This were looking grim this morning. The first rays of the mid-september sun awoke the sound of dismayed groaning, a bit of wailing and the occasional gnashing of the teeth.
The surface of my slowly awakening yeast colony was dotted by little white islands of, for want of a better word, muck.
That, my fellow uninitiated yeast enthusiasts, looks like mould to me. A quick and cautious sniff, however, revealed no suspicious odours, so I left things as they were. But I admit: the spirit of the moment was lost and I was about ready to pour the contents of the flask, microbiological denizens and all, into the sink.
Read that last paragraph again. Notice the past tense? Notice how the tension builds up, and you're left wondering how things went from there?
Oh enough already, here's what things look like right now:
Now hold your horses, I know what you're thinking. "But that looks even muckier than before! Why don't you trash the whole thing for it starts to stink up the place?"
But no! See that foamy mess between the clots of the other white mess? That's the yeast head forming! We're in the clear! They live!
THEY!
LIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVEEE!
(A quick recap for the slow-witted or the unaware: the yeast I'm cultivating is a top-fermenting yeast. This means that as it gets more active, it'll form a white, dense head of yeasty froth on top of the wort. And what we're seeing here is the birth of that very head. Yes, you read that right: we're watching the birth of a head)
But wait! It gets even better!
There's a reason why the above is a movie clip and not another boring still picture: it moves! There's life in this muck, and the rising bubbles indicate that the yeast is busy producing carbon dioxide. Of course, I don't want it to be producing too much of that; I'd rather have it focus on producing more yeast, but hey, we're on a roll here!
All this notwithstanding, I'm still set to start a parallel batch of Westmalle yeast. Because pessimism isn't all about the glass being half empty, but also about being prepared for the worst. As long as the yeast isn't more active, it's still at risk of being infected by all sorts of nasties which consider wort to be the ideal breeding grounds. And I don't want moulds, bacteria or duck-billed platypi pissing in my wort, thank you very much.
Go little yeasties, go! You're doing great!
Greetz
Jo
The surface of my slowly awakening yeast colony was dotted by little white islands of, for want of a better word, muck.
 |
| This can't be good, can it? |
That, my fellow uninitiated yeast enthusiasts, looks like mould to me. A quick and cautious sniff, however, revealed no suspicious odours, so I left things as they were. But I admit: the spirit of the moment was lost and I was about ready to pour the contents of the flask, microbiological denizens and all, into the sink.
Read that last paragraph again. Notice the past tense? Notice how the tension builds up, and you're left wondering how things went from there?
Oh enough already, here's what things look like right now:
 |
| This must be good, mustn't it? |
Now hold your horses, I know what you're thinking. "But that looks even muckier than before! Why don't you trash the whole thing for it starts to stink up the place?"
But no! See that foamy mess between the clots of the other white mess? That's the yeast head forming! We're in the clear! They live!
THEY!
LIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVEEE!
(A quick recap for the slow-witted or the unaware: the yeast I'm cultivating is a top-fermenting yeast. This means that as it gets more active, it'll form a white, dense head of yeasty froth on top of the wort. And what we're seeing here is the birth of that very head. Yes, you read that right: we're watching the birth of a head)
But wait! It gets even better!
There's a reason why the above is a movie clip and not another boring still picture: it moves! There's life in this muck, and the rising bubbles indicate that the yeast is busy producing carbon dioxide. Of course, I don't want it to be producing too much of that; I'd rather have it focus on producing more yeast, but hey, we're on a roll here!
All this notwithstanding, I'm still set to start a parallel batch of Westmalle yeast. Because pessimism isn't all about the glass being half empty, but also about being prepared for the worst. As long as the yeast isn't more active, it's still at risk of being infected by all sorts of nasties which consider wort to be the ideal breeding grounds. And I don't want moulds, bacteria or duck-billed platypi pissing in my wort, thank you very much.
Go little yeasties, go! You're doing great!
Greetz
Jo
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten