Book Review: "A Pint of Plain" by Bill Barich

"A Pint of Plain" is Bill Barich's journey through an Ireland increasingly plagued by the steely gray skies of change, homogenization, and a helpless sense of loss. At the end of of the book, as he sits in the warm, boisterous Gogarty's amongst the artists and the students of Trinity College, Dublin, he still gives the impression of looking out a mental window at a fading, mist-shrouded portrait of "the figures in Martin Gale's paintings, often portrayed in a field, (who) look confused and unsure of themselves, as if a purpose they'd once grasped firmly had slipped through their fingers."

Barich's tale of his quest to find the archetypal pub of what he identifies as "Fairytale Ireland" rapidly becomes the story of a man clinging to the dreams of a place made famous by its own writers and poets. He searches Dublin and the countryside for a place with no television or recorded music, where comfort and conversation rule over a simple, naturally evolved gathering space. Disappointment, inevitably, greets both Barich and his readers at every new location, until we are dragging our feet along with him through the conclusion of his hopeless quest. Not only does Barich never find his archetypal Irish Pub, but he never finds a space that he is satisfied in for its own merit. He comes off as a man who would be more pleased in a museum exhibit than in the reality of a world that will always be changing.

Some points that Barich brings up are legitimate, especially when he contrasts the growing global popularity of the Irish Pub Concept, an invention of Diageo-Guinness USA that aims to "facilitate the development of authentic, high quality Irish pubs outside of Ireland" to the rapid decline and evolution of traditional pubs within Ireland. His chapters on the history of drink in Ireland and the phenomenon of craic, the legendary and wandering Irish "good times", are fascinating and well done. They help to sustain the reader, as they seem to have sustained Barich himself, through the dreary marches from broken-down farm pub to mirrored Dublin trophy pub, and back and forth. Despite his musings and wanderings, however, Barich never seems to address the important point that the depth he seeks in a local can only be found after time and familiarity are invested. Craic is fickle, and so is he.

The seemingly aimless modernization of Ireland is a dangerous thing to be sure, especially in a country that has been so immortalized in the minds of the rest of the world. As American flock to the IPC Irish Pubs, seeking that sense of deep, serene familiarity, that anchor of history, legend, and literature that every Irish-American cherishes, the Irish are throwing off the shackles of a long history of pain and struggle and reaching for something else. It is sad that many in Ireland will only realize what they have lost when it is already gone, but for many of them, the option to live a convenient and cosmopolitan life supersedes a devotion to history. History can only be preserved once it has become history, and Barich's search for an authentic pub in a changing Ireland seems to have become a fools errand. It is likely that he will not find his dream until all possibility of authenticity has disappeared, and only then will the historians and the dreamers be able to satiate his thirst for a great fantasy.

Magic Hat and Dirty Box: Gumshoe All-Grain Brewing

I finished my first two all-grain batches about six weeks ago on my homemade system, starting with a clone of Magic Hat #9, roughly described as an "Apricot Pale Ale", and a smoky Scottish Ale that we decided, in the grand tradition of homebrewing and double entendres, to name "Dirty Box". Both of these have now been kegged, carbonated, and poured, and, like Bud Light, they give a new meaning to the work "drinkable". Namely, they often require the modifier "merely".

My engineering background and general inability to think about more than one thing at a time led to a long "research" period on the techniques and problems associated with All-Grain homebrewing, and I got absolutely nothing out of that research period except a set of equipment that generally sufficed. I made the decision that the only way I would ever actually brew would be if I actually...brewed. The steepest learning curve occured with the first two batches that I did, so over the next week I'll describe those two batches in detail, including the problems I ran into and the solutions that we came up with. After those first two, I'll just post my recipes and results, once the beers have been kegged and sampled. In the meantime, however, I will set up, in true Homerian fashion, the epic tale for you of a novice's first two all-grain brewing experiences:

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The Epic of The Magic Hat #9 Clone

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The date was 30 August 2009. The temperature was a balmy 70ish degrees Fahrenheit, a clear morning. Gabe and Shannon began their quest by washing and sanitizing the two keggles, the cooler-lauter tun, and the thermometers and tubes. Then...disaster struck!

Mash in was too low, with the mash temp falling immediately to 142 degrees Fahrenheit. Heat was then frantically applied from the propane burner, with the floating thermometer reading a temperature of 166 Fahrenheir after only eight minutes! We know now that this is an unheard of, unprecendented (except that this particular first instance set the precedent) rate of temperature rise. In a panic, our heroes poured in 3/4 of a quart of ice cold sink water to the mash, which fell again to a lowly 150 degrees Fahrenheit, where the dastardly mash languished for another 25 minutes until it dropped to 148 degrees Fahrenheit, where heat was once again applied for twelve minutes from the propane burner. After turning off the heat and stirring the pot, they discovered that the heat had risen to over 160 degrees! This dropped rapidly to 145, and for the next ten minutes the mash temperature appeared to vacillate randomly between 145 and 162 degrees, reaching 170 degrees F (oh no!) after a short burst of heat. This was impossible! Surely something must be wrong...

But our heroes were not to know.





A mash out temperature was reached after a total mash of just over two hours, at temperatures unknown. No tincture was done, and our heroes, as they transferred the grain to the lauter tun with a hose and saucepan-sized scoops, were nearly at their wits end. Luckly, these plucky protagonists had just enough wit left to deal with that ultimate of enemies...the stuck mash!



Arms and hands were washed and plunged into the wallowing lauter tun, where they braved the heat of the mash to reconfigure the stainless steel braid that served as the lone filter. Grains were stirred continuously, and all hope was nearly abandoned.

A ninety minute boil, twenty minute chill, and the pitching of yeast happened without further incident, allowing tempers also to chill. The demon was racked into secondary after two weeks, at which point it was drowned with the copious apricot extract of shame, and then kegged and carbonated after a further three weeks. Finally, our heroes could taste their first fruits...

And yea, it was moderately drinkable.

(No actual statistics are available for this beer, as it was a total clusterfuck. The recipe as it should be followed is from the Szamatulsky's "Clone Brews" book)

Next week: The beginning of the long and fruitful tale of the DIRTY BOX!



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We learned a lot from this initial all-grain brewing experience:

1) Uninsulated stainless steel keggles don't really hold heat very well.

2) Floating thermometers are not very reliable when one is trying to hit a small temperature range. This is especially true if one is unsure of the finickiness of her equipment.

3) Always keep an eye on the sparge water level when fly-sparging.

4) Fly-sparging is a pain in the ass, especially when done manually.

5) Water boils at about 194 degrees Fahrenheit in Lone Tree, Colorado.

6) Always, always, always have a plan written out, especially one that reminds you of when to take the yeast out.

-- Only about one of these discoveries was actually acted on.

Back in Business!!

It's been a while since I posted anything, due to the distractions provided by the Colorado wilderness, bears, giardia, and moving back with my parents. Whilst I have been gone here is what has happened:

1) I hiked 200 miles of the Colorado Trail, and did my first week-long solo backpacking trip.

2) I have finished my all-grain setup and brewed 25 gallons, composed of five gallons each of...Magic Hat 9 clone, "Dirty Box" Scottish Ale (my first all-grain recipe), Avery IPA clone (modified for a more floral hop vibe), "Roggen Rover" Red Irish Rye Ale, and a spiced pumpkin ale that will probably be named after my friend Julia in some way or another.

3) I have moved into my parents' house and begun devising a plan to develop an inside/outside, steam-powered basement brewery, tentatively named "Defenestration".

4) Dry Dock Brewing won Small Brewery of the Year at GABF!!!

5) The Denver Broncos are undefeated, thanks to the return of a DEFENSE!

Updates will occur, from this point on, every Wednesday, and possibly more frequently depending on motivation, and will include:

THRILLING TALES OF DRILLING AND GRINDING!

THE EPIC STORY OF A DEVELOPING YOUNG BREWER!

SLIGHTLY-LESS-THAN-COPIOUS (but only slightly) CLEAVAGE!

BEER: SOMETHING YOU AND I BOTH LIKE!

and more.





Stay tuned.

Shannon