I got no pictures of the brewing process, but here’s what I do got: an Ommegang Hennepin Belgian Saison to drink and Hollywood Town Hall on the stereo (Mostly, Jayhawks w/ Mark Olson>Jayhawks w/o Mark Olson. Mostly).

So anyway, here was the software for the 80 Shilling:

6.3 lbs Northern Brewer Gold liquid ext.

1 lb Simpsons Crystal grains

1 oz. Fuggles pellet hops

Safbrew S-33 dry yeast (I went cheap on this one)

For this beer, I brought 2.5 gallons of water to a boil w/ the Simpsons crystal.  When it came to a boil, I took out the spent grains (and I used them in bread, which I’ll post about soon) and added the 1 oz. of Fuggles hops and half (3.15 lbs) of the extract.

I let this boil for 45 minutes and then added the rest (3.15 lbs) of the extract for the last 15 minutes of the boil.

When the wort cooled down to about 75 F or so, I pitched the dry yeast. My digital thermometer kicked the bucket on me, so I finagled (in an honest way) a combination of guessing (somewhat uneducated) and a shitty meat thermometer (the big needle kind with a (somewhat unreliable) dial on the end) to get the temp. right before pitching the yeast.

Fin. Game over, man. Game over.

It’ll be ready to drink in about a week. So I bottled it about a week ago and have (lazily) just posted about it today. Chances are you (dear, appreciated, patient, and tolerable reader) are not going to get to try it, so I’m guessing my tardiness is not much of an issue for you. Although if you read this and personally know me, and want to try it, give me a ring-a-ling on the tele-phone.

Also, the only record I managed to listen to while making this beer was Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast. And I bet the beer tastes as awesome and devilish as the record sounds. We’ll see.

Our cherry stout, also known as our Red-nose Stout, is pretty self explanatory. It’s black as any stout, and it smells that way as well (like a stout, not black). You can smell the cherries somewhat, and you can taste them up front. Then you taste the stout. It’s a pretty heavy beer. We added extra malt to hike up the alcohol content (which came out around 8% or so), and we primed it with dry malt extract. I wouldn’t call Guinness a thick beer, although many people would, but this stout is thick. It has a strong, thick body and taste.

Even though I’m a documented non-fan of fruity beers, this beer I like. The cherry flavor takes a backseat to the strong stout taste, and that’s good in my book.

I’m currently trying to find a new home (read: blog) for The Box of Vinyl Project (only one rejection so far) because I think the idea is too much fun, and hopefully, to you guys, interesting, to quit altogether. If you know of a blog that it might fit in well with, let me know. I’ll definitely send them a proposal to pick it up. And I thought submitting to literary magazines was hard. Sheee-it.

So from now on, you can look to Typed Slowly for all of your fermentation-related interests and also to satisfy your time-killing urge at your terrible job (everybody’s job sucks–yours is no different–unless you’re Jim Koch) by reading about beer. Fun, fun, fun. Yes, yes, yes.

Having said that, I’ll probably manage to sneak in a post about a book, record, show, film, internet video, or lawn-mowing experience every once in a while–while Kirby’s not looking. Mum’s the word.

On the sunny side, I’m starting another feature to fill the canyon-like void that will be left by The Box of Vinyl Project. We’ll call it (adopt Don LaFontaine’s voice (look him up)) Drinking It All. The title sounds a bit more Dionysian than it actually is. I’ll be setting out on a mission to try every beer I can get my hands on. I realize I’ve set myself up for failure from the beginning (it’s tragically flawed); I can’t possibly drink every beer made. But I’m goddamn gonna try. It’ll be fun. I’ll drink beers you wouldn’t consider smelling. I’ll drink beers I wouldn’t normally consider smelling. Emphasis on the drinking here, not the smelling. I’ll take suggestions and I’ll make suggestions. It’ll be educational. Economical. Inspirational. Farcical. It’ll be about beer.

It’s fixing to all be about beer.

As I’ve told several friends when they ask me about homebrewing–it’s too easy and too cheap not to do it.

The easiest way to start brewing your own beer is to get a starter homebrew kit. There are tons of websites that sell these kits (starting around $100), and if you have a local homebrew store, they should be available there as well. These kits vary in price and quality and in the amount of equipment you get.  I got my kit at Homebrewers.com. This kit is a deal because it includes an all inclusive beer ingredient kit, which will typically cost anywhere from $20 to $50 (and all you have to do is follow directions and you’ve made your first beer). Since I’ve only made extract beers so far, I can only explain how it works making beer from extract. When I get to making beers using all-grain, I’ll definitely do a description of it as well.

Making the beer is about as easy as following a recipe for chili. In the interest of brevity, I’ll keep this description pretty general, otherwise this post will be longer than you want to read–assuming you are still reading now.

If you’re still here, good deal.

Basically, a homebrewer will steep some specialty grains, which contribute several things to the beer (i.e. taste, head retention, color) around 150 Fahrenheit for 30 min to 1 hour in as much water as will safely fit into the pot, then add malt extract (liquid or dry), bittering hops, and boil for an hour. Most people add hops at various times during the boil to get different tastes/aromas. After the boil is done, the wort (what’s in the pot) is cooled to a temperature safe to pitch the yeast at. Usually, I’ll chill the pot in an ice bath and get the temp down to about 110 F, then top it off with enough cold water to make 5 gallons and it’ll drop the temp, usually, to around 80 F or so. This lower temperature is necessary so that the yeast will proof, and not die, when added to the wort. After the yeast is added to the wort, the fermentor is lidded and the airlock is fitted into the lid.

Then it’s time to wait. We all know what they say about the waiting.

After a few days, give or take, the fermentation will be complete (the airlock will stop bubbling). Then the fermented, but uncarbonated, beer is transferred to bottles or a keg system, where it can be carbonated in various ways, and aged anywhere from 2 weeks to several months or even years. I can’t ever wait that long.

I know that was a pretty fast run-through on how to brew at home, but I think that makes the process somewhat clear or at least demystifies it a little. There are myriad other variables that can change the process, such as using grain instead of extract, dry-hopping, throwing in additives (honey, gypsum, salts), wort-chilling, or transferring to secondary fermentors, but we’ll save them for another day.

There are enough books on homebrewing to fill a small library, and these books can be very helpful to not helpful at all. I highly recommend Charlie Papzian’s The Joy of Hombrewing and Homebrewing for Dummies for beginning homebrewers. They both cover the basics and come with lots of good recipes for brewers of all levels.

I’ll do some posts in the future where I tackle some of the separate steps involved in brewing, what their purposes are, and different ways to complete them.

Last, but absolutely not least, to really get the most out homebrewing beer, it is essential to have some beers on hand, preferably homemade, to ease through the process without worry. That and a good stereo system and music. Iron Maiden records work pretty well. As does anything by the Replacements or Paul Westerberg (for obvious reasons).

Now, go get your ass a homebrew kit and make some beer.