A beer thinker’s guide to life
The best brewer sometimes makes bad beer.
experimental beers with a botanical twist
The aroma was unmistakable, musky and strong, with hints of nutmeg, ginger, cinnamon—the quintessence of spice.
Up until that moment, I’d been intending to make some kind of very standard beer style—an IPA or a porter—and simply substitute yarrow for the usual hops.
My idea was to flavor a summer ale with a mix of common meadow plants, all gathered at the time of brewing, and thereby to try and capture the essence of a midsummer meadow. Much to my own surprise, I seem to have succeeded on the first attempt!
I’ve never found ground ivy to be anywhere near as bitter as the books say, but it could be the wild stuff I use tastes different from British or cultivated varieties.
My tasting notes say only “very tasty and strong,” but the fact that I still remember how good it was five years later ought to tell you something.
Juniper forms the dominant note, resiny and vaguely citrusy, supported by the camphor quality of yarrow and the spiciness of ginger. The bitterness is mild, equivalent roughly to a standard wheat beer.
Apparently possession of homebrewing supplies combined with seditious views can now get you charged with terrorism in the USA.
Bottling beer is complex enough without having to worry about cleaning all the bottles yet. If they’re already clean, all they need is a soak in sanitizer solution.
This was the first time in many years that I didn’t carefully weigh and measure everything and write it all down for future reference. But I have to say, it felt liberating not to.
It’s, uh, crisp and floral, medium-bodied, dry! (Can it be all those things at the same time? You sure hope so.)