BJCP Study Group: Category 11
¶ by Rob FrieselAfter the whirlwind that was last time, study group session #7 covered a single and (allegedly) stylistically narrow category: the British Bitters.
After the whirlwind that was last time, study group session #7 covered a single and (allegedly) stylistically narrow category: the British Bitters.
Long time readers of these beer-brewing chronicles will nod in understanding when I say that I like brewing with rye. I like the spicy flavor. I like how it typically dries out a beer. And as a (mostly) BIAB brewer, I haven’t had to fuss with its notorious lautering issues. When I had yeast left over from Codependent Droid and Awkward Gingham, I wondered… What else could I ferment with that 3068? Naturally, the answer was to make a Roggenbier, thus Count Roggen!
Session #6 of our BJCP study group combined two categories that almost everyone who drinks craft beer in the United States should be pretty familiar with. With the exception of a couple of odd ball sub-styles (looking at you, Red IPA), we somehow managed to do a tasting run of nearly every flavor the two categories had to offer.
When the early summer strawberry season came on the horizon, my thoughts turned to Awkward Gingham 1 and how badly I needed to re-attempt that beer. Given how much I’d learned since that clumsy 2015 attempt, 2 and given the nostalgia I was feeling for that clumsy 2015 attempt… it seemed totally appropriate to once again try my hand at Awkward Gingham (Mk. II), my strawberry wheat beer:
For study group #5, we stuck with the bitter European beers and tackled Category 7. Similar to last time, examples in this category turned out to be difficult to find — and the ones that our coordinator did find were all brewed in the United States or Canada. Regardless of their country of origin, we had what we needed to tuck in.
A friend (J.P.) and his son (O.) are pulling a bread dough out of a machine and shaping it. Periodically, one of them will duck over to an enormous, wood-fired, brick oven and stoke it. When you inquire about what they were doing, J.P. explains that he spent the last year on a sabbatical, learning advanced bread (and pasta) making techniques. When you press him further, he explains that he was inspired when he learned about an annual contest wherein entrants bake elaborate, lifelike (and often life-size) dogs. He is convinced that this year he will win. He will bake and enter a life-size Irish wolfhound, complete with spaghetti dangling as fur from the bread.
Reconvening on cadence, our BJCP study group jumped from Category 2 to Category 5. 1 Right off the bat, our coordinator let us know that these beers turned out to be fairly difficult to find commercial examples of — which was to say, only 2 of the 4 would get the professional treatment that night. Oh well… I guess we’ll all need to keep our eyes peeled for Beck’s Light.
I have a love/mostly-hate relationship with wheat beers. Most of the wheat beers I’ve had, I could do without; it’s either “too much banana ester!” or “ugh too grainy!” But once in a while there’s one that’s just right. It’s hard to put my finger on it. In an effort to get there, I thought I might make one of my own, just to see if that might help me on the quest of discovery. Thus: Codependent Droid:
I can’t really take credit for this one. I showed up to help with the brewing, and I pitched my own yeast… but in most ways I was just an innocent bystander. That being said, I’m an innocent bystander who, for his part, got a delicious saison out of the deal. A clone of Brooklyn Brewery’s Sorachi Ace Saison:
Our BJCP study group reconvened on cadence, this time to cover Category 2. Two brief asides about that: first, that our main BJCP mentor recommended against going in straight category order, and instead to choose the styles based on the season, meaning to hold off on those stouts and bocks until it got cooler 1; the second was that the session coordinator duties were now on a rotation, and I’d volunteered to cover this session. Continue reading →