The Brit's Backyard Booket Brew

Backyard Brewer in action

"I was young, stupid and poor," said Paul Edwards when explaining how he got into homebrewing in his native England. "I liked beer, but was too young to buy it, and I had no money anyway. So I began making it myself."

He shared this tidbit with me while drinking an English IPA he and girlfriend Nancy Sapanara had made in August, and while watching over a five-gallon batch of what will become a Belgian Wit a few weeks hence.

Edwards had rigged up his own nano-brewery in Nancy's Warren backyard, and with a firepit going full bore to ward off the chill, Edwards, clad in shorts, put to work a brewkit he had purchased online. "It's really not very difficult," he said in his classic British accent. "Besides the ingredients, what you really need to make beer is just bookets."

Which is "buckets" to us Americans. He also used a chicken fryer to heat the water that would become wort after he put in his giant teabags of grain. Hooked up to a propane gas tank, it worked perfectly for not just one, but two batches of beer to be brewed on this sunny, but chilly, day. The chill clearly did not affect Edwards, but the rest of us sidled up to the firepit or the wort kettle occasionally to catch some warmth, or to inhale the smell of the sweet wort or to watch chestnuts exploding in an open fire.

Bookets

The English IPA he had crafted previously was stored in one-gallon kegs, kept cold by lying in the snow just off the patio. It was damned good and very smooth. He and Nancy put out some excellent food for a select group of friends that had been invited over for what was called Black Friday Brewing, and I learned that Edwards was as good in the kitchen as he was at the kettle. His perfectly seasoned British Sausage and Peppers were outstanding, and the pierogies he brought from a Polish guy near his Passaic digs were equally so after he got done preparing them.

After adding the hops and extra ingredients, he ended the boil while carefully monitoring the temperature of the wort, using the only item that didn't come with the kit-- a separately-purchased wort-chiller--which Edwards claimed to be a boon to the process.

Nancy and Paul at work

He pitched his liquid yeast and carted off the "booket" to the cellar. And no sooner was the first beer safely stored, OG numbers dutifully recorded by Nancy, than the naked legged brewer and good beer fancier began another--an Oatmeal Stout this time.

Guests brought over a wide variety of beers, planting their gifts in Nancy's snow-covered garden. The more guests that appeared, the larger the "Biergarten" grew.

Edwards' beers will be ready in a little over two weeks, and when they are he will keg them. And hopefully invite everyone over again to sample the fruits of his labor. I shall sacrifice myself to report on the final product.

The PubScout has attended backyard homebrewing sessions in the past, but never in winter temps with snow on the ground or with chestnuts exploding in an open fire and Jack Frost nipping at my nose.

But it was surely a great day.
Bookets and all.

Miller Time?

After a long day of travel, the missus and I decided we needed to stop for a bite and a brew. Being in the Woodbridge area, we chose to give the relatively new (to NJ, anyway) Miller's Ale House on Rt. 9 a shot. Born in Florida and now branching out, the chain has a place in Paramus that supposedly does $160,000 a week.

Yet, I had heard mixed reviews about the place, with one friend saying the food was terrible and the beer list was just OK. Another friend gave me the exact opposite account, claiming his was one of the best burgers he'd ever had, and the beer list was substantial and varied.

So in we went to learn for ourselves. To begin with, the place is cavernous, with no fewer than 70 TV's. Two huge rooms, one for dining, and one called "The Patio" sporting 26 TV's. The dining section was pretty packed with couples at tables and families and groups in booths. The sound level was relatively subdued, especially when compared with The Patio where  the "pub hubbub" was considerably greater. For a moment, I thought The Pope or Billy Graham was on TV, because so many of the bar patrons were yelling "Jesus Christ!" But it was just the NY Jets playing on MNF.

Manager Percy Gray allowed that The Patio was "usually a place for the 'younger crowd' to congregate," and we considered it rather a compliment to be escorted to a fireside seat there. There is actually a real patio outside The Patio where patrons can gather around a firepit and smoke, all while watching a huge HD TV. Must be neat in the Spring and Summer.

The Beer List offered something for everyone, IMHO, though it certainly wasn't "crazy" with beers for the true beer nut, especially one who has just returned from Belgium. Still, the draft offerings were adequate, while the bottles were more mainstream--and therefore ignored by The PubScout.

Our friendly and very pleasant server Rayna shared that Dogfish Head 120 was in the house, though not yet on the printed menu. I ordered an Old Reliable SA Winter Lager, and the missus, still on Belgian time, ordered a Stella.

Rayna & Captain Jack

The first thing I noticed about the food menu were the prices, which ranged from very reasonable to moderate. My "loaded" Philly Cheesesteak on a soft roll, which actually tasted like a real Philly Cheesesteak, was outstanding, and it came in under $10. The missus got what she said were 35 delicious shrimp for just a buck more. The Winter Lager worked perfectly with my dish, and her Stella did the same for hers. All the food is made fresh, and there's only one item that gets microwaved--not that there's anything wrong with that. Hint: it's up top on the appy menu.

Though we usually eschew dessert (it takes up too many calories that could be better spent on beer), we asked Rayna for a recommendation. She immediately suggested Cap'n Jack's Buried Treasure, with the ice cream cake made fresh on site. Suggestion: unless you're a big dessert eater, one order can easily satisfy two, and at just $5.95, it's a steal. There's also a decent Kids' menu with similar prices. Good beer, good food, filled bellies and a total tab of $42 isn't too bad these days.

Bottom line: Like The Terminator, I'll be back. The missus concurred.
And when that happens, it's like getting advice from The Oracle at Delphi.

Running With The Big Dogs Soon: The Little Dog Brewing Co.

It was a Little Dog Day afternoon for me and a horde of others who piled into Gretchen Schmidhausler's new digs. Of course, with Gretchen being the consummate organized professional, the hordes were invited in segments, orderly upon entering and beaming when they left.

Much of that had to do with the divine Ms. S and the way she goes about her business. After all, this is the first NJ Brewmistress to garner a coveted GABF Gold Medal, so she clearly knows what she--and her beer--is about. And awards like that do not go to those who are sloppy, haphazard--or lucky.

After having put in twelve successful years at Basil T's (now Birravino) in Red Bank, and having come up through the brewing ranks for years before that, Gretchen decided it was time to do her own thing. And her own thing involves water, malt, hops and yeast. And what she calls a "Frankenstein Brewing System."

Gretchen Schmidhausler and Frankenstein

Frankenstein notwithstanding, her own thing has retained all the quality of the endeavors that preceded it, winning her plaudits from not only the beer cognoscenti, but from regular beer nuts like yours truly. Her little ten-barrel brewery on Steiner Av. in Neptune City had four beers available today, something for every palate.

Upon entering this invitation-only event on a bright, but chilly, Saturday afternoon, this palate was pleasantly washed by an outstanding Copper Ale (Clare's favorite, btw). If this is the standard, I thought, she's in for a very good run.

But it wasn't just the Copper Ale that impressed. A gingery Pumpkin ale and a chewy, coffe-ish porter also were available. Most surprising to The PubScout was his own affinity for her Spicy Apple Ale. Its cinnamon and nutmeg, balanced with the slightly tart apple cider contained therein, produced an effect that was at first unusual. Then very pleasant. And then it became compelling.

So much so that I took a grunt of it and the Copper home.

The Apple and the Copper

Little Dog will not go fully commercial till after the first of the year. So this is a good time to get down there and see the place, sample the beers and chat with Ms. S. while her clothes are still relatively dry. Brewers are fond of saying, "If you ain't wet, you ain't working."

Even after that, The Little Dog Brewing Company will likely not cause The Big Dog Brewers to have any sleepless nights, especially in terms of volume. But knowing Gretchen and her passion for her product, that Little Dog will be nipping at lots of legs as it finds its way on to MainStream Street.

Cheers!
The PubScout

Life is Not a Dress Rehearsal...

At Bosteel's Brewery in Belgium...

After four days of work, I just finished my account of a beer trip to Belgium that has been on my bucket list for many years. It will be appearing at greater length in the upcoming issue of NJ Brew, so be on the lookout.

My affinity for Belgian beers began with Michael Jackson’s book event in NYC sixteen years ago.

Someday…someday, I kept saying.

And suddenly, someday was here.

The Grand Place, Brussels

 My dream trip is now a collection of memories and digital pictures—recollections of new places, new foods, new beers and new people, including the always delightful experience of making some new friends.

For The PubScout, beer is more than just a liquid to be imbibed, evaluated, assessed or categorized. It is tied inextricably to a moment and a place. I could get some Belgian beers and sit in my (or your) Barcalounger while drinking them, but it’s just not the same as drinking them while looking at a four hundred year-old cobblestone street, a five hundred year-old pub or a six hundred year-old church, all from a sidewalk or through a mullioned window from a fireside seat.

And special is the memory of sipping a Duvel, a Delirium Tremens, a Le Garre, a Kwak, a Tripel Karmeliet, a Chimay, a Westmalle Tripel, a Rodenbach Classic or Grand Cru, a Boon Kriek, a Brugse Zot Bruin, a Westvleteren 12, a De Struise Double Black or a Timmerman’s in just the right place, at just the right moment—and in just the right glass.

Good memories like that are the nuggets we take out as we age to warm ourselves, assuring our inner souls that a credo like “Life is not a dress rehearsal” has true worth.

 

Erica and Evan

I used to say that anyone who is a true Beer Nut owes it to himself to visit the GABF Festival in Denver at least once in his or her lifetime.

Same now goes for Belgium.

So when are you going?

Cheers!

The PubScout

Here are some pictures to motivate you. 

Havoc in Belgium?

This just in:

A NJ man is being sought by Belgian authorities for causing chaos at the Westvleteren Trappist Monastery during a recent visit there. Kurt Epps, a US beer fancier, got ten monks drunk with repeated toasts to their beer-making prowess, and while they were incapacitated, he made off with a dozen barrels of their world-renowned, rare--and very expensive-- beer. 

When the monks emerged from their beer-fueled reverie and discovered the heist, they ran down the cobblestone streets screaming obscenities, despite having taken lifelong vows of silence. Clutching rakes, pitchforks and hoes, they pursued the trickster on foot to no avail. Belgian police joined in the chase, but conceded that the culprit had "too much of a lead" for them to overtake him.

Using a horsecart he hijacked, and a driver who he plied with beer, Epps was last seen by Belgian peasants

--with whom he downed a half-barrel of the precious liquid-- headed towards the German border, where reports say he had arranged for the trove to be shipped to his central Jersey home via the Black Market. 

According to his sons, his plan is said to involve moving the contraband across the US southern border with Mexico, which he said, "is as porous as a colander," according to the trip organizers who overheard his plan during a morning drinking session.

"We thought he was kidding," said Larry Porter, organizer of the trip. "I guess he wasn't."

Porter, who owns a pub in Easton, PA, said, "I'm sure Kurt will contact me when he gets back in the US. We have a lot of beers at Porters' Pub, but we've never had Westvleteren."

"My husband doesn't kid about his beer," said his wife, Donna, who is being held for questioning by local monastic and police authorities. She said, "I was afraid this was going to happen. He's been wanting to come to Belgium for a long time. And when he saw the monastery, his eyes lit up."