Brewing: The Experience

A side-ways glance or an “awesome” seems to be the two responses when I tell people that I brew my own beer. Just to get it out of the way, yes, I’m a young lady, and yes, I really enjoy beer. Truth be told, it was one of the years that I ruined Christmas by guessing my present, a good-quality homebrew kit. I really just wanted it; I hadn’t realized that it was going to be my present. A good guess started my adventure into homebrewing.

I’m not a homebrewing fanatic. I don’t have multiple batches going every day. I don’t have all of the latest equipment. I don’t test the gravity of my beer. I haven’t done a deep dive into the chemistry behind each of the malts, yeast and hops. I even use malt extract. I’m not looking for beer on the cheap.

At this point you may be asking yourself, Why does she even brew?

Brewing is all about the experience for me. While I can be on auto-pilot while doing it, I can also use my brain to figure out the reactions and predict the result. I have adventure when I work my own random recipes with added suspense because of an unknown result. I can taste the malted grain before I put it in the grain bag. I can smell each step of the process: steeping, adding the extract, adding the hops and the final smell of a well put together wort. The malt extract whirling into the pot, and the whole hops dancing in the boiling wort or the hop pellets in a frothy disintegration are always treats for the eyes.

It’s relaxing, it’s systematic, is what you make it. Brewing hits all of your senses. I can’t deny the feeling of accomplishment and success. When your pet project gets approval from your friends, and your own discerning taste buds, it’s a wonderful feeling.

I brew beer for me. I brew beer for the experience. I brew beer for the overload of the senses.