posted 1 year ago
It all started at a brew pub located on a creek at the foot of the Siskiyou mountains back in 1991. I was barely old enough to drink and I was sharing homebrews with an old guy who taught high school Spanish in Grants Pass. During that conversation, he piqued my interest in Belgian style beers. They became somewhat of an obsession and a heavy influence on my own style of craft brewing that has continued throughout my life.
Spontaneous fermentation in open vats. Barn doors wide open to let the wind inoculate the wort with wild yeasts and bacteria. Secondary fermentation in old wine barrels with additions of peaches or raspberries. Dry, fruity beers, with flavor descriptors such as “horse blanket” and “sour”. Beers crafted by farmers after the harvest to refresh their workers during the following season. Monks solemnly crafting intoxicating Abbey ales with copious quantities of candy sugar. What’s not to love about the beers of Belgium where anything goes and the brewers often work with the ingredients and equipment that they have readily on hand or can afford?
For nearly a decade I had been operating my aquaponics farm that I started just a few hundred feet from that brew pub. I produced fish, herbs, and microgreens that I sold to local restaurants. Government regulations had whittled the operation down to just microgreen production. Then, the building was sold, so I downsized and moved production to my greenhouse. The 2020 lockdown closed the restaurants; finishing it off for a while.
I repurposed some of my microgreen equipment for chicken fodder production for my layers and broilers. Soon, I realized that I could also make my own barley malt for brewing. I learned that another brew pub was downsizing their brewery and needed money to cover payroll, so I was able to level up my little homebrewery with a good deal on professional equipment.
Lacking kilning equipment to create specialty malts, I’ve had to formulate recipes and mashing schedules for unkilned malt or “green” malt made from feed barley purchased from the local co-op. This poses challenges as it cannot be stored, so brew days must be coordinated with malting which takes roughly 5 days. I’ve adopted practices much like those of the Scottish distillers. We’ll discuss that in another article. I can, however, kiln small quantities in the oven for additional flavor and color.
Milling the green malt is especially challenging. I have a roller mill and it basically squishes the malt instead of crushing it. Mashing the green malt is particularly difficult as well. The mash schedule must provide ample rests at the appropriate temperatures to break down beta glucans and modify and hydrolize the starch; otherwise, it will remain in the husk as a gummy blob yielding low extract.
My wife, like a good Irish girl, asked me to brew her a stout that was like an Imperial stout that I brewed back in 1994. I found my old notebook and set about formulating the grist with my current equipment and raw materials. Making stout with green malt? Has that been done? Searching the interwebs yielded an old article from Guinness’ archives. It was a technical paper from the 1950s discussing experiments that they had done using unkilned malt and roasted barley. It looked promising, but they had difficulties milling with a roller mill which caused a lower extract yield, so they used a hammer mill instead.
Back in the 90s, the variety of yeasts for brewing beer was somewhat limited. Often, I would pick up a bottle conditioned beer like Chimay or Sierra Nevada and make a culture from the yeast at the bottom of the bottle. For a few years, I lived near the Hillsdale pub, Oregon’s first brew pub, in southwest Portland. They sold beer to go in Mason jars. Their hefeweizen had large chunks of yeast floating in it and it made a good yeast starter when pitched into a batch of wheat beer.
According to my notes, I needed a yeast that could handle the high original gravity of my Imperial stout (1.084), so I turned to those Belgian monks and cultured my yeast from a bottle of Chimay. I remember my ‘94 Imperial stout as being an estery beer that needed to breathe a bit. My sensei, Todd Kemp, who was a brewmaster for Rogue, described it as being a perfect example of an Imperial stout.
Now we have hundreds of yeast varieties to choose from and even the dry yeasts perform well without a yeast starter. For this batch, I went with Mangrove Jack’s Belgian Triple Yeast M31. Surprisingly, this yeast pooped out at a specific gravity of 1.022 after two weeks of fermentation. Like a good monk, I said a prayer and pitched the old standby EC-1118; usually used to ferment wines and hard ciders.
I’ll write more about malting barley in the near future. For this batch, I prepared my specialty grains a few weeks in advance, then stored them in Mason jars. The specialty grains were roasted barley (unmalted) and Biscuit malt. Roasted barley is the one ingredient that defines a Stout ale. It is the main difference between a Stout and a Porter. Honestly, I care more about making beer that my wife likes than staying true to a style. I kilned the roasted barley until it was the color and aroma that I was aiming for. I’d compare it to a medium roast coffee bean.
The Biscuit malt was something new to me altogether. It was something that I found in a book called the Craft Maltster’s Handbook by Dave Thomas and wanted to try. I kilned the malt until it had a subtle reddish hue and an aroma that reminded me of dry roasted peanuts, but without the peanuts.
I wanted this ale to be reminiscent of sitting around a campfire in the middle of a forest in the Pacific Northwest. I was looking for pine, woody, and earthy flavors and aromas that would pair well with the roasted, chocolate, and coffee characteristics of the specialty grain and malt. Chinook and Saaz hops were my choice and they did not disappoint.
I don’t mean to brag, but I have brewed for corporate events and weddings; I’ve been offered brewmaster positions; partnerships; and even capital to start my own brewery. I’ve won champion ribbons. My wife says that this was a masterpiece. Don’t argue with Irish women. Accept the compliment and keep brewing. Name your best beers after them.
the Kelness (if Belgian Monks Brewed Guinness with Green Malt)
Recipe for 10 gallons
Yeast: Mangrove Jack’s Belgian Triple M31 and Lalvin EC 1118
24 lbs Green (unkilned) Malted Barley
2 lbs Biscuit Malt
2 lbs Oatmeal
6 lbs Sugar (Add to boil. Brew like the monks!)
4 oz Chinook Hops (3 oz at 45 mins, 1 oz at 1 hr 15 mins)
1 oz Saaz Hops (15 mins)
Water: 10 gallons in mash. (We are using green roller milled malt, a watery mash works best in this scenario.) Sparge to 12.5 gallons.
Mash Schedule:
Heat to 122 F, hold for 15 mins
Heat to 130 F, hold for 20 mins
Heat to 140 F, hold for 30 mins
Heat to 155 F, hold for 20 mins
Iodine test until you are satisfied with the starch conversion.
Typically, I’d mash out around 170 F to denature the enzymes. With this recipe, the enzymes will remain active during fermentation. Since the base malt wasn’t kilned, remaining enzymes will continue to modify starch and convert it to sugar.
Boil for 1.5 hours, add Chinooks at 45 mins, add Saaz and 1 oz of Chinooks at 1 hr 15 mins. Chill with plate wort chiller to room temperature. Original gravity should be around 1.080 to 1.084.
Primary fermentation (M31 yeast): 7 days in an open fermenter
Secondary fermentation (EC 1118 yeast): 3-7 seven days closed with an airlock until terminal gravity is .990. ABV will be between 9-10%.
Keg in 2 Corn cans and force carbonate at 30 psi. Aim for a high rate of saturation. Should be like Champagne. Cold condition for 2 weeks.
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