2 Daves

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.

Way Too Calm Around Here

I suppose everyone is home now doing their last minute voting. Oregon has some interesting laws: you can't pump your own gas, there's no sales tax, and you get to vote by mail. This last one, I'm convinced, is what is keeping people at home, instead of patronizing their local. While the voters' pamphlets and ballots were mailed out weeks ago, many of us (I'm convinced) have just filled it out this morning over a pot of tea and some eggs and B.

I did. Well, I had coffee. Good coffee.

I've seen numerous stories in the press about pre- and post-election anxiety. This particular form of anxiety is described as "gripping" people, like some sort of industrial-grade adhesive, or a robot homunculus with it's frenzied oversized fists. But for me, it's not the State or National elections that are the concern. I'm more interested in the outcome of the local City Council, for which I'm not eligible to vote as I live outside the city limits. It will be the results of this contest that may have the most impact on local jobs, quality of life and overall civic demeanor. And I don't see how propping oneself up in front of the tube day in and day out watching CNN is going to make any whiff of difference.

They say that in periods of recession and times of national disquiet, people consume more beer. But bits of folding money are also a factor, and it's up to the president to fix that, or so they say. I think it's up to individuals exercising their personal responsibility. And their personal responsibility also extends towards supporting their local brewery.

I'm still waiting out that new IPA I put on this weekend. I think the strange odor is coming from the yeast - some sort of esters that need to mingle with the other beer molecules for a few more days. Perhaps it might be a fitting post-election brew.

Pesky Finings

The post-24-hour-stillage tasting produced a pint of a somewhat cloudy offering that smelt a bit like fish guts. I either messed up the finings and adjunct, or am pulling a bit out of the yeast bed. I drew another right now and am working through the rigors of a proper investigation. I suspect that with a 5.8% IPA, I might need to cellar it a bit more to bring it to maturation.

After a few more pints, though, I might be delving into the meat of the cask where better results are to be found. Stay tuned.