The Yeastmaster
My Dear Princess Normal & Dear Fellows,
Today I went to "The Occasional Brewer" a microbrewery which allows punters to make their own brew.
Now here's the thing. I'm actually not that into beer. I don't mind it but there's just so MUCH of it. You drink pint after pint of the stuff and honestly I just end up feeling full. And farty.
Well, that latter feeling is easily dispensed by leaning over on one cheek and letting nature take its course, but still. The full feeling. Not a fan.
However, Tiger & Joshua had invited me along and I'm feeling the need to make Wellington connections. And anyway, it sounded sort of fun.
I was right. It was a right larf. A bit like being on The Generation Game, but with alcohol. The session was led by an American fellow who gave us useful advice such as not blowing ourselves up.
"The floor is at low-tide right now," he announced, "but it won't stay that way for very long, so be careful not to slip and kill yourselves. Important safety tip."
The beer you produce is actually very cheap. We reckoned we would come away with around 60 bottles at about $2 NZD each.
(As opposed to about $10 in a bar).
The reason that it is so cheap is because - theoretically - it is home brew and in fact we had to pass through a Customs Checkpoint - "YOU ARE NOW LEAVING THE BAR" - to the brewing station.
"Again, for customs reasons, I may not help you at any point in the process," said American Brewer. "Except to point out that your brew is about to overheat or that you are putting detergent in your wort."
Yes. I learned all sorts of new terms today. The "wort", which is the mealy oaty soup you make and the "sparge" which is when you run water from your "sparge tank" through the wort while using your "mash spoon". And our favourites - "fuggers" and "koppafloc" which are types of hops that you dump in. For comedy reasons, I think.
"That sounds like something you'd hear a drunk person shout at you in Leith," I said. "Fuggggahs!! Koppafloc off!!"
I did experience a moment of nostalgia when smelling those hops though. Edinburgh in the morning. There it was.
"PLEASE DO NOT SELL YOUR BEER TO CHILDREN," said American Brewer, continuing his reading of the rules. I also had to produce my passport, to prove who I am, though I don't know why. American Brewer took copies of everyone's ID in fact, then walked around the room handing them all back out again. "John!" he bellowed, "Martin! David! Whoever the f*** this guy is!"
We had a couple of pints in The Occasional Brewer, then when our brew was put in the fermenting bins and dumped out the back, we popped to The Moon Bar for additional beer.
Full. And farty.
But I quite liked The Moon Bar. I'd been complaining to Tiger some weeks before that I hadn't found a decent bar in Wellington yet. He knew exactly what I meant. The sort of bar where you get decent craic from the bar staff and where you're not surrounded by w*nkers.
The Moon Bar definitely fit the bill. I had a good old chat with the bar-maid and one of the blokes at the bar. Coincidentally enough, it reminded me very much of The Star Bar in Edinburgh.
I congratulated Tiger and he told me there are more bars he recommends that we need to try.
So it was a successful day. I was going to post a picture of pouring water onto wort. But then I happened across this poster in the khazi of The Moon Bar. So you'll have to look in the extras instead.
S.
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