Lewis - We make beer: inside the spirit and artistry of Americas craft brewers

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CONTENTS

THE TAO OF BEER

OLD-WORLD TRADITION AND NEW-WORLD INNOVATION

APPRECIATING BALANCE IN BEER AND BREWING

BREWERS AS COLLABORATORS, NOT COMPETITORS

A FRATERNITY OF BREWERS

BREWING FOR THE COMMUNITY

THE CRAFT OF BREWING

PROVIDING FOR FAMILY

THE ATTRACTION TO BREWING

MAKING BOLD AND AGGRESSIVE DECISIONS

APPRECIATING GOOD BEER

THE FUTURE OF CRAFT BEER

INTRODUCTION

WERE MAKING BEER, MAN

THE TAO OF BEER

I pulled into the parking lot outside of a nondescript set of manufacturing condos. To get there in time, I had woken up early to make the thirty-five-minute commute from my apartment in Boston. I put on a ratty pair of old jeans, the hem of which had long ago frayed from wear, and what hadnt been destroyed by the bottom of my shoes I had evened out with scissors. Stains from spilled beer covered the legs. Soon I would be standing over steaming water and humping heavy bags of grain over my shoulder, but at that moment I was still tired from my job as a sportswriter, farther down the Massachusetts coast, which kept me working well past midnight. After my shift in the brewhouse, I would change into nicer jeans and a polo shirt in my car before heading off to work for the evening. In my hands I carried my brown rubber boots and a few beers I brewed in my kitchen. The boots were sticky and had stray pieces of grain glued to the sides. The brews were for Andrisit was always nice to hear what a professional thought of my work.

I walked in the front door next to the round, wooden sign that read B LUE H ILLS B REWERY , through the little tasting room and gift shop, and into the brewhouse in the rear. Andris was on a ladder near the back checking the temperature in the hot water tanksteam rose from the panel as he lifted it.

Hey man, he said, always somewhat surprised that Id made it out of bed. Good to see you. Were just about ready to mash in. I need ten bags of two-row, four bags of Munich malt Andris trailed off while listing the grain that would be combined with hot water in order to extract sugars in a process known as the mash. I pulled my boots on and got to work. It was time to make beer.

* * *

I met Andris Veidis on a brewery tour. At the time, I was scraping and clawing for every writing assignment I could get to pay the rent on my apartment and put gas in my car. I had written a couple of freelance pieces for BeerAdvocate magazine, which had started a new segment called From the Source that profiled breweries each month. I was pitching the editors ideas and working as one of the magazines many freelance contributors. I pitched the idea of a From the Source on Blue Hillsit was barely an infant of a brewery, just a few months old, and could provide an interesting perspective on what it took to get started in the industry. Todd Alstrm, BeerAdvocate s cofounder and the magazines editor at the time, must have liked the idea because I got the assignment, and so I drove down to Canton, Massachusetts, for the interview.

Andris knew I wasnt bringing a photographer with me, and he dressed the part. His hair looked as though he had just pulled a sweater over his head. He wore cutoff jean shorts and a T-shirtit was my first glimpse of the brewers uniform. Most of the conversation centered on the process of building a business and what it took to get a small brewery up and running, but we also spoke about his philosophy of making beer.

I dont want to make an IPA that is just going to hit you in the face with Cascade hops, he told mereferring to the popular hop grown in the Pacific Northwest that lends a strong grapefruit aroma and flavor to a beer. Everybody is making those, and they make them because its really easy. I want my IPA to be more balanced. I want people to drink my beer and say Mmm, Ive never had an IPA like this before.

The best part about writing about beer and breweries was the tasting, and I had a pint of Andriss India pale ale in my hand as we spoke. The hops were present in the nose and first sip, but they did not leap out of the glass and overwhelm. They were subtle and inviting. Alongside the hops, which were more floral than fruity, were a caramel sweetness and a hint of butterscotch.

Thats the diacetyl, Andris explained. A lot of people think of it as an off flavor, but I like it. I leave it in there on purpose.

Later I learned that he encouraged the yeast to produce diacetyl by controlling the fermentation temperature and giving the beer time to rest at temperatures slightly lower than that at which it had fermented. Many people never even noticed the subtle flavor behind the strong caramel notes, and others would confuse it with oxidationsaid to taste like wet cardboarda mistake that Andris seemed to take personally.

I had this beer snob give me an appraisal of my beer at one of my first accounts. He sipped it, sort of swirled it around a bit and sniffed it and looked like a total jackass. Andris imitated the appraiser, tilted his head back, pursed his lips, and swirled around an imaginary glass of IPA. He said, The hops are weak, and I detect a hint of oxidation. I know what oxidation tastes like, and my IPA did not taste like a lunch bag. It tastes just how I want it to taste. I cant get upset if this guy is just a snob who thinks he knows more than he does.

After the interview, I told him that one day I would like to have a brewery of my own, and that Id love to learn how a full-scale brewery works firsthand. His response surprised me.

Bring some boots, because youre going to get wet.

The next brew session was a few days away, so I bought a pair of dairy boots on my way to my newspaper job and dug out an old pair of jeans from the back of my closet. I barely slept the night before, thanks in part to a long Red Sox and Yankees game that delayed the sports section but also because of the anticipation of the next morning.

When I arrived for that first brew session, the building appeared empty. Steam rose from the hot water tank, but the rest of the brewery remained still. I walked toward the kettle, afraid to touch anything. It all seemed so foreign and liable to spew boiling water with the flip of a switch. Finally, Andris emerged from the cold room where the beer rested for a week or two after it was filtered. Oh, he said, you made it. Good.

What are we brewing today? I asked as we shook hands.

Xtra Pale, but just half a batch. See that stack of grain over there? I need ten bags of pale malt and one bag of Munich. Bring them over and set them up on the platform next to the mash tun.

He pointed to the palate loaded with grain bags and then to the mash tun where they would be emptied and their contents soaked in hot water to extract the sugar. My anxiety about brewing was already put to rest. Lift and toteI could do that. The Xtra Pale Ale was Blue Hills lightest beer. It was crisp and had a nice floral smell and taste that meshed well with the semisweet finish. The beer was a big hit with the Bud Light crowd that didnt expect much flavor in its beer. It also meant that I would not have to lift as many bags of grain as I would if we were making the more robust IPA.