For its own sake, I have banished my budding beer to warmer climes. For the past few days, fermentation repeatedly ceased, and I had to slosh the bucket to bring the sedimenting yeast back into suspension. Not only will this definitely do no good to clear up my murky brew, it will also lead to all kinds of off flavours I really could do without.
Turns out the Moinette yeast I'm using is a saison yeast, which are notorious for requiring rather high fermentation temperatures. Not that this makes a whole lot of sense to me since saison was a summer beer, and hence brewed in the coldest months of winter, but hey, that's brewers' logic for you.
As I was reluctantly championing the idea of a yeastbox to the Missus, she spoke thusly (more or less verbatim):
"Darling dearest, do you really want to be tinkering with old refrigerators, dangerous electronics, various bits of carpentry and isolation and no doubt highly dangerous equipment and tools, just to build a box to keep your beer warm when we have a perfectly suitable boiler room upstairs?"
Men of the world, take heed: without the collective aid of our Missuses (*), there would be no beer in the world. I'm sure of it.
(*) Missus-es. Not Miss-uses. That's another blog you're searching for.
So up the stairs with the bucket, into the comfortably warm confines of the boiler room, the warmest (and most reliably warm) room in the house. Another slosh slosh slosh just to make sure the yeast knows I'm serious this time, and off to bed.
And yes, the Missus was right, as she so often is. This morning, my beer was steadily churning out CO2 at about one centi-bubblium (that's NuBru speak for "one bubbly fart per minute"), without the need to slosh it around anymore.
A keen eye shall be kept on the evolving brew, and frequent updates shall be posted. For great justice!
Greetz
Jo
Turns out the Moinette yeast I'm using is a saison yeast, which are notorious for requiring rather high fermentation temperatures. Not that this makes a whole lot of sense to me since saison was a summer beer, and hence brewed in the coldest months of winter, but hey, that's brewers' logic for you.
As I was reluctantly championing the idea of a yeastbox to the Missus, she spoke thusly (more or less verbatim):
"Darling dearest, do you really want to be tinkering with old refrigerators, dangerous electronics, various bits of carpentry and isolation and no doubt highly dangerous equipment and tools, just to build a box to keep your beer warm when we have a perfectly suitable boiler room upstairs?"
Men of the world, take heed: without the collective aid of our Missuses (*), there would be no beer in the world. I'm sure of it.
 |
| Because the world would be a poorer place without either. |
(*) Missus-es. Not Miss-uses. That's another blog you're searching for.
So up the stairs with the bucket, into the comfortably warm confines of the boiler room, the warmest (and most reliably warm) room in the house. Another slosh slosh slosh just to make sure the yeast knows I'm serious this time, and off to bed.
And yes, the Missus was right, as she so often is. This morning, my beer was steadily churning out CO2 at about one centi-bubblium (that's NuBru speak for "one bubbly fart per minute"), without the need to slosh it around anymore.
A keen eye shall be kept on the evolving brew, and frequent updates shall be posted. For great justice!
Greetz
Jo
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