[EDITOR’S NOTE: The following was written for a freelance job that fizzled. Since I have the Mount Rushmore of writer’s blocks right now, I’m repurposing it here.
BTW, if anyone has any flashes of insight about something that hasn’t been covered (no, the world does NOT need another hazy/glitter beer piece), it’d be cool if you sent it my way. I could use a thunderbolt at this point.]
So you’re sitting at your local taproom/brewpub/cool-ass hipster bar, enjoying another barrel-aged-wild-yeast-fruit-infused-something-or-other, and the thought hits you.
“You know, it would be cool to make this stuff at home, and satisfying to drink something of my own creation. I wonder what it takes?”
Well, assuming you don’t have Silicon-Valley-stock-option money for a barrel program, start small and get yourself a kit, available at most home-brew shops and/or websites.
Most come with these basic parts:
- Boiling bucket — used to boil the grain (or, most likely for beginners, malt extract).
- Fermenter — plastic bucket where fermentation takes place.
- Bottling bucket — transfer the fermented beer here prior to bottling.
- Various other pieces and parts, including lids, tubing, bottle filler and capper, etc.
These basic systems run start at about $80 and upwards depending on the doodads you want.
Once you’ve acquired your set-up, before you even get started, there’s one rule, above all others, you MUST adhere to.
SANITIZE, SANTIZE, SANITIZE!
Now, if you are an advanced brewer, bacteria can be your friend (see: sour beers). However, for beginners, it is the enemy of a clean fermentation. If any were to show up ANYWHERE during the brewing process, you are sunk. You’ll wind up with all sorts of off-flavors and other nastiness.
Anything that touches the liquid anywhere in the brewing process MUST be sanitized, from the buckets used to ferment and bottle the beer, to the tubes that move it around, to the bottles, caps, and bottling equipment. Sanitize, my friend, like you have never sanitized before.
Then sanitize again.
Long ago, when I was much younger and somewhat ambitious, I took a home brew class. Once I saw how thoroughly EVERYTHING needed to be clean and sterile, my ambition said “See ya!” I’ve been paying the professionals to do it ever since.
So, if that hasn’t scared you off yet, a very basic rundown of the brewing process is in order.
(If you’re looking for something more detailed, Google it. If you’re too lazy to do that, you probably shouldn’t be doing this, anyway.)
READY … BREW!
Boil water in the kettle, add malt extract, then hops. At this point, the liquid is called wort. After boiling, strain the wort and transfer it to the fermenter along with enough cool water to make five gallons.
Once the wort’s cool enough, add yeast, secure lid tightly to seal, store the fermenter in a cool place, and allow the yeast to do its thing for 3-4 weeks.
Yes, 3-4 weeks. If you’re impatient, crack open something from the fridge and drink. Pretend you made it and practice the feeling of pride.
When fermentation’s done, transfer to the bottling bucket, straining out unwanted solids. Bottle, cap, then wait a couple more weeks (REALLY?) for the beer to carbonate.
Then, finally, crack one open and drink. Pretend it’s as good as your local taproom/brewpub/cool-ass hipster bar.
See, didn’t that practice come in handy?
“Not me. Go big or go home, I say. Got something with more horsepower?”
You bet. How ’bout a shiny new stainless steel boiling kettle so you don’t have to use your own? Haven’t already saved a stash of bottles? Throw those in, too. And why not a carboy (fancy fermenter) so you can see the fermentation in action?
Not big enough? Get a wort-chiller (a fancy copper coil to run cold water through, shortening the chilling process)? And, to really feel like a pro, you can add a kegging system to serve your delicious creations from that Kegerator you’ve been meaning to install in your garage/basement/backyard pub (that you’ve also been meaning to install).
Depending on how semi-pro you want go, you’re looking at potentially several hundreds of dollars. Not counting the Kegerator. Or the pub.
BREW BOTS
“Yeesh, that sounds too complicated. Got something where I can just throw all the ingredients in and let it go?”
Yes, there is, if you’re not too particular about the end result.
The entry-level all-in-one brewing kit is from Mr. Beer. You’ve probably seen their products (usually around the Holidays) in places like Bed, Bath & Beyond or some such, usually at about $50 or so.
Mr. Beer’s system simplifies things in a couple of ways. The malt and hops are combined in a single syrup added during the initial boil. And they eliminate the need of an additional bottling vessel with a catch-all trap at the bottom of the brewing tank to catch any solids.
From all accounts, the system generally handles the brewing process pretty well, and the compactness is a plus for those in smaller spaces. The main criticism stems from the quality of the ingredients. The yeast, especially, may not be very effective if the product has been sitting on the shelf for a while. Stale ingredients = bad beer. Even if your ingredients are relatively “fresh”, you’re not going to get anything that’s too awfully complex.
However, if you want to feel trendy, they of course now feature a hazy DIPA kit, which is more elaborate than just a simple syrup. But still, really?
“That’s great for your college apartment, but I need something high-tech that’ll look cool next to my Italian Espresso machine.”
Well, Snooty McSnoberson, there are options here, too. These products essentially simplify the brewing process into as few pieces and steps as possible. But unlike Mr. Beer, these are NOT for the budget conscious. Be prepared to spend upwards of $2K or more for these bad-boys.
(And let’s face it, if you can afford that imported glorified coffee pot, what’s another couple-grand, amiright?)
For the more utilitarian-minded, there’s the Braumeister, which looks like your corporate break-room coffeemaker on steroids. Or the Grainfather, which more resembles a water heater. If you’re into steampunk chic, these might be for you.
But if it’s aesthetics you’re after, you want the Brewie or the Pico Brew. These two up the “hipness” factor with sleek designs that, yes, will look more than spiffy in your Mid-Century Modern exhibition kitchen.
I’ll leave it to others to debate which works best. And I’m not going anywhere near “Is it really home brewing if all you’re doing is pressing a few buttons?”
The whole point, really, is the boom in beer has brought with it a boom in home brewers and home brewing systems, for all experience and/or investment levels. You can really get your hands dirty, or just “set it and forget it.” It’s really up to you.
Or, like me after that first class, just pay the nice bartender to pour you another.