brew

Hops one, bubbles zero

The worst descriptor for this beer is subtle. The aroma is a veritable banquet bright, citrusy hops. It smells like flowers and plants and freshness. The texture of the beer is even hoppy. Heavier carbonation might have been a good idea because the hop oil adds a bit of slickness. The oil isn’t unpleasant, but I think it would take more carb to cut through and carry more aromatics. The taste, of course, brings more hops. There’s enough alcohol present to elbow its way into the palate but not in a harsh way. The boldest flavor is piney and there’s a pleasant lingering bitterness. It’s not quite dry though because of the aforementioned oil. The balance seems just right to me. The alcohol of an imperial is there, but all the malt that fueled that fermentation is buried under an avalanche of bitterness.

The recipe began with fifteen and a quarter pounds of American two row malt. A half pound of Caramel 40 added the color, and a half pound of wheat malt futilely hoped to contribute head retention. An extra pound and a half of sucrose went straight into the boil to increase gravity. The mash was a normal hour but malts aren’t the interesting side of this recipe. The wort boiled for ninety minutes, but instead of the normal pilsner related DMS reduction this was to give the hops plenty of time to give up their essence. Two ounces each of Warrior and Chinnook hops went in at the very beginning of the boil. We added an ounce of Simcoe at forty-five minutes, an ounce of Columbus at thirty minutes, and then another ounce of Simcoe and two and a quarter ounces of Centennial at flame out. The gravity checked in at 1.087. I’m actually not sure how hoppy it is. BeerSmith claims 240 IBUs but I think it’s more likely we broke the algorithm than that’s the correct number. Normal WLP001 California ale yeast took care of fermentation finishing at 1.006. For good measure, we dry hopped with 1.75 oz each of Simcoe and Centennial plus 3.25 oz of Columbus because at that point why not. That works out to an even pound of hops for a five gallon batch which is kind of ridiculous in hindsight.

A heady mild

Now there’s a name the promises so very little. The nose on the beer is actually quite nice with lots of malty sweetness and a bit of dark fruit. The carbonation that carries the aroma so well is, however, way too much. It’s aggressively acidic up front. Once the first flavor passes the beer settles into a pleasant malt sweetness then finishes up on a reasonably dry note. Given a bit of time mellowing in a glass, the carbonation eases up a little, but absolutely minimal, hand-pulled, pub-style carb would still suit it better. As the beer flattens out the body also increases to a medium level that ensures the low gravity doesn’t come across as watery. This one has promise, but the taster’s inability to patiently stare at a beer without drinking it is becoming problematic in decarbonation operations.

The recipe began with five and three quarters pounds of our standard English malt, Maris Otter. The adjuncts became darker and smaller doses simultaneously: six ounces of caramel 60, five ounces of caramel 120, three ounces of pale chocolate, and an ounce and a half of pitch Black malt. The only hop addition was 0.85 ounces of East Kent Goldings at sixty minutes. After an hour in the mash tun and another hour in the kettle we would up with a 1.044 gravity. That’s not quite Mild but certainly not a big beer. Fermentation with with WLP002 English Ale yeast finished at 1.010. Somehow the 4.4% ABV falls within style despite the extra gravity. The math there perplexes me.

Wheaty mystery

The weiss recipe couldn’t be much more basic. One part wheat malt, one part pilsner: four and a half pounds each. The mash was run of the mill with no extra steps to deal with the wheat protein. The boil was ninety minutes to account for the pils. Hops were 0.70 ounces of Hallertauer at sixty minutes. Throw in WLP300 Hefeweizen for fermentation and that’s that. 1.056 OG overshot both target and intended and style gravity but not dramatically so. With a 1.012 FG and 5.8% ABV, the net miss is only a fraction of a percent.

This one smells exactly right – a bounty of banana with hints of spice and grain. The initial flavor is equally on point. The banana yeast notes are the primary taste with a nice breadiness behind it. The wheat gives a fake full bodied effect. It’s round and creamy without being heavy. Something in the finish, sadly, seems just a bit off. There’s a slightly sour note that cuts to the edges of the tongue. I wouldn’t call it horribly unpleasant but it definitely doesn’t belong. Whatever it is, it does dissipate as I get further down the glass. I don’t know if that’s because carbonation accentuates the sour or if I’m just getting numb to it. I’m at a loss what the cause might be. The recipe is too simple to point to an ingredient, but I would expect an infection defect to be way more aggressive and pronounced. Maybe it was a fermentation temperature issue or perhaps too much time sitting on the yeast in primary.

Hops better tasted than seen

The nose full of hops on our APA is bright and citrusy. The taste is nearly perfect; it’s a solid dose of bright bitterness without assaulting the palate. The finish is distinctly bitter but light as opposed to the resiny or oily. It toes the line of an IPA without crossing it which is exactly where an American pale should land. The hop profile is more grapefruit than anything else. I get a little bit of graininess that blends nicely. This isn’t all that unique as it’s not an unorthodox or creative blend of hops, but the classics are classics for a reason. As much as I want more and crazier bitterness, the pale ale is distinguished by resisting that impulse and this recipe does so well.

The American ale is of course built on American two-row malt, a total of nine pounds. Ten ounces each of Munich and Victory malts add a bit of character and color, and there was also six ounces of wheat malt presumably mostly for head retention. The hop schedule was two thirds an ounce of Horizon at sixty minutes, then a third of an ounce each of Cascade and Centennial at ten minutes, and another half ounce each of the two Cs at flameout. The yeast was good old WLP001 that’s effective and unobtrusive; hops are the star here. Like the Belgian Dark Strong Ale, I don’t have proper gravity readings for this beer. The plan was 1.056 OG. It’s much harder to guess by taste whether or not we came close to that mark with a more session-y ABV target.

Black sheep of the family

Dark in this case is more of a reddish brown. The aroma has plenty of dark fruit mixed in with yeast notes. The flavors are much the same with fruitier yeast and fairly minimal sweetness. The finish has just a touch of bitterness and isn’t overly dry – not sweet by any means but just mild. The body is medium, tops, rather than heavier and the alcohol is just slightly warming rather than harsh and aggressive. The result is quite drinkable perhaps trending towards dangerously so. My only complaint is I wish it were a bit more complex. On a less compressed brewing schedule, aging and refermenting in the bottle might serve this one well.

This recipe had one of the lengthiest grain bills I’ve ever seen. The base was twelve and a quarter pounds of pilsner and two and half pounds of Munich but then came a parade of specialty malts: thirteen ounces each of special B, caramunich, and aromatic malt as well as seven ounces each of white wheat and melanoiden. In case there weren’t enough fermentables, another thirteen ounces of cane sugar went into the boil as well as two and a quarter ounces of Hallertauer. Note-taking on this particular brew day was inept so I don’t know exactly what the gravity was. The estimate for the recipe was 1.103. I’m quite certain that it came in lower than that – it doesn’t taste that strong. My guess would be somewhere in the mid 80s. The yeast used was WLP540 Abbey IV. A 80F+ fermentation temperature was recommended but seasonally impractical. That may have impacted the yeast flavor development (or lack thereof).