Let's Brew Wednesday - 1868 William Younger DBS

Time for another Scottish recipe. Especially as I forgot to post a recipe last week. Apologies for that. A pure oversight on my part. Though the extra Saturday recipes I threw in mean I’ve still averaged more than one a week so far.

Though Scottish brewers all made Porter and Stout, it was never as important a product as for many of their English colleagues. Especially those in London. William Younger had three: Porter, Bottling Porter and DBS. The first two were both pretty weak, 1041º and 1046º, respectively. All three were brewed in small quantities,  far less than most of their Scottish Ales, Strong Ales and Pale Ales.

I assume this was for a combination of factors. A limited market in Scotland for Stout. But also what they could sell in export markets. Scottish brewers were famous for Strong Ales and Pale Ales and these were what they sold to England and beyond. While in these markets London and Irish brewers controlled the Stout trade.

The grist is very different to a London Stout. There’s no brown malt, something that appeared in every London Porter and Stout from the 18th century to the 1970’s. But there is amber malt, something you mostly only saw in the better quality London Stouts. Whereas Irish Stouts were usually just pale and black malt.

Younger DBS is also weaker than London Stouts of the period. Truman’s weakest Stout, Running Stout, had an OG of 1070º. Whitbread’s, SS, an OG of 1082º. Barclay Perkins BSt 1089º.

But there’s one thing that makes this brew very special. It also appears in the personal brewing book of Carl Jacobsen, son of Carlsberg’s founder. A couple of years later he was brewing his own beer called DBS back in Copenhagen. With an OG of 1077º, his was a bit stronger than Younger’s. And the grist was a little different:

2 pale
9 amber
1 patent
3 brown

Quaint that Jacobsen still listed the grain quantity in Imperial quarters. I was more shocked to see that even in 1932 Carlsberg Porter, the successor to DBS, still contained 21% brown malt. Who would have expected that?

Nothing left but the recipe itself . . .

1868 William Younger DBS
pale malt	12.25 lb	81.67%
amber malt	1.75 lb	11.67%
black malt	1.00 lb	6.67%
Poperinge 90 min	2.75 oz
Goldings 60 min	2.50 oz
Saaz 20 min	2.50 oz
OG	1062
FG	1014
ABV	6.35
Apparent attenuation	77.42%
IBU	85
SRM	31
Mash at	150º F
Sparge at	185º F
Boil time	120 minutes
pitching temp	62º F
Yeast	WLP028 Edinburgh Ale

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Barclay Perkins Bookstore

Random Dutch (beers part twenty-three)

The calendar is telling me it's Spring. As are the shops: I spotted thres Lente (Sprong) Boks this morning in Dirk's Trousers*. Seems like a good idea to give them the old taste test. Or whatever these posts are.

But first a word about blogging. Boak & Bailey mentioned what an absolute no-no blogging about blogging was. Which immediately prompted me to have a go at it. Yes, I really am like a nine year old in many ways.

It's early Saturday afternoon and I'm sitting at my computer trying not to get distracted by all the flowering bulbs in the patch of mud and moss we call our lawn. Saturday is a good time for me to blog. Plenty of time. And I'm not knacked, as I usually am in the evening.  Of course, in insisting on posting every day, I've created not so much a rod as nailed myself to the floor.

This won't be the only post I write today. My Saturday goal is three or four. Enough to keep the pressure off at the start of next week. Once I've a couple of beers in me, I'll start on the next instalment of my trip report. The words flow more freely when oiled a little.

Erm. Reading that back, I can see Boak & Bailey's point. Deathly dull, isn't it? Much like most of my life. It's not half as exciting as you might imagine. Mostly it's boredom and stress. I've got a couple of trips that still need organising and booking. An article I haven't started due in a week. Recipes for a few collaboration beers that I need to write. Expense forms to fill in. Invoices to write. Non-stop glamour, really.

Enough of that bollocks. Time to get on with the beer reviews sketches. Oh, one last thing. For an article I'm writing, I needed a couple of quotes that I knew I'd blogged. Another reason posting every day is a pain: I've notched up more than 4,000 posts since I started in 2007. Finding one specific post is quite a problem. Tracking down two is even harder. It took me most of the morning.

Right, I really am starting the beer description rubbish now.

Grolsch Lente Bok 6.5% ABV
Crystal clear and an attractive shade of pale gold. Slightly perfumed smell, but little aroma, really. Sweet and fruity in the mouth. With a little bitterness and hop flavour on the back end. At least it asm't ridiculously sweet like their Autumn Bok. A little too sweet for my taste, but reasonably balanced. I'd drink it again.

Lente Bok is a relatively recent tradition, only really kicking off in the 1990's. Though I know from labels the at there were occasional Meiboks in the past. It's still nothing as big as Herfst (Autumn) Bok. All the older breweries and many of the recent crop brew a Bok in the Autumn. There's a much smaller field in the Spring.

Brand Lentebock 6.5% ABV
I'm not sure if this is correct, but I seem to remember Brand's being the first Lente Bok. Though then it was called Mei Bock. I wonder what was behind the name change? Extending it's selling season, perhaps. It looks very much like the Grolsch version. But it has more aroma: grass, cloves and a bit of fruit. Like a classy aftershave. The taste is similar to the aroma. I wonder where the clove flavour comes from? Not as sweet and much more characterful than the Grolsch.

Just checked their website. It has some handy details:

OG:	16º Plato
ABV:	6.5 Vol.%
Bitterness:	24 EBE
fermentation:	top fermenting
colour:	15 EBC

Guess the top-fermenting yeast is where the clove comes from. I'm slightly surprised by that. Brand is a Lager brewery and this style is usually bottom fermented.

Hertog Jan Lentebock 7.2% ABV
Looks the same as the others. Interesting - this one smells of clove, too. Seems thinner than the others. Maybe it's attenuated more. The flavours jar a bit. Saccharine sweetness followed by a harsh bitterness. My least favourite of the three. Their website tells me it's top-fermented.

"Mmm. Quite nice." is Dolores's opinion "But I couldn't drink much of it."

There's another post bashed out. And it's not even three o'clock. Plus I've had an idea for another post. A nice, easy, quick one.





* Supermarket Dirk van den Broek.

Albany New York State Museum

I awake feeling slightly less knacked. Slightly. Let’s see if a fry up in the hotel will boost my energy. Failing that, coffee might jerk me into action.

It’s not much of a drive today. Just around the corner, really. To the New York State Museum where Craig works.

He drops me off in the library, where I’m planning on doing a little research. I decide to take a look at a pamphlet published in New York City in 1860 entitled “Sunday Theatres Sacred Concerts and Beer-Gardens”. It’s a clumsily racist work attacking German immigrants for having fun on a Sunday. A reminder that there have always been miserable killjoys, mostly of a religious persuasion.

I spend the morning reading and photographing it. I feel right at home in an archive. It’s become my natural habitat.

Craig picks me up at lunchtime and we walk to Hill Street Café for a beer and a bite. It’s yet another place with an impressive beer selection. Especially considering how small it is. Twenty draughts in total. I eat Quesadillas. Don’t want anything too heavy.

When we’re done eating, Craig takes me around the museum. The oldest state museum in the US, apparently. I’m dead into history, as you might have noticed. And maps, which is lucky as they’ve some good ones of New York City. I can stare at maps for hours.

Craig takes me to his office to meet a few people. And the geology department to look at the bendy rock, which is one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen. Heavy and hard like you’d expect, but bendy. The bloke in charge shows us some more unusual rocks, which is fun.

Before heading over to Craig’s for dinner, we stop by Lionheart again for a few beers. I can see why it’s Craig’s local. Good atmosphere, good beer, $3 pints during happy hour.

It’s nice to finally meet Craig’s family. But there is one slight problem:

“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”

“Er, yes. Very. I basically stop breathing. But I’m OK for an hour or two”

The evening ends quite early. I’m in my hotel before 9 PM. Still breathing, which is a big plus.

I take Mr Laphroaig for a final spin before slumping onto my bed.

Tomorrow is another travel day. Train to New York Penn Station, then a connection on to Washington DC. Nothing too strenuous.




New York State Museum
222 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12230.
Tel: +1 518-474-5877
http://www.nysm.nysed.gov/


Hill Street Cafe
180 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12202.
Tel: +1 518-462-3544
http://www.hill-street-cafe.com/


Lionheart Pub
448 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12208.
Tel: +1 518-436-9530
http://thelionheartpub.com/

Bottled beer in the 1950’s – Bright Bottled Beers (part twelve)

It’s hard to remember where I’ve got to in all these endless series. About time for another instalment.

I’m sure you’re all just dying to learn more about kieselguhr filters and their use in the 1950’s. No? What is wrong with you people?

Let’s start with the construction of a kieselguhr filter:

“The kieselguhr filter is of a different construction. In one form it consists of a series of metal discs with central holes, stacked together to form a sort of candle. Small projections upon the sides of the discs result in the formation of very narrow channels between the outer edges of the discs and the edges at the hole. A number of these candles are housed in a totally enclosed cylinder. A definite amount of kieselguhr is mixed to a slurry with beer automatically in a mixing chamber and the mixture is forced edgewise through the discs from their periphery to the centre hole. The kieselguhr builds up in the small interstices between the discs, thus forming an efficient filter. The beer is circulated through the discs until it issues bright and then passes forward in the usual way. Different grades of kieselguhr are available to give either rough or polishing filtration as required.”
"Brewing Theory and Practice" by E. J. Jeffery, 1956, page 343.

That slurry of kieselguhr and beer sounds just lovely.

Searching the internet for kieselguhr, I discovered something even less appetising: that it may be adding arsenic to beer. A researcher at Weihenstephan examined beer for heavy metals and discovered it almost always contained arsenic. He reckons that the source is the kieselguhr used for filtration.

http://www.rsc.org/chemistryworld/2013/04/filter-kieselguhr-arsenic-beer

Seems like a good reason to stick to unfiltered beer.

Here’s what happened when the filter was filled with sludge:

“When the build up of deposit from the beer has clogged the filter, the beer is cut off and the filter mass can be readily removed by back-washing with hot water. A fresh filter mass can soon be deposited and filtration commenced again with very little interruption or the process. Different commercial plants have various ways of building up the filter mass, but the principle is the same. Usually the used kieselguhr is thrown away, but suggestions have been made for washing it in hot water or dilute caustic soda to dissolve the beer deposit so that it can be re-used. The most effective use of the earth filter is probably as a roughing filter followed by a plate filter as polisher. Thereby the advantages of the earth filter in dealing with a considerable amount of coarse deposit are combined with the probably greater effectiveness of the plate filter for sterile filtration. A very recent development in filter mediums is the production of a porous sheet made by a special process from polyvinyl chloride (P.V.C.). The sheet is very thin (like paper) but extremely tough, and filtration occurs mainly on the surface and not in the interior channels as in the more usual filter sheets. Consequently the deposit can be washed off and the life of the sheet is claimed to be very long. By the use of special gaskets it can be used in some filter presses originally designed for normal thick sheet filters. There has been little opportunity yet to try it out extensively, but preliminary trials have been very encouraging.”
"Brewing Theory and Practice" by E. J. Jeffery, 1956, pages 343 - 344.

Sounds very simple. Wash out the sludge with hot water and add another batch of the beer and kieselguhr slurry. Is it worthwhile washing kieselguhr? If there isn’t a huge amount used every time, unless it was very expensive stuff, I can’t see that it would be worth the trouble of washing it.

Using two different types of filters for rough filtering a polishing seems to make sense in practical terms. I wonder if people still do that? A quick look in Briggs reveals that the use of two filters is not recommended:

"Views vary considerably on the relative advantages of different types of filter. It is difficult to draw firm conclusions but some principles emerge. To avoid losses and to avoid oxygen pick-up, single pass filtration should be used wherever possible. On this basis powder filtration is usually regarded as being superior to sheet filtration."
"Brewing Science and Practice" by Dennis E. Briggs, Chris A. Boulton, Peter A. Brookes and Roger Stevens, 2000, page 581.

Though both plate filters and kieselguhr filters are still in use:

"Different mechanisms of filtration can be used:

· Sieving or surface filtration in which the particles are trapped in pores in the filter medium and retained in a layer. Filtration quality improves with time but the volume flow decreases continuously.

· Depth filtration in which a separation medium, e.g., kieselguhr is used on a support and which causes the particles in the beer to take a very elongated route through a large surface area. The particles are retained by mechanical sieving because of size and will gradually block the pores in the medium and so reduce flow rate and the particles can also be retained by adsorption as a result of electrical charge effects."

"Brewing Science and Practice" by Dennis E. Briggs, Chris A. Boulton, Peter A. Brookes and Roger Stevens, 2000, page 575.

Kieselguhr sounds like pretty nasty stuff. Not sure I’d want it in my brewery:

"However this substance is classified as highly dangerous when inhaled and can give rise to the disease of silicosis. Equipment is needed for automatic slitting of bags and transfer to slurry tanks to avoid manual handling. Uncalcined kieselguhr, prepared by drying at 400ºC (750ºF) represents only a moderate risk and is now usually preferred. However, some uncalcined kieselguhr can contain traces of iron and other metals."
"Brewing Science and Practice" by Dennis E. Briggs, Chris A. Boulton, Peter A. Brookes and Roger Stevens, 2000, page 577.

Finally a mention of centrifuging:

“Centrifuging is also used, mainly on the Continent, instead of filtration, but does not seem to have found much favour in this country.”
"Brewing Theory and Practice" by E. J. Jeffery, 1956, page 344.

Pretty sure that’s no longer true and that centrifuges are now common in the UK.

Still not quite finished with filtration.

Utica (part two)

For lunch we decant to the brewery’s pub, which is on the first floor.

A very attractive, old-fashioned sort of place it is, with dark wooden panelling and an impressive carved bar. The brewery has laid on a buffet of local Italian-ishy food like Utica greens. Craig is well impressed.

“This is real local Utica food. Something else I can annoy Alan with.” Craig says somewhat spitefully.

Fred Matt, the family member currently in charge, joins us for lunch. He’s a friendly, enthusiastic man who is clearly in love with the brewery. You can’t blame him. I’m becoming smitten myself.

Naturally, there’s beer to go with the food. There’s a good selection of Matt’s beer on tap, mostly under the Saranac brand, but there’s also the old favourite Utica Club Pilsener. I go for something IPA-ey. As often is the case when I’m in the US. Unless there’s Mild on offer, obviously. Not that that’s often the case.

After we’ve stuffed our holes, they bring out the old documents that they’ve found. It’s not a huge amount and there are no brewing records. But an inventory record does give away a little about what they were brewing during Prohibition. It lists the stock of various labels during 1931. These are the beers: Pilsener, Wuerzburger, Bock, Brown Stout, India Pale and Export Brew. Wuerzburger, in case you’re wondering, was a sort of Dark Lager. Several breweries seem to have made one.

We venture up into the attic to look at the piles of stuff heaped up there. Furniture, old advertising material, wrecked barrels. All sorts of stuff.

The barrels are particularly interesting. The ones that are falling apart reveal their innards and the function of two enigmatic holes in the head. These lead to a metal coil inside the barrel. Blow me. It’s a sort of in-barrel attemperator. Who would have guessed that?

When we’ve had our fill of the attic, it’s back to look at the remainder of the brewery. We see yet more tanks and more weird old bits of equipment. And the fermenters.

No conicals here, but horizontal oblong fermenters. They used to be open but are now enclosed with stainless steel tops. The danger of CO2 was the main reason for enclosing them. Which is fair enough. CO2 is the biggest killer in a brewery. The historical records are full of sad cases of brewery workers succumbing to suffocation by CO2.

We climb up onto the roof, giving us a wonderful view of the brewery and the town around it. A few years back there was a disastrous fire that destroyed two floors of one of the buildings. They’ve since been removed, leaving the structure two storeys shorter. Fortunately the brewery was able to rise from the ashes.

It’s quite late by the time we finally say our farewells. We’ve spent pretty much the whole day at the brewery. I feel knacked. Must be all that walking up and down stairs.

Back in Albany, we drop off Craig at home then Reed drives me to the Olde English Pub for a meal and a pint. I’m so tired that I knock half of my fried fish onto the floor. Bum.

Reed wants to know what the caramel flavour is at the back of his Fullers ESB.

“It’s the boiled sweet flavour you get when you pasteurise British beer.”

He seems a little disappointed at my explanation.

No need for a Laphroaig eye-closer tonight. I can barely keep them open as I stumble into my room. Exhausted but happy.

Tomorrow I’ve a day in the museum. New York State Museum, where Craig works. Will the fun never end?




The Olde English Pub and Pantry
683 Broadway
Albany, NY 12204

Guinness’s Park Royal Brewery in 1949 – the Cooperage Shops and Refrigerating Plant

It’s taken a while, this series, but the end is in sight. Almost.

We’ve already visited the most interesting bits of the brewery. Well, the bits most are interested in. Me, I have a fascination for the auxiliary bits of a brewery. Like the cooperage shop. And the cooling system.

Breweries of any size repaired – and often made – all their own wooden casks. It made sense, as casks were one of the biggest capital expenditures a brewery made. A brewery like Bass or Guinness owned millions of casks, which needed to be kept in good order and, when necessary, replaced. Landlords weren’t always as careful with casks as they should have been, resulting in damaged or filthy casks.

Making and repairing casks was a labour-intensive business and the cooperage department was often one of the largest in terms of numbers employed.

“The Cooperage Shops.—The cooperage shops are located adjacent to the cask cleansing shed, the machinery and equipment being of more or less standard type. The shops are laid out to cope with all repairs and new casks required for the Park Royal trade.”
Journal of the Institute of Brewing Volume 55, Issue 5, 1949, page 286.

There’s plenty that needs cooling in a brewery. Some of it obvious, like cooling the wort after boiling and before pitching yeast.

“The Refrigerating Plant.—In common with all breweries the demand for cooling facilities at Park Royal is heavy, the maximum demand in summer being of the order of 5,000,000 B.T.U. per hour, occasioned principally by wort and beer cooling.”
Journal of the Institute of Brewing Volume 55, Issue 5, 1949, page 288.

I’ve no idea what 5,000,000 B.T.U. means, but it sounds like a lot. Just cooling the 3,000 barrels of wort produced every day must have taken a fair bit of energy.

They had two different types of cold water, at different temperatures.

“There are two sections of the refrigerating plant, one being the chilled water services at 45° F. for wort and beer cooling, and the other a brine service at 25° F. for yeast and gyle cooling. The machines are CO2 compressors of the high-speed single acting vertical totally-enclosed type. The choice of a CO2 system was made on the grounds that in the event of a leakage it would be less harmful than in an ammonia system, although it was appreciated that its higher vapour-pressure characteristic would require a considerably higher operating pressure—1,300 p.s.i.g., in fact; and also that it would be slightly less efficient from the thermo-dynamic point of view than ammonia.”
Journal of the Institute of Brewing Volume 55, Issue 5, 1949, page 288.

Brine was used in the wort refrigerators or attemperators. Though if you remember, unusually, Guinness’s fermenters weren’t fitted with attemperators.

“The plant for the chilled water services comprises five machines, two of which are capable of eliminating 2,000,000 B.T.U. per hour each when cooling water from 65 to 45° F. with condensing water at 70° F. which is the summer temperature of the direct water. The remaining three machines are capable of eliminating 1,000,000 B.T.U. each under similar conditions. The condensers are of the submerged type, while the evaporators are of the enclosed type, both of steel casings. There is one condenser and three evaporators to each unit. The compressors are direct-coupled to variable-speed motors, those for the large machines being of 200 h.p. and the small machines 100 h.p.”
Journal of the Institute of Brewing Volume 55, Issue 5, 1949, page 288.

I make that a total capacity of 7,000,000 B.T.U., well more than the peak demand of 5,000,000 B.T.U.

Finally, the brine machines.

“The brine machines are similar to the chilled water plant excepting that there are three machines each of 250,000 B.T.U. per hour capacity, direct-coupled to 50 h.p. motors. Each machine, however, has one condenser and one evaporator. Three brine pumps are provided for the circulation of brine to various sections of the brewery. For charging the installation with CO2 gas, a charging station has been erected outside the main engine room which enables six flasks of CO2 to be charged into the plant at the same time. The charging lines are so inter-connected throughout the plant that gas can be drawn from another machine to assist in the charging of another if necessary, so that during overhaul work it is not necessary to lose any gas as it can easily be transferred to one of the other machines.”
Journal of the Institute of Brewing Volume 55, Issue 5, 1949, pages 288 - 289.

They’ve lost me there. Why do you need to charge the installation with CO2? I really don’t understand that.

There’s not much left. And pretty obscure stuff at that. Anyone interested in pipes and valves?

Utica (part one)

An exciting day dawns. First with more bacon and not fewer eggs. Before the real fun begins. We’re off to F.X. Matt.

Craig picks me up and I sit in the back. It’s a while before I realise that it isn’t Alan in front of me but Reed.

“Where’s Alan?” I ask.

“He’s gone back to Canada. He was worried by his credit card not working.” Craig replies.

“And miss out on Matt?”

“Yes, I know. He’ll regret it. Especially when I tell him how wonderful it was.”

As will I. No doubt that it will be wonderful. In exactly which way, I'm not sure. But I'm, convinced it will be.

The drive is longer today, leaving Craig more opportunities to fill me in on the history of New York. No complaints from me. History is sort of my thing.

In Utica, there's a little wandering around in circles. They are ever decreasing, which gives me hope. We spot the big Utica Club sign sitting on top of the brewery and, ignoring the insistent satnav, head that way.

We enter through the shop and are soon in the grand entrance hall. Three people are there to meet us: Damon, the regional sales manager, Steve, the pilot brewer, and Rich, a Quality and Innovation guy.

Soon Ben Keene, editor of BeerAdvocate Magazine arrives. I asked if he wanted to tag along, as he lives not far away. And, if I’m honest, because I wanted to meet him. We’ve worked together a while, but never met. No amount of digital contact matches a few hours in the same room.

A glass-faced cabinet full of old Matt bottles clings to one wall. It soon gets closer attention. There are pre-, post- and Prohibition examples.

Then it’s off down a corridor and up in a lift to the brew house. And a very noble one it is, too. With gleaming copper kettles. But also something not quite so stylish.

“Is that a mash filter?” I ask.

“Yes.”

It’s rather an old one, too. I’ve never seen one of those in use before. They were briefly popular many decades ago. Though not so much in the UK, where most of the older breweries I’ve been around are.


There’s no brewing happening today, as they’re performing maintenance on the brew house. Workmen rather than brewers are clambering around the equipment.

They’ve also a designated cereal cooker for the pre-mash of grits. Not seen one of those before, either. Looks like this is going to be a day of firsts.

After a bit of clambering around, we take a look at the huge malt silos. Outside we can see a railway car that’s delivering malt. Craig photographs it.

“It’s from Canada malt. I’ll send the picture to Alan to annoy him.”

And there’s another first. Never been to a brewery that still had an active railway siding.

This place is a maze. We continue to clamber up and down staircases and wander corridors. Next stop is the pilot brewery. It looks very similar in size and form to the kit at the real McCoy I saw yesterday. Sadly, there’s no beer ready to drink.

“That’s why everyone likes stopping by here,” one of our guides says, “the chance to drink beer. Interesting beer, usually.”

More scrambling around later, we’re in the hop store. I’m heartened to see large quantities of English hops, from Charles Faram.

Next is one of the highlights of the day. We’re taken into the room filled with what they call “Lincoln” tanks. So called because they were installed when Lincoln was president. What? They’ve sat here more than 150 years and are still in use? I’m gobsmacked. I’m pretty sure that’s the oldest equipment I’ve ever seen in use at a brewery. Though they aren’t currently used for beer, but for soft drinks.

There’s room after room of storage tanks. All pretty big horizontal affairs. None of them look very new. In fact everywhere I look there’s weird old bits of machinery, occasionally jarringly punctuated by something shinily new.

There are also closed, derelict rooms, filled with ancient, rusting tanks, the floors deep in mud and other gunk.

Just when I think this is a brewery like no other, I spot what’s become a feature of everywhere I visit: oak barrels. Filled with oak-ageing beer. Oddly, it seems atypically modern.

We visit the sample room, where bottles of every batch are kept for a year or so, in case there are complaints from the trade. It’s easy enough to check if there really were problems with a brew or not.

And with that, it’s time for lunch. With none other than Fred Matt himself. But that’s for next time.

Real Kulmbacher

As promised, a look at a real Kulmbacher. Not just a concoction of pale beer and colouring. Or maybe it isn’t quite that simple.

“A sample of Kulmbacher beer delivered to an Institution was, because of its pale colour, which significantly differed from the beer as previously served, suspected of being watered. The analysis showed:

Specific gravity	1.0262
Alcohol	4.76%
Extract	7.35%
Minerals	0.27%
Nitrogen substance	0.62%
Lactic acid	0.27%
Maltose	2.19%
OG	16.36%
Degree of fermentation	55.07%

It was, therefore, a normally composed, content rich Kulmbacher beer whose pale colour was merely due to the fact that the Kulmbacher breweries no longer colour their beer with sugar colouring since the famous verdict of the  Criminal Court in Bayreuth.”
"Übersicht über die Jahresberichte der öffentlichen Anstalten zur technischen Untersuchung von Nahrung und Genussmitteln im Deutschen Reich für das Jahr 1902" by Kaiserliches Gesundheitsamt, 1905, page 105. (My translation.)

Now isn’t that interesting? Kulmbacher, as we saw last time, was dark. Very dark. Now we know why: they were darkening it with caramel. I’m just trying to work out how that could ever have been OK in Bavaria, where I thought they were pretty strict about the Reinheitsgebot. Evidently not that strict.

I’m just guessing here, but that Bayreuth court decision looks like it was responsible for the rise of Sinamar, the beer-derived, Reinheitsgebot-compliant caramel substitute.

Looking at the specs, that beer would count as a Bock today, with an OG over 16º Balling and around 6% ABV. Though it was pretty typical for a Kulmbacher of the day. As this table demonstrates (our lad is the last one in the table):

Kulmbacher Export 1884 - 1902
Year	Brewer	Beer	Style	Acidity	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation
1884	Aktien-Export-Brauhaus	dunkeles Export	Export Dunkles	0.18	1067.6	1025.9	5.39	61.69%
1884	Export-Brauhaus	Export	Export	0.13	1063.5	1023.0	5.24	63.78%
1884	Unknown	dunkeles Export	Export Dunkles	0.153	1061.9	1024.0	4.90	61.23%
1891	Unknown	dunkeles Exportbier	Export Dunkles	0.137	1065.7	1027.9	4.88	57.53%
1891	Unknown	dunkeles Exportbier	Export Dunkles	0.142	1067.6	1023.0	5.78	65.98%
1893	Aktien-Export-Brauerei	dunkeles Exportbier	Export Dunkles		1076.9	1025.8	6.63	66.45%
1893	Aktien-Export-Brauerei	Monopol-Kulmbacher	Export	0.203	1059.2	1013.1	6.01	77.87%
1902	Unknown	Export	Export Dunkles	0.27	1066.8	1020.2	5.95	69.78%
	Average			0.174	1066.2	1022.9	5.60	65.54%
Sources:
Chemie der menschlichen Nahrungs- und Genussmittel by Joseph König, 1903, pages 1102 - 1156
"Übersicht über die Jahresberichte der öffentlichen Anstalten zur technischen Untersuchung von Nahrung und Genussmitteln im Deutschen Reich für das Jahr 1902" by Kaiserliches Gesundheitsamt, 1905, page 105.

As you can see, the suspicious sample is very close to the average for Kulmbacher Export.

More Kulmbacher or Porter next? It’s so hard to decide.

Albany, Albany

Not quite such an early start today. Our first appointment isn’t that early.

I’m staying in the Hilton in downtown Albany. They do a decent breakfast spread. And I’m a lazy git. So I break fast in my hotel. A bacon and eggy sort of break. Yum.

Craig and Alan pick me up and we pootle over to Delmar, a suburb of Albany. Where there’s a fairly new brewery, The Real McCoy. It’s compact, that’s the word for it. Small but perfectly formed. In fact exactly the sort of brew kit I’d like to have in a shed at the bottom of the garden.

The tasting room – or the front third of the building – isn’t usually open on a Sunday. The owner has opened up especially for us. Which is nice of him. Only downside is that he has no beer. Organise piss-up in and couldn’t come to mind. Luckily there’s a shop open nearby so some beer is bought and consumed. Slightly weird, mind.

Someone who words in Nine Pin, an Albany cidery, drops by. Not sure how he knew they were open or whether he was just randomly wandering the streets. He’s pleasant enough to chat with, as is the owner. A couple of hours drift gently by on a tide of beer and conversation.

Craig suggests we drop by Biergarten, a German-themed place in the centre of Albany. Sounds good to me. But Alan bugs out. Not quite sure why. So it’s just me and Craig who do the German thing.

On the way over, we stop by the former Hickel brewery for a photo opportunity. It’s a fine brick building, now converted into flats. It’s about the only large physical reminder of Albany’s glorious brewing past.

Biergarten is slightly odd, in that it isn’t a garden. Just a cavernous former industrial building kitted out with picnic tables. They’ve several German beers on draught, which I ignore. I’m no more likely to drink German beer in the US than I am to drink US beer in Europe.

There’s a jolly atmosphere, which isn’t harmed by the footie on the telly. There’s also German-style food, but we don’t indulge. Pretzels, Schnitzels and sausage. Andrew would be happy – they have Currywurst.

Pausing only to pick up Alan again, our next stop is Albany Pump Station, a large brew pub in a former pumping station, surprisingly enough. It also calls itself C.H. Evans Brewing Co., taking the name from a brewery that was active in Hudson, NY from 1786 until Prohibition.

It’s a fairly typical of a brewpub in a cavernous industrial space. Somewhat livened up by the presence of C.H. Evans memorabilia. The brewing kit looks a decent size, as you would expect in such a large space.

It’s about time for some balance and we head for El Loco, a Mexican restaurant. Where we stuff our faces for a while. Luckily Lionheart is just over the street. We finish with a few beers there. But don’t stay until too late. Because tomorrow is a big day.

A very big day. We’re getting the VIP treatment at F.X. Matt. I’m so excited. But also knacked, so I’m soon in the land of nod.





The Real McCoy Beer Co.
20 Hallwood Rd.,
Delmar, NY 12054


Wolff's Biergarten
895 Broadway,
Albany, NY 12207.
Tel: +1 518-427-2461
http://www.wolffsbiergarten.com/


Albany Pump Station
19 Quackenbush Square,
Albany, NY 12207.
Tel: +1 518-447-9000
http://www.evansale.com/


El Loco Mexican Cafe
465 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12210.
Tel: +1 518-436-1855
http://www.ellocomexicancafe.com/


Lionheart Pub
448 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12208.
Tel: +1 518-436-9530
http://thelionheartpub.com/

Guinness’s Park Royal Brewery in 1949 – Cask Cleansing and Racking Shed

Back in the days of wooden casks, cleaning them was a big deal. A very big deal. For the obvious reason that all sorts of nastiness could be hiding in the wood.

As in the rest of the brewery, gravity was harnessed to ease moving heavy things around:

“Cask Cleansing and Racking Shed.—The cask cleansing and racking shed is laid out and planned to take advantage of the natural fall of the ground from south to north with the result that casks will roll of their own volition from one machine to another throughout the length of the cleansing and racking bank.”
Journal of the Institute of Brewing Volume 55, Issue 5, 1949, page 285.

Here’s the kit Guinness used for cleaning:

“There are five cleansing lines, each capable of handling 100 hogsheads per hour consisting of:—

(a) An external washer with clamping brushes, the casks being mechanically revolved.

(b) Internal washer of the revolving nozzle type supplied with high-pressure water at 200 p.s.i.g. at 200° F.

(c) A bank of 10 steaming nozzles fed with steam at 5 p.s.i.g. for three minutes per cask.”

Journal of the Institute of Brewing Volume 55, Issue 5, 1949, pages 285 - 286.

So cleaning with both high-pressure water and steam. You had to be very careful.

Five lines each cleaning 100 hogsheads an hour adds up to 4,000 in an eight-hour day. The equivalent of 6,000 barrels, or roughly enough for two days’ worth of brewings. Seems reasonable enough.

Thinking about it, 100 hogsheads an hour is quite a pace. That’s just 36 seconds for each cask. We were way slower than that at Holes. Each keg washer took six kegs at a time, but took 10 minutes to run through the cleaning cycle. About as long as it took to fill 6 kegs, which was how it worked. By the time you’d finished filling the kegs the next lot would be finished washing.

Now on to where the casks finally get filled with the magic stuff:

“Common to the cleansing lines is a cooling floor where the steamed casks stand to "cool off" for 12 hours before passing forward to the rackers. There are four racking machines of standard gravity type, each capable of dealing with 140 hogshead per hour. For checking the capacity of casks coming from the hoop drivers there are two cask-measuring machines which check the net holding capacity by weight of water and which have a dial on which is indicated the variation from the standard weight. The daily routine is that the empty casks are received on the "high" end of the bank where defective hoops are dealt with on the hoop drivers and all casks pass through the line of washing machines in sequence.”
Journal of the Institute of Brewing Volume 55, Issue 5, 1949, page 286.

Over an eight-hour shift, I make that a racking capacity of 4,480 barrels, the equivalent of 6,720 barrels. Which is more than two days’ production.

It’s odd, isn’t it, that beer that was all going to end up bottled was packaged into wooden hogsheads? It’s quite an old-fashioned system, reminiscent of the 19th century, when brewers sent hogsheads out to bottlers. By this point brewers had already started moving bulk beer by tanker, which would seem a much more economical method. I wonder if they primed the casks at all when racking?

Though in areas such as energy conservation, Guinness seems quite modern:

“The necessary hot water for internal cask cleaning nozzles is provided by two steam-heated water heaters, the hot water discharged from the internal-nozzle cleaning machines being collected and re-used on the outside cask washers, thus affecting a useful economy in heat.”
Journal of the Institute of Brewing Volume 55, Issue 5, 1949, page 286.

It was probably the war that prompted that sort of economy with heat and therefore fuel.

The cooperage shop next.

Albany, Troy

The day starts as usual when I’m away. With a plate full of fried things.

Craig is picking me up quite early. Today is Albany’s St. Patrick’s Day parade and lots of streets will be blocked off. He whisks me off to his favourite Greek diner for those fried things I just mentioned. I love old-fashioned diners, me. They make me feel like I’m really in the US.

Fellow blogger Alan Mcleod is coming down from Canada and we head to his hotel to see if he’s arrived yet. He hasn’t. But handily there’s a pub on the ground floor of his hotel. Seems a good enough place to wait. And to have the first beer of the day. A coffee Pale Ale from local brewery Crossroads. It isn’t as awful as it sounds. Not sure I’d have a second one, mind.

I’m halfway down my pint when Alan wanders in, looking much the same as last time I saw him. He joins us in a beer and we discuss the plan for today. Which should see us hold a joint book signing. At least that’s the plan. You never know how these things will work out. I’ve learned to take things as they come.

Our first appointment, however, is at Reed’s home brew shop in Saratoga Springs. Saratoga Zymurgist is its name. Not quite sure what we’ll be doing there. It’s all a bit vague.

As we drive North up the Hudson Valley, Craig tells me a little about the history of the area. Just the sort of thing I like.

Once in Saratoga Springs we struggle to find the shop. It helps when we try looking at the correct address. Inside there are a few people hanging around, looking expectant. Reed then explains that he’s expecting me to speak a little about my book. No problem. Always ready to talk about the book. And having had this sort of thing sprung on me before, I’m always sort of prepared.

After my little talk I manage to flog a couple of books. Result! Only 18 more to go. Books to sell, I mean.

Reed tags along with us as we head back South to Clifton Park and Shmaltz.

Shmaltz has a fairly basic tap room at the front of their brewery. It’s fairly basic, but welcoming enough. We find a seat and start setting out our books. Me and Craig/Alan are both supposed to be giving a short presentation. At least that’s the plan. But nothing seems to have been set up. And the person who was supposed to be organising everything is nowhere to be seen.

“They did try to cancel yesterday.” Craig says helpfully. I’m beginning to see why.

We console ourselves with some beer. From a beer engine, which is even better. The bar is fairly full. But no-one seems very interested in us or our books. What can we do? Nothing. May as well just enjoy the beer.

We get to look at the brewery by tagging along on a tour. It doesn’t take too long. They have all the usual shiny things. Plus the usual wooden things. Some firkins, too.

Finally we admit defeat, pack up our books and leave.  Looking on the bright side, I’ve had a beer in my hand most of the afternoon. So it hasn’t been a total washout.

On our way back to Albany we stop in Troy for food and more beer. Starting in The Ruck, an appropriately raucous>, big boozer, with a good selection of beer and an all-age-groups sort of crowd. It’s rather fun, in a Saturday night out sort of way.

After a couple of drinks we move on. Around the corner (literally) to Rare Form, a fairly recently opened brewpub. A bigger contrast with The Ruck is hard to imagine. There’s no-one over thirty, other than us. And it’s quiet. Quiet to the point of ennui. It doesn’t look like anyone is having much fun.

“Can I have a Porter. NOT the nitro version.” I ask the barman.

“A Porter it is.” He replies.

“Yes, NOT the nitro version.”

He pours me the nitro version. I can’t be arsed to complain.

“Look at the couples,” Alan remarks, “it’s the women in charge in all of them.”

Not sure how he spots that across the room. He’s not very impressed with the uncleaned wooden ceiling, either. With fans merrily spreading whatever muck is lurking there throughout the room. And the Brown Ale he’s ordered is undrinkable. Not his day.

We don’t linger long.

But that isn’t it for the evening. Back in Albany we drop by the Allen Street Pub for a quick one. It has three handpulls, so I took little persuading. As we cradle our pints the owner arrives. Looking like he’s had a long day at the St. Patrick’s Day parade. But he’s a happy friendly drunk, telling us every five minutes how much he likes us. It’s a good place, both physically and mentally, at which to end the day.

More bar and brewery hopping planned tomorrow.



Saratoga Zymurgist
112 Excelsior Ave,
Saratoga Springs, NY 12866
http://saratogaz.com/


Shmaltz
6 Fairchild Square,
Clifton Park, NY 12065.
http://www.shmaltzbrewing.com/


The Ruck
104 3rd St,
Troy, NY 12180.
Tel: +1 518-273-1872
http://www.getrucked.com/


Rare Form Brewing Company
90 Congress St,
Troy, NY 12180.
Tel: +1 518-326-4303
http://www.rareformbrewing.com/


Allen Street Pub
332 S Allen St,
Albany, NY 12208.
Tel: +1 518-526-2455

Bottled beer in the 1950’s – Bright Bottled Beers (part eleven)

Back with filters. This time looking at one of the two types, plate filters, in detail.

Most brewers, it seems, used pairs of plate filters:

“The former type consists of square grooved plates of gun metal or plastic material between which are sandwiched sheets of specially made filter material of about 0.25" thickness. The alternate supporting and filtering plates are assembled on a square frame and are compressed by a helical screw by which they are packed together. A pump is used to force the beer through; usually driven by a separate electric motor. Filter sheets of different pore size are available and generally the filtration takes place in two stages. In the first, sheets of larger pore size are used and serve to take out the bulk of the insoluble matter, the beer after passing through this 'rough' filter goes through closer sheets which take out the fine particles, giving a bright beer. This final stage is known as the 'polishing' stage. The polishing stage could of course, take out the larger particles as well, but in the absence of a 'roughing' stage it would soon become clogged and its useful life would be shortened. The life of these sheets before they become so clogged as to slow down filtration too much depends upon the amount of insoluble matter in the beer, so the more deposit can take place in the cold conditioning tank the better.”
"Brewing Theory and Practice" by E. J. Jeffery, 1956, page 342.

That seems to make sense. Get out all the rough stuff first, then worry about the smaller crap. It seems good brewing practice was still recommended. If you got most of the rubbish out of your beer at the fermentation or conditioning phase, your filters would last longer.

I hadn’t realised they already had sterile filtration this early:

“The 'rougher' and 'polisher' may be separate filter assemblies or they can be combined in one plant, the beer passing successively through both sections. Careful research by the manufacturers of the filter sheets has resulted in grades which produce not only a brilliant beer but one which is virtually sterile, in fact if properly used they can produce beer that will keep free from growth of any organisms for indefinite periods. Possibly a few of the smaller acetobacter may get through but conditions in bottled beer are not favourable to their growth. The wild yeasts and the majority of bacteria are filtered out. Many bottlers rely entirely upon sterile filtration for adequate shelf life for their beers. It is important that the filter itself does not impart any organisms to the beer. For this reason the plant is sterilized before use by passing hot water (180º F.) through die plant and the mains through to the bright beer tank or filter for at least 15 minutes.”
"Brewing Theory and Practice" by E. J. Jeffery, 1956, page 342.

I’m impressed that they had filters capable of leaving beer virtually sterile. That must be a pretty damn fine filter if it’s taking out almost all the bugs. I guess it meant that there was no need to bother pasteurising. If it was already sterile why waste the energy pasteurising?

That you should keep your filters nice and clean seems pretty obvious if you expected the beer to be sterile after filtering.

“After use the filter should be well washed with hot water and then sterilized again before re-use. An important precaution is necessary if the washing water is alkaline or has appreciable temporary hardness, where the beer is run direct from filter to filler. The alkalinity may be adsorbed upon the filter fibres and then given up again to the first beer which is passed through. The operative will reject the first runnings which are obviously diluted with water, until it is obvious that the beer has replaced the water. However, even when the water has been displaced, the first few barrels of beer may have their pH raised considerably with unpleasant results upon their keeping qualities. Therefore the first few barrels should be returned to the bulk in the tank where any alteration of pH will be swamped by the large volume of beer. An extreme instance of this occurred when some dozens of bottles of beer which had first come through the filter had pH values as high as 6 or 7, their flavour was insipid and they acquired a putrid smell on keeping due to growth of bacteria which could not have developed in a beer of normal pH. This difficulty only arises when bottling direct from the filter, as if the beer is returned to a bright beer tank the first few barrels are ipso facto mixed in with the bulk.”
"Brewing Theory and Practice" by E. J. Jeffery, 1956, pages 342 - 343.

That’s in interesting way of rinsing out the cleaning liquid from the filter – run beer through it. Though I’m sure that they’re correct that spread over the whole tank, whatever cleaner residue was left in any one bottle would be negligible. Let’s just hope it wasn’t anything too toxic.

Finally another encouragement of good brewing practice:

“After the passage of several hundred barrels the sheets will become clogged and the throughput will drop, until the pace is too slow to be economical. The pressure of the liquid will tend to rise and a point may be reached where slight local breakdown of the filters occurs, which, even if not sufficient to affect the brightness appreciably, may result in leakage of infective organisms to the detriment of the keeping qualities. It is therefore desirable to ensure as much deposition of insoluble matter as possible in the cold storage tanks, and to use the roughing filter for the removal of the bulk of the insoluble matter still suspended in the beer.”
"Brewing Theory and Practice" by E. J. Jeffery, 1956, page 343.

You might save a little time by rushing beer through the conditioning tanks. But if it meant you had to keep changing your filters, or worse, you bottled beer that wasn’t sterile, it could end up costing you more in the long run.

Kieselguhr filters next time.

Newark, New York, Albany

Routine. It's a way of making travel less stressful. Which is why I indulge in it, when I can.

That's why I'm flying to Newark. I know the airport. And it has a train station. Pretty important, that, as I'm catching a train later. Penn Station to Albany.

Preparation. Another way to lower stress levels. I've a shiny new laptop, noise-cancelling headphones, two issues of Private Eye and a bottle of duty-free Laphroaig. (Bit of a tradition that last one.) Should be enough to keep me entertained over the Atlantic and beyond.

Though it said alcoholic drinks had to be paid for, they're handing out free wine and beer. That's saved me a few quid. The food isn't great. And there isn't much of it. That's what you get flying with a US carrier. And cabin crew close to retirement.

We arrive at Newark a little early. Then there's the bonus of almost no queue at immigration. I'm through so quick, I beat my bag to the carousel. This is amazing. One of my least painful arrivals yet. I tootle along on the monorail to the Amtrak station. Though I won't be taking an Amtrak train. Not yet. My train to Albany isn't for several hours. I'm just taking the New Jersey Transit train to Penn.

I'm not the only one. There’s soon quite a crowd on the platform. Considering the route we're on, there aren't a great number of trains. When one finally trundles in, it's pretty full. Though it is quite new. One of the fancy double-decker jobs. Luckily, I manage to find a seat.

The area around Newark must be one of the most desolate in the US. Rusting factories, marshland with evil-looking brown, scummy water. Empty lots, railway lines and motorway viaducts. Maybe it's deliberate to make New York look nicer, when you finally arrive.

I've deliberately left a few hours between touchdown and train. You never know how long immigration will take. It also gives me chance for a couple of beers in NYC. I consulted Google maps to work out where. Stout and Rattle 'n Hum aren't too far. But I've been to them before. Not that impressed by Stout. Can't stand Rattle 'n Hum. S, I looked for somewhere new, not too far away. I settled on District Tap House.

Just 5 blocks from Penn. And 50 beers on tap. Sounds perfect. I'm a bit puzzled by the name. All becomes clear as I walk those 5 blocks. This is the Garment District. Full of weird little clothing suppliers. I've just slightly too much luggage for the walk to be enjoyable.

District Tap House looks the part. Pubby enough to please, despite rather too many TVs. I settle at the bar and get a pint of something IPA-ey.

I've mentioned on the internet that I'll be here today. A couple of people said they might show up. I wonder if they will? I get some scran while I'm waiting. They really were economical with the nosh on the plane.

After a second IPA I've moved on to an Imperial Stout. That's pretty much the whole spectrum of US beer covered: pale, strong and hoppy and dark, strong and hoppy. Truly a land of diversity.

I glance towards the door and who should walk in but Jim Barnes. Friend of Dann and Martha (formerly of Pretty Things). He's a top man with whom I've shared a couple of sessions. Including a memorable lunchtime in Boston. We're soon chatting away like crazy.

He mentions my music. I sent him a USB stick of my stuff. He actually listened to it. Probably the only person who ever has, other than me.

Jim helps me carry my luggage back to Penn. Now there's a bonus. The long queue at the gate suggests that the train is going to be crowded. Luckily the carriages going to Albany aren't that full. I settle into my seat, whip out my flip-flop and indulge in some Fresh Meat. Series 3, which I still hadn't finished watching. I'm so behind with television. If they stopped making programmes tomorrow, I'd be good for another year or two.

I do give the scenery the odd glance. Leaving New York, the line hugs the Hudson as flats and houses teeter vertiginously on the cliffs above. No way I'd get Dolores to live in one of them. As we head further North, the valley gets wider and greener, but still bounded by sheer slopes. It all looks very glacial.

My chum Craig Gravina is waiting for me at Albany Rensselaer. Thankfully. It doesn't look like a very nice walk to my hotel.

After checking in and cleaning up, we hit the town. Not quite sure of all the places we went. Beer Belly and Lionheart for sure. Somewhere else, too. It's all a bit of a blur. Must be the time difference catching up with me.

I make it until almost midnight. Then sleep the sleep of a weary traveller. Have to be up early tomorrow. Lots on the schedule.








District Tap House
246 W 38th St,
New York, NY 10018.
Tel: +1 212-221-1822
http://www.districttaphouse.com/


The Beer Belly
281 New Scotland Ave,
Albany, NY 12208.
Tel: +1 518-487-4152
http://www.beerbellyalbany.com/


Lionheart Pub
448 Madison Ave,
Albany, NY 12208.
Tel: +1 518-436-9530
http://thelionheartpub.com/