Thanks everyone for the links and videos! I am still working me way through them, thanks!
Following my first "eureka" moment when I realized that the bappir the Mesopotamians cooked may have been, at least partially, burnt, I performed a simple preliminary taste test using burnt toast and Corona light. The original experiment is here:
http://sidurisadvice.com/bappir.html
Long story short, the burnt toast did indeed seem to improve the taste of Corona light, but this was just a preliminary result and needed to be reproduced with real bappir, a more appropriate test beer and a larger tasting group. I managed to persuade three individuals (Adrian, Joy and Jessica) with varied palates to participate in a blind tasting, and combined with yours truly, we now had a decent sample group to more definitely address the burnt bappir hypothesis, namely, that the Mesopotamians burnt bappir, and it is this burnt element that balances out the sweetness and improves the taste of their beer long before hops were discovered. I have not yet seen this "burnt bappir" hypothesis described anywhere online to date, so I am both excited and a bit concerned. Excited that I may have been the first to put this theory forwards, and a bit concerned that if no-one else previously proposed it, perhaps there was a good reason for the burnt bappir hypothesis not being the case, and I was simply unaware of it. I started doing more reading on bappir to see if further evidence supported or opposed the burnt bappir hypothesis. First of all multiple sources seem to be very specific that bappir was "twice baked". Scholars have previously interpreted this "twice baked" as meaning bake some bread, then bake it again to dry it out so it will be preserved for a long time, presumably as a food stuff? This argument actually doesn't make much sense when we actually look at the lists of foods the Mesopotamians actually stored. According to Peter Damerow in "Sumerian Beer: The Origins of Brewing Technology in Ancient Mesopotamia", ref:
http://sidurisadvice.com/Damerow.html
we learn that bappir was NOT included in the Mesopotamians stored edible foods, suggesting that bappir was not eaten. This makes no sense if bappir was being "twice-baked" to preserve for later eating, as originally proposed, but make perfect sense if "twice-baked" refers to burning bread specifically for beer, not to be eaten. It may even mean the Mesopotamians would use their old leftover barley bread to bake again into burnt bappir, with the burnt bappir providing a much needed bittering agent to balance the sweetness of the malted barley. I collected all of the necessary regents (see Figure 1A); note that Figures are online at:
http://sidurisadvice.com/midas.html
Specifically, reagents I would need to perform this expanded second experiment included a four-pack of Midas Touch (the closest commercially produced beer to the no-hops Mesopotamian original we seek), some organic 2-row barley, some organic cinnamon (to provide the "sweet aromatics" referred to in the hymn, and also historically appropriate) and a mortar and pestle (which I had to buy for this experiment as I have never had the need to crush my own barley seeds before)
I toasted 1 cup of barley seeds for 15 min at 400C in the oven to make them easier to crush (Figure 1B), then I crushed the seeds in the mortar and sieved out about 1/2 cup of barley flour from 1 cup of barley seeds. Next, I mixed this half cup of barley flour with 2 oz of water and a HUGE quantity of cinnamon, probably just over two tablespoons. I really wanted to incorporate a "sweet aromatic" and cinnamon was both used by the Mesopotamians and has a very sweet aroma, probably one of the sweetest aroma spices, thus it is an obvious choice. I then split the barley paste into two biscuit shapes and baked for 400C for 1 hour, and then (when impatience got the better of me as the bappir cakes were still not looking burnt) and whacked the oven up to 550C until it started to smoke (which took less than 10 minutes) and then removed the resulting slightly burnt bappir (Figure 1D). Next, I crushed the bappir and noted that not all of the bappir had burnt, especially not the stuff in the middle of the cake, so I mixed one of the biscuits with a small amount of water and then crumbled over aluminum foil (to maximize the exposed surface area) and then broilled (oven grilled) it on high. The bappir went completely black, but I felt it could be more burnt. The bappir started to slightly smoke, just a hint of it, but I felt it could be more burnt. The bappir started to smoke like crazy, I hesitated for just a moment, could it be more burnt? Unfortunately I had hesitated for a moment too long, the bappir caught on fire! Time froze for a moment as I stared at the burning barley crumbs in my oven, had I let my quest to taste an authentic ancient ale go too far? No, I think not! A small oven fire is a small price to pay to get one step closer to tasting the beer of our ancestors, the ancient ale that inspired those roaming hunter gathers to settle down, farm barley and make beer, the beer that was worshiped as a god, THAT is the beer I want to taste and I will not rest until the original amber nectar of the gods has passed my lips. One small oven fire will not stop me... I smothered the burnt bappir with kitchen towels to put out the fire and after apologizing profusely to the patient taste testers in the living room for filling the house with Barley smoke, and promising to replace the damaged kitchen towels, I ploughed on... for science.
The bappir was perfect, it could NOT get any more burnt without catching fire again, so I decided that now was the time to mash it up with 1/2 a cup of water, microwave it for 45 seconds, stir it, let it still and infuse its flavors into the water for a few minutes, sieve it into a new cup and then put the result in the fridge to cool in time for the upcoming taste test. For each taste test I asked the tasters to drink the beer blinded, then to comment and score the result out of 10. I included some control beers to calibrate the scale of each participant before moving on to the real bappir-test.
Taste test results.
The first "mystery" beer was Corona light, a control beer to see who likes this sort of watery mild beer.
I commented that it was "very mild" and gave it a 4/10.
Adrian said it was "fruity and light" and gave it a 6/10.
Joy said it was "flat, but nice light flavor" and gave it a 7/10.
Finally, Jessica nailed the beer with her comment that it was "like Corona" and gave it a 7.5/10.
So, it looks like everyone prefers Corona light to me... oh well... I don't mind having esoteric taste
The second "mystery beer" was Sierra Nevada pale ale, a very drinkable beer that I often turn to.
I commented that it was a "solid drinkable beer" and gave it 6/10 (a high score for super critical me).
Adrian said it was "fruity and IPA-like" and gave it 7.5/10.
Joy said it "tastes like my fav hoppy beer; sweet, light and fizzy" and gave it 10/10!
Finally Jessica nailed it again saying it was "like Sierra Nevada" and gave it a 8/10.
So, I am definitely the most critical in this group.
The third "mystery beer" was Midas Touch. Let's see how the main commercially available ancient ale stacks up to this tasting group with WITHOUT the burnt bappir...
I felt that it was "unbalanced and too malty and sweet" and gave it a 4/10.
Adrian said it was "sweet" and gave it a 3.5/10.
Joy it had an "unpleasant aftertaste, flat and tastes like an old Coors light, but it has potential" and gave it a 3/10.
Finally, Jessica was entirely unimpressed and called it a "honey water banana bog" and gave it 3/10.
So, across the board it looks like everyone felt that Midas Touch is an unbalanced overly sweet beer; a perfect situation to test the burnt bappir hypothesis! I was excited
The final "mystery beer" was Midas Touch that had had a tablespoon of the bappir water extract mixed in...
I felt that the bappir was definitely taking this beer in the right direction and commented that I "liked the cinnamon note" and gave the beer a 5.5/10, my second highest score of the night, only half a point below Sierra Nevada, which is one of my favorite beers. However, I felt even with the bappir their was still a missing element stopping this beer from achieving true greatness. Possibly what this type of ancient ale needs to take it to a "divine" taste, a beer worthy of worship, is the sourness from the natural lacto-bacteria, this sweet and sour beer might be exactly what is needed for "Siduri's Advice" ancient ale. I will need to look into how to carefully supplement with lactobacillus in order to get the perfect amount of sourness.
Adrian commented it was like "cake in a beer" and gave it 8/10, a huge increase from his previous 3.5 for Midas Touch without bappir.
Joy commented it was "fizzy with very nice flavors" and increased her score from the original 3 to a 6/10, another huge increase.
Finally, Jessica somewhat cryptically commented "bitter bog boasts better beauty", and while I am not entirely sure what that means, she nevertheless increased her score from a 3 to a 4.5/10, so she too liked the bappir addition.
So, across the board, it looks like everyone much preferred the Midas Touch when it included burnt bappir with the sweet aromatic (cinnamon).
In conclusion, this second experiment supports the hypothesis that burnt bappir can improve the flavor of unbalanced sweet ale, such as Midas Touch, and supports the hypothesis that Mesopotamians added burnt bappir to their beer in order to balance and improve the flavor. However, I have come to realize that even with burnt bappir the beer is still missing something, and I think that missing element is a balancing sourness from the lacto-bateria that would almost certainly be a part of a semi-natural fermentation. I will need to take this quest for the ultimate ancient Mesopotamian ale to the next level and actually start my own ancient ales brewing...