though, at times of fluctuating commercial popularity, the pale style stands with solid body, head & hopping; never adulterated with spiking agents like porter, nor degraded with adjuncts as Pilsener in America. Read more

Kellerbier time

One beautiful afternoon a while ago now I had several beers in the Biergarten across the road from the brewery in Aying.

Sitting under a chestnut tree in a quiet Bavarian village and watching the sun set in the Alps over half-liter mugs of cloudy, incredibly fresh lagers pretty much ruined me forever. The bottled and draft beers available in the States are world-class and I’ve always been an Ayinger fan, but the unfiltered draft pours of Naturtrub Hell and Altbairisch Dunkel at Liebhard’s spoke of an immediate connection to the land that seems to get lost in translation when bright beer goes through a filter: agrarian-associative smells of dairy farms, cheese from grass-fed cows, and new-mown hay layered under the bready malt and earthy hop, a whiff of the lager tank.

That’s Kellerbier, citizens – preach it, now: evocative of the land, a beer of the moment, complex and alive.

Unfiltered and unpasteurized, young, and (usually) served on draft with low carbonation … hey, this is British real ale, right? Same idea, but with traditional Bavarian session lagers. Soft and malty just like you’d expect from a standard-issue Muenchner Helles or Dunkel, but yeast-hazy instead of crystal clear, and a little on the flat side instead of sprightly effervescent. Somewhat hard to find in the states, but any Ausschank worth its Semmelknoedel from Aufsess to die Zugspitze will set you up with a ceramic mass of this murky delight.

I was hooked. I had to try it. You can too. Homebrew is almost by definition unpasteurized and unfiltered, so that’s no problem. If you have a keg system, awesome. If you don’t, hey – there’s bottled Kellerbier too (still wish I had had more room in my suitcase for swing-tops of the Hacker-Pschorr Anno 1417) … just go easy on the priming sugar and treat it like you would an English session ale: you want it kinda flat. You do need to ferment it cold though – definitely no higher than 60 F with a lager yeast. Wy2112 is the next best thing if you need to ferment above 60.

I make no claims to authenticity, and YMMV; this just is how I do it:

Kellerbier Nr. 1 – 5 gallons AG

  • 8 lbs German Pils malt *
  • 6 oz Weyermann Carafoam
  • 0.75 oz Tradition (5.2%, pellets) – first wort hop
  • 0.25 oz Saaz (3%, pellets) – 15″
  • White Labs WLP833 German Bock, 2 liter starter **

Mash – 128 for 20″, 149 for 30″, 158 for 30″, mashout. 60 minute boil with kettle finings at 15″ if you’re into that sort of thing (I am!), chill to fermentation temps, aerate and pitch yeast. Ferment at 55 F for 14 days. Rack to a keg and store at 55 F for two weeks. Pressurize with CO2 and dispense.

* – extract brewers can sub 6 lbs of Northern Brewer Pilsen malt syrup and do a full-wort boil

** – Wyeast 2487 Hella-bock is an extremely excellent alternative when it’s available

Yeast selection is pretty critical to the success of this technique: if you enjoy the smell and taste of struck-match, rotten-egg farts, you will probably enjoy Kellerbiers produced with Wy2308 or WLP838 (both of which, by the way, make spectacular, non-farty Munich-style lagers when given a proper secondary fermentation and lagering phase).

And now, two weeks after racking – no diacetyl rest, no lagering phase, and at the princely age of 28 whole days – we evaluate:

Get your nose in there: it’s complex. Flowery, malt-driven fruitiness with wet malted grain, wet hay, herbs, honey, rising bread dough, buttered fresh bread, dried clementines, and a whiff of yeasty sulfur.

The look of it is straw yellow and turbid with a dense stand of white glass-lacing foam.

The flavor delivers on all the promise of the nose. Floral, super-fresh malt with a hint of yeasty sulfur tang at the end. Tastes sweet but finishes dry. A suggestion of earthy, herbal hops permeates.

Mouthfeel-wise, it seems much creamier and rounder than the FG of 1.010 suggests (low carbonation enhances that impression); the dryness is all in the aftertaste.

Prosit, amigos!

Hops you’re not using but should be

Palisade. Palisade Palisade Palisade.

Brought to you by the hombres of Yakima Chief, who also brought you Simcoe and Warrior (you like Simcoe and Warrior, right?). Parentage includes Swiss Tettnanger (and you like the Swiss, right? They brought us Samichlaus). It’s an aroma variety, but its alpha levels are respectable enough for light to moderate bittering duty. Read more

WLP037: Parting is such sweet wort

Know what sucks about Limited Edition/Platinum/Private Collection series yeast strains? They’re here long enough for you to learn to love them, then they’re gone. Out of your life. Pffft.

Case in point: the porter I’m drinking right now. My goodness, but it’s dense and full-bodied, not a bit too much CO2, bready and toasty and chocolatey, an almost creamy mouthfeel … aspirations to oatmeal stout but with the soul of a dark mild. Credit where credit is due: WLP037 Yorkshire Square Ale.

Oh, it was a unicellular stallion … blew hoppy floccs all over the carboy during primary, settled right out in secondary and left the beer the most lucid garnet color. Repitched it into an English strong, which is right now getting the real ale treatment in a keg with some isinglass, priming sugar, and Styrian Goldings.

And then the 037 was gone. Sold out, off the shelves. No word when it’d be back. No goodbye; maybe it’s easier that way.

Good thing I washed the yeastcake … something to remember it by. Hello, Yorkshire Square Ordinary!

Finnish your beer

Ahh … sahti . It’s like drinking a Christmas tree. F or those of you who may be rye-curious, here’s one way to craft a pint of piney cheer:

Kalevala Sahti: the recipe
(five gallons)

  • 9 lbs Munich 40 EBC
  • 9 lbs malted rye
  • 1 lbs flaked oats
  • 1 lb rice hulls
  • 1 oz Northern Brewer pellets (mash hop)
  • 2 lbs (approx) fresh, non-chemically sprayed juniper branches (watch out for Xmas wreaths, y’all)
  • Wyeast 1007

Kalevala Sahti: the process

Layered juniper branches over false bottom in mash tun; add grist, mash hops, and strike water.

Step mashed with rests at 90, 120, 150, and 160 F. Ran the wort off and let cool overnight (if it’s -20 F air temp, you’ll be authentically Finnish). Pitched yeast the following morning. Fermented at 68 F for about 8 days … then kegged. Yup, she’s boozy, yeasty, and ready to drink.

Kalevala Sahti: the tasting notes

Appearance – golden orange, turbid, dense white foam (we carbonated it more than is traditional)

Aroma – balance is way towards intense, pungent, resiny juniper (pine sap and needles) with spicy grain at the back

Flavor – more of that juniper character, strong in the front and tapering through the middle, grudgingly sharing room with bready malt, spicy rye and a suggestion of oats and alcohol. Surprisingly smooth and balanced for a beer of this gravity with nothing but mash hops. Prickly, piney evergreen tree in the aftertaste.

Body – oily and warming

Overall – not as unfamiliar or weird as it might sound … it’s not such a huge leap from Chinook and Simcoe to actual pine bough flavor. And definitely drinkable! Juniper does a nice job standing in for hops and offsetting the sweetness of a doppelbock-strength grain bill.

And finally …

Optimally enjoyed next to an ice floe in a t-shirt on a cold Minnesota day. Don’t forget to pour a little out for your homies in Lappland!

Beer Planet Travelog: Bamberg

Bamberg, Germany is a UNESCO World Heritage site, full of medieval buildings that survived WWII. Walking its streets and squares makes you feel like you’ve stepped back in time. History is great and all, but on my trans-Bavarian beer trek I was more interested in its nine breweries, all within walking distance (or stumbling distance). Read more