I set my fermenter in a bathtub that is not used. When I have something fermenting I purposely use that bathroom so I can check on it
At least once a day. Day two I need to be sure it's going, day three I need to clean up the blow off and day four I need to warm it up. Not long after that fermentation is over.
I confess. I love bubbles. And I constantly wonder how much lighter the bucket is getting - you know that whole conservation of mass thing.
Then I fret over the greenhouse gas emission...ok not really.
I blindfold myself during the entire brewing process. After I'm through guesstimating my grain bill by the amount of grain dust I've aspirated, I check my mash temps with the skin on my forearm. If my skin does not blister I hold the mash for an hour.
The mashout is awful; I'm still working on my technique: I've discovered that if cannot submerge my hand in the wort for more than 120 seconds, then I know that the mashout water is higher than 170*.
Once all of this is complete, I conduct my bittering charges by weight; I balance them on the back of my elbow. If I am successful then I proceed with weighing out my flavoring and aroma hops-- of course, I conduct this by smell. If I am not, however, successful balancing my bittering charge then I have one less dog to worry about. Good riddance, I say. (I don't say this around Mom, of course. Or she will curse me.)
I cool the wort in the traditional way. Some of you are probably thinking that I blow of the wort to cool it like a hot soup. Well, Mom didn't raise no fool-- I sit the fan in front of it to hurry the process. Sometimes, I take my clothes off and lie in front of the fan. Sometimes, while I'm lying there, I invent that I'm a single yeast cell transcending new ambient temperatures.
When my penis is as tall as a stack of dimes from the draft, I scrape whatever yeast is left from my last carboy and slap it in there. It's usually about this time I remove my blindfold since I'm already naked. After this, I bring the carboy into my dark room that I use to develop film.
Here I'll stay for the entire three weeks. For entertainment, I'll bring my Mom's lipstick in with me and, pretending it's a Mousterian tool, paint images of The Great Mammal on the carboy. I never take my eyes off the aberration that takes place in the carboy. Never.
Brewing is a séance.
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