Decocting an Idea

At the beginning of this year, I made myself a couple of promises when is comes to my homebrew. Firstly I committing to brewing with Murphy & Rude malts as much as possible, partly because I want to support a local business, but also partly because I think fresher malt leads to better beer, and you can't get fresher than locally grown and malted grains. It also helps that Jeff and co now sell direct to homebrewers, so I can support Jeff's business directly, a fact that I very much like. My second promise to myself was that this would be the year when I finally start brewing lagers regularly, which meant buying a small chest freezer to be my fermentation and lagering chamber, and a desire to get to grips with the ins and outs of decoction mashing.

I know there are some who hold to the idea that decoction mashing is an un-necessary relic from the past, when malting technology wasn't at the level it is today, specifically when it comes to the levels of modification in the malt itself. The argument basically goes that since modern malts are more highly modified that in the distant past, then decoction mashing has become redundant as a way to maximise extract from the grains. I don't want to get into the weeds of Kolbach, Lintner, FAN, and all the other elements of malt - I am not being facetious there, malt is endlessly fascinating, from barley varieties to the levers a maltster has at hand to great unique products.

My biggest issue with the "decoction is not necessary" argument is that it makes a tacit assumption that the entire point of the mash is to extract as much fermentable sugar as possible from the grain and that it you really want some decoction character then just chuck in some Melanoidin malt - because most people won't tell the difference anyway. performing a decoction though is about more than just increasing the temperature in the mash from one rest to the next. If that were the sole aim of decoction, then just do a step mash. There is, however, magic in the boiling of the decoction...

The picture here is from my first stab at decoction mashing, the left hand side having just taken a third of the mash from the mash tun, and the right hand side, the same decoction after 30 minutes boiling. The boiling process creates a load of Maillard reactions, caramelising the sugars in the grain, adding depth of malt character. There is more to the mash than just getting your hands on sugars to pass on to the yeast for fermentation. The character might be elusive, it might be hard to nail down, and really define, but that doesn't mean negate its impact and value.

How then to do decoction mashing when your homebrew setup is basically brew in a bag? It helps to remember that the bag side of things, at least for me, is a cheaper and easier to use false bottom in a fairly traditional 5 gallon water cooler mash tun. I will admit that I was intimidated by the idea of trying decoction mashing, and my first couple of attempts were all over the place with learning about the properties of thermal mass and temperature loss in my mash tun, oh and it definitely helps to remember that the various rest temperatures are ranges rather than absolutes. 

My first time trying a decoction mash was a good lesson, I mashed in to give my grain a protein rest at 125°/51.6° and naively thought that my first decoction would spike the temperature to a saccharification rest of about 150°/65.5°. I was crestfallen when it "only" hit 144°/62.2°. Having drained the first runnings of my mash, I added my first load of sparge water, which only raised the temperature to 149°/65°, and even my second sparge only ever got the mash to 161°/71.6°.

As I have continued to learn, both through reading and by brewing, I have come to a couple of processes that seem to work for me, depending largely on the amount of time I have to commit to my brew day. If time is short, then I will do a single decoction, if plentiful then a double. My single decoction looks basically like this:

• Mash in for a saccharification rest at about 150°/65.5°
• Pull a third of thick mash after 30 minutes, and boil that for 30 minutes
• Returning boiling decoction hits mash out temperature of 160°/71.1°
• Let full mash sit for 30 minutes before draining and batch sparging, twice

A double decoction goes more like this:

• Mash in for beta-amylase saccharification rest at about 143°/61.6°
• Pull a third of thick mash after 30 minutes, and boil that for 30 minutes
• Return decoction to hit alpha amylase saccharification rest of 150°/65.5°, rest for 30 minutes
• Pull a third of thick mash, boil that for 30 minutes
• Return decoction to hit mash out at 160°/71.1°
• Let full mash rest for 30 minutes before draining and batch sparging, twice

So a 90 minute mash versus 150 minutes.

This may sound odd to some, but my lager brew days have by far been my favourites this year, and doing the decoction process makes for a more engaging day than the standard single infusion for my top fermented beers. It does help that when it is time to tap my lagers they look like these...

Cidery of the Month: Blue Bee Cider, Richmond

A couple of posts ago, I produced a list of what I think are the best 7 ciders I have had in the last 12 months, many of them discovered as part of my research for my book, "Virginia Cider - A Scrumptious History", which you can pre-order by clicking the cover in the right rail there.

As I pondered the many, many ciders that could have made that list, seriously people Virginia is a hotbed of great cider at the moment, I decided that I needed to highlight more cideries on here, especially as cider becomes even more of a regular tipple. There would be but one rule, that I have to have visited said cidery in the month in question, any way...onwards.

I mentioned in the post about the 7 best ciders that my recent visit to Blue Beer Cider in Richmond was off the cuff, and also the first time I had been since meeting with co-owner Mackenzie on a dreich November day when the building was still an empty shell. For those curious about the name, Blue Bee is named for the blue orchard bee, a native species of bee that is a more efficient pollinator that the invasive honeybees imported from Europe by the early colonists.

Now that Blue Bee are back up and running in their new location, very conveniently placed close to I-64 for those us who don't live in Richmond, it was great to see the spruced up interior, with comfortable seating, high tables, and a beautiful bar space. I will be honest, I don't recall how many ciders were on tap the day that we swung by, but they offer both flights of 4 ciders as well as cider by the glass. Mrs V decided to do a flight, while I grabbed a glass of Harrison, one of the workhorse cider apples in Virginia.

Even though I am primarily a beer drinker, in common with most Brits I know cider is always something we are happy to delve on into, and single varietal Harrisons are often a delight. Blue Bee's weighs in at 8.5% is decidedly dry - yay, I love a bone dry cider - with a subtly tannic character that give the cider beautiful structure and a lingering finish that practically demands you drink more. In terms of flavours, I mostly got tropical fruit with some zingy orange peel, which put me in mind of my mum's pastry recipe for our Yuletide mince pies, if you've never zested citrus peels into short crust pastry for sweet pies you are missing out.

Next up was another single varietal, this time an apple more associated with the West Country in England, Dabinett. Rather than repeat myself from the previous post I have reference a couple of times, here is what I wrote about Dabinett:

"The star though for me was their single varietal Dabinett cider, made from the eponymous bittersweet apple from the West Country in England. Pouring a golden colour, the nose was spicy with hints of vanillin, weird reference here perhaps but my kids are big fans of vanilla and cinnamon yoghurt, and that was what popped into my mind straight off the bat. That sweet spiciness carries on it the taste realm as well, but joined by some heavily hitting apple flavours - think apple pie made with wildflower honey. Being a bittersweet, the tannins add a lovely structure and depth to the cider that stop it from being overly zingy in the finish."

By this point I was deep in conversation with Mackenzie and fellow co-owner Taylor, Mrs V had joined us and the conversation and cider was fairly flowing. It was almost like being in the most convivial country pub you can imagine, though being in very urban Richmond. I continued to work my way through the draft offerings, and in my time honored approach not really taking any notes, but just reveling in the aromas and flavours of good cider. It never ceases to amaze just how much diversity there is in something as seemingly simple and ubiquitous as the apple, and likewise that so few varieties are available in the store, and the majority of them overly sweet to my taste.

One thing I have discovered by virtue of the research side of writing my book is that I love pommeau, a mix of apple brandy and freshly pressed sweet cider, so of course I was going to try Blue Bee's two offerings. Firecracker is made with Gold Rush apples and infused with ginger, while Harvest Ration harkens back to pre-industrial times when an agricultural worker's pay was partially paid in cider and brandy, the former to keep you hydrated, the latter to deal with the aches and pains of a hard life. It was while sipping on the Firecracker, which in and of itself is stunning that I had a mad idea, and thankfully the folks at Blue Bee were willing to let me try...putting a measure of Firecracker in a glass of Harvest Party, a blend created by their cider club. It was an absolute knock out, and when the heat of Virginia finally dies off (hurry up please), you bet I'll be creating it as a nightcap to hopefully rain sodden days.

Having stocked up with bottles of more single varietals, including a Yarlington Mill that I am particularly looking forward to tucking into soon, we headed home knowing that when we make it down to Richmond, Blue Bee will certainly be high on our list of places to visit.

Beginnings of Budvar...

Ah...the romance of the "original" Budweiser, yeah, you know, the original that was created 100 years after the previous original Budweiser and some 30 years after the original American Budweiser. If you didn't know already that Budvar are the youngest of the three breweries that bicker over the name "Budweiser" well you do now, so there are no excuses.

Now, while I have been unable to find a date for this rather natty sign I saw in a restaurant in Český Krumlov many years ago, it quite clearly makes the claim that the beer from Bürgerlichen Bräuhaus Budweis is the "Budwesier Urquell" or "Budweiser from the Original Source", in the same vein as Pilsner Urquell. So, the timeline is established, please stop calling Budvar the "original" Budweiser.

This post isn't really about who is the "original", it's about events in the year 1894 - yes you guessed it, I've been reading Der Böhmische Bierbrauer again, specifically the issue from February 1st of that year. In the "Miscellaneous" section of that particular issue there is a report about a meeting that took place on Sunday, 21st January 1894, location undisclosed, to discuss the possibility of building a new brewery in Budweis.

The attendees of the meeting elected one Dr A Zátka, who was a representative in the Bohemian Diet, or "Landtags", to preside over the meeting. Dr Zátka was an advocate for the new brewery, and from the notes in the piece from Der Böhmische Bierbrauer, many of the speakers at the meeting were in favour of creating this new brewery. A phrase though that jumped out at me was that the new brewery was described as being "das böhmische Unternehmen", or "the Bohemian company". From the context both of the text and historically as we know Budvar was founded as an explicitly Czech enterprise, as distinct from the "Deutschböhmen" or German Bohemians, so it was interesting to see it called out in a contemporaneous source.

Seemingly, there was confidence that such an enterprise would thrive, given that beer production had increased in the years prior to the meeting. Our friends at Bürgerlichen Bräuhaus Budweis and other local breweries had brewed an additional 100,000 hectolitres (85k Bbl), with production ramping up a further 100,000 hectolitres. It was boom time for beer in South Bohemia in the 1890s and the founders of Budvar clearly wanted a slice of that pie.

Obviously though, as anyone who has even considered starting a brewery, money would be needed to get started. According to a letter read out at the meeting from an engineer called Mr Jahn (possibly a partner in the brewery machine company Novák & Jahn, a regular advertiser in Der Böhmische Bierbrauer) the initial brewery would have an annual capacity of 30,000 hectolitres (25.5k Bbl) and cost 250,000 Florins. Thankfully for this time period we don't have to wade into the mess of Central European currencies, and based on the money table in the 1905 edition of Baedeker's "Austria-Hungary Handbook for Travelers", we can say that the initial brewery was priced out at about $52,000 at the time, approximately $1.7 million in 2024.

With this proposal in front of them, the attendees of the meeting agreed to "build a Bohemian brewery" with those already subscribed required to pay 1% of their subscription to cover preparatory costs. They also established a provisional committee to over see the work, with Dr Zátka being elected to likewise lead the committee. 

The road to Budvar had taken it's first step...

Top Seven Virginia Ciders - 2024

Just in case you didn't see my various socials last week, my first book is being published on October 21st and is now available for pre-order on Amazon, and Barnes & Noble for those who don't care to give more money to Amazon. 

The book is called "Virginia Cider: A Scrumptious History" and looks at the development of cider in Virginia from the earliest days of European colonisation to the present, with a particular focus on the people making cider in Virginia today, as well as a glimpse of where they feel the industry is headed in the immediate future. Researching the book meant several weekends driving the highways and byways of Virginia, from the Blue Ridge mountains in the far Southwest to the Atlantic coast in the east, taking in the Allegheny Highlands, Shenandoah Valley, and the Piedmont along the way, as well as cities like Richmond, Alexandria, and of course Charlottesville. Virginia has a long, and hopefully continuing history of being a cider making region, and it was a pleasure to get out and meet the folks making it around the state.

Having travelled many, many miles, and drunk many, many ciders, I decided that in addition to my annual Top Ten Virginia Beers post, I would start a Top Seven Virginia Ciders equivalent. As with the beer post though, this is again thoroughly subjective and really about the ciders I enjoyed the most, emphasis being "I", so lets go on shall we...

1. Troddenvale: 2021 Special Edition No. 12

Having spent time speaking with Will and Cordelia at Troddenvale, having a tour of their orchard that contains several apple varieties from Spain and France as well as classic American cider apples, it was time to indulge in a little sampling of the wares, including this 100% Dolgo crabapple cider. My first thought as I looked at the deeply rosé copper liquid in the glass, which you can just about make out in the picture above, was that this was possibly the darkest cider I had seen before, or at least the darkest without the addition of others fruits or flavorings. Sticking my nose in the glass I was overwhelmed by masses of strawberry and cranberry aromas, vaguely hinting at the acid attack that was to come. Those strawberry and cranberry notes were definitely there in the drinking, but this time they were smacking a huge acid punch, as if the fruit had been layered in sherbet and lemon juice. I think I may have taken a step back in amazement at the complexity and structure of this simply stunning expression of a single apple variety. Such was the impact of this cider that I now have a Dolgo tree in my own little backyard orchard. Yes, this is a cider that is as bone dry as you can imagine, and yes it has a puckering tannic kick to it, but that fruit flavour comes with a hint of sweetness that fends it off from being like drinking straight malic acid. Being such a flavor bomb, it simply demands to be paired with foods that can more than stand up to it, the farmhouse cheddar in the picture for example - Black Cow Cheddar from Dorset in England - or the sweet fattiness of duck breast prosciutto.

2.  Albemarle CiderWorks: Wickson Crab

The Wickson crab apple has a delightfully spicy acidity that to my mind makes it a dream of a cider apple. On the nose there is a subtle lemon note, with the spiciness adding depth reminiscent of lemongrass. The tropical theme continues in the flavour department too as notes of melons, pineapple, and kiwi swirl around, the finish is dry and zingy, brining everything into a laser sharp focus that is deeply refreshing. I will be honest and admit to having caned an entire bottle in a nonic pint glass other the course of about...oh, half an hour or so, yeah I'm a fan.

3. Big Fish Cider: Highland Scrumpy

The first time I went to Big Fish Cider, over the mountains and and far away in Highland County, was for Mrs V's annual trip to her fiddle teacher's traditional music camp, aka "fiddle camp". At the time, Mrs V was pregnant with the twins, and my best mate Dave was along for the ride as well as his wife any took lessons from the same teacher back then, and their son was all of 6 weeks old at this point. While the lady folks were playing fiddle, Dave and I took the opportunity to wander over to Big Fish and sample the wares, it was love a first sip and to this day whenever I get to Monterey I get a couple of bottles of Highland Scrumpy, a blend of locally grown mountain apples, many with no known name. Pouring a clear golden colour, the aroma is that of summer apple meadows with a hint of pear blossom. Tastewise, you know there are plenty of crab apples in the blend as that acidic bite chomps its way through the gentle sweetness to leave you craving more.

4. Buskey Cider: Virginia Hewes Crab

Virginia Hewes Crab is basically the state apple of Virginia, though the state doesn't actually have an official "state apple". Grown since at least the 1760s and a popular cider apple ever since, Virginia Hewes Crab is a wonderful combination of acid, tannin, and sugar, that makes a superb cider, that in the hands of Buskey Cider produces a rich yellow cider, that to my brain smells distinctly floral with a tropical fruit - think pineapple - edge. I find Buskey's version of a Virginia Hewes Crab cider also has notes of lime peel, strawberries, and a hint of Sekel pear in the background, finishing with that classic dry zing of crab apple ciders. It is no wonder it won a gold medal at the 2023 Governor's Cup.

5. Blue Bee Cider: Dabinett

The first time I visited Blue Bee Cider in Richmond was with Mark, and they were in the process of moving to a new venue, with all the decorating and building work yet to be done. Last weekend though, I was in Richmond to drop off my entries for the Dominion Cup homebrew competition and we discovered that Blue Bee was just round the corner from where we were having lunch, so Mrs V and I took the decision to pop round. Well, popping round turned into trying every single cider they had available, a couple of them several times, and even doing a little mixing and matching of ciders with pommeau - it was one of the most agreeable afternoons ever. The star though for me was their single varietal Dabinett cider, made from the eponymous bittersweet apple from the West Country in England. Pouring a golden colour, the nose was spicy with hints of vanillin, weird reference here perhaps but my kids are big fans of vanilla and cinnamon yoghurt, and that was what popped into my mind straight off the bat. That sweet spiciness carries on it the taste realm as well, but joined by some heavily hitting apple flavours - think apple pie made with wildflower honey. Being a bittersweet, the tannins add a lovely structure and depth to the cider that stop it from being overly zingy in the finish. There is not a lot of this cider left, so if you are in the area, pop by and buy some before it is all gone.

6. Ciders from Mars: Shady Lady

Made 100% from that workhorse of the American cider world, Harrison, Shady Lady from Staunton's Ciders from Mars pours a rich, honeyed gold and looks just gorgeous in the glass. The nose is lots of stone fruits, such as peaches and nectarines, all with the floral quality in the background that kind of reminded me of my own orchard in spring. The stone fruit is the star in the tasting as well, this time with some berry notes that immediately put me in mind of lingonberries, all leading to a sharpy, citrus zing in the finish. 

7. Sage Bird Ciderworks: Stocking Stuffer

Being honest, flavoured alcoholic drinks, whether cider, beer, or mead, are something I tend to shy away from, but the idea of a winter seasonal cider infused with juniper and tangerine just appealed to me - and to be frank everything Mark and I drank at our evening session in Harrisonburg was superb too. Why then did this one stand out? It rounded off my Yuletide drinking, after our traditional feast of hot smoked salmon, gratin potatoes, and various other rich goodies perfectly - especially as we didn't crack open the traditional plum pudding. The spice in Stocking Stuffer more than made up for that oversight, with hints of clove, allspice, and cinnamon to the fore and the subtle sweetness of tangerine peel lurking in the background. It had me thinking of the once grand tradition of studding oranges with cloves and hanging them around the house for Yule. Not overly sweet, but a sipper by the fire for sure.

It's really hard to highlight just seven from the many superb ciders I have had in the last 12 months, and the likes of Winchester CiderWorks Malice, Lost Boy Cider's Cellar Series - Small Apples, Sly Clyde Ciderworks' Subversive, Daring Cider Company's Crab Apple Cider, Patois Cider and several more would all have graced this list.

International Beer Day - My Faves

So...this post is entirely inspired by Pete Brown's post marking International Beer Day, which you should go and read - hold on cowboy, read mine first then go to Pete's blog. I will say that I like the way Pete has considered this subject, and being a traitorous craft beer drinker too someone that does Dry January as well, that first beer of a year is definitely a highlight, and one that has been considered for far longer than is reasonable. Onwards though...

1. A well-made Czech style světlý ležák

I know I bang on about lager a lot, and Czech styles in particular even though it has been 15 years since Mrs V and I abandoned living in the centre of Prague to come live in Virginia, but I make no apologies for being something of a purist on that. I lived in Czechia for a total of 10 years, both in and out of Prague, and I drank a boat load of great lager, so it grieves me when breweries try to pass off a Saaz hopped pale lager as somehow being a "Czech/Bohemian pilsner", and I know this will get me in trouble with some, but you cannot make great Czech style beers without under-modified malts, decoction mashing, and extensive lagering. You can prattle on about "more highly modified malts" making decoction unnecessary, and I get that, but in that one statement is all the arrogance of people that think they know better than the maltsters and brewers making the best lager in the world, the Czechs themselves. Can you make a great Saaz hopped pale lager with a single infusion mash, yes you can, is it an authentic Czech pilsner? No it isn't. I have only been back to Czechia twice in the last 15 years, and on both occasions it took we a while to start drinking US made "Czech style" lagers once I got back because they by and large simply don't stack up.

2. Harvest beer

My little garden is unlikely to ever keep body and soul together, pretty sure a diet of tomatoes, cucumbers, peas, and chili peppers is lacking some key nutrients. It is a major salve for my soul though. I love prepping the beds, sowing seeds, planting out, and eventually harvesting the produce, my particular favourite is the English green peas that I grow every year, well twice a year actually given our fantastic growing season here in Virginia., The second crop, which I will be sowing in the next week or so actually, I use mainly for seed for the spring crop as well as dried peas for winter soups and the like. When I harvest a bed of peas in late spring or early summer, I bring the entire basket up on to my back deck, extend out the awning so it kind of looks like an old school green grocers, and set to freeing the peas from the pods. Invariably there will be a glass of something on the table as well, probably bottom fermented, likely to be pale or amber (that's amber, not red), and refeshing. For many years, until the beer was discontinued, my go to harvest beer was Port City's delicious Franconian Kellerbier. I am, in many ways, quite a simple soul and so the meditative zen of harvesting and processing food from my garden practically begs for a rustic, flavourful beer.

3. My Best Bitter

It's a beer that used to be brewed occasionally by Three Notch'd Brewing in Charlottesville under the moniker Session 42, or more lately Bitter 42, though it hasn't seen the light of day for quite some time now. At the same time though, I probably brew that particular recipe more than any other in my own homebrewing. There are some slight differences between what I brew at home and what was brewed at Three Notch'd, namely I have switched to using only Murphy & Rude malt, in this case their English Pale as the base, with about 20% of their Biscuit malt - I am not a big fan of crystal malts in my beers. I also use a different yeast, preferring SafAle S-04 over their house yeast, which is if I remember rightly the McEwan's strain. Having the option of pouring a pint, a proper 20oz pint of course, of best bitter from my kegerator in the kitchen is just so much fun. Friday afternoon comes, I don't usually drink from Monday to Thursday, and everything is done for the week, a pint or three whilst cooking just unlocks my inner Keith Floyd.

4. Mrs Velkyal's Beer

My wife doesn't brew, she doesn't really drink beer as much as she did when we met and lived in Czechia, but you bet I trust her understanding of beer absolutely implicitly. When she declares a Czech style pilsner to be "good" then you know what she really means is that she is having an Anton Ego moment and being transported back to the pubs and beer gardens we frequented in Czechia. When she drinks a kölsch please learn to pronounce the "ö" in kölsch correctly without repeating back to her the abomination that is "kolsch", seriously people if you can't say it properly don't try and correct people that can. As I said, her beer drinking has very much diminished since we left Czechia and that is mainly due to the higher carbonation levels you find in many American craft beers, which give her discomfort of the stomach. When she does find a beer that she enjoys, she will be loyal fan until the batch runs out, and when she gets home from work and wants a pint of my homebrew, then I know that recipe will be brewed again.

5. Beer in a Maß

Whether you call it a litre glass, a maß, or my own personal favourite a tuplák, if I have the option of drinking a good lager from a big ass glass then you bet your bottom dollar I am taking it. Now, sure, it's not the kind of glass for drinking a doppelbock from, and to be blunt, I am not sure I would want to drink a festbier or märzen by the litre. However, the 3.6% abv Sommerbier I had at Bierkeller in Columbia, SC last weekend whilst scarfing more Würste than was strictly speaking necessary and reading "Modern Lager Beer" was perfect, especially in the absence of table service (a good thing), so I didn't have to refill quite so often. Speaking of the Sommerbier, I have few 1 litre growlers of it in the fridge, and it is Friday...

Top Ten Virginia Beers - 2024

Ah the final few days of July...

Back from the annual beach week in Florida, just a couple of weeks until the kids go back to school (how are they in the second grade already?), and Mrs V heads back to work soon too. All this means a couple of things, autumn is finally on its way, I have already seen plenty of Oktoberfest branded beers in the shops, and it is time to do my annual list of the top ten Virginian beers I have had in the past 12 months.

I say this every year, though I fear repetition has dulled people's ears, but this is a purely subjective list, and certainly not exhaustive. I don't get round to every brewery in Virginia each and every 12 months, and neither would I want to given the price of gas and pints these days. Being a subjective list, it is naturally heavy on bottom fermented beers, for the obvious reason that they are just the kind of beers I like to drink. Anyway, with all of that said, let's dive into the list...

1. Selvedge Brewing: Coat Czech - I will be completely open and transparent here, but I actually hemmed and hawed about making this beer my number one choice because I was worried about there being a very case of recency bias. Coat Czech has been my go to beer for the last couple of months while it has been available at Selvedge, whose new venue is also one of my favourite places to have a drink despite being the other side of Charlottesville. Coat Czech is a 12° světlý ležák, aka pale lager, that my first impression was that it reminded me on the magnificent 12° from Únětický pivovar back in Czechia. When I mentioned that to Josh, he let me know that the Únětický beer was indeed the inspiration, and boy did Selvedge nail it. Poured from the Lukr taps, with the pile of wet foam that entails, Coat Czech is absolutely redolent with Saaz hops, that lemony spicey bitterness is there, a beautiful meadowy hay character too, all backed up with the honeyed biscuits of decocted pilsner malt. I loved this beer and will be at a loss as to what to drink when I next head to Selvedge (actually that's hyperbole because I know what is being released on Wednesday and I am excited for it big time!), oh and one other reason this get's top spot for 2024? Mrs V loved it too and said it reminded her of drinking back in Prague, when she likes a beer, you know it is damned good beer.
2. SuperFly Brewing: Midnight Train - SuperFly Brewing in Charlottesville are a relatively new brewery, but one that is kicking it out of the park. Midnight Train is a London Porter that snuck into the final three for Fuggled Dark Beer of the Year back in December on the strength of a coupl eof pints just a few days before the post went live. It has become one of my go-to choices when I swing by, the taproom is conveniently located right opposite the homebrew store I use, as it hits every high note you would expect of a traditional London style porter, inky black, masses of coffee, unsweetened cocoa, and a biscuity base that makes it painfully moreish. It really was no surprise to me that it won the porter category at this year's Virginia Craft Brewers Cup, and also came in third in the best in show. Cracking beer.
3. Selvedge Brewing: Loden Vienna Lager - Before there was Coat Czech in my affections, there was Loden, which if I remember rightly was Selvedge's first beer brewed on their new system at the new location, and also the first double decocted lager they produced. Loden is a classic Vienna lager, and by classic I mean in the vein of the beers brewed by Anton Dreher in around 1840, using English malting technology to get a paler malt than had previously been regulalry available. Being brewed with 100% Vienna malt and hopped exclusively with Saaz, Loden was a stunning burnished copper, topped with several inches of firm white foam - another thing I love about Selvedge is their commitment to serving beer with plenty of foam, none of your all the way to the top of the glass, vaguest schmeer of scummy foam here thank you very much. Crusty toast and a delightfully spicy hop flavor mingled and merged to make this a beer I drank inordinate amounts of, and look forward to doing so again when it returns.
4. Tabol Brewing/Selvedge Brewing: Tabolcloth - the Franconian style vollbier that walked away with the overall Fuggled Beer of the Year for 2023, and a beer I drank a lot of when it was available late last summer and autumn. This was the first beer I had ever drunk, that I am aware of, that used the old Franconian yeast strain with the oh so sexy moniker, TUM-35. The beer itself was a lovely amber hue, with a distinctly rustic aroma and graininess that I could happily imagine drinking by the maß outside a country Gasthof, watching the world go by.
5. Wheatland Spring Brewing: Found Artifacts - Every January I take the month off the booze, however January 2024 was a little different as I was in the process at the time of researching and writing my upcoming book, "Virginia Cider: A Scrumptious History". One weekend, my photographer collaborator and I were doing the rounds in Loudoun County in northern Virginia and looking at the map I realised that we would be a mile from Wheatland Spring by the time we finished visiting cideries. I knew at that moment that I would be taking an evening hiatus from Dry January to finally visit a brewery whose beers I have been enjoying for a few years now. Their Found Artifacts Pilsner was on tap and I while I had a couple of intermission pints and other beers, it was this that I kept coming back to, it is such a wonderful pale lager. What John and the folks at Wheatland Spring as a farm brewery is fantastic, and all their beers are excellent, but for me this is the best find of the lot.
6. Tabol Brewing: Kelheim - Another trip with Mark for the book, this time to Richmond, and being in the neighbourhood of a brewery I have a lot of time for. It was their collaboration with Selvedge called Tabolcloth, mentioned above, that really put Tabol brewing more on my radar, I'd had a couple of bits and pieces of theirs previously though. When we got to the tasting room, where pints were $3.50 at the time, I instinctively picked up a four pack of Kelheim, their lovely, malt forward märzen to take home and enjoy over the Yuletide holidays. As I described it in an Instagram post, it is simply an "on the button" strong pale lager that has no right to be that easy to drink
7. Devils Backbone Brewing: Morana Tmavé - It's been about 14 years now since I designed the recipe for Morana, back when the hair splitters who love to advocate for the rating of beer wouldn't even accept that Czech style dark lager is a seperate tradition from either Bavarian dunkel or schwarzbier. Given the veritable tsunami of Czech dark lagers in US craft brewing since Jason and I brewed the first batch of Morana, I like to think we won that particular argument. From my own research, Morana was the first authentic Czech dark lager brewed definitely in Virginia, and most likely in the United States at all. You're welcome. Since that first batch, Devils Backbone have been able to invest in open fermentation and horizontal lagering tanks that have taken this 14° beer, styled on Kout na Šumavě's of the same strength, to ever greater heights. Whenever it gets brewed I make sure to stock up and savour every single drop.
8. Caboose Brewing: Slam Dunkel - I work from home, and have done since before the Pandemic. However, every few months I head up to Northern Virginia for some in-person planning meetings with my team, and when I am up there I try to get to a decent brewery or two. Caboose Brewing's Tavern in Vienna is one of my preferred places to go after a day of product planning and schedule horse trading. The chill vibe, excellent beer, and good food just hit the spot for me. At one of my recentish trips up there, they had Slam Dunk, a Munich Dunkel on tap and I think it was the only beer I drank that night. Rich, toasty, and with a delicate chocolate note in the background, it was lovely. I'll be back up in NOVa soon, and while I don't expect it to be on, I do hope their Oktoberfest lives up to Slam Dunk's standard.
9. Iron Tree Brewing: Pepper Street Porter - From the first cider research trip with Mark, we stopped in at Iron Tree en route from the far south west of Virginia to Lexington, as Mark is friends with one of the owners. Now, I love a good dark beer, and that's exactly what Iron Tree have with this American style porter. It is richly malty, with lots of nutty, coffee, and choclately notes - sure that's what you expect with a dark beer, but the layers of flavour here work really nicely together so it actually almost tastes like you have used chocolate milk for your morning coffee, and if you have never done that, give it a whirl. Hopefully promotional events for the book will take us back down to that part of Virginia, and you can guarantee we'll be stopping in for more.
10. Black Narrows Brewing: How Bout It - This was the beer that opened my eyes to the use of corn, in this case malted heirloom Bloody Butcher corn. If you've been following Fuggled for a while, you'll know that I wrote about Black Narrows for Pellicle last year, and then a post earlier this year about Josh taking the decision to close his brewery on Chincoteague Island. Thankfully Josh has a new beer project on the go, Upweller Beer Company, and he posted the other day that he was brewing a fresh batch of the beer once known as How Bout It. This corn lager is a delight, with a wonderful nuttiness, kind of like the very centre of an almond, and completely lacking the slick oiliness I associate with pretty much every other lager made with corn.

Get Your Coat Love

I have said it plenty of times on here as well as my various socials, I am an abysmal beer tourist. You see, I have this tendency to find a place that I like, that does the kind of beer I like, and I am then a happy camper and a loyal customer. Nearly two years ago I got my act together to visit a few local Charlottesville area breweries that I had heard glowing reviews of, including Selvedge Brewing in their old Woolen Mills location.

The driving force behind that first visit was that they had recently hired a new brewer, who had previously worked at Champion Brewing (remember them?) and was a fellow fan of central European lagers. Naturally then, Josh and I talked at length that visit about decoction mashing, extended lagering, and the joys of doing things the old school way. Oh, and the beer was good too. That first beer was their Oktoberfest style beer, Tracht, and it became a regular tipple that autumn, as did the first iteration of their Munich Dunkel, Tweed.

About a year ago, I think, Josh mentioned to me that Selvedge would be moving to the other side of Charlottesville, to a venue in Ivy, and that they would be shut over a chunk of the winter and early spring. When they opened the new spot a couple of months ago, I knew I would be getting over there on opening weekend, that had after all put an ordinary bitter on their new beer engine - yes you read that right, a central Virginia brewery with a functioning, and being used, beer engine!! Speaking of dispense methods, the majority of the taps are standard flow control faucets, while they also have a pair of Lukr taps.

Since they re-opened, Selvedge has become a regular haunt of mine, especially as Josh is now able to do decoction mashing on his central European lagers, the first being Loden, his recent Vienna Lager...

Just look at the glorious pint, topped with a veritable fountain of foam! Oh and willibechers are my favourite glass by a country mile. Not only did it 100% look the part of a classic 100% Vienna malt lager, it tasted on the money as well, redolent with toasted malt and a lovely spicy Saaz finish that made it simply moreish, and more and more and more. Simply put, it was delicious, and my go to pint for as long as it was available.

From time to time though I would change things up a little, with their Italian pilsner above, Poplin, or sometimes more of the dunkel, or maybe even the remnants of the ordinary bitter, Houndstooth, served through the Lukr tap - serving top fermented beers through a Lukr tap is becoming something of a thing in Central Virginia, with Decipher Brewing also pouring their 80/- through it now as well.

It was then, with no little excitement that last Friday came around. A few weeks back Josh did a double decoction with Moravian malt, chucked some Bohemian hops into the boil, and even got hands on the lauded H strain of yeast from Pilsner Urquell to make Coat Czech, his version of a 12° světlý ležák (pale lager to you). Josh was recently in Czechia, visiting many of the best pubs and breweries in both Prague and Plzeň - I may have given him several pointers - and this beer was the outcome of drinking in the home of great pale lagers.

Straight from the Lukr tap, in the hladinka style pour - while I have your attention, please, please, please can we stop bastardising the Czech language by asking for multiple hladinkas? Hladinka is singular, hladinky is plural for between 2 and 4, and if I remember my grammar correctly, more than 5 would be hladinek. Facts matter people.

Anyway, what a storming, storming 12° Coat Czech is. 4.8%, 40 IBUs, this is the most on the money Czech style pale lager I have had since getting back from my last trip to Prague. All of that Saaziness is there, lemongrass, a spiciness that initially had me thinking cinnamon, but also perhaps a kind of coriander thing, but maybe that is the lemoniness messing with my head. Oh and it's bitter, proper bitter, like proper beer should be, bracing without being overpowering, I could happily drink this beer all day, every day, and that would stand if I were in Czechia with all the options available there. Yes, it is that good.

I think I was on my third, and chatting to Josh at the bar, when I commented that it reminded me most of the gorgeous 12° at Únětický Pivovar, to which Josh responded with "that's because that was the inspiration". Inspired, for sure.

As long as it is on tap, I know exactly what I will be drinking for the next few weekends, and if it is still on tap when it is time to head for the annual holiday in Florida, then I might just load on crowlers too.

Of Bostonian Beer...

 A couple of weeks ago I was up in Boston for a work related conference. Having only ever been to the city for a few hours previously, to visit the aquarium with friends and our kids, I hadn't really had much chance to sample the various beery delights that the city has to offer. With a total of four nights in the city, sans famille, I drew up a list of places that I definitely wanted to try, and if you've followed Fuggled long enough you will know that list was dominated by the lager brewers of the world.

One of the things about going to conferences though, especially when several of your vendors are also at the event, is that it can be tricky to find some time to yourself in order to sit with a beer or three and just chill out. Due to the vagaries of flight timetables and conference workshops I wanted to attend, I actually ended up in Boston the evening before the conference started. Having checked into my hotel in the Seaport area of the city, I headed to the first place on the list to visit, Notch Brewing in Brighton.

I've enjoyed several Notch beers in the last few years, but never had the opportunity to get to one of their two venues, and I chose Brighton simply because it was way cheaper than Salem to get to. Having been dropped off by my Uber driver and wandered past the trellis tables and benches in the courtyard, I already knew which beer would be my first, their 10° Czech style pale lager...

What a thing of absolute beauty eh? Obviously poured from a Lukr tap, and while I get pissy with the whole "traditional" and "proper" nonsense that gets spouted about Lukr taps, as if the 50 odd years since the original side pull taps were ripped out in a fit of "modernity" never happened, beer poured this way is a delight. So naturally I had several, and didn't take notes. With a fair few desítky happily sloshing around in my system, it was time to jump across the border to Germany.

I was gutted earlier this year that Port City decided not to release their Franconian Kellerbier, but Notch's version of the same style, monikered Ungespundet, more than made up for that. Loads of beautiful crusty bread, spicy hops, and a lingering clean, crisp finish, this was another stellar beer, and at only 4.5% abv, it is the kind of beer that I could happily just sit and down all night long, but I needed to head to the dark side before closing time.

Whilst not exactly rare back in Czechia, a 12° tmavé is always a nice sessionable treat as opposed to the heavily, and more common 14°. It hits many of the same high notes as its stronger variants, well toasted rustic bread, without tipping over into the world of burnt toast, a very pleasant dry finish, and just plain tasty. All it all it rounded out a wonderful session, enjoying the more temperate weather of Massachusetts when compared to Virginia, where the joys of the hot humid summer are already making themselves known.

As I was researching breweries and pubs I wanted to visit while I was in Boston, somehow I had overlooked the fact that right behind my hotel was the Fort Point location of Trillium Brewing. When I perused their beer menu online, I noted that they had an eponymous Pilsner, brewed in the German style rather than the Czech, so naturally when I popped in after a company dinner on the first night of the conference itself, my choice was easy.

At 4.7% it is a touch lower in alcohol than many other German style pilsner, but it more than made up for it in the aroma and flavour departments, with a lovely floral hop aroma and crackery dry malt finish that just insists on another, and another, and ok then another. What I hadn't noticed, tucked away on the opposite side of the menu was a helles lager called Central Artery.

This is the beer that had me coming back to Trillium each night I was in Boston, it was just the perfect helles lager, and as I have mentioned before, poroper lager isn't fizzy and this was far from being a sea of bubbles. As a counterpoint to the crackery dryness of the Pilsner, Central Artery has a pillowy soft maltiness that put in my mind of a lightly toasted biscuit/savory scone, finished with a firm, though unobtrusive clean hop bite, that makes helles one of my favourite styles - make a good helles and you have a fan for life in me.

Talking of making a good helles, I enjoyed several pints of "Worker's Pint" helles at Democracy Brewing over dinner one night, though didn't take any pictures, come on folks, I was at dinner with clients and taking pictures of your booze really isn't a good look in that context. The beer itself though was very nice.

It was just a flying visit for work, so I couldn't really go deep into the breweries in Boston, but just skimming the surface has me keeping an eye out for future conferences that are relevant so I can get back and try more, and finish every evening again at Trillium over pints of Central Artery.

Best Beer Ever!

Shock, horror, a new post at Fuggled!

Yes, it has been a while, but mitigating circumstances, I have been heads down writing my first book, which is due out in the autumn hopefully, oh and building A.I. type tools in my day job - yeah, it's been busy.

Just before things went a little wild though, I found time to brew a beer for my new fermentation and lagering chamber - yes, sir, I bought a small chest freezer and temperature control to allow me to brew lagers whenever I felt like it. It also means that I can now lager outside of my kegerator, so while I have a lager going in the in the freezer, I can have quicker to make top fermented beers on tap.

Anyway, that beer that I brewed for the first run of the lagering chamber was a Vienna lager. It was a very simple recipe, a SMaSH Vienna as I used just Murphy & Rude Vienna malt and Tettnang hops, the yeast was Wyeast 2308 - Munich Lager, oh and I made no changes to my water at all, because I never do - not even when this weekend I brew my first double decoction Czech style 10° pale lager.

The Vienna was my first double decoction brewday, and thankfully I hit my target gravity of 13° right on the nail. Sure, my calculated IBUs were a tad high at 32, but I wasn't all that bothered by that fact. Eventually, after 14 days in primary, 2 days for a diacetyl rest, 28 days lagering, and 7 additional days being gently carbonated, I got this delight:

And delightful it certainly was, given how quickly it flew out the tap. I didn't take any detailed notes, but my first beer after the keg kicked was Olde Mecklenburg's superb Munzler's Vienna Lager, and it was pretty similar, so was happy. It was definitely the best lager I have ever brewed at home, and would probably be somewhere in my top 3.

Of course, if I have a great brewday this weekend with my desítka, who knows where things will stand...

Homebrew - Cheaper than the Pub?

The price of beer has been on my mind a fair bit lately.

At the weekend I kicked my first keg of homebrew for the 2024, a 5.1% amber kellerbier that I brewed on New Years Eve. The recipe was nothing spectacular:

• 6.5lb Murphy & Rude Vienna malt
• 3.5lb Murphy & Rude Munich 9 malt
• 0.5oz Magnum
• 2oz Saaz
• 1oz Hallertauer Mittelfrüh
• 2 packets Saflager 34/70

If anything were out of the ordinary about this beer, it was that it marked the first time I did a decoction mash. The beer that eventually came out of the tap was lovely, and looked like this:

Admittedly I was somewhat gutted that it had kicked so quickly as it was a lovely, lovely beer, still I am planning my next brew of it, especially as I finally caved and bought a chest freezer to set up as a fermentation and lagering chamber.

As I said though, the price of beer has been on my mind. Part of me was a little confused as to why the keg kicked so quickly, after all a 5 gallon keg is supposed to be about 40 pints. Yes, when I filled the keg, I think there was only 4.5 US gallons in the keg itself, which is 17 litres for the cool, modern, kids using metric, even with a 10% wastage factored in, that would be about 35 beers. It was then I had a brain wave and remembered that by far and away I do most of my drinking from half litre glasses like the Tübinger mug in the picture, so maintaining 10% wastage, we are down to 31 half litres, but if I actually fill my keg with 5 gallons/19 litres, with wastage it becomes 34 half litres, or 36 US pints.

If I were to drink 36 US pints at current standard prices in the Charlottesville area, that would be $252 for a full keg, but with only 4.5 gallons in the keg, it becomes $230. I decided then to calculate how much said beer cost to make, and it break down something like this:

• grist: $25.84
• hops: $12.22
• yeast: $17.98
• total: $56.04

My water is free as I have a well, but if I include that at the rate of $1.30 for a gallon of Walmart bottled water, I used 8 gallons for a total of $10.72, making our ingredient total $66.76, or $2.15 per half litre of beer. Now, it would be completely disingenuous of me to say my beer only cost $2.15, as I haven't included costs for labour and buildings, etc.

My single decoction brewday for this beer consumed about 7 hours of my time, so if I calculate that at $14.30 per hour as the lowest hourly rate for a brewer in Virginia. Apparently the average in Virginia for a professional brewer is $18.25 per hour. My keg has now cost me an additional $100, so we are at $166.76. Brewing the beer though is not my only labour here, I also have to serve it to myself and my friends. So let's say at a party, a 5 gallon keg of beer kicks in about 3.5 hours - based on my experience of providing kegs to parties - at the minimum wage for Virginia tipped employees of $12 per hour, that would add $42, so we're at $208.76 for brewing and serving a 5 gallon keg of a fairly standard beer. I haven't even factored in rent for my few square feet of garage where I do my brewing and store the product while it is fermenting, but let's call that $10 a month based on the size of my house and my mortgage, with bills chucked in there too. So now my keg has cost $218.76 to brew, store, and serve. If I get a full 34 half litres out of that, we are at $6.43 per half litre.

Thankfully, I don't have to pay myself to make beer, neither do I pay myself to serve the beer, and so the real cost for a half litre of my own beer at home is about $2. One thing though that is really clear to me from this little exercise is that ingredients are not the bulk of the cost of making the beer, it is a the people, equipment, and place to do so. Obviously I am also not able to take advantage of the economies of scale that a commercial brewer (sorry idealogues, if your favourite beer is made by a company that does so for a living it IS a commercial brewery), especially when it comes to non-linear increases such as the ingredients, and don't forget to factor in that a single decoction brewday in my garage takes about as long as a single decoction brewday at a professional brewery with the appropriate kit. 

It is ultimately scale that makes such comparisons effectively futile.

Is it enough to make me give up brewing my own beer because what is the point in saving less than a dollar a pint? Not in the slightest, because here in the real world it is a hobby where I just so happen to make beers that I really enjoy brewing, drinking, and sharing with friends. I also feel that reducing the hobby down to just the financials is to lose sight of why I brew - to have on tap beers most US breweries don't touch with a ten foot barge pole, the creative urge to develop and improve recipes, and when you live in a place where the absence of walkable pubs is stark, being able to have a draft beer whenever you feel like it - is to miss the point at the end of the day.

A Loss for Virginia

The Virginia brewing scene is a poorer place today.

Do we still have around 350 breweries in a state with a population of 8.6 million, giving us a brewery for approximately every 24,000 people? Yes we do. Can you go in pretty much any decent sized store and get beer brewed in Virginia? Yes you can.

Still, the Virginia brewing scene is a poorer place today.

"Why?" I hear you ask...

Yesterday, Josh Chapman, owner and brewer at Black Narrows Brewing on Chincoteague Island announced that they have decided to close their doors - their final weekend in operation will be February 16-18th. You may, or may not, know that I wrote a profile of Josh and his brewery for Pellicle just last year.  It was also just last year that their magnificent malted corn lager "How Bout It" was awarded a Good Food Award - the corn in the lager being an heirloom variety, grown on the Eastern Shore, malted by Murphy & Rude in Charlottesville, and fermented with a yeast strain derived from a Chincoteague oyster. Beer does not get much more local than that.

My few hours on Chincoteague with Josh was a shot in the arm for me. Here was someone making beer in ways that deeply resonated with me, on equipment that wasn't state of the art, in a manner that seemed to encapsulate the early pioneers of craft beer. Josh's hops were mostly from the Eastern Shore, he only used Murphy & Rude malt, which is all made from Virginia grown barley, he did interesting things, like using pine needles, oyster liquor, and eelgrass in his beer. He supported his community by taking what they could offer, and returning it to them in the form of insanely tasty beer.

Black Narrows was a local brewery in perhaps the purest sense of the word.

In announcing the closure, Josh noted that "we watched our ingredients, equipment and labor costs increase. It was all too much". In the end, the finances of being a hyper local, community supporting brewery just couldn't sustain the business, when I interviewed Jasper Akerboom noted that "If you start a brewery, you are not going to get very wealthy". Prescient words perhaps.

Thankfully, the beer scene on the broader Delmarva Peninsula is not losing Josh entirely, and there is something new in works, and when it opens you bet your life I'll be trekking up past northern Virginia to get there - and how much I hope the corn lager will be part of this new adventure.

I am not generally a sentimental person when it comes to the business of brewing, but when it came to Black Narrows, I genuinely wanted them to succeed and thrive as their vision of what local, community, brewing means is something I can readily sign up for, where a company is not just a local brewery, but a brewery for locals.

Dark Thoughts Abound

Tmavé, the Czech style dark lager, has been on my mind a lot recently.

Not just because Morana is available at Devils Backbone Basecamp at the moment, I don't believe it is on at either of their other locations, Outpost in Lexington or Back Yard in Charlottesville, but hopefully it will be at some point. Also not just because I am planning to brew my own version of Morana, that I call Černý Lev (that's Black Lion for the non-Czech speakers), at some point in the nearish future as I have started doing decoction mashes with my homebrew. These two facts though are related to my pondering...but first a quick jaunt back in time, to last November.

I went back to Prague, which you probably know as I posted about some of the beers and pubs I went to, but I didn't write about every pub or even every beer I had in the pubs I did write about. While I did write about the perfect session at Hostomická Nelevarna, I didn't mention that I had a couple of half litres of Hostomice's delightful Fabián Tmavý 14°. To my mind it is one of the best dark lagers being brewed in Czechia today and certainly one of my favourites. As my group of friends and I discussed the finer points of Czech beer in general, it was mentioned that Fabián Tmavý is not a classic Czech dark lager, because the proportions of Pilsner and Munich malt are reversed.

In my homebrew version of Morana, which is basically the same other than using CaraMunich I rather than CaraBohemian, which I can't see to find in any of the online homebrew stores, the grain bill is:

• 74% Bohemian Pilsner
• 11% Munich
• 11% CaraMunich I
• 4% Carafa III Special

Initially, I was shocked at the idea of using so much Munich malt in a tmavé, but also deeply intrigued by how such a beer would turn out. I imagine it would be richer, with a deep malt character, a more intense breadiness, and would probably take an extra wallop of hops to give the balance I would expect. As I was pondering, and reading the Pivovar Hostomice description of Fabián Tmavý, a phrase jumped out at me, that I think I probably just glossed over previously, "Tmavé speciální pivo bavorského typu", which translates as "special dark beer, of the Bavarian type". The description continues...

"K výrobě tohoto speciálu bylo použito čtyř druhů sladů, což zaručuje plnou, výrazně sladovou, chuť a však bez sladkého doznívání většiny českých, tmavých, piv. Toto pivo je nečekaně výrazně chmelenoa výrazná hořkost udílí tomuto pivu nečekanou pitelnost. Tmavé pivo, které Vás překvapí."

Which translates as:

"Four types of malt were used to produce this special, which guarantees a full, distinctly malty taste, but without the sweet aftertaste of most Czech dark beers. This beer is unexpectedly very hoppy and the strong bitterness gives this beer an unexpected drinkability. A dark beer that will surprise you."

So, we still have the 4 types of malt, just with more Munich than Pilsner from what I was told, and big dose of hoppiness and bitterness to make the beer more drinkable. For reference, Morana has about 25 IBUs. I decided to create a new recipe for Černý Lev, taking into account the markers laid down by Hostomice, so here goes:

• 70% Munich
• 15% Bohemian Pilsner
• 10% CaraMunich I
• 5% Carafa III Special
• 25 IBUs Saaz for 60 minutes
• 13 IBUs Saaz for 30 minutes
• 2 IBUs Saaz for 5 minutes
• Saflager 34/70 Yeast

My aim would be to keep to 14°, as that seems to be the sweet spot of the modern tmavé, including the direct inspiration for Morana - the much missed Kout na Šumavě.

There is, however, a question that keeps pottering through my mind, and I am being vaguely cynical with this question. As I plan to get back into entering homebrew competitions this year, do I enter this particular beer in the Czech dark lager category or do I take my lead from Hostomice and enter it as a Munich Dunkel, given the phrase that this is a dark beer "of the Bavarian type"? 

Rauchbier Revival?

Tis January, so 2 things must be true, I am taking the month off the booze, and I am diving into the Austrian National Library's online newspaper archives looking at the sometimes weird, but often wonderful world of brewing in Central Europe prior to World War 1.

I really don't take a structured approach to my, ahem, "research", usually preferring to just to enter a keyword or phrase, select the publication I want to look at, and start scanning through images. Just a side note, I find these kind of publications so enlightening about the brewing, and broader, world at the time, as opposed to reading technical brewing treatises. In particular I love trade ads in journals like Der Böhmisches Bierbrauer, Gambrinus Brauerei und Hopfen Zeitung, or Saazer Hopfenzeitung und Lokaler Anzeiger as they give you a picture of the ingredients, machinery, and assorted allied products being made and sold in Central Europe.

Anyway, purely on a whim, I decided to see what I would get if I typed "rauch" into the advanced search, pre-filtering to Der Böhmisches Bierbrauer. There were 115 results returned, and so I decided to sort further by searching on "rauchbier" specifically, which gave me this single result from October 26th 1909:

The headline in bold there declares there is a "Re-emergence of "self-malting"", going on, quoting an article from Bamberg in the "Allgemeine Anzeige für Brauer und Mälzer" which, assuming the translation is reasonable accurate goes on to say:

"The depressed situation of the small breweries is now leading them to return to the old arrangement of malting themselves. Over the years, people have gotten used to getting the malt ready from the malt factory. Today's cheap (?) barley price offers the hand for a return to the old system and so the old Bavarian smoked beer will soon appear again. Whether this will prove successful remains to be seen in the future."

If this report is correct, smaller breweries in Bavaria were going back to malting their own grains because the cost of the raw materials was sufficiently low to make this economical again, rather than buying their malt from the likes of Weyermann, whose maltings is massive pile right next to the railway station in Bamberg.

What jumped out most to me though was that the relative low cost of barley could lead to the return of "the old Bavarian smoked beer". This raises the question then, did rauchbier die out in Bavaria in the latter 19th century and only revive when breweries starting taking back the ability to make their own malt, as, for example, Schlenkerla continue to do so to this day?

Another question this raises is, were malting companies such as Weyermann not providing rauchmalz and thus the beer died out? Was there customer demand for rauchbier to the extent that any other malting company at the time was providing rauchmalz?

As ever, more questions than answers at this point, but if we can take this report at face value, it looks possible that rauchbier as we know it today could so easily have gone the way of grodziskie, broyhan, and Braunschweiger mumme, but for the alleged fact that barley was cheap in the years running up to World War 1.

Pubs in AI

For those that don't know, my day job is as a Product Manager in the world of academic publishing. As with any other software based industry, artificial intelligence is becoming part and parcel of the work we do, so I spend a decent amount of time playing with various tools like ChatGPT, Bard, and DALL-E.

I had been messing about with Bing's DALL-E powered Image Creator for a few hours when I hit upon the idea of using it and ChatGPT in tandem, basically having ChatGPT to summarise a body of text into a prompt of fewer than 50 words to enter into Image Creator.

I decided to take the text of my post back in August describing my dream pub, and initially ChatGPT gave me the following prompt:

Imagine a North Atlantic dream pub with church-like simplicity, perched by the ocean. Picture a cozy interior featuring a great hall structure, discrete spaces, and a roaring fireplace. Capture the North Atlantic ambiance with clouds, sea bird cries, and the scent of the ocean. Envision a community-friendly space, welcoming children responsibly, with a wall of books and a local-focused drink and food selection. Embrace the comfort, camaraderie, and North Atlantic charm of this dream pub.

Image Creator then generated 4 images based on the prompt, of which this one I felt was closest to the prompt.

My initial thought with this particular image was that the church was too ornate for what I was thinking off when I described the simple Calvinist architecture of many a North Atlantic church, so I asked ChatGPT to refine the prompt further, resulting in:

Imagine a serene North Atlantic dream pub, its simple coastal church design nestled by the ocean. Picture a warm interior with a great hall layout, inviting spaces, and a crackling fireplace. Feel the North Atlantic ambiance with clouds, sea bird sounds, and the scent of the ocean. Visualize a welcoming community space, children embraced responsibly, featuring books, local drinks, and hearty food. Sense the comfort, camaraderie, and pure charm of this dream pub.

The best of the resulting images was this one, and it was definitely closer.

I still felt that the building was too grand, and too obviously a church, so I asked ChatGPT to target the kind of very simple churches you see in rural Iceland.

Envision a serene North Atlantic dream pub, mirroring the simplicity of Hellnar, Iceland's church. By the ocean, it offers a humble layout with cozy spaces, a crackling fireplace, and the North Atlantic's natural charm. A warm community space welcomes all, featuring books, local drinks, and hearty food. Embrace the comfort and camaraderie of this unpretentious dream pub.

Finally I felt as though the best image of the 4 provided got to the heart of the kind of pub I had in mind when I wrote my post.

I shared this image on several of my socials, and the reaction has been mostly positive, that this kind of pub would appeal to people that follow me.

Not wanting to rest on my laurels, I decided I would see if AI could give me an accurate image of a real pub I have described in a post, starting with a post from my last trip to Scotland in 2019, when I had a night out with Mrs V in the public bar of the Station Hotel in Alness. The text based prompt that ChatGPT spat out was:

Generate a nostalgic image of a traditional Scottish pub: teal blue doors, worn wooden interior, patrons enjoying Tennent's lager. Capture the lively atmosphere, groups of working men, and the couple at the bar. Emphasize the charm, gaming machine, and the essence of camaraderie in this Highland pub scene.

Bing's closest response was this.

Whilst not an absolute match, if you have spent any time drinking in a Highland hotel's public bar, you will definitely recognise the scene, and it actually makes me feel nostalgic for home.

With so many pubs visited over the years, I think that this kind of fun will be something I do pretty often. and see how the technology, and my ability to create prompts improves.