I won’t go into a tirade about consumption and waste.  I won’t, in fact, dispute that landfills are a perceived necessity of modern life.  However, I will point out that none of us would want to live directly adjacent to one.  Be that as it may, I’m constantly rethinking how to escape the learned behavior of simply “tossing it out,” as though-it-goes-nowhere mentality.

As most of you know, Nate and I are avid brewers.  So much so, that we are starting a brewery.  A while back, I thought about my brewing grains.  I sat and wondered what happened to them when I threw them out.  I could only make a limited amount of spent grain bread.  Well, I had to put them in a bag, put them in the garbage, wait for the trash truck to pick them up, and sent them to become methane in a landfill.  There had to be another way.

Luckily (really by choice), Andrea and I frequent our local farmer’s market.  There are a myriad of reasons we buy local produce from local producers.  Mainly we like knowing the people who sell us our food and love our local economy.

At our local farmer’s market, there are a few people who sell meat…which is awesome, by the way.  Of course, many animals love spent grains, and it was a natural choice to start looking into off-loading some grains to some farmers in the area.  First, it reduces some of their feed costs.  Second, it keeps my grains out of the landfill. Third, I might score some free eggs or chops now and again (they brought me some pork sausage a couple weeks back).  Fourth, it adds a direct connection to my food supply.  Other reasons could be noted.

Why all the hubbub, bub?  Trust me, this isn’t an attempt to make you go green or assume my position on an aerie while looking down on anyone.  It is an appeal.  Please believe me when I say that someone wants your brewing grains.  Even if you are in an urban area, there is a lot of farming happening.  Find someone to take your grains; you are going to get rid of them one way or the other.

The one way is that they become methane in a landfill.  The other is that they become methane out of an animal. Don’t pass on the animal gas.

I love the thrill of seeing eyes light up when I tell someone that I made the beer at home or hearing people express that their concept of what beer can be has been expanded.  In all honesty, that is one of the particular joys I truly look forward to having when Nate and I are running the brewery.  We are beyond excited to sit and talk with people about our beers and their nuances.

We have several opportunities to share our beer with others in the near future, but I am excited about one in particular.  I am brewing for a friend’s wedding.  Not too shabby at all…and I get to experiment with some styles a bit.  Here is what I’m brewing:

Caramel Apple beer: I am using malts that are known for caramel notes, and I made some sugar from apples that I juiced.  Kinda excited about this one.

Pecan Pie: This beer is loosely a brown ale (a fairly nebulous style anyway).  But I also candied some pecans and used homemade golden syrup in it.

Pumpkin Ale: In the past I’ve not been a fan of the style, but I’m going to see what I can do with it…I’ve got some plans.

Oatmeal Stout: Classic and straightforward but bound to be good.

What can I say, I love brewing and sharing beer.  As I write this post, I realize that it is a fairly personally driven narrative about what I’m up to.  However, I hope it inspires you to go and do likewise.  It’s a great week to brew or share some beer with people.

This past Easter my dad, Bob Watson, drove from Toledo, Ohio to bring some furniture (family heirlooms)  for us to use in our daughters’ room.  Ok, that’s his excuse…we all know he just wanted to see us.  Anyway, he not only brought himself and some cool retro furniture, he also brought a case of 20+ homebrewed beers and Mead that had been created by his his supervisor.  I’ve  never met this benevolent donor of fermented beverages, James Shruga, but from what my dad says, he brews more than the average guy, having fallen in love with the magic of brewing.  I know James is about my age, has three kids, is a regular reader of the world’s greatest beer blog that offers a plethora of  great tips on homebrewing, works as a sub-contractor for Chrysler, and…makes a hell of a good homebrew.

Seriously, I was pleasantly surprised by James’ brews, particularly in light of the fact that he hasn’t been brewing for years upon years.  In fact, he even threw in a mead (fyi…I’ve never brewed a mead) that was the best homemade mead (and I’ve had several) I’ve ever tasted…lightly sweet, very dry, with nuanced honey notes.  I hate mead that is a sticky sweet honey bombs that comes from stuck/incomplete fermentation due to lack of oxygen or nutrients.  We had a few folks over to try Mr. Shruga’s brews, and while they all enjoyed each creation, the ladies couldn’t keep their hands off the mead.  Here are a few pics of “the transaction” which began in a factory parking lot in Ohio and ended in a residential driveway in Missouri:

James in Ohio

"Burlesque" - a great Belgian Pale Ale

Saison Du Sophie - Well Balanced Saison

Nate - Ohio

There wasn’t a bad brew in the bunch, but I’d have to say I was surprised (pleasantly) by two. First was his Double IPA, “Valkyrie.” If you followed this blog for a while, you’ll know that while I enjoy IPAs and DIPAs, I am not a hophead and don’t seek them out, nor am I wowed by them. James’ Valkyrie blew me away. It was well balanced, and very rich and malty. It wasn’t a pure citrus bomb, being nuanced by peppery and spiced qualities. You could have blindfolded me, lined up this brew along side a bunch of GOOD brews by pro brewers, and I wouldn’t be able to pick out the homebrew.

Also notable was the “Starry Night.” This was one of the first I tried, simply because I was skeptical (sorry James). I am not a huge licorice fan, and Anise stars–a Chinese/Japanese spice that comes from unique evergreen seeds–tastes like licorice, a flavor I usually find a little overwhelming. In fact, way back in the day when I was less discriminating in what I drank, I tried a Manhattan Car Bomb (Guinness with a shot of Jager) and nearly hurled. But James Starry night, A stout brewed with Anise, was great. The licorice flavor was nuanced enough to not distract from the dark malty flavors.

I’ll be honest…I still have several of James’ brews left. I am letting some of them age (like the imperial wit…I’m waiting for some subtle sour notes to develop). James, if you are reading this, Thank YOU! It was a real treat, and I was honored to sample our brew. Keep brewing, because in brewing–just like playing the guitar or singing Karaoke–you’ve either got it or you don’t, and you do. I plan on sending some of mine your way. Due to the extreme brevity of my dad’s trip, at the last minute I forgot to send some Watson brew with you, but I will in the future.

For the past nine years, Mike, my husband and the Beer Scientist here @THFB, has delved deeper and deeper into the world of homebrewing, and the process of connecting with the past and embracing the simplest joys and experiences of human existence has introduced and reinforced (sometimes unexpected!) values in our life. Among the most important, the value for thrift has risen to a high place on the list.

I know, I know: in our culture of ready consumption and convenience, the practice of thrift has quickly disappeared from the landscape, even taking on a pretty negative nuance. But when I say “thrift,” I don’t mean to evoke images of cheapness or hoarding. I mean it in the sense that Wendell Berry uses in The Unsettling of America: “Thrift was [before the advent of the industrial economy] a complex standard requiring skill, intelligence, and moral character…” (page 115). So, I mean thrift in the sense of using creative and even inventive solutions to avoid being wasteful and making the most of one’s resources. And this creativity and inventiveness, I think, is actually quite consistent with the qualities it requires to (home)brew well.

Whether we have practiced homebrewing thrift out of necessity or by choice, we have experienced a certain satisfaction and personal pride in coming up with imaginative solutions for conserving, preserving, and saving. I wanted to share a few of those ideas with the hope that they might help you to save a penny or get more out of some obvious and not so obvious resources for brewing. This article is the first in a (hopefully long) series to explore “Thrifty Homebrewing.”

With Mike brewing nearly four out of every eight weekends on average (four successive weekends > wait for empty carboys > repeat), we throw away a lot of grains. Since we don’t have too high a volume, it’s not worth the time, gas, etc., to find a place to bring the grains for feed. However, we hate to see so much waste. One way we’ve been able to use at least some of the extra is by making spent grain bread, which is delicious! (One of my friends also makes Spent Grain Doggy Biscuits for her pups.) We make bread when the grains are fresh on the day of brewing, but we have also started dividing grains into three-cup measurements and freezing them in containers (yes, this involves baking and giving away a lot of bread!).

Below is a recipe I have modified from “Jasmine’s Spent Grain Bread” from the blog Beer at Joe’s.

Basic Spent Beer Grain Bread (a.k.a. The Reinhardt Spent Grain Brot):

• 2 c bread flour (King Arthur’s is great for the gluten structure) or all-purpose flour
• 2 c whole wheat flour  (you can adjust the ratio of the two flours, although the wheat flour should be no more than 50% of the total four cups)
• 2 tsp salt
• 2-3 tsp yeast (use a lesser amount for a more dense bread; more for a lighter bread; be aware that the gluten content of the overall bread will also affect the fluffiness, so you will want to take into account your choice of ingredients and density preference)
• ¼ warm water (110-115°F) for proofing the yeast
• ½ -¾ c milk (the higher end if your grains are relatively dry and you don’t use any of the wet forms of syrup)
• 3 c spent grain (drained but damp)
• ¼ c sugar, (real) maple syrup, honey, molasses, malt syrup, or a combination
• ¼ c butter or oil
• 1 egg, beaten
• 2-4 tbsp vital wheat gluten, optional (no gluten if you use the resting technique below; 1-3 tbsp if you don’t use the technique but use bread flour; 3-4 tbsp if you use all-purpose flour)
• Equipment I use: food processor, KitchenAid mixer with a dough hook; neither is a necessity.

1. Proof the yeast.

2. Measure out the flours in a large bowl and mix them together (I use a whisk). Set aside.

3. Place the grains and milk in a food processor and puree. You may have to do this in two batches depending on your food processor. If you do not have a food processor, you can use the grains whole, although I have found the scratchiness of the husk to be unpleasant if I don’t process the grains.

4. Transfer the grains and milk to the mixer bowl and stir together all of the ingredients except the flours.

5. Slowly add the flours, cup by cup.

Optional resting technique: If you like a lighter, fluffier loaf, you can use the following technique (compliments of the Beer Scientist, who has mastered the art of pizza dough using this very technique) in order to improve the gluten structure of your bread. After you have added three cups of the (King Arthur bread) flour, let the dough rest on the counter for about twenty minutes. Then add the remaining cup of flour and continue with the next steps.

6. If the dough is too sticky, you may need to add more flour. When the ingredients have been incorporated (hope you have the KitchenAid for this!), knead the dough until it is smooth for 5 minutes with the mixer or 10 minutes by hand.

In terms of blending the ingredients, Mike has an easier time with this (probably because he uses the above gluten technique!), but I usually finish incorporating the flour in the early part of kneading. As far as the wetness/stickiness of the dough, I have never made the bread without having to add more flour, so I recommend keeping some close at hand.

7. After needing, shape the dough into a ball and place it in a lightly oiled bowl. Cover it with a towel and let it rest in a warm place for 60-90 minutes—until the dough has doubled in size.

8. Punch down the dough and divide it into 2-3 loaves, depending how large you want your bread. Shape these into loaves and place them in lightly greased bread pans or on a cookie sheet. (You may score the tops of the loaves.) Re-cover with a towel and let the dough rise again until doubled, about sixty more minutes.

9. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Bake for about forty minutes. It may take a little longer if you only make two loaves. The bread will be nice and golden on top and sound hollow when you knock on the baked loaf.

10. After baking, let the bread cool for thirty minutes on a cooling rack. This is important as the bread will finish cooking during this time, so don’t cut into it too soon!

Enjoy!

A final note: This is a stiff dough, and I absolutely do not recommend using a bread machine; I haven’t tried it, but I would anticipate disastrous results.

Knowing more about beer than horticulture, I remember a couple of years ago asking the owner of  my the local homebrew shop if he had any “hop seeds.”  I cringed in embarrassment when he politely stated that he would be ordering “hop rhizomes” in the future.  So I went home and researched the hop plant…something I should have done before opening my mouth at the brew shop.  Hops utilize rhizomes to propagate.  A rhizome is simply a stalk, stem, or root mass that grows horizontally underground and sends out roots and shoots (vines, in the case of the hop plant) as it grows.  The cool thing about such plants is that once mature, simply chopping off a bit of the underground rhizome and transplanting it easily results in a new plant.

That being said, I finally got around to ordering a few rhizomes and planted them in the my backyard.  Hops love sun, but not wind, and require a well drained soil or else decay can occur.  They also are a climbing vine.  So, I planted my hops on the sunny side of the house close to the house wall where they are sheltered from the gusts of wind we get here in Kansas City.  I made little mounds of soil mixed with gravel to properly drain rhizome and it’s root systems, and built little walls of brick and rocks around the rhizomes.  Just two weeks later vines are poking out of the soil, and even though I know my yield will be only a few ounces this first year, I am giddy with excitement.  Soon I will be constructing a twine climbing system for my little acidic babies.

Below are pics of my future crop of hops.  I ordered my rhizome from Midwest Brewing Supply for just $4.99/rhizome.  In order that they appear, I am growing Cascade (cliche, I know), Hallertau, and Nugget.  The only difficulty I’ve had so far is trying to keep our Beagle pup, Henry, from trampling the fledgling shoots.  Do you grow your own hops?  Do you have any pics?

I use a Phil Mill to crush my grains.  The Phil Mill just my be the least sophisticated method of crushing grain.  In fact, it looks like something Laura Ingalls Wilder would have lying around her kitchen.   Unlike many larger two roller crushers that crush large amounts of grain between two steel rollers, the Phil Mill gets the job done with one small steel roller that compresses and crushes the grain against a curved steel plate.  The single roller–only about 2.5 inches long–is turned by hand.  The grain is fed into the simple mechanism via a hole less than an inch wide.  I fix a empty 2 liter soda bottle to the whole to feed the grain through.

Crushing 19 pounds of grain in this manner is a tiresome, but rewarding process.  Tiresome, because one pound of grain takes about 55 cranks.  You do the math…you’re in for a bulging bicep via this method.  Nonetheless, it is rewarding for several reasons.  First, the grain is crushed to a level of perfection I have yet to see any of my home brew shops attain to.  And I am not the only one…check out this guy’s review of the Phil Mill.  Besides this, I am rewarded each time I crank that little steel wheel, because I am reminded of the ancient and commonplace history of beer.  I think of all the farmers, vikings, monks, and family men of days past who produced their beloved beverage with the sweat of their brow and without the aid of sophisticated equipment.  I am reminded that beer is not rocket science…it is love and devotion.  Yeah, that probably sounds corny…but it is pretty darn accurate.

The history behind my Phil Mill makes the process even more rewarding.  I bought the mill from a guy off Craigslist who was helping his buddy’s widow liquidate his estate after his buddy’s untimely death.  When I bought it, he told me his deceased friend was a home brewing fanatic.  It’s nice to know that the little Phil Mill allows a legacy to live in while performing a steadfast duty.  It’s kind of like Toy Story Three…for home brewers.

Yeah…beer is all about sentimentalism.

Can I get a witness?

Well, as the title indicates, there is no home remedy I know of that surpasses a good home brew.  Sure, most “cold ones” are simply terrific after feeling dragged down.  But something that has only come about by planning, care, and “I don’t give a shit about the pace you prefer, I’m going to do it in my own timing” of home brewing that makes it particularly satisfying after a long day, week, or start to the week that knocks the socks off my tired feet.

Please tell me you know this joy!

Well, our friend has started growing grapes on his property in an attempt to make his own wine.  This year’s batch was actually pretty good. Last year, however, was not what Tom expected.  The long and short of it is that he counted on ambient yeast (i.e., the yeast on the grape skins) to give him his desired fermentation.  No such luck.  Some bacteria also got a hold of the wine and soured it.  Too bad for Tom’s barrels, they became unusable…for wine, that is.

Concurrent with Tom’s vine mania is my mania for lambics.  I’ve had a couple of these fun beers going for almost a year.  When Tom told me that his barrels were “no good,” I knew they were perfect for my purposes.  So, the day that Andrea and I got back, my lambics got transferred into the wine barrel…man, I love beer!

I think that’s changing.

Recently, several people have taken upon themselves to help in the creation of my beer labels.  This unsolicited kindness got my mind thinking about design.  For this reason I’ve started the process of drawing up some preliminary designs for my beer and have, despite myself, found it to be a type of brewing catharsis that I formerly knew nothing about.

Isn’t it interesting that the world of brewing offers so many passions (and newly found passions) that you might have never know otherwise?  I think so.  For me, there is a wider statement that should be made.  My beer just keeps giving back to me.  In some sense it has created a neurological junkism that continues to open up my mind and my world.

Several times on the site, I’ve appealed to the fact that my commercial beer purchases have seen a drastic decline.  In fact, I’m not sure that the word drastic captures the change.  It seems, in short, that it’s certainly about beer…but it’s perhaps about more than beer itself.  A whole new world of passions have been awoken.  And that is something that I sorely need sometimes.

What about you?  Do you make your own labels?  Has beer opened up your world?  I’m dying to know just know a little more about beer through your passion.

I’ve recently rediscovered the joy of brewing lower gravity (most recently a mild) brews. In the past, my brews have tended to be pretty big, wheat heavy, or fairly involved.  Large grain bills that take up quite a bit of space also take up a great amount of time.  The sparge time is, in my opinion, the (no pun intended) sticking point.  For all these reasons, I was afraid to start a brew after work.  Who wants to slave over a brew deep into the hours of the night?

I actually don’t mind, but now I’ve found an easier way. Smaller beers (in terms of gravity) are much easier to deal with during a work night.  I’m trying to increase the amount of beers I’m brewing to…well, let’s just say that I’m glad I have a two person household (government is something else). So, what’s a better choice than a relaxing evening of brewing while drinking a homebrew?  I mean, what am I going to do, watch T.V.?  I’d rather M*A*S*H than watch it anyway.  It’s four hours well spent.

Do you do the brew on a weeknight?