CHIT-CHAT #25 - Hither & Yon, Special Bitter

~~~

Was the last Chit-Chat truly back in January? My how time flies! I can hardly believe so much passed; 2025 I have hardly known you, and here you stand a quarter done already. Frightening thought indeed!

Still, shall I pocket that think for a moment and press on? Small secret ‘round here is how much I fancy English ales – I often quip that the favorite beer for me remains Smiley’s Best off the cask. The notion that I must include an ESB (‘Extra Special Bitter’) has been present for some time, so today I announce something in that world.

Hither & Yon I call a ‘Special Bitter’. For refreshing: ‘Bitter’ is the name for typically small English ale which has a noteworthy flavor of hops in their palate. This does not necessarily mean that the bitterness of hops are overpowering, yet the sometimes unfortunate wisdom here Stateside is that Bitter ‘is not a bitter beer at all’, which is not fair either. I think the question is answered with the understanding that American hops and Continental hops are quite different in their flavors, especially in the modern day.

Modern American hops, which still dominate the ‘craft’ beer market in the form of India Pale Ales, are notable especially for their flavor of fruits – citrus in particular, but many varieties are present. The Continental hops conversely have more muted flavors I find; English hops have, to my palate, a greener flavor. This might be thought of as grassier, herbal, and even in some circumstances mossy, you might say earthy. If you drink a beer expected something of the sour or tart bitterness of grapefruit, lemon, et al. you shall be surprised with a softer, less intense experience! Noble hops are a different animal either.

Naturally, the individual’s own preferences must be respected, though for The Prodigal my own tongue leads the parade. I am not so great a fan of fruited beers or American hops generally, thus my style is as it is. For Hither & Yon, I wanted to have a less immediately ‘bitter’ English ale than Smiley’s Best, but with more presence of hops than my darker varieties such as Pubtalker or Smiley’s Last Stand. The end result has full body, a touch of the particular note of Special Roast malt, and some definite bitterness of the aforementioned English sort I spoke of. It is somewhat subtle, but unlike Smiley’s Best this is not a beer where the hops carry the show themselves, from wherever they originate.

The name was inspired by some little thoughts: the notion of seeking for something, and to where that quest may take you. As we are in the midst of Lent, having celebrated the halfway point in the Fast just this week, this is a time of contemplation. The image on the bottle is a sketch by Richard Henry Brock (one of the famous Brock siblings; excellent painters all) from the 1924 edition of John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress, which is an early Christian tract written first in 1678. The story is a straight allegory of mankind’s striving towards God – in this time of the year, which has spun along so quickly, this sort of thought is in many of our minds right now.

I presently have Hither & Yon available in bottles, and have a great firkin-cask ready to be deployed as soon as the present cask (Smiley’s Last Stand) is polished off. I hope you will give it a try, should you have the opportunity.

Lastly, the book pictured is my own copy of The Pilgrim’s Progress, the edition published by Hurst & Company of New York. Even with a bit of research I could not determine the exact publishing date, but it should be in the vicinity of the beginning of the twentieth century. Sources say 1906; some 1910. It was my grandfathers, and would have been an old book even when he held it.

Posted March 28th, 2025

  • 7.3%

  • 45

  • Barley

  • Northern Brewer, Kent Golding, & Fuggles

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #24 - Bauer & Brauer, Kölsch

~~~

The first Chit-Chat of the new year! How odd does the turning of the age feel; every year comes just as the last, and so at each ringing I feel the same kind of ennui. It is an unhappy custom, which I presume to be merely one commiserater among countless. Well, since the biting cold of the last weeks is perhaps abating, and I do have something new to discuss, I shall endeavor to do so with manful character, even though I ask your forgiveness for my brevity.

Over the prior decade, where ‘craft’ beer has once more strutted the stage of the American food-psyche, a multitude of the beers of the world have come into view. Kölsch, from the city of Cologne, is among such styles which have especially now become known. Kölsch, though it tastes rather akin to a clean, golden-hued lager, is curiously fashioned of top-fermenting ‘ale’ yeast. History tells us that the city was known for using this species of yeast for much of its past, and when in the 17th century the alternative bottom-fermenting (lager) yeast began to rise in popularity, edict from the Town Council demanded that the means ‘of old’ be practices solely within their jurisdiction. Thus while lager became the norm throughout the Germanic people, Cologne stuck to its practices of ale.

Today, Kölsch is still considered in this way – even though its flavor is undeniably cousin to Germanic beers, the ‘conventional’ sort at least, it is quite different in its making. As I’ve written of before, top- and bottom-fermenting yeasts are in fact different species of microorganisms. That represents a marked dissociation; as the temperature variance between the favored environment of these fungus is notable.

As for Bauer & Brauer? It is a rather traditional interpretation of Kölsch: clean, with a dash of hops at the front (all noble varieties) and a light, yet firm, malt backbone. The name involves several references ranging from the my Mother’s maiden name, to my family’s historic roots and my connection to them. You might translate the title as ‘Farmer & Brewer’; both labors which I aspire to continue.

Many of you good people have had the opportunity to try Bauer & Brauer already at the tap, and I am pleased that thus far its reception has been positive. Should you wish to enjoy some from the bottle, I now have that option prepared as well. I will be bringing a selection with me to the Farmer’s Market in the morning, tomorrow.

Posted January 10th, 2025

  • 5%

  • 24

  • Barley

  • Hallertauer, Cascade

  • Kölsch

CHIT-CHAT #23 - A Winter Idyl, Old Porter & Mulled Ale

~~~

My how the last few days have slipped by – I fully intended to have this description written and posted earlier, but perhaps you’ll excuse me on account of the Holiday. Now to business: that Thanksgiving is upon us will naturally steer your mind towards the future, namely the approaching Nativity. I adore the winter, the chilly air, wood-fires and all. So quiet, pretty, and pure the world becomes in preparation for the most monumental birth ever. When this period of the year arrives I never fail to take up song (under my breath, typically) in the form of the old Christmas carols. God rest ye merry gentlemen, et al.

If you will follow my trailing thought, what next might come to pass is Charles Dickens. You may be asking by now what this has to do with beer, and perhaps even what exactly is the ‘mulled ale’ of which this Chit-Chat speaks. Well, bear with me a spell. This year I have been especially enjoying the works of the much-esteemed Mister Dickens, and recently I completed Our Mutual Friend – where a pair of good fellows enjoy a warming drink of ‘burnt sherry’ within the comfortable embrace of the riverside pub the ‘Six Jolly Fellowship Porters’. The steaming cocktail involves sweet sherry cooked upon a fire, lemon and spices, and is served hot to men chilled to their bones. Interesting, thought I.

I had the bountiful fortune this year to attend the Candia Farmers’ Market once more, wherein I had the even better fortune to enjoy a taste of the ‘mulled wine’ from Apollo Vineyards, of Derry’s fame. Quite tasty! I have long delighted in glühwein, the Germanic hot spiced wine, so I found the drink of Apollo’s frankly Dionysian (forgive me). You may by now have some concept of our destination. Let us return once more to Dickens. The Pickwick Papers, upon the discussion of a sect of the temperance movement (humbug!) provide an illustration of a man to whom I have kinship:

H. Walker, tailor, wife, and two children. When in better circumstances, owns to having been in the constant habit of drinking ale and beer; says he is not certain whether he did not twice a week, for twenty years, taste “dog’s nose,” which your committee find upon inquiry, to be compounded of warm porter, moist sugar, gin, and nutmeg (a groan, and ‘So it is!’ from an elderly female). Is now out of work and penniless; thinks it must be the porter (cheers) or the loss of the use of his right hand; is not certain which, but thinks it very likely that, if he had drunk nothing but water all his life, his fellow-workman would never have stuck a rusty needle in him, and thereby occasioned his accident (tremendous cheering). Has nothing but cold water to drink, and never feels thirsty (great applause).

Mister H. Walker had some proper fine taste in his choice of drink, which must be commended likewise as we commend his conquering of how the drink worsened him. Reading Mister H. Walker’s testimony I thought it only upright to experience what the man subjected himself to. Here begins my affidavit: ‘dog’s nose’ is undoubtedly delicious, and potent. Though we may balk in our 21st-century attitudes at its formulation, the enjoyment of ale or other drinks served ‘burnt up’ was of the yesteryear partaken plentifully when the weather proved less than sublime. Take, for example, the recipe for ‘swig’ found within ‘Apician Morsels’ (1829); treatise penned by the exquisitely-named Mister Dick Humelbergius Secundus (incredible!): “Put half a pound of Lisbon sugar into a bowl; pour into it one pint of warm beer; grate a nutmeg, and some ginger into it; […] and it is fit for use.” Mister Secundus has many further recipes expounding upon the concept of ‘wassail’, or ‘punch’, all of which contain ale enjoyed warmed with sugar & spices.

So by now surely you have cottoned to my theme – I wanted to find some means of serving this ancient English drink to you, my beloved patrons. The matter was rather more experimental than many of my other brewing endeavors, as only after determining unequivocally that yes, these drinks are quite tasty, could I think about packaging. It would do no good to sweeten the beer with sugar prior to bottling, as all my beers are unfiltered and fermentation would continue unabated. Eventually I decided to leave the ‘cooking’ to you, the patron; I would merely furnish the ale and the spices.

Thus A Winter Idyl came into being – it is, without being turned into ‘Dog’s Nose’ what I refer to as an ‘Old Porter’, which is to say Porter that has been aged some time (six months in this case). Furthermore the Idyl is fairly dry, somewhat acidic for a Porter. As the acidity of all three: cider, coffee, and wine accentuate their flavor when heated, I decided to follow suite. You might certainly drink the Idyl on its own if that is your preference, though I would suppose that it may prove unpopular all on its own. Yet, when you follow the recipe directions which I have included with each bottle, you may come to enjoy this very traditional English winter-drink just as much as I have!

I shall leave you with two closing remarks: the name, A Winter Idyl, is another piece from Mister John Greenleaf Whittier, who I have grown to consider a favorite among 19th-century American poets. He wrote in 1866 the narrative poem ‘Snow-Bound: A Winter Idyl’. Worth a read. Finally, as you savor a mug of punch with your beloved this Christmastide raise a voice in song to the olden Wassailing tune:

Wassail! Wassail! All over the town,
Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown;
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink unto thee!

Posted November 28th, 2024

  • 5% (when mulled is 3%)

  • 12

  • Barley

  • Northern Brewer & Fuggles

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #22 - Longmeadow Fayre, Mild Ale

~~~

Seems like I’ve happened upon something of a rhythm – about one new beer a month. This time ‘round I have a return to the English formula that I’ve been meaning to address anew. Since The Prodigal’s draught list has not reflected it too well lately, I am quite the fan of these old-country ales, in fact I’d be so bold as to call that category my favorite. English Ales and American Ales are rather similar, though the English varieties tend towards the lower-ABV end of the spectrum and much like that homely, drear land they are mellow; made for drinking not sipping.

Mild Ale, or as nowadays often referred to ‘Dark Mild’, is a middling-low strength, minimally hopped ale that tends into the depths of darker colors. It needn’t be as deep as stout or porter though: you might compare it to the better known, though I believe tragically underappreciated, style of Brown Ale. There are differences however as browns are typically stronger in alcohol and heavier in their use of hops, yet not significantly so. The styles are similar, indeed. In my conception Mild Ale truly differs from Brown in its body – considering the especially low ABV, the challenge is to fashion an ale that has fullness, is not watery, and has sufficient character to carry it. Less roasted, less sweetness, neither so nutty, but all the same with some degree of richness. Truly, ‘mild’ is the best word for it.

Once upon a time mild beer was drank almost exclusively throughout England, of varying strengths, up until the popular revolution of beer that was bitter, and though the style is far from gone, it is sadly too often forgotten. Thus it was natural to attempt its inclusion myself, and I dare say that mine is quite up to snuff.

The name is another of my ‘jokes’. Before my home of Auburn was incorporated it had several names, among which was the title of Longmeadow. ‘Fayre’ is an archaic word that may mean both ‘fair’ as we wield it today, and ‘fare’ as we eat it. Thus this ale is ‘the fare of Auburn fair’. Happily poetical!

Posted October 18th, ‘24.

  • 4.2%

  • 10

  • Barley

  • East Kent Goldings

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #22 - Fool’s Fest, Märzen Lager

~~~

I do have one more bit of news to proclaim this week, and it has been quite a long time in the making! I expect that many of you good people will know that officially Oktoberfest begins in the bier-gardens of Munich this Saturday, the twenty-first of September. As I mentioned yesterday, The Prodigal will alas be closed on the day-of, as I shall be busy over yonder in Derry – however! That does not mean I shan’t keep the holiday! Which brings me to this day’s subject: the lovely topic of märzen.

Also known by the name of märzenbier, or rendered in our English-tongue ‘March beer’, is the ancient traditional brew of the Oktoberfest celebration. So much so is the linkage that beyond Bavaria the style is often referred to simply as an ‘Oktoberfest’ itself. But it is a beloved drink, though it is not nowadays the most frequently served beverage at that famous harvest festival, having been supplanted sometime in the twentieth century by the paler, smoother Munich festbier.

Which is a shame in my valued opinion as the märzen, though the glowing golden festbier does deserve its honored stature, has more body and chew to it. It is a beer with bite! Malty, bready, but not lacking in the noble bitterness of select Germanic Nobel Hops, of sumptuous strength that will knock a man flat – but only after a handful of litres. My Fool’s Fest is no different! I aim for a good body, malt aplenty, a richness that does not quickly fade, and the readily detectable characteristics of Old World hops: bright, herbal, ancient.

Why now the name ‘March beer’? Why now Fool’s, you ask? Well, I shall explain: not merely do the Munich brewers have their reinheitsgebot to contend with (regarding the purity of their ingredients), so too was their own ordinance: beer shall not be crafted between Saint Michael’s Day and Saint George’s Day (for those of us unaccustomed to the Latin Liturgical calendar, September 29th through April 23rd). Thus March became a busy month! All the final brewing needs must be completed in that time, and so the name came to be. For my own part, only tangentially linked to the Bavarian traditions, I first made this beer as a homebrewer, and by happenstance lucked into the proper time of year via a cheeky April 1st endeavor.

So who is the fool? Myself, for keeping my own small, slight, silly tradition – The Prodigal’s anniversary is April 1st; the Fool’s Fest must be brewed on April 1st, and aged throughout the swelt of summer thus that it might be enjoyed by you wonderful fools who attend yourselves to my doors. The bottle too is adorned with another much beloved fool. Can you guess who he is?

I shall steal a quip, as Shakespeare wrote, through the mouth of a nameless neighbor: “And here’s a pot of good double beer, neighbor: drink, and fear not your man.” (Henry VI part 2, act 2, scene 3). Thus begins the time of the year for beer, so go forth fearlessly thou renegade and play the fool, as do we all upon this mortal globe.

Prost!

Posted September 20th, ‘24.

  • 6.3%

  • 24

  • Malted Barley

  • Northern Brewer, Hallertauer

  • Munich Lager

CHIT-CHAT #21 – Johnny Come Lately, Graf

~~~

What a week I have had! Much would I have much preferred to make this conversation earlier, but fate it seems did not let that path open to me. Well, in comings and goings to the shop you may have heard me talk something about stowing away a bit of cider from last Autumn. Indeed, the exceptional people at Apple Hill Farm did provide me quite a volume of their fresh-pressed cider in sometime November, 2023. This raw cider was so exceptional that I decided to simply let it run wild, the cellar providing a decently stable temperature all through the Winter.

Now that six months about have passed, this wholly wild-fermented cider I deemed to be well-done. A bit tart, a bit funky, but overall rather drinkable. Now for the next part of the experiment – one of those first breweries I ever visited when I was a younger lad in Pennsylvania (its name escapes me now) was situated upon their very own orchard. From there, among my first ever specialty beers, I drank a pint of something called ‘Graf’. This unique type of Ale was made from a mixture of cider and beer! You may by now see what I’m about.

There are a number of ways to make such a beverage with regards to how the two components are each fermented. In my case I thought the most interesting result would be produced via blending, and then re-fermentation. I recently had ready a batch of my Prodigious, which is perhaps my personal favorite Farmhouse Ale in the current roster. Since it has a pleasant citrus undertone and a bit of substance to it, I figured it might pair nicely with the tart, floral dryness of the cider. Hence the result was a blending of 40% cider and 60% Farmhouse Ale after each had reached their terminal gravity. After another length of time acclimating to one another, the pair has since been bottled up.

I am quite pleased with the result – the flavor of the cider comes through quite forward, with the funk of the wild ferment happily subdued, though not wholly hidden, by the addition of the Ale. It should be an excellent summer drink, and I look forward to continuing experimentation with more blends when I have the opportunity.

Naturally the name and label are references to Jonathan Chapman, the legendary Johnny Appleseed of American myth (and reality). Plus, a ‘johnny-come-lately’ may be used to identify anyone of sluggish, plodding nature. Given the length of time the cider fermented for, I think it’s fitting enough.

As a final note, please be aware that Johnny Come Lately does contain Sulfites.

Posted June 28th, ‘24.

  • 6%

  • 20

  • Apples, Barley, Oats, Rye, Spelt

  • Northern Brewer & Spalter

  • Kviek & Wild

CHIT-CHAT #20 - Smiley’s Last Stand, Old Ale

~~~

Here

With my beer

I sit

While golden moments flit.

Alas!

They pass

Unheeded by;

And, as they fly,

I,

Being dry,

Sit idly sipping here

My beer.

-George Arnold

Three styles of beer that the annals of English brewing history use almost interchangeably are the terms ‘Old Ale’, ‘Strong Ale’, and ‘Stock Ale’. From the 17th century, Mr. Ray Daniels writes in ‘Designing Great Beers’, the term ‘ale’ has been used to indicate alcoholic strength and quality instead of the style of yeast being deployed as we say today – thus ‘Strong Ale’ might as well be a redundancy. ‘Stock’ can likewise with ‘Old’ be used to indicate a beer that has been aged for some length of time prior to being sold, however the former has been oddly used to designate an ale with significant presence of hops (the same brewing manual what gave The Prodigal it’s Proven Sire stated this definition). So terminology is not historically clear for this type of English beer, and even today all three names are often intermixed.

What has settled in the minds of modern brewers is that, whichever name you choose, the drink has the heavy malt-forward sweetness and presence of alcoholic-flavors (“boozy”) that might be expected of fortified wines such as Port or Madeira, instead of the common notion of beer. As I’ve put it before, there are two types of beer: those varieties for drinking and those for sipping. Smiley’s Last Stand is of the latter family. It is indeed rich, sweeter, has some subtle dried-fruit flavors, and the indistinguishable presence of alcohol; not to burn, but to warm.

As a concluding thought: the name. There’s no real story there – but to assuage any thinking that might appear crop up at its apparent implication, it merely sounded right, so there it is.

Posted April 20th, 2024

  • 10%

  • 25

  • Barley

  • Chinook

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #19 - Cry Fowl!, American Farmhouse Ale

~~~

Time I think for another farmhouse-type of beer. Did I not promise two releases this week? Though you may be glad to read this shall be a more brief diatribe than the last, for the simple fact there is less that needs to be said. As I’ve not-so expeditiously discussed before the concept of ‘farmhouse beer’ is of the more loose sort as far as style guidelines go, although there are some national traditions where stringent qualities may be anticipated. The Franco-Belgian, Scandinavian, Germanic, and so on – even for the earliest American colonists in the form of frontier beers, molasses beers, spruce beers, etc.

Yet one of the major defining qualities of farmhouse beer from the historical perspective of the brewing tradition is their necessity, which is to say, beer that is made to be drunk and readily. Thus this new beer was made for the purpose of being drunk. Which, while that may not sound inventive when taken in the context of a brewery, has at least a bit of meaning: the flavors of my beer rotations lately have been oft of the smaller sort (regarding ABV) with milder flavors; beer for drinking and not sipping. What is the missing element?

Naturally I needed a beer that was juicier, had a prominent fruit flavor, and with some good cheer to it. Cry Fowl! (yet the exclamation point is necessary, being part of the name) fits that niche. Resting at the comfortable 7.7% ABV, it has above modest strength without being of the Olympic variety, has notable if not unabashed flavors of ripe fruit and honey, and is rather on the sweeter side of things. Kveik yeast was used, though you would be forgiven thinking perhaps a Belgian strain had made an appearance, as outcome could be fairly likened to a Bièr de Garde. All in all I believe it fits a lacking position in the lineup and will be a welcome accompaniment to the properly old-fashioned styles I generally pursue.

Regarding the name and bottle: the former was a carry-over from the among first iteration of the recipe where I was experimenting with the use of cracked corn, which proved to be an ineffective means of extracting sugar. Rather than ‘cry foul’, ‘fowl’ was substituted to suggest chickens – you get the joke. I enjoyed the name and the ‘pun’ (if you’ll give me that) so I kept it. The label depicts the Bremen Town Musicians, the image being from the 1909 illustrated edition of the Fairy Tales of the Brother’s Grim, drawn by the illustrious Arthur Rackham. Since I was a child I have always dearly loved the story, even though the version I recall best was Richard Scarry’s.

Posted March 29th, ‘24.

  • 7.7%

  • 20

  • Barley, Corn, Wheat & Honey

  • Spalter & Styrian Goldings

  • Kveik

CHIT-CHAT #18 - Proven Sire, American Bock

~~~

The half-brother to the Time Was; making this beer proved to be something of a trying experiment – trying of the patience that is. After having been so thoroughly pleased with one pre-prohibition lager I decided another would be necessary before I was satisfied, and as it just so happened a certain copy of Zymurgy (the homebrew magazine) had fallen into my lap. Fortuitously this, the March 2023 edition, included an extensive breakdown by one Peter Symons of a 1904 Hantke’s Brauer-Manual and a couple years of brewing parameters thereafter.

At this time in America’s brewing history the landscape was dominated by trained professionals whose alma maters, such as Hantke’s Brewing School and Laboratories of Milwaukee, Wisconsin - where our young squire cut his teeth - prepared them to enter the industrial-scale production necessary to slake the thirst of burgeoning nation. Beer was then, as now, big business. The individual whose notes Mister Symons was gracious enough to divulge was merely one soldier in this war against the parched masses; he may have been quite like the men who who found themselves working the kettles of Old Lang. Well, as Mister Symons explains quite thoroughly, the squire was fond of his record-keeping, as every brewer should be. The articles lays out how the brewer measured his batches, using a relatively small selection (by today’s standards) of malts and hops in varied ratios to create eight different styles of ale and beer for his employer. What caught my eye, as you are likely expectant to read, was the bock.

Bocks originated out of Einbeck sometime in the 14th century or thereabouts, and in the context of the German brewing tradition are suggestive of being strong beer. However as the diaspora spread across the globe, in particular into the Americans, a great deal of ‘diluting’ occurred, mainly where alcohol is considered. On the other hand there was a ‘concentration’ in the realm of color: we think of Bocks as being exclusively a dark lager, while the literature suggests that in Germany they could run the gamut from pale to black. In any event, the ‘American’ Bock was one of those beers that found its way from the breweries of Lower Saxony to the brewing schools of Milwaukee. Our dedicated brewer, the squire whose aforementioned notes began this journey, explained that his Bock is mostly of malted barley with corn, yes corn, just a hint of roast malt and an aggressive hop schedule of Olds and Pac. This latter cultivar is another mystery of the olden days, while ‘Olds’ has been mentioned here prior.

I took some liberties with the recipe, but kept the spirit intact. What the mystery-man wrote of as ‘Pac’ hops I substituted for the classic German Hallertauer, while I used the roasted-type Brown malt in favor of typical ‘Roasted Barley’ for some variety. At this point you may wonder in what regard was this process trying? The answer would be in part the fermentation, as using an older lager strain than those of modernity I found that to be sluggish, but to a greater degree the lagering stage. As you are no doubt well aware, the cold slumber to which lagers are traditionally subjected is a mystical practice, an inverse of hibernation. While the bear crawls into his cave fattened, warm and awakes an haggard beast needing a good meal (or drink) – the lager may very well venture into its stasis an unlovable, green liquor not fit for fodder yet emerge the wholesome, completed drink we expect. As a butterfly, you see.

Proven Sire, this beer, tried my patience in this regard. It did indeed begin its snooze quite despised by its creator, and at times I did consider venting the whole batch down the drain. Thankfully, better judgment prevailed. Like many things time, alone could heal the wounds and I am quite pleased with the result after some weeks of waiting. Proven Sire is certainly malt-forward, dry rather than sweet, with more hops than may be expected, yet pleasant for that. The finish has a distinctly biscuit-like, almost nutty flavor, akin to crackers. As I found myself enjoying the final product, I am sure you will likewise.

Some final thoughts: bocks are typically depicted with a goat on their bottle, as the saying of ‘Einbeck’ to a southern German accent sounds more like ‘ein bock’, or that is, billy goat. Thus mine own Squire makes his debut on the label! As well, the timing is appropriate, as bocks are a traditional Lenten fare I am told.

Posted March 26th, ‘24

  • 5.5%

  • 24

  • Barley & Corn

  • Olds & Hallertauer

  • Lager

CHIT-CHAT #17 - Time Was, American Lager

~~~

Good afternoon my friends! On this lovely afternoon, where the sun reminds that Spring is near-approaching, I figured it a fine time to talk something about a new beer that I have available, one that you will surely enjoy as the weather starts to warm: Time Was, an American Lager.

From the late-19th century onward into our own era, the industrial production of golden-hued lagers has dominated the landscape of American brewing. Lager is a reliable, if delicate, product whose consistency when fashioned under the proper circumstances makes it quite the brewer’s delight. In fact, I would probably say that I find lagers my most favorite type of beer to make as their requirements necessitate an interesting conundrum to the brewer’s trade. Ales, for their sturdy flavors and the resiliency of their yeast, are more forgiving with the environment of their fermentation whereas lagers require precision. The subtler flavors and lower temperature likewise mean that mistakes (off-flavors) are more difficult to solve. Diacetyl, which tastes buttery, as well as the presence of sulfur and sulfides are some common roadblocks the brewer may encounter. The first time I attempted to make a lager in the context of homebrewing, the resulting un-cellared bottles could not escape the green-apple flavor of acetaldehyde – which is not an awful flavor in a low-presence, but too much is unbearable.

As for this lager, which I can assure you does not suffer from any of the above, has something of a lengthy history to me. Sometime back in 2021 a cousin of mine reached out with a picture of a scrap of paper from 1906; the handwritten note of her husband’s ancestor, Mikel Lang. Old Lang was none other than a brewmaster from his own company in Chicago, having emigrated to the Windy City in the late 1880s from Bavaria. Old Lang’s notes detailed the process of his for producing pale lager! The question my cousin posed to me then was if I could possibly recreate that recipe – now, roughly four years on, I have been able to do something like that.

There were some complexities in deciphering Old Lang’s recipe: the ingredients that he had access too were not identical to what we have today, in both hops and malt. One major example: his recipe called for ‘cerealine’ which is a corn grit most similar to cornflakes today, but not identical. To satisfy this ingredient I eventually settled on ‘flaked torrefied maize’ from Crisp Malting. Torrefaction is a process of cooking the grain at low temperatures to ‘puff’ the kernel; akin to none other than corn-puffs. To further replicate Old Lang’s methods, I cooked these grains in a side-boiler before adding them into the mash, to fully break down the grist and deepen the flavor. For hops, the nearest I could identify with some assistance from a fortuitous article from Zymurgy regarding pre-prohibition brewing, was the modern Cluster variety – to replicate ‘Olds’ likely grown in New York back then.

Thus, after far longer than I would have liked, I think I can say with some confidence that Time Was is as faithful a recreation of Old Lang’s work as I can manage at this time. How does it taste, you may ask? Exactly as it should! Light, fresh and crisp, the presence of malt without being cloying or rich. Suffice to say, I am very pleased with the result – you may expect that Time Was will with luck become a regular among my lineup. So in conclusion, as the season of baseball draws near, I hope you might consider enjoying this brew whenever you find yourself thinking of when Time Was.

Posted February 9th, ‘24

  • 4.5%

  • 35

  • Barley & Corn

  • Olds

  • Lager

CHIT-CHAT #16 - Mighty Cordial, Christmas Ale

~~~

Excerpt from 'A Christmas Carol', by Mister Charles Dickens, from the Project Gutenberg, 1992 version:

* * *

Old Fezziwig laid down his pen, and looked up at the clock, which pointed to the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands; adjusted his capacious waistcoat; laughed all over himself, from his shoes to his organ of benevolence; and called out in a comfortable, oily, rich, fat, jovial voice:

“Yo ho, there! Ebenezer! Dick!”

Scrooge’s former self, now grown a young man, came briskly in, accompanied by his fellow-’prentice.

“Dick Wilkins, to be sure!” said Scrooge to the Ghost. “Bless me, yes. There he is. He was very much attached to me, was Dick. Poor Dick! Dear, dear!”

“Yo ho, my boys!” said Fezziwig. “No more work to-night. Christmas Eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let’s have the shutters up,” cried old Fezziwig, with a sharp clap of his hands, “before a man can say Jack Robinson!”

You wouldn’t believe how those two fellows went at it! They charged into the street with the shutters—one, two, three—had ’em up in their places—four, five, six—barred ’em and pinned ’em—seven, eight, nine—and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting like race-horses.

“Hilli-ho!” cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk, with wonderful agility. “Clear away, my lads, and let’s have lots of room here! Hilli-ho, Dick! Chirrup, Ebenezer!”

Clear away! There was nothing they wouldn’t have cleared away, or couldn’t have cleared away, with old Fezziwig looking on. It was done in a minute. Every movable was packed off, as if it were dismissed from public life for evermore; the floor was swept and watered, the lamps were trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire; and the warehouse was as snug, and warm, and dry, and bright a ball-room, as you would desire to see upon a winter’s night.

In came a fiddler with a music-book, and went up to the lofty desk, and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fifty stomach-aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men and women employed in the business. In came the housemaid, with her cousin, the baker. In came the cook, with her brother’s particular friend, the milkman. In came the boy from over the way, who was suspected of not having board enough from his master; trying to hide himself behind the girl from next door but one, who was proved to have had her ears pulled by her mistress. In they all came, one after another; some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling; in they all came, anyhow and everyhow. Away they all went, twenty couple at once; hands half round and back again the other way; down the middle and up again; round and round in various stages of affectionate grouping; old top couple always turning up in the wrong place; new top couple starting off again, as soon as they got there; all top couples at last, and not a bottom one to help them! When this result was brought about, old Fezziwig, clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out, “Well done!” and the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter, especially provided for that purpose. But scorning rest, upon his reappearance, he instantly began again, though there were no dancers yet, as if the other fiddler had been carried home, exhausted, on a shutter, and he were a bran-new man resolved to beat him out of sight, or perish.

There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there was a great piece of Cold Roast, and there was a great piece of Cold Boiled, and there were mince-pies, and plenty of beer. But the great effect of the evening came after the Roast and Boiled, when the fiddler (an artful dog, mind! The sort of man who knew his business better than you or I could have told it him!) struck up “Sir Roger de Coverley.” Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple, too; with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them; three or four and twenty pair of partners; people who were not to be trifled with; people who would dance, and had no notion of walking.

But if they had been twice as many—ah, four times—old Fezziwig would have been a match for them, and so would Mrs. Fezziwig. As to her, she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of the term. If that’s not high praise, tell me higher, and I’ll use it. A positive light appeared to issue from Fezziwig’s calves. They shone in every part of the dance like moons. You couldn’t have predicted, at any given time, what would have become of them next. And when old Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig had gone all through the dance; advance and retire, both hands to your partner, bow and curtsey, corkscrew, thread-the-needle, and back again to your place; Fezziwig “cut”—cut so deftly, that he appeared to wink with his legs, and came upon his feet again without a stagger.

When the clock struck eleven, this domestic ball broke up. Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side of the door, and shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went out, wished him or her a Merry Christmas. When everybody had retired but the two ’prentices, they did the same to them; and thus the cheerful voices died away, and the lads were left to their beds; which were under a counter in the back-shop.

* * *

Posted December 21st, ‘23

  • 7.5%

  • 14

  • Barley & Brown Sugar

  • Chinook & Spices

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #15 - Mum’s The Word, Oatmeal Stout

~~~

Though they may not be a glamorous grain, oats have been utilized alongside barley, wheat, et al. for as long as there has been agriculture and there has been beer. In the hardly kind words of Dr. Johnson's 1755 dictionary, oats are 'a grain, which in England is generally given to horses but in Scotland supports the people.' Yet in spite of his uncharitable characterization, oats are a natural accompaniment in many a fermented draught. That they impart a creamier, fuller and softer mouthfeel almost reminiscent of rich raw milk makes it a natural pairing for the stout. The coffee, chocolate, and sundry flavors that are common therein may be upheld by an enrichening backbone of oats, and thus the dubbed Oatmeal Stout came into being.

Though the grain had been utilized for hundreds of years in brewing, particularly in the northern reaches of Albion, the term 'oatmeal stout' truly was bestowed in the late nineteenth-century, where advertisements began to appear touting its healthful properties. All things being as they are regarding the healthsomeness of beer, oats do impart their due portion - their relatively high protein content does merit a measure of notice. A pint of such a stout may be made a meal in itself. The drinking classes of yore, yoked with their troublesome work, began many a tiresome day in such a manner. But let us not proscribe the past onto today's manners.

Mum's The Word is in definition a very simple stout: following an age old method that I shall not be divulging further, for, as it were, 'mum's the word.' What you can take to heart is that it is a light, drinkable stout that hits all the hallmarks of its style while not skipping in the quality of oats. The Irish and the Scots do have something on their English cousins, their oats are of much finer quality; absolutely wasted on horses.

Posted December 8th, ‘23

  • 4.5%

  • 24

  • Barley & Oats

  • Northern Brewer & Kent Goldings

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #14 - The House That Jack Built, Autumn Ale

~~~

"This is the house that Jack built.
This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built...(and so on)"
-Unknown

By now you may have an idea that I've an appreciation for little poems, rhymes, and ditties of all sorts. Frankly, I do wish that in America we had kept the old tradition alive of drinking songs, as was done in the public houses of old - but alas as the world grows bigger the small things are lain aside. Once upon some hundred years ago this was still the case in our fair colonies: I have some books to prove it. In particular, 'Early American Beverages' by John Hull Brown, has this little number:

"Oh we can make liquor to sweeten our lips,
Of pumpkins, of parsnips, of walnut-tree chips."
-Unknown

Pumpkin! There are not so many good feelings for fair weather as the Autumn in New England. I find that the very air itself comes alive with the scent of the season, and the brewhouse is no different. Even if you tire of pumpkin-spice-this or pumpkin-spice-that, the pumpkin was indeed of critical importance to our forefathers in surviving the hardship of colonial life in North America. Thought in Europe as peasant food; as fodder for stock, the humble pumpkin-squash of all shapes and sizes were among the stuff that made this nation in its infancy.

Including, naturally, finding its way into beer. Colonists loved beer, as did (do) all men of Albion - it may as well be what fills our veins. Sugar, molasses, spice, and most critically pumpkin found its way into the vats of American brewers when barley was scarce. It New England history, nay American history, to drink this hearty stuff.

Which is why it was so critical for me to include such a beer into my roster. Pumpkin Ales, or also called Autumn Ales, are very much up to interpretation. My own 'Jack' was made in the manner I thought best: with fresh roasted pumpkins from both the good people of Apple Hill Farm past Concord, and my own dear mother's patch. The malt bill is half American 6-row Barley, for that home-grown touch, and half English Pale Ale Malt to represent the stretching of import that olden brewers must have done. Brown sugar from the Caribbean, plus an aggressive spicing of Jamaican pepper, Saigon cinnamon, and orient ginger, not to mention vanilla of Belize too. All the explored New World found its way into this beer, as might've been the case long ago. It pours a deep red that borders on mahogany-brown, with some raw haze of the pumpkin-starch, and a deep, subtle sweetness that is welcome for pairing with pie (of which kind you know). The alcohol is a welcome 8% by volume.

Thought it may have taken longer than I had originally hoped, I am very pleased with the end result and would encourage you to try a bottle should you have the chance.

In the wise words of one tremendous American:

"There cannot be good living where there is not good drinking."
-Benjamin Franklin

Posted October 20th, ‘23

  • 8%

  • 16

  • Barley, Wheat, Brown Sugar & Pumpkin

  • Northern Brewer & Spices

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #13 - Too Clever By Half, Witbier

~~~

Wheat has a long history in the world of beer-brewing, being used extensively by all beer loving cultures across Europe and beyond. In general, it has a somewhat lighter, bread-like, more sweet flavor than barley when utilized and is characteristically known for the hazy appearance its inclusion provides. This is a direct result of the quantity of protein present in the grain; wheat has a higher proportion than barley and these larger, unfermentable molecules reflect light while in suspension, hence the hue. Yeast also contributes to this picture, as these beers are nearly always unfiltered. The protein additionally assist in supporting a crowning head of foam atop the glass.

Too Clever By Half is designed as a 'witbier', which is a near-cousin of the more classically regarded 'hefeweizen' or the modern 'American wheat beer'. They have an old history, ranging back as far as the 14th-century or older, and are particularly associated with their home country of Belgium. Both the witbier and the hefeweizen, which is of course Bavarian, are noteworthy for their use of wheat as a base malt, being as much as 50-60% of the grist. Both utilize Noble hops principally, and are indeed rather similar: there are only two noteworthy differentiations to my mind.

First, you may naturally recall that there are several cultivars of wheat commonly found in commercial agriculture, most noteworthy would be the red and the white varieties. As witbier may be translated to English as literally 'white beer', it would be improper to use anything besides white wheat. Whereas hefeweizens, sometimes bearing an orange glow, may make use of the red variety more liberally. As an aside, witbiers may sometimes be brewed by use of unmalted wheat, which is not commonly seen in the hefeweizen.

The second major distinction is the yeast. You will surely know that the single most important factor for any beer's flavor is the strain of yeast and the strength of its fermentation. Hefeweizen is characterized by the use of German wheat-specific strains of ale-yeast, from which the production of esters during fermentation is a primary note of flavor. Commonly, these esters are described as having a banana or clove taste. Witbiers on the other hand, should be brewed with a Belgian ale-yeast, which is slightly more phenolic in its flavor, and often has a 'spice-like' note. American wheat beers then, are most notable for being brewed with a clean American ale-yeast strain.

For myself, I cannot say that I am too fond of the 'banana' flavors of many Hefeweizens, hence my decision to make this wheat-beer in the style of a wit. The end result was a light, but somewhat sweet (in an almost honey-like quality, dare I say) eminently drinkable beer. Hop character is low, but if you are attentive you may catch the tang of Noble hops around the edges. At 4% on the button, it is not a strong beer but a drinkable one, fine for the harvest season.

Its name is a pun in reference to the difficulty I have had in the past with making wheat beers that I am truly pleased with. Hopefully, should you be interested in giving this one a try, you will appreciate my overthinking the matter.

Posted October 20th, ‘23

  • 4%

  • 10

  • Barley & Wheat

  • Hallertauer

  • Belgian

CHIT-CHAT #12 - Jolly Abt, Dark Ale

~~~

The second promised Chit-Chat this week, and a beer I have been greatly looking forward to releasing as well! This is a recipe I've tinkered with for a while, and in fact goes back to my homebrewing days, being one of the earliest that I made and greatly enjoyed. Though it was inspired by the 'Dubbels' of Trappist fame, I decided not to name it precisely after them, as it did not to me feel correct that I should claim to be brewing a beer so closely connected with monasticism. Instead, I used the same naming convention that, of all places, Trader Joes used with a specially-brewed beer they sold some years prior and simply gave the moniker of 'Dark Ale'. For that is, what it is! There are rules and observances which must be made for a beer to truly be considered a Trappist beer, most critically that it must have been brewed within the walls of such an abbey. As I have not fulfilled such requirements, it only made sense to be pointed on this matter.

Dubbels, which could be anglicized to simple 'Double', is one of the four vaunted Trappist Ales. Just who are the Trappists? If you are not already familiar; the Order of Cistercians of the Strict Observance is a Roman Catholic order of cloistered monastics, both monks and nuns, which follows the Rule of Saint Benedict. From what I know of their history, they were formed in the 17th century in France in response to the relative relaxation of monastic tradition at the time. 'Strict Observance' relates to how closely this order follows The Rule. Today, they are perhaps best known for the aforementioned beers they product, which are only some of the excellent products their abbeys produce and sell to support themselves.

Among the Trappist beers, the Dubbel is known for being of darker hue, being sweet yet dry, and having fruit-like flavors and aromas. They archetypically use Belgian or Abbey yeast strains, which emphasize these characteristics. The Jolly Abt (which may be said as 'Jolly Abbot' or 'Jolly About', though I tend to use the former) drinks in such a manner, being effervescent and not cloying or heavy.

Posted August 18th, ‘23

  • 7%

  • 20

  • Barley & Candi Sugar

  • Styrian Goldings & Saaz

  • Belgian

CHIT-CHAT #11 - Square Deal, Foreign Export IPA

~~~

The first of the promised announcements, and boy has this release been one that has had much hubbub before it. While I do think that the rampant popularity of the IPA has started to see a bit of decline, they are still the most popular style of beer in the 'craft' market today. As such, I have received many requests from interested persons about whether or not I offer such a drink. To date, I had not yet figured on what sort of an IPA I desired to make, only that eventually I would need to have at least one or two available now and again.

By now you should know how partial I am to somewhat older varieties of beer, and to beer history likewise. As many are aware of the story of the IPA, here is an abbreviated review: as I wrote on the topic of 'brown' versus 'pale' beer in the 'Bull-Cook' Chit-Chat, the advances in malting technology during the 18th century allowed for much lighter-hued, and flavored, beer to be produced. Due to the rise in popularity of 'bitters' (pale beer with a prominent hop profile), hoppier beers were in demand wherever Englishmen were found, including among the ranks of the East India Trading Company and the Admiralty. To close that book, due in part to Napoleonic blockades of Europe and the growing Empire, the market for beer shifted to the colonies, to the Caribbean, and ultimately to India itself. As the product had to survive a long journey with nothing more than the refrigeration of a ship's lower decks, needs must it be brewed to last. Thus the IPA was stronger in alcohol and stronger in quantity of hops, both of which qualities help prevent spoilage.

For the 'Square Deal', whose name suggests the sort of deal-making inherent to cross-continental mercantilism, I was thinking of these earliest types of IPAs, which might have drank somewhat differently to the suite of options we have today. In the end, the beer came out not too unlike a malty Double-IPA from the first American 'craft beer boom'. I taste a bit of resinous, piney notes at the start and with the full-body of the malt a touch of sweet fruit reminiscent of mango. Overall I would say I am pleased with the product, especially as I am not myself a major drinker of IPAs, generally speaking. If you can appreciate an IPA that, despite its style, has a light touch on the side of bitterness and is certainly full-bodied, you likewise may enjoy the 'Square Deal'.

The label for the bottle utilizes another public domain image from an 1847 police gazette advertising an upcoming boxing match.

Posted August 15th, ‘23

  • 7%

  • 60

  • Barley

  • Northern Brewer, Centennial & Moutere

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #10 - What’s All This About ‘Cask’ Ale?

~~~

Two chit-chats in as many days? Well how about that. It isn't a common sight, but is welcome I hope. Since it's a rainy Saturday evening here at the farm-stand, I figured it was high time I penned a little something about this so-and-so method of serving beer that I've likely talked your ear off about at one time or another. Or perhaps, when you may have wandered by the shop recently, you saw the fancy looking tap pictured below - or even saw the large metal cannister I display at The Prodigal's stall of the Concord Farmers' Market, NH.

In whichever event, you might be curious to know a something of it, and I have a mind to divulge on the topic since the chores are done and there's still two hours to close. The cask itself is the vessel in which beer, traditionally an ale, is stored within and served from, in the same manner as a keg. What differentiates this system is the means by which the beer is expelled from the vessel. In your modern keg arrangement, as you are no doubt aware, CO2 is utilized to push the beer down the draught line and out from the faucet by force. As CAMRA (that is, the Campaign for Real Ale - which is another title of this old-fashioned means of serving) dictates true cask ale should be dispensed without the use of 'extraneous carbon dioxide'. To wit, the function of drawing the beer forth is accomplished by a pump, oft called a 'beer engine' which is that very same fancy tap handle I mentioned earlier. The other most critical notion of cask ale is that, the same as a bottle-conditioned beer, the yeast within the cask will supply by means of fermentation all the necessary carbonation for service.

These factors make cask ale a delicate proposition. The cask must be oriented correctly upon its 'stillage' and allowed to settle after being tapped (an affair which involves a mallet and a stout arm), such that the 'ullage' of yeast, hop particulates, etc. will not be drawn into the pump nor sully the pint. Once tapped the beer will be exposed to oxygen, even when mitigating factors are taken into account, such as the check valve (red hose) you can see I employed on the cask I have open presently. This gives the beer something of a timetable, as excess oxygenation will deteriorate the flavor. That said, some oxygen may be likened to an improvement in temperament - personally I think this batch of Haymaker I'm offering at the moment has greatly benefited from the last few days exposure. That is, however, merely subjective.

To the sometimes-leveled critique that cask ale is 'warm and flat', this simply isn't true when the cask is properly attended to. The mouthfeel of any beer served in this manner will be different, that is undeniable: aromas are accentuated, carbonation is reduced, and so on. Yet when proper care is taken, and the cellarman faithful to his art, this practically ancient means of serving beer shines.

I hope you will consider, if you ever happen by the farm-stand, to give this option the chance it so richly deserves. I intend to continue offering cask ale, if for no other reason than my own personal enjoyment, unto the ages of ages.

Posted 29th, ‘23

CHIT-CHAT #9 - Bull-Cook, Brown Ale

~~~

Long time, no new beers. Well, now is as fine a time as any to change that. The humble Brown Ale has always been a style of beer particularly favored by my family, so I knew it would be appropriate to make such an offering eventually. I did some experimenting in the past with a honey-variety, but I felt that it was too sweet and, lacking for a better term, soft. I envision the Brown Ale to be the drink of frontiersmen! The Prodigal's would have to measure up, at least in spirit. But what spirit indeed?

The history of Brown Ale may rather be likened to the history of beer itself. Sometime after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, European brewers began to produce an alcoholic beverage of malted barley and hops which we might actually recognize as beer today. Prior 'beers' may have been more akin to kvass or a raw fermented cider, and certainly suffered the presence of Lactobacillus and other microorganisms to an unpalatable (by modern standards) degree. What eventually came to the fore however was certainly a brown or dark amber type of beer. The 'brown beer' of Munich for example had a long history in those vaunted beerhalls before the advent of paler lagers. The idea that beer could even be 'pale' would have seemed an impossibility to earlier brewers, and it was: the technique of the oast-houses of yore was simply insufficient to produce the malt necessary for golden-hued beer. All beer was dark, sometimes murky, and robust for the poorly-converted malts did not have the enzymatic strength to fully convert the starch within the barley's germ when mashed.

Yet that beer did eventually fall by the wayside as technology, and time, had its way. The nineteenth century saw the precipitous rise of paler beers across the world, from Bavaria all the way to London. It would in England where the brown, but not black, ale would continue its legacy as we know it today. Likely an offshoot of Porter, meant to be lighter and more straightforwardly approachable, breweries such as Manns and Whitbread made Brown Ale an institution in the early twentieth century. As English and American brewers have been long joined at the hip, what occurs in one nation is certain to be found in the other. While English Brown Ales are more subtle, their American cousins tend towards a greater presence of hop-flavors and aromas.

Now to the Bull-Cook, this beer. Though the history of Brown Ale does not quite predispose itself to my envisioning of a frontiersman's drink of choice, I wished to stick with that concept. To wit, a healthful portion of the grist here is made up with steel-cut oats and the edges rounded out with molasses. The result is a hearty drink that could, as the saying goes, put hairs on your chest. Good with flapjacks, good with venison. I hope you will consider giving it a try.

As a final thought, if you are curious about the name, then I implore you to investigate the author George Leonard Herter and his inviting library of work.

Posted July 28th, ‘23

  • 6%

  • 30

  • Barley, Oats & Molasses

  • Centennial

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #8 - Sixpence Rye, American Farmhouse Ale

~~~

In the spirit of summer coming into full swing this weekend, I am pleased to announce that new recipe from back in May is at long last bottled and ready. Another Farmhouse Ale, this time prominently featuring malted rye, this brew would be an exceptional choice for the poolside. It has a light, effervescent body with a touch of sweetness that finishes dry, but not parchingly so. German Noble Hops, in this case primarily Spalter, compliment the presence of the rye, which in beer is typically said to have an herbal 'spiced' sort of flavor. You may catch a slight hint of orange in the aroma and taste, which I attribute to the Voss Kviek used. The other Kviek recipes I have showcased have more bold flavor-profiles and thus overshadow the subtle contribution of this type of yeast.

Rye has a long history of use in beer production, both in malted and unmalted forms. The English brewing tradition would typically produce a more malt-forward depiction, while the uncommon today Germanic Roggenbier would be darker, exhibiting many flavors associated with weizen yeast. My intention was to produce something more similar to a Saison, being typically lighter in body, more dry in mouthfeel, and having more floral aromas.

Posted June 23rd, ‘23

  • 5.3%

  • 33

  • Barley & Malted Rye

  • Spalter

  • Kveik

CHIT-CHAT #7 - And Not To Yield, Foreign Export Stout

~~~

Patience is a virtue indeed, and is embodied in both Cardinal virtues of Prudence and Temperance - to act appropriately and to act with restraint, respectively. Forgive my burying the lede, but I know there are quite a few individuals who have been awaiting this release with baited breath, so I intend to give this beer its due indulgence.

And Not To Yield, the named derived from 'Ulysses' by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, is an imperial-strength English stout that has been fashioned in the 'export' manner. Which is to say, being of robust enough character to survive a lengthy oversea voyage (or a quiet term in your cellar). Like the Baltic Porter, the Foreign Export Stout was devised for trade across the globe: from Jamaica to Belgium to most famously, Russia. Legend says that the Empress Catherine the Great, as part of her treaty 1766 between Russia and Britain, demanded great quantities of strong stout be supplied her court. Thus the name of the Russian Imperial Stout.

However Catherine II was not apparently the first among Russian royalty to become enticed by the enchanting darkness of the English stout. Rather, Tsar Peter the Great is acclaimed as having been the first such Slavic nobleman to become enamored, when he visited the isle during his youthful travels. Thus it seemed appropriate to emblazon his visage in full regalia upon the label.

History aside, I decided to stick with the classic name of 'Export Stout' for this beer, as it is on the comparative lower end of the ABV spectrum for these hefty styles. When 12%+ is the mean 10% might seem low. Yet I believe this is to the beer's benefit, as the intensity of straight-alcohol flavor is reduced as compared to some other examples. And Not To Yield has a full, rich body as well as a distinctly dark-sugar flavor, not unlike blackstrap molasses and bitterly dark chocolate. Naturally, this beer pairs well with dessert.

Posted May 12th, ‘23

  • 10%

  • 60

  • Barley & Candi Sugar

  • Northern Brewer & Fuggles

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #6 - And Now For Something Completely Different

~~~

Earlier this week I at long last put up my Norman Rockwell print and that inspired me to write something about the artwork I have been using for my bottles. Norman Rockwell is by a wide margin my favorite 21st-century artist, and this print depicts one of only three instances that I am aware where beer found its way into his art. I'd like to imagine the gentleman here is enjoying a glass of Smiley's Best alongside his sandwich! This sketch is from an unused advert circa approximately the late-1940s. He also made an advertisement for the Saint Paul's Schmidt Brewery in about 1930, for their City Club beer. Schmidt's is still around today! The final piece, if you'd like to find it, is called 'Man with Fishing Rod and Bottle of Ale' - made for Ballantine Ale, ~1950.

The reason I wanted to mention all this has to do with the idea of aesthetics, which can be an underappreciated component of marketing. The labels that I have made for my own products utilize a combination of public domain art and, you may be surprised to know, AI-generated images! With some trial and error it is possible to make useable pictures, but I'll let you guess which are which. The only one I will give away here is the Prodigious, as that is an old now public domain sketch by Winslow Homer, who is perhaps by favorite 20th-century artist.

Anyway to wrap this diatribe up, my goal has been to fashion something of a coherent identity for The Prodigal by means of the label artwork, despite how the varied imagery. Thus far it appears to have been successful, given the positive feedback I have gotten!

I hope you found this interesting to read, and if so perhaps in the future I will write more tidbits such as this.

Posted May 4th, ‘23

CHIT-CHAT #5 - Haymaker, American Farmhouse Ale

~~~

Don't let the name lead you astray: this Amber Farmhouse is gentle as a lamb. Something of an experiment - as all Farmhouse beers are to a certain degree, being made with what's on hand - the Haymaker is an especially drinkable springtime selection, with a straightforward flavor profile. I would recommend its accompaniment to a nice afternoon picnic!

Like the Prodigious, this beer also uses the Norwegian Kviek as its yeast; the same Sigmund/Voss strain. In this case the resulting product is a malt-forward, slightly sweet ale with just a touch of roasted-type notes at the edges. You might be forgiven for likening it to a lower-ABV Bière de Garde, though only tangentially. The hops are quite subdued, so despite the 26 IBUs it does not drink particularly bitter.

Posted April 27th, ‘23

  • 6%

  • 26

  • Barley

  • Styrian Goldings & Spalter

  • Kveik

CHIT-CHAT #4 - Pubtalker, Mild Porter

~~~

I recognize that smile!

The question of porter versus stout can be a touchy one even today, but I ascribe to the mindset that porter was the originator of the pair; favored by the dockworkers of London in particular through the advent of the 19th century. The porters of then was often composed of entirely 'brown malt', which was stewed over beech timbers and had a distinctly smoky, sometimes leathery even contour. Brown malt can still be sourced today, but only as a more refined ingredient that does not have the, shall we say, inconsistencies of the old maltsters. Different intensities of the flavor, often as result of varied aging lengths, would be given different titles: the 'mild' variety (also called 'plain' at times) was the day-drinker of its advocates; the old stand-by!

I wanted the Pubtalker to be somewhat historic in its character, but not unapproachable to your modern drinker. As such, I did use a healthy portion of 21st-century brown malt in its composition, as well as a small weight of peat malt, which gives just a touch of that earthy, smoky note at the back end.

Posted April 14th, ‘23

  • 5%

  • 12

  • Barley

  • Northern Brewer & Fuggles

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #3 - Damn The Torpedoes, American Steam Beer

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The 'Steam Beer', also called nowadays the 'California Common' (though I prefer the historic name, unsurprisingly) has a pretty interesting story to it. You most likely have experienced this not-so-common variety on the East Coast in the form of Anchor Steam.

Jack London referenced Steam Beer in his 1913 autobiography John Barleycorn, but the term predates that publication by some many decades into the 1850s/1860s when San Francisco exploded as a boom town during the California Gold Rush. The workers demanded their beer and the hot, arid climate was unsuitable to the standard practices of lagering employed elsewhere in the country. Thankfully, the German yeast strains mutated into a unique, truly American, subspecies which we know of today as the CA Lager strain. This yeast can bear and indeed excels under higher temperatures than most Lager strains; not unlike an inverse of the Kölsch (which is an Ale yeast fermented at Lager temperatures).

Anyway, my own recipe 'Damn The Torpedoes' is a fairly classic approach to the style, albeit hopped at a slightly higher intensity than is typical. Malt-forward but not sweet, you will first enjoy the richness of the body, but that fades quickly to the citrus-bitterness of the plethora of Cascade hops I use as late-boil additions (without being too fruity).

Posted April 13th, ‘23

  • 5%

  • 50

  • Barley

  • Northern Brewer & Cascade

  • CA Lager

CHIT-CHAT #2 - Mister Smiley’s Finest Pale, English Pale

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'Smiley's Finest' (as I call it) has a bit of a story to it. Technically this brew should be considered a Best Bitters, which is the middling-strength variety of the English style of ale that is the historical antecedent of the IPA. However, brewer's precedent of old says that a Bitters is served via draught and when bottled should be referred to as a Pale Ale. As something of an old-soul, I am holding to that tradition. Thus when procuring 'Mister Smiley's Best Bitters' (Smiley's Best) in a bottle, we use the name 'Smiley's Finest'.

The beer itself is made with three different UK hops to give it a fragrant, yet subdued bitterness. A major component of the flavor is healthy portion of blackstrap molasses, which is included in the late stage of the boil. As molasses is roughly 50% fermentable, much of the character shows through in the final product. The ABV measures only just over 4%, which keeps it modest and drinkable.

Posted April 3rd, ‘23

  • 4.2%

  • 40

  • Barley & Molasses

  • Northern Brewer, Kent Golding, & Fuggles

  • English

CHIT-CHAT #1 - Prodigious, American Farmhouse Ale

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The Prodigious is a deeply hazy, yet drinkable beer. The haze comes from the raw spelt which accounts for about a quarter of the grain bill. The grist also includes steel-cut oats and malted rye for a complex palate which tastes slightly peppery, and has a subtle 'bready' note not unlike the smell of dough before it is baked. The hop intensity is medium-low and the ABV ranks at a moderate 6%.

Prodigious was inspired by the Kornøl from Hornindal, a pale and hazy type of Norwegian Farmhouse Ale that I first read about on Larsblog on beer. Though I've never yet been fortunate to try this mysterious beer, I had the style in mind while designing Prodigious. The Prodigious is fermented with an isolate of the 'Voss' or Hornindal strain of Kviek, which is readily available nowadays, but at a lower temperature to keep the flavor profile more clean.

Posted March 28th, ‘23

  • 6%

  • 35

  • Barley, Oats, Rye, Spelt

  • Northern Brewer & Spalter

  • Kveik