Homebrew bottling!

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Hey everyone. This is part two of the homebrew on my first stout, an imperial version. I’m not sure why more people aren’t homebrewing, but it’s a shame. The majority of beer on the market tastes the same and they cut corners. Homebrewing allows you to get the flavors, fats, tanins, aroma, bitterness, and other amazing things for your taste buds and nose that overly manufactured beers in plants cannot duplicate. Get back to your roots, no matter what part of the globe you hail from, and begin homebrewing.

 

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First you need to set stuff up, which includes caps (cleaned and sanitized), carbonation tablets (or dissolved sugar), and a cap presser. There’s many ways to do bottle and make beer, I choose the easiest for me.

Once your beer has completely finished the fermentation process, it’s ready for bottling. MAKE SURE YOUR BOTTLES AND ANYTHING YOU WILL USE IS CLEAN AND SANITIZED. You’ll need to get the beer from the fermentation bucket to each bottle. Plastic hosing makes the job fairly simple.

Since I use carbonation tablets, I place them in the bottle prior to putting beer in each bottle. As you transfer beer to the bottles, make sure you pay attention so you don’t over fill the bottles and spill your beer.

Once you get to the bottom of your fermentation bucket, you’ll run into trub. Here’s a photo.

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The trub is not good for your finished beer and you should avoid getting any of it into your bottles. In this photo, the liquid is still good and relatively free of sediment so you need to tilt your bucket toward the spigot so you can get a few more bottles filled. Once there’s no more liquid and all you see is sediment, that’s it, your done.

Here’s a few photos of what my homebrew bottling set-up looks like. You’ll notice bottles on both side sides of the bottling bucket (with tubing already attached). You keen observers will see that the bucket reads “Deluxe Fermenter.” That is because I have two buckets with spigots, but for bottling, I use a lid with no hole. The fermenter bucket has a lid with a hole for the airlock. You’ll also noticed little white pellets in the bottles. I experiment often, so on the left the bottles contain four carbonation tablets, on the right the bottles contain five.

 

Once the bottles are filled, you have to put a cap on them, crimp the cap, then leave them in room temperature for at least a week. Stouts are normally left out about two weeks because the carbonation process takes a little longer for stouts than other beers. Here’s a few photos of the finished bottling process.

I bottled this case of imperial stout on 9/2/16. I placed it in the refrigerator today, 9/12/16. I know I just got done saying maybe two weeks in room temperature after bottling is ideal for stout, but I COULDN’T WAIT. I drank some of this right out of the fermenter and it was far better than I could have hoped for. I’m eager to drink it and share it with my friends, so I placed it in the refrigerator slightly early. I’ll get over it.

I just started a lager-like ale that I messed with the recipe hoping to get my version of Coors Light. You read that right, Coors Light. I love the blue mountains, and I’m not a homebrew-craftbrew snob. I’ll keep you guys posted.

**AS A SIDE NOTE… REMEMBER THAT LOVE TRULY CAN CONQUER ALL. YOU JUST HAVE TO BELIEVE IN LOVE.

-Chris

Home Brewing

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HOME BREWING BLOG- August 19, 2016

IMG_3981          Stout grains, malt, and barley.

 

You know how everyone thinks they can sing and they get on TV and look bad? Real bad. The same is true of those who think they can write or do some other craft without putting in the work and studying what it is they wish to be good, even great, at. I’m putting my 20-plus years of beer drinking, sometimes heavy, behind my latest adventure, HOME BREWING. Since I have no plans to be the-next-big-thing and only want to share my wares with friends and family, I’ve decided to document the entire process.

Let’s begin.

I’ve sunk a few hundred into a home brew set-up from HopTech in Dublin, CA. Well worth the dough. Jade and the staff there are helpful, courteous, and craft some seriously amazing beer. I’m hoping some of their expertise and experience filters down to me.

Finding a place to brew was difficult. I basically muscled my way into my wife’s kitchen (even though I built it for her with her dad). As an interesting side note, I usually have to clean up the kitchen and do dishes to get enough room to work. I haven’t heard any complaints yet about that part of my home brewing.

I started with a kit I got as a gift. The list of what the kit had was about eight items. The list of what the kit “suggested,” and altogether was required TO ACTUALLY BREW, was about ten other items. That’s where HopTech filled in the blanks and sold me some cool stuff.

My first beer, a standard IPA, in a one-gallon batch came out awful. I realize now that I did pretty much everything wrong. I was clean, I didn’t sanitize stuff, and I used my mouth to siphon beer from the kettle to the bottles. All those nasty germs in my mouth got into the beer and turned it sour. Sour beer is huge right now, but those brewers making it know what they are doing and make it sour intentionally. Me. Not so much.

My second attempt, the one I thought would propel me to the level of let’s say, Russian River Brewery, Ballast Point, Green Flash, and Sierra Nevada, came out remarkably better. Lots of sediment and it’s not entirely what I expected, but I bit off more than I could chew and the result shows. I am powering them down; however, which left plenty of empty bottles around. Empty bottles need filling, so I rolled over to HopTech and picked up a recipe for an Imperial Stout.

I just got the wurt with yeast into the fermenter last night and the air lock is already chattering. I’ll keep you guys posted.

-Chris

Free form poetry.

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The Shallows

I can’t turn away, let my eyes drift with the sea.

The beauty, her complex levels,

her almost letting go completely,

yet close enough to be rescued pulls me deeper.

In the water, on land, wherever my weary heart travels,

she is there. Bubbles mingle with timeless boulders,

intertwined like new lovers, drawing me into the current.

My heart, a ship searching for land, and comfort,

somewhere to throw an anchor, somewhere to finally settle down,

swells. Today, right now, I’ve finally found the courage

to tell her how I feel.

(c) C. L. Swinney 2016

From my upcoming chap-book: Gloves Come Off

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Real Talk

 

Your tainted mouth kills

my ears, my heart, my weary

soul and words have failed.

(c) C. L. Swinney 2016

He’s there when you look away.

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He’s There When You Look Away

 

In a pool of his own urine he sleeps,

homeless, scared, and lacking food or shelter.

Then along comes the law, this sight he weeps.

People turn away, all helter-skelter,

while the rest of us throw most of our scraps

away, cast long and menacing sharp glares.

For what? What does your heart see as he naps?

Your soul and heart should burn wild like flares.

Pretending he is not there, no answer,

but strife. Remember he is still a man.

Most fought to protect and came home with cancer.

Some fraud, not he, looking for an open hand

and I’ll be damned if I didn’t get involved

while you sit there…a conscious un-evolved.

(c) C.L.Swinney 2016

free form poetry

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Policing a Community

A salty policeman struggles to hold a

stranger’s hand. Spirited skateboard park

meetings force him from the comfort

of a cruiser along an uneven path through

downtown streets- wearing muddy boots

that crush his aspirations. They can

manage the stress, but where trust once

existed media stripped completely away. Recall

when police risked their lives for “strangers,” yet

you knew them and they knew you, back when the

word “neighborhood” held meaning. You’d call us

during an emergency and wouldn’t dare to ask

me to raise your kids or scare them straight for you.

Civil disputes between childish adults tear

at the very foundation of our society.

Yes, we’re wired for scary things: to

hunt active shooters, protect the innocent,

and enforce the law- no matter how antique.

But, integration hoping to crush robots lies

in another galaxy. Handle your human problems

and we’ll chase then confront evil, head-on,

so you can pretend it does not exist.

The Pitfalls of Workman’s Comp.

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The suspect, after robbing a bank and holding an elderly female hostage, sprang to my left almost daring me to chase. I could hear the sirens of my partners coming quickly but a voice inside told me to pursue. We leaped over fences like Gazelle and I caught up with him with ease. We began to wrestle on the ground, it’s then that I realized he was a mountain of a man. He clearly had MMA training, as did I, and we took turns trying to pass each other’s guard- looking for an opportunity to end this. He made a move for my sidearm and that’s when the bell in my head said, “Do something now!” When it was over, I pulled myself up from the ground and instantly felt shooting pain in my back, shoulder, and arm. Uh oh.

Okay, okay. It didn’t quite go that way…

I’d like to say I was doing something great when I injured myself at work, but alas, I was not- in fact, it was as ordinary of a Thursday as one might imagine. The Ford Taurus (at least the law enforcement version) is notoriously narrow in the driver’s seat. For a fella like myself with many tools on my belt and perhaps a few extra pounds, it’s EXTREMELY narrow. In fact, most guys I know have to twist and contort their body to get out without hanging up on  the steering wheel with their gun or radio or some other piece of equipment. And that is what I did. I contorted and twisted and got out of the car near the end of my twelve hour shift and grimaced after something popped in the upper right part of my back. Fearing the fellas would “clown” me, I continued my shift and went home to pop Motrin and chase it with Makers.

Later that evening, I woke up with tremendous pain, but not just in my back, but my shoulder and elbow felt like a jackhammer was repeatedly hitting my bones and muscle. Oddly, my index finger and thumb on my right hand were also tingly and numb. Like most men, I called myself plenty of unspeakable names and sloughed off to the couch “to sleep it off.” I had hoped whatever it was would go away soon as my mom was coming to town for a visit.

I managed to make it to Saturday morning. The pain made my eyes water and took my breath away at times. I went to urgent care, and although I know the doctor meant well, he managed to make the pain almost unbearable. He shewed me out of his office and like the pill junkies I used to chase, I drove as fast as possible to Walgreens to “get my fix.” Unfortunately, the pharmacist reminded me I couldn’t drive if I took two of the medications. I drove a bit too fast and rather rudely home, ripped open the pill bottles, and took them hoping for a miracle. NOTHING HAPPENED.

Fast forward through six weeks, three doctor visits, three physical therapy sessions, two changes in medications, a pending acupuncture session, and STILL, the same pain in the same spots (and no x-ray or MRI). The only change being that instead of sleeping like a posed murder scene on the couch each night, after four weeks, I finally managed to sleep one night in my own bed. I’ve been going through Kaiser because the injury is work-related and being handled through workman’s comp. I originally bad-mouthed some of the staff to my wife, but honestly, it was the pain, lack of sleep, and my own lack of understanding my injury that was talking. Overall, the people there seem knowledgeable and friendly.

However, the pitfalls of workman’s comp is that THERE IS NO ONE TO TELL YOU WHAT IT WILL BE LIKE. Sure you can ask around and put bits and pieces of the puzzle together, but that’s not enough.

I’ve worked most of my life, beginning in high school. I’m known for being a hard worker and helping others- it’s what I do. So sitting at home has taught me a valuable life lesson: You must be about you, and not about your job. Your job cannot define you completely. You must realize that family and friends, coupled with other interests, must remain your focal point, not the job. I’m not saying my job isn’t important and I’m not saying you shouldn’t do your very best every single shift. But, if I don’t ever go back, no one will miss me. The machine will continue to run…and prosper. My employer will actually save money if I’m forced to medically retire. I’ve left no legacy at the office. I’ve built a strong and admirable reputation sure, but some kid coming up through the ranks will meet and eclipse what I’ve already done in a shorter amount of time- making most of what I’ve done obsolete. And, THAT’S OK.

I’m making dinner, even recipes off Pinterest (don’t judge), more these days. I’m reading more, helping more around the house, helping more with the kids, and I actually feel better. Having said that, there’s been moments where I’ve walked the block looking for mischief and my eyes have burned from watching too many shows on television (many of which I had no idea would EVER be on television. I’ve even cracked a few brewskies, helped my buddy with his startup company, and sketched out the outlines of a few more books. This has been an eye-opening event, one that I started out wishing like hell never happened. But now, I’m enjoying the change and looking forward to the future with an open mind.