Remember when Colin and I decided to start brewing our own beer? We began with an American amber, and - particularly considering it was our first attempt at homebrew - it turned out well. We held off on brewing a second batch because Colin was headed to Greece in the spring, but then he gave me ingredients to replicate one of my favorite beers (Dogfish Head Namaste) for my birthday. We were about to begin brewing when we realized that the optimal temperature range for the yeast was about 10 degrees cooler than our un-air conditioned apartment in the summer. So, we waited. Eventually, in October, our apartment was cool enough to brew.
This time, we did everything perfectly. We came away feeling confident that our beer would be delightfully refreshing and delicious--so confident, in fact, that we decided to brew another batch two weeks later, as soon as Namaste had been bottled. For that batch, we chose a red ale recipe and added hops homegrown by Colin's dad. Because it would be done just in time for Christmas, we dubbed it our Christmas Red.
Do you, dear reader, suspect that this is all foreshadowing for an epic disappointment? If so, you'd be right.
We waited patiently for four weeks until time to taste our Namaste. When the day came, we pulled out our special glassware and excitedly removed the caps. First impression: great carbonation! Second impression: beautiful color! Third impression: weird smell. Yep, our beer had soured. We gamely took a few sips before admitting that it was really pretty terrible (not at all like the sour beers that are so trendy nowadays) and pouring it down the sink. I didn't even get a picture. Over the weekend, we took it to the homebrew store down the street to see if they could diagnose our problem, and they jokingly dubbed it "Lacto Lemonade" for the suspected lactobactillus contamination that causes beer to taste acidic or sour. One of the employees told us she sort of liked it ("It's like lemonade!"), but I think she was just trying to be nice.
Anyway, after our Witbier Woes, we decided we'd better taste the Christmas Red just to see if it had also soured. It was still scheduled to carbonate for another week, but we opened a bottle anyway to assuage our fears. Our expectations were so low that we didn't even bother with proper glassware; we just grabbed a couple wine glasses that were drying on the counter and poured the beer on in.
Drumroll please...
It wasn't sour! It did have a different sort of aroma that may or may not be from the hops we added, but it's totally drinkable, and red, and carbonated. It may not be as good as our American Amber, but it isn't terrible. As for our current homebrew stats: win = 1 (Amber), tie = 1 (Christmas Red), loss = 1 (Namaste). It could be worse.
This time, we did everything perfectly. We came away feeling confident that our beer would be delightfully refreshing and delicious--so confident, in fact, that we decided to brew another batch two weeks later, as soon as Namaste had been bottled. For that batch, we chose a red ale recipe and added hops homegrown by Colin's dad. Because it would be done just in time for Christmas, we dubbed it our Christmas Red.
Do you, dear reader, suspect that this is all foreshadowing for an epic disappointment? If so, you'd be right.
We waited patiently for four weeks until time to taste our Namaste. When the day came, we pulled out our special glassware and excitedly removed the caps. First impression: great carbonation! Second impression: beautiful color! Third impression: weird smell. Yep, our beer had soured. We gamely took a few sips before admitting that it was really pretty terrible (not at all like the sour beers that are so trendy nowadays) and pouring it down the sink. I didn't even get a picture. Over the weekend, we took it to the homebrew store down the street to see if they could diagnose our problem, and they jokingly dubbed it "Lacto Lemonade" for the suspected lactobactillus contamination that causes beer to taste acidic or sour. One of the employees told us she sort of liked it ("It's like lemonade!"), but I think she was just trying to be nice.
Anyway, after our Witbier Woes, we decided we'd better taste the Christmas Red just to see if it had also soured. It was still scheduled to carbonate for another week, but we opened a bottle anyway to assuage our fears. Our expectations were so low that we didn't even bother with proper glassware; we just grabbed a couple wine glasses that were drying on the counter and poured the beer on in.
Drumroll please...
It wasn't sour! It did have a different sort of aroma that may or may not be from the hops we added, but it's totally drinkable, and red, and carbonated. It may not be as good as our American Amber, but it isn't terrible. As for our current homebrew stats: win = 1 (Amber), tie = 1 (Christmas Red), loss = 1 (Namaste). It could be worse.
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| Christmas Red in a wine glass |
