INTRoduction to craft beer
I’m not only passionate about beer – I’m beer obsessed! My obsession began in the late 80s with my first sip of Guinness Extra Stout at a Grateful Dead show. I was both shocked and intrigued how people could drink such bitter liquid. This beer, after all, was a lot different from the pale lagers, like Heineken, Rolling Rock, and Henry Weinhards, I was used to drinking. (For the record, I’ve never been able to drink the American staples of Budweiser, Miller, Coors, etc.) But I made my way through the bottle and realized that there was truly something special about these different beers I was seeing other “Dead Heads” drink, and that I needed to find out what that something was. It turned out that the guy who gave me that Guinness was a homebrewer, and being scientifically oriented, it immediately sparked my imagination…..
The lure of the Grateful Dead, the San Francisco Bay Area, and the Sierra Nevada, led me to relocate to Yosemite, California. It was here where “Microbrews”, today known as “Craft Beer”, became an integral part of my life. There was nothing like ending a great day of climbing by cracking open a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale or Anchor Brewing’s Anchor Steam at the trail head with my mates and taking in the alpenglow of the Sierra Nevada. In addition to Sierra Nevada and Anchor Brewing’s offerings, I also was exposed to the likes of Pete’s Wicked Ale and Saint Stans, which were also Northern California based.
After a couple seasons in Yosemite, I moved to Lake Tahoe, California to pursue my passion for snowboarding; my access to diversely stocked bottle shops was greatly improved. I started attending craft beer festivals, and visiting brewpubs like Hubsch Brau in Davis, Seabright Brewery in Santa Cruz. I also started selling beer at Grateful Dead Shows on Shakedown Street (name given to the area at a given venue’s car park where Dead Heads gathered to trade items illicit or otherwise). Some Dead Head favorites were Samuel Smith’s Taddy Porter, Nut Brown Ale, and Oatmeal Stout, Sierra Nevada’s Pale Ale, Porter, and Stout, Anchor Steam, Redhook Ale, and Samuel Adams Boston Lager.
Living in Lake Tahoe also allowed introduction to homebrewing through two friends and, most importantly, introduction to the South African girl who is now my wife…………
The lure of the Grateful Dead, the San Francisco Bay Area, and the Sierra Nevada, led me to relocate to Yosemite, California. It was here where “Microbrews”, today known as “Craft Beer”, became an integral part of my life. There was nothing like ending a great day of climbing by cracking open a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale or Anchor Brewing’s Anchor Steam at the trail head with my mates and taking in the alpenglow of the Sierra Nevada. In addition to Sierra Nevada and Anchor Brewing’s offerings, I also was exposed to the likes of Pete’s Wicked Ale and Saint Stans, which were also Northern California based.
After a couple seasons in Yosemite, I moved to Lake Tahoe, California to pursue my passion for snowboarding; my access to diversely stocked bottle shops was greatly improved. I started attending craft beer festivals, and visiting brewpubs like Hubsch Brau in Davis, Seabright Brewery in Santa Cruz. I also started selling beer at Grateful Dead Shows on Shakedown Street (name given to the area at a given venue’s car park where Dead Heads gathered to trade items illicit or otherwise). Some Dead Head favorites were Samuel Smith’s Taddy Porter, Nut Brown Ale, and Oatmeal Stout, Sierra Nevada’s Pale Ale, Porter, and Stout, Anchor Steam, Redhook Ale, and Samuel Adams Boston Lager.
Living in Lake Tahoe also allowed introduction to homebrewing through two friends and, most importantly, introduction to the South African girl who is now my wife…………
introduction to south africa
I was first introduced to South Africa in 1984 when my best friend’s family hosted an exchange student from Cape Town. My friend followed her back to Cape Town in 1985 for one year and attended Camps Bay High School while staying at her mother’s house in Tamboerskloof. He subsequently returned in 1988 to complete one year of studies at UCT.
The bit of knowledge I picked up about South Africa, for example, the country had first world infrastructure and lions didn’t walk the streets of Cape Town, proved to be useful for courting the young South African girl who landed a job in the office where I was working in Kirkwood Ski Resort in 1991.
Over pints of Ben & Jerry’s “Chunky Monkey” ice cream while working late shifts, we chatted about growing up in SA, the excesses of the Stellenbosch Maties’ lifestyle, wine, beautiful beaches, holidays in “Plett”, Nelson, Winnie, the ANC, Johnny Clegg, Paul Simon’s “Graceland” album, Ladysmith Black Mambzo, éVoid, Mango Groove, and, of course, Castle Lager and the state of South African beer.
My fascination with South Africa and the successful courting of that young girl led me on a worldwide adventure that would find me living in Cape Town three years later….
The bit of knowledge I picked up about South Africa, for example, the country had first world infrastructure and lions didn’t walk the streets of Cape Town, proved to be useful for courting the young South African girl who landed a job in the office where I was working in Kirkwood Ski Resort in 1991.
Over pints of Ben & Jerry’s “Chunky Monkey” ice cream while working late shifts, we chatted about growing up in SA, the excesses of the Stellenbosch Maties’ lifestyle, wine, beautiful beaches, holidays in “Plett”, Nelson, Winnie, the ANC, Johnny Clegg, Paul Simon’s “Graceland” album, Ladysmith Black Mambzo, éVoid, Mango Groove, and, of course, Castle Lager and the state of South African beer.
My fascination with South Africa and the successful courting of that young girl led me on a worldwide adventure that would find me living in Cape Town three years later….
brewing my first beer
My first attempt at homebrewing involved a “kit and kilo” brown ale in 1993. Samuel Smith’s Nut Brown Ale and New Castle Brown Ale were two of my favorite examples of the style back then and a good friend, who was a homebrewer, let me brew a Muntons Nut Brown Ale using a canned extract kit of his on my own while he was on holiday. I made all of the classic homebrewing mistakes, most particularly in terms of sanitizing and warm fermentation, and, in the end, I was the only one who would drink more than a sip. I finished about 4 bottles of it before I dumped the rest – the “beer” was at best terrible! But alas, the deal was sealed; I had to figure brewing out….
travelling the world
Shortly after my first attempt at homebrewing, my now South African girlfriend and I took off on our first European backpacking adventure in the summer of 1993. We dubbed it, “drinking across Europe”. In addition to rock climbing and experiencing European culture, I was a kid in a candy store sampling every beer across the UK and the Continent my tight budget would allow.
This experience changed my perception of US craft beer scene, which was still very much in its infancy. While the hop-forward US pale ales and IPAs were delicious and unique, the European beers seemed to me to be the real deal – a deal that the US craft brewers were trying to follow. Even the industrial European pale lagers, like Stella Artois and Kronenbourg 1664, stood out with a solid, malty backbone. With that said, it turns out that US craft brewers were inadvertently taking brewing creativity to a level never seen before.
After four months of hitchhiking, train rides, rock climbing, and with my initial funds running barrel-bottom-low I was fortunate and I landed a job at Berkshire Hops Ltd. near the small village of Southmoor, about 15km southwest of Oxford, England. Berkshire supplied hops for Bass and Abbington-based Morland Brewery, which was famous for its “Old Speckled Hen”. My fortune was greatened with a Morland public house being located about a 10 minute walk from the farm where I was living. I spent most of my evenings there drinking Morland Bitter for about 65p a pint! The fresh, hoppy, cask conditioned character of the beer, and the goose-necked beer engine pours, still stand out in my mind.
The following year, 1994, I finally made it to South Africa. I will never forget flying over the African continent from Athens, Greece and seeing the Nile River, nomad villages in Sudan, monstrous thunder clouds over Botswana, and the summer rains in the PWV; it was the realization of a 10-year old dream and one of the highest points in my life.
I ended up living in Observatory, Cape Town with my girlfriend and a climber friend, Andy Davies. In between climbing around the Cape, the Cedarberg, and the Eastern Transvaal, and distributing rock climbing gear, I took in all of the available South African brews I could find. I had no problem getting my fill of SAB and Mitchell’s Brewery offerings at watering holes of the time, like Ferryman’s, Perseverance Tavern, Heidelberg Tavern, and Quay Four. Castle Milk Stout, Lion Lager, Hansa Pilsener, and Mitchell’s Bosun’s Bitter became my standards. All too quickly, though, my developed pallet for great beer was left wanting. So, instead I looked to the Cape Winelands to develop my appreciation of wine.
My girlfriend and I moved back to the US in 1995 to continue our higher education and pursue professional engineering work, all the while indulging on the blossoming US craft beer scene. It was for my birthday in September of that year that my homebrewing went to the next level when my girlfriend bought me a complete homebrewing kit. From partial extract batches I quickly jumped to all-grain brewing, where I learned that I could make beer as good as what I could get in the local brewpub. I began hoarding brewing books, and trying to learn as much about brewing as I could. Brewpubs were popping up all over the western US and frequenting them quickly became a part of my lifestyle.
In between annual visits to Cape Town, I traveled to Mexico, Costa Rica, Panama, and more of Europe. I already had drank most of the standard Mexican lagers, like Corona, Negra Modelo, Tecate, Bohemia, and Pacifica, which I found to be a few steps above the US industrial counterparts. The beers in Costa Rica, like Imperial and Bavaria, had nice European-style malty backbones and seemed to fit the surfer-bum lifestyle. The German-influenced malt forward lagers and fruity weissbiers of central Europe were, as always, exquisite.
My now wife and I left the US in early 2006 and set out on a year-long rock climbing-centric trip around the globe in conjunction with moving to South Africa. We hit 13 different countries during that year drinking local beers in every one of them. The highlight for beer definitively was Belgium during our 3-day binge in Bruges. I had read about a small beerhouse with an immense selection of Belgian beers in Michael Jackson’s (famous British beer writer) book, the Beer Companion in the mid-1990s called ‘t Brugs Beertje, and I made my way there on the first day. The place was a true gem. That short visit to Belgium was just a teaser for the treat that lay ahead five years later.
The pale lagers of most of Southeast Asia I found to be akin to European industrial lagers – light, crisp, malty backbone, devoid of hops, and all well suited for the swampy, mozzie infested climate. Beer Lao, in the hilly country of Loas, stood out to me to be one of the best examples of the style. These easy drinking pale lagers also made an easy accompaniment with the heavenly spicy and fragrant cuisine.
Along with feasting on mind blowing cuisine, I developed an unlikely passion for the “king of fruits” – the durian. Apparently off-putting to most westerns, I found its sublime taste and mouthfeel to be extremely complex – not too unlike the complexity of sour beers.
India definitely was home to the worst beer on the trip. I had heard about less-than-stellar reputation of Indian beers from other travelers, and had read about glycerin supposedly being used as a preservative. I had exactly two beers on different occasions in two months in India – Kingfisher and Taj Mahal, both pale lagers – and both beers gave me hangovers of note. I definitely found something suspicious in the taste, but cannot verify the use of chemical preservatives. Nonetheless, just as with the meat in India, a traveler is well advised not to indulge.
Australia is not only home to some of the world’s most poisonous creatures, some of the worlds friendliest folks who can drink most South Africans under the table, some of the world’s best wine, but also is home to some great beer and a budding craft beer scene. On the standard grade level, Victoria Bitter and Melbourne Bitter are a few rungs higher than the industrial lagers of North America. Even for a price point winner, I was able to find something to appreciate on the pallet. The next level up I found Coopers Pale Ale, Cascade Pale Ale, and Sheaf Stout – all decent beers, particularly when compared to the lower rung offerings. On the top shelf during my time there in 2006 were Little Creatures Pale Ale and James Squire Original Amber Ale. I thought at the time that Little Creatures Pale Ale could easily hold its own against US classics like Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and Deschutes Mirror Pond Pale Ale.
During a four-week tour around New Zealand, it rained and snowed three off those weeks – in December! While Kiwi weather might be some of the worst on the planet, their beers were certainly not. Speights Gold Medal Ale, Tui East India Pale Ale, and Steinlager were all decent beers – dare I put them on the same shelf as their neighbour’s VB and MB? Yes! One of the microbreweries I visited was near the town of Nelson on a snaking road in the hills. We spent a drizzly afternoon there playing board games and drinking their modest offerings. While I don’t remember the name of the place, it was at least locally famous for offering up a pint for every dead possum its patrons drug in – rough country for possums, even the hippies want them dead! Truthfully, none of the micro-brewed beers I had during my visit stood out. This would certainly not be the case if I were to visit today with the likes of Epic Brewing Company making waves in the craft beer ocean with its Epic Pale Ale and Armageddon IPA.
This experience changed my perception of US craft beer scene, which was still very much in its infancy. While the hop-forward US pale ales and IPAs were delicious and unique, the European beers seemed to me to be the real deal – a deal that the US craft brewers were trying to follow. Even the industrial European pale lagers, like Stella Artois and Kronenbourg 1664, stood out with a solid, malty backbone. With that said, it turns out that US craft brewers were inadvertently taking brewing creativity to a level never seen before.
After four months of hitchhiking, train rides, rock climbing, and with my initial funds running barrel-bottom-low I was fortunate and I landed a job at Berkshire Hops Ltd. near the small village of Southmoor, about 15km southwest of Oxford, England. Berkshire supplied hops for Bass and Abbington-based Morland Brewery, which was famous for its “Old Speckled Hen”. My fortune was greatened with a Morland public house being located about a 10 minute walk from the farm where I was living. I spent most of my evenings there drinking Morland Bitter for about 65p a pint! The fresh, hoppy, cask conditioned character of the beer, and the goose-necked beer engine pours, still stand out in my mind.
The following year, 1994, I finally made it to South Africa. I will never forget flying over the African continent from Athens, Greece and seeing the Nile River, nomad villages in Sudan, monstrous thunder clouds over Botswana, and the summer rains in the PWV; it was the realization of a 10-year old dream and one of the highest points in my life.
I ended up living in Observatory, Cape Town with my girlfriend and a climber friend, Andy Davies. In between climbing around the Cape, the Cedarberg, and the Eastern Transvaal, and distributing rock climbing gear, I took in all of the available South African brews I could find. I had no problem getting my fill of SAB and Mitchell’s Brewery offerings at watering holes of the time, like Ferryman’s, Perseverance Tavern, Heidelberg Tavern, and Quay Four. Castle Milk Stout, Lion Lager, Hansa Pilsener, and Mitchell’s Bosun’s Bitter became my standards. All too quickly, though, my developed pallet for great beer was left wanting. So, instead I looked to the Cape Winelands to develop my appreciation of wine.
My girlfriend and I moved back to the US in 1995 to continue our higher education and pursue professional engineering work, all the while indulging on the blossoming US craft beer scene. It was for my birthday in September of that year that my homebrewing went to the next level when my girlfriend bought me a complete homebrewing kit. From partial extract batches I quickly jumped to all-grain brewing, where I learned that I could make beer as good as what I could get in the local brewpub. I began hoarding brewing books, and trying to learn as much about brewing as I could. Brewpubs were popping up all over the western US and frequenting them quickly became a part of my lifestyle.
In between annual visits to Cape Town, I traveled to Mexico, Costa Rica, Panama, and more of Europe. I already had drank most of the standard Mexican lagers, like Corona, Negra Modelo, Tecate, Bohemia, and Pacifica, which I found to be a few steps above the US industrial counterparts. The beers in Costa Rica, like Imperial and Bavaria, had nice European-style malty backbones and seemed to fit the surfer-bum lifestyle. The German-influenced malt forward lagers and fruity weissbiers of central Europe were, as always, exquisite.
My now wife and I left the US in early 2006 and set out on a year-long rock climbing-centric trip around the globe in conjunction with moving to South Africa. We hit 13 different countries during that year drinking local beers in every one of them. The highlight for beer definitively was Belgium during our 3-day binge in Bruges. I had read about a small beerhouse with an immense selection of Belgian beers in Michael Jackson’s (famous British beer writer) book, the Beer Companion in the mid-1990s called ‘t Brugs Beertje, and I made my way there on the first day. The place was a true gem. That short visit to Belgium was just a teaser for the treat that lay ahead five years later.
The pale lagers of most of Southeast Asia I found to be akin to European industrial lagers – light, crisp, malty backbone, devoid of hops, and all well suited for the swampy, mozzie infested climate. Beer Lao, in the hilly country of Loas, stood out to me to be one of the best examples of the style. These easy drinking pale lagers also made an easy accompaniment with the heavenly spicy and fragrant cuisine.
Along with feasting on mind blowing cuisine, I developed an unlikely passion for the “king of fruits” – the durian. Apparently off-putting to most westerns, I found its sublime taste and mouthfeel to be extremely complex – not too unlike the complexity of sour beers.
India definitely was home to the worst beer on the trip. I had heard about less-than-stellar reputation of Indian beers from other travelers, and had read about glycerin supposedly being used as a preservative. I had exactly two beers on different occasions in two months in India – Kingfisher and Taj Mahal, both pale lagers – and both beers gave me hangovers of note. I definitely found something suspicious in the taste, but cannot verify the use of chemical preservatives. Nonetheless, just as with the meat in India, a traveler is well advised not to indulge.
Australia is not only home to some of the world’s most poisonous creatures, some of the worlds friendliest folks who can drink most South Africans under the table, some of the world’s best wine, but also is home to some great beer and a budding craft beer scene. On the standard grade level, Victoria Bitter and Melbourne Bitter are a few rungs higher than the industrial lagers of North America. Even for a price point winner, I was able to find something to appreciate on the pallet. The next level up I found Coopers Pale Ale, Cascade Pale Ale, and Sheaf Stout – all decent beers, particularly when compared to the lower rung offerings. On the top shelf during my time there in 2006 were Little Creatures Pale Ale and James Squire Original Amber Ale. I thought at the time that Little Creatures Pale Ale could easily hold its own against US classics like Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and Deschutes Mirror Pond Pale Ale.
During a four-week tour around New Zealand, it rained and snowed three off those weeks – in December! While Kiwi weather might be some of the worst on the planet, their beers were certainly not. Speights Gold Medal Ale, Tui East India Pale Ale, and Steinlager were all decent beers – dare I put them on the same shelf as their neighbour’s VB and MB? Yes! One of the microbreweries I visited was near the town of Nelson on a snaking road in the hills. We spent a drizzly afternoon there playing board games and drinking their modest offerings. While I don’t remember the name of the place, it was at least locally famous for offering up a pint for every dead possum its patrons drug in – rough country for possums, even the hippies want them dead! Truthfully, none of the micro-brewed beers I had during my visit stood out. This would certainly not be the case if I were to visit today with the likes of Epic Brewing Company making waves in the craft beer ocean with its Epic Pale Ale and Armageddon IPA.
moving to south africa
My wife and I finally returned to South Africa in 2007 where we had deposited all of our belongings a year before prior to our globetrotting adventure. After living out of a backpack for the previous year, having a place to call home, let alone in Cape Town, was something special. We had just come from spending two months in India, where aside from imbibing two beers, I was off the wagon – American colloquialism for “not drinking” – and doing a lot of yoga and meditation. We kept that momentum going for at least another month or so after our return but with the lure of summer weather, "braaivleis", and a buzzing social scene eventually backslid down to the ol’ ox wagon and haven’t looked back since!
Once again, my palate quickly became saturated with “premium” pale lagers and I returned to filling that void with Cape wines. Some time later on a weekend climbing trip, I happened to come across a six pack of Jack Black in a bottle shop in Montagu of all places. I asked the shop owner where it was from and he said that it was being brewed by Birkenhead in Stanford at the time. I will never forget catching that first bit of aroma. Whoa! What is that? Hops! I relished that beer. That was the first sign of light for me that craft beer had a chance in SA.
I was fortunate enough to have taken a position with Franki Africa (now EsorFranki Geotechnical) as a geotechnical design engineer. Franki is the largest geotechnical contractor in southern Africa, and through that vehicle, I was able to work on very interesting and diverse projects around southern Africa with a lot of great people. While taking my professional geotechnical engineering career to new heights, my longtime dream of starting my own brewery began creeping into my conscience fueled by the void in the South African beer market and my longing for real craft beer.
My wife and I had off and on touched on the topic of children over the years, but we unknowingly took the first real step in that direction by getting, yes, dogs. Not one, not two, but three – two Rhodesian Ridgebacks and a Jack Russell to be exact. I should have known something was up with voluntarily making a decision to take on three dogs. After all, my wife and I had been free-spirited, adventure seeking “DINKs” for 15 years at that point. Four positive pregnancy quick tests in March of 2008 revealed there was something else afoot!
Though the timing wasn’t ideal, I became obsessed with trying to assemble a homebrewing system during my wife’s pregnancy. This proved to be far more challenging than dropping down to the local homebrew shop as I would have done back in the US. I met a few folks through a homebrew club in Cape Town called the “Southyeasters”. They were having meetings at Boston Breweries at the time. People in the club were kind enough to show me the ropes in how to assemble a homebrewing system in Cape Town. So after a few months of perusing the industrial areas of Paarden Eiland, Montagu Gardens, Killarny Gardens, Salt River, Phillipi, Stellenbosch, SAB, various bars, etc., I finally had a system on which I could brew. The self-sufficiency I learned during this exercise would prove to be indispensable three years later.
During my wife’s pregnancy, I also met two professional brewers who helped me take my brewing to a new level – one was a former brewer from Miller in the US and the other was a German brewmaster named Wolfgang Koedel. Both, as it turned out, had studied brewing science at the prestigious Weihenstephan Technical University in Germany. I have often thought about the oddity that my brewing was taken to a new level by two ex-pat professional brewers in a land essentially devoid of craft beer. Destiny?!
The Paulaner Brauhaus in the V&A Waterfront was one of my favorite places in Cape Town as it by far had the best beer in the country in my opinion. I met Wolfgang at Paulaner one beautiful spring afternoon in 2008. I was looking for a mill to crush some malt and instead came away with a brewery tour and a wealth of information on how to take brewing to the next level! Wolfgang is the ultimate host and brewing diplomat! Over the next two years, I brought my beers to Wolfgang for his honest critiquing and, through this, continued to improve as a brewer.
In January of 2009, my wife’s and my lives were blessed and forever changed with the birth of our daughter. Though the timing wasn’t ideal, I had a bit of a quasi-mid-life-crisis when my daughter was born. Her birth and presence in my life were profound. I had a realization that I had to be proactive with my dream of starting my own brewery. I became obsessed….
Once again, my palate quickly became saturated with “premium” pale lagers and I returned to filling that void with Cape wines. Some time later on a weekend climbing trip, I happened to come across a six pack of Jack Black in a bottle shop in Montagu of all places. I asked the shop owner where it was from and he said that it was being brewed by Birkenhead in Stanford at the time. I will never forget catching that first bit of aroma. Whoa! What is that? Hops! I relished that beer. That was the first sign of light for me that craft beer had a chance in SA.
I was fortunate enough to have taken a position with Franki Africa (now EsorFranki Geotechnical) as a geotechnical design engineer. Franki is the largest geotechnical contractor in southern Africa, and through that vehicle, I was able to work on very interesting and diverse projects around southern Africa with a lot of great people. While taking my professional geotechnical engineering career to new heights, my longtime dream of starting my own brewery began creeping into my conscience fueled by the void in the South African beer market and my longing for real craft beer.
My wife and I had off and on touched on the topic of children over the years, but we unknowingly took the first real step in that direction by getting, yes, dogs. Not one, not two, but three – two Rhodesian Ridgebacks and a Jack Russell to be exact. I should have known something was up with voluntarily making a decision to take on three dogs. After all, my wife and I had been free-spirited, adventure seeking “DINKs” for 15 years at that point. Four positive pregnancy quick tests in March of 2008 revealed there was something else afoot!
Though the timing wasn’t ideal, I became obsessed with trying to assemble a homebrewing system during my wife’s pregnancy. This proved to be far more challenging than dropping down to the local homebrew shop as I would have done back in the US. I met a few folks through a homebrew club in Cape Town called the “Southyeasters”. They were having meetings at Boston Breweries at the time. People in the club were kind enough to show me the ropes in how to assemble a homebrewing system in Cape Town. So after a few months of perusing the industrial areas of Paarden Eiland, Montagu Gardens, Killarny Gardens, Salt River, Phillipi, Stellenbosch, SAB, various bars, etc., I finally had a system on which I could brew. The self-sufficiency I learned during this exercise would prove to be indispensable three years later.
During my wife’s pregnancy, I also met two professional brewers who helped me take my brewing to a new level – one was a former brewer from Miller in the US and the other was a German brewmaster named Wolfgang Koedel. Both, as it turned out, had studied brewing science at the prestigious Weihenstephan Technical University in Germany. I have often thought about the oddity that my brewing was taken to a new level by two ex-pat professional brewers in a land essentially devoid of craft beer. Destiny?!
The Paulaner Brauhaus in the V&A Waterfront was one of my favorite places in Cape Town as it by far had the best beer in the country in my opinion. I met Wolfgang at Paulaner one beautiful spring afternoon in 2008. I was looking for a mill to crush some malt and instead came away with a brewery tour and a wealth of information on how to take brewing to the next level! Wolfgang is the ultimate host and brewing diplomat! Over the next two years, I brought my beers to Wolfgang for his honest critiquing and, through this, continued to improve as a brewer.
In January of 2009, my wife’s and my lives were blessed and forever changed with the birth of our daughter. Though the timing wasn’t ideal, I had a bit of a quasi-mid-life-crisis when my daughter was born. Her birth and presence in my life were profound. I had a realization that I had to be proactive with my dream of starting my own brewery. I became obsessed….
beer garagiste
My homebrew setup was constructed of three old 50L SAB kegs and was labour intensive aside from having the luxury of a couple pumps. The kettle was direct fired with a gas burner and the hot liquor tank was heated with a 3kW electric element that pushed the limits of my garage outlet. Following the continental European tradition, I use stepped mashing schedules for my beers. (Mashing is the process of converting the starches in malt/grains into sugars, which subsequently get consumed during yeast fermentation, by mixing the grain with water and taking the mixture through a series of specific temperature rests.) So for a good thirty minutes during any mash, I would stir the mash as fast as I could with a wooden paddle to keep the it from scorching; and with a hot gas burner firing away by my feet, meditation came in handy! As any brewer can tell you, brewing truly is a labour of love. I once heard a professional brewer state that a brewer is a “glorified janitor”. While that’s a little melodramatic, it highlights the industry's labour intensive nature.
For fermentation, I used two 50L food-grade HDPE drums each housed in their own temperature controlled refrigerator. Having two fermenters, I was able to brew 50L batches every two weeks and I pretty much did. The frequency of brewing and my obsessed preoccupation with it began taking a toll on my family life and ultimately caused me to miss out on precious time with my new family.
My wife and I used to spend most of our weekends rock climbing in the Cedarberg near Clanwilliam known by the climbing community as “Rocklands”. With all of the beer that I was brewing, I used to share quite a bit of it with fellow climbers and farm owners, and began having tastings to get real public feedback on my beers. I was asked by one of the farm owners in mid-2009 if I could brew beer for an annual climber party held on his farm called “Rockstock”. That invitation solidified our resolve to start a brewery.
My wife and I decided on the name of “Red Cliff Brewing Company” and frantically sought out branding for the Rockstock party. I brewed up a storm while the branding was being developed. We ended up serving a weissbier, a helles lager, and, I believe, the first legitimate US-style IPA in South Africa – packed with Centennial, Cascade, and Columbus hops – to a crowd of over 100 people from around the globe. To my complete surprise, the IPA sold out first, followed by the weissbier and finally the lager. That result and the amount of kind words people had to say about my beer, gave my wife and me the confidence boost we needed to finally go for it. I was officially a paid professional Beer Garagiste….
For fermentation, I used two 50L food-grade HDPE drums each housed in their own temperature controlled refrigerator. Having two fermenters, I was able to brew 50L batches every two weeks and I pretty much did. The frequency of brewing and my obsessed preoccupation with it began taking a toll on my family life and ultimately caused me to miss out on precious time with my new family.
My wife and I used to spend most of our weekends rock climbing in the Cedarberg near Clanwilliam known by the climbing community as “Rocklands”. With all of the beer that I was brewing, I used to share quite a bit of it with fellow climbers and farm owners, and began having tastings to get real public feedback on my beers. I was asked by one of the farm owners in mid-2009 if I could brew beer for an annual climber party held on his farm called “Rockstock”. That invitation solidified our resolve to start a brewery.
My wife and I decided on the name of “Red Cliff Brewing Company” and frantically sought out branding for the Rockstock party. I brewed up a storm while the branding was being developed. We ended up serving a weissbier, a helles lager, and, I believe, the first legitimate US-style IPA in South Africa – packed with Centennial, Cascade, and Columbus hops – to a crowd of over 100 people from around the globe. To my complete surprise, the IPA sold out first, followed by the weissbier and finally the lager. That result and the amount of kind words people had to say about my beer, gave my wife and me the confidence boost we needed to finally go for it. I was officially a paid professional Beer Garagiste….
devil's peak beers are born
Shortly after my success at Rockstock, I got an email from Wolfgang introducing me to three guys who had approached him to develop beer for their contract brewing project called Butcher, Baker, Beermaker – a play on the children’s nursery rhyme. One of those guys was Russell Boltman. Before we actually met, I was a bit skeptical as my wife and I were already working on our own project. But after meeting, we decided we had enough common ground to join forces.
We quickly decided on the name “Black Crow Brewing Company” and began having public tastings, including a memorable evening of deliciously paired dishes at Fork Restaurant in Cape Town -- the flourless chocolate cake and stout still stand out in my memory!
The project went through a few iterations of players as well. One of the former players was Danish brewer Christian Andersen, who has two very successful beer brands of his own – BeerHere and Bierwerk. We became good friends through the time that we worked together on the project and I was saddened when he pulled out and returned to Denmark. During the time with Christian, we changed the name to “Devil’s Peak Brewing Company” after a lot of consideration. This name gave the company a solid, Cape-Townian reference, with which we wanted to be identified.
Our first approach once Christian joined was to go “big” from the beginning with proper brewery plant and capacity, and skip a “nano-brewery” phase. But we soon lost another partner, and the steam driving the quest for a big startup was cooling off. Shortly thereafter, Christian decided to return to Denmark to pursue other brewing adventures.
At this point, Russell and I decided to go with the “nano-brewery” approach after all – full circle from where I was headed a year prior. Immediately after this decision, Dan Badenhorst, joined Russell and I. Once we figured out how much money we were willing to invest in the project, I began designing the brewery. After a few iterations, we ended up with an all-stainless steel brewery comprising two old 340L wine garagiste tanks for hot liquor tanks, two 550L mixing tanks converted into a lauter tun and a kettle, an old 700L milk tank converted into a “brite beer tank”, and two brand new, custom made 740L jacketed uni-tanks for fermenters. We learned a big lesson about refrigeration, though. To use someone else’s quote, “If you think you can’t afford new refrigeration equipment, you definitely cannot afford second hand.” How true, how true!
For our launch lineup, we decided on the King’s Blockhouse IPA, Woodhead Amber Ale, Silver Tree Saison, and an unbranded coffee-infused imperial stout. The hot-side of the brewery was not complete when I started brewing up the beers for the first annual Cape Town Festival of Beer, held in late November of 2011, so I brewed on my expanded 100L homebrew setup and utilized our new uni-tank fermenters. All of the beers in our original lineup were the result of nearly three years of fine tuning recipes.
Life was a bit hectic at that time. I would arrive at the brewery at 18h00 after leaving my day job at Franki, brew by myself for ten hours, drive home, sleep for two, then get up and repeat. But all of this hard work paid off with the incredibly positive response we got at the festival where I ended up winning “best ale” for my King’s Blockhouse IPA. Immediately after the successes achieved at the festival, the fourth and final member, Derek Szabo, joined Devil’s Peak.
After reassessing our lineup for our actual commercial launch, which was to be in February 2012, I decided we needed a beer that would hopefully appeal to the masses. First Light Golden Ale was the result. That beer is the result of exactly one test batch, and it worked so well at tastings that I didn’t change a thing. My rational for that beer was to answer South Africans’ thirst for lager with ale. I used the same malt base as for a lager, but used a slightly higher hopping rate with a very special, experimental hop from the SAB hop growers near Outeniqua Pass.
My wife and I made the painful decision in December 2011 to return to the US for her to pursue a great career opportunity. The timing of this decision at the time could not have been more awkward. But as time would come to show, everything happens for a reason.
So to prepare for my departure, we hired former Dornier wine maker, JC Steyn, to train as a brewer in January 2012. It was a great learning exercise for me to turn the brewing chaos in my head into detailed processes that would be easy enough to read like a step-by-step cookbook. Despite his brewing experience apparently being only a kit-and-kilo homebrew kit, JC came with the bonus of really understanding the mechanics of a production facility and a good scientific background. He knew how to work with pumps, clean tanks, how to transfer product from one tank to the next, how to troubleshoot refrigeration problems, and most importantly in my book, the fundamentals of yeast fermentation. He proved to be a quick learner, which helped reduce the stress level at the time with my concerns about the fate of my brewing dream.
I returned to the US with my family, which had expanded with the birth of my son in August 2010, in mid-April 2012 and continued my role as brewery process manager, recipe developer, and company co-owner. In the first couple months I developed the process for our first barreled beers – a batch of Silver Tree Saison I brewed dosed with two different strains for brettanomyces yeast in the barrels – developed a yet-to-be-branded stout, and began working on a new session beer that was going to utilize US Cascade hops. But alas, my beer dream with Devil’s Peak wasn’t meant to be. I guess after my partners reckoned they had acquired sufficient brewing knowledge, they decided to force me out of the company via a coup d’etat in October 2012 just as we were preparing for a sizable expansion and relocation to a facility in Salt River, Cape Town. After being threatened with legal action unless I accepted a buy-out, I decided it was time for new adventures. Live and Learn….
We quickly decided on the name “Black Crow Brewing Company” and began having public tastings, including a memorable evening of deliciously paired dishes at Fork Restaurant in Cape Town -- the flourless chocolate cake and stout still stand out in my memory!
The project went through a few iterations of players as well. One of the former players was Danish brewer Christian Andersen, who has two very successful beer brands of his own – BeerHere and Bierwerk. We became good friends through the time that we worked together on the project and I was saddened when he pulled out and returned to Denmark. During the time with Christian, we changed the name to “Devil’s Peak Brewing Company” after a lot of consideration. This name gave the company a solid, Cape-Townian reference, with which we wanted to be identified.
Our first approach once Christian joined was to go “big” from the beginning with proper brewery plant and capacity, and skip a “nano-brewery” phase. But we soon lost another partner, and the steam driving the quest for a big startup was cooling off. Shortly thereafter, Christian decided to return to Denmark to pursue other brewing adventures.
At this point, Russell and I decided to go with the “nano-brewery” approach after all – full circle from where I was headed a year prior. Immediately after this decision, Dan Badenhorst, joined Russell and I. Once we figured out how much money we were willing to invest in the project, I began designing the brewery. After a few iterations, we ended up with an all-stainless steel brewery comprising two old 340L wine garagiste tanks for hot liquor tanks, two 550L mixing tanks converted into a lauter tun and a kettle, an old 700L milk tank converted into a “brite beer tank”, and two brand new, custom made 740L jacketed uni-tanks for fermenters. We learned a big lesson about refrigeration, though. To use someone else’s quote, “If you think you can’t afford new refrigeration equipment, you definitely cannot afford second hand.” How true, how true!
For our launch lineup, we decided on the King’s Blockhouse IPA, Woodhead Amber Ale, Silver Tree Saison, and an unbranded coffee-infused imperial stout. The hot-side of the brewery was not complete when I started brewing up the beers for the first annual Cape Town Festival of Beer, held in late November of 2011, so I brewed on my expanded 100L homebrew setup and utilized our new uni-tank fermenters. All of the beers in our original lineup were the result of nearly three years of fine tuning recipes.
Life was a bit hectic at that time. I would arrive at the brewery at 18h00 after leaving my day job at Franki, brew by myself for ten hours, drive home, sleep for two, then get up and repeat. But all of this hard work paid off with the incredibly positive response we got at the festival where I ended up winning “best ale” for my King’s Blockhouse IPA. Immediately after the successes achieved at the festival, the fourth and final member, Derek Szabo, joined Devil’s Peak.
After reassessing our lineup for our actual commercial launch, which was to be in February 2012, I decided we needed a beer that would hopefully appeal to the masses. First Light Golden Ale was the result. That beer is the result of exactly one test batch, and it worked so well at tastings that I didn’t change a thing. My rational for that beer was to answer South Africans’ thirst for lager with ale. I used the same malt base as for a lager, but used a slightly higher hopping rate with a very special, experimental hop from the SAB hop growers near Outeniqua Pass.
My wife and I made the painful decision in December 2011 to return to the US for her to pursue a great career opportunity. The timing of this decision at the time could not have been more awkward. But as time would come to show, everything happens for a reason.
So to prepare for my departure, we hired former Dornier wine maker, JC Steyn, to train as a brewer in January 2012. It was a great learning exercise for me to turn the brewing chaos in my head into detailed processes that would be easy enough to read like a step-by-step cookbook. Despite his brewing experience apparently being only a kit-and-kilo homebrew kit, JC came with the bonus of really understanding the mechanics of a production facility and a good scientific background. He knew how to work with pumps, clean tanks, how to transfer product from one tank to the next, how to troubleshoot refrigeration problems, and most importantly in my book, the fundamentals of yeast fermentation. He proved to be a quick learner, which helped reduce the stress level at the time with my concerns about the fate of my brewing dream.
I returned to the US with my family, which had expanded with the birth of my son in August 2010, in mid-April 2012 and continued my role as brewery process manager, recipe developer, and company co-owner. In the first couple months I developed the process for our first barreled beers – a batch of Silver Tree Saison I brewed dosed with two different strains for brettanomyces yeast in the barrels – developed a yet-to-be-branded stout, and began working on a new session beer that was going to utilize US Cascade hops. But alas, my beer dream with Devil’s Peak wasn’t meant to be. I guess after my partners reckoned they had acquired sufficient brewing knowledge, they decided to force me out of the company via a coup d’etat in October 2012 just as we were preparing for a sizable expansion and relocation to a facility in Salt River, Cape Town. After being threatened with legal action unless I accepted a buy-out, I decided it was time for new adventures. Live and Learn….
furthUr (no, not further!)
“Furthur” was the name of the Merry Pranksters’ converted cosmic school bus that ventured around the US in the mid-1960s whose passengers included the likes of beat icon Neal Cassady, the psychedelic clown Wavy Gravy, the Grateful Dead, and author Ken Kesey amongst others. The name gave inspiration for the crew to keep going “furthur” when the bus or, perhaps, the passengers’ brains broke down. Now so too am I. Stay in touch and follow me on Twitter and Facebook to learn about my exciting new line of craft beers coming to South Africa soon!