EinGutesBier
Well-Known Member
After experimenting with the steam beer/California Common style, I came to a realization.
American styles just aren't for me.
That might seem a little contradictory for a US homebrewer to say, but there's some reasoning behind this. Whenever I've brewed an American style, it's usually been an unremarkable experience or result for me. Maybe it's just a boring brew because of a clean-fermenting yeast or just the actual ingredients and techniques that make it. In contrast, whenever I've made a Belgian style ale, as traditionally as I can produce it here in the states, it's something else entirely.
Maybe it's just the sweeter profiles with a slight hop edge, maybe it's the phenols and the esters. Maybe it's the fact that I can ferment warmer without a worry. Most of all, though, I'm pretty sure it's about the final result. Nothing else hits the spot like a quality Belgian. Those yeasts are a gift from God, no doubt. Besides, what other grouping or style can boast a grist bill that has 20-30% sugars? You just can't go wrong with a highly attenuated beer with a little sweetness and a raisiny, rummy undertone.
My Grandfather, who was a full blooded Belgian was a bow maker by trade. He made some of the most beautiful zebra wood bows I've ever seen. When he had died, we cleaned up his shop for the estate auction and found one last remarkably crafted bow in the corner, covered in dust. The only flaw it had was a crack down the middle, from a heavy box dropping on it. In my eyes, it's the last testament to his legacy, and a keepsake that memory to live on, with each of my Belgian brews to serve as a counter-testament to his skill.
With "Brew Like A Monk" as my reference, I intend to focus my time on honing my ability to brew a great Belgian. There's a time and a place for the unsubtle American IPA, a quality American Stout, or even a crisp lawn mower lager. I respect all of those beers and even the ones I never tried, though I may in the future. However, I feel it is my obligation, my duty, to continue the proud Belgian tradition of brewing here on the other side of the ocean in the United States.
Rest in peace, Grandfather. This brew is for you.
American styles just aren't for me.
That might seem a little contradictory for a US homebrewer to say, but there's some reasoning behind this. Whenever I've brewed an American style, it's usually been an unremarkable experience or result for me. Maybe it's just a boring brew because of a clean-fermenting yeast or just the actual ingredients and techniques that make it. In contrast, whenever I've made a Belgian style ale, as traditionally as I can produce it here in the states, it's something else entirely.
Maybe it's just the sweeter profiles with a slight hop edge, maybe it's the phenols and the esters. Maybe it's the fact that I can ferment warmer without a worry. Most of all, though, I'm pretty sure it's about the final result. Nothing else hits the spot like a quality Belgian. Those yeasts are a gift from God, no doubt. Besides, what other grouping or style can boast a grist bill that has 20-30% sugars? You just can't go wrong with a highly attenuated beer with a little sweetness and a raisiny, rummy undertone.
My Grandfather, who was a full blooded Belgian was a bow maker by trade. He made some of the most beautiful zebra wood bows I've ever seen. When he had died, we cleaned up his shop for the estate auction and found one last remarkably crafted bow in the corner, covered in dust. The only flaw it had was a crack down the middle, from a heavy box dropping on it. In my eyes, it's the last testament to his legacy, and a keepsake that memory to live on, with each of my Belgian brews to serve as a counter-testament to his skill.
With "Brew Like A Monk" as my reference, I intend to focus my time on honing my ability to brew a great Belgian. There's a time and a place for the unsubtle American IPA, a quality American Stout, or even a crisp lawn mower lager. I respect all of those beers and even the ones I never tried, though I may in the future. However, I feel it is my obligation, my duty, to continue the proud Belgian tradition of brewing here on the other side of the ocean in the United States.
Rest in peace, Grandfather. This brew is for you.