Tomson & Wotton hops in 1893

Time now for the other main ingredient: hops. 

The first thing that strikes me is that all but one of the hops are English. Which, at this point, was quite unusual. With the UK importing massive quantities of hops from all over the world. “But the brewery was based in Kent, the hop garden of England” you might say. Except most of the hops used come from Worcestershire, not Kent.

Other than X and AK, none of the beers has more than one type of hop. Which is unusual. Brewers mostly used multiple types of hops – three or four, typically – to smooth out any changes when supplies of one type of hop ran out and needed to be replaced.

Most on the hops employed are relatively fresh, from the most recent season or the one before. The exception being the East Kent hops used in X, which are five years old. It’s by no means unusual for hops several years old to find their way. But five years is a bit excessive. For English hops. Not so odd with American hops, with their higher alpha acid content and unwanted flavour.

All the Pale Ales are dry hopped. Always with Worcester hops. Mostly in quite modest quantities. Other than AKK which has a massive 2 lbs per barrel. Only slightly less than the quantity of copper hops.

Tomson & Wotton hops in 1893
Beer	Style	hop 1	hop 2	dry hops	dry hops (oz / barrel)
X	Mild	EK 1888	Californian 1891		0.00
AK	Pale Ale	EK 1892	Wor 1893	Wor 1892	2.00
AK (Stock)	Pale Ale	Wor 1892		Wor 1892	4.00
AKK	Pale Ale	Wor 1892		Wor 1892	32.00
KK	Pale Ale	Wor 1892		Wor 1892	4.00
P	Porter	MK 1891			0.00
KKK	Stock Ale	EK 1892		Wor 1892	4.00
Source:
Tomson & Wotton brewing record held at the Kent Archives, document number R/U7/B5.

 

 

Let's Brew - 1891 Peter Walker Imperial Stout

Bit of a funny one today. I have just a single brewing record from Peter Walker. Which someone sent me. Sometime. A few years back. As it's an Imperial Stout, it seemed a shame to waste it.

Brewing Imperial Stout wasn’t just limited to brewers in London. As this example from Peter Walker of Warrington demonstrates.

It’s maybe a couple of degrees lower in gravity. The mix of malts is rather similar, though. Especially the inclusion of amber malt. Which, to me, is the sign of a posh Stout. Roast malts make up almost 25% of the grist. Quite a lot, that. Then again, this is a style that’s meant to be thick and treacly. 

Four types of hops. Bavarian from the 1889 crop, along with two types of English hops from 1888 and one from 1889.

I imagine that the real FG was a good bit lower than the racking gravity that I’ve listed. A Stout this strong would have been aged one or two years, at least. Probably in a smallish vat. Though it could have been in hogsheads, depending on what kit the brewery had. 

1891 Peter Walker Imperial Stout
pale malt	16.50 lb	76.74%
brown malt	2.00 lb	9.30%
black malt	2.00 lb	9.30%
amber malt	1.00 lb	4.65%
Fuggles 105 mins	3.25 oz
Hallertau 60 mins	3.25 oz
Goldings 30 mins	3.25 oz
Goldings dry hops	1.00 oz
OG	1092
FG	1033
ABV	7.81
Apparent attenuation	64.13%
IBU	91
SRM	51
Mash at	150º F
Sparge at	190º F
Boil time	105 minutes
pitching temp	61º F
Yeast	Wyeast 1318 London ale III (Boddingtons)

 

Tomson & Wotton grists in 1893

To be honest, it’s not very interesting. The majority of the beers only have a single ingredient in the grist. Pretty dull, right? Just a one type of pale malt.

The only exceptions were X Ale and Porter. With the former having a small amount of sugar. No idea what type of sugar, as there’s nothing specified in the brewing record. Which isn’t unusual for the period.

Most interesting is the Porter. Which has the classic London combination of malts: pale, brown and black. With a very high percentage of brown malt. More, even, than you’d see in a London Porter at the time. Where 10% to 15% was the norm.

There’s also a hefty amount of black malt. Which leaves the proportion of roasted malt at almost 40%. I don’t need to point out that this is a hell of a lot. Resulting in a pretty damn black beer.

Tomson & Wotton grists in 1893
Beer	Style	pale malt	brown malt	black malt	other sugar
X	Mild	95.45%			4.55%
AK	Pale Ale	100.00%
AK (Stock)	Pale Ale	100.00%
AKK	Pale Ale	100.00%
KK	Pale Ale	100.00%
P	Porter	60.61%	30.30%	9.09%
KKK	Stock Ale	100.00%
Source:
Tomson & Wotton brewing record held at the Kent Arrchives, document number R/U7/B5.

 

 

Preliminary archive results

When I'm in archives, I don't spend a huge amount of time analysing documents. There's plenty of time for that later. I just snap away, making sure I take as many photos as possible.

I snapped 29 documents described as brewing books. More than enough material, surely? Well, it's not quite as simple as that.

The good news, is that there were records from more than the two breweries, Fremlin and George Beer & Rigden, that were in my original plan. There was a single brewing book each from two breweries owned by Tomson & Wotton. Both from 1893. And much of the two books in the same handwriting. They also contain most everything I'm interested in and are easy to read..

Not such good news with George Beer & Rigden. Of the twelve documents I photographed, only five are really brewing records. The others are gyle books, which only list the ingredients. Nothing about processes. On the other hand, the actual brewing records are very good, containing all the information I usually plug into my spreadsheet. Unfortunately, only one is for the period I'm interested in, 1880 to 1914.

What about Fremlin? I photographed fourteen volumes. On the upside, all but one are really brewing books. Only the last one, from 1970, is a gyle book. They aren't as complete as the Beer & Rigden records. They really are just brewing books, with no details of the fermentation at all. But it gets worse.

Part of a Fremlin brewing record.

The first five brewing books are in code. And not just the mashing temperatures, which I've seen before. All the numbers are in code. Even the boil time and the gravity. Fucking magic. It makes them just about unusable. Fortunately, the other records are all uncoded. Including three covering 1880 to 1914. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to use those to decode the others. But it will take a load of work. 

Overall, less useful stuff than I'd hoped for. But plenty to be getting on with. And probably 40 to 50 recipes for the book. Which was what I was really after. 

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1893 Tomson & Wotton Porter

The range of beers brewed by Tomson & Wotton is a little odd. At a time when Porter was disappearing from most of England, they continued to brew one. Yet didn't brew a Stout of any description. A style pretty well every other brewery in the UK produced.

Perhaps it was the influence of nearby London that had an impact. But the grist is quite unusual. in that it has a large percentage of brown malt. Making up a quarter of the grist. That about double what you'd find in a London Porter. And the capital was where brown malt retained its popularity. My guess is that this would have tasted quite similar to the Porters brewed in London.

There were two types of hops: East from the 1888 harvest and Californian from 1891. Both types reasonably old, then.

Pretty sure that this was a Runner. So no ageing. 

1893 Tomson & Wotton Porter
pale malt	8.25 lb	67.35%
brown malt	3.00 lb	24.49%
black malt	1.00 lb	8.16%
Cluster 90 mins	1.25 oz
Goldings 60 mins	1.25 oz
Goldings 30 mins	1.25 oz
OG	1050
FG	1016
ABV	4.50
Apparent attenuation	68.00%
IBU	35
SRM	36
Mash at	154º F
Sparge at	180º F
Boil time	90 minutes
pitching temp	62º F
Yeast	Wyeast 1099 Whitbread Ale

 

 

Tomson & Wotton beers in 1893

Some results from my expedition to Maidstone last week. From the one brewing book they hane from Tomson & Wotton.

The range is quite narrow, just seven beers. And two of those are AK. One Mild, four Pale Ales, one Porter and one Stock Ale. No Stout. No Strong Ale, really. And with a very narrow range of gravities: from 1047º and 1062º.

I know that there really were two beers sold as AK, because I've seen it in an advert. Which is also how I know that KK was a Palae Ale.

The gravities aren't that different from London. The Mild is a bit weaker, but the Pale Ales cover a similar range of gravities and the Porter is about the same.

It's a similar story with the hopping rates, which are very similar to those in London. 7 lbs per quarter (336 lbs) of malt for Mild, 11 lbs per quarter for a strong Pale ale.

The rate of attenuation isn't great, only 76% at best. Though I'm not 100% that it's the racking gravity. The true FG could be lower.

Tomson & Wotton beers in 1893
Beer	Style	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	lbs hops/ qtr	hops lb/brl
X	Mild	1052.2	1016.1	4.77	69.20%	7.00	1.40
AK	Pale Ale	1046.9	1016.1	4.08	65.74%	9.00	1.71
AK (Stock)	Pale Ale	1051.1	1016.1	4.63	68.55%	9.00	1.71
AKK	Pale Ale	1057.3	1013.9	5.75	75.85%	10.00	2.14
KK	Pale Ale	1059.6	1016.6	5.69	72.13%	10.69	2.37
P	Porter	1051.2	1021.6	3.92	57.82%	6.67	1.49
KKK	Stock Ale	1062.0	1016.6	6.01	73.20%	10.00	2.37
Source:
Tomson & Wotton brewing record held at the Kent Arrchives, document number R/U7/B5.

 

Archiving again

No time to hang around this morning. I rise at 8 AM. Heading down for breakfast a little later.

I paid for the buffet breakfast. Which, for me, is egg, bacon, tomato, toast, coffee and orange juice. Hopefully enough to keep me going for a while. There won’t be much time to eat today.

After I’ve checked out, I embark on the walk to the archives. At least it’s downhill into town. It’s not a huge distance to the archives. But it isn’t the most pleasant walk, alongside a busy dual carriageway that follows the river.

Part way, the pavement disappears on my side of the road. So I have to cross it. Which takes ages, as the lights seem reluctant to change for the benefit of pedestrians. A few hundred metres later the same fun repeats when I need to get back to the other side again. This town seems very dominated by cars.

The Kent Archives are housed in the main library. A bright, modern building. I spend a few minutes on formalities and then off I go. I pre-ordered five volumes and I can get started snapping immediately.

I find it best to enter a trancelike state when doing this stuff. Otherwise, it would be disheartening to contemplate how many hours of drudgery lie ahead.

I have 34 documents in my hit list. At four an hour, I’d get through 24 documents. Which is the minimum I’ll be happy with. Let’s see how it goes.

You’re allowed to hand in three request slips at a time. Whenever you feel like it. By submitting a new set of three slips when I return the penultimate document, I have almost no waiting time. Perfect.

The staff are dead friendly and helpful. When they bring me the wrong document*  by mistake, they quickly fetch the correct one.

I brought along a couple of sarnies for lunch. But I never quite get around to stopping to eat. I’m just in the zone. In a rhythm of collecting documents, snapping, returning and submitting new request slips.

It makes the time go quickly, at least. And my back isn’t aching, as it sometimes does after an hour or two of snapping. That’s a win.

Looking at the clock, I notice that it’s 15:50. Fuck me. Where did the afternoon go? I’ve just time to put in three more slips before the cutoff at 16:00.

I get through the last three brewing books pretty quickly. As I need to be done by 16:30. I’ve a train to catch at 16:59. My ticket is only valid for that train So I’d better not miss it.

I’m leaving from Maidstone East, as it’s closer to the archive. It’s a suburban third-rail service. Not particularly fast. It takes over an hour to get to Victoria. Despite being rush-hour, it’s not that crowded as we’re headed into town.

Unlike the tube. Which is pretty busy. I still get a seat, though. Bit of a wait for a train to Terminal 4 at Kensington South. I arrive in Heathrow at 19:30. And quickly check in. Then pushing-in security. Where . . . my bag is picked out for inspection.

“Do you have cheese in your bag, sir?”

It seems an oddly specific question. Are they worried about cheese smuggling? 

“Yes.” I say, bravely.

The security man has, it seems, other concerns than an illicit dairy trade. He swabs my cheese. And then seems happy.

I think I remember now. Cheese looks the same as plastic explosive in the X-ray images. The palaver takes up valuable minutes.

“Do I want to get duty free?” I ask myself. After much deliberation, I reply “Yes.”

The cheapest malt whisky I can find. 42 quid for a litre. Now where’s the lounge? By gate 10, they said at check-in. While I’m looking, I drop my duty-free bag. The bottle is in a cardboard box. No harm done.

The lounge has moved since I was last here. Oh, look! A self-pour bar. I sloosh out about a quadruple or so whisky. 

I haven’t even had chance to sit down when there’s an announcement. My flight is boarding. Fuck. I quickly down my whisky. Standing up.

Boarding has, indeed, already started. I walk straight onto the plane.

When I put my bags in the overhead locker, I notice something. A smell of whisky. And a jangly, broken glass noise. Fuck. The bottle did smash when I dropped it. Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck.

The flight isn’t very full. And is just up and down, really. 

We left a bit early. But it’s still getting on for 23:00 when we disembark.

At least I’ve no luggage. It is quite a walk from the gate, though. Through a deserted landscape of closed shops. I dump my dripping duty-free bag in the first bin I come across.

The only place that isn’t empty is passport control. Where the electronic gates aren’t in use. Great. Just when I get to the front of the queue, they open them up. The fuckers.

A taxi gets me home well before midnight. It’s too late for tea. And Dolores is already in bed. Alexei, too. Andrew is up, obviously. Sadly, I’ve no whisky for a nightcap.

I managed to photograph 30 documents in total. Taking just over 1,300 photos. That’s a photo every 17 seconds or so. Not bad. Though it will take rather longer to process all those pictures.
 

 

* Which turned out to be interesting. A square book from Whitbread’s brewery in Wateringbury from 1963-64. A brewery I have very little information about. Other than it brewed bottled beer for export. 

Flying again

“Are you crazy? Another trip?”

“Yes, Dolores. I need the XP points.”

“What?”

“With KLM. I need three more XP points to keep my gold status.”

“You’re travelling just for that?”

“And to get some research in. I’m going to an archive.”

I wouldn’t want to miss the chance to photograph some more brewing records. I can never have too many of those. In particular. Records from the period 1880 to 1914. For the book I’m currently writing.

It’s not going to be a long trip. I won’t be in the UK for much over 24 hours. And six of those will be in the archive.

With my flight not until 4 PM, it’s a fairly relaxed start. Which is how I prefer it. There’s no-one to wave me off when I leave. Dolores and Alexei are at work. Andrew is still in bed.

There’s a lot of car traffic at Schiphol. Which has me worrying a bit. Needlessly. It’s pretty quiet at both security and passport control. No duty-free today. So it’s straight to the lounge.

Where it’s whisky time again. I’m loath to break with tradition. Brace of whiskies it is.

The last few times I’ve been in the KLM non-Schengen lounge, the warm food hasn’t been bad. Much better than the slop on their planes. Today the trend continues with zuurvlees. A tasty stew.

I shouldn’t have to far to walk. E is one of the closest piers to the lounge. And the display says that it’s a 3-minute walk to the gate. Wary of what happened last time, I head for the gate 40 minutes before the departure time.

Checking the gate hasn’t changed on my way to E pier, the display now says it’s a 12-minute walk. Best not doddle.

I really like the way that the one gate where you’re taken by bus to your plane, is right at the end of the pier. You walk all the way there, just to get on a bus. Perfect.

The flight is full, but thankfully short. With no checked luggage, I’m free as soon as I get through immigration. Which is just a short 10 km walk down a dingy corridor away. A really dismal welcome to the country.

St. Pancras is a long way by tube. About an hour. Always fun with luggage. As the carriage gets fuller and fuller the closer you get to central London. Luckily, I’ve only a small rucksack today.

I realise that I haven’t told you where I’m headed. Maidstone. And the Kent archives. I spent some time looking for regional archives. Preferably, where there were records from multiple breweries. And that I could get to relatively easily.

Kent Archives in Maidstone, turns out to have long sets from both Fremlin and George Beer & Rigden. Plus a couple of other things.

Because getting there from London by train isn’t difficult, Maidstone seems an easy destination to reach. It takes about 2.5 hours from Heathrow to Maidstone. On a tube and then two overground trains.

The first train, a fast Javelin, is packed when we leave St. Pancras. The second, a clanky suburban train from Strood, is much quieter.

I’ve come to Maidstone West station because it’s closer to my hotel than Maidstone East. Sadly, it’s uphill. And I really can’t be doing with hills. Especially with luggage, however light that might be.

My original plan was to hit Spoons and Tesco. But I’m feeling a bit knacked. Just Tesco, then. By Uber. What could be simpler?

Lots, it turns out. Uber keeps giving me stupid pickup points. Then can’t find me a driver. Eventually, one does roll up.

Loaded up with crisps, sandwiches and hotel whisky, it’s time to try my luck with Uber again. A 25-minute wait. What a fucking joke. I could walk it quicker than that. So I do. Remembering that I saw a couple of pubs on the way.

The first, the Royal Albion looks deserted. When I get to the door, I understand why. It’s closed. Despite all the lights being on inside.

Drakes, the other pub on the way, is open. And has Harveys Best. Unfortunately, there’s also a jam session. Which I fear is going to damage my hearing. The only way to get away from it, is to leave. After just one pint.

Up the hill to my hotel. Walking along the busy main roads. Fuck there’s a lot of cars here. They make walking such fun.

The hotel doesn’t have ITV +1. I only catch the last 10 minutes of Latvia against England. Damn.

Still, there is the hotel whisky to put me to sleep.



Drakes
9 Fairmeadow, 
Maidstone ME14 1JP.
https://drakescorkandcaskmaidstone.co.uk/
 

Let's Brew - 1893 Tomson & Wotton X

Here are the first results of my jaunt to Maidstone during the week. The Kent Archives have one Tomson and Wotton brewing book. A personal notebook rather than the official brewing record. Pretty complete information, though.

A provincial Mild Ale here. But not too far from London. And that seems to be reflected in the strength. As this is closer to a London X Ale than Adnams X Ale.

As with most Milds of this period, there’s not much to the recipe. Just one type of base malt and a dash of sugar. No description of the sugar. So I’ve guessed No. 2 invert, as usual. And that’s it.

What about hops? Two types: East Kent from the 1888 harvest and Californian from 1891. Fairly old, then.

No dry hopping, but there was another addition. It says in the log: "mixed in 4.75 barrels of O.A." into the 91 barrels of Mild. I take the O.A. to be Old Ale. An interesting case of blending. 

1893 Tomson & Wotton X
pale malt	11.00 lb	95.65%
No. 2 invert sugar	0.50 lb	4.35%
Cluster 90 mins	1.00 oz
Goldings 60 mins	1.00 oz
Goldings 30 mins	1.00 oz
Goldings dry hops	0.50 oz
OG	1050
FG	1014
ABV	4.76
Apparent attenuation	72.00%
IBU	44
SRM	6
Mash at	152º F
Sparge at	180º F
Boil time	90 minutes
pitching temp	60º F
Yeast	Wyeast 1099 Whitbread ale

 

Bounding home

I get up at eight. Want to be in plenty of time for the bus, which is at 9:30 AM.

Not quite the same breakfast this morning. There’s the egg, bacon, bread and orange juice. But no coffee. With a 3-hour bus journey, I don’t want to be putting diuretics into my body.

Matt comes over for a chat while I’m eating. It’s been good seeing him again. We always have loads to talk about.

The coach sets off just a little late. The weather is good: Sunny and no wind. Making the landscape even more stunningly beautiful. Some of the water we pass is dead still, perfectly mirroring the mountains behind it. 

We’re in sight of water most of the journey. Except when we’re in one of the many tunnels. The road mostly hugs a shoreline. Using a thin strip of relatively flat land between water and mountain.

Occasionally, we pass through a small town, strung out along a shore. Always with a marina. Sometimes with a small ferry port.

The mountains step back towards the horizon, Sometimes, with sheer rock cliff faces, at others with steep, wooded slopes. Brown where silver birch predominate, deep green where conifers rule.

A bit over half way, we roll onto a ferry. It’s quite handy, really. As I could do with a piss. Some of the others get pancakes. Which, as I learned yesterday, is what you eat on Norwegian ferries.

It’s a bit chilly out on deck. The views are amazing, though. Several other ferries are trundling over the water. With, of course, hulking mountains behind them.

We roll up at the airport a little after noon.  And my flight isn’t until 16:50. Lots of time to kill.

“Is there a lounge” I ask, hopefully, after checking in my bag.

“No.”

Bum. Four hours to kill and no lounge. There is an Irish pub. I make my way there.

I order a pint of Guinness and a double Jamesons. It comes to over 400 crowns (35 euros). Fuck me, that’s steep. No speedy drinking today. The server gets two whiskey glasses.

“I only ordered one whiskey.” I point out.

“We have to serve each shot separately. It’s the law.”

As soon as the glasses are handed to me, I consolidate the whiskies into a single glass. What the fuck was the point in that?

Manchester United against Sunderland is on the TV. Thankfully, the Mackem bastards are losing.

Time drags a bit as I eke out my pint. Which isn’t that bad. Not being too cold, there’s actually some roast malt flavour.

The next game is Newcastle against Forest. When Newcastle score, I get another double Jamesons to celebrate. Well, two singles.

My flight has been delayed by 20 minutes. Great. Even longer to hang around.

About 30 minutes before the new departure time, I wander to the gate. Pausing only to buy a sarnie. A bargain at 110 crowns (9.50 euros).

Upstairs at the gate there’s also a bar. Time for one last cheap drink.

“A double Jamesons, no ice, please.” I ask the young girl serving.

“Sorry, I’m not allowed to serve that. And I’m the only one working today.”

What the fuck? I start to walk away, then turn around.

“Are you allowed to serve wine?”

“Yes, I can serve beer and wine.”

“I’ll have a wine, then.”

“Which one?”

“The cheapest.”

“Large or small.”

Without hesitation I say: “Large.”

At the gate I bump into Christina Wade and a German festival-attendee. And we chat until boarding begins.

The flight is uneventful and short, just 90 minutes. As they’re trying to catch up time. We land at 7 PM.

Being Schengen, there’s no passport control. It’s straight to baggage. Where I don’t have to wait too long for my bag.

After which there’s a short taxi ride home. I walk through the door at 8. It’s been a long day.

Dolores has tea and food waiting for me. 

Some Munich Methods of Fermentation

The Brewers' Journal reprinted quite a lot of technical information from foreign publications. Particularly German ones. Lots of interesting stuff. Such as today's article which looks at fermentation procedures in Munich breweries.

We start with pitching.

Some German Methods of Fermentation.
A general account of the methods adopted in fermenting in Munich breweries is given by N. Klimoff in the Wochenschrift für Brauerei, and the following is an abstract of his paper:—The density of the wort varies according to the nature of the beer and the season of the year from 12.8°—18.6° Bg. In one brewery the yeast is mixed to a paste with three-quarters its volume of wort, and sometimes the whole of it is sown at once into the fermentation vat; at other times, half the former quantity of yeast is allowed to start in a little wort, and, when fermentation is set up, the main bulk of the wort is added.
The Brewers' Journal vol. 35 1899, June 15th 1899, page 347.

I've read about German brewers in the 19th century using the method of first pitching and starting the fermentation in a small quantity of the wort. Then later adding the bulk of the wort once fermentation had kicked off.

Now it's pitching and fermentation temperatures.

The initial temperature is 4° R [8.75-10º C] , and fermentation lasts from eight to 10 days, the temperature rising about 1°R. [1.25º C] in 24 hours; it is not allowed to rise above 7—8° R. [8.75-10º C] , but is again reduced to 4°—5° R [5-6.25º C]. When the yeast has been in use for some time it is washed with cold water. Only the middle layers of yeast, separated from each vat, are used for setting up the next, the rest (more than one-half) is sold. 
The Brewers' Journal vol. 35 1899, June 15th 1899, page 347.

That's a pretty cool fermentation. But what you would expect for Lager.

It's the turn of lagering now.

The attenuation varies from 45 to 60 per cent. The beer is cooled to 2° R. [2.5º C], and stored in the lager cellar at 0.S°—1.5° R [0.625-1.875º C]. The time of the different treatments in the cellar varies with the nature of the beer. With summer export beer, 30 days’ storage is allowed before adding shavings for clearing purposes, and 36 days later the lager cask is bunged for another 22 days, after which the beer is filtered and sent out. 
The Brewers' Journal vol. 35 1899, June 15th 1899, page 347.

It would be nice if they said real or apparent attenuation. I suspect that it's real. I know attenuation was poor in Munich, but not quite as bad as 45% apparent.

Summer export beer would have had a fairly short lagering period. But it still adds up to 88 days in total. Or pretty much the classic three months. The bunging would be to carbonate the beer.

Bock beer, after six weeks’ open storage in the cellar is treated with "krausen” in the shape of fresh beer, and the casks are bunged and kept for another three weeks. The density of the different kinds of beer ranges from 1.25° to 2° Bg.; they contain from 3 to 5.9 per cent, of alcohol, and from 6 to 7.3 per cent, of extract, the strongest being bock beer. 
The Brewers' Journal vol. 35 1899, June 15th 1899, page 347.

Was Bock the only beer to be kräusened? I sort of doubt it. Are those alcohol percentages by weight or volume? I suspect weight.

In another brewery only pure cultures of yeast are employed, and a small fermentation of two hectolitres is first set up with one litre of pasty yeast culture. When this is complete the yeast is separated and used in the ordinary fermentations; after being used six or seven times it is replaced by a fresh pure culture. The fermentation is conducted in much the same way as in the former case, and the treatment in the lager cellar only varies slightly. Another brewery cultivates a continuous supply of pure yeast in a Kühle and Hansen’s yeast apparatus and sells it after using it four times.
The Brewers' Journal vol. 35 1899, June 15th 1899, page 347.

I would have expected all the breweries in Munich to be using pure yeast cultures by this point. Well, the large brewers, at least. 

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1903 Binnie 140/- Ale

Strongest of Binnie’s beers was 140/-. Which, although it’s a good bit weaker than William Younger 140/-, I suppose still counts as a Strong/Scotch Ale.

They brewed a surprising amount of 140/-. About as much as they did of any beer.

There’s nothing fancy about the grist. Just base malt. And quite a lot of it. As there’s nothing else to provide fermentable material. And nothing else much to talk about.

Three types of hops of unknown vintage: Kent, American and Bavarian.

Was this aged? Very difficult to say. Maybe. For six months or so. That might explain the high FG.

1903 Binnie 140/- Ale
pale malt	19.25 lb	100.00%
Cluster 90 min	1.50 oz
Hallertau 60 min	1.50 oz
Fuggles 30 min	1.50 oz
Goldings dry hops	1.00 oz
OG	1083
FG	1038
ABV	5.95
Apparent attenuation	54.22%
IBU	51
SRM	6.5
Mash at	154º F
Sparge at	175º F
Boil time	90 minutes
pitching temp	61º F
Yeast	WLP028 Edinburgh Ale

1970s brewing

In case you missed it on Boak & Bailey's blog, here's a wonderful film from 1974 showing how they worked at Hook Norton.

 I doubt things have changed very much there. It's very much how they operate at Harveys, too.

 

All day festing

I rise at 8:40 and go straight for breakfast.

It's the same as yesterday: fried egg, bacon, orange juice and coffee. Followed by fruit. Everything I need in the morning.

There aren’t that many other festival-goers in the breakfast room. They’re probably breakfasting later.

Back in my room, I have a bit of a lie down. Before fiddling on the internet a bit. And making myself some cheese and salami sandwiches to eat at the festival. I saw the price of the food they’re selling there. I’d never be able to look Dolores in the eye again if I paid that much for nosh.

The festival starts at noon today. I set off a little after that and roll up about half an hour after that. 

It’s still pretty quiet when I arrive. Am I here too early? I may as well get stuck into some beers. Starting with stands I didn’t visit yesterday.

I begin with several of the local “Raw Ales”. Ones brewed the way I saw yesterday, where the wort isn’t boiled. When they use hops – which isn’t always the case – they either make a hop tea separately or run the wort off over a bag of hops (as I saw yesterday).

They’re stronger than I expected. Mostly in the range of 6% - 8% ABV. (Though I suspect there’s only a vague estimate of strength, given the way many brew.). With loads of juniper flavour, as the mash water is first boiled with juniper. The quality is, well, variable. The best are surprisingly light and refreshing. 

A brewer explains why not boiling isn’t as infection-prone as you might think. Because kveik is pitched so warm – 30º to 40º C – there’s very little time spent cooling the wort.  Whereas a boiled worts needs a couple of hours to cool down enough to pitch, leaving more time that it can be infected. It sort of makes sense.

I find another Imperial Stout, Svart Hav from Arve Sundnes. A relatively light 15% ABV. It’s another winner. Is it just my personal preference coming out that I love the Imperial Stouts?

I wander by Thor’s stand again. I do like his beers.

“I had a look at your blog. Your books are exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

That’s good to hear.

Not all the traditional beers are raw. In some places they do boil. And really boil, for five or six hours. Even though these are also brewed from 100% pilsner malt they’re much darker. Around the colour of an English Bitter. And quite different to the unboiled beers.

Christina told me about a brewer with a Pliny the Elder clone that sounds interesting. He has three beers and I kick off with the lightest, a pseudo-Pilsner, brewed with kweik. It’s rather nice.

I try the Pliny clone next. Not sure it’s an exact clone. It’s pretty good, though. Packed full of hop flavour. The brewer tells me that he uses a ridiculous quantity of hops to make it. I can believe him.

A few brewers I speak to grow their own hops. None are sure exactly what variety they grow. As often the hops have been there since before their grandfather’s time. Not sure if homegrown hops are enough for all their needs.

For those buying hops, German and Czech types seem the most popular. With the more adventurous plumping for American varietiess.

Finally, it’s the turn of an Imperial Stout aged three months in an oak barrel, Outstanding stuff. Powerful and complex, while still being very drinkable. A really dangerous beer.

I have a chat with Lars. About historical research and the current state of farmhouse beer across Europe. He’s doing really important research into a very much neglected topic. And putting a lot of time and effort into it. It’s very much to be applauded.

Another farmhouse style is smoked. And I mean smoked. The brewers smoke their own malt and use 100% of it in their brews. Not for the faint-hearted. These beers make Schlenkerla seem restrained and subtle. 

I often say that there’s almost nothing genuinely new in beer. That pretty much every “innovation” has, at some time and in some place been done before. But here I found something totally new to me: beer brewed with cheese mould.

I get talking to the brewer, a charming 87-year-old man. Who tells me that the taste reminds him of his childhood, when he would surreptitiously drink his father’s beer.

What of the beer? It’s not as weird as it sounds. While still having a pretty distinctive flavour, which I find hard to describe. Definitely drinkable.

I bump into Matt and we get talking about invert sugar. Which he makes commercially.

“I mostly sell to homebrew stores. Sometimes to brewers.” He tells me. “I sent a sample to one brewer who makes a lot of British styles. Do you know what he said?”

“What?”

“British brewers don’t use sugar.”

“Where the fuck did he get that idea?”

“Beats me.”

“A good case of being confidently incorrect.”

We visit Brølsch Brewery’s stall. Who has an 8% beer. And whale meat snacks.

“Are you going to try the whale, Ron?” Matt asks.

“No.”

“It’s very smooth. Almost like pâté.”

“Still not tempting me.”

Having been told that his beers are good, I wander across to the captain’s (Andre Kragset) stall. I’ll call it that because the brewer is wearing a full captain’s uniform. And the stall is like the front of a boat. He even has an engine noise playing in the background.

His beers are, indeed, rather good. And, to accompany them, he has pancakes. With loads of butter and sugar. Apparently, this is what you eat on Norwegian ferries. Which is the experience he’s trying to replicate.

He’s another brewer who’s very interested in British styles. In his case, ESB in particular. I mention that I have lots of Fuller’s brewing records.

“Could you send me an ESB recipe?”

“Sure.” I give him my card.

At 7 PM Christina is talking. About Vikings in Ireland and their use of beer. It’s all new to me, being well before the earliest period I’m comfortable with. Fascinating, if, at times, rather brutal.

When it’s done, the homebrew part of the festival is about to close. I decide to call it a day. I’m not so interested in the commercial part. I’ll have to start paying for beer, too. And I’m feeling knacked, having been here over seven hours.

I finish off my duty-free whisky as I watch some YouTube. Sleeping isn’t a struggle.