Sleeping With Skunks

Dear Reader,

Snag yourself a comfy quilt you don't mind getting grassy, swindle a soothing iced coffee or soy latté, find respite under the shade of an aged and august maple or apple tree, huddle around the buzzing screen of your laptop, and prepare yourself for another episode of the blog show. We've got quite a bit to discuss, so I'll probably start with some long-winded updates, then once my patience dwindles I'll probably wrap it up quick. I wish I could tell you to expect a long entry, but it'll probably be normal-length.

So, how 'bout this weather, eh? Southern New Hampshire is finally seeing some stiflingly humid, hot days. So it feels like summer, now that all my shirts are soggy.

My brewing days are over for the summer. I just bottled the second beer for my brother's wedding celebration, the IPA. After fermentation the stuff is essentially beer, just non-carbonated and a little... 'sharp', I guess. When it's put into bottles with a bit of corn sugar it will carbonate and the residual yeast will metabolize some less desirable compounds in the beer, improving the overall flavor. That said, the non-carbonated IPA tasted exceptional. It had a great biscuity backbone but the hops gave it its true character; I could pick out some great fruity blasts of papaya, mango, and pineapple. The IPA was 'dry-hopped', meaning some hops were also added after the boil, tossed directly into the fermenter. The Belgian Dubbel was put into mini kegs a week ago, and that beer tickled the tongue just as much, though with a spicy Belgian tingle and alcoholic kick. E'erbody at the wedding gettin' tipsy. Yes, J-Kwon, off of homebrew.

Racking the IPA into the bottling bucket

On the travel front, things are looking good, and I'm getting very excited and anxious. I've started drinking more caffeine, so that may account for the anxiousness. I have my one-way ticket to Paris and I bought a train ticket from Paris to Limoges. First-class was only 5 Euros more, but I decided to start off on the right foot and choose the more frugal option. I've been struggling a bit with travel logistics (and would welcome any advice). I've been considering but avoiding applying for a credit card. Apparently, I can use my debit card abroad without any charges or fees, but having a back-up credit card could be useful and CapitalOne also doesn't charge for using their card abroad, or so I read. I'm holding off both because of laziness and a slight concern about missing a payment or just being hoodwinked by the credit card company... Just bought a new GSM phone and SIM card for Europe, so I'll let everyone know what my international number is soon, though I think I'll be using Skype for calls to home. Let me know if you'd like to Skype! The next step in my planning is to investigate insurance options. If only I had future-vision I could know not to feed the pigeons in Paris, which would save me both from reconstructive plastic surgery and the need for health insurance...

On the home front, I have to say the summer has been a blast. I've adjusted to the bakery work/gardening rhythm and have spent my free time twiddling with exploits I love. The Irish flute experiment is still in its infancy, but I have a firm grasp on - count 'em - two tunes, The Galtee Ranger (or Callaghan's) and Kitty Gone A-Milkin'. I've also been supplementing the flute tooting with some pennywhistle screeching. The pennywhistle comes in handy when I want to focus on fingering and forget about trying to get a nice tone out of the flute. Additionally, I'm getting a second wind on the drums. I've discovered funk and acid jazz and I'm becoming addicted to the grooves of Medeski, Martin & Wood, John Scofield, The RH Factor, and all that jazz. I'll be bringing some sticks and a drum pad to France and will keep my eye out for any spare sets to jump in on. When I'm not squeaking around on my drum throne I've been soaking in the wonderful community vibes at Pizza Night at the bakery. Every Tuesday night Noah, the baker at Orchard Hill Bakery, hosts heaps of hungry homo sapiens and provides dough for the eager eaters to punch out into crusts and load with an array of pot-lucked toppings. He bakes these personal pizzas in the outdoor clay oven built just for these special nights. They've been wildly successful, successful enough for someone to even start a fanpage on Facebook if they so desired.

Noah shoveling pizza out of the oven

And finally, we had a skunk in our house the other night. I thought we dealt with it with absolute finesse and imagination. It all started when I was bumming around on the 'net late-night and I heard some odd scratching noises coming from the pantry room. It didn't sound like our cat, Duder, and it wasn't because Duder was softly purring on the couch in the living room in all her Sphinx-like grace and indifference. I shined a flashlight on the pantry corner and there was the big, bushy, striped tail I was expecting. "Perhaps Duder could help," I thought, so I brought Duder over to the skunk's vicinity and both reacted in the least possible way imaginable. I don't think either noticed either. I thanked Duder for all her bravery and continued on with just the help of my mom, whom I had roused just when she had fallen asleep in the hopes that she could provide a human shield between me and the skunk. I racked my brain for a way to depose the skunk without setting it off, but it was deep in the bowels of that pantry. Luckily, the pantry room is connected to the outside by a door (which is undoubtedly how it got in), so I decided to let entropy solve the problem. I barricaded the doorway that leads to the rest of the house, left the outside door open a crack, and retired upstairs to a restful night's slumber. In the morning, there was no skunk to be found, only some missing crackers. They were stale, anyway.

The Summer Without Tomatoes

Got some loose ends to tie up before I head off yet again to do more summery stuff and avoid responsibilities at home. The Grey Fox Bluegrass Festival is a-croonin' my name, so my brother Will and I will be driving the three hours to upstate New Yawhk for four days of some mandolin-chopping, banjo-busting, gospel-yowling goodness. I don't play bluegrass, and I'm not really sure how I got into it (I believe my dad went through a big bluegrass phase, influenced by his brother), but summer just feels empty without a hot few hot summer days of raw, live bluegrass. And sharing those days with crowds of tank-topped, straw-hatted, lobsterbacked sun soakers makes it known I'm not alone. Mmm... I can smell the bloomin' onions right now...

Lessee, last weekend was the 4th. I spent some quality "bro-time" then, too, when Will visited and helped me brew a Belgian Dubbel for his wedding celebration in August. He likes roastier, maltier dark beers like stouts and porters, but since I'm having a great time exploring Belgians I compromised with him and chose the darker-colored dubbel. They're typically heavier on the alcohol than most beers and have flavor profiles that include notes of raisins, figs, or other dark, dried fruits. I threw in an extra quarter-pound of chocolate wheat malt mostly for color, though I'm hoping it might add a touch of coffee to go with the fruitiness. On the eve of that national holiday we got quite a special show. At least three of our neighbors had their own private fireworks displays, which meant that we also had three private fireworks displays. One was right next door, another over Lake Warren, and another through some trees over yonder. It made me wonder... if I can see three fireworks shows with my feet planted in East Alstead, of all places, how many friggin' shows are there across the country? How much money do people spend on this stuff?? I'd blow a couple thou' on Louis Vuitton instead...

Speaking of designer products, I just opened my first Belgian golden ale and, boy, slap a Sean John label on that stuff! It's been conditioning for only a week, but I couldn't wait. It's certainly not carbonated enough (not sure if it ever will get the carbonation it needs; we skimped out on priming sugar since I thought the beer wasn't fermented enough when we bottled and I didn't want the bottles to explode), but it's the best tasting beer I've brewed. A couple more weeks in the bottle and some slight green-appley flavors should mellow out, the fizziness should improve, and I'm hoping a bit of the "hot", fusel alcohol bite will disappear. I'll be brewing the second commissioned wedding batch today. It'll be an India Pale Ale, but I think I'll call it a WePA in honor of the espousal.

Couple more things on the beer front. First, if you have even the slightest inkling to start homebrewing yourself (... er... not... I mean... don't jump into the brewpot) and are up in the New Hampshire region at all, you should check out the Kettle To Keg homebrew shop in Pembroke. Jason, the owner, is a real nice guy and has also offered to contact some brewers across the pond as possible stops during my trip. Also, last night I stopped by the public zoning and planning board meetings for East Alstead's future microbrewery. Tim Roettiger is the man with the plan, and the plan was approved with only a couple changes that need to be made to the design. He's planning on building a small shelter to house the equipment and will brew less than 500 barrels (15,500 gallons) per year and switch the operation to maple syrup production in the spring. Congratulations Tim, can't wait!

LARBing: Live-Action Role Brewing

Just finished my first brew session of the summer and the first in a different spot than the traditional 84 Hope Street in Providence (also the first solo brew, without my usual brewing partner, the incomparable Eric LoPresti). Yup, I spent an afternoon up here in balmy New Hampshire boiling a syrupy concoction that will hopefully be a tasty Belgian golden ale in about four weeks. The beer should taste like a crude, blue-collar version of Duvel, the renowned ale from Belgium that tastes like the nectar of the gods (or the Devil, since that's who it's named after). It looks a lot like god piss, too. I brewed this batch as a test-run in anticipation of my brother's wedding celebration in late August. He commissioned me to brew an IPA and a Belgian Dubbel, so I thought I'd do a little practicing. Wouldn't want a houseful of puking party-goers, now would we?

Here's how I brewed this particular beer with a bit about the general homebrewing process, not including fermentation, bottling, or conditioning (I'll get to those in time):

First, the ingredients. I used 3.3 lbs light malt extract, light candy sugar, .375 lbs pale grain malt, 1 lb dried wheat malt extract, 1 lb dried extra light malt extract, 1 lb dried light malt extract, 1 oz Czech Saaz hop pellets, 1 oz Northern Brewer hop pellets, 1 oz Styrian Golding hop pellets, and 1 packet Fermentis T-58 ale yeast. This makes no sense to most of you, I know. I'll explain.

To begin, I heated up some water and steeped the pale grain malt for about 20 minutes to make a sort of 'grain tea.' "Malt" is barley that is soaked in water and allowed to germinate slightly. At the right moment, germination is ceased by drying, or kilning, the barley on heated floors. Allowing the barley to germinate releases enzymes that help break down the barley's starches into simple sugars that feed the yeast during fermentation. Barley can be kilned lightly or heavily, giving beers more delicate or roastier flavors and lighter or darker colors.

I then added this malt tea to a bigger pot with near-boiling water. At this point I added all the malt extracts (in both syrup and powder form - they're essentially the same thing) and the ounce of Northern Brewer hop pellets, and I brought this stew to a boil. This made the kitchen smell like popcorn, according to other members of the household. Chris Duffy, if you're reading this, I guess you've been vindicated. Apparently, brewing beer can smell like popcorn, crescent rolls, or rice pilaf. I dunno. Anyway, boiling will help to further break down starches into sugars and denature proteins that should settle out of the boil or fermentation vessel. That statement may not be entirely accurate, but... just keep reading. Hops are added to impart their bitterness, which balances the malt's sweetness, flavor, which can range from piney to citrusy, and aroma. Bittering hops are added at the beginning of the boil; aroma hops are added near the end.

After half an hour of this bubbling, steaming boilfest I added the ounce of Saaz hops and boiled for another 10 minutes or so. Then it was time for the candy sugar! Candy sugar is basically rock candy, and it adds more sugars for the yeast to munch on as well as a slight residual sweetness and oomph to the texture, or "body", of the beer. It's usually reserved for Belgian beers. Back in the olden days, Belgium was the world's foremost producer of rock candy, as monks would fill monastery cathedrals with huge vats of sugar water, tie hemp twine across the top, and boil away. During WWII, Belgian troops received half a pound of rock candy as part of their rations.

Enough lies, back to the brew. After stirring in the candy sugar, I added the last ounce of hops and shut off the heat. When this liquid (called "wort", not beer yet) is cool enough, it can be poured into the fermentation bucket and yeast can be added. To get the wort cool quickly (to prevent bacterial infection), I used a copper coil that carries cold water through, but not in, the wort. My wort chiller is leaky, so I had quite the Rube Goldberg-esque contraption.

After the wort was chilled and poured into the fermentation bucket, I added the Belgian yeast and sealed the deal. I'll let those yeasties go to town for about a week, then bottle that shiznit. If any of you are around in four weeks and brave enough to drink a pint or two, stop on by! Blueberry pies accepted as donation.

Cheers,
Owen