The good life

Sally Toms embarks on a homebrew adventure.

Those who know me may laugh when I write that I am something of an aspiring hippie. I have this obsession with self sufficiency, you see. There’s a perfect harmony in nature that is extremely appealing. You grow your plant, eat what you need, compost the rest or feed it to your livestock. Nothing is wasted.

The brewing industry is a good example; the spent grain and hops can be used as fertiliser for the next crop or fed to cattle (either way it ends up back on the ground). It’s been the same way for thousands of years.

I quite fancy the thought of the daily baking and brewing that once occupied our ancestors and, as part of my transformation into Earth Mother, I knew I had to try it.

I would like to apologise in advance to any experienced homebrewers out there who may be reading this, cringing as I make a total mess of it.

Not quite ready to malt and mash my own barley, I opted for a kit – the packet sauce of homebrew, if you will. Some time ago I begged the nice folks at Woodforde’s Brewery for one of their Wherry kits, which is regarded as one of the best on the market, and I ripped open the box with glee.

But things have moved on since the ale wives of old first brewed for their families. Inside the box were two tins of malt extract, a sachet of yeast and instructions that would fit on a beer mat with room to spare.

Alright so it’s a far cry from the real deal, but you still get a certain amount of satisfaction standing over your plastic tub as the steam billows from the ‘wort’ (as well as a pretty good facial).

Close your eyes and you could be in a real brewery.

A day later it’s even starting to look like beer, with three or four inches of yeasty head.

The key to a good fermentation, I’m told, is in keeping the brew at a constant temperature. Which in February in Norfolk, when the weather fluctuates from freezing snow one day, to balmy Tshirt weather the next, is not easy.

Experienced home brewers will know all about little heated belts and trays you can buy to do this for you. I did not. Only now have I realised that homebrewing is easy only if you have the right gear.

Luckily for me, Jeff Rosenmeier from Lovibonds Brewery had foolishly agreed to offer advice as I embarked on my homebrew project. Together we discovered the mini cask I was planning to use as a conditioning vessel was far from ideal for a first timer. So there was I, with 40 pints of liquid which had already reached the end of its primary fermentation, and not one clue as to what to do next.

At this point I swear I could detect the faintest laughter coming from tub. It might have been the yeast, gradually receding like a foamy tide, but I think it was the ghosts of the ale wives talking: ‘Stupid city girl. What are you going to do now?’ What indeed...

By Sally Toms

Section : From the Editor

Page number : 5