After relocating to Houston and taking a new job, one of my co-workers introduced me to brewing. We never brewed a beer together, but he acted as my mentor as sorts. I brewed extract beers, going for quantity, at one time having as many as 19 different styles on hand.
The beer wasn't bad, it just was not on par with what is possible with all grain brews.
In the meantime I rediscovered my beer roots. Pulling out an old collection of beer labels from my days in Munich, where I had studiously soaked off and saved labels from all the beers i drank, I discovered exactly what styles of beer I had so loved.
I unearthed my Rosetta Stone of Beer. No longer were those 1 liter beer zugs filled with just beer, they were filled with Maerzen, Maibock, Starkbier, Weissen mit Hefe, Christal Weissen, Bock, the list seemed endless.
I suddenly understood, what I liked about the beers I drank. It was like I had a hood pulled from my head, a roadmap had suddenly been thrust in to my hands.
I no longer brewed beers just for beers sake, but brewed more in lines with my tastes, which were eclectic to say the least.
I muddled along brewing through a divorce, and met and married a fledgling pub owner. For the next 5 years I brewed infrequently since I had access to over 126 different beers at the pub and my time was taken up helping out there, cooking and cleaning, taking inventory all so my future ex bi-polar wife would have a comfortable income for her and her two adult daughters.
Oh well. I take satisfaction that it and the other place she purchased, have gone down hill since, in the beer menu sense. From having a representitive beer from all the major styles on tap, the pubs now have the typical American carbonated water that passes for Light Lager, as well as a few obligatory international brews. I would venture to say that the pub has no more than 30 beers on hand. This was primarily due to the fact that the daughters did not like to do monthy inventory and had been made managers. One of the girl's stellar performances in the management realm cost her mother and me a cash cow catering business. Due to inattention, laziness and the surety and stupidity of youth, the owners of the stadium awarded the concession to others when it was clear that the girl could not make intelligent decisions and her stupidity which was hurting the stadium.
So after the divorce, I went back to homebrewing.
I decided to take the plunge into all grain back about 10 years ago. I have not looked back since. I went into kegging and doing two batch brew days.
I started a brew club at work about 5 years ago and currently brew beer for an annual company sponsored picnic with the Houston Geological Society. We usually do 20 gallons split between four styles.
I am due to brew again for this event which is this April. A Belgian tripel, a Maibock, Pale Ale and Hefe Weissen will be on tap.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
For the Record...
First, I want to lay a bit of background.
I have been brewing for now on to 20 years and have gone through the normal evolution of the homebrewer to where I am today.
As a military brat, I recall seeing my dad drink a variety of American beer. Never an ale, but plenty of Falstaff, Carling Black Label, and Schlitz. Probably whatever was cheapest at the base commisary. I recall getting to retrieve one of those small cold cylinders from the refrigerator on command, and on occassion getting to sit in his lap and take a sip or two while we shared a jar of pickled pigs feet. Those kind of memories stick with you as strongly as the impression the hoppy lagers did on my young taste buds. I have loved beer ever since, and I have to tell you that I felt I deserved a sip of beer for playing the faithful beer retriever anytime I was so commanded. So with church key in hand I would open the can, take a sip and then deliver it to my dad's hairy paw. At which time he would reward me with another sip, never the wiser that I was double dipping.
I went to school in Munich, Germany about the time I reached the legal drinking age in the US. But over there that didn't meant too much as there wasn't an age limit. I have to say, from the start I liked German beer much better than American beer. I remember drinking my first Budweiser at my Uncle's house, and nearly threw up. Probably the carbonation, but that kind of put me off of Budweiser for a while.
In Munich, I learned about Weiss beer, Maerzens, Oktoberfest, Bock, Doppel Bock, Pilsner, Eisenbock, Dunkel, beer brewed by Monks, and beer festivals. Octoberfest, Starkbierfest and Maibock festival became staples of my college existence. We took regular trips to the Hofbrau Haus near Marienplatz, as well as other bierkellers around town on a regular basis.
But still my real knowledge of beer was still in its infancy.
If I had know just a bit of what I know now, I could have saved myself years wandering in the Bier Wilderness searching for the answers to which I did not yet know the questions.
I returned to the US in 1975 and enrolled at Old Dominion University to study Geology. The passage of students of Geology has traditionally been lubricated by liberal application of beer.
I remember paying $.25 a mug for beer and $.10 a slice for pizza at a local watering hole off the boardwalk in Virginia Beach. It was milk and honey and manna from heaven for a cash strapped college student. I remember paying $2.19 a six pack for Ballentine's ale at the local A&P grociery store. I would ration myself to one can per night for the week then by another sixer for the next week. I lived on pizza, fritos and Whoppers. I got a ream of two for one coupons from the School Development office in which I did work study. We ran telefon fundraisers and I fed myself for the year on the leftover coupons we gave to fraternity and sorority members who manned the phones. Not to mention the Blimpy half subs that were left overs.
I digress. Remember this was the 70's. This was the Dark Ages of Beerdom. The only imported German beer of which I was aware was St. Pauli Girl and Lowenbrau. In Munich, Lowenbrau was the Schmidts of beer. It was available in a coke vending machine in our classroom buildings, and I can remember drinking a couple in class during especially boring lectures. No rules broken there. Drinking and smoking in class were permitted in those days.
On my return to the States, I only wanted to find a beer that approximated what I was used drinking in Germany. Alas, it appeared I was on a quest as futile and fruitless as the one launched by some guys wearing long underwear made of steel who sat at a cornerless table.
My tastebuds finally found a brew called Stroh's brewed by a now extinct family of German-American brewers who sold out to Pabst and Miller in 2000. I have not tasted Stroh's since the early 1990's as if was not available in Texas. During the 70's and 80's they advertised their brew as "fire brewed" to differenciate themselves from the mainstream brews brewed with steam. The boiling of the unfermetned beer, or wort in copper kettles carmelized part of the wort, giving more flavor to a Stroh's and to my taste, making it more like a European beer. Stroh's original family recipe had roots in Pilzen, Czechoslovakia., home of the root of all Pilsners, Pilzner Urquell. Stroh's was similar if lighter in body.
Stroh's got me through my years in the Beer Wasteland of Oklahoma where Miller and Budweiser abounds like ticks in a field of Bluestem. A co-worker who was a homebrewer brushed past me like a ship in the night. I tasted a brew or two of his, but was not impressed at the time, and the brewing bug refused to bite.
One Christmas, my in-laws gave me a brew in a bag kit. It was not enough to produce drinkable beer, but sparked my interest. Alas it would be another year or two before the bug bit me hard. Partly out of necessity.
I moved to Houston in 1991 and found two oasises of beer. One was called the Richmond Arms, and the other, the Hops House. In the early 1990's beer was begining to flow in across the oceans to flood the metropolitan areas of the US. This was but a harbinger of the flood of hops and malt that was about to occur.
I have been brewing for now on to 20 years and have gone through the normal evolution of the homebrewer to where I am today.
As a military brat, I recall seeing my dad drink a variety of American beer. Never an ale, but plenty of Falstaff, Carling Black Label, and Schlitz. Probably whatever was cheapest at the base commisary. I recall getting to retrieve one of those small cold cylinders from the refrigerator on command, and on occassion getting to sit in his lap and take a sip or two while we shared a jar of pickled pigs feet. Those kind of memories stick with you as strongly as the impression the hoppy lagers did on my young taste buds. I have loved beer ever since, and I have to tell you that I felt I deserved a sip of beer for playing the faithful beer retriever anytime I was so commanded. So with church key in hand I would open the can, take a sip and then deliver it to my dad's hairy paw. At which time he would reward me with another sip, never the wiser that I was double dipping.
I went to school in Munich, Germany about the time I reached the legal drinking age in the US. But over there that didn't meant too much as there wasn't an age limit. I have to say, from the start I liked German beer much better than American beer. I remember drinking my first Budweiser at my Uncle's house, and nearly threw up. Probably the carbonation, but that kind of put me off of Budweiser for a while.
In Munich, I learned about Weiss beer, Maerzens, Oktoberfest, Bock, Doppel Bock, Pilsner, Eisenbock, Dunkel, beer brewed by Monks, and beer festivals. Octoberfest, Starkbierfest and Maibock festival became staples of my college existence. We took regular trips to the Hofbrau Haus near Marienplatz, as well as other bierkellers around town on a regular basis.
But still my real knowledge of beer was still in its infancy.
If I had know just a bit of what I know now, I could have saved myself years wandering in the Bier Wilderness searching for the answers to which I did not yet know the questions.
I returned to the US in 1975 and enrolled at Old Dominion University to study Geology. The passage of students of Geology has traditionally been lubricated by liberal application of beer.
I remember paying $.25 a mug for beer and $.10 a slice for pizza at a local watering hole off the boardwalk in Virginia Beach. It was milk and honey and manna from heaven for a cash strapped college student. I remember paying $2.19 a six pack for Ballentine's ale at the local A&P grociery store. I would ration myself to one can per night for the week then by another sixer for the next week. I lived on pizza, fritos and Whoppers. I got a ream of two for one coupons from the School Development office in which I did work study. We ran telefon fundraisers and I fed myself for the year on the leftover coupons we gave to fraternity and sorority members who manned the phones. Not to mention the Blimpy half subs that were left overs.
I digress. Remember this was the 70's. This was the Dark Ages of Beerdom. The only imported German beer of which I was aware was St. Pauli Girl and Lowenbrau. In Munich, Lowenbrau was the Schmidts of beer. It was available in a coke vending machine in our classroom buildings, and I can remember drinking a couple in class during especially boring lectures. No rules broken there. Drinking and smoking in class were permitted in those days.
On my return to the States, I only wanted to find a beer that approximated what I was used drinking in Germany. Alas, it appeared I was on a quest as futile and fruitless as the one launched by some guys wearing long underwear made of steel who sat at a cornerless table.
My tastebuds finally found a brew called Stroh's brewed by a now extinct family of German-American brewers who sold out to Pabst and Miller in 2000. I have not tasted Stroh's since the early 1990's as if was not available in Texas. During the 70's and 80's they advertised their brew as "fire brewed" to differenciate themselves from the mainstream brews brewed with steam. The boiling of the unfermetned beer, or wort in copper kettles carmelized part of the wort, giving more flavor to a Stroh's and to my taste, making it more like a European beer. Stroh's original family recipe had roots in Pilzen, Czechoslovakia., home of the root of all Pilsners, Pilzner Urquell. Stroh's was similar if lighter in body.
Stroh's got me through my years in the Beer Wasteland of Oklahoma where Miller and Budweiser abounds like ticks in a field of Bluestem. A co-worker who was a homebrewer brushed past me like a ship in the night. I tasted a brew or two of his, but was not impressed at the time, and the brewing bug refused to bite.
One Christmas, my in-laws gave me a brew in a bag kit. It was not enough to produce drinkable beer, but sparked my interest. Alas it would be another year or two before the bug bit me hard. Partly out of necessity.
I moved to Houston in 1991 and found two oasises of beer. One was called the Richmond Arms, and the other, the Hops House. In the early 1990's beer was begining to flow in across the oceans to flood the metropolitan areas of the US. This was but a harbinger of the flood of hops and malt that was about to occur.
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