Monday, August 19, 2013

Making 40 Pints of Woodforde’s Wherry with a Youngs Kit – Part 1

I like beer. The worst thing about beer is having to pay for it. Therefore, home brew.

In a change to the usual schedule, I will be taking you through the process of making the eponymous 40 pints of Woodforde’s Wherry with a Youngs home brew kit, step by step.

You see, I am trying to make the internet a better place after all.

See here for the story of how this kit came into my sweaty little hands.

Here are the things we’ll be using today.

Step 1 – Sterilisation


So you have to fill the 5 gallon container with hot water and a couple of teaspoons of the steriliser per gallon. 

 I put 10 teaspoons in. It foams up like a bubble bath and smells like swimming pool.

I did this in the bath, knowing that 5 gallons of hot water is quite heavy.

You leave it for 20 minutes. I put the lid and the airlock pieces in as well. I should really have put the spoon in, I realised an hour later...


 Step 2 – Meanwhile downstairs...

The beer mixture (or whatever it’s called) is in two big cans. You are supposed to stand these in hot water for 5 minutes.

At the same time, I boiled up the requisite 3.5 litres of water on the hob.


While this was going on, I went to the garage to fetch Roger Jr’s micro scooter in. Why? Aha.


I went back upstairs, rinsed the primary fermentation vessel (for that is what it is called) out – finding that the lid had bent a little bit in the hot water. It still went on just fine, so I didn’t worry about it.



Step 3 – The Wort
That’s a beer word, ladies and gentlemen. It means the foul stinking liquid that turns into beer


So I opens the tins. I mean, I open the tins. I am not Popeye.

I opens the tins – discovering that despite having every kitchen implement imaginable, we do not have a decent tin opener. I am forced to prise the lids off with a knife. Just a bit.

This is what beer cordial looks like.

I pours it...I pour it into the vessel. You know what I did then? I put the vessel onto the micro-scooter! That is the sort of foresight that lead our ancestors to make fire. I have justified my human status.



I knew full well that attempting to carry a bucket with 5 gallons of wort in it out to the garage – the only place Elvira will allow me to conduct chemistry experiments – would result in considerable sloppage unless I used the power of wheels.
.

So, in goes the 3.5 litres of boiling water, followed by another...erm...20 odd litres of cold water, as prescribed by the highly comprehensive instructions provided.

I stir it until foul sludge stops coming up on the spoon.

My toe is also visible
Now for the magic ingredient. Yeast.

In goes the yeast. Stir it in.

On goes the lid.

A little bit of water in the airlock, so that I can see bubbles of CO2 coming out as it ferments.

I feel obliged to point out that nowhere in the instructions provided is it explained what the hell you are supposed to do with the airlock. I had to look it up on the internet.
Airlock
Step 4 – In Transit

The scooter is a piece of genius. Out we go to the garage – the new fortress of solitude.

Up it goes onto a shelf and I wraps a coat around it to keep it warm. It needs to stay at around 18 to 20 degrees Celsius for 4 to 6 days.

Then I go in and do the washing up, like a good boy.

Conclusion

Well, it took me less than a hour and it all seems to be working – the brew had started to bubble when checked. My assessment:
  • One side of instructions for something that you will almost certainly ruin if you don’t do it very carefully is not good enough Youngs.
  • I forgot to sterilise the spoon.
  • I used too much steriliser on the bucket and now I don’t have enough left to do the pressure barrel when it comes to part 2. I’ll have to go and buy some extra.
Overall: easy, although it may yet all prove to be a complete balls-up.

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