OBC Fall Classic

The earliest I have roused myself from bed this month was 7am, in order to make it to judging registration at the Oregon Brew Crews recent Fall Classic Homebrew Competition. We tucked into the first flights of the day at about 9, in the chilly barroom of Roots Brewing Company.
I judged Light Hybrids, including California Common Beer (think Anchor Steam) and dusseldorf altbier. Unfortunately, there are about a dozen different weird off flavors that can affect a finished beer, and a few of these were prominently featured in most of the beers I tasted. There are so many variables to brewing, that examples that nailed down malt character left hops out in the cold, or a beer that looked awesome and got full marks for appearance--a thick creamy foam, correct color and clarity--would taste weird or weak.
We broke for lunch and I considered the fate of Kazoo's best of the year, Hot-Head Saison, as it awaited judgment. The high-ranking judges at the Belgians table would certainly pick out the subtle off flavors, and, to make matters worse, they had received the very last bottle existing...
(As we neared the end of the Saison bottling process, it became clear that I had miscalculated the number of bottles we would fill, so everyone in the room naturally pitched it by opening a beer, decanting it into a glass and sanitizing the bottle)... and the last bottle I would have picked for judgement.
The rest of the day rolled along smoothly (if a bit chilly), officially tasting American Ambers and participating in a taste-off for that category, then meeting some other brewers and unofficially tasting some ciders and meads.
I picked up some advice on dialling in keg carbing, bulk grain deals and the merits of secondaries and the members of the Oregon Brew Crew were very encouraging, welcoming and supportive.

My New Friends: Adam, Ruth & Fred

Unique is a much abused and overused adjective, co-opted in the 90s by savvy marketers and born-again hippies, but it was the the first word that came to mind as I tasted Doggie Claws, a barley wine created by Hair of the Dog Brewing.

My first thought as I entered the dog house, however, was this must be the wrong door, because there was a forklift blocking the way, a giant white vessel standing in the middle of the room and cases upon cases of brown boxes. We stepped tentatively around the boxes, uncertain whether we were welcome in this esoteric beer temple. Hair of the Dog is serious stumptown underground--the hybrid of two essential Portland loves: a DIY anti-corporate attitude and craft brewing--and complete with an impossible to find clubhouse and odd beer names like Ruth, Fred & Adam we had to wonder, Are we worthy?

Perhaps. Busy like the Wizard of Oz, Founder Alan Sprints walked out from someplace among the boxes and without ado poured three tastes of Ruth, then walked off to check on some kegs, leaving us to contemplate our clear, golden glasses. After tasting Fred and Fred from the Wood (both somewhere around 11%), we began to feel much more comfortable in the noisy warehouse, and Alan offered to show us around the operation.

Hair of the Dog makes old, odd, forgotten recipes from authentic ingredients. Adam, the original Hair of the Dog, is made only with the ingredients and procedures available to the 19th century brewer, and produced according to a long lost prescription (for more on Adam, a fascinating beer, I recommend this article by Fred Eckhardt). Doggie Claws makes an incredibly smooth transition from winter beer to blush to port and back again with every sip. I could almost feel the warehouse tilt and disappear, to be replaced with a hearth wholly of my imagination, roaring fire, Christmas lights ablaze, big old dog warming my feet, then back to the cement floor with the malty beer finish. We also tasted Fred Flanders, a very interesting version of Fred aged in wood with Brettanomyces wild beasties whose flavor I could not begin to describe here.

Hair of the Dog's operation is compact, milling grains to mash tun to water-jacketed fermentation vats all within about 10 square yards, but the beer, produced in miniscule batches and bottle conditioned, is truly unique.

Making up for Time Lost

Kazoo Brew now has room to spread out! A rack in the kitchen devoted to beer equipment, a closet nook for busy fermenters oh my! To celebrate the advent of some cooler weather as well as the kickoff of the Steelers' season, a Tangerine Porter is gurgling away in the carboy. This was Kazoo's first foray into a big mash, weighing in at about 12# of grain. Still working out the best way to construct a mash tun from a water cooler, we just used a grain bag in a cooler to keep the temperature at about 156 F for 35 minutes. The result was a very concentrated, small batch of squid ink, smelling of hops and tangerine as well as other, darker notes. This will be perfect in November, so we quickly brewed a lighter, easier batch of Abbey-style Singel. Bypassed the mashing process by using a mini-mash + extract recipe and pumped this beer out in about 4 hours from grain infusion to yeast lob. Kettle Defoamer played a role in this brew to keep the yield high while fermenting in a smaller vessel. Should be ready in 4 weeks, +2 to bottle condition.

BikeToBeerFest @ HUB, Portland

I don't know the brewer's significance of the 19th of September, but several Portland breweries (of which there are many, many) hosted variations on the theme BeerFest yesterday. I live across the street from Laurelwood Public House, whose sign urged me to "save the date" for their beer party. But having looked in on the restaurant earlier in the week, I decided it was too nice a day to hang around the dimly lit corners of a pub, and instead opted to bike to SE and check out Hopworks Urban Brewing's Biketobeerfest, a convoluted play on the popular Oktoberfest.
I am thoroughly impressed by the PDX bike culture, and bicis of all kinds roosted in the racks outside of HUB's party...the hipster standard, single speed road bikes, locked alongside enormous hybrid commuter behemoths, the faux beach cruisers popular everywhere but Orange County, and the occasional recumbent, lurking among the kid-toting trailers. Everywhere were the workhorses of this uber bike friendly town.
Which is why I found it odd that inside the gates were more of the same, ostensibly, on display. The phrase "handcrafted bicycle" has several interpretations. In my mind, it means some welder with a vision and a pile of bike frames and parts: double talls, odd tandems, pivoting frames, bikes with steamroller wheels made from old kegs, backwards bikes with a tiller to steer, in short, a celebration of everything a bicycle can be, with emphasis on fun. In this case, it was taken to mean really fly, pricey bikes in custom colors for you to drool over and wish you could own. Aside from some synchronized bike dancing and a few smallies on bmx, the only interactive bike themed event was a K-mart brand bicycle hammer-throw. More accurately, watching some guy throw a cheap bike around. Hooray!
I guess a brewery can appreciate bikes without really understanding "bike culture" if the beer they put out is as good as HUB's. Two fresh hop beers were created just for this festival, and 14 others were on taps arranged around the grounds. I tried the "Fest of Fury," a very full-malt tasting deep amber beer with a delightful hop aroma and finish. I've reached the point in the year when extra supa hoppy ales taste skunky to me and I make the slow transition to porters and stout and the like. This is a brilliant transition ale, full of nuanced malt flavor, hoppy but not astringent, dark enough to warm me up when the sun was out to lunch.
"Bike Beer" was lighter, hoppier and delicious. Like I said, the days of Pliny the Elder with a slice of white peach are over. This beer was thirst quenching and quaffable.
The 7 Grain "Survival" Porter hearkened back to the origin of beer as safe drinking water, a loaf of bread and a warm blanket all in one inky black glass. HUB threw in some freshly roasted local coffee to round out the cacao notes in this new moon colored brew. This one was my favorite of the day, it felt like the right beer for the season.

Saison: First Taste

A sneak preview of saison was uncapped at the Farewell to Burners cookout in Oakland yesterday evening. Just as the sun tucked itself behind the vacant building and the air cooled off from boiled prawn-pink to a more comfortable pollution-purple, ten tasters reflected on the fresh summer ale.
(I have been listening to more NPR lately, and if this were a radio doc, here is where there would be audio tidbits of people clinking glasses and saying things like, "mmm I love hoppy beers!" and "the citrusy aroma disappears in the middle of the sip" and "this tastes like summer!") Alors.
The extra-carbonated deep gold colored brew produced a glorious head after decanting. The aroma was lightly spiced and citrusy, flavors that blossomed on the front of the tongue and gave way to a full but light as meringue malt middle, which then gave way to a very hoppy and just toeing the bitter line finish. Suffice to say it took superhuman powers of restraint not to plow through another round of bottles.

Capping up Kazoo Oakland

The British Summer Ale, "Mister Squinty" went down smooth at a solstice party in June, kegged in the backyard and quaffed magnanimously with fruits and cheeses.

Bottled the as-yet-unnamed Saison last weekend, came out the color of the Harvest Moon and the little uncarbonated sample sip tasted like the chalice of ambrosia standing in Venus' silk pillow-strewn Canary Island vacation rental.

Kazoo Brews are moving to Portland, OR...
just as soon as the Saison is sufficiently bottle conditioned to serve on the midmove picnic

It's Not A Stil, But It Sure Is A Double-Wide...

Got a kit brew of Blonde Ale going in the closet of the double-wide trailer. Max and I were worried that the Livermore summer would overwhelm our fermentation bodies and the beer would go rancid in the sweltering heat, so we stuck the carboy in a closet next to an air conditioner vent just prior to a cold snap. Result: fermentation came on hot and heavy for about 2 days, then all activity stopped. Now we shake/stir it up vigorously every other day or so and it's been blup blup blupping along nicely in the spare room.