So socially, we’ll see everybody in the new year, but here at Bathtub Brewery, we’ll be back to posting our usual 3 times a week on Monday. I already have a fabulous post half-written, and here’s a hint:

Perhaps I might be taking after entrepreneur and brewer extraordinaire Sam Calagione of Dogfish Head, who in his book Brewing Up a Business recalls his great grandmother during the discussion of his first brew: “…my great grandmother … was known in her town for making the best sausage using only pinches and handfuls to measure. I felt comfortable trusting my judgment and it actually worked well.”

A little less than a month ago, I sat down to write my first recipe, after following many of Ray’s innovative and successful endeavors (I swear, nothing beats that Tripel we brewed!). I knew what I wanted to brew, and I knew the flavors I wanted to bring forth, but how to get to that point took a little time. I started with Charlie Papazian’s The Complete Joy of Homebrewing, reading about the style I was interested in and making notes about a few of the recipes Papazian recommended. Though I wasn’t interested in copying one of his recipes, it was a great place to begin. I also googled the type of beer I wanted to brew — I know I’m being elusive, but I want the recipe to be a surprise — to see if anyone else had attempted it. I had some luck with forums, getting a few ideas for ingredients. Then, it was off to our handy-dandy brewing software, Beer Alchemy.

I find Beer Alchemy to be user-friendly, and quite honestly a whole post could be written about it (Maybe if you ask Ray nicely he’ll write about it.). With MoreBeer.com open, I could search for malts, hops, adjuncts and yeasts, getting an idea of what the site stocked, and then analyze what certain ingredients would do in the recipe. It can be fascinating how an extra ounce or two of malts or hops can make a difference in SRM or IBUs.

Just the other day we received our shipment of the ingredients for my recipe as well as Ray’s next one for January. I’m excited — look for a post on December 8  — and I will try my hardest to not add a pinch of this and a scoop of that. Our digital scale will be my friend.

On November 4th, Mitch braved the airlines to trek all the way out from San Diego to Philadelphia, where he headed up Tria’s Election Night edition of Fermentation School in a lecture entitled “Get Stoned on Election Day”.

To accompany the lecture, Mitch brought seven of Stone’s best beers: Pale Ale, IPA, Arrogant Bastard, Ruination IPA, 11th Anniversary Ale, 07.07.07 Vertical Epic aged in red wine barrels, and a 2006 vintage of Double Bastard aged in brandy barrels. Tria, for its part, paired all of this with two cheeses (creamy Cherry Grove Toma from Lawrenceville, NJ, and smoky smooth Vella Dry Monterey Jack from Sonoma, CA) along with spiced, toasted almonds, a few slices of prosciutto, and soft Philly pretzels.

While guiding us through the beer list, Mitch fed us piles upon piles of rich, chewy insight into American brewing. Did you know that 19th century brewers actually prided themselves on their use of rice and corn in their beers, even going so far as to make it a selling point? Did you know that today, it’s actually more expensive to cut beer with those grains instead of simply using nothing but malted barley? Or that a lot of double IPAs are fermented with additional sugar in order to get the ABV nice and high without having to use a lot of malt?

My favorite fact was how Stone stumbles upon some of their recipes. The brewery maintains a 20-gallon pilot brewing system that employees are free to putz around with, creating a democratic process that leads Mitch and his brewers to beers that they wouldn’t have otherwise invented. National phenomenon Arrogant Bastard is one direct result of this system (turns out it was all just a big mistake that happened to taste really good), as is Stone’s impossibly delicious 12th Anniversary Bitter Chocolate Oatmeal Stout.

Which brings us to the beers themselves. You’re probably already familiar with the first three beers on the list. Stone’s Pale Ale smells sweet and floral and fills your mouth with just enough hoppy bitterness to make you want to drink way too much of it; the Centennial dry-hopped IPA fills your nose and mouth with earthy, citrusy hop flavors; and legendary Arrogant Bastard was its usual mysterious self, assaulting you with a barrage of malts and hops. Stone is very protective of the recipe for Arrogant Bastard, even going to far as to deny it a classification, and Mitch refused to say a single word about how it is made.

Ruination IPA is Stone’s Double IPA, though double may be the wrong word. A typical American Double IPA is essentially a regular IPA with twice the malt and twice the hops, but Stone is Stone — double won’t cut it. And so, Ruination IPA uses quadruple the hops of Stone’s standard IPA recipe, and it shows. The beer is crisp and refreshing, yet somehow massive, probably owing to the sheer weight of hop oils swirling through the glass. The nose is so hugely sweet and hoppy that I wouldn’t judge anyone for using this beer as an air freshener.

Needless to say, Stone is famous for their liberal use of hops, but the last three beers show that they have more than a few other tricks up their sleeves.

The 11th Anniversary Ale is an innovative Black IPA, which combines a big IPA — bittered with Chinook and dry-hopped with Simcoe and Amarillo — with a German dark lager. Thanks to a generous helping of German Carafa malts (dark, dehusked malts that provide all of the flavors of roasted malt without the gritty bitterness), the beer boasts a complex balance, beginning with huge hop flavors and aromas and leaving in its wake lots of roasty malt. Everyone in the room agreed that this was a spectacular beer, so we were all pleased to hear that Stone is currently working on making this a year-round offering. All they need, Mitch told us, is a name.

The 07.07.07 Vertical Epic is a 10% ABV Belgian-style strong ale, spiced with grapefruit peel, lemon peel, cardamom, and ginger, and aged in red wine barrels. The nose pops with lots of spice, oak, and dry red wine aromas, making your tongue tingle in anticipation… That might have been a little too colorful. Ah well, it stays. It was delicious, okay?

The brandy-aged Double Bastard is a work of unrelenting madness. I theorize that Mitch peeled back the veils of perception and gazed into the maw of blistered, horrifying reality to bind himself to this mania. Already sinister by way of a doubled Arrogant Bastard recipe, this particular vintage of Double Bastard did hard time in a disused brandy barrel, emerging changed, mutated into a display of smooth oak, spicy brandy, and, you know, a shit ton of malts and hops. Stone claims that this beer is only 10% ABV — I think they lie. I can still feel it more than a week later.

After the lecture, I managed to grab Mitch’s attention for a few minutes to talk about his time with Anheuser-Busch. He explained that, as a managing brewer, he had quite a bit more freedom of creativity than the other brewers in the company had. He even listed several recent Michelob brews that can be credited to him. That said, he was emphatic to point out that he was a big exception: Most macrobrewers are trapped by their company’s recipes, and even Mitch didn’t have carte blanche in his work. It was easy to see that he was leagues happier working for Stone.

We extended a verbal wedding invitation to Mitch before making our way back down to street level, buzzy and full, but satisfied by our generous look into the commercial craft beer world.

It goes without saying that your world view tends to be reflected in your choice of candidate, but the effects that your personal philosophies have on your homebrewing habits may be more subtle. Let’s take a look at the sorts of homebrewers that supporters of the different candidates may be:

Barack Obama Supporters (Democratic Party)

After carefully examining the failed beers brewed previously, you throw out all of your recipes, pledging to bring new brewing ideas to the table without really specifying anything. Nevertheless, your beers have won you a lot of devoted followers, though they do sometimes come off as a little bit fanatical.

John McCain Supporters (Republican Party)

You focus on all of the big, high ABV beers, the theory being that what you bestow on them will trickle down to the weaker brews (which, coincidentally, your wealthy in-laws make quite a lot of money on). You frequently attack beers brewed by Obama supporters. Also, you were a POW in Vietnam.

Chuck Baldwin Supporters (Constitution Party)

You firmly support the Reinheitsgebot, and try to base your recipes on the fundamental laws it sets down. You support any homebrewer who wishes to secede from the AHA.

Bob Barr Supporters (Libertarian Party)

You tend to focus on your own brewing, and prefer not to intervene in other brewer’s lives, to the point where you refuse to give your homebrewer friends any assistance when they ask for it. In fact, you believe they would use your help against you in the end. You oppose any federal definition of brewing.

Cynthia McKinney Supporters (Green Party)

You do your best to minimize waste when you brew. You use only organically grown malts and hops, and you compost everything when you’re done. You embrace all kinds of beers, and wish for everyone you know to participate in the creation of your recipes. No one seems to notice that you’re Black, too.

Ralph Nader Supporters (Independent)

Though people generally do not object to your beers, not many are particularly interested in drinking them, either, no matter how often you try to brew. Recently, you’ve made a few off-color beers that you later had to apologize for.

Ron Paul Supporters (write-in)

You believe that your beers should be what they want to be, so long as they don’t impinge on any other beer’s right to do the same, and so you tend to exert minimal control when writing your recipes. You provide a few ingredients and try to give your beer guidance, but ultimately, you believe that whatever the beer ends up being will be ultimately good. That said, you absolutely, positively refuse to support another brewer’s decision to abort a beer currently fermenting.

Disclaimer: This is just a stupid blog post so seriously don’t get all bent out of shape all right?

For my entree I ordered the Mixed Greens with Mission Figs, Gorgonzola, Pine Nuts and Gorgonzola-Pine Nut Vinaigrette. It was the perfect portion, had just enough vinagrette, and extremely crisp greens. The only issue I had was that I think I reacted to the pine nuts — the roof of my mouth felt quite funny, and Ray’s mouth also reacted. Oh well. I ate it anyway, and rather enjoyed it. Ray ordered the Spanish Tuna with Black Olive-Red Pepper Tapenade and Arugula Sandwich and was also happy with it, despite having to spend five minutes in the bathroom trying to wash all of the oil off. For beverages, I ordered Bell’s Special Double Cream Stout, which came in a fantastic bottle. At 6.1 ABV it’s not too strong, and on the web site it’s described as “sweeter and smoother than the Kalamazoo Stout.” Well I was sold.

Ray was able to order a brew he had been very eager to try: Weyerbacher’s Harvest Ale, and he did a proper tasting of it:

Appearance: White head with lots of lacing. Clear amber gold.
Nose: Super-floral and sweet. Hops are clearly the focus, but are somehow mellow.
Taste: Bitterness is subdued, giving the stage to the hops’ flavor, which is citrusy and slightly earthy/grassy. Again, subdued despite being so prominent.
Mouthfeel: Crisp, bitey, very refreshing. Hop bitterness lingers on the back of the tongue and throat.

To end our trip, we ordered dessert, as well as the Meantime Coffee Porter to share. We ordered the Rogue Chocolate Stout Bread Pudding with Allagash Cherry Sauce and the Nutella Panino. According to the bottle, each serving of the British coffee porter is equal to one cup of coffee, caffeine-wise. We noticed it had a hint of sour to it, but were not sure if it was intentional. I think Ray enjoyed the beer, while I wasn’t terribly crazy about it.

Our servers were knowledgeable and friendly, and we even scored some swag! Cape Ann’s brewer Jeremy had one of Tria’s staff bring us a baseball cap and a t-shirt from the brewery. “For the homebrewers …” the staff member (I feel like he might have been the owner?) said with a smile. So cool!

We joined the Tria loyalty club, paid our affordable bill, and then headed out into the early autumn night, elated that we found a new place to get lost in … maybe every Sunday.

We were enticed by the innovative offering of Cape Ann Fisherman’s Pumpkin Stout. Cape Ann is located in Glouchester, MA, and its pumpkin stout weighs in at 6.75 ABV. The cherry on top was the appearance of Cape Ann’s brewmaster, Jeremy, making the rounds at the tables and talking to anyone interested about Cape Ann and their funky little beer. Score!

The stout was an opaque dark brown with a thin head and Tria’s bartenders served it at the appropriate temperature. As we sipped, we noted that the beer went through a number of flavor stages, beginning with a stout start, then pumpkin coming out a little later. Pumpkin was prevalent in the nose, and the beer overall was very balanced, with just enough bitterness.

Mid-way through our tasting, brewmaster Jeremy stopped by our table to talk about the brewery, their flagship beers, and the stout. He was friendly and very knowledgeable, chuckling when Ray asked how much pumpkin should be used in the mash on a homebrew level. “You’re going to make me pare down to a homebrew recipe?” he asked with a grin. He wasn’t about to do the math, but he did share with us that Cape Ann uses 50 pounds of pumpkin to produce a 20 barrel batch of Pumpkin Stout. Fair enough. Jeremy also reminded us that “a little goes a long way” when it comes to spices, something that every homebrewer should remember.

We also ordered the Sunday School cheese, a Weinkase Lagrein from Alto Adige, Italy. The rind of the cheese was deep purple due to a 4-day garlic and pepper bath in Lagrein wine. I overheard one of the hostesses comparing it to Havarti. We both enjoyed the cheese, which was coupled with crisp bread slices and dried cherries that were soaked in Allagash beer to refresh them.

But that’s just the beginning of our little gastro journey…stay tuned for Tria’s Sunday School Part II.

The idea: Converting a pumpkin into a keg and serving extremely small samples of beer — possibly even a pumpkin beer.

Since I am known as the brewer in the group, I was called in. I explained that it would be too late for Ray and me to brew a special concoction for the day, and also laid to waste their ideas of trying to get a pumpkin large enough to fit a commercial keg. But after battering their hopes and dashing their dreams, another issue was brought up: Could we serve beer at work?

So we switched up the plan and decided to make a mulled cider, which would go into a lemonade-style pitcher that has a spout on the bottom. I suggested we carve off the pumpkin’s bottom, and create a “mouse door” of sorts for the spout to stick out of. We were off and running.

I stayed after work the night before to bring all of our props into work (this would not be just a simple carved pumpkin) and did the initial hollowing out and etching. I got the idea from another blogger who had etched — for lack of a better term — the face of Barack Obama into her pumpkin, and figured I could do the same with the “bar” sign I had created.

The next day I finished up the carving, we decorated, and during judging we served my homemade ginger snaps and Buffalo Bill’s Pumpkin Ale. Yes, you read that right, we found our courage and supplied two six packs from St. Stephen’s on Green that I ran out for. People were surprised by our gutsiness, but even better, most liked the flavor of the beer! A lot of folks also raved about my cookies, and were repeatedly surprised that they were homemade — I guess they don’t know me well enough. We won the prize for group pumpkin, but more importantly, I helped introduce craft beer to my co-workers. A happy ending for all.

The weather is getting cold (not to mention characteristically unpredictable) over here in South Jersey, and it won’t be long before we’re all huddled under blankets in front of our open ovens. It’s time to brew something warm!

This month, we’ve put together an apple beer loaded with spices and sweetness. We don’t expect it to be especially alcoholic, but the 6.5% ABV that we’re shooting for should still be pleasantly warming. Factor in the 40% cider wort, mix in a little luck, and we should end up with something like a nice, hot apple pie to get us through Jersey’s bitter January. Except it’s beer and it’s cold.

One unique thing about this recipe is that it doesn’t really fit into a specific style. We based the recipe loosely on the Red Ale style, but there are also elements of Scotch Ale. That and it’s obviously also a fruit beer, which is what it’d be entered under in a competition. Basically, this beer is a monstrosity and a perversion of nature. And here’s how to make it:

30 October 2008
Winter Red Apple Ale
5 gallons, 30 minute steep, 60 minute boil

5.0 lbs Ultralight Liquid Malt Extract (60 min)

Specialty Grains:
1.0 lbs Crystal Malt 120L
1.0 lbs CaraRed Malt
0.5 lbs CaraFoam Malt
0.25 lbs Chocolate Malt

1 lb 8 oz Wildflower Honey (15 min)

2.0 oz Willamette Hops [3.9% AA] (60 min)

2 gal Apple Cider
3.0 lbs Granny Smith Apples, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch pieces
2.0 lbs Gala Apples, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch pieces
3 Whole Cinnamon Sticks
1 Whole Nutmeg, chopped
1 oz Ginger Root, peeled and chopped
1 oz Coriander Seed, crushed

1 tablet Whirlfloc (20 min — clarifier)

White Labs Irish Ale Yeast WLP004

4 oz corn sugar (bottling)

———

Create a yeast starter two days in advance.

Add cider and 1 gallon of water to kettle. Heat to 155°F.

Steep grains at 155°F for 30 minutes.

Remove grains, turn off heat, add malt extract while stirring.

Bring to a boil. Add hops.

At 20 minutes, add Whirlfloc tablet.

At 15 minutes, turn off heat. Add honey while stirring. Add apples, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger root, and coriander.

Return to boil for remaining 15 minutes.

Chill wort to below 80°F. Rack to fermenter and dilute to 5 gallons. Pitch yeast starter and aerate thoroughly. Allow to ferment to completion at 65 - 70°F.

Rack fermented beer to secondary fermenter. Age for 1 - 2 weeks.

Rack to bottling bucket. Boil corn sugar with 1 c filtered water and add to beer. Mix well.

Bottle. Age for two weeks.

One important note: Do not use apple cider that has preservatives in it. The preservatives will either kill or severely inhibit the yeast. You’ll most likely have to go to either Wholefoods or a farmer’s market to get un-preserved cider. Get an extra gallon while you’re there, to prepare for the eventuality of you drinking a lot of it before you can get to brewing.

For the apples, we were shooting for a slightly tart apple character, so we used more Granny Smiths than Galas. Taste your cider beforehand and adjust your apple selections to your liking. You may want to use many different apples to give the beer lots of apple complexity. My style, personally, is to focus on one or two flavors and really showcase them (which is also why I tend to write recipes with only one breed of hop). Some people like to mix it up. Do what makes you happy. Pet a kitty. Give hugs.

Honeywise, your best bet is to take a ride to your local farmer’s market. The honey you can get at the supermarket is perfectly valid, but you’ll probably find that you get higher quality stuff from local farmers. Ours came from the agricultural prodigies at Griggstown Quail Farm.

A couple more tips: Instead of trying to chop the nutmeg, wrap it in paper towel and hit it with a mallet. Try to resist the urge to stuff your nose in the freshly smashed nutmeg. You won’t be able to. It’s intoxicating, I tell you. For the coriander, pulse it in a coffee grinder for a few seconds.

Something we’re trying differently this time: All of our beers so far have come out with a lot of fruity esters. It’s yummy in most cases, but in the stout, for example, it was completely out of place. These esters are the result of the temperature in our bathroom where we keep our fermenters; warmer fermentations produce more esters. To try to contain this, at my brother-in-law Tim’s, recommendation, we filled the bathtub up with a few inches of water, set the fermenter in the water, and covered it with a wet towel. Tim says this should lower our fermentation temperature by a good 10 degrees. He’s smart.

It was a dark and stormy night. Thunder crashed and lightning flickered, casting blueish light on us as we stood around the old brew pot, with wort a’bubbling. One stir, two stirs, three times round the pot with the brew spoon, smells of midnight mischief filling the kitchen. Time to add the hops, to bitter the brew and darken our souls and holy crap a couple of hop pellets fell out of the mesh bag, rolled under the pot and straight into the flames of the gas burner! Hops on fire! Hops on fire! Gotta move the pot (oof that’s heavy), kill the gas to the burner and try to put out the hop flames without burning any fingers. Finally managing to stub out the pellets like stubbing out a cigarette’s stubborn cherry, the kitchen fills with a new aroma.

It smells like we just lit up.

That’s my best attempt at telling our smoking hops story campfire style. Luckily Ray and I have managed to avoid any true horrors when it has come to brewing. No one has lost a finger or singed off any eyelashes, and if I remember correctly, the burning hop pellet story actually comes from our first brew day, which was a quite normal day, and not a stormy night, à la the three witches in Macbeth.

I also boiled my hand in a wort geyser. Dunno if you remember. It was the one where I screamed a lot and chucked an Erlenmeyer flask at the stove.

Like most of the storefronts on High Street, if you didn’t know the Grill was there, you’d miss it mid-blink. Its stark outer facade, however, belies a cozy, bustling downstairs tavern, with brick walls, live music, multiple beer taps, and, at the back, a stairway leading up to the dining room.

The two floors have different menus. For our first trip, we chose to eat in the upstairs dining room. As Nancy, one of the grill’s owners, led us to our table, we passed the kitchen, which lies off of a landing halfway up the stairs and from which all manner of tasty smells wafted. At the top of the stairs, we were greeted by a grand piano, and a fireplace upon which an unused but ornate guestbook and a copy of Ron Paul’s The Revolution sat. Our table was in the farthest corner, in a small alcove that was just big enough for two people to eat comfortably.

The most important thing to do when you arrive at a new restaurant is to ask for the beer list. In lieu of a list, though, High Street Grill has its wait staff recite the list from memory, which I figure gives them the freedom to change the list frequently without having to print new sheets. Nice idea. Not ideal in practice. Our waiter (who appeared to be having a rough night and so I point this out in a forgiving spirit as he was otherwise very good) had some difficulty with the list, and we had trouble retaining enough of it ourselves to make a decision. After a few runs through the lineup, though, we managed to settle on a River Horse Octoberfest for myself and a Stoudt’s Fat Dog for Mel.

We’d both had Fat Dog a few times before, but this was our first taste of River Horse’s idea of an Octoberfest, which turned out to be a winner. Typical of the American version of the style, it was reddish-brown, malty, and medium-bodied, but also featured pronounced fruity esters and lots of roasty, nutty flavors. Fat Dog, of course, was its usual rich and roasty self.

We started our meal with Beer Battered Artichoke Hearts, fried nuggets of artichoke stuffed with crab and spiced cream cheese. We weren’t exactly wowed, but they were delicious. I imagine a non-fried version would have been a step up. All-in-all, not outstanding, but very good. I mean, hey, we really like artichokes.

The main course, however, blew us away.

Mel chose the Grilled Pork Tenderloin, which was served with mashed sweet potatoes, roasted cauliflower, fennel, and a sun dried cherry demi glaze. The tender and juicy pork was carefully seasoned and spiced with pie spices, and, when combined with the potato, cauliflower, fennel, and cherries, treated the mouth to an explosion of sweet and savory flavors.

For my main course, I picked the Stout Braised Beef Brisket (the waiter told us the stout was Fat Dog), served with herb mashed potatoes, sauteed spinach, and caramelized onion demi glaze. The thin strips of brisket melted in my mouth, and the pairing of bitter spinach with the starchy potatoes and sweet onions helped to bring out the flavor of the stout. I can’t imagine how this dish could possibly be improved. Maybe if it came with fifty dollars. Maybe.

Halfway through the main course, we ordered a second round of drinks. Mel went the stout route again, this time picking Sly Fox’s O’Reilly’s Stout, a dry stout with lots of roasty coffee and chocolate flavors and a big, creamy nitro head. I had Brasserie d’Achouffe’s Mc Chouffe, a unfiltered Belgian Scotch Ale that turned out to be an interesting (and tasty) mix of tangy Belgian alcohol and sweet, nutty chocolate. Definitely a brewery we’ll have to explore more of.

As for dessert, though I know it was delicious, I can’t remember it as clearly as Mel does — her being a baker and all.

We shared a molten chocolate cake that was very rich and dense without entering the land of cavity-inducing sweetness. The cake was plated with raspberry puree and cream, with a fancy-sliced strawberry as a garnish. The perfect dish to share to end the night.

While the lack of a printed beer menu made for an early speedbump, and though we weren’t super impressed with our appetizer, High Street Grill ended up treating us to an excellent meal that we’d be only too glad to experience again.