Book Reviews

Being a bit of a geek, I tend to accumulate stacks of books about most subjects that interest me. Here, to inform and entertain, I've reviewed the various books that I've read so far about homebrewing.

Randy Mosher - Mastering Homebrew

Randy Mosher is a well established and well respected homebrew writer, and Mastering Homebrew is his entry into the "comprehensive general tome" market. In keeping with Mosher's creative approach to brewing, it sets out to teach you how to design your own recipes, not just follow existing ones. There's a great section on how to build up a complex grain bill from scratch and the roles different malts can play, as well as extensive catalogues of grains, hops and other ingredients and discussions of when and how to use them. This approach extends even to the introductory extract brew "recipe", which is actually more of a template, instructing you to add different combinations of steeping grains, hops and yeast depending on the effect that you want to achieve.

There's perhaps a bit too much time spent on wacky ingredients for my taste, particularly in the recipes (which there aren't many of to start with...), but most of the other stuff that you want to know is in there as well.

The book is clearly written with beginners in mind and covers pretty much everything you need to know to get started. On the other hand, there's also a lot of depth in there, and I suspect that it's one of those books that I'll keep finding useful little nuggets in for years.

Jamil Zainasheff and John J. Palmer - Brewing Classic Styles

This actually makes a great companion to Mastering Homebrew. The focus here is on brewing "classic" beer styles by-the-book - something that Mosher has limited time for - with a recipe and some general advice being given for each BJCP-recognized style. I haven't tried following any of the recipes precisely, but they make good starting points for tinkering with. The recipes are mostly given for extract brewing with steeped grains, but each one is followed by a full grain bill and mashing instructions for all-grain brewers.

Graham Wheeler - Brew Your Own British Real Ale

A good set of general brewing instructions and a solid stack of recipes for trad British ales. The focus here is on following recipes, not on creating them from scratch, though, and as the title suggests, the book is very much about traditional British ale styles - American hops are more-or-less explicitly dismissed as universally inferior to Fuggles and Goldings. Wheeler seems a bit less fastidious in his approach than a lot of homebrew writers, which makes for an interesting alternative perspective at times.

Phil Markowski - Farmhouse Ales

This is divided into two parts - Biere de Garde and Saison. In each one, it covers loads of historic and cultural context, leading into a description of what the beers are like to drink, followed by a general discussion of how they're brewed and then some specific recipes. Some people might find that there's more information here than they really need, but if you like digging into this sort of stuff then it's fantastic.

Most people are probably going to buy this book for the section on saison, but I'd be surprised if all the talk of "rustic, malty ales" didn't tempt a few of them into trying their hand at the odd biere de garde as well.

Mother Styles

One hallmark of French haute cuisine has always been its dizzyingly huge and diverse range of sauces. One of the first attempts to impose some sort of order on the whole proceedings was made by the great 19th Century chef Marie-Antoine Carême - the Heston Blumenthal of his day - who determined that in fact, a great many of them could be seen as being derived from four "mother sauces" - espagnole, velouté, allemande, and béchamel. Under this system, a Mornay sauce could be described as a béchamel with cheese and an egg yolk added, while a sauce chasseur was a sauce espagnole beefed up with mushrooms and shallots.

Carême's original list has been modified over the years - sauce allemande has been demoted to be a derivative of velouté, while sauce tomate and sauce hollandaise have been added - but the idea of the mother sauces remains one of the foundations of French cooking, and mastering them is an essential element of a French chef's education.

I've recently started to wonder whether a similar approach could also help a beginner homebrewer like me to navigate the maze of beer styles and recipes. Rather than starting from scratch with every style and every recipe that we try to brew, can we look at a lot of them as being basically variants on another style that we've already tried? Does beer have "mother styles"?

What constitutes a mother style would probably vary from person to person - an American hophead might see US IPA and American Amber as mother styles in their own right, whereas I treat them as basically derivative of American Pale Ale - but at the moment, most things that I brew are basically variants on one of:

• American Pale Ale
• Euro-hopped Blonde Ale
• Porter
• ESB
• Saison.

That isn't to say that I have a single APA recipe that I tweak when I want an American Amber or a US IPA, but it does seem helpful that when I brew one of those things, rather than thinking about stuff that I already know and about new lessons that I learn as being specific to that style, I can think about them in the broader context of American Pale derived beers. Similarly, for anything dark and roasty I can start off by thinking about how I'd get there from Porter.

Does this way of thinking ring bells with anyone else? What would your "mother styles" be?

Basic Brown Beer

I've got quite interested in "single malt and single hop" beers - SMaSH, for short - as a way of learning about malts and hops while still producing alright beer. It appeals to the science part of my brain to try to learn about a process by observing the effect when you change just one or two of its parameters, and the results so far have been encouraging.

On the other hand, "single malt" beers are obviously pretty limited when it comes to experimenting with darker malts.

What would be nice for that is a Basic Brown Beer recipe - a base recipe that allows for simple variations to showcase different character malts. The base recipe needs to have enough character to support the new addition, but not so much that it overwhelms it. Similarly, I'd like to keep the recipe as simple as possible. It would also be useful if it was fairly drinkable on its own, as a basis for comparison.

My first stab at a recipe is as follows.

• Grist:
  • 85% Pale Ale Malt
  • 10% 80L Crystal Malt
  • 5% Chocolate Malt
(Quantities depending on batch size (or vice versa), for an OG of 1.050)
• Mash at 66C
• 60 minute boil
• Hops:
  • use whatever English hops are to hand at 60 mins to make 25 IBU
• Yeast:
  • Danstar Nottingham (or similar)

Possible variations would be:

• sub Crystal Rye, Carafa or similar for Crystal Malt
• more chocolate malt
• add other dark malts
• sub other dark malts for Chocolate Malt
• sub Amber Malt, Brown Malt, Dark Munich or similar for some of the Pale Ale Malt
• add dark sugar or molasses.

I'm probably going to have a go at something like the basic recipe this weekend. But this is going to be the first dark beer that I've brewed, the first malt-forward beer I've brewed, and the first time I've used any malt darker than medium crystal. So I might be barking up the wrong tree entirely. Any thoughts?

All Grain!

The more you do extract brewing, the more you end up reading recipes and articles and forum posts where all-grain brewers talk enthusiastically about Maris Otter and Carafa Special III and strike temperatures and protein rests, and if you've got anything like my urge to tinker with recipes then you rapidly realize that you're going to have to get around to all-grain sooner rather than later.

All grain - or at least, some grain.

I'm not going to write about the generalities of all grain brewing - that's been covered very well elsewhere - but I am going to write about what my setup is and why.

I started off by considering (and rejecting) the following standard options:

• Brew-in-a-bag - simple, but it seems hard to get reasonable volumes out given the size of pan that I've got to mash and boil in. Also requires a lot of attention and stirring.
• Pre-converted picnic cooler - these seem like a good idea, but tend to be far too big for my purposes.
• Home converted picnic cooler - this is probably the Right Thing To Do in the long run, but I'm crap at Making and would probably make a balls of it.

What I've ended up with is a brew-in-a-bag-in-a-picnic-cooler system. The equipment comprises one Igloo 19l picnic cooler and one grain bag. The process is as follows:

• Put milled grain in bag in picnic cooler.
• Add strike water, stir well, check / adjust temperature and leave for an hour.
• Remove the bag slowly and dunk it in some more hot water in the boiling pan.
• Stir the grain, take bag back out, and leave it somewhere to drain.
• Add the wort from picnic cooler to the pan, crank up the heat and get boiling.

Since my crappy electric stove can only keep about ten litres at a rolling boil, I'm currently starting the boil at a high gravity and diluting in the fermenter.

This has some downsides - you get limited sparging to keep the pre-boil volume down to ten litres, and unpredictable efficiency as a result - I tend to guess at the amount of grain to use, check the volume and gravity pre-boil, and adjust the hopping and post-boil dilution accordingly. You also can't vorlauf properly. The risk of hot side aeration is higher than if you do everything with spigots and tubes, but opinions seem to be divided as to how much of an issue that is.

In general, though, this approach seems pretty practical and I'd recommend it to anyone who's trying to brew mid-sized all-grain batches without a proper boiler.

Rugged yet colourful.

Beer Ingredient Difficulty Ratings

Being quick to raid the kitchen cupboard for wacky crap to bung into beer is one of the more easily mocked craft beer tendencies. And to be honest, I tend to a certain purism myself - not religiously, but out of a pragmatic feeling that unless they're very good, brewers are more likely to make a complete hash of a beetroot and smoked paprika Porter than they are of a straightforward American Pale Ale.

But I also don't like to rule things out, because normally whenever I come out with a definitive statement about how X is Always Bad And Wrong, a little voice at the back of my head points out something I love that does exactly X. And hence for my own brewing, rather than define a set of Things I Will Not Use, I've come up with a set of rule-of-thumb "difficulty levels" - roughly, the further down this list something is, the more competent I'll need to feel that I am before I start using it.

This isn't based on decades of brewing experience - for a given ingredient, it's largely down to a) how often I come across decent beers with it in, b) how often I come across awful beers with it in and c) how difficult I find it to imagine what a good beer with it in would taste like. This is all work in progress, though, so if someone wants to come along and tell me that you can't really go wrong with lacto-sour beers then I'll bump that up.

Thus my current list goes:

1. base malts
2. hops (pretty much any variety)
3. character malts
4. interesting sugars
5. funky grains and adjuncts (rye, wild rice, spelt, oatmeal etc)
6. coffee
7. chocolate
8. smoked stuff
9. oak
10. fruit
11. vanilla
12. chilli
13. spices
14. brett
15. lacto-sour
16. herbs
17. vegetables

Notes:

• Stuff that's used in a totally bang-to-style traditional recipe gets a bit of a pass.
• I'm annoyed to put brett so far down, as it's one of the things that I'm most interested in using.
• Barrel aging gets a lot of flack, but apart from the faff involved it seems like one of the harder things to go wrong with.
• In practice I'll probably use brett before chilli and smoked malt before chocolate nibs because that's the sort of beer that I tend to like more.
• This list doubles as a buyers' guide of sorts - I'd probably buy a coffee Porter from any random brewery, but a beetroot sour would have to be from someone who I've really got a lot of trust in.

Update - 24/01/16 - after reading this Boak and Bailey post about Mikkeller Spontanbasil, I'm half wondering whether part of the reason that some nontraditional ingredients are easier to get right than others is that some ingredients tend to bump up flavours that you'd already expect to find in beer, while others are pretty much foreign to it. So anticipating what cocoa nibs are going to do to your stout recipe or what grapefruit is going to do to an IPA is pretty easy if you've ever had a chocolatey porter or a grapefruity IPA, but working out whether a packet of cassia bark is going to taste good if you dump it in a batch of raspberry saison takes quite a lot of imagination, and is all too easy to get wrong...

Sessionability

Non-homebrew related thinkpiece alert!

This is partly apropos of Boak and Bailey's recent post about drinkability, and partly apropos of the ongoing attempt by Americans to get their heads around the idea of a session beer and why it doesn't just mean "anything under 5%."

I drank quite a bit of Altbier when we were in Dusseldorf the other week. As a style it's basically like a cleaner, colder version of Best Bitter - brown, not too strong, varies from reasonably herbal-bitter to moderately biscuity-sweet. And like Best Bitter, it can be a truly great session beer.

Really traditional Altbier pubs only sell one beer, and they'll repeatedly bring you a fresh 20cl glass of it as and when you finish the current one until you actually tell them to stop. And for as long as they do keep bringing it, you don't get fed up with it and there aren't any out-of-kilter flavours that gradually get annoying. And for as long as they do keep bringing it, you keep swigging and talking and swigging and talking and barely notice the beer. But every now and then, maybe when there's a lull in the conversation, you stop for a second, look at the glass in your hand, let the beer roll around your mouth and think, no, this stuff really is bloody brilliant.

In short, a great session beer demands no attention at all, but will repay as much as you want to give it.

First Brew

I wanted to start off with something simple to brew and easy to drink. An APA seemed like a good bet, so I spent five minutes with Google and picked the first decent looking extract APA recipe that I found.

Recipe - simple APA.

10 litre batch

Fermentables:
Light DME 1.2kg
Dark Crystal Malt 120g

60 minute boil

Hops - all Cascade, leaf, 5.5% AA
14.9g 60mins
7.5g 30 mins
7.5g 10 mins
7.5g post-boil
7.5g dry hop for 5 days

1 tsp Irish Moss at 15 mins

As you'd expect from a first effort, there are all sorts of things that I've learnt from this. I'll probably expand on some of them in future posts, but here's a list to be getting on with:

• Everything takes longer than you expect, particularly getting stuff warm and then getting it cool again.
• It's probably worth bagging the hops when you dry hop, particularly if you don't have a good way of filtering them out when you siphon the beer off to the bottling bucket.
• It's quite a pain in the arse to keep a fermenter at 18 degrees in winter in Cambridgeshire without some sort of heater.
• If you boil 10L of water for about an hour, you don't end up with 10L at the end. And if you forget to take account of this then your nice light APA can turn into something a bit more hefty - I ended up with an 8L batch with a theoretical IBU of 57, measured OG of 1.060 and measured FG of 1.015.

The Beer

The finished beer came out mid brown, grapefruity with a hint of caramel. It wasn't super complex or aromatic and there were initially a few funky fruity rough edges that I couldn't pin down the source of, but it smoothened off with a bit more time in the bottle. To be honest, for a first brew I'd have been satisfied to produce anything that was identifiably beer, so getting something that was actually pretty drinkable was a definite bonus.

Update: a bottle of this brew ended up sitting in a friend's kitchen for the best part of six months, and that time turns out to have been really rather kind to it. The rough edges have gone, the fruity hops have basically gone too, and what's left is basically dark crystal malt cut through with a bit of bitterness - nice smooth flavours, sherry, caramel and dried fruit. I'm not sure that I could pull that off again deliberately, but I'd be interested to try!