Brewers Union Blog 180

Huh? We need to have a talk.

2011-12-11T20:24:00.001-08:00

I'm not really sure how to write this. Not having much truck with incendiary or controversial threads, I tend towards keeping the flow middle of the road. If I were to argue, lets do it friendly-like. Over a pint or two. A lovely game of croquet comes also highly rated. This is just part and parcel of being a publican - smoothing things out, treating everyone as equals, keeping the smiles and the laughter above average and so forth.

However, I just sat down at my computer to write one of the many posts I've been muddling around in my head about my trip to England last month, and on my way to my grotty lackluster pub "office" I picked up the new copy of the Northwest Brewing News that gets shipped to us every two months. This copy was dated "December/Januaruy 2011/2012". Spell check.

I like this rag. I know some of the pens that regularly write for it. We've been mentioned in it, which is unusual given our size. It usually is a useful and informative read, and it has the best beer and pub listings and maps, with our own little numbered black dot on it. But. BUT. An article leapt out at me: The "Behind the Bar" column by Bob Brenlin entitled "The British are Coming, but we are Not CAMRA Ready." This got me a little bit miffed. I'll explain. Starting with the second paragraph:

… our cask tradition is not CAMRA (Campaign for Real Ale) approved, nor will it ever be.

True, generally speaking, up to the "ever be" part. That sentence needs some work, starting with the irony. The article goes on to talk about the MBAA meeting I went to in Seattle at the beginning of November, and how we (Americans) would have our lame attempts at cask ale chucked down the drain in England. Funny thing — I was invited to give a talk at the meeting to talk about how we, as a small cask brewery and public house, were following the tradition. The why's, the how's, the small bits of effort and infrastructure involved in making and serving a proper pint. The education of the staff. The training on British soil. Not mentioned in the article. At all.

I could go on and on with the article, pointing out my grievances (e.g. "casks must undergo secondary fermentation at room temperature"). I won't. Just read it for yourselves, if you can locate a copy; I don't believe they publish it online until archive time. Perhaps I should go back to the mundane principles of my original paragraph and just write about how lovely it was to once again sit in the Bear Inn in Oxford and relax over a pint of Ordinary. I can't, though, because I remember having a couple conversations with one of the two English brewers (mentioned in the article) at the Friday cask feast at the MBAA meeting. He was drinking from the firkin of our 3.7% Dark Mild that we donated to the cause, served through the Brewers Union portable beer engine kit. It was bright, flavorful, drinkable, traditional, and, at the end of the night, completely drained.

I DO want to argue now. Bring it on. I'll buy the introductory pint. The first of our properly brewed, cellared, and dispensed firkins of Tanninbomb (oaky old ale) goes on this coming weekend. It will be bright, traditional, and delicious. I'm just about to roll it onto the stillage. See you at the pub.

More Smoke

2011-12-06T12:04:00.001-08:00

As mentioned in my last post, there was a bit of replumbing needed in order to serve a firkin at High Street Cafe. It's done. It's not ideal, for reasons I'll get to, but this is the first time that real ale has been dispensed at any McMenamins establishment. Kinda cool, what?

Thanks to these slick Parker LIQUIfit fittings, the handpull can now pull from the usual Golden Gate kegs, or be switched to an adapter that hooks up to the 3/4" nut and tail that screws onto a cask tap. It works. For testing purposes, a few pints were liberated on Sunday after all was hooked up.

So, not ideal say I? It's a fine pint, and I'm sure it will sell well, but we're back to the problem of the physics of beer: temperature, carbonation level and methods of dispense. I get asked many times whether such-and-so can purchase and put on a cask of Brewers Union beer, and have to ask about where it's going to be kept and how it's going to be handled at the bar. At High Street all the beer is kept in an outbuilding in the back at 36°. Obviously this is a problem with cask conditioned beer. It is simply just too cold. As evidenced by our taste test, the temperature mutes some of the smokiness. The mouthfeel is also altered, such that instead of the impression of chocolaty smoothness you get a bite on the palette from the cold. Also, without a sparkler on the end of a swans neck on the hand pull (which is instead this wee little curved neck as seen below) you fail to achieve that tight creamy head all the way down to the bottom of the pint. It's still serviceable, though, and for a limited time you can have a pint both here at the pub if you're geeky enough to want to make the comparison.

The Big Smoke

2011-11-29T09:40:00.001-08:00

It's been a week now since I returned from a two week trip to England. Now that I've settled back in to the doldrums of the shoulder season, I should have a bit of time to catch up on the paperwork, brew some beer, and post a few observations of my wonderings and wanderings abroad. However, that's not what this post is about, in spite of the suggestiveness of title of the post being one of London's nicknames.

Instead, I'm enjoying a pint of a smoked porter residing in one of the pumps at the bar. I'm not much of one to head for the darker stuff, especially if it's smoky. Give me a pale pint of Ordinary or Best with a hearty malt base and a balanced hop blend, but this is not too bad. Its history began this spring when I was talking to the brewer at McMenamin's High Street Cafe in Eugene, my local when I'm "down in the ditch". He had a leftover partial sack of smoked malt sitting around, and we got talking about what to do with it. The plan became one of collaborating on a smoked porter up here at the brewery, to be shared between us. In October the plan finally came to fruition, and a very very smoky porter was born. Perhaps we shouldn't have chucked in the whole 45 lbs. of smoked malt, but it makes it mighty tasty with a side of bacon. I believe this to be the first ever collaboration between a McMenamins brewery and an outsider. See you at the pub for a pint, or at High Street once we do some replumbing in the beer storage room.

OK, Right Then, Time to Get Back Live

2011-11-04T09:07:00.000-07:00

August 12. Last post. It's been a nice break, from writing, that is. I believe I've mentioned here that I don't consider myself a writer. I don't experience that mild compulsion to put my thoughts into a more permanent form like I imagine the real writers do. But - it's time to get busy. It wasn't that there were no thoughts, mind you; just that I had too many things going on and sitting down at the computer wasn't one of them.

I'm now up near Seattle, attending the regional MBAA meeting. The topic for the meeting is cask-conditioned ale. Right up my alley. Some folks from OSU discovered our little pub and brewery this Spring and, as a result, I've had the honor to be invited to give a talk on cellarmanship. This should be interesting, as I've never given a "talk" before. But, what could go wrong? There's also some tasting forum, or panel, or some such thing, in which I think I get to sample some cask ales and talk about them. Simple. Easy. Then, this evening, there will be a cask feast where the shoulder rubbing and schmoozing should occur in abundance. I've delivered a cask of Jaws of Borrowdale, a sessionable Dark Mild, to the Elliott Bay Brewing Company for the event, and supposedly there will be around 20 offerings. More to come as I have time. It's morning now and I have to head over there to swing a mallet and change the ice quilts. And find a spot of breakfast.

Superannuation

2011-08-12T12:12:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow this community public house and brewery will have survived three years. I'm not sure I have, but the building is still intact, the walls, doors and windows function as designed, and none of the kitchen and brewery equipment is broken at the moment. Coincidentally, tomorrow is also the 3rd Annual Oakridge Keg and Cask Festival. The street in front of the pub will be closed, and there will be food, beverages and entertainment from 2:00 to 8:00. After the festival we will bring the music inside and continue the merriment. I brewed a special beer for our birthday: "3rd Superannuation Ale" is an English Strong Ale, weighing in at 6.1%. Also, the first cask of some small beer, "Little Sir John", will spring up its head. It's an Ordinary Bitter at 3.4% featuring five hops and five grains. I haven't had either of these yet; they were just tapped and vented this morning. But what could go wrong? See you at the pub.

NO WAY!!

2011-08-09T23:10:00.000-07:00

Pardon the caps and exclamation points, if you will, but this lowly pub and brewery that doesn't even care about winning awards has won an award. In a foreign country, no less. For an ordinary three grain and two hop Best Bitter. Well, that just goes to show ... something. I'll have to mull it over.

Eugene History Moment

2011-07-20T16:27:00.000-07:00

It may seem like a small thing. Indeed it is, depending on your perspective, but as a proponent of real ale it is significant. For Oregon Craft Beer Month I was invited to bring four casks of real ale to 16 Tons in Eugene. So far it's going well. There are now FOUR beer engines in place, in a makeshift setup, and four casks in a state of repose in a couple of coolers from which the kegs have been banished. Two of the pumps are mine, part of my portable pub setup, but thanks to Nate at Eugene Rogue and a fellow what goes by the name of Mr. P. we have a complete lineup. For Thursday and Friday expect to find (while they last, of course):

Cumbrian Moor, English Porter, ABV 5.0%

Above Average, I.P.A., ABV 5.2%, 10% rye malt

Wotcha A La Chinook, Best Bitter, ABV 4.4%, a cask of which is also on it's way to the GBBF

Baba O'Rye'ly, E.S.B. ABV 5.3%, 10% rye malt

Later tonight I'll head over and do the tapping and venting. We will also see what temperature the lowest setting on the cooler is designed to achieve. I'm hoping for around 50 of those archaic but well-known Fahrenheit degrees (that's 10 of the trendy but aloof Celsius degrees). After a fine breakfast of a single strip of bacon, a double experso (as we call it) and a ginger cookie I'll be back down in Eugene to hook up the lines and ascertain the state of the swill, as you will.

Following on the heels of this fine event is the Oregon Brewers Fringe Fest at Belmont Station in Portland. I much prefer being part of festivals in which brewers and/or owners are present, and am delighted to once again have been invited.

Half Pint Grammar

2011-06-19T13:21:00.000-07:00

We serve proper pints and half pints here at the pub, the latter being referred to as a "half". What is the plural of this, as when someone orders two halfs? Or is that halves? Or half's?

Back

2011-05-27T18:09:00.000-07:00

The impetus to write just hasn't been there lately. I don't consider myself a writer, and I'm still puzzled by the notion that I even bother to blog about our little community public house. But, tonights's the night. Woohoo.

It's been really grim up here the last two months. Rain and cold. Rain and cold. Sometimes heavy rain and cold. Sometimes really cold with a light drizzle. I think we've had five days of sun since the beginning of April. I vividly recall the incident of this occurring on a Sunday. Our little collection of local service sector businesses are eager to see Summer come and the return of positive cash flow. Some ponder closing, selling or moving. So do we. But, for now, we wait it out and send flowers to our creditors. And I, for one, get to make beer.

The days of "Frost on the Bumpkin", our Winter Stout, are over. I've steered the kettle (and associated bits of stainless pipes and whatnots) towards a warmer weather porter called "Cumbrian Moor". At 5% it's a little above the sessionable range, so I recommend having three instead of four. The second cask of an IPA called "B.R.O.W. Brew" is also pouring. This contains Barley, Rye, golden naked Oats and torrefied Wheat, hence the name, and is very pale. Since my brewery is so small, I was able to hop (get it?) down to one of the local homebrew stores in Eugene and secure three pounds of Falconer's Flight to chuck into the boil, a proprietary blend of aromatic and flavorful hops that showcase the West Coast way of thinking. This ale flagrantly violates the West Coast law that IPA's have to be strong, since it weighs in at 5.3% and doesn't make a fuss.

As a participant in the underground cask-swapping fraternity, I have secured a couple rare casks from our friends at Block 15 in Corvallis. "River Mudd" was on. Yep, I said "was". A bunch of people drank it already. Right now I am enjoying the other'n, the "Ctrl-ALT-Del", which shines in cask form. I take a certain amount of enjoyment out of knowing that our pub is the only one IN THE WORLD that has this outside of Block 15. I suggest that, since camping is rather miserable this holiday weekend, you should come down to the pub and play Hearts or Scrabble all day long over a selection of six wonderful handpulls.

When the cask swap offerings run out, I'm bringing out the first cask of our 100th batch of ale. It's modeled on an English stock ale, aged with oak chips soaked in Laphroaig. I will be tapping a cask once per month at the end of each month until it's gone. It might turn out to be swill, but it'll sure beat a can of Keystone Lite in a pinch.

A Quick and Random Post Over Lunch

2011-04-19T13:13:00.001-07:00

Back from Portland, and into the stream of consciousness that comes from sitting in an empty pub doing cleaning, maintenance and paperwork. A Subway sub and half pint of mild for lunch, a quick foray into the current blogroll (thanks again, Jeff - we need to open a proper real ale pub in Stumptucky), and some thoughts about spending some time in the city with the most breweries than any city in the world.

While I enjoyed being involved in setting up for the Firkin Fest at the Green Dragon, I can't escape the sense that there is nobody there that is really enthusiastic about it. I'm open to the idea that my perceptions are misguided, but I felt that the organization of the event, the publicity, and the follow through in producing acceptable printed information for the punters was lacking. On the plus side, it is soooo nice that the setup occurs the night before. This gives me a chance to vent the firkins and determine which are going to be well-behaved or not. After working through the lineup a couple of times, I decided that three of the casks were not going to be suitable for tapping until the morning. A couple of soft spiles overnight, and then I'll see what the new day brings. Out of those, two supplied me with the cellarman's badge of honor upon bringing the mallet to bear on the end of the tap. Good thing I brought a change of clothes.

This is not a "look at him, he's so cool" statement, but I think I was the only brewery dispensing his/her own wares. Well, for the first session, anyway. The second session was mine; after all, a man's gotta engage in research appropriate for his vocation. I believe I worked through 9 samples without trying a single IPA. Everything I had was, as I think might be the case in Lake Wobegon, above average. The only cloudy beer was the IPA from Columbia River, but I ran out of tickets before trying it. I also had to pace myself, as there were dark corners in pubs to spend the evening in with my book.

I did manage to take in a couple of the new breweries, Breakside and Burnside. I'm not here to do beer reviews, but I had a pint in each and scrutinized the atmosphere. The typical high-ceilinged Portland style venue continues to prevail. No dark corners here, with a pint of cask to nurse and local color to peruse under the watchful eye of a friendly and knowledgeable barkeep. Business was brisk, though, and I can't help but think of myself as being three sigma out when it comes to my thoughts about pubs in America.

As for pubs, those I think of as pubs, I frequented my favorites over a period of four days. Three visits to the Horse Brass and two to the Moon and Sixpence should be indicative of my chosen. I was very impressed that a single barkeep and a single waitperson at the Moon and Six kept the flow moving at 10:30 on a Saturday night. I made mine a Red Seal on cask, and it was perfect.

Now I'm back to work, work, work. I discovered while cleaning the brewery this morning that the sump that services the brewery and the prep kitchen is stuck off, meaning that fat from the grease trap is messing with the float. Another job, I guess. But it's not so bad. It's a beautiful Spring day, and summer is coming with the teaming hordes sitting outside on the patio drinking proper pints of small bear and chomping on great pub specials off the specials blackboard. I also am thinking through what to brew for my 100th batch, which will take place on Thursday. That jar of oak chips that have been soaking in Laphroaig for over a year might find a home in this endeavor. See you at the pub.

Jaws of Borrowdale

2011-04-06T14:32:00.000-07:00

With the sound of the March page being ripped out of the calendar, I thought it would be nice to bring on a Mild. After all, May is Mild Month in England, and I wanted to get a head start. Sitting before me is a sample (pint-sized) of "Jaws of Borrowdale", a Dark Mild named after a feature of the Central Lake District of England. I had the pleasure of a wander back in September of 2006 from Penrith to Boot which took me up to the top of Catsbells and then down through the Jaws along the Derwent and into one of my favorite Lakeland valleys - Borrowdale. So, here's a refreshing tribute to memories of Stonethwaite, Rosthwaite, Seathwaite and that rainy climb up past Styhead Tarn into Wasdale. Cheers! (And don't even THINK of sipping it.)

I was a bit reluctant to wire up all six pumps today, what with April being one of those dismal rainy months that calls for a paucity of chatter in the pub and a lonely till behind the bar. There is a risk of having on too many active casks that could linger and drift towards vinegar whilst the thirsty punter languishes at home in front of the TV eating Cheetos and watching the rain dribble down the windowpanes. However, my thoughts wandered to the beauty of a smart looking lineup on the blackboards and I caved. So, if you're tempted to just stay at home, think of what you're missing. There is also a pretty good chance that a cask will be pouring at Belmont Station next Friday the 15th. See you at the pub (or Belmont Station).

Moments Like This

2011-03-26T18:22:00.000-07:00

There aren't enough moments like this. It's about 9:00 on a Friday night. There are three musicians in the house, playing sometimes separately, sometimes together. Unlike many nights when there is live music at the pub, there are actually people listening and enjoying. There is a boisterous pool game going on on the other side of the partial wall, seen through the windows from where I'm sitting way in the back by the office. Off at the end of the bar are some lively conversations. There are a couple of ladies dancing in the parlor, seen through another set of windows. The Cranium game in the Henhouse has been going on for hours, and is still going strong. And as I continue scanning this unlikely public house in the middle of timber country, I see tables covered with Imperial pints of locally brewed cask-conditioned ale, the overwhelming beverage of choice. There aren't enough moments like this.

Tricks to Get Away For a Spell

2011-03-16T22:28:00.000-07:00

One must get out once in a while, for the sake of sanity, well-being and a proper recharge, so fortunately there are festivals and tastings coming up. Tomorrow I haul a cask up to Belmont Station in Stumptucky for the opening of their 14th Anniversary weekend. I jumped on the opportunity when asked. So, Friday I get to draw a firkin of Quid Hoc Sibi Vult, as well as sampling the other interesting wares. Going up on a Thursday to get the cask settling means I have an evening to spend at the Highland Stillhouse on St. Patrick's Day. I'll be good.

There are other escapes in the works. The 4th Annual Firkin Fest at the Green Dragon is coming up on the 16th of April. Looks like the offerings have crept up to 30 breweries. I'm betting I'll be bringing the ale with the lowest ABV.

The beginning of May marks the advent of the first Eugene Beer Week, culminating in the annual Sasquatch Brew Fest. I don't know if I'll be at Sasquatch, as it's hard for a brewery of my size to attend festivals that expect donated beer, but there are some rumblings about some firkins being liberated at 16 Tons. It's nice to see the Southern Willamette Valley making some noise. Why should Portland get all the attention?

Another interesting invite this year was the 5th Annual Festival of Arts and Wine .... and Beer! at the Mount Angel Abbey in June. I tried to pencil out how I could attend, but this is a limited attendance event and I had doubts that 3 oz. servings for 500 to 700 people would be sufficient to drain two casks. It would've been more for my own benefit in engaging in a breather, and, from what I was told, the interest and benefit of the monks who have a certain fondness for their ale of a traditional nature. A shame, that is; I would've liked to have spent a week in their library.

Now as the pub is winding down on a quiet Wednesday night, I'm scratching this entry out between casks on the cask washer for a filling early tomorrow morning. Then a quick packing up of the portable real ale kit and I'm on the road. I'll be missing the festivities at the pub tomorrow, what with the St. Patrick's Day release of the last, six month old cask of Tanninbomb, but I can at last test it out tonight before wiring it up to the pumps. It's up to you to have a pint tomorrow, so don't be a slacker.

Silent Movie

2011-02-16T13:31:00.000-08:00

I would've figured, what with the three people coming around the KLCC Microbrew Festival to our booth festooned with gadgetry, that at least SOMETHING I said was worthwhile. Oh, well, at least we got a moment of dispense.

Au Naturel

2011-02-11T16:00:00.000-08:00

Wow. Almost a month since my last post. Some might think this as either a sign of being too busy, or maybe just a lack of compelling material. Truth is, I started several posts and have subsequently deemed them to be rubbish. But now I sit in a pub in Eugene in anticipation of the opening of the KLCC Microbrew Festival. Once again we are down here in Eugene trying to cool casks with ice blankets and artfully fielding questions like, "is that a nitro tap?"

This year's collaboration (or collabrewation, as I like to call it) beer is right up my alley. Those brewery type folks what attended the meetings that I couldn't go to decided we should all brew a sessionable pale using a single malt and a single hop. Each brewery was to choose a different hop and use their house yeast. I am now working with Wyeast London ESB (WY1968). I was, of course, curious how the gray matter of a West Coast brewer would interpret the concept of sessionable. Would Ninkasi produce a 6% pale using Citra, for instance? I shot for a nice low ABV session (or ordinary) bitter using U.S. Challenger. 130 lbs. Gleaneagles Maris Otter went into a 2 UK BBL batch, with 1.2 Kg Challenger at the top of the boil and two 0.2 Kg drops toward the end. Talk about pale. It's a bit deceiving, though, as it comes across nice and spicy/bitter, with a wee little malty note towards the end. All this at 3.2% ABV. I decided to call it "Au Naturel".

I had the pleasure last night of popping over to Oakshire last night where a gaggle of the brewers brought over jars and growlers of their batches. The naked malt and hop flavors and aromas make for interesting comparisons, as the distractions of specialty malts or hop cocktails are absent.

In less than an hour I head over for the opening shift. I like to have myself and/or my staff present to serve, so we are well represented and can handle questions. We are also pulling a cask of "Mutt", which I hoarded just for the festival, much to the chagrin of some or our regular customers. Hope to see you at the festival. I'll be there for the full two days this year, as there is no conflict with productions from my local theater group.

Production Is UP!

2011-01-16T13:12:00.000-08:00

I've just finished the last TTB (Tax and Trade Bureau - i.e. The Gummit) brewpub report for the year 2010. I'm only a few days late, no biggie. This is a quarterly report that states (a) how much beer was produced in the brewery, and (b) how much was removed for "tax determination", i.e. we drank it. Eagerly, I tallied up the production numbers for the four quarters of 2010, and am delighted to declare that we have busted the 100 BBL mark. For 2009 we only cranked out 92.07 BBL. 2010 witnessed a staggering production of 104.64 BBL, an increase of 14%. Cask ale is on the rise. For all you British readers out there, these BBL figures employ our pathetic American barrel measure; the equivalent Imperial Barrel measure is 75 BBL, or 21,600 proper pints of elixir.

As you can see, there is much work ahead of us for 2011. Let's shoot for 200 BBL. Sounds outrageous? Well, it is, but who wants to give up now. See you at the pub.

2011, Late at Night

2011-01-01T22:40:00.000-08:00

I was going to say that it just doesn't end, but it does. The pub was closed today, albeit without second-hand complaints from a few, but it was nice to take a day off. Well, most of one. While the door is locked, there is still a lot of pottering about that takes place.

It's late night on the first of the year. I'm not prone to making "best-of's" or collective summaries just because a number increases by one, but was sitting at my favorite pub table near the bar, armed with notepads and the trusty computer and bits of whatnot, and got an inspiration to take a grainy iPhone photo of the dormant bar and environs. It had a nice peaceful look to it, resting up for another year of the social melee. There is year-end inventory to deal with right now, and my accountant has made a number of demands about cash-on-hand and mileage and so forth. I find it a bit petty, myself, but one must at least hazard a dance with the rules, or at a minimum flirt with them across the dance floor from the comfort of the punch bowl and the attractive platter housing the cheese and cracker selection. Also, our New Years Eve party, full of lively locals and winter revelers and replete with the bluesy strains from Kip (who played for 4.75 hours) drained a couple firkins of ale that needed tending to tonight. Fear not, the stillage is stocked and the pumps should be flowing tomorrow for the last day of the Winter Break.

After going a month without being able to brew due to lack of funds, a bit of money was scraped together for another pallet of grain. The Big Winter Stout is finally in the fermenter. Yep, I'm just starting to brew the winter beers now. Winter's not over; just getting going. The opening of the ski season on Thanksgiving weekend resulted in the increase of the amount of brass in the coffers to the point that it once again doesn't feel hopeless playing the publican in this wayward town up in the mountains. In the long dark teatime of November I couldn't help but think about just packing the pub up and moving it to a more populated domain. Now, just looking at this temporarily dormant little block building on First Street, with the beat-up furniture and the weathered Mac Court floor and those enticing England Worthside pumps on the bar.... I think I'll see what happens tomorrow. Tenacity. I have a little bit left, and if I want to appear borderline sane tomorrow I must finish up here with the stuff behind the scenes that doesn't end and get some sleep, because 2011 awaits. See you at the pub.

There and Back Again

2010-12-24T16:49:00.000-08:00

This last week was consumed with traveling to Upstate New York and back, my old stomping grounds. It was my parent's 50th wedding anniversary, which cleverly coincided with mine and my sister's birthdays. Outbound was a drive to Portland for the red-eye involving Houston and Newark before landing at the diminutive Ithaca Tompkins Regional (used to be County) Airport. The return, given Delta's reluctance in getting airborne when scheduled, involved cramming us into standby's that featured Detroit and Atlanta before getting back to Stumptucky. I was reminded of a story by The Onion whilst in transit. Needless to say, I took any opportunity I could to sample a refreshing beverage.

There certainly are more options in Ithaca than when I left there almost 20 years ago. Names like Saranac, Southern Tier and Magic Hat were evident. It was good so see that the Ithaca Beer Company was still around, and my perception was that the brews were better than the last time I was in the area around five years ago. If only they wouldn't serve them so cold. The old Chapter House, which actually housed a small brewery back in the late eighties and early nineties dispensed the best pint I think I had while in Ithaca; the Ithaca Beer Company's Flower Power IPA. This was partially due, I think, to it being served at a decent temperature and not over-carbonated. It was also nice to see that they finally fixed the lights in the sign.

Back in Portland, I had a chance to visit a few places in search of cask, a concept lacking in the Finger Lakes region of New York. The Bridgeport Ale House on Hawthorne was suggested by Mr. Beervana, and as I had never been there I gave it a go. The Bridgeport IPA on cask tasted just like the pint I had a couple years ago at the modernized restaurant and brewery on Marshall. There's something dry and metallic about it that puts me off a little. The Ebenezer, however, was decent. I didn't even mind the atmosphere that much. After hitting Powell's, I had to pop over a few blocks to the Deschuttes gaff, since I know it has decent cask. It did - a drop of the classic ESB. Measure was off, though, but I didn't complain about not getting my entire 0.5 liter as I didn't feel like getting glared at.

Next up is a (wishful thinking) return to England to revisit proper pubs and to refresh my palatte. Cash and check donations for the travel fund can be sent to the pub via USPS or hand-delivered.

Missing

2010-12-14T13:00:00.000-08:00

I was just reading the latest issue of the Northwest Brewing News, and there is yet another of those Best Beers sections. Missing from this list, again, are Bitter and Mild and anything on cask. I did notice that Cascadian Dark Ale is now officially a style. Well, here at the brewery I invented a style called O.R.A. - Oakridge Red Ale - that is a hoppy dark red ale made from leftover sacks of hops and grains. I wonder how long it will take to get the style noticed, approved and copied.

Them There Holidays

2010-11-24T15:27:00.000-08:00

A small but satisfying part of the day was spent cleaning beer lines and trundling casks around. The snows are falling, and the ski resort up the hill will be opening on Friday. This means that the Winter lineup, as chaotic as it has been in the past given the size of our brewery and the amount of traffic that passes through here this time of year, is starting to take shape. First off, I tried again to make a Morland Old Speckled Hen Clone like I did last year. The results were better, what with actually using the specified ingredients instead of making a couple of substitutions. I'm having a pint right now.

Next up is our Winter Seasonal. The first cask of Tanninbomb is on Pump Number 5 (tm). This year's version of the Oak-Aged English Old Ale came out with a much fruitier nose and flavor that last year. Go figure. Same ingredients. It was probably the fact that I was on a fourth generation pitch of Nottingham from the half-gallon mason jar archive that did the deed. I have a suspicion that there are some insurgent bacteria strains that worked their way in, giving it a hint of sourness that I find quite nice, but I'll leave that up to all the bacterium experts clogging the airwaves (blogwaves) these days. This will be my next pint.

The third tipple on the pumps is a rare cask of the Cavatica Stout from Fort George Brewery in Astoria. The Grateful Deaf guy has been driving firkins around the state, and we traded with a cask of the Grateful Deaf American Pale Ale. I had a pint of this on gas when I was up there in September, and I have to say that the cask version really shines over the colder fizzy version.

All of this is not to suggest that the other three pumps are bored silly. Good stuff on those as well. Also, Winter Grub fills the plates, including our new and improved Proper English Hand-Cut Chips. Also also, on Friday and Saturday there will be live holiday music, with Americana with Craig and Tom (and maybe Steve) on Friday, and Celtic (drinking) songs on Saturday with the Lads of Leisure. See you at the pub.

Experimental Beer

2010-11-13T20:33:00.000-08:00

Inspired by the discussions on "experimental beer" here and here, I'm going to use up extra and leftover ingredients tomorrow (Sunday) to make something reddish, hoppy and slightly roasty. The BJCP fans will have fun with this one. I've just trolled through the millhouse and hop storage and made a list of what's been sitting back there and needs to be used, now that it's November and we're losing money and need to use up what we have. I now have a list of 6 grainy bits and 5 pellety and aromatic things that are going into the Big Copper. The ratios are fun to work out, but I trust that whatever happens, my alternate aphorism of "what could go wrong?" will grind into gear and something flavorful and fermentable will employ its magic in FV1.

My principle aphorism, by the way, is "if it ain't broke, fix it until it is". I'll be muttering both of these sayings during the rigors of the brew day. Now, if I can just decide whether to use the Mason jar of harvested California Ale Yeast (which I don't like as it's top cropping and doesn't let me observe the ale during fermentation) or the plastic tub of North Yorkshire yeast from the Grateful Deaf brew. I'll let you know. See you at the pub in a couple of weeks when we get to drink it and marvel at the simplicity of professional brewing. I'll be the first guinea pig.

Motley Crew

2010-11-04T12:54:00.000-07:00

Yep. Another blog picture of casks lined up in the brewery. This time is special. Again. These casks, except for the brown plastic one on the end, are part of a Grateful Deaf brew project. A guest brewer by the name of Ken Fisher has been wanting to brew here for some time now, and that event is now a thing of the past. It was his recipe, and all the casks were provided so I didn't have to dip into my short supply for the regular batches. Some of them are stamped "Rogue", and there is an old Adnams and a Ringwood cask in there as well. I couldn't get the Adnams one clean, so substituted one of my own.

Ever since using the CypherCo plastic casks in England, I don't get that excited with the prospect of lugging around and cleaning stainless casks. They are too heavy for one thing. The older ones don't even have handles, so hauling them up to the second story on the stillage is a hernia waiting to happen. When I hoisted my last cask, the plastic cask, up to the cleaning sink after cleaning seven stainless ones, I had the experience akin to reaching into the fridge for the milk container thought to be full (and not) and crashing it into the shelf above. So light, friendly and stackable they are. And they roll well and have handles on both ends.

The formal unveiling of the Brewers Union Local 180 version of the Grateful Deaf American Pale Ale is to be tomorrow (Friday) at 4:00, but I have permission to put it on the board today. So I did. In fact, I'm sipping a half right now, and it's delicious. 5.2% ABV. The North Yorkshire yeast adds a nice subtle fruitiness. See you at the pub.

Brewers's Fare

2010-10-21T15:23:00.000-07:00

Casking-up day requires a certain amount of energy. All that exhausting five minutes of waiting between casks allows time for bothering the kitchen to provide the correct blends of proteins that pull one through. This time it was an experiment in spicy deep-fried meatloaf. I've paired it with a pint of malty special bitter, which brings out the gentle bite of the ketchup coating under the bitter batter made from our bitter. The mallet serves not only the purpose of knocking in shives and keystones, but also wards off intruders eager to rob me of my fare.

Our Fresh Hopped Beer

2010-10-16T21:03:00.000-07:00

There's all this noise out here these days about these fresh-hopped beers. Festival after festival after festival. Release after release after release. Well, we've been growing some hops up the side of our rural Oregon house now for three years, and every year I insert an item on my multi-page list of stuff to do that I will indeed harvest some for a batch of beer that I hope people will drink. All eight casks. Gotta make a living somehow.

This year I managed to harvest 150g. I (really really) would've harvested more but the item didn't make it to the top of my list until, perhaps, too late. Notice the browning of the hops in the bucket. This might not be a Bad Thing (tm), though, as there was a nice aroma and lots of yellowy dandruff inside the cones. My wife, who purchased the rhizomes, can't remember what she bought, but they smelled a bit like Willamettes. Good enough for me to put in the copper.

My prior life as an engineer taught me to only change one variable at a time and measure the results. I broke this rule with this batch, as I've been starting a series of Best Bitters in which the finishing hop is the only changing variable. The original bitter, called "Wotcha" and weighing out at a hefty 4.4% ABV, went for two batches (4 UK BBL) this summer. A lovely pint, as I'm fond of saying. The batch that just hit the pumps today substituted 150g of Amarillo (thanks to Block 15 in Corvallis for selling me a little ziplock baggy of the stuff) for the 150g of E.K. Goldings that inaugurated the series. A break from tradition, methinks. And then the mystery hop got tossed in. Now we all have to drink it.

Oh, and I was also pitching a harvest of California Ale Yeast of my last batch of "This Time For Sure" (Hoppy Pale Liquid Refreshment) into the stew, so there are now three variables butting heads in the cask. I'm not so wild about this strain, which will be fodder for a future post. Drinkable? Yes, definitely. See you at the pub.

Other People's Brewpubs

2010-10-04T12:12:00.001-07:00

Now that I'm back from five days away, and have gotten through a weekend indicative of the decline in trade typical of October and November, I'm going through my trip notes. This the first time I've been able to try some new (to me) brewpubs in the Seattle area. Here goes.

Big Time Brewing Company. Up near the University of Washington. Loved it. This is the kind of place you can plunk yourself down and hang out for a while, so I did. As mentioned in previous posts, I really like bar service, and enjoyed being able to drift up to the bar at will to acquire my next sample. Beers were nice. I ran into the head brewer for Pike here, who had just been at my pub a couple of weeks before on his way to Crater Lake, and arranged to meet him at the Pike Brewery the next day. I wished the ABV's were posted on the beer chalkboard.

Hales Ales. I've been wanting to go here for a while. I met the owner up in Portland at a Belmont Station festival, and was eager to give his joint a try. Joy of joys, the beer engine was tethered to a cask of Supergoose, which was superb. The other pint I had there was the H.S.B. on nitro, which was also above average and a real delight. Parking was a real nuisance. Hales has much more of a restaurant feel to it, but the lighting and the wood in the bar area was not too bad.

The Cask. Not open until 4:00. It was 2:00. Drat.

Pike. I've been there before, but not for a brewery tour by the head brewer himself. They dispense a pumped cask ale every Monday, and as there was some left on Tuesday when I was there I promptly tucked in. My British friends would be horrified at the typical cloudiness of the cask offerings in the Northwest, but flavor is not compromised. The 30 BBL brewery is a beautiful piece of engineering, with an interesting spiral staircase that has to be ascended and/or descended 33 times during the brewing process.

Elliot Bay Brewing in Burien. I popped in for a quick bite and pint before heading back south to Portland. Definitely a restaurant that brews its own beer. They used to have two beer engines, but was told one was broken. The working unit was allegedly a permanent fixture, and when I was there was dispensing (another) IPA. Very nice though.

One last stop in Washington was the Fish Brewing Company in Olympia. I've also been here many times before on the way through the I-5 corridor to wherever. They still had a single beer engine pouring, and as has been my experience in the past, the liquid dispensed is spot on room temperature. I slogged my way through a pint of the warm Oktoberfest and wouldn't recommend it. Why can't they spend a few dollars on a cooler and stillage for the cask, and make a nice bitter?

My next trip away needs to be to GMT+0, and soon. I know it's wishful thinking at this point, but I need to hold it out there as a future goal.

I'll Be Back

2010-09-25T23:51:00.000-07:00

I'll be back. That could mean a number of things. It might be a quote from a Sci. Fi. movie, which in this case it ain't. What it is is one of the finest utterances that a new customer can offer (another being "that was the best pint of beer I've ever had.") A friendly couple was down last night listening to music and having a few pints. Turns out they have walked a lot of the same parts of Northern England that I have, and knew what pubs, craic and ale are all about.In contrast, we sometimes get customers that are clearly unhappy that nobody is waiting their table, and that they have to go "ALL the WAY back to the bar" for another pint. A few have gone so for as to urge me, for the sake of the business, to change my operating model. I try to explain how the character and personality of a pub is diminished when the focus changes from a place to get together (oh, and maybe have a pint or two and some food) to a place where one goes primarily to have a meal. But when the wayfaring traveler comes through the door and settles in with a pint, a book and a content expression, all is well and the sun shines on the bemused countenance of humanity.

"I'll be back" is also an assertion that I have a high probability of achieving later in the week, as I'm about to head out for a needed few days away from the pub. It's nearly a certainty. I mean, I might just end up on a plane bound for Edinburgh, but that idea will no double consign itself to the dustbin of wishful thinking. As usual. There are things to be accomplished in parts far removed from the locus of daily exertion, such as the simple act of thinking without interruption, and I'm determined to get on with it. There are some lovely rural parts of Oregon and Washington to mess around with, and I'll be checking out some Seattle and Portland haunts that I've never been to come mid week. Perhaps I'll be in your gaff, settling in with a pint, a book and a content expression. See you at your pub.

Change

2010-09-10T10:38:00.000-07:00

I was in Eugene last night to pick up the new dray wagon that's replacing Green Jeep (deceased) and managed to get in some walking and pub crawling. My boots directed me at one point to Cornucopia on 17th and Lincoln for to see what was on the beer list. Over a pint of Lagunitas Saison (alas cold and fizzy, but satisfying) I encountered a copy of a Northwest brewpub guide sitting in a mini stack of books at the back "bar". I just had to thumb through the whole thing, since it was published in 1996. That's 14 years ago! I was struck by how much had changed. Many of the listed breweries no longer existed. Eugene at that point had six; only two of those listed survived. The Southern Oregon Coast had three, and now they are no more. The North Fork Brewing Company up near wee little Deming, Washington was listed as up-and-coming, and it's not only open but thriving in an unlikely location.

Now I really want to know why. What are the stories behind these ventures? What might I be able to learn that could help our little pub to survive? Having made it over two years in an "economic downturn", I'm much more aware of the number of things that can go wrong. Cash Flow. Taxes. Penalties. Staffing. Broken equipment. Stress. Long hours. It's a fragile business. These days the Internet, while useful in some ways, can be poison. A single bad comment or review will travel around the world before a good comment even gets its britches on. Nevertheless, a measured amount of determination and hard work will continue to be employed here. We have a nice little pub in a beautiful location. We have SPAM on the menu. We have proper pints of real ale. What could go wrong?

A new batch of porter will likely hit the pumps this weekend, and Tanninbomb is in FV1. See you at the pub.

Brewers Union's BEST WEEKEND EVER

2010-08-22T19:07:00.000-07:00

I grew up reading Richard Scarry. My kids were subjected to it as well. Under certain circumstances I can still happily leaf through a volume of "HUCKLE CAT'S BUSIEST DAY EVER". Just what exactly this has to do with this post is still in question.

Mountain Bike Oregon brings a lot of people to town. They like bikes. They like trails. They like beer. On Thursday, as they head to Greenwaters Park to set up camp and get oriented, they find themselves becoming hungry and thirsty. Fortunately, there is a nearby pub that offers solutions to both. And even more fortunately, as we are sponsors of the event, each rider, guide and industry personnel gets a ticket for a free pint of our ale. There IS such a thing as free beer. It's obviously the first introduction to some to the goodness that is real ale, so a brief explanation is often required. I had one person come back up to the bar and yell "this beer is warm", to which I replied "free, too". He did manage to get through it anyway. That's the good news. The bad news that's also good news is that we're running out of beer again. The pumps certainly have been busy. A cask of Union Dew (as dispensed at the 2010 GBBF) was dispatched in two hours on Thursday, and the hoppy amber died shortly afterward. I now have to get back to brewing, as the brewery is full of empty casks that need washing and eventual filling.

The sad part of the busy weekend was the sudden passing of Green Jeep. Green Jeep has been with us for 15 years, leaving trails of motor oil as it has delivered casks to remote backwaters such as Corvallis and Portland in the last few years. Chef, having borrowed my car, was coming back from Eugene with the food run for the weekend when he was hit by a driver trying to shave off a minute or two on his way to the valley. Just why these things happen, along with the death of the ice machine, on a busy weekend, I'll never know. He's OK, recovering from some injury to his hand, and will be back on duty by the next weekend hopefully. Green Jeep will need to be replaced with a new dray wagon once we find out if the money I've been paying to the insurance company for 15 years will pay off.

Superannuation # 2

2010-08-13T11:30:00.000-07:00

It's been two years to the day since the pub opened. I don't really remember those first few weeks. I do remember working almost all the time after that, often until two or three in the morning, until October when business started really slacking off. I had never run a pub and brewery before. What I learned about it I picked up in a foreign land, brewing beer, working an English bar, fixing stuff, and finding out what really goes on behind the scenes. But we're still here - amazing considering the economy and the unusual weather this winter and spring. And I'd like to write more about this, but I have to work the bar at noon and it's already 11:35 AM. Come visit us today and bring presents.

Bits and Pieces

2010-08-07T14:34:00.001-07:00

Who has the time for this? It's the busy season - no time to sit in a corner with a laptop and dribble some drivel. However, a pint was sounding pretty good, so off to the couch in the front parlor of the pub for a typing session of random bits and pieces.

Bit # 1: It's been two weeks since I was up in Portland at the Belmont Station for the OBF Fringe Fest. I didn't go to the OBF, since it's just too big and impersonal for my tastes. Much more fun to pull pints for the punters and rub shoulders with brewers and so forth. Two firkins of real ale were drained by 3:00 on Sunday. I'd never seen so many tickers and notebooks in one place.

Bit # 2: I visited some new places and some old while up in Stumptown. As for the new, I tried Migration, Coalition and Apex. Portland definitely has an architectural obsession with the big shiny metal and brick box motif. I hope they do well, but I'm still looking for cozy and 6 pints of session.

Bit # 3: I often wonder how many brewpub owners in this state wash dishes, bus tables and work their own bars.

Bit # 4: The Great British Beer Festival was this last week. There is evidence that a firkin of Union Dew from the Brewers Union survived the rigors of a Trans-Altlantic journey. I really need to get back over there someday.

Bit # 5: We're running out of beer. I'm brewing twice a week now to make up for the increased traffic and to prepare for the onslaught of Mountain Bike Oregon. Low ABV cask ale does sell.

A Real Festival

2010-07-20T19:41:00.000-07:00

I've been invited to the Oregon Brewers Fringe Fest this coming Saturday at the Belmont Station in Portland. Some beer was invited too. This sounded so like my kind of festival that I wrangled another couple days away from the pub. That's how it should be, really; a few days away every now and again. I like seeing the words "brewer" and "founder" in the listings. There should be some good elbow-rubbing and lore-exchanging going on.

As this last weekend's Mountain Bike Oregon event decimated by ready supply of firkins, I have to be careful of what to bring so as to keep the home front steadily supplied. I'm even brewing two days in a row this week, today and tomorrow, to make sure that all those empties get filled when I get back. The selection is going to be "Wotcha", a golden Best Bitter, ABV 4.4%, and "60 Love", a hoppy amber liquid refreshment, ABV 5.4%. This last one is exactly the same as the last batch of "This Time For Sure" that was poured at the Belmont Station back in April, but using 60 Lovibond Crystal instead of 15. This will be the first cask of the batch being tapped, so I'm hoping it doesn't turn out to be rubbish.

TYNDA Rally

2010-07-09T17:46:00.000-07:00

We had a well-behaved international motorcycle rally here back on the 26th of June. I just discovered some photos in my grainy iPhone archive. The other side of the street was equally endowed with well-loved machines. I didn't notice any Dneprs or Urals this year, but it might've been because I was pulling a lot of pints behind the bar.

Adventures in Dry Hopping

2010-07-08T09:23:00.000-07:00

I was gently prodded by another blogger last night that I hadn't blogged in a while. I knew that, and one of these days I'll explain why (hint: long hours). I do have a backlog of exciting and provocative topics in the queue. This is one of them.

Having ready access to firkins in their beautiful simplicity, seeing as I'm the guy that washes and fills them, I recently conducted raw science on levels of dry hopping in aforementioned vessels. As you all know but I'll say it anyway, dry hopping is a way of increasing the hop aromas in that pint that you are feverishly clutching. Here at the The Brewery I use Type 90 Hop Pellets, for reasons that for the time being will remain in my queue of unposted topics. These (hint: convenient and space-saving) objects are measured out and dumped into the cask prior to hammering home the shive. The last two batches of "This Time For Sure" (BJCP style designation: Hoppy Pale Liquid Refreshment) employed 50g of Cascade/firkin. Batch 3 was the victim of true science, for I bunged 100g in one of the eight casks, and another received 150g.

Take Home Lesson: Don't do it; unless you want to annoy the publican attempting to draw the first few pints. It clogs up the hop filter at the end of the tap, and seems to get stuck in other things as well. After a couple water rinses through the line and a few pints dispensed in the time-honored gravity method out of the cask, a normal state of dispense was achieved. The gravity pints, albeit delicious, were left with a thick green sludge at the bottom.

I'm brewing another batch today, since somebody drank the last eight casks. I think I'll try 75g/firkin this time, across the board.

In Anticipation of Summer

2010-06-10T12:41:00.000-07:00

It's not here yet. Last year at this time there was a bright shiny object up in the sky. Vitamin D was plentiful. Trails were dry. Campgrounds were full. The woods were heaving with happy boots, spokes, fishing poles and small watercraft. But sadly, we've lost our Winter season due to lack of snow and now our Spring and Summer has been delayed for six weeks due to a surfeit of precipitation. Nevertheless, in anticipation of the outdoor patio saturated with satisfied punters, I now have three session beers on the pumps, and will be brewing another probably this weekend. 20 oz. pints that are 4% and under usually sell for $4.50 here.

Currently pouring:

Cwrw Bach, a Welsh Mild, ABV 3.6%

Black Wooly Jumper, a Dry Irish Stout, ABV 3.7%

Bob's Yer Uncle, a Bitter brewed with a Belgian ale yeast, ABV 4.0%

along with the other usual suspects.

Cargo, Revisited

2010-05-26T13:51:00.000-07:00

Another trip to Portland, a month after the last one. Extraordinary. Sometimes it takes a couple of months before I can get away. I have yet another opportunity to revisit last month's fantasy, but I suspect I'll just forge ahead and do The Right Thing (tm) and deliver the goods as promised. This time I'm off to a Meet-the-Brewer event at the Green Dragon that I was talked into against my better judgment, and then another cask over to the friendly folks at Belmont Station.

I hope Portland is ready for this stuff. It's plain, ordinary, mundane session beer. Nothing ridiculous, over-hopped, mega-gravity or imbued with lynx droppings. Nothing aged in one of Leo Kottke's old Taylor 12-strings for eight months. No exotic herbs flown in from Ouagadougou. No cold-filtration through artisan-designed glassware embracing dust from the tombs of the Pharaohs. These ales were designed for quaffing. Six pints (UK) in a long evening session would be typical. Get ready for a nice easy session Porter that uses, get this, chocolate and crystal malts. And don your sensible, sturdy pub trousers for a malty special bitter. And buckle your seatbelts, because I also have a 3.6% mild that uses a dash of peated malt. This last tipple is a pilot batch for a Welsh Mild that didn't come out quite as malty as I'd like, underscoring the difficulty in producing flavorful sub-4% ales. I'll be revisiting it this summer with some tweeks. Try a pint on Thursday and tell me (really) what you'd do to make it better.

This blog entry is brought to you by snacks, snifters and samples (thanks Steve) at Block 15. Lessee: a Chipotle Chocolate Stout, Hoppy Session Red, Super Aboriginale freestyle and the Ferme de La Villa Saison. These guys are monsters. Additionally, I'm here to swap off some Brewers Union casks for some B-15 casks. In about two weeks "This Time For Sure" might be on the B-15 pumps, and we'll be dispensing some of the Corvallis gold.

The Odd Firkin Out

2010-05-21T16:06:00.001-07:00

That last cask in the lineup was just filled with an ale destined for the 2010 Great British Beer Festival in August. How is this happening? It's the Champion Draught Beer competition at the Bieres sans Frontieres International Beer Bar. I could care less about any competition, but am excited that some of our molecules will be traveling so far. Shame I can't go with them, although I've become somewhat less a fan of the large festivals these days. Unless one of you wants to buy my plane ticket.

Cwrw Bach

2010-05-11T10:04:00.000-07:00

Small beer. The first cask of the Welsh Mild hit the pumps on Saturday. I had some folks in here this weekend delighted by the fact that they could hang out with their kids for five hours, have some fantastic homecooked food, and drink more than two pints of ale - the typical limit with the high ABV frenzy that seems to permeate the Pac NW Beerosphere.

I wasn't sure how this batch would turn out. The recipe, like many others that appear here, was scratched out and rewritten a few times on a couple sheets of scrap paper. I wanted to use a peated malt, Simpsons from the UK, but not overpower the aroma. The result was 1 lb. of peated malt in a total grain bill of 151 lbs. This is a powerful malt - caveat emptor.

I'm liking it so far, but would like to make a few changes and run it again. I think the Carafa III could be upped a few pounds and the 1/2 Kilo of E.K. Goldings could be dropped back to half that. All in all, a decent tipple. As I mentioned before, I think it would've been nice along with the morel dish that we had on the last week, but alas they have been consumed. Alternatively, there is the Scottish Fish Pie or the New York Strip Steaks as an option. See you at the pub.

Free Publicity

2010-05-06T13:04:00.001-07:00

As a wee little company, in a remote part of Oregon, in a recession, with less than two years since the doors opened, advertising is very expensive. I just simply can't afford it. The goal has always been to not have to, so we don't. Initially I used the local rag, and put a few ads in Beer NW magazine (server was down when I wrote this). Now I'm finding that I don't have to. Word of mouth seems to be starting to yield new visitors; can't beat that. More interestingly is the free publicity that has come about in the last few months.

First of all, we made the cut to be included in the National Geographic Geotourism MapGuide for the Central Cascades region that came out late Winter. Right there, on the downloadable pdf file, is the magical mention of the pub. Perhaps we won't get that much traffic from it, but the NG sure does churn out a snappy map.

Then the pub appeared in the May/June issue of Imbibe Magazine. For free!

Most recently, National Public Radio appeared in Oakridge to do a story on the town's efforts to reinvent itself. The radio show is called State of the Re:Union, and they have been traveling the country looking for stories. And found Oakridge, can you believe it. It was fun having the talented folks around for a week, and they captured the beautiful sound of real ale being liberated into a proper pint glass. The entire broadcast can be streamed or downloaded.

Keeping Up To Date

2010-05-05T13:05:00.000-07:00

I suppose all you Big Guy Breweries (tm) have time to keep up with your websites, what with having actual staff and all, but I find that just maintaining a list of beers gets missed more often than not. I was just finishing up doing the weekly beer line cleaning routine when I thought I might check to see when the last time I updated the beer list was. April 8, or something like that. Anyway, I have just posted the New Lineup (tm) as all the other jobs and stacks of paper on my desk vying for my attention looked quite dull in comparison. As you can see, the ABV's are dropping into more sessionable Summer standards. By this weekend it should have changed again, what with bringing on the Welsh Mild and rotating another guest beer or two into the works.

Of Mushrooms and Mild

2010-05-04T10:11:00.001-07:00

We got another mushroom delivery this weekend; a pub exclusive. The first harvest of morels has made its home in our cooler, and they're beautiful. All you denizens of the Valley (and that means you as well, Portland) within access of poncy restaurants will have to go without, as we snagged the entire yield. Chef has created Creamy Herb and Fresh Wild Morel in a Pastry Bowl, one of several delicious options on the Specials Board. Don't expect it to be there long. He who hesitates is lost, as my Mom used to say.

Also, as May is Mild Month in Britain, I've brewed the first of this season's session beers, a Welsh Mild. I've never tried this style before. I was trying to recall some of the attributes of the ales I had in Wales way back in 1991, and have faint recollections of a dark and slightly smoky/peaty beverage lounging on the inside of my pint glass. For this batch, I made up a recipe that uses some Carafa III and a dash of a peated malt from Simpsons Malting in the UK. This is dangerous stuff - a little bit goes a long way. Casking up day was Saturday, in which I got to have a taste. It wasn't bad at all, but it's hard to tell what the full maturation and conditioning will be like. ABV clocked out at 3.6%. First cask will be breached on Saturday. I have a sneaking suspicion that it will be a perfect complement to some morels. See you at the pub.

Post Fest Post

2010-04-25T18:27:00.000-07:00

A week has gone by. Turns out I didn't abscond with the beer as fantasized about in previous post, foregoing the inherent entertainment value therein, and went on my appointed rounds as, well, appointed. After spending four days in Portland, thoughts worthy of blog potential were rattling around the slowly decaying cortex. Now all the edges have worn off and I'm trying to at least put something together worthy of the kind of mediocrity that comes about at the end of a long day.

I have some observations. Yes, I do. And so had a number of other bloggers. I read you all. Now it's my turn. Observation Number One is, how have we become so fussy? Are we all that spoiled? I mean, it's one thing to point out the fly in the soup, or the pint of vinegar, but there were some really nice tipples at the Firkin Fest. Twenty years ago, were we to run across such a lineup, we'd be swooning and mooning and crooning the delights. Granted, for a festival devoted to cask ales, it is odd to have half of them be IPA's, but, ladies and gentlemen, wasn't the experience worth the cash and the time. One cask was cloudy with yeast, and another had a hint of sulphur in the nose, but all were drinkable and pleasant. Regarding the sulphur aroma, from an organic mild (YES!) from HUB, I had no problem with this, but I'm probably one of the few in the vicinity that has enjoyed some nice Burton-oriented ales in the UK. And I got dinged for not bringing up a session beer, unlike last year where I got dinged for bringing up a session beer. I'm still trying to figure that one out.

Observation Number Two: I like the East side of the river over the West side. I thought it would be fun to just spend my last evening in town walking around the city from my motel near PSU. A bit too noisy and poncy for me. A better plan would've been to park on the small numbers of Belmont, or Fremont, and just walk through the little neighborhoods all night.

Observation Number Three: I managed to survive a Meet-The-Brewer event at Belmont Station. This is perhaps due to being able to lurk unobtrusively in a corner. I was satisfied to see the cask of This Time For Sure drain in a couple of hours. The Green Dragon has also talked me into a similar event at the end of May, mainly by plying me with ale and assuring me that I wouldn't have to give a speech.

Observation Number Four: I really like cheese. Managed to snag my share from the cheese guy.

Observation Number Five: Knowledge or real ale is dismal in this state. Don't ask me again if I'm using a nitro tap.

That's all. Just finishing a heat transfer of a Welsh Mild and enjoying a pint. See you at the pub.

Cargo

2010-04-15T12:22:00.000-07:00

I can't remember if it was Steven Wright or Gallagher who posed the question, "Why does cargo go by boat, and shipment go by plane?" Regardless, I have a car, specifically a 1993 JEEP Grand Cherokee with broken overdrive clocking in at 257,000 miles, with five firkins of fine West Coast cask ale and three beer engines, along with all the other bits and pieces necessary to make it work such as rubber mallets, ice quilts and jackets. This is true and valuable cargo. Two of the casks are mine; the other three belong to the Eugene City Brewery (Rogue), Oakshire, and Block 15. I have spent the last month or so cultivating the myth that I will be taking their scrummy product to the 3rd Annual Firkin Fest at the Green Dragon in Portland, and that I can be trusted to treat them with the utmost care that they are due. Little do they know that I have a campsite out in the woods, a guitar, a stack of good books, a crate of Cheetos and a cooler full of frozen pizzas.

Not a particularly realistic scenario, as even I can't drink that much cask ale in four days.

So my second choice is to actually drive up to Portland and spend four days NOT AT THE PUB, if you can imagine such a thing, working with real and faux real ale, schmoozing, visiting pubs in YOUR neighborhood, and trying to catch up on what needs to be done. The latter hopefully involves tinkering with my blogging and working on a menu revision for our wee community public house. I have great expectations. I may even have an original thought.

As for blogging, you're reading it. I'm sitting at Block 15 right now having a pint of Alpha IPA on cask and a very nice cilantro and pepper oriented Southwest Salad. I'm also thinking about how I'm not really a businessman and about how I need to get out more often. This is all a good thing. I sometimes forget who I am, and am often reminded by friendly patrons that I'm looking a little harried, with bouts of pale and wan.

These next four days should be a lot of fun, if I can let it sink in that I'm not working but yet am working. I have one of the remaining casks of the KLCC collabrewation beer with me to display at the Firkin Fest, for all of you who are too lazy to drive down to Oakridge for a sample. This is that mutant Belgian Cascadian Dark Rye that I've blogged about previously. I had intended to bring a session ale, but this stuff is just so good that I had to bring it. The other casks mentioned above in my fanciful episode of improbability are under my care, and I am hoping that the Green Dragon will allow me to have enough free reign to see them handled with the delicacy that they deserve. Three of them are fined, and I will be setting them up with pumps and handling the tapping and venting tomorrow.

Another little venture this trip is a rare and probably unique Meet The Brewer event at the Belmont Station. I've been avoiding these things - philosophical issues and so forth, but Carl has been trying to talk me into it for over a year. I will be up there Friday night from 6:00 to 8:00, and have a cask of "This Time For Sure", a hoppy pale ale that wrangles with subtleties of not trying to overdo the hop bit at cellar temperature.

See ya at someone else's pub.

Small Customs

2010-03-27T14:13:00.000-07:00

I was going to comment on the [drinkability?] [quaffableness?] [sessionability?] of the latest session beer offering on the pumps, "Bob's Yer Uncle", weighing out at 4.0% ABV and tasting like the brewer mixed a Belgian yeast harvested from a previous batch of weirdness with a bitter ale recipe. But this is not a blog about beer, it is a blog about how publicans from different parts of the world, say, Britain and Oregon, set stuff up in the pub.

This is a thin topic; there's not a lot of meat here, but I've discovered that I annoy my staff by putting beer mats, or coasters are they are also called, directly in front of the seats. Why? Because that's not only the way I tended to find them in British and Irish pubs, but the way I was instructed to while I was working there.

Beer Mats at the Old Dungeon Ghyll in Cumbria

They are sorta like seat markers in my mind. Now, the argument here is that the punters have to move them when they sit down. My response is, "So." I'm fine with that. My pub and all. Not like it really matters. But does it? When I'm fronting the house I put them at the seats, not in the middle of the table. And I have to wonder how it started this way. I have made an informal study of the public house since 1991, the first time I ventured to the UK, and I am fascinated by the differences in habits. If I were to sum it up, and that's just what I'm about to do, I've discovered that the British and Irish pub denizens head to the pub to have a few rounds and socialize. The pint gets directed to the top of the beer mat. Here in the U.S. of A., most are looking for a restaurant and want to eat and move on to the next thing. The beer mat is shoved to the center of the table. Silly Americans; can't they just enjoy a nice evening session.

The other annoying thing I like to do is put little tick marks next to the special offerings on the specials board behind the bar. Helps me keep track of how many of the goodies are left. I've been told this negatively influences the patrons' decisions about choice, but we seem to go through the specials anyway. Go figure.

Fusion

2010-03-13T12:36:00.000-08:00

Remember the old Reese's Peanut Butter Cup commercials? Where the serendipitous collision of chocolate and peanut butter resulted in a scrummy treat? Similar things are happening in the brewery right now, except that neither chocolate nor peanut butter are involved. Come to think of it, the serendipity has been found wanting as well. I guess there's not much similarity after all, but it makes for a smashing opening paragraph.

My point, though, is that we nano (femto? atto?) breweries can do what we want, eschewing tradition and style and habit. Sacks of remnant grains, baggies of stray hops, and jars of harvested yeast can be combined in a waste-not-want-not manner. As we've been without a session beer on the pumps for a while, and I'm not proud of this, I really needed to make something quaffable in the low ABV range. Except for the fact that I had a six month old cask of Rye Mild that had been languishing in the cellar for six months and is now being served, a nice best bitter was in order. The recipe for a previous one-off batch of "Good With Bacon" was to be the starting point. First of all, out with the Sorachi Ace and in with a pound of U.K. Challenger that I'd picked up at the local homebrew shop. I like the spiciness of this hop, and hope to use it more in the future for some of my bitters. Then the total grain bill was reduced a bit to try to target the 3.5% to 4% range.

And then the totally cunning plan was devised. Why not pitch in the half-gallon mason jar of Ardennes/Nottingham yeast blend that I'd harvested from the KLCC Collabrewation Brew batch? No reason I could think of. This is a second generation harvest, G0 coming from Oakshire and G1 off our "Because We Can". I was aware that this yeast likes a warmer fermentation temperature, so I did a heat transfer to target 24˚C. Fermentation started off within 24 hours, and it sprinted along at 23 to 24˚C for three days.

The problem now is that I have a bitter ale recipe with a blended Belgian/English yeast. What to call it? As I generally eschew style nerdiness and meticulous adherence to the BJCP, I am going to call it a Belgian Bitter. It will be named "Bob's Yer Uncle", not only because it came to me the other day out of the blue, but because the alliteration of "Bob's Yer Uncle Belgian Bitter" rolls off the tongue nicely and creates the anticipation of many days working behind the bar talking about it. Casking up day is tomorrow, and I hope to have it on the pumps a little over a week later. See you at the pub.

Odds and Suds

2010-03-10T11:34:00.001-08:00

Late Wednesday morning. Just finished cleaning the cask beer lines. The weekend lineup is looking good. Same with the cold fizzy stuff. On cask is a rye mild, a rye special bitter, a hoppy pale liquidy sustenance beverage, the Ridgeback Red from Block 15, cask 6 (of 8) of the Belgian Cascadian Dark Rye gustatory delight, and the tail end of the last cask of the big Winter stout. As I write this, I just noticed the preponderance of rye brews. Go figure. I also pinched a cask of Aboriginale from Block 15 which will replace the Red as part of our ongoing cask swap program.

I managed to snag a keg of "Duck Billed Platypus" from Oakshire yesterday while I was in Eugene doing the purchasing. Had a very nice chat with Jeff Althouse, who is always a real treat to spend time with in his brewery office where some of the more mundane activities in the business are realized. As I continually wrestle with the onerous task of keeping this quirky little brewery and pub afloat, it is nice to hear stories from a friendly brewery, with a completely different business model than our own, that has to deal with similar issues such as IRS levies, negative cash flow, staffing, consumer opinion, and a funky economy, amongst other trifles. For those of you who don't know, D.B.P. is Oakshire's translation of the 2010 KLCC Collabrewation Beer. Starting today we will have their kegged version and our casked version on simultaneously.

The rest of the guests are top notch, as can be attested by the expression on Happy Moose and Sloth Bear housed on the coffin box. There's snow in them thar hills, and all you locals who appreciate good music and those of you passing through, whether from the slopes or otherwise, will be duly entertained by the genius of Peter Wilde, who will be playing here this Saturday night along with Danny Shafer. This is indeed a rare treat. See you at the pub.

So Ya Wanna Run a Pub, Revisited

2010-03-03T23:21:00.000-08:00

I've been uncharacteristically absent out here in the blog-o-thingy. Not due to lack of material, I can assure you. I have a head full of commentary and no time to scratch it down - a Locomotive Breath sequence of days that all end in 'ay', but without the distinctions that used to separate them into such lofty categories as "Weekends", "Weekdays" or "Time Off". But fear not, oh weary soldier. Divine Wisdom's providence has furnished me with a day of escape, as the amount of time that has elapsed between now, The Present, and when I had a single 24 hour period alone, all alone, by myself has exceeded six months. So I'm coming to Portland for a night of Fridays, and look out, I'm gonna sit in a bunch of your establishments and lurk. Just lurk. And study - oh, yes, study. Scrutinize, dare I say, to see what all the hype is about. And take notes that might end up in blog entries that originate in exciting yet overlooked rural Oregon communities. I better find myself a decent pint of session beer; where can I get some mild this time of year? And I want some haggis - the best your house can provide. With whisky and rashers for breakfast, no less, like I enjoyed one morning on the Isle of Arran. And none of this cold and fizzy swill that numbs the buds and assaults the gums and teeth. And some atmosphere. And maybe a wee dram of erudite conversation.

Actually, I'll more likely just sit in a corner of the Highland Stillhouse and work on my script or read a book. It will still be fun and well earned. And when I get back, I get to brew something interesting on Sunday using the yeast I harvested from the KLCC Collabrewation Beer. I'm not sure what that will be yet.

What Could Go Wrong?

2010-02-10T09:39:00.000-08:00

It's Wednesday morning, and the piece of paper taped to the wall above my desk says "Note to Publican - Clean Lines". So that's what I'm doing. A good day for it, though, as we are putting on some new beers and trying to squeeze in cask 7 of Tanninbomb, which is reaching five months of age. The scheduling at the pumps can be non-trivial at times. I had hoped to have three new and interesting casks on for today, Wednesday, but had a busy weekend and had to shuffle in another cask of Union Dew that got drained rapidly and unexpectedly.

"Because We Can", the 2010 KLCC Microbrew Festival Collabrewation Beer, had some issues. I wrote about it in the early stages, but there had been some worry lines on the brewer's forehead and a slight quickening of blood pressure for a few days in the process. In short, it got "stuck" in the fermenter. The yeast was from a quart jar of the Belgian WY3522 Ardennes that was harvested from Oakshire, and hindsight now strongly suggests that I underpitched. It took a week to go from 1.068 to 1.053, and then it just sat there, despondent and uncaring. My solution was to mix up a quick starter of Nottingham and give it a pitch. Two days later it was happily humming along. At 1.015 I shut it down and then casked it up a few days later. A very difficult yeast to handle, and hard to interpret as for when to stop the fermentation. The skin remained a solid brown crust, unlike the dry English strains that break up into foamy islands. Someday, as I begin to use more strains of yeast, I should post here a study of krausen. How geeky is that?

Last night I completed the venting and tapping. It remained a bit on the lively side for a day, and I had to keep checking it every couple of hours. The first draw from the tap was declared delicious. So was the second. And so forth... And so on... I do believe that the Nottingham dried it out a bit, as I had heard that the Ardennes can (if one is not careful) produce overly malty beers. The estery Belgian quality is still there, though, in the nose as well as the palette. I had hoped that more of the Sterling and Ahtanum hops would come out from the dry hopping, but we'll see what happens as it continues to mature.

The lines are just about clean now. All six pumps will be pouring, in anticipation of a festival weekend and hopefully a steady influx of skiers and other outdoor types, eager to tuck into a unique lineup of cask and keg beers. We'll be pouring:

Something Light - Session Bitter - ABV 4.1%

Baba O'Rye'ly - D'Rye Hopped Rye Special Bitter - ABV 5.2%

Union Dew - I.P.A. - ABV 6.1%

Because We Can - Belgian Cascadian Dark - ABV 6.8%

Reporter (Block 15) - Brown Porter - ABV 5.5%

Frost on the Bumpkin - 7-Grain Winter Stout - ABV 6.6%

Tanninbomb is ready to go on when the Reporter goes off (it's close), but can be gravity dispensed if you are desperate.

Tomorrow I load up the aging, decrepit JEEP for the festival, where the weirdo Belgian Cascadian tipple can be compared with 10 other local breweries. See you at the pub. And the festival.

An Historical Moment

2010-02-05T17:02:00.000-08:00

Or is that "A" Historical Moment? There appears to be a hole in my grammar knowledge.

I had reported earlier that Block 15 in Corvallis has installed a beer engine and the related bits and pieces down in the cellar and has started producing real cask ale. I had delivered four of our casks up there a few weeks ago, and yesterday was my chance to retrieve some of those casks filled with Block 15 ale. Three of the four came back with me, one of which was ready for stillage.

The cask of Reporter went on stillage in the afternoon. And in the evening my frontside was bathed in the eruption produced by the introduction of the spile into the shive. This little problem was mitigated by an overnight venting, and all was well by noon today.

I'm excited, for the first time that I know of in the history of modern brewing in Oregon, that a successful cask swap has been completed, and the Brewers Union beer engine array now has a guest cask, drawn as shown by the capable hands of Ben the Extraordinary Barkeep. I'm not much of a brown ale fan, but this batch is tasty, with suggestions that someone has thrown some smoked malt into the bargain. I hope Block 15 doesn't mind me designing a pump clip for their beer. See you at the pub.

On the Map

2010-01-20T11:03:00.000-08:00

The National Geographic Central Cascades Geotourism MapGuide was released yesterday. We are honored to be included on the map and the website. What more can I say? See you at the pub.

Collaboration

2010-01-18T10:43:00.000-08:00

The 2010 KLCC collaboration brew was brewed on Saturday. An interesting project for myself, as the recipe required three grains, three strains of hops, and a yeast that I've never used before. The ratios of the grains were predetermined, but the hop drops were up to each brewery. This is billed as a Belgian Cascadian Dark Rye Ale, and I was so glad the the brewers avoided the tragedy of calling it a Dark IPA.

The sparge progressed rather slowly, I suspect due to the presence of the rye and the dark munich. They seemed to shatter to a higher degree in the mill than the other grains. I don't have the luxury of being able to adjust the fineness of the grind for the different grains; the mill is set right where I want it for the bulk of what I brew and I'm afraid to tweek it.

The yeast is another matter. It is the WY3522 Ardennes yeast, a Belgian strain, that I harvested off the bottom of one of the conicals at Oakshire. While I collected a full quart jar, by the time it chilled and settled here at the brewery it had packed down into less than a pint. This gave me no small concern as to the risk of underpitching. Too late to fetch more, though. Its behavior was unlike the usual dry British strains that I use, so I'm having to use observation and the nose to determine as best I can as to how things are going. I thought it had a slow start. Right now, Monday morning, it has a nice brown crust and the aroma is starting to develop. The krausen is not real thick and foamy, but maybe this is just the way it behaves. There is not a whole lot I can do about it, though. I'm expecting to hold the temperature a little warmer towards the end so as to mitigate the likelihood of diacetyls due to the potential of having underpitched. Geeky stuff, eh? More to come.

If this turns out alright, it is possibly the first ever cask-conditioned Belgian Cascadian Dark Rye ale ever produced in a commercial brewery. Who knows.

Cask Swap

2010-01-13T14:26:00.001-08:00

The Block15 brewpub in Corvallis is now serving real ale. Rapidly, it seems, as I received an email from them last week that they were about to run out, and as I brew the stuff, I was asked if I could spare a firkin or five.

Yesterday I loaded up the battered old Jeep and brought them four casks. It was nice the see the setup in the cellar, and have a draw of a lovely brown ale. Probably today or tomorrow there will be a Brewers Union cask pulling through the Angram. Soon I expect to receive some Block15 real ale for the first ever guest casks at the pub.

2010-01-01T16:39:00.000-08:00

New Years Day. It's been a while since I've been on here, not due to the lack of material, but rather a side effect of the quantity of life to live this time of year. This belated entry is brought to you by a bottle of Hardknott Brewery ale that has traveled 8 time zones in a customer's luggage. Cheers! I'm almost tempted to do a video review, in which I might mention its liveliness.

It's a quiet day here in the pub. This effect is achieved by being shut. After getting out of the pub after 3:00 AM last night (this morning) I managed to sleep until 11:00 AM. That was a long day, including a great evening party of music and happy peeps. Another 45 minutes of lounging was required to convince myself that it was to be a brew day, being that my usual weekend brewing days were to be otherwise occupied this weekend. I didn't want to move. I knew everyone else would likely be avoiding work, perhaps engaging in some form of recreation or watching some silly Rose Bowl thingy. Motivation to leave the comfort of home and drive to the brewery came reluctantly. It's taken half a day for me to realize the privilege I have of spending a day in my own brewery, doing what I like to do. A line from Billy Bragg's "The Short Answer" comes to mind, and if you correctly mention it to me at the pub then there's a pint in one of the pumps with your name on it.

(The "Final Frontier" in the bottle has a bit of a spicy quality to it. I'm sure Woolpack Dave, who is out there somewhere, will divulge the hop that is causing that).

So far I avoided the widespread practice of doing a Poll or Best Of or some sort of Resolution on this blog. Not going to happen; my regard for patterns of numerical significance on the calendar is minimal. Nearly every day there is some sort of personal or business widget that needs tweaking. There is some good stuff coming up on the short term horizon, though. In the very, very, very short term, there is a batch of Union Dew undergoing heat exchange in the brewery right now, giving me time to write this entry. The next batch after this is going to be interesting; this year I get to be involved in the local Collaboration Beer. Around a dozen local breweries are brewing the same beer. Mostly. The relative percentages in the grain bill is determined. The yeast is a WY3522 Ardennes, which I will be harvesting from Oakshire in the next couple of weeks. The three hops have been named, but the timing and quantity of the drops are up to the brewery. For me, never having had formal training or time spent in a large brewery, I'm given the challenge of working with three hops, a strain of yeast, and three types of grain that I've never used before. Needless to say, the nourishing liquid that we release will be the only cask-conditioned offering to be sampled at the KLCC Microbrew Festival in February.

In the longer term, we will be continuing to refine the menu, adding a larger and more diverse list of daily specials. Some new experimental ales are also on the horizon, and I'm hoping to acquire some more firkins this summer when hopefully the cash flow issues might ease, as I would like to do more aging with wood.

See you at the pub. All six engines are deployed, but I think the Tanninbomb cask's days are numbered.

Reminders

2009-12-08T14:53:00.000-08:00

I had started this post a couple of days ago, when events were at their freshest in my slowly decaying cortex. Now that it's no longer a couple of days ago, and being in the here and the now, I totally erased the original text. I had to think about it some more, as the random notion that a bit of introspection might be useful and constructive comes fleeting by all too infrequently. I have a few moments between running errands in Eugene and driving a wagonload of goods, so why not pop by High Street Cafe, my Eugene local, to have a pint or two and get this post sorted out.

Running a pub is a silly business. It's a one-sided marriage to a building, a mostly-organized collection of property contained within, and a handful of people rummaging about trying to bring a pleasant experience all around to what one hopes is more than a mere handful of other people. Even with being closed on Tuesdays for the Winter, there is still plenty to occupy the time. Some days I just have to be there to wait for the distributors to show up. Others are spent at the bar, or in the brewery. Today I had hoped to tackle the paperwork on the desk, the late duty report to the TTB, and the messy brew kettle from Sunday's brewday. Instead I'm in Eugene doing the stock run and other errands. This is really a job for Chef, but as he doesn't have a car yet I'm fine with doing it. Once in a while. Then I catch myself starting to grumble. About having to work every day. About the stress. About the negative bank account. About trying to keep the staffing just right, and making sure the menu stays interesting, and worrying about where the money is going to come from to pay the DHS for my restaurant certificate and OTIC for keeping the shiny blue and white signs on the highway. Oh, and the mortgage company was curious why they hadn't received my mortgage payment yet.

(Insert moment of introspection here)

I used to be a highly paid software engineer. After almost 30 years of endeavoring to bend silicon to my will, I gave it up at the end of 2004. Figuring out that I would have a go at diving into the pub and brewery business, for real, started less than two years later. It's been non-stop ever since. I think there are three types of people who go into this job: those that don't know what they're getting into, those that theoretically know what there getting into, and those that know full-blown experientially what they're getting into and do it anyway because they are crazy in a nice sort of way. I think I can safely say that I started out in the middle, having made sure that I would have the opportunity to immerse myself in the environment to see what goes on under the hood. Valuable time was spent at the Woolpack Inn in Cumbria doing just that. And then you plop yourself down in your own pub and the warp drive kicks in. When your signature is the one that the bank expects on the checks, then you notice yourself being drawn into the third category, and then things can get gloomy. Without introspection. And reminders.

I found myself seeking out John Gorka's "Land of the Bottom Line" off my iPhone in the car today. A favorite of mine, and a good reminder. Freedom, or rather, an exchange of freedoms. Today I had the freedom of choosing what I was going to do, and when I was going to do it, within the certain constraints of business, family, community theater obligations, store hours and that late night hour or two of World of Warcraft so I can get that nice new piece of PvE gear. I can see the purpose behind what I'm doing. It's satisfying in a non-monetary sort of way. The original post, the one that I erased, was about the fun and fantastic night we had Saturday night. Norm, Kelly T, Erika and Kip put on a great house gig. I wanted to get that reminder back in this post, because that's what had set it off in the first place. I sat there in the back of the pub that night, on a stool with a pint of cask-conditioned Tanninbomb (from a brewery in Oakridge, Oregon, can you believe it?), and watched the magic that makes a pub a pub. That's a good enough shot in the arm to keep it up for another week or two.

F.A.Q. #1: Distribution

2009-11-28T11:32:00.000-08:00

After being open more than 15 months, we get asked a lot of questions. As I work my own bar at least 20 hours a week, I have gathered my own collection of mental notes. I will likely be writing about some of the questions that get asked the most over the next couple of weeks.

A couple months ago the friendly guys from The Eastburn in Portland popped by on a quiet afternoon. Not more than a couple of words in, I was asked if they could buy a keg to take back up to Portland. I would wager that most breweries and brewpubs in Oregon are equipped to do this. Not so with us. First of all, with a few rare exceptions, we don't do any kegging. Our brew length is 8 firkins or 2 UK BBL. This translates into around 90 US gallons. There have been a couple of instances where there was enough ale left in the bottom of the fermenter to draw off into a corny keg, which holds five gallons, providing an interesting demonstration of the difference between a kegged and a casked version of the same ale. But, for the overwhelming amount of the volume produced, a pub interested in handling our ale would have to know how to handle a firkin.

Now, I know that there are a small number of establishments in Oregon that advertise cask conditioned beer. I also know that what they are in truth handling are kegs, likely Sankeys, to which they affix a beer engine. The contents of the kegs are dubiously named cask-conditioned beer, which in many cases simply contain ale destined for keg that has been drawn off from the fermenter and primed in the cask (keg). Handling a firkin is different. The requirements are: stillage, preferably with an auto-tilt; proper temperature control; sundries such as spiles and the right kind of taps for hammering into a keystone; and, very importantly, someone who knows how to handle all these things. So far, despite extensive research, I have only found a handful of places that can handle this. I have high hopes for Block 15, as they soon will be handling real ale in such a way that I would feel comfortable doing cask swaps.

Another important reason for not distributing is simple economics. Even if a pub were to be equipped with all the trappings and knowledge for handling real ale, there is still the problem of (as we are a business) making any money off of selling them a cask. A firkin nominally holds 72 20 oz. pints. In reality we might get 68 or so. Multiply this by the $4.50 to $5.50 we sell a pint for over the bar. For the sake of argument, let's just say that I can gross $350 for a cask. Not counting the brewer's labor, because we don't pay him, the cost of goods sold is around 10% to 20% of the gross. Now, if you, the pub or bar owner, wanted to purchase a cask, you would want to pay in the wholesale range. Kegs, 15.5 US gallons, go for $130 to $140, generally speaking. A firkin contains 10.8 US gallons, or around 2/3 the volume of a keg, so you would want to pay around $90. I could argue for the premium nature of our beer, given it's rarity and the fact that we brew small batches. I did manage to get $150 for the two casks I brought up to the Firkin Fest last year, but I guess that that would be an exception. So, it's easy to see that selling a pint over our own bar is the way to go. We can make sure that it is well kept while at the same time keeping the doors open and the lights on.

Another nice reason for not distributing is that we can stay in control of the delicate liquid. Yesterday I put on the first cask of Tanninbomb, my oak-aged old ale. I like having the confidence that the beer will be handled properly and described and discussed by our own staff. I suggest you pry yourself out of your house and come down for a pint. See you at the pub.

Frost on the Bumpkin

2009-11-20T12:46:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I posted that a one-off winter stout is headed for the pumps. I couldn't resist trying it last night, and decided that it was ready to serve. It's deliciously malty and smooth, with a hint of rye. I believe at least a dozen pints have been liberated already.

Winter Lineup

2009-11-19T08:35:00.000-08:00

The frost is now firmly affixed to the pumpkin, and so in the next few days I will be taking a crack at the first firkin of "Frost on the Bumpkin". As I sit here at the Trailhead Coffeehouse over a cup of rocket fuel, I'm succumbing to the temptation to at least vent the monster. After all, it's been on stillage for almost 24 hours now, having spent almost two weeks in the cask. A mallet and a spile stands between me and that nice little puff of trapped gas that portends a nicely conditioned ale. This is the first of my winter ales, unless you want to count "Schrodinger's Other Beer", and it is a seven-grain stout with a casked ABV of 6.6%. HUB had produced a seven-grain stout, and I found to my surprise that I had accidently done the same. What are the odds that we are using exactly the same seven grains in exactly the same proportions? (The exercise of calculating the aforementioned odds left to the reader).

The remnants of the fermenter, after casking Mr. Bumpkin, have already been used by Chef, who has been experimenting with our beers in both fresh and slop bucket form. Garlic and green stout makes a nice rub for steaks and roasts. I recently enjoyed a toasted, ale-caramelized garlic and cheddar sandwich, heavy on the garlic.

After Thanksgiving the first firkin of "Tanninbomb" will be on the pumps. I brewed this last year, and tweaked it again for this season. It will have gone almost three months in the cellar with a couple ounces of oak chips in each cask. I'm not much for fussing over beer styles, but I'm calling this an old ale. ABV is 6.8%.

To complete the upcoming lineup, I have the last cask of "Schrodinger's Beer" (not his Other beer) that I've been holding onto so that the fellow that helped me brew it can give it a go. Supposedly he will be up visiting Thanksgiving weekend.

So, on or around Friday, the 27th, I should have:

One or the other of my session bitters "Something Light" (4.1%) or "Good With Bacon" (4.4%)

Union Dew, IPA, 6.2%

Schrodinger's Beer, West Coast IPA, 5.8%

Schrodinger's Other Beer, West Coast IPA, 6.5%

Frost on the Bumpkin, Stout, 6.6%

Tanninbomb, Oak-aged Old Ale, 6.8%

It's rather unusual to have three IPA's, or so many ales over 5%, but stranger things have happened. I'm planning on brewing a malty sub-5% ale next time I can gather together eight empty firkins, which I'll be needing help with. So come on down, do some skiing, and have a pint or two. See you at the pub.

Heat Exchange

2009-11-17T16:34:00.000-08:00

I've just started tinkering with the object in the following picture. It's a plate heat exchanger that was dropped off here on Friday from the friendly folks at Block 15 in Corvallis. They had come up for some solid and liquid provender, and to pick up their 2-cask auto-tilt rack that I ordered for them from England.

As they weren't using this piece of equipment, I'm going to see if I can adapt it as a replacement for the quirky and inefficient, handmade counterflow unit that I had acquired with my brewing equipment. It's been having issues lately, and it has been difficult to get through a batch of beer without blowing a hose clamp. Age does that to things. And people. It has been a real trooper, though, despite it's homely demeanor, as 48 2 UK BBL batches have been pumped through it in the last 16 months.

The puzzle that now faces me is to figure out just exactly what the fittings are on this thing. I certainly didn't recognize them, and neither did our resident knowledge-monger Ben. I was thinking a nice set of Tri Clovers would have been dandy, but alas, wishful thinking is just that. So, today, since I had to go to Eugene anyway (and it's been about three weeks since the last time - my, how times have changed), I thought I'd take it by a couple of plumbing and fitting shops. Same reaction - much scratching of heads and rummaging through catalogs. One shop took a picture and sent it off to some fitting manufacturer in Pennsylvania, so maybe I'll get a friendly and informative email in the next couple of days.

As an additional note, Block 15 will soon be serving genuine cask conditioned ale from an Angram mounted to the end of the bar. I eagerly look forward to cask swaps.

Logistics

2009-11-06T10:46:00.000-08:00

Scattered between the brewery, the cellar and the point of dispense (we'll call it "the bar") we have:

47 firkins (had 48 but one has a scratched shive hole)

2 fermenters, producing 8 firkins per batch

8 auto-tilts on the stillage in the cellar

6 beer engines

There is also a limited amount of resources available, especially this time of the year, for the purchase of grain, yeast and hops. The trick is to try to keep at least four cask ales on, with the requirements that there be at least one session beer, one dark (porter or stout) and one IPA. Casks need to rest at least a day for the finings to settle, and some of the stronger and/or dry-hopped ales require more time. A session beer can go to stillage in a week after casking, while some of the stronger and/or dry-hopped ales, again, require more time. Thanks to non-return valves and micro-filters on the shive I can get more than a week out of a slow cask. During the summer the problem becomes swapping them out fast enough.

One the other tricky bits is trying to be patient. Tanninbaum is still aging in the cellar until after Thanksgiving (maybe), and that first cask of Schrodinger's Other Beer is playing the siren every time I drift by. I'm determined to wait until Wednesday for that one.

Locally Sourced

2009-10-30T18:58:00.000-07:00

One of the Big Ideas I had when I was planning on opening this place was to local source as much as possible. The reality is that I'm not the guy to be doing this - I'm not a kitchen guy - and our chef at the time didn't seek out the contacts. As of the beginning of the month of October we have a new kitchen guy who is going after the local market. Meet Christian. He's the guy with the handful of mushrooms, picked in some classified location in the Willamette National Forest by agents unknown.

Tonight we are serving some sort of mixed texture sautee that includes Bolitas, White and Yellow Chanterelles, Lobster Mushrooms, Hen in the Woods and Cauliflower Mushrooms. Garlic is also rabidly employed. From what I understand the goodies in the boxes are the pick of the crop, with the seconds going to the fancy restaurants and markets in Eugene. Another reason, along with this pint of cask-conditioned session bitter, to boldly state that "you can only get it here."

Mention in Oregon Business Magazine

2009-10-28T11:38:00.000-07:00

I really wish I could attend more festivals and events and whatnots, but the reality is that we're dirt poor. Not all the time - this summer was really nice, and back bills got paid off. Most of them anyway. Before I started this project, I was told aplenty not to open a brewery in Oakridge, especially one that brews and serves real ale. I still get asked, on a regular basis, why I don't open a pub in Eugene, or Salem, or (of all places) Portland. Maybe I will someday (any investors out there?), but my answer is always that a) I live here and b) every small town needs a pub.

I was recently alerted to an article in Oregon Business Magazine that neatly describes the situation in which we live. We have a goofy economy, times have changed, and to make a living you have to have a vision, a really thick skull, a willingness to work every day for three years or more, and lots of credit cards. No, scratch that last one. Customers help, too, so I've now shifted my thinking towards waiting for the big snows to fall. There's certainly not much going on now up here.

New Release!

2009-10-24T12:28:00.000-07:00

Catchy, huh? Excitement! A new beer is released. I see this all the time on blogs, twitters, tweets, bleats, honks and brewery websites. But what does it mean? What is a release? Last year, a few months after we opened, I notified the Oregon Brewers Guild that I was "releasing" my Christmas ale around Thanksgiving time. And there it was, on the official site for all to see. In the Spring I did the same with my whisky chip extra special bitter. As my new batch of Christmas ale ages back in the cellar, I have been wondering about this new release issue and whether it really applies to this shed brewery and pub up in the mountains and trees.

For one thing, we don't really conform to the standard rules of an American brewpub. Our ale is only available at the pub, there is no bottling, no keg distribution, and no onion rings with ranch. We are located so far from the clusters of humanity that nobody is really going to drive three hours just to have a pint of Tanninbomb. The brewer himself is often the one pulling your pints and cleaning your tables after you've wandered off. And we certainly don't have any money. Someday we'd like to get some T-shirts printed.

Today I'm going to, depending on my opinions of what dribbles out of the first firkin that's been on stillage for the last couple of days, "release" a simple session bitter similar to an American Pale. I think. When I finish this blog entry over coffee I'm off to give it a whirl. I have to hastily work up a pump clip, but that's easy. If satisfied, it will be released. Or not. I don't know. In my mind I'm just putting it on the pumps. It's not like I've "designed" the beer, by any stretch of the imagination. I just knocked off a simple recipe on brew day and now it's available for sale - something to fill the session bitter niche.

A couple weeks ago I "released" a special bitter called Good With Bacon. Or not. It was just not there one day, and the next it was. I was initially unhappy with the outcome, but as the finings continued to struggle with their calling it improved nicely, and is now eminently quaffable. The idea was to make something like Old Speckled Hen, except I didn't have Challenger hops, nor any brewing sugar, and I've been unable to locate a pitchable brick of California Ale Yeast, so I made a few substitutions. It was suggested that I put the word "Amber" in the description, as we get calls for an amber all the time, and this ale just happens to have that color. Isn't that what an amber is?

The current batch, number 11, of Union Dew came out with an ABV of 6.2%, up 0.4% from the last batch. I think this is due to the inaccuracy of the cheepo thermometer I use to measure mash temperature. Is this a new release? Or is it just the same stuff but different, subjected to the whims and vagaries of a primitive, non-push-button, shed brewery?

Or, better yet, how about: "Brewers Union Local 180 Releases Firkin Number 7 of Schrodinger's Beer". It is noticeably better than number 6, as the magical complex chemical reactions continue to work and the dry hops dance about with the joy of creation.

Naww. I'm thinking I'm just not going to announce releases, except here on the blog. This pub is a casual place, and whatever is pouring on any single afternoon might not be exactly the same as what's on in the evening. If I decide to roll on a cask of something new, then you will have to keep vigilant and check on us frequently. So, if you're in the area, stop by and have a pint. We are happy to do tasters.

Tools of the Trade

2009-10-21T11:31:00.000-07:00

It's brew day again. This is an event that requires 8 empty firkins and at least a continuous 9 hour stretch of time that hopefully starts no later than mid morning. The understatement of the day is that ingredients are important too, and I hope I can scrape together $1600 to pay off my last grain bill so I can order more. There is about one batch's worth of Maris Otter in the millhouse at the moment, after milling out 200 lbs of the stuff for today's batch. Today's experiment is another batch of West Coast IPA based on Schrodinger's Beer. This time, instead of using the 14% alpha Sorachi Ace for bittering, I will be substituting something else with a lower alpha but using twice as much. I'm not sure what yet; there is a limited number of choices in the cooler. Us shed brewers operate under a different economy than the Big Boys (tm). As such, I'm also contemplating raising the price of a pint (proper) of this brew to $5.50 to pay for the 7 Kg of hops that will be going into it. I don't think this is unreasonable, as many places already charge this in urban locales that don't have to suffer the higher costs of delivery and the relative paucity of patronage. At least it's not the $6.50 that Pelican (a Big Boy (tm)) charges for a pint of room temperature bitter, with the justification that they operate in an economically and seasonably challenged location. And Rogue? Don't get me going on Rogue.

But this is not a blog about beer - it is a blog about tools. I have directed a few posts in the past to you, yes YOU, the prospective brewer and pub owner. This is another. As you progress your way into this silly business, it would serve you well to know how to handle a vast array of implements of de- and con-struction. A week ago, on brew day, my fancy shed brewery counterflow heat exchanger "blew a gasket". As $2500 in potential profits were being brewed at the time, this needed to be fixed before the end of the boil, so as to chill the wort on the way to the fermenter. There's nothing quite like sweating pipes while 100 gallons of wort boils a yard to the posterior, occasionally burping a gobbet of enthusiastic froth over the side and onto the floor, endangering life and limb.

Postscript: As I'm writing this in the cracks of time afforded during the brewing process, I have since weighed out the bittering hops. I went with Centennial for bittering, using 1.5 Kg instead of the 2.0 I had originally thought necessary. This harvest has an alpha of 8.8%. Total bittering hops weighed out at 3.5 Kg, which is the most I've ever used in a batch here at the brewery. I used the same 2.0 Kg of Glacier to partner with it as I used in the last batch of Schrodinger's.

Last week's repairs are still holding. For Christmas I would like a nice new Big Boy (tm) plate heat exchanger, so please put it on your list.

Mention in the Oregonian

2009-10-10T18:08:00.000-07:00

A former, and future, Oakridge resident has written an article for the Portland Oregonian about Oakridge, including a mention of the pub.

New Hours

2009-10-08T15:03:00.000-07:00

Winter. The Off Season. The Rainy Season. Whatever you want to call it, it's here. This means that the masses hibernate up through the middle of December when the snows lure them into the mountains. This also means that it doesn't make sense to spend $20 to make $10, and so we have cut back the pub hours. It's not too drastic. On Tuesdays we will now be closed. Just plain closed. Not that the work will stop - there's always something to brew, cook, fix, improve, fulfill or complete. On Wednesday and Thursday we are just cutting back the lunch and afternoon. Hopefully this will help us cut costs and keep us open. Margins are tight up here, and I have a forthcoming post on just that topic to dispel all notions to the contrary. See you at the pub.

Schrodinger's Beer

2009-10-07T08:48:00.000-07:00

Cask number 4 is being served. Cask number 5 is settling out on the stillage. Numbers 6, 7 and 8 are in the back cellar. And I still haven't written about Schrodinger's Beer. Many of you may be familiar with the famous thought experiment by physicist Erwin Schrodinger involving the unknown state of a cat in a box subjected to the uncertainty of quantum events. Is the cat dead, alive, or in a putative third state until observed? Same with this beer. It was an experiment. Many of the concoctions coming out of the brewery are.

I've written before about hoppy, high gravity West Coast style IPA's on cask, also referenced from "It's Pub Night", although slightly inaccurately, as I don't question the sanity, per se. I am tempted to use the verb "designed" when talking about how the recipe came about, but that always sounds so much like what the Big Boys do, instead of someone who has never had any formal training in the arts. So, I'll say that I hacked together the recipe, based on my first attempt at a biggie cask IPA over the summer called "Whatever". This batch was deemed too light on the bittering, as if there was a hole in the flavor profile, so I cleverly decided to double the bittering hops. Otherwise, same grain bill and finishing.

A further word about experimentation: Before the pub opened, during the hop crisis, I had very little choice as to what to purchase in the way of hops. As a very small brewery, the cash flow and uncertainty of a new business, especially in a small town in the woods, makes it unfeasible to contract with hop growers and suppliers. As a result, I ended up with spending $6000 on a few boxes of three strains: E. Kent Goldings, Glacier and Sorachi Ace. Never heard of the last one? I've found few brewers using it - that I know of, that is. It's a strange one, with a unique lemony (for lack of a better word) flavor and aroma. It's also 14% alpha. This hop is the driving force behind Union Dew, an unusual, unique and popular IPA, and which is the one beer that I continue to have to brew on a regular basis. Batch 11 was just casked up two days ago.

How does this relate to Schrodinger's Beer? Well, I wanted to see how it acts as just a bittering hop. 1 Kilo of this up front, along with 2 Kilos of Glacier, makes up the bittering. The finish is 3 Kilos of Cascade spread out over 15 minutes. Dry hop was 40 grams Cascade per firkin. I suffered through two weeks of nervous impatience before tapping the first cask. It has subsequently been pronounced delicious - the first firkin only lasting a day and a half. It's not over the top in any way, coming out at 5.9%.

Many of you American readers might not know what a sparkler is. It is a plastic device with small holes in it that is screwed onto the end of the swans neck of a beer engine. The effect of an ale dispensed in this manner is a creamer, smoother mouthfeel. In the UK it is a subject of much controversy, ofttimes caustic, with those of a generally Southern persuasion describing it as a "nefarious device" or the "work of the devil". I can handle cask ale both ways, but tend to prefer the common Northern inclination for drinking a sparkled ale. I have discovered, however, that this particular ale, and likely the bigger West Coast styles in general, is definitely better sans sparkler. So be it - that is the way it is being served. Come down and try a pint. See you at the pub.

Honest Pint

2009-10-03T11:15:00.000-07:00

This revisited. This time, thanks to Jeff Alworth of Beervana, the Blog, we have been certified as serving an honest measure. No, we don't actually serve it, we purvey it. Such a good word. Other purveyors can be viewed at the Honest Pint Project site.

Toonz

2009-10-01T16:03:00.000-07:00

We have some good music lined up for October. It is nice to have musicians contacting me and asking for gigs. Pop over to the About page for a listing.

It always amazes me how little interest there can sometimes be on a good night of quality live music. Last Saturday we had the entire Groove Liberation Front playing, and it was probably the slowest Saturday night we have had in months. By 9:00 the pub was empty. I got to enjoy it, though, and it was a nice way to round out a long week at the bar. I suppose everyone else was huddling in their living rooms, staying out of the rain and watching some exciting reruns. Or maybe crooning out a few soulful rounds of karaoke down at the Corner Bar.

Ash

2009-09-23T11:03:00.000-07:00

The fire is much worse today. The mountains are obscured and the sun is barely noticeable through the smoke. A gentle ash is falling.

Looking at the bright side, the helicopter crews have discovered us. And they've discovered real ale, much to their delight. We sold 40 servings (pints and halfs) of our own ale, and only 3 of the guest gas taps, last night.

These Long Days

2009-09-22T14:10:00.001-07:00

I've got it figured out. Just get up early and all will be well. I also needed to call England to check on my order from acask.com, which so far has taken them two weeks to figure out the shipping. The smoke from the fires south of here had all drifted west and was covering the mountains. The sunset should be interesting again tonight.

I had thought, given the four hours between 8:00 and 12:00, that I could get the beer racked. Also, while waiting for each cask to get washed, I could clean the beer lines. By 11:45 I managed to do same, but only got the wash and rinse on the casks. The pub opened at noon, so I have to wait until 5:00 for my temporary barkeep Jill to take over. I figure between 5:00 and 6:00 I can get the bitter into the casks and not have to be up until the wee hours hammering in those shives. 8:00 to 6:00 then, with coming back after play practice to do the closing at 10:00 PM - a not so unreasonably long day.

For you DIY homebrewers and aspiring small brewpub owners, you can make a smashing good cask wash system out of a sink, a cheepo sump pump, some copper fittings, and a spinning wash head from The Compleat Winemaker

Lightning Strikes

2009-09-21T14:34:00.000-07:00

Seems we've moved from Summer directly to Fire Season. A series of storms that blew through last week set some fires south of Oakridge, in steep and wooded terrain. The fire info guy drops by the maps and the update every day, and we keep it posted at the pub. Last year it was the fire crews that helped us through a slow first-year October, when the crews of 25 or 30 would drop by on a quiet Tuesday night and stress the kitchen. We've only seen sporadic groups so far - nothing to overwhelm. From what I have been told today, from one of the upper layer people in the Interagency Fire Team, the crews are required to be "well-behaved". Unless they are off duty. It's really hard to be ready for this.

With my main bar staff gone for eight days to Interbike in Las Vegas, I'm on the bar straight through from Sunday to Sunday. I have some sporadic part-time help in the middle of the week, but otherwise the thirsty punters will have to enjoy my good looks and witty banter on a regular basis for the time being. This does cause the problem, though, of getting to the brewery to prepare for when the fire crews DO get their break. I have safely tucked away Tanninbomb in the cellar, to be tapped the first week of December, but I have a bitter in the fermenter that needs to be casked up in a day or two. The tenants upstairs may have to suffer through the sound of a mallet knocking in shives at 1:00 AM. We're also just about out of Union Dew, AGAIN, and I won't be able to tackle the problem until next week.

American Mild

2009-09-14T13:25:00.000-07:00

I don't get out much these days, as has been readily observed by my nervous tick and slumped shoulders, but am down in Eugene to run errands. Most importantly, one of the antique steamer windows that serves as doors to the keg beer coolor broke the other day is getting replaced with lexan. Also, food and bar stock is being acquired, including another box of pens for the bar that seem to disappear at the rate of one a day. As a reward for driving the around the Big City, I get to sit at the High Street Cafe and have a pint or two while handling all the computer-related work that comes with the job. I am pleased that the new brewer here, Chris, is turning out some refreshing quality and variety. Other than my place, this is the first time in a coon's age that I've been able to enjoy a mild. It is billed as an American Mild, which maybe means that it is brewed with domestic pale malts and served at 35˚ an a 16 oz. shaker glass. Nice on the palette. I wish it could've been on the one beer engine instead of the Wheat.

2 Daves

2009-09-09T17:24:00.000-07:00

I've had this batch on the pumps for several weeks now, and there are only two casks left in the cellar, so come and get your pint before the next guy does. It is based off a recipe that is based off a recipe. In the classic nature of handed-down news, I suspect what I have going on here is much different than from the originator of the homebrew recipe, Dave A (on the right). In fact, I know that it is different because I have had the original dispensed from the kegerator in his garage. It was called Zippy IPA at the time.

A bottle of original made its way to our sister pub the Woolpack Inn a couple of years ago, nestled in a sock inside a backpack inside the belly of a United Airlines jet. It took a year, but the bottle was discovered lurking in the cellar and summarily consumed, causing Dave B (on the left) to inquire about the origin of the bottle. This led to the acquisition of the recipe, and its subsequent modification into a number called Zippy Red IPA.

I decided to have a go at it one day, and called Dave B for the recipe. There was some confusion as to crystal malt color designations, as the British like using arcane units of measure, but I just used 120L crystal for whatever was specified as crystal. Upon tapping, we discovered this lovely dark red stuff that had nice balance and a subtle hop aroma. Would I call it an IPA, like Dave A and Dave B did? Nope. It wasn't pale, for one thing, and it wasn't destined for India. It was just a dark red hoppy ale, albeit yummy, so I've been using the official style designation "Dark Red Ale". I think the official style designations have gotten a bit silly and out of hand, so I can make up my own; it's my pub.

This whole IPA thing has gotten out of hand. I like the occasional hop bomb, but for a nice night out at the pub I, generally speaking, don't require a hammer that large. I'm even getting more touchy about people stomping up to the bar and demanding (not "please" or "may I have") an IPA, without even looking at the beer list. Of course I can't appear touchy, what with the diminishing quality of customer service that this entails, but I'll talk about you when you leave, and you know who you are. The other one I often get is "What's your hoppiest?". This could mean several things. Are you talking about the finish; or about the number of IBU's; or what about that massive amount of bittering that doesn't translate into aroma. I have a nice bitter on right now that's nice and hoppy, what with the 0.3 Kg of Fuggles dumped in at flameout. It's sure hoppy by many standards, but its 3.5% ABV and lack of citrus confuses the unwashed masses.

2 Daves certainly is "hoppy", double quotes intended, but three of the handy imperial nonics will serve you nicely for an evening session at the Local 180. See you there.

It's Too Early for the Slow Season

2009-09-05T13:19:00.001-07:00

School has started already. The idea of them going to school before the Labor Day weekend has been a hard adjustment, as this weekend is a holiday weekend and already the trade has slacked off dramatically. This last week at the pub was heralded by the plaintive sound of crickets.

August was very good to us. Last weekend was the first Oakridge Keg & Cask Festival, which, for an inaugural event, was a great success. Thanks to Angelo for a nice write-up on Brewpublic, but for the record the credit for this event really goes to our local Danielle Bowerman who organized it, and all the volunteers that made it all happen. All I did was throw out some opinions, help with the logo design, and try to keep a pub up and running. Everybody seemed to be happy, the music was great, and the Oakridge Food Bank and the Oakridge/Westfir Chamber of Commerce made off with some cash. Some pictures are here.

The week before that was another Mountain Bike Oregon event. The August event was bigger and better than the July event, and the pub and the other beer sponsors gave away copious amounts of refreshment. The pub had its busiest day ever on the Thursday when all 500 or so participants arrived into town.

But it's now September. Trade is slacking off. Vacations are over. School has started. I had hoped to stash more cash away during the busy Summer, but any extra money was earmarked for covering back bills from the slow Spring. I do so look forward to pulling in some income someday and achieving positive cash flow, but for the time being we'll just have to tighten our belts and look forward to ski season. Perhaps we'll be pleasantly surprised, though, as we do have a year behind us and the fan base is growing. Come October we will be shortening our hours, which will include closing on Tuesdays this Winter.

Expect some new ales soon. I just brewed yesterday, with the assistance of a visiting professional brewer, a hoppy West Coast style IPA, balanced for cask rather than the extremes that are appearing on keg all over the place. The first cask of batch 10 of Union Dew is in the pumps right now, and it's chock full o' yum. Next weekend a firkin of Cumbrian Moor, a porter, will be appearing. This is based off last year's recipe, but hopefully with more body. Sometime next week I will be working on mashing 295 lbs. of grain for our winter Tanninbomb, which will be appearing after Thanksgiving with all it's oak chip goodness.

See you at the pub.

Kegged Dew

2009-08-25T22:55:00.000-07:00

When the last batch of Union Dew, our Sorachi Ace hopped IPA, was casked up a couple of months ago, there was a wee bit left in the fermenter. It was decided that this might do (dew) just fine racked off into a corny keg and gassed up like a proper real kegged ale. It's now on the bar, pushed with a fine batch of West Coast extraneous CO2 and served cold.

It ain't the same, say the few locals who have been taking samples. I find that many of the interesting flavors have been subdued (subdewed) by the temperature and the busy bubbles. All-in-all, a valuable lesson in beer physics.

It's nice to hear the folks eager for the cask version, which should be back in the pumps in a week and a half.

Warm Beer

2009-08-13T14:41:00.001-07:00

Just back in time for the first pub superannuation after four days of just plain not being here. While not working the bar until this evening, I did personally perform the quality control job of sampling the cylinder of each of the pumps before opening to remind myself how nice it is to have a well-kept cask ale.

However, spankings are in order for the Fish Brewing Company in Olympia, which serves their single cask offering at room temperature. The poor waitress, when queried on the matter, said she was "told to serve it that way". Humph. Some ales can be just fine right up to ambient, but not their hoppy IPA. How could such a well-established and obviously cash-rich brewery give either the appearance of not knowing better, or simply not caring? It certainly would put many off real ale, and I suppose contributes to the notion that I often hear that real ale is warm and flat.

Pelican, another biggie in the industry, does the same. Their cask sits behind the bar and is gravity dispensed. At the end of the day, when I was there, the ale had sought out the ambient as well. If they were to take it seriously, and they certainly have the money to do so, then they could easily build a small cellar under or behind the bar. They get a Humph as well.

Pike in Seattle gets an A and will avoid a Humph for the time being.

In the Proper Real Keg department, the Lompoc Strong Draft on nitro at the Hedge House in Portland was superb. Perfect temperature, perfect mouthfeel, and a nice malty body with a hint of smoke. Recommended as the ideal pint to dry off soaked motorcycle gear by.

Superannuation

2009-08-08T10:27:00.000-07:00

The 13th is the pub's first superannuation. Since I'm not much of a party planner, and the duties of just keeping this place afloat seem sufficiently adequate for the consumption of one's time and energies, I can boldly claim that there is not really going to be much going on. I do have it on good authority that the esteemed Porkesus shall be returning, our winged, prodigal, porcine pal, for a visit of cluck, swine and sauces from around the galaxy. Other than that, come down and have a pint. "Quid Hoc Sibi Vult" should be pouring, and possibly "Leftover Fuggles".

And for you doubters out there, PORKESUS IS REAL. REAL, I TELL YOU. JUST LIKE THE VELVETEEN RABBIT.

I think that if we've made it this far, through our first year, amidst poor financial and economic times, then we have a passable chance of a go at another. Or go silly crazy mad. And so, to stave that off, I'm strapping a tent and sleeping back atop Fair Chromio for a few days of just not being here. I hadn't been out for a good escape since the middle of May, so I'm due. See you on Thursday.

Oakridge Keg and Cask Festival

2009-08-04T17:35:00.000-07:00

The first, hopefully annual, experimental Oakridge Keg & Cask Festival is coming up in a few weeks. Saturday, August 29th, to be exact. The last big meeting on this was today, an attempt to tighten up the loose ends. While I am not by any means the "Organizer", what with all the things going on here that make a pub and brewery function, I have tried to insert the sundry molecule of influence. One of the best festivals, if you want to call it that, that I've attended was a Brewers Weekend at the Prince of Wales pub in Foxfield, Cumbria in June of 2007. I was confronted with around 40 different cask ales, the actual presence of many of the brewers and owners, and a room to stay in above the pub when the lights were turned out. The experience of rubbing shoulders and buying rounds with real industry professionals, not indifferent volunteers, made all the difference. It is this simple idea that I've tried to inject into this small budding local festival.

For breweries, I had the idea of selecting around a dozen within a 100 mile radius of the pub. Not the big guys, but the smaller crafts willing to send a brewer and/or an owner around to serve and discuss their products. I was hoping for around eight breweries, but so far we've only ended up with four. A couple of wineries also. I was a little disappointed with some of the brewers/vintners that took either a wait-and-see attitude, or just gave the cold shoulder. Nevertheless, we shall have a good time all around, and there will be music and food vendors and, I think, games involving fruits and vegetables.

Plumbing

2009-08-02T22:39:00.000-07:00

This pub is in a building constructed, along with the two to the West, around 1945. They are block buildings and they butt up against each other. It has interesting plumbing we discovered during the renovation. Common sense would've suggested that the collection of big black pipes would converge somewhere under the slab and run out to the street and into the main sewer. When constructing the front sidewalk patio we enthusiastically had the crew dig out the entire front of the building. Carefully, of course. Wouldn't want to crush the pipes.

There were no pipes. After scrambling around outside, we found a pipe coming from the back of the second story of the green building that had a clean-out near the ground, and after banging on it with a pipe wrench and listening to the clean-out in the ladies room we discovered that they shared a common destiny. That destiny is presumably the side street, the long way around, where I would image it works its way downhill to East First.

Something in those pipes got stuck today, because the water started pouring out of the floor sink in the kitchen, right while we were happily serving customers and I was awaiting the boil of my batch of hoppy ale. This is a Bad Thing (tm), because I dispense a great deal of water into that system on a brew day. If I didn't get it fixed, then a) I would have to toss out an entire batch, or b) I would forge ahead, allowing a couple hundred gallons of dihydrogen monoxide to flood the kitchen and bar. Fortunately one of the locals had a 20' snake, and I managed to root out some fascinating biological compounds and spent sanitary products, thereby freeing up, at least temporarily, the efflux of pub matter and mitigating my Level 2 Whinge.

The Good Thing (tm) that we've learned here is the demonstration of why the plumbing code insists on floor sinks in commercial kitchens. Also, I have a Sewer Expert coming tomorrow to do a thorough cleaning so this doesn't happen again for a month or two.

I hope this episode doesn't scare away all you promising young aspiring publicans. This state needs more pubs, so get out there and purchase or lease your space, get your Brewers Notice and Brewpub License, hire some staff, and get that career rolling. (And this means you, Jon the Lompoc brewer, as well).

Oh, and any happy trails and so forth to the 15 or so euro-bikers that showed up right when we opened, ate food and drank hardly and beer, and then left a whopping $5 tip. Woot!

The Continuing Quest for Cask Sundries

2009-07-29T11:59:00.000-07:00

This is perhaps a bit of a mundane topic, but essential to the running of a real ale brewery is a steady and reliable supply of sundries. That's such a great word - sundries. When used in conjunction with the word "notions", it conjures up imagery of the sorts of shops at the mall that the ladies drift off into while we gents take the straight and narrow to Radio Shack to buy batteries. But prefix it with the word "cask" and we're off into important, yea even critical, territory.

I had written way way back about my difficulties in finding a source for shives. My existing, and diminishing, collection was brought over in a backpack via airplane by Woolpack Dave in December. Now that that bucketful is 3/4 gone, it came down to either a) calling up Dave while he's in the kitchen in his multi-colored chef's trousers wielding a sharp knife, or b) once again trying to get a warm body on the end of the telephone at Plastic Kegs America. With images of sharp knife in mind, I called Plastic Kegs America and got AN ACTUAL RESPONSE. The nice young lady at the other end of Ma Bell sounded a trifle nervous about having to answer questions and take my order, but we got it sorted out that indeed they did now carry shives for CypherCo firkins and that I would be permitted to order some. She wanted to make REAL SURE that I was ordering the big things, not the little things, as she said that many customers get them confused. I assured her that, after brewing 37 batches of real ale in this country, I had a firm grip on the differences between shives and keystones, and that I wanted the big things.

I brew 2 UK BBL per batch, which is 8 firkins, hence 8 shives, keystones and hard spiles in disposable sundries. I can get the keystones and spiles easily enough from UK Brewing Supplies, but for some reason the 52.3 mm shives that work best with the CypherCo firkins are scarce or unavailable. The shives I ordered will cost me $0.55 each, with no volume discount (odd). With shipping, I'm paying $70 for 100. I was told that there would be a 2.5% surcharge for using my debit card over the phone, but that I would be permitted to send a check in advance. This is America - who does that?!

For the record, I had also been courting F.H. Steinbart in Portland for shives, since they had informed me that they could get anything. Anything, I tell you, anything. Given a couple phone calls, and even stopping in twice while in Portland, I remain unable to get any response. Sigh. Such seems to be standard for us small backwater breweries (or shed breweries - a term I've recently seen pop up on some British blogs). I suppose if I were a Full Sail or a Bridgeport I'd get somewhere, but I'll never know.

Compression in the Rear Cylinder

2009-07-27T17:19:00.001-07:00

It was Sunday afternoon, and I had intended to complete at least one of the many blog entries that I had started and left unfinished. I didn't want anyone to miss out on the tragic tale of the two malfunctioning thermometers, or my commentary on good customer relations, or the satire on pub closings. Nevertheless, I had dealt with a loose head bolt in the real cylinder of Fair Chromio a couple of weeks ago, one which caused a burnt-out head gasket. Repairs having been successfully completed, I remain steadfast in my attempts to "run it through its paces" to determine if aforementioned recalcitrant bolt should rapidly wiggle its way loose, or alternatively (and for the better) make it through another leak-free year of American engineering. No blogging this day.

A trip to Bend was calculated to be just the thing for it. Via the Cascade Lakes Oregon Scenic Byway. 110 miles one way. This is a truly stunning ride, especially the part that winds between South Sister and Mount Bachelor. By the time I made it that far I settled on the knowledge that compression in the real cylinder, or any for that matter, is a Good Thing (tm). Whilst traveling, and to kill the proverbial bird with the celebrated solitary stone, I though checking to see if the cask offerings at Deschutes in Bend were as good as the ones mentioned in Portland.

It was broken, I was told. No handpull. I though there used to be two pumps, but didn't argue the point. The parts, difficult to acquire, were being sought after in some remote island off the coast of France. I had to opt for "regular beer". First choice was the Jubelale in July. Remarkably delicious. This is their traditional winter brew, but was trotted out in July for some reason.

What's a trip to Bend without stopping by the Bend Brewing Company; it's only the walk of a couple blocks. The Outback Old Ale was the choice, as I wanted something bitter without all the hop finish. No comments on this pint here - after all this is not a beer review blog, it's about motorcycles.

To further test the performance of the rear cylinder, and to clean out the carb, I then motored over Santiam with the intent of riding the Aufderheide back to Oakridge for some proper (and free) real ale, but decided that the scenario of encountering a large, mobile piece of meat around 10:00 PM near Constitution Grove in the pitch dark at 70 MPH was less desirable than going all the way down to Eugene and coming up 58. Which I did. I tried to stop at High Street, my Eugene local, but failed to acquire a pint after waiting 30 minutes. It didn't appear like they were busy, as they said they were, but I got tired of just sitting and browsing The Internets on my iPhone and decided just to give it a miss and head up the mountain.

Back at the Local 180, I have to say that this new batch (#9) of Union Dew is outstanding. You should try a pint.

Free Beer

2009-07-22T12:51:00.000-07:00

Wednesday morning at the Trailhead - the weekly hide-in-a-corner and think moment. I've just read, as is my wont, a number of British pub and beer blogs, many of which were heading down the slippery slope of increasing antagonism. So, I thought I'd write about something positive.

Free beer.

Yep. Legend and lore has it that "there's no such thing", but this past weekend was the first-of-the-season Mountain Bike Oregon event in our little ex-logging, ex-mining, ex-railroad, ex-tourism town up in the sunny Oregon Cascades, and such a thing there was. As sponsors, the Brewers Union and three other local breweries, Oakshire, Ninkasi and Block15, gave away copious amounts of liquid bounty. The cyclists, around 300 of them, were mostly encamped out at the Greenwaters Park, where a beer garden was set up in front of the amphitheater. I chose not to provide my wares at the park, as all my regular bar staff was involved with the event and, as such, I couldn't get away to set up and operate portable stillage. My solution was to give away pints of whatever was on the handpulls concurrent with the opening hours of the beer garden at the park. My solution to the lack of staffing was to work the bar from Thursday night at 6 PM to Saturday night at 11:30 PM, with the periodic, helpful assistance of my friend Dave . This is not a recommended method of recovery for plantar fasciitis.

Free beer: Friday and Saturday, 4 to 10. Most of us have recovered by now. The corpses in the picture were not all given away; I'm guessing we sold around half of them, especially on Thursday when we had our highest grossing night since we opened around 11 months ago.

The saddest part of Saturday night was cleaning up all the partially consumed pint glasses after the doors were heaved shut at 11:30. For the second MBO event in August I'm considering bringing out several cases of half pint glassware, instead of drawing full pints. I also have a lot of brewing to do in the next month. I tucked away a special bitter into FV1 yesterday, and will be cleaning the copper out and brewing again tomorrow. Maybe. Alternatively I could rest my sore feet and tuck into a good book.

"I don't want anything hoppy."

2009-07-09T23:14:00.000-07:00

As much as I like the occasional hoppy pint, it's really nice to hear customers looking for something different. I had several customers in here tonight choosing either the mild or the bitter I had on the pumps for the simple reasons that a) they wanted something light in alcohol, b) not a little of bittering or hop aroma, and c) the temperature and mouthfeel of real ale.

On the other hand, the keg of the Eel River IPA from Northern California (ABV 7.0%) is very nice and has been selling briskly. I've been quite delighted with it, as the brewer has chosen to provide more of a malty characteristic to (here's that word again) balance out the bittering and aroma. Depending on how late I'm here tonight, I might just pour myself a (gasp) half to close out the evening, but I'm still tugging away on a bitter at the moment while I catch up on my bookkeeping.

If It Ain't Broke...

2009-07-07T12:53:00.001-07:00

... fix it 'til it is.

Things keep breaking with gusto. This past week it was an outlet near the ceiling that fried. This was old circuitry installed by the former denizens of the building, who had intended to use them to proudly power Oregon Lottery Machines. I was home at the time, trying to get a few things done such as fix my motorcycle and take a 20 minute nap. When informed via telephone that the breaker was off and the circuit was safe for the time-being, I opted to just stay home and fix the thing in the morning. The nagging feeling that something important was also on that circuit was fortified in the morning when it was discovered that the sandwich prep table, chock full of prepared and neatly organized foodstuffs, was refrigerating its contents at 65˚. Fortunately all was not lost - the cheese survived and a few of the veggies. Circuit fixed - table working by opening hour.

Next was the HVAC system in the brewery and kitchen. It had been vigorously pumping ambient air all day without a care for rendering it COOLER, which was the directive from the thermostat. A brave inspection under THE PANEL in the heat pump outside revealed that 240V was getting to the compressor and fan, but neither were functioning within any reasonable tolerance of spec, i.e. they weren't spinning and they smelt a little odd. Being holiday weekend, getting ahold off Phil the HVAC guy was to be difficult. Two days later and the unit is back working. Fortunately the offensive piece of technology was a starter cap, and not the entire unit which would've cost me a tidy bundle.

This means that I can brew again. It looks like it will be another batch, number 9, of Union Dew. Mountain Bike Oregon is a week and a half away and I'm sponsoring free beer, so I need to stock up.

"Whatever" IPA, the first cask, was on this weekend. It is gone now, three days later. It came out a bit cloudy, which was unusual as I have a working finings regimen down these days. It also tasted a little green, but that is the price one pays for being anxious. I will be putting another one on for the weekend, along with the last cask of The Movie Star, a ginger bitter brewed almost a year ago, and the new batch of La'al Rye'un, a light rye mild. It should be a decent weekend with the Cascade Creampuff mountain bike race and a large class reunion going on.

Random Sundries and Minutiae

2009-06-28T12:31:00.000-07:00

The only thing that broke so far today was the swans neck on the pump at the left (is that pump #6 or pump #1?). Perhaps we were all letting our enthusiasm getting away with us when faced with the task of dispensing a pint of That Dark Beer. Anyway, a quick substitution from one of the two traveling pumps and we were on our way. I suspect a quick trip to the local welder, if he can be found, will make it all like new.

I had briefly toyed with the idea of traveling to England, sitting at the bar at the Woolpack, and waiting for Mr. Simpson to bring his van of bar bits round so I could purchase a replacement. After all, I had pulled in almost the Oregon minimum wage yesterday working the bar the entire day, pocketing $85 in cold cash money. Begone, wishful thinking - I'll just treat myself to some gasoline and an eggie and coffee at the Trailhead, and leave off trips abroad until I'm flush with cash and all six of my real ale pubs are in jolly happy running order.

The mild in fermenter number one was not broke today. It looked just about right for turning on the chiller, so casking up should be Monday. This is a remake of La'al Rye'un that was brewed back in December, but this time it broke - in the mash. I had been messing with the grinder to try to break up the grain a little finer, and I think I went too far. Up until this batch the mill was turning out a few unsplit grains, so I thought I'd just tighten it up a little. Too much, apparently, because the increase in the amount of dust coupled with the 20 lbs. of rye must've conspired to create a bed of glue in the bottom of the mash tun. It took a good long time, and a lot of sediment, to get the copper full. O.G came out at 1.033 instead of the 1.036 in the last batch. Smells nice, though, and I'll be giving it a taste soon when I get it all tucked away into the casks.

A gentleman who had been down here in the fall, fly fishing, was back last night. He has close connections with a hop farm up North, and he said the crops look good this year. The prices have declined a bit, which will be enormously helpful, as I'm starting to run low on my stash. Hops are much harder to come by for a little brewery like mine, as I can't carry a contract, so I will be having to knock on a lot of back doors. I may be able to acquire a bail or two in August if I drive up to get them. Trouble is, they won't be vacuum packed and I will need to figure out a way to preserve them for several months. Also, a bail is 200 lbs. and I have limited storage space. Necessity is the mother of.... etc.

Now it's time to go fix a motorcycle. No Harley jokes, please.

Yet More Portland Commentary

2009-06-25T12:06:00.000-07:00

It always takes a few days to catch up on stuff whenever I leave the business for any reason. Now that it's Thursday, and I am spending my $4 in tip money from last night on a micro-breakfast and coffee at the Trailhead Coffeehouse, I can liberate my notes from the weekend Portland airport run.

There was not as much time to spend researching as was afforded in the previous weekend's run, but I managed to check out a few more new places and revisit the old. First was the Highland Stillhouse (again) to see what was in the pumps. It turned out to be Ninkasi Tricerahops, which was way too big a beer for the first pint, or the second. Instead, I opted for a couple of Brew Dog products in bottle, which I hadn't had before and had heard a lot about. I paid too much for them, but the house needs to make its markup somehow. I thought they were nicely balanced and refreshing. The amusing commentary on the labels comes across as the Scottish equivalent to San Diego's Stone Brewing Company, with its fiercely independent, no-compromise and non-conformist philosophy to brewing.

I had been tipped off that the Full Sail Pilsner Room had cask offerings, so I headed that way next. It is located in the riverside marina area towards the south of Portland, where money obviously has its foot firmly in the door, and where rural publicans are likely to feel out of place. This one did, the immediate impression upon entering conveying the typical American-food-factory-brewery approach to having a pint and a bite to eat. The only way to avoid the flicker of the televisions was to look at my feet. As advertised, there were three hand pulls proudly mounted to the prow of the island bar, of which two were affixed to a couple of casks tucked away in some unknown location. I ordered a pint of a stout for starters. Now, as I've undoubtedly stated before, ad nauseam, that I don't like beer reviews, I am still trying to find a way to issue a brief and objective statement about the attributes of some of the offerings without the perfunctory assertion that so-and-so is just rubbish. However, how can a brewery as large and established as Full Sail (or Bridgeport) succeed in getting it wrong? Is it a matter of just not caring, or are the intricacies of tending to real ale within the large, impersonal, corporate model unattainable? I'm not much of a stout drinker, but this one was [perfunctory assertion] rubbish. It had a harsh edge to it, and not the sort of chewy body that I hope to find in a stout. This impression was assisted in its downward spiral by the visual of the barkeep filled the glass with around a dozen jerking motions on the handle. I requested a taster of the Amber on the other pump, and it had the same quality. Also, the company next to me wanted to make sure that I departed with the knowledge that they were, on a daily basis, simply exhausted with having to sit in the sun all day and throw parties all night on their 70 foot boat moored out in the Willamette. I was eager to move on.

I did manage to get a pint in at the Alberta Street Public House, having cleverly arrived after 3:00 unlike my previous misguided attempts. This establishment was refreshingly pub-like, and I entertained myself in the little cozy in the front window with a good book. Now if they could only install a nice little real ale brewery in some disused back room...

After the family was picked up from the airport and tucked away in the motel, I snuck off to one of the few Oregon Brewers Guild breweries that I had yet to visit - the 4th Street Brewing Company in Gresham just a few miles away. American-food-factory-brewery model again, but the patrons seemed to be having a good time. The brewery is showcased in glass behind the bar, between two large TV's. I tried two pints, a porter and an IPA, and didn't much care for either, being too cold, thin and gassy. The little card describing each beer informed me that the IPA was made with "over 30 lbs. of hops". This doesn't really tell me anything, does it? I mean, which hops? And what is the capacity of the brewhouse? And when are they introduced to the boil? At least I had some good conversation with the bar staff, which doesn't happen that much in some of the slicker places.

The following day found us downtown at Powell's. Since the restroom therein was being cleaned at my moment of greatest need, and the book I was looking for was not in stock, I popped out and headed two blocks North on 11th to the new shiny Deschutes place, which I knew to have two hand pulls. Sure enough, they had both pouring, and I tucked into a pint of Twilight. It was delicious and well-kept. Despite having a push-button brewery, replete with touch-screen technology, they have really succeeded in demonstrating that the big, shiny guys CAN product an extraordinary pint if they put their mind to it. The other cask offering was something dark, which I wasn't in the mood for, so I opted for the SeaFort 7, a deep red Belgian style ale. It didn't disappoint.

I'm hoping to get back up North again for my two month break around the middle of July. Any suggestions for new research sites are appreciated.

Not a Beer Blog

2009-06-17T20:11:00.001-07:00

This is not really a beer blog. If it were, I would not be inclined to mention things you don't want to know about our kitchen equipment. You don't realize how important these appliances are until something goes all pear-shaped with one of them. Frightening thing is, if there is a failure in any one of the major AND minor exhibits of pub technology, then you are bound to find, somewhere in the vicinity, a whingy publican.

A couple of weeks ago, on a Friday night, at 5:00 prompt, the deep fryer went on holiday. This, next to the 2 x 2 flat top grill (more to come on this subject) is a cornerstone of our little kitchen. A couple greasy hours later and the fortuitous discovery of a replacement 240V cable in the storage room, and our little electric gem was back in order. A few customers had to go without their fish and chips for a spell, but there's always the mash and gravy for a handy substitute.

Monday night featured the grill throwing sparks. This grill was one of the appliances that was left in the building when the former owners fled, and which, under evaluation, was deemed to have some merit left to it. We are currently working with a temporary propane camp stove substitute until the part, a heating element that was observed to be partially crispy upon deconstruction of the grill, arrives from some warehouse in Illinois. I get to take yet another trip to Eugene in hopes of picking up the brand new shiny replacement and getting it installed and reassembled before the lunch reservation of 20 shows up. I suspect, as I type now on Wednesday night, that the aforementioned scenario might contain a few parts wishful thinking, but what could go wrong, I keep saying.

Now let's blog about beer. With all the heavy thoughts lately about West Coast IPA's on cask, I thought I'd just hack one together today. For all the customers that come up to the bar and say, "Oh... I'll just have a pint of .... whatever", I have named it "Whatever" in order to ease the decision making process of the barkeep confronted with the unsatisfying task of making choices for others. This is my first brew with a yeast called Windsor from Lallemand, which has done something like double the prices of their dry yeast in the last year. Sheesh. It had an unusual nose to it as I waited for it to activate in my pitching pitcher (the pitcher into which I pitch the yeast into 2L of 25 deg. C wort), but we're committed now. I'll make passing mention of its progress in future editions of my pub blog, a blog that sometimes mentions beer.

Quickie Research Project

2009-06-13T19:45:00.001-07:00

I had to drive to Portland yesterday (Friday) to take my family to the airport to visit the folks in Illinois. That gave me the afternoon and evening to do a little business-related research. My focus this time was IPA's on cask. There are a small collection of cask outlets in Portland, usually with a single handle serving one of the few breweries that bother drawing off a beer into a cask. The reason I was after IPA's was that I'm finding that the West Coast style doesn't translate well to cask. I think that the over-the-top and out-of-balance qualities are well-masked by gas and lower temperature.

First stop was the Alberta Street Pub. I wasn't able to get in last time I was up in May, as it was shoulder-to-shoulder and dimly lit, so I'm not even sure that they have a beer engine. Alas, it was noon, and the pub was to open at 3:00. Or was it 5:00. It didn't say on the door, and my quick little iPhone search revealed two different opening times. Same results for the Moon & Sixpence, which was to be my next stop. Change of plans.

The Horse Brass was guaranteed to be open for lunch, so I navigated my way a bit further South and East to the mid-regions of Belmont Street. It was remarkably quiet for a Friday at 12:30, so I had a nice cozy corner to work on a pint and a book. First pint was Hale's Mongoose IPA. I like this one - it is similar to my Dearth and Surfeit, but with a hoppier nose. It is dispensed sans-sparkler, as were destined to be all my pints for the day, but not with the sort of care one would expect in a southern English pub. The glass is unceremoniously placed on the drip tray, into which the liquid is pumped a vast distance from the stubby nozzle creating a thick-foamed head. Next pint, served in similar fashion, was Hop Stoopid from Lagunitas. This pint really needs to be enjoyed via keg, as the temperature and conditioning brought out some of the problems that are masked by a set of numb tastebuds.

Next, a quick walk up to Belmont Station to see if they had their beer engine installed as I had heard was to be the case. It was installed, but, guess what? Not available until 3:00. Change of plans.

One of the three Lucky Labrador establishments is in the same Portland quadrant as the Horse Brass, and I knew they had a single beer engine. It also was somewhat quiet for the middle of a Friday afternoon. The offering on cask was a guest beer. I can't remember who's it was (no jokes here please), but it was hazy and decent. I think I confused the barkeep by ordering it. He gave the pump handle and the blackboard listing the beers a puzzled look before tucking into the task at hand. Plenty of time here to knock off a couple chapters of my book and engage in some quality people-watching.

By now I had great hopes that the Moon & Sixpence would be open. Good enough, it was. 5:00 on a Friday afternoon yielded three gentlemen at the bar. I was starting to feel a bit better about slow days at the pub, although not that much better as I was also thinking about all the bills I still have to pay when I get back. The Red Seal was on, which I had the last time I was there, but also Ninkasi's Tricerahops (!!). This is an 8.8%, ridiculously hopped imperial IPA, which doesn't belong on cask. So, that means I had to have one, along with a nice Cornish Pasty. The beer was so hazy and full of particulates that you could almost spread it on a piece of toast. I was hoping the little chunks floating around were remnants of the dry hopping process. Only one pint could be enjoyed here, as Tricerahops fails miserably as a contestant for the "session beer" moniker.

One more stop before going home. My new favorite place in Portland is actually in Oregon City, viz., the Highland Stillhouse. You all should visit. Outrageously comfy atmosphere, more than 140 single malt scotches, great food, and a fine selection of beers and ales, including a couple of cask offerings. It was jumping busy, and the patio was open. It took 30 minutes for the rain to hit and force most of the patrons inside, but I managed to grab a corner of one of the canopies and took to people watching. No IPA's on the pumps, but the Red Seal was nice.

Back home, one night further along the path of life, I'm blogging and enjoying a pint of Baba O'Rye'ly, which you won't be able to find in Portland, or any great city for that matter. I get to travel back up to Portland next Saturday for an airport run, and undoubtedly will continue a bit more research in the area.

A Couple One-Offs on the Pumps

2009-06-05T19:29:00.000-07:00

A couple new beers are finding their home on the stillage behind the bar. I have written about Whisky in a Jar on this blog, and it is now on. The second cask, in fact; the first lasted only a couple of days. The tannins from the oak chips are evident but not overpowering, and the fragmentary amount of the whisky manifests itself as more of a tickle on the tongue, provided one takes a generous quaff.

On Monday I rolled on Baba O'Rye'ly, a special bitter at 4.9% ABV. This has a range of crystal malt, with sparse amounts of the higher Lovibond malts for a hint of the caramely (is that a word?) flavors, and a dash of Black Patent for spice. It also has 20 lbs. of rye, and was dry hopped with E.K. Goldings. I vented this ale on Tuesday, satisfied with the slight puff from the shive. Wednesday morning I tapped it and then tried it that evening. I was not satisfied with the flavor, having too much of an isinglass problem yet. Same on Thursday, but not so pronounced. I tried to help the problem along by drawing two gravity pints and drinking them. Today, Friday, it was just slightly above decent. I put it on tonight, and am enjoying a pint whilst I type.

Exhaustion Almost Has a Flavor

2009-06-03T18:45:00.000-07:00

It's been many weeks since my last confession. Puzzling, because the interval between now and my last post contained a highly anticipated respite from the daily beating - viz., three days (two nights) off, astride fair Chromio, questing Northwest Oregon for a worthy pint and an establishment of quality and dark nooks in which to consume it in the company of a book or a an enlightening and intelligent conversation. I had taken a few notes while away, both on flat bits of highly compressed and processed tree, and in the more dubious recesses of my slowly decaying cortex. There were to be a series of blog entries to follow; well crafted sequences of constrained verbiage to be chucked into the digital slough.

And that's all fine and good, but it's not where I am. I'm examining a phenomenon, a beast that almost manifests itself as a funny, elusive taste in my mouth, which is too complex and rich to describe unless you, yes you, the reader, immerse yourself in the life of a pub owner. My friend Premises Supervisor Dave writes about similar stuff at his rural inn in the Lake District of England. He permitted me a taste of the life, and I'm still rolling it around in my mouth like a cask-strength single malt whisky from Islay. Peat's not for everyone.

I know that there are many of you out there who have dreamed of opening and running your own brewpub. I've talked to you. You can be recognized by your nervous tick, by the pace and rhythm of your conversation, by the elusive reflection in your eyes reminiscent of a board-room pie chart: one part crazy, two parts mad. I may not, at the moment, be able to offer a reason why, but I still say to you, "run with it."

Are you running? Good. Good to hear. While running, herein lies a mere taste of what you might encounter along the Road to Exhaustion and the Best and Worst of Times.

- Revolving credit is evil. When credit card companies, upon which you have based a portion of your unexpected startup costs, can raise your rates from 7.9% to 29.99% without asking for permission, you will be entitled to the privilege of living with a rock in your gut until you can find a way to expel or digest it.

- The menu has been revamped to actually reflect the original vision of a "Pub Menu". For you American's, unfamiliar with British or Irish pub life, read that as "Cafe Menu". I want it to be simple and on a chalkboard and to not create the impression of being a restaurant. I know I aggravate my customers and my staff by my seeming bullheadedness, only to continue to affirm to myself that I have specific ideas of what this pub is to be.

- We have great reviews on TripAdvisor.

- More often than not the first thing I hear upon arriving in the morning is a complaint of some sort or another. I haven't failed to notice that sometimes I'm the source of the complaint. Lately it has been the cost of running the kitchen. It shouldn't cost as much as it does and I wish I didn't have to solve the problem any more than the next guy. Problem is, if I don't solve it, I ultimately wind up commuting and programming computers for Some Other Guy, like the days of yore. I would also have to start buying beer again, and it would be cold and fizzy and in a bottle.

- You don't want to, ever, ever, try to please everyone. No matter what you choose to do, you will annoy, puzzle and confuse some portion of the public. But I know, less and less theoretically, that success is not based on statistics, but on quality, personality and commitment. And cash flow. Stupid cash flow - who invented that? Probably some Harvard MBA or something, or a (gasp) economist.

- I have equity investors to appease real soon, who wish to convert labor into cash in various and seemingly impossible degrees of expediency. I'd like to comply, but the business at 9 months is not even profitable yet.

- Water. Simple, but people want it hot, cold, and instantly. When we're having a busy evening, it would be useful for this natural product to be self-serve. I've spent part of the day trying to solve this problem, and don't have a good answer yet. I think I'll just buy a bunch of picnic water coolers and rotate them through the walk-in cooler for the moment, as I can't get into the idea of paying for bottled water that I have to pay for and pick up in Springfield once a week.

My next post will be about butterflies and bunnies. These butterflies and bunnies will be enjoying real ale and reading a book or enjoying an enlightening and intelligent conversation, hopefully in an unlikely and incongruous real ale pub in a small ex-logging/mining/railroad town in the Oregon Cascades.

(Sigh) On the Telly Again

2009-05-13T09:01:00.000-07:00

We had an unexpected visit from KVAL, one of the local TV stations, on Monday. They were up here doing an "Unexplored Oregon" story about the mountain biking scene, and were lured into the pub by our own enthusiastic Ben and Randy. Sit yourself back and watch the video.

Hours

2009-05-12T23:08:00.000-07:00

Since the "News" page on the regular website now links here and elsewhere, I thought I should post that our Summer Hours are now in effect. This means that you will no longer be disappointed by a locked door when you appear at 12:18 PM for a pint of Union Dew and a Pastrami Reuben with Garlic Mashed Potatoes and Mushroom & Thyme Gravy.

Culture

2009-05-11T08:56:00.000-07:00

I had been contemplating a number of posts on culture, particularly how it relates to the pub, and even more particularly the American Pub (definition pending), when I came across a bunch of photos fermenting on my iPhone. I suspect that there are many of you out there on this third rock who might be unable to reconcile a gathering of screaming bagpipes as a cultural event worth note. However, this is the Great Melting Pot, and to hear these guys wailing away in the confined space of the public bar was sublime. It was Tree Planting Festival weekend in our small mountain town, and I, for one, am a fan of the small town parade. There are not many small towns engaging in this distinctly American cultural pastime, or doing it properly in my opinion, and so I get moderately "into it". This incongruous marching assembly of drummers and bagpipers, the Eugene Fire Pipes and Drums, wafted past during the formalities, and then drifted into the pub afterwards. The simple lure of a free pint was adequate impetus for a a nice half hour micro-concert.

There is a good chance I can get them back up here in full regalia and with all the exciting bits of musical equipment. I have a business card here on my desk from the Pipe Major/Manager who suggested that if I brewed a batch of beer and named it after them, then they would periodically appear to drink it and to play. Sounds fair. I'm not convinced that "Eugene Fire Pipes and Drums" is a blue-chip beer name, so I'll have to mull that over a bit, but I'm fairly sure it will be a dark mild.

This One Writes Itself

2009-04-28T14:41:00.000-07:00

I Am A Craft Brewer on Vimeo

Wow! Made me both proud and thirsty. And a little bit misty.

Whisky in a Jar

2009-04-17T10:38:00.000-07:00

I finally grabbed the pictures off my iPhone, which serves as my only camera. It's also a great phone, browser, mail client, and it plays music, but that is fodder for someone else's blog. What I was attempting to retrieve were some of the pictures from casking up day of my Spring seasonal one-off. It seems that some oak chips got accidently crammed into a quart canning jar, which was (accidently as well) filled with a peaty Bowmore single malt whisky.

They lingered in said fashion for a month.

Then one day I was casking up an extra special bitter that I specially brewed for the coming days of sunshine and outdoor recreation, and I got a clever idea - probably the second or third time this has happened to me. Consequently, the whisky was extracted from the chips, revealing a darker color than the original.

The math was easy - as I brew 2 UK BBL, which is eight firkins, I separated up the chips into eight piles. Astute observers might inquire as to the contents of the other containers on my sophisticated brewery desk. The white stuff is isinglass finings being blended. Followers of previous posts will be delighted to know that I've figured out the correct mixture. The amber liquid on the far right in the pitcher is a finings adjunct that works together with the isinglass to produce yummy bright beer.

It will probably be Memorial Day weekend before I tap the first cask of "Whisky in a Jar". I want time for some of the tannins to work their way into the beer, and the end of May will give it about two months. ABV worked out at 5.7%, so it will be the highest gravity ale on for the summer; my IPA's are working out at around 4.0% to 5.5%. It is also time to work on some nice low gravity summer session ales, so I better get busy.

Honest Pints and the Strong Arm of the Law

2009-04-05T21:31:00.000-07:00

In the last week and a half I've had two conversations about whether THE LAW should be involved with the notification or regulation of the discrepancy between the amount of beer nominally dispensed in a glass, and the ofttimes unsuitable amount actually dispensed. The first was with a well-known whisky and beer writer with whom I had the pleasure of entertaining at my pub last Friday. This was the point at which I first became aware that our elected lawmakers were even considering generating paper, perspiration and poo-poo over over this issue. Shortly thereafter I received a phone call from a writer for the Eugene Register-Guard over the same topic, which resulted in an article in the Register-Guard and a subsequent expurgated version on Fox News.

I had been aware of the Honest Pint Project for some time. It seems that a large proportion of beer vendors dispense a measure inferior to the stated amount. I know this is true, because a cursory scan of the standard shaker glass (16 oz. American pint) often reveals a large glassy bit at the bottom and a whitish foamy bit at the top, neither of which qualify as one of our favorite liquid refreshments (although the foam does contain trace elements). Maybe this is OK for some, such as the pitcher punters unaware that there is no volumetric definition of a pitcher, but for me it is just plain dishonest. Who, after all, would be satisfied with 19 gallons of gas for the price of 20, or a perceived inferior ratio of the so-called "berry" to the little yellow sugary pillows in my Cap'n Crunch Crunchberry box.

At first I was afraid that the State Gummint busybodies were going to attempt to turn this kind of behavior into a crime, much like the OLCC prohibiting me from enjoying a pint (proper, in a lined glass) of my own ale produced in my own brewery after closing time while I do the till, or allowing a youngster to come up to the bar and ask for another creme soda. If they were to take that approach, then the liberation of the proverbial worm-laden can suggests a tsunami of honesty legislation. Or maybe manners mandates? Hmmm. Now we're talking. I would love to have a law requiring customers to be polite, read signs, and say "Please" instead of "I'll have...". Violators would be clapped in irons without bail and sent to the pokey for three years until they can learn to wait twenty minutes for their food.

The second twang of uneasiness in the stomach was that they (The Gummint) might force every one of us to use exactly the same size glass. This would spark my own personal revolutionary insurrection. I already have a significant investment in my glassware, which I had custom-printed in the spirit of the British Imperial Pint, notably the 23 oz. overisized, lined glass. I like my glassware. I REALLY like my glassware. It feels good in the hand, and I know exactly how to fill it. It is eminently grippable and painfully honest. It is not to be messed with, Gummint or otherwise.

As I understand it, though, the proposed legislation takes the approach of certification. If your dispensed volume equals the stated volume, if you walk the talk, then you get a sticker or something. That might be alright, as long as I don't have to pay for it or otherwise waste taxpayers' money. I admit to really appreciating the Cask Marque designations at British pubs, but then I'm a snob for real ale and don't want to wander into a pub bereft of my favorite beverage. So, I'd put a sticker on my door, provided that it was free, large, and colorful.

Sadly, though, I'm not sure the American consumer, for the most part, really cares. Some do, though. My hope is that an awareness and appreciation for honesty and friendliness, for civility, for decent pubs and real ale and good music and nice slow-cooked meals, will continue to grow. Honesty is self-regulating, and the customers that appreciate these things will find us, Gummint or no.

A Short Blog Entry Concerning Excessive Monetary Extraction

2009-03-29T11:16:00.000-07:00

It is not the purpose of this blog to furnish negative commentary on fellow breweries/brewpubs, but two separate conversations delivered over the bar yesterday were still in my slowly decaying cortex even this morning.

It seems that a certain brewery establishment in Newport is charging $6.75 (!) for a pint, which may or may not even contain 16 oz. depending on which piece of glassware was apprehended for the job. In case you missed that, that's six dollars and seventy five cents (another !). Anyone have a problem with that?

And, a limp fragment of trucked-in fish the size of a McDonalds hash brown freed up $13 worth of space in the patron's wallet. Why?

Chemistry and Physics

2009-03-26T10:02:00.003-07:00

It was a week ago when I took off to Portland for the Firkin Fest at the Green Dragon. The festival was Saturday, but I wanted to go up early, not only to get the stillage and casks set up the day before the festival, but also to have some time off. As is typical, when I return I find that all the work has piled up such that it takes several days before I can find a moment or two to write. The nice part is that a number of empty casks had piled up over the weekend, which means that I needed to brew more ale. The not so nice part is that there is mounting desk work, including taking a peek at the ol' bank account to see how it might stand up against the stack of bills.

As the Local 180 was the only brewery dispensing out of handpulls, we were sent over to a corner like a naughty schoolboy. I was quite happy about this, as there was adequate space to rest two firkins and to set up the portable pub pulls, and to have elbow room for schmoozing during the festival. The other casks were all lined up on the bar and dispensed by gravity. I was in early Friday morning for the setup, as I needed to make sure the casks could settle before tapping. I returned Friday evening to vent, tap and taste. When I arrived Saturday morning for the final check I discovered, to the horror of anyone setting up a proper real ale festival (especially in the UK), that the firkins had been rolled on mere hours earlier. In fact, they were being tapped less than an hour before the festival opening. I suspect that none of the ales were true real ales, but were instead production brews destined for kegs which were simply drawn off into traditional firkins. Someone please correct me if I'm wrong. The keystone broke on one of the casks during tapping, and the offending vessel was hauled out into the street for keystone replacement. Another left it's mark on the ceiling when the spile was driven home. Fun.

There were two open sessions with space for 200 participants. The first session seemed about half full, so it proceeded at a nice pace, and I got to work the entire three hours pulling beers and flapping my gums. For the second, an enthusiastic volunteer took over for me for the last hour and a half so I could do some sampling. This is the part of the story where I must resist the temptation so say I liked so-and-so beer, or that Widget Brewing Company's Numpty Porter was rubbish (although Bridgeport's Raven Mad Imperial Porter was scrummy, and I don't even drink much porter). Instead, what captivated my little gray cells was how much better all the beers I got to sample were when liberated from the cask at a reasonable temperature and without all the gas. I have much praise for American brewers' understanding of the chemistry of brewing. The variety of styles and flavors is outstanding. The trouble I'm having, though, is with the physics of beer. For ales, there is much lost in insisting that they be served cold and full of giant, obnoxious bubbles. This simply numbs the palette and rules out any hope of appreciating the subtleties and mouthfeel. It is my continuing hope that an appreciation for real ale will increase, and I'm attempting to promote the style one proper pint at a time.

While not dealing with the festival, I trolled around looking for real ale outlets in Portland. The offering from Tugboat was quite nice. The pint of Racer 5 I had at the Horse Brass, while a banner pint when I had it in December with Dave Bailey of the Woolpack Inn, had lost most of its conditioning - still nice to have though. I finished at the Rock Bottom, where there were two offerings on cask. I noticed that both casks were equipped with breathers. I can't remember the style of the first pint I had (no jokes please), which was delightful to come across in keg country, but I recall that the stout I had second was starting to turn just a little. The barkeep merely nodded at me when I mentioned this, and I imagined him ticking the snob checkbox on my entry in his POS.

Before and after the main Portland segment of my trip, I stopped at the Highland Stillhouse in Oregon City. I love this place. In my book it rivals the aforementioned Horse Brass pub in its likeness and atmosphere to a British pub. I have hopes to someday drive up a firkin or two for a mini-festival.

Some other nice commentary of the Firkin Fest can be found here and here.

Six Months Old

2009-03-17T14:56:00.000-07:00

NO! Not the pub - the pub has been open more than seven months. This is about an old friend of mine who recently has made her appearance. (HIS appearance? What gender is beer?)

I had promised to roll out the last cask of Tanninbomb, my oak-aged old ale, on St. Patrick's Day. This is cask number eight out of eight, and has survived over six months with 2 oz. of oak chips drifting about aimlessly in the firkin. ABV is 6.2%, prior to casking. I wonder what it is now.

Anyway, I tapped it a bit before the appointed date so my sister could taste it on her visit before she left to go back to NY. Yep. That's the reason; so my sister could taste it. I might've had a wee dram myself just for history's sake.

It is delicious. Another nameless individual, being a pub member, had a sample last night during Scrabble madness from the unmarked pump handle and made the comment that the flavor was flirting with the qualities of a liquor. This has caused me, nay, even forced me, to have another sample while I write this blog entry.

I wonder how long it will last. I estimate that there are about 60 to 65 imperial pints left in the firkin. While it is a Tuesday night, which are generally slow, I will be curious to see if there will be a statistically significant draw.

So why the two bottles in the picture? It is because I was shamed into bottling some for posterity, and also for additional incentive to someday return to Cumbria when I am, for the first time in my life, flush with cash.

Muscles Flexed at the Firkin Fest

2009-03-11T18:13:00.000-07:00

It's big beers again; I have to admit to being a little disappointed. Not that the beers listed aren't going to be any good - I'm sure they will be spectacular mostly - but whatever happened to subtlety in this country? What I'm talking about is the Oregon Brewers Guild Firkin Fest 2009 in Portland next weekend. It was nice that I was asked to participate, since this is what I do - authentic British cask-conditioned real ale, liberated naturally from 9 UK gallon firkins.

Check out the list. It's all typical big muscle stuff that we've come to expect from the Pacific Northwest, and this comes across to this ale snob as out of balance. Let's be different, but not just for difference's sake but for the sake of authenticity and variety. Not only are we the only participants with ABV's below 5%, but we get to bring two (!) casks. Other differences that I hope will become apparent to the punters is that the owner and brewer is serving (instead of volunteers), and that beer engines with <gasp> sparklers will be employed. This will be a lot of fun. I haven't had a day off since the 19th of January, so I'm due for a little breather away from the daily spectacle.

But, alas, subtlety. Sigh. I had hopes for a nice pint of a dark mild, or a fruity bitter, or a simple porter that doesn't have to posture about with a mocha-laden 5.2% ABV. I think I'm due for a trip back to England - anyone want to run the pub for a few weeks?

I've Been Thinking

2009-03-04T16:29:00.000-08:00

Yep. Again. The brain is awhirl. This time with the idea that I might update my website because a) I haven't and b) it sure needs it. But that takes time, of course, and who has that? But if I tinker with it a little it might appear more brilliant, or less not-brilliant. So, I think the News page is going to go away and become my blog instead. Then I can post more stuff on the blog and appear more prolific.

Here is today's news item. The last cask of Tanninbomb, the oak-aged old ale, is going to be tapped on St. Patrick's Day. It will be six months in the cask, with an ABV of 6.2%. Actually, it will be tapped and vented a couple days before, and then made available to the public on St. P's. I will be taking late night sips to make sure it is just right beforehand.