Repurposing: Brew blog and whatever else

Thought I'd take a trip back through memory lane to when I first started brewing.

The first batch of beer I ever brewed was not strictly legal.  It was actually fairly illegal.

At the end of prohibition, Congress failed to re-legalize what had been standard cottage economic practice since the domestication of wild grasses into the grains we know today: the home-brewing of beer. In 1978, Jimmy Carter signed the federal law allowing the brewing of 100 gallons of beer per adult (up to 200 gallons per household) per year, which went into effect in 1979.

Of course, our federal system also gives the states a say, and Mississippi, where I brewed my first batch in 1998, would not legalize the brewing of beer until 2013, and I'm pretty sure the county (and definitely the campus dormitory) where I brewed that 5-gallon batch of English stout, is still dry. Luckily, I was the RA on that hall, so I didn't have any issues with the authorities, and the ingredients were all perfectly legal in the US Mail.

I was 19, with limited experience of beer, so those 2 cases of (I'm sure) under attenuated stout were formative to my love of beer. I still love darker beers and the malty, yeast-driven side of the craft (it was Wyeast 1084, fermented in the low 70s, so the fruit was with me). I worked my way through a bottle or two every other night or so, sharing with friends (most of whom would "enjoy" one bottle and then switch to something more conventional or just stronger). I practically wallowed in the experience, but being extremely poor and itinerate meant that I didn't brew again for a while (there may have been an apple juice, white sugar, and bread yeast experiment in there that...well, it worked).

I first got "serious" about brewing was while living in Texas, two degrees later. This time, it was legal and there was even a local home brew shop (a LHBS, in the argot of the subculture). I lived by myself, with my future wife back up in Maryland, so I spent my spare time baking bread, working on my crockpot recipes, and brewing some not-totally-horrible beer.

Since that first dorm-room stout, I'd gotten a Master's degree while living in South Yorkshire. I was less poor during that degree, and spent some time hanging out in pubs. I usually drank the cheap stuff, but that meant bitter, mostly, which was "beer." What American's think of as beer was "lager," and even the most-globalized of pubs still had a "beer" tap (Young's, I think, but I'm not sure UPDATE: I spotted a fat man in a riding outfit on Ron Pattinson's excellent blog, and I'm fairly certain the dominant beer was Tetley's) next to the stella and budweiser. I had a roomate who was a member of CAMRA and he dragged me to a number of pubs where I had my first Real Ale out of a cask. This was the gentleman who let me know I was lucky that our local catered to an older, ale-centric crowd of working folks (reversing the student-pub ratio, with multiple ale selections with only one lager tap). I also met a fellow student from Quebec, who was in love with Belgian beers, especially wit biers, maybe after being introduced by Unibroue back home?.

So, when I started brewing again in Texas, it was with a lot more experience of what I wanted to brew (rather than just the thrill of being able to produce something I wasn't supposed to have). I still have my notebook from that time, complete with tipsy reminder on the front that "Yeast and pigs are proof that God loves us."  The notes are for mostly malt-and-yeast-driven English beers that I brewed, along with plans for some Belgian styles that I never got around to. This phase continued when I moved back to Maryland and got married and then followed me to my first year of law school, when I lived in an older house with a basement.  I did a lot of experimentation, especially adding fruit to beers, and even having the time to painstakingly design labels (!) for my beers. That seems pretty crazy right now, but I have the image files, and some of them are pretty good.

But all good things come to an end, and the increasing demands of the law and the arrival of my first child pushed brewing good beer off the top of the priority list.  I still enjoyed drinking good beer, but it wasn't until my youngest hit the magical age of 4 and a half, when some switch flipped from having a toddler (aka, suicide machine) to a charming small child that I thought about brewing again. And this time, I had resources. I might write about that at some point, too.