Sources of DMS in Beer

Quite often, when I run into an issue or a question related to homebrewing that is not answered in the usual homebrewing literature or forums, I turn towards scientific literature. One great example is the Journal of the Institute of Brewing, which makes its issues freely available, with literally more than a hundred years of back issues available.

When earlier today, Brülosophy posted lab results about their DMS exbeeriment, their closing statement irritated me a bit:

But, it’s just as possible our understanding of the relationship between DMS and boil length is simply lacking, that our access to modern technology, higher quality ingredients, and better knowledge about brewing processes has reduced the likelihood of problems brewers of yore had to worry about.

That sentence really made it sound like brewing science is only in its infancy. But that’s definitely not the case. Modern brewing science is lots and lots of organic chemistry, microbiology, and even genetics nowadays, so it would be hardly believable that we knew very little about DMS. I vaguely remember seeing an article about DMS on the mentioned journal, so I dug it up, and first posted a link to it in the comment section of that Brülosophy article. But then I thought, why not write about it? Because the paper itself is great.

So, the interesting that I took out of that article is that there are actually two types of DMS precursor. The paper distinguishes them as “active” and “inactive”. Both have different properties, and come from different sources.

“Inactive” DMS precursor is coming directly from the green malt. If you were to product wort from green malt, the precursor would be decomposed, and the wort would end up with large amounts of DMS, and still a certain amount of DMS precursor. During fermentation, parts of the DMS would dissipate through the gases being given off, while the DMS precursor would be metabolized by the yeast. The yeast wouldn’t make DMS out of it, though, hence why that precursor is called “inactive”.

“Active” DMS precursor is the type of precursor that is created out the inactive precursor during the kilning process. After wort production, there would only be a small amount of DMS in the wort, but still a relevant amount of “active” DMS precursor. During fermentation, that DMS precursor is metabolized by the yeast, which makes DMS out of it. Hence the “active”.

This has some interesting consequences. If the kilning can be done in such a way that no “active” precursor is found in the wort, the yeast will not produce any more DMS during fermentation, and the total amount of DMS in the beer is limited by the amount of DMS in the wort right before pitching. It can even be assumed that some of that DMS will be lost during fermentation. The authors suggest that the amounts of DMS formation during wort production need to be controlled, though. In their experience, it is easier to control DMS levels in beer if it’s derived from DMS precursor in the wort, as the final DMS level can be controlled by using a suitable yeast that keeps DMS production low.

And I think the last bit is the crucial point in the Brülosophy exbeeriment: it’s not that a 30 minute boil vs a 60 minute boil doesn’t have any impact for DMS levels, it’s just that both the specific qualities of the malt and the specific metabolism of the employed yeast do matter, and can have a large impact. My guess is: in the exbeeriment, exactly the “right” malt was used (Bestmalz Pilsner malt, apparently), combined with a yeast strain that only produces low levels of DMS (WLP029, a Kölsch yeast strain). And that perfect combination gave a result that made a 30 minute boil indistinguishable from a 60 minute boil in terms of DMS levels. That said, I would really like to see the same experiment done with a different malt (maybe a less modified floor-malted Bohemian Pilsner malt?) and a yeast strain known for greater DMS level, like a lager yeast. W34/70 comes to mind, for example.

Tasting the Hefeweizen brewed in August

I was quite busy recently, so I didn’t have time to give you an update on the Hefeweizen that I brewed in August.

Fermentation went fine, but took a bit longer than expected to finish up. I then bottled the beer with Speise, and let it referment in the bottle. It carbonated properly.

I first tried the beer about 3 weeks ago. It pours fine. The yeast has formed a relatively hard sediment that took a while to swirl up. When poured, the beer forms a relatively dense foam that falls down at a moderate speed. Colour-wise, it looks a bit darker than your average Hefeweizen, in fact quite close to several commercial products branded as “Urweisse”. Definitely looks pleasant.

In the nose, you get a whiff of acidity, with hints of a phenolic character. It certainly smells like a Hefeweizen. When tasting it, you again get an acidity that almost gets too much over time. It is spritzy, and that acidic component makes it refreshing. The greatest disappointment are the other flavours, though: there is barely any banana coming through, maybe a hint of pear, even though I specifically optimized the wort for ester production. The phenolic side of things is… different. Yes, there are phenols, but it’s not the typical clove character that is so uniqie for the beer style. Not chlorophenolic, though, but still odd.

All in all, I’m a bit disappointed. It is an alright beer, but some of the flavour is just off for the style. I blame the yeast. 😉 I had had quite a few beers, even commercial ones, brewed with WB-06, which exhibited similar issues (high grade of acidity, very few esters and phenols), but I was a bit naive in thinking that I could do better. I wouldn’t mind brewing the beer again, but not with the same yeast. Wyeast 3068 it is next time.

Optimizing a Hefeweizen Mash for Esters and Phenols

A few days ago, I had the idea that I wanted to brew a classic Hefeweizen. In my few years of homebrewing, I had actualy only ever done a “proper” Hefeweizen once, and it was the “Almtaler Hefeweisse” kit from Hopfen&Malz. I wasn’t overly impressed by the specific beer, it seemed a bit too watery for my taste. But then, that may have been purely because it was my third beer that I ever brewed. After that, I brewed two more Hefeweizen, but both with a twist, i.e. a heavy late aroma hopping, followed by some dry-hopping with Nelson Sauvin. That beer was a success, but it’s definitely not your classic Hefeweizen.

A Bavarian Hefeweizen has some specific properties: it’s brewed from a mix of barley malt and wheat malt, with the wheat being at least 50% of the grist. Some commercial examples even contain as much as 70% wheat malt. The beer is cloudy, both from proteins from the wheat malt and yeast in suspension, and while pale, it’s usually a tad darker than your German pale lager, sometimes even going towards a reddish hue. Hop bitterness is very low, with no hop aroma. Alcohol-wise, the typical commercial examples usually have 4.8 to 5.5% ABV. The yeast strains used for that style are top-fermenting. Historically, Hefeweizen did not conform to the Bavarian Purity Law (Reinheitsgebot) because it contains wheat malt, while the Reinheitsgebot only allows barley malt. Special permits were instead issued to those who held the privilege to brew with wheat.

Because I wanted to brew a Hefeweizen on a rather short notice, I went to Bierlieb and got some ingredients. Their choice in ingredients is alright but not great, but definitely enough for quite a few German beer styles, your odd IPA or Belgian-style beer. Unfortunately, they only offer dry yeasts, so I had to get WB-06. Now, the thing is that I’ve heard quite a few bad things about WB-06, namely that it’s a rather bland yeast that produces only tiny amounts of the typical phenolic and ester notes of a proper Hefeweizen. My previous experience with dry yeasts in general and specifically Fermentis dry yeast has been rather good so far (S-04 is my standard for most British styles, US-05 is the Chico strain and so probably the standard for almost everyone’s American styles, and Saflager W-34/70 and S-23 have worked for me in the past, too), so I wanted to give them a try nevertheless.

Just to be sure that I would definitely get enough phenolic (clove) and ester (banana) notes in my Hefeweizen, I was looking for a way to optimize my wort production to provide the yeast with as much of the precursors as possible.

For the clove notes, that’s relatively easy. The phenolic clove notes in Hefeweizen come from the specific yeast strains metabolizing free ferulic acid to 4-vinyl guaiacol. Ferulic acid is in the malt itself, but it needs to be freed and available in the wort. That is usually done through a ferulic acid rest, at about 45 °C.

The banana notes on the other hand are esters, iso-amyl acetate and ethyl acetate, and their production by the yeast directly correlates to the amount of glucose in the wort. So obviously, I’d need to do a mash in a way to increase the amount of glucose. Fortunately, there is a pretty cool method for that, the Herrmann method, or Herrmann-Verfahren in German. It is named after Markus Herrmann who wrote his doctoral thesis at Weihenstephan about the formation and influence of flavouring substances in wheat beer about a decade ago (sorry, German only!).

The principle behind the Herrmann-Verfahren is relatively easy: malt contains a number of enzymes which manipulate starches and complex sugars at specific temperatures. The most important ones are alpha- and beta-amylase that do most of the work. But there is another enzyme, maltase, which can break down maltose into glucose. Unfortunately, maltase works at about 45 °C, and is quickly denatured at higher temperatures. So Herrmann designed a mash schedule that first produces a good amount of maltose through a straightforward Hochkurz infusion mash, with 60% of the grist. Then, a second mash with the remaining 40% of the grist and cold water is done, which is then added to the first mash, bringing it down to 45 °C. That way, the maltase enzymes from the second mash can munch on the maltose produced by the first mash and create more glucose. After that mash, a second dextrinization rest is conducted, followed by mash-out.

The whole process is illustrated here:

Herrmann-Verfahren

That way, you end up with a wort with a lot higher amount of glucose, eventually leading to more esters after fermentation with the right yeast strain. Coincidentally, the 45 °C of the maltase rest is the same temperature that is also necessary for the ferulic acid rest.

The recipe that I came up with for my Hefeweizen looks like this:

Grist:

  • 66.6% Pale Wheat malt
  • 18.5% Pilsner malt
  • 9.3% Munich malt (dark)
  • 5.6% CaraMunich II

Hops:

  • 0.5 g/l Hallertauer Tradition (7% AA) first wort hopping
  • 0.25 g/l Hallertauer Mittelfrüh (3% AA) @ 20 min

60 minute boil. 10 IBU. Mash as described above. WB-06 yeast. OG 13.25 °P. For carbonation, I’m using about 7.5% of the wort as Speise.

For fermentation itself, I’m chilling the wort down to about 17 °C, then I’ll pitch the yeast, and will let the temperature freely rise to ambient temperature (about 23 °C in my flat at the moment). Fermentis recommends for the WB-06 yeast to keep a temperature below 22 °C for clove flavors and above 23 °C for banana flavors. Given that my wort provides the yeast with enough glucose and ferulic acid to actually produce either flavors above the perception threshold, I should be fine with that fermentation schedule to achieve a hopefully balanced Hefeweizen with all the right aromas and flavors and none of the wrong ones.

As soon as the beer is finished, I’ll report back about the results.

Berlin Homebrewing Competition 2015: My English Brown Ale Recipe

As mentioned in my previous article about my results at the Berlin Homebrewing competition 2015, I’m publishing the recipe to my best-performing beer, the English Brown Ale that I submitted to the Brown Ale, Porter, Stout category.

This beer was the first one that I designed for that competition, and since it was announced early that the overall winner would be brewed by Berlin microbrewery, I actually designed the beer to be not contain any too exotic malts or other ingredients, as this could theoretically have been a show-stopper for realizing the recipe at a larger recipe that doesn’t have a malt storage as well-sorted as a homebrewing store. So, that’s what it looks like:

Grist:

  • 67 % Pale Ale Malt
  • 21 % Munich Malt (dark)
  • 11 % CaraAroma
  • 1 % Chocolate Malt

Hops:

  • 1.5 g/l East Kent Goldings (5.8 % AA) @ 60 min
  • 0.75 g/l East Kent Goldings (5.8 % AA) @ 15 min

60 minute mash at 69 °C, then a 60 minute boil. S-04 yeast. OG was 12 °P, FG was 3 °P. 4.8 % ABV. 26 IBU.

The recipe actually went through some refining. The previous version contained only half the amount of Munich malt, only 8.5 % CaraAroma, and a tiny bit more Chocolate Malt. And even the first version is based off another recipe that I had brewed in early 2014, an English Dark Mild, which consisted of 87% Mild Ale malt, 11.5 % CaraAroma and 1.5 % Black Malt. The mix of Pale Ale and Munich Malt is something that I conceived to get a nuttier character into the base malt instead of just plain German-produced Pale Ale Malt. But I think in total, the idea of the dark mild showed through in the brown ale, which in some ways make the latter mostly a bigger version of the former. And I think the end result was definitely pleasant.

Berlin Homebrewing Competiton 2015: Results

Last Thursday, the results of this year’s Berlin homebrewing competition were announced. You can find the winners on the competition website. Congratulations to all the category winners, and especially so to the overall winner, Jörg Schloemer, whose beer “Vienna Calling” will be brewed by Heidenpeters later this year!

Many thanks also go out to Rory, who organized the whole competition to make homebrewing more visible and promote it in Berlin.

I did not win, but of my three submissions, one was particularly well-received by the judges, one showed flaws in the fermentation process of that particular batch, and one… well, judging from the comments, I think half of the judges didn’t fully grasp the beer style. I hold no grudges, though, as this was nevertheless some very valuable feedback.

The beer that got a relatively good score was my English Brown Ale. What I nevertheless found interesting was how differently it was perceived. One judge commented about it as “fizzy”, another one “could be more carbonated”, the third one “CO2 is right”. The average score was 80 of 100 points (note to American readers: this competition was not judged to BJCP standards), and this also reflects in the drinkability score, where it reached a consistent 24 of 30 points by all judges. One judge noticed a very light cardboard flavour, hinting at some minor oxidation issue. This is definitely something where I need to take a closer look at how I bottle my beer.

My second best beer was my Bohemian Pilsner. The scores for that by the four judges were all over the board, with two judges giving it 74 resp. 80 points, while one only gave it 34 points, and one 54 points. One major criticism was lack of head retention and lack of carbonation, which I pretty much expected upfront. We had kegged the beer, and when we bottled the beer, we noticed that we actually didn’t have quite enough beer to fill 4 500ml bottles to submit the beer! So we had to improvise, and I got 4 330ml bottles from the corner shop, poured out the beer, and filled in our beer instead. And even to fill these bottles, we had to underfill them a bit. So of course, if you’re dealing with pouring beer around and through funnels and what not, it will lose quite a bit of fizz.

Diacetyl, a very common (but not absolutely necessary) element of Bohemian Pilsners, was the most controversial part in the judging of this beer: one judge commended on the “nice diacetyl note”, one noted “light diacetyl”, and one noticed diacetyl as an off-flavour. I disagree with the last one, because, as I mentioned, it’s a common element of Bohemian Pilsners. The prototypical Pilsner, Pilsner Urquell, is a shining example for exactly that, especially so when served in a tank bar, or unfiltered and unpasteurized from cask. Besides that, one judge thought they’d get a flavour of cinnamon, which I absolutely don’t get, and also “far too slick mouthfeel”. Maybe from the diacetyl? Nevermind.

Finally, my American Pale Ale. This was really more of an afterthought, I put together the recipe on a relatively short notice, and also used that as an opportunity to use up hop scraps from previous brews. One theme that shows through most of the five judgings was that (1) the beer was too bitter, and a harsh bitterness, even, and (2) chlorophenolic notes. This was later explained to me by one of judges as most likely coming from the Berlin water being treated with chloramine and a fermentation that was slightly too hot. It’s definitely worth noting, and makes me think that I should probably do a better temperature control even with top-fermented beers. It’s also kind of sad that the Berlin water has to be treated like that, but we need to work with what we’re given. I definitely won’t start buying distilled water and then create water profiles by adding different salts.

All in all, it was a fun event, I enjoyed developing recipes for it and then brewing them, and we got some very valuable feedback. I’ll post the recipe of my English Brown Ale soon, and explain more about it.

Vienna Lager: the Aftermath

The result.
The result.

As blogged previously, I had looked a bit into the historic roots of Vienna lager, a beer style that was quite successful in the 19th century in Europe, but has since then been forgotten in its country of origin, and had only been revived through the US craft beer movement.

In April, I finally managed to brew the beer, and it fermented and matured in the weeks afterwards. It’s been lagering for a while, but a few weeks ago, it was finally ready and also finished carbonating (I had kegged the beer and force-carbonated it). The end result is a good, quaffable lager at 5% ABV, though a bit rough around the edges.

What I do like about the beer is that it just puts the intense maltiness of Vienna malt in the foreground, accentuated by a bit of residual sweetness due to a very poorly attenuating yeast. What I don’t like so much about it is how the hops play together with this residual sweetness: even though I only used Saaz hops as the sole hop addition for bittering, the beer got a very spicy hop flavour. That would be great in a dryer beer, but with 4°P final gravity, it’s just a tad too sweet, and that just clashes a bit. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a good beer, and I’ll happily drink it, but the next one I’d do differently. Definitely a better attenuating lager yeast, and maybe a different hop variety. I think I really need to research Austrian 19th century hops wrt. to what Anton Dreher used in his beers. As mentioned in one of my previous articles, it’s very unfortunate that Austrian hop land races were (presumably) lost either due to illnesses (which ultimately brought us Styrian Goldings) or a forced stop of any hop-growing activities by the Nazis (as it happened in Mühlviertel, Upper Austria).

Another lesson that I learned was that the WLP820 yeast strain, at least in its first fermentation, is extremely slow. I even employed a quick lagering schedule with which I had had success in previous beers, but it still took 3 weeks until fermentation completely stopped. At least it behaved pretty much as expected, and was only a tiny bit more attenuative than its historic predecessor. Starting at 13°P original gravity, it fermented down to 4°P, while brewing records show something closer to 4.5°P to have been the beer’s final gravity. That’s fine with me, really.

All in all, it was definitely an interesting exercise, with a tasty outcome, and I really learned what works and (more importantly!) what doesn’t with Vienna lagers.

Brewing a Vienna Lager

About a month ago, I posted about some things I found out about Vienna lagers, and how the historic original probably was like compared to modern versions of that style.

So yesterday, we finally got around to brewing it on my own. I compromised a bit in the whole process, though, just to make a few things a bit easier for me. In particular, I decided not to do a decoction mash.

I use a Weck preserving cooker as a mash tun, as it can contain plenty of liquid for the mash, and it’s electrically heatable, allowing to go through specific rest temperatures without having to resort to having to add hot water later. Just don’t trust the internal thermostat, and use a proper food thermometer instead.

I used 20 liters of water at 66 °C, and mashed in 5.3 kg of Vienna malt. The resulting mash was at 62 °C, and from there on I did a simple Hochkurz infusion mash:

  • 30 minutes at 62 °C
  • 20 minutes at 72 °C
  • 10 minutes at 78 °C

For modern malts and a high degree of diastatic base malts (like 100% in this case), that’s good enough to fully convert all starches.

After an iodine test showed that all starches were indeed converted, we continued with lautering. For that, we use a simple bucket from my preferred homebrewing online store, with a Mattmill false bottom.

For sparging, we always employ a colander with a food container lid set in the middle, to sprinkle hot water on the mash. BTW, my hot water is… my boiler. My flat contains a large boiler that actually delivers 80 °C hot water. Perfect for sparging.

 

The collected wort showed a pre-boil gravity of about 12 Brix, which later turned out to be probably not quite exact. I think I need to recalibrate it with distilled water. *sigh*

Anyway, we boiled it for 90 minutes, with 60 grams of Saaz hops for bittering, and no other hop addition.

After a whirlpool, I moved the wort to a fermentation bucket, and cooled it down to 20 °C with an immersion chiller, then moved it to my keezer to further cool it to 11 °C.

The hydrometer showed a bit more than 13 °P as original gravity, while the refractometer showed 14 Brix. A recalibration really seems necessary.

Finally, in the evening, I pitched a starter of WLP820 yeast. That should give a low attenuation comparable to the lager yeast that was used in the 19th century in Anton Dreher’s brewery. The beer is going to ferment in the next two weeks or so. I’ll use Brülosopher’s quick lagering method, as I’ve had some good experience with it in previous batches of lager brewing.

As soon as the beer is finished lagering and carbonating, I’ll post a report about the final result.

My First IPA

About two years ago, a friend of mine got married. I was a relatively inexperienced homebrewer then, but my previous few beers turned out quite alright, so though I’d be bold and try to… *gasp* design my own IPA recipe as a wedding present!

I looked at existing recipes, how they were put together, and then I checked what was available from the homebrewing online store of my choice, and chose a few things that sounded good to me. I emphasize “sounded” because I had really only read about different hop and malt varieties, and recommended yeast strains for IPAs, but that was it.

Grist:

  • 85 % Pale Ale Malt
  • 10 % Vienna Malt
  • 5 % CaraHell

Hops:

  • 1.5 g/l Summit (15% AA) @ 60 min
  • 1.5 g/l Cascade (5.8% AA) @ 10 min
  • 1.5g/l East Kent Goldings (4.8% AA) @ 14 days dry-hopping
  • 1.5g/l Cascade (5.8% AA) @ 14 days dry-hopping
  • 1g/l Summit (15% AA) @ 14 days dry-hopping

90 minute mash at 68 °C, then 60 minutes of boiling. US-05 yeast. OG was 16.5 °P, FG was 4°P.

Fortunately, the result was a big success. I haven’t brewed it since then, but I’m still astonished how well this beer turned out to be. A bit of a lucky shot, but whatever. Just don’t ask me why I put it together like that. If I designed an American IPA recipe nowadays, I wouldn’t do things too differently, though.

Reflections on Beer Taxonomy

People are obsessed with taxonomy. Classifying things. Grouping things by how similar they are in certain properties, and to distinguish them. Everything. Flora and fauna, chemical compounds, diseases, fonts, whatever you can imagine. And of course beer.

So obviously, there are different kinds of beers, often distinguished by colour, alcohol strength, aroma, flavour, ingredients, and often connected to a certain locality.

So different people got together, and put much thought into classifying beer, and put these characteristics into beer style guidelines. The Beer Judge Certification Program Style Guideline is a very common one among homebrewers. Then there’s the Brewers Association Beer Style Guidelines, developed and annually updated as guideline for professional beer judging. CAMRA, the Campaign for Real Ale, also has their own style guidelines, which are mostly focused on British beer, i.e. milds, bitters, golden ales, porters, stouts, and similar styles.

But when you look at these style guidelines, they contradict each other in lots of details. I criticized this earlier in my article about Vienna lager. Such contradiction is only natural and to be expected, because, well, humans are humans, and humans have opinions, sometimes very strong ones. The understanding of lots of beer styles is a rather informal one, so beers are grouped by similarity, and then from this similarity, a more general description is derived. And edge cases are often the problem here.

Some people go crazy about styles. Especially among homebrewers I’ve noticed that the BJCP guidelines are seen as the universal truth and gospel, even though claims about a lot of beer styles are completely unfounded and ahistorical. In the extreme cases this leads to people beers brewed after historic recipes as “not true to style“, because of minuscule details they or someone else might have just made up or misinterpreted.

Or another case that I stumbled upon, is this hilarious question on reddit recently about Hall&Woodhouse’s Poacher’s Choice. The important question is whether this beer is a strong ale or a winter warmer.  There wasn’t much response to this, but people argued it may be a strong ale, a strong pale ale, or a winter warmer, but probably not a winter warmer, because they usually are spiced. WAT? What is the difference between a strong ale and a strong pale ale in the first place, and what is a winter warmer? A case of people assuming something about a beer style, even though there is not the slightest bit of consensus in sight. Last time I checked, none of the style guidelines are really clear on that. Plus I don’t think there’s any useful definition of a winter warmer out there in the first place.

But that’s a general problem, especially with English beer styles: some beers are just too similar. Fuller’s, and that’s always my favourite example, makes three different beers from the same grist, but doing three runnings, and then blending them to get three different worts of different strength.

For whatever reason, may it be disillusionment, or just an attempt of distinguishing yourself from others, more and more brewers and beer producing companies went a post-modern way of describing beer styles, where all styles basically got deconstructed, and aspects of beer styles got reduced to simple terms and attributes, and everyone can just pick them up, put them together as they like.

Golden, Blonde, Pale, Amber, Dark, Black, Red, Brown, White, Belgian, English, Norwegian, American, India, Imperial, Double, Triple, Session, Strong, Farmhouse, Abbey, Wheat, Rye, Spelt, Old, Aged, Infused, Ale, Helles, Stout, Porter, Lager, Pilsner, Lambic, Hefeweizen, Gose, Saison.

This, of course, gets absurd really quickly, where breweries release beers that they “Imperial Porters”, using the “Imperial” to imply a stronger beer than a “normal” porter. You know what a stronger porter is called? A stout. Same with “Imperial Lager”. It’s Bockbier, really.

So, how should we deal with that? Shall the craft beer scene of the 2010’s be like the metal and rock scene 10, 15 years ago, where each band had to “invent” their very “own” music style?

I know no ultimate solution, but at least I have one idea for an approach: be more moderate in discussing styles. Less strict interpretations of arbitrary style guidelines, more reflection on existing beer styles and their history (!), all that balanced with less forced distinction. Because in the end, all that counts is that we enjoy good and creative beer, and not fight about absurd styles and names.

And now excuse me, I need to design a recipe for a Golden Imperial Session Stout Lager. 😉

P.S.: on a side note, it took me about two weeks to write this article, because WordPress seriously screwed me over and decided to simply not save a previous revision of that article, and so I had rewrite about half of the article. Another reminder why I’m sometimes not fond of IT in general and software in particular.

Berlin Homebrewing Competition 2015

For the first time, there will be a homebrewing competition this year, for homebrewers from Berlin and Brandenburg. This competition is organized by Rory Lawton. More information about the competition can be found here.

Rory is currently looking for some judges, so if you’re experienced in beer tasting and haven’t registered yet, please do so here, because you need to register by the end of March. So hurry up!

Talking about the homebrewing competition, I will be submitting beers to three out of four categories, so I’m not eligible as judge for all but one category in the first place. In addition to that, I’ll be in Northern Ireland and Yorkshire for a total of two weeks in May, when the judging takes place.

Also, I will publish recipes for my beers (an English Brown Ale, an American Pale Ale, and a Czech Pilsner) here at some point after the submission deadline, that’s the 18th of April. To be frank, I’m already quite excited about the judging results that (hopefully) will be published at some point in May. Homebrewing competitions in Germany are… rare, to say the least, so getting absolutely honest and unbiased feedback from an anonymized tasting is something to look forward to.