Coming Out

That's right. I'm out of the closet. From now on all alcohol will either be fermented in the kitchen or in the basement. Don't worry though—the URL will remain the same.
I moved into a new apartment last week and christened my kitchen—in memory of the closet—with an easy-drinking pale ale. But before I describe the brew day, I'll hit some highlights from my road trip out east.

The brewery in the kitchen

After driving through the flat state of North Dakota and a quick stay in Minnesota, I was ready to devour some aged cheddar and drink some Wisconsin brew. I met up with my good friend Grant, who I've known since I was ten when we were both learning how to fly-fish. An hour and a half after arriving we were already in the local grocery store putting mixed packs together. We picked up some 12-year cheddar and a wealthy selection of beers endemic to WI.

In the land of cheese

We sipped on everything from New Glarus’s Flemish Brown to Sand Creek’s One Planet Ale, and by the end of the day, few beers remained untouched. Luckily we had a sober driver to take us into Madison to explore the scene. The night was fuzzy and without that aged cheddar I’m not sure I would have survived the next day. I normally drink Gatorade and pump vitamins to cure the hangover, but from now on I think I'll stick to potent cheese.

The selection

The hangover lifted, my car got tuned up, and I continued my journey east. The next beer stop was Manhattan, where my friends Joslyn, Paul, and Max were anxious to guide me through the veins of the city. We walked everywhere from Central Park all the way down south to SoHo. The tall sky-scrapers with flashing lights and gargantuan bill-boards never seemed real. I felt like I was in Las Vegas—where everything is too bizarre and wild to take seriously. I dove into the madness and dug it all. Beer? Plenty of it, but the brewery that stood out was Nogne∅ from Norway. A bartender in Portland, Maine once recommended this brewery to me, and I see why—smooth, interesting, and flavorful beers. Other than beer, dank food, good company, and surreal skyscrapers, the pickle shop needs to be mentioned. That’s right, a store that only makes and sells pickles. They have about fifteen tubs with different degrees of spiciness, tartness, and sweetness. The master pickler recommended a crunchy and spicy explosion that still has me drooling. Damn.

Far from Carbondale

In bottles

Paul and Max posing like tourists

Support your local pawn shop

Unfortunately my time ran out, and I had to leave the madness of the city behind. I got back to school, and as soon as I moved into my new house Matt McElwee and I put our brew pots to use.

Samuli stirring and Matt watching

Multiple tiers at different heights are crucial for sparging unless you have pumps that fight gravity. Luckily there's a set of stairs out back that was perfect for our fly-sparge.

Three-tiered fly-sparge

The brew day went smooth, and we had plenty of company that were equally excited to watch the wort boil. I never knew meeting neighbors would be so easy. Something about having three huge stainless steel pots and bulging bags of hops and barley attract people like fruit flies to kombucha. With plenty of new friends, we’ll have to keep the beer flowing.

Taking it back to the 80's Photo by: Jenny Lynch

The air lock is still bubbling away—a sign from the beer gods that this year will be a good one.