A Brewmaster's Day

  Beyond water, malt, yeast and hops, craft beer brewing is an intricate, loving and fun process that comes with the mundane, the political, and an elusive fifth element.

“So, you’re a brewmaster?” “Yup.”
“So, you make beer all day?” “Yup.”

This is a typical conversation I have when i'm on a plane, at a wedding, waiting in line for a taxi, or meeting someone new at a party or a bar. The next part of the conversation usually lends itself naturally in a few directions: either extremely excited (“Right on bro! That’s awesome!”), or mildly sarcastic (“So, you’re drinking beer all day, huh?”), or even genuinely and fervently curious (“So, what’s your preferred style?”). Honestly, I love all these questions — because I love what I do as the brewmaster of The Pump Room. I love my job.

Brewing craft beer for a living is great, but like any job, it comes with the mundane and the political. Ninety per cent of the job involves planning ahead, cleaning and sanitising equipment, and a lot of sweaty hard work. It’s that extra 10 per cent that allows for scientific discipline, creative licence, exploration, and most importantly — thinking ‘out of the box’.

Here’s what a typical brewing day is really like. And for the record, I really do not drink beer all day; it’s quite near impossible with the daily demands of the job, as you will soon see.

 

8.30am

I ride my bicycle to work, as usual. As I round the corner of the road into Clarke Quay, I avoid a head-on collision with the lamppost while thinking about the things that I need to do when I get into the brewery.

 

9.05am

I begin the brew day with the ‘mash-in’. I mix hot water (at a controlled specific temperature) with milled (crushed) malted barley in a large stainless-steel vessel to create a mash, a mixture that provides the basis and backbone of my beer. This is what I refer to as my ‘Zen moment’ — once I get the process going and the ingredients are mixing well, I sit back for a minute with a cup of coffee and reign in the aromas — grainy, bready, roasted, nutty — and contemplate my plans for this particular brew.

A Zen moment is always a good thing. You need to relax before diving into a brew day. When considering the brewing process you will need to think ahead to be sure you’re ready for all situations. Safety is also a huge deal — we have boiling water, dangerous chemicals and industrial equipment everywhere. What’s funny about safety? Nothing. You’ve got to be prepared.

 

10.17am

Run-off time. I separate the liquid from the solid milled grain. The liquid contains an extract of converted fermentable sugars, called ‘wort’ (pronounced “wert”). I also name it ‘sweet love’. It is actually very sweet to taste (think of maple syrup), and it is full of the love that will enable this mixture to one day become beer.

For this Pump Room Porter that I am brewing, I am also adding some of my own ‘sweet love’ to the wort — some local gula Melaka (coconut palm sugar), which adds complexity and a unique nuanced flavour to the beer, if all goes as planned. This is the part where I really dig being a craft brewer. There are times I really want to add a certain ingredient to my beer, because I think it is something that will add to the greater whole of the final product. But where do I add it? How do I add it? That’s where the fun begins.

 

12.36pm

Now that the wort is collected in the kettle, it’s time to boil. There’re many reasons for boiling, but the chief reason is to sterilise the wort, break down fermentable sugars, and utilise hops. Hops are a kind of flower that buds from a vine. It provides bitterness, flavour, and aroma to beer. In short, hops are the spice of beer. In my terminology, they are called ‘pure wonderfulness’. They remind me of everything from fresh grapefruits to pine forests to spicy lemongrass to Grateful Dead concerts (hops are in same phylogenic family as cannabis sativa, or to most people — marijuana; they might have the same aromas, but not the same psychotropic effects).

While the boil is going, I need to get other things ready to make sure the rest of the day goes according to plan. Cleaning tanks, washing kegs, cleaning draught lines at the bar, etc. A lot of this job involves multi-tasking and figuring out unique logistical problems. But that is part of the fun — you have to get creative with everything.

I now get rid of all the soggy milled grain that I’d used for the mash. This process, called ‘grain-out’, involves me, a large rake, two rubbish bins, a multitude of plastic garbage bags, 500 kg of wet grain, lots of sweat, heavy metal music, and usually an assistant. Today, there is no assistant, which I would make up for by doubling the perspiration.

 

To see the rest of the story, pick up the October 2011 issue of Appetite. If you don't want to miss an issue, subscribe to the magazine here.