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Stout of place: Our arts editor tries home-brewing

Stout of place: Our arts editor tries home-brewing
Adair Iacono

You probably won’t ruin your beer.

One of the challenges of brewing your own beer is that, if something goes wrong, you might not know until you open a bottle four weeks later. But most home-brewers are overly paranoid while cooking their first batch, says one of the owners of the Brooklyn Brew Shop.

“Most of the questions we get are ‘Did I ruin my beer?’ And the answer, usually, is ‘No, not yet,’ ” said Erica Shea, who founded the Dumbo home-brewing company with her husband Stephen Valand in 2009. The pair started selling kits at the Brooklyn Flea, and now ship beer-making supplies all over the world.

Inspired by the many, many excellent stouts I consumed during New York City Beer Week, this beer-loving editor decided to try concocting his own black brew, using an Oatmeal Stout kit from the Brooklyn Brew Shop. The box comes with almost everything a first-time brewer needs to produce two six-packs: a one-gallon jug, plastic tubes, a thermometer, yeast, and a grain mixture tailored for one of the 20 varieties of beer.

But I got Shea on the phone to discuss the stages where — like most first-time brewers — I worried I might have gone wrong.

The first step was boiling up the mash, trying to keep the temperature between 144 and 152 degrees, but on my gas stove I found the mash rocketing between too low and too high. But that’s not really a problem, said Shea.

“Beer is pretty forgiving,” she said. “A few degrees off or a few minutes too long — it doesn’t matter. It might be 6.4.% [alcohol by volume] instead of 6.6%, but that won’t affect the flavor.”

After straining the boiled malt into another pot — or for me, a pair of vessels usually reserved for tomato sauce — I got the proto-brew through a funnel and into the glass gallon jug, added yeast, and tucked it into a dark closet for two weeks.

After peeking at the vessel impatiently for two weeks, I added sugar and transferred the brew into bottles (not included in the kit). Brooklyn Brew Shop’s instructional video makes this process seem deceptively easy, but my neighbors were treated to a series of curses as I stretched the tube from the counter to the sink, and finally onto the floor, spilling a bottles-worth of beer in the process.

Bottling is often a problem for people, said Shea.

“I find the bottling to be the biggest challenge,” said Shea. “It’s a little tricky — you have to harness the power of gravity, especially if you’re short. I often enlist someone else to help.”

And after another two weeks in the darkened closet, my brew — which I dubbed “The Stouter Darkness” poured out black as interstellar night. It had a nice chocolate aftertaste — but it was flat, with foam that vanished immediately. My colleagues in the office pronounced it “drinkable” but “under-carbonated.”

So I told Shea the verdict on the beer but again, she told me not to worry — it probably just needs a little extra time to get properly bubbly.

“Give it a few more days,” she said. “Because it’s been so cold, it takes a little longer to build up carbonation.”

So I will be sampling it again this weekend — and deciding what my next experiment with home-brew is going to be.

Beer Making Kit from Brooklyn Brew Shop (www.brooklynbrewshop.com). $40.

Updated to correct an error describing the brewing process.

Reach arts editor Bill Roundy at broundy@cnglocal.com or by calling (718) 260–4507.
The black cauldron: The oatmeal stout in progress.
Bill Roundy