Classic Beer Style Series #16 - Pale Ale (Second Edition) - History, Brewing, Techniques, Recipes - by Terry Foster (1999)
Classic Beer Style Series #16 - Pale Ale (Second Edition) - History, Brewing, Techniques, Recipes - by Terry Foster (1999)
ALE
The Classic Beer Style Series is devoted to offering in-depth information on
world-class styles by exploring their history, flavor profiles, brewing methods,
recipes, and ingredients.
Second Edition
Terry Foster
Classic Beer Style Series No. 16
Brewers Publications
A Division of the Brewers Association
Boulder, Colorado
Brewers Publications, Division of the Brewers Association
PO Box 1679, Boulder, CO 80306-1679
(303) 447-0816; Fax (303) 447-2825
BrewersAssociation.org
All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, no portion of this book may be reproduced in any form
without written permission of the publisher. Neither the author, editors, nor the publisher assumes any
responsibility for the use or misuse of information contained in this book.
ISBN-13: 0-937381-69-1
ISBN-10: 978-0-937381-69-4
EISBN: 978-1-938469-25-1
Introduction
Chapter Notes
Glossary
Index
However, unlike when I first came to America, we can now get good
American-brewed beer. We just cannot always get it when or where we want it.
The day when there is a “local” pub within walking distance of most drinkers is
still far ahead.
Top-fermented beers and ales are still the poor cousins of lager beers. Apart
from the German regional specialties of kölsch and altbier, these beers are only
brewed on any scale in Britain and America. And of course, pale ale and its
more popular derivative, bitter, are the main representatives of this class of beer.
In the United Kingdom, pale ale is under threat from brewers who have been
pushing the bland nitrogen-dispensed “smooth” ales, at the expense of the real
ale that is more variable but possesses more character. The same approach is
beginning to surface in America. However, American micros are generally to be
commended for their return to traditional values in pale ale brewing, particularly
regarding their approach to producing beers of high hop bitterness and character.
This book is an attempt to foster interest in one of the world’s great beer styles
and to encourage you to brew it and drink it. It is not simply a new edition of the
earlier Pale Ale. I was pleased and honored to be asked to do that first book in
the Classic Beer Style Series and even more pleased to see the way that other
authors built on my humble start. After writing that book, I continued to collect
historical and modern materials on pale ales, as well as other beers, and was
preparing to write a book based on those materials. I was not quite sure how I
was going to approach this. Toni Knapp of Brewers Publications solved the
problem by approaching me and asking me to redo Pale Ale.
I determined that I would not simply revise the earlier book but would write a
new book from the ground up. Of course, some of the material in the first book
is included, but in a much-expanded form. This time, I have included a host of
references for those of you who want to know more about this style of beer.
Much more discussion of bitter ales has been added, since these form the largest
class of pale ale derivatives in England. The chapter on dispense and real ale is
considerably more comprehensive and not just limited to the narrow scope of
“beer from the wood,” although that is not ignored. I also include a range of new
recipes. I have placed more emphasis on extract recipes, since I feel I down-
played that important aspect of homebrewing in the first edition. Perhaps the
biggest change is the emphasis on beers of this style that are now widely
available in America.
The historical section, too, has been much expanded. Ironically, it was written
in Australia, which is one of the younger countries of the world in terms of when
it was settled by Europeans. Other parts were written in such places as Ukraine
and Romania, areas that were settled in Roman times. I am not quite sure what
that indicates about a beer style that is clearly English in origin. I suppose where
it was written does not really matter, as long as you enjoy the book and find it
informative. This has been a much more ambitious project than the original, and
I hope I have not fallen too far short of achieving that ambition.
CHAPTER 1
The Evolution of Pale Ale
The English writer L. P. Hartley opened his novel The Go-between by saying,
“The past is a foreign country. They do things differently there.” We all too often
misunderstand history by imposing today’s standards and values on the past,
reading modern motives and meanings into scraps of historical information. So
defining a beer style on the basis of its history is an invitation to error.
Yet to ignore the history of one of the world’s major classes of beer, in this
case pale ale, is a fundamental mistake, if you really care about beer. This is why
so many of today’s factory beers are dull and tasteless, even though the brewers
might still pay lip service to the style. We often also forget that history is not just
about dead things and people; it still lives, and today will be history tomorrow.
This is especially true regarding India pale ale (IPA), the original English pale
ale style. Over the last 200 years, English IPAs (or at least those beers designated
as such by their brewers) have become watered-down travesties of their
nineteenth-century forebears. In contrast, modern American microbrewers and
pub brewers have, in their new IPAs, returned to the style’s roots, restoring it to
something close to its former glories. However, relatively little recipe data is
available for re-creating any beer of earlier centuries. A 1990 survey by
England’s Manchester University showed that of 620 English breweries, only 70
had pre-1914 brew house data. There are published recipes from the eighteenth
and nineteenth centuries. However, the limited access to actual brewing books
means these recipes might not be representative of common practice.1
But I am getting ahead of myself. The origins of pale ale are quite murky (as
probably were the early versions of the ale itself!). Ale in its original sense was
beer before the arrival of hops, an event that occurred perhaps as early as the
eighth century in Europe, but not until the fifteenth century in England. Hops
were introduced to England by Dutch and Flemish immigrants who settled in
London on the South Bank of the Thames. Southwark (the area just below
London Bridge) became the trading area for hops. Many merchants set up there,
handling the hops that initially were grown in Kent and other areas of the South.
Ultimately, a building dedicated to this market was erected. Called, not
surprisingly, the Hop Exchange, it still exists just a few hundred yards from
London Bridge, behind the Borough Market, although it no longer handles the
produce for which it is named. Its interior is very attractive, with galleries
encircling an atrium, each faced in wrought iron in which the twin motifs of hop
flowers and the Kentish County white horse symbol embrace. Appropriately, just
around the corner from the Hop Exchange is a microbrewery, Bishops, whose
beers are some of the hoppiest and bitterest you can hope to find.
The main entrance to the Hop Exchange in Southwark. Located close to the London Bridge, the Hop
Exchange was in operation for less than two years.
Ale was not hopped, although many other herbs were often used to flavor it.
Beer, on the other hand, was hopped ale, and it was not at first readily accepted
by the English drinker, being regarded by many as a curious import. Many
stories exist about this antipathy to hops, including that of Henry VIII’s banning
his own brewer from using them.2 But hops had a great advantage over other
flavorings in that their bitterness was the perfect balance for the cloying
sweetness of the strong ales of the time, so much so that eventually they became
the dominant flavor additive. Hops also had a preservative effect by limiting
spoilage by bacteria. This not only made the beer more stable and attractive to
the drinker, but also allowed the brewer to make a brew that was weaker than
competing ales. Since prices were very rigidly controlled, this made beer more
profitable than ale in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
Other herb and spice flavorings largely disappeared in England through the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and thereafter they were used mainly only
in certain beers in Belgium, such as the famous wits. However, in England one
beer, Devon White, was flavored with gruit (as mixtures of herb flavorings were
called) and did survive into the nineteenth century.3 The use of various herb and
spice flavorings has enjoyed a small revival in some of the specialty beers,
particularly Christmas ales, produced by American microbreweries.
Despite the advent of hops, ale lived on for many centuries, most notably in
country house breweries, virtually all of which maintained a brew house to cater
to both the owners and the staff. At some stage, as the commercial or common
brewers produced only beer, country house ale became a hopped brew, but it still
kept the original name.
Eventually, the term ale came back into general fashion to refer to strong
beers. By the eighteenth century, the ale brewed in private houses often came
from the first runnings of the wort from a mash, meaning that it was the
strongest brew.4 Second runnings would yield beer, a weaker beverage, and
subsequent runnings would yield the much weaker small beer, suitable for the
lowest servants to drink. Note that at that time, the hydrometer had not been
invented, so no method existed for measuring the strength of wort or beer. (The
hydrometer had been suggested for this purpose in 1760 and was used by James
Baverstock, a professional brewer, in 1769. Use of this instrument was put on a
firm technological basis as a brewer’s tool by John Richardson, a brewing
author, in his 1786 Statical Estimates.5)
Thus the terms strong and weak were purely relative. Extant recipes from the
early nineteenth century suggest that ale first runnings were at around an original
gravity of 1.111 (27.1 °P), second at about 1.075 (18.2 °P), and third at 1.040
(10.0 °P).6 Few modern beers would match the gravities of these first two, while
the third is pretty close to the average for all English beers today!
In the eighteenth century, ales, as very strong brews, were frequently drunk
from small, liqueur-sized glasses, often of very fancy style and sometimes etched
with barley and hop motifs. They were treated with the same care as imported
wines and served only from fine glass decanters (if only some of today’s wine
snobs could be made to realize this!). The Bass Museum in Burton-upon-Trent
displays a pair of glass decanters from the 1760s, one engraved “ALE” and the
other “BEER.”
But I still haven’t addressed the origin of pale ale. As many writers have
pointed out, pale merely meant that it was less dark than other beers. Prior to the
eighteenth century, most of these “pale” ales would have been what today is
called brown ale. One reason for this is that malting techniques made it difficult
to avoid some roasting, or even scorching, of the malt, thereby making it quite
dark. Pale malt could be made with coke as fuel, since a coke fire was easier to
control than those made from the more commonly used wood or straw. However,
coke was not readily available until the early eighteenth century. (It was used a
little in the early seventeenth century but did not apparently find great favor.7)
The first commercially successful coking facility was started in 1709 and by
1713, coke was being used in iron smelting.8
Coke-drying of malt seems to have been used more in the North and Midlands
of England, rather than in the Southeast, where large-scale commercial brewing
was taking place. Private house brewers apparently preferred coke-dried malt,
and they might have been the major producers of pale ale in the late sixteenth
and early seventeenth centuries.9 Since these would have been wealthy people,
this accords with the idea that pale ale was a drink for the rich, rather than for the
poor. As is shown later in this chapter, this might have played a big part in the
development of the style in the nineteenth century.
Pale ale reportedly was sold in London as early as 1623, at the Peacock Inn,
Gray’s Inn Lane. The record simply said “Burton Ale,” which later evidence
suggests was more likely a dark brown beer.10 Pale ale brewers prospered in
London around the end of the seventeenth century, with some of this coming
from Nottingham and Burton.11 However, it seems likely that the Burton brewers
continued to brew mainly dark beers until the early nineteenth century; the Bass
brewery, for example, produced its first pale ale in 1823.12 However, Derbyshire
brewers were coke-drying malt.13 This meant that their beer could well have
been pale in color. Probably the same applied to Nottingham beer, since this city
sat in the middle of a coal-mining area.
Most London brewers produced brown beers. Around 1700, these beers
encountered intense competition from pale ales, despite the fact that pale ales
were more expensive to produce. Adding to the high price of pale ales were
transportation costs if a pale ale was imported from outside the city, and
especially if it came from the North. Yet, pale ale seems to have increased in
popularity from 1710 to 1720 in the Capital.14 As evidence of this, when Eliot’s
Stag Brewery in Pimlico was rebuilt in 1715, it had two brew houses, including
one called the Pale Brewhouse.15 (Stag, much later, became Watney’s, which
until recently was one of England’s biggest brewers. In the 1990s, it gave up
brewing for pub owning.)
It might have been this pressure from pale ale brewers that led to the
development of porter as a way for brown beer producers to counteract what
could have been a major threat to their business. However, that is another story.
It is certainly true that after about 1720, porter became the most popular beer in
London and later in the rest of the country. Later in the century, porter brewers
such as Whitbread, Thrale, and Meux became the first really large-scale brewing
companies, turning out hundreds of thousands of barrels annually. There were
ale brewers other than Eliot in London, but in general their outputs were much
smaller than those of the great porter brewers, none of them having reached even
30,000 barrels of output by 1800.16 Note, too, that although brewing in Burton
probably goes back to the eleventh century, when an abbey was founded there,
by the eighteenth century Burton brewers were producing on a much smaller
scale than the London porter brewers. For example, in 1786 Bass had total sales
of fewer than 500 barrels, about what a reasonably sized modern American
brewpub might turn out! At that stage, Bass was one of the smaller Burton
brewers, but even the larger ones, such as Benjamin Wilson, were producing
only around 2,000 barrels in 1790.17
The Arrival of India Pale Ale
In 1752, George Hodgson opened an ale brewery in Bow, in the East End of
London. Then, in 1790, in what was a major event in the evolution of pale ale,
he began shipping pale ale to India. Author Charles Stuart Calverley
immortalized this innovation in blank verse:
Dr. John Harrison is perhaps the foremost expert on reviving old English beers
by deciphering brewers’ books. I recommend you read his article on this topic
in the Brewer’s Guardian.22 There, he explains just how difficult this is, even
when you have your hands on an eighteenth-century brewer’s recipe! He and a
group of English brewers have done a lot of very good work, not only in
researching old recipes, but also in translating them into recipes suitable for
homebrewing using modern ingredients. They have published a recipe for this
beer in their book Old British Beers and How to Make Them.23
This recipe cites an original gravity of 1.070 (17.5 °P) and a hop rate of 2.5
ounces of Kent Goldings per gallon. At 5% alpha acid, a fairly common level
for Goldings, this represents 62.5 hop bitterness units (HBU) per 5 gallons
(converting to U.S. gallons). Even allowing for relatively poor utilization at
such high hop rates, these values calculate to an improbable 200 international
bitterness units (IBU) for this beer—by any standards, even 50 IBU would make
a very bitter beer. So this beer should be undrinkable according to modern
palates. However, I made a full-mash version of this beer, adjusting malt levels
to correspond to the extraction rate I get and hop rates to give around 200 IBU
(calculated) at a 20% utilization rate, rather than those indicated by Harrison,
so as to achieve an original gravity of 1.070 (17.5 °P). Here’s my version of the
recipe for 5 U.S. gallons.
Original IPA
Two-row English pale
malt (2.5 °SRM) 10.2 lb. (4.6 kg)
This is indeed a bitter beer. But there is a good deal of malt body to balance
the bitterness. And, in the true spirit of an IPA, it should be well matured—at
least six months; the keeping tends to modify the bitterness. The end product is
a beer that takes a little getting used to but that is rewarding in its complexity.
Sipped slowly in company with a good strong cheese like a really sharp
Vermont Cheddar, or better still an English Stilton, it provides a very rewarding
experience.
In May 1994, the British Guild of Beer Writers staged a conference on IPA, at
which Dr. Harrison provided samples of his re-creation of Hodgson’s IPA. It
was apparently six weeks old when presented. Reporters on the conference
variously characterized the dry-hopped beer as having a powerful Goldings hop
aroma and an intense bitterness!24 This might seem a short time for the
maturation of a strong beer like this, but Harrison pointed out that the average
time for the journey from India to England was 36 days. It could therefore have
been on sale in India approximately six weeks after brewing. Another presenter
at the conference, Richard Wilson, put a different view on this. He reportedly
stated that true IPAs were “keeping” or “vatted” beers. In other words, they
were matured for long periods before shipping.
I do not now whether Hodgson matured his beers at the brewery. He was a
smart enough businessman to realize that he would make money more quickly
if he shipped the beer as soon as it was brewed. He might have felt that the
turbulence and temperature changes involved in a five- to six-week journey to
India on a sailing ship was more than enough maturation period for his beer!
We can only guess at what hop varieties Hodgson would have used. Goldings,
which was probably grown only in Kent, was introduced in the 1780s and
subsequently became the prime pale ale hop. However, the ale brewers of
London and the surrounding area used only hops from Farnham in Surrey, while
Kentish hops were largely used by the porter brewers.25 Whatever hop varieties
were used, we do not know what their alpha acid levels were. Nor do we know
whether they were used fresh and, if not, just how they were stored. Since there
was no such thing as refrigeration at the time, stored hops would likely have
been very low in alpha acid. Harrison indicates that Hodgson used new season
hops for pale ales and old hops for porter brewing.26 He also quotes Hodgson as
using a hopping rate of 22 pounds per quarter (330 pounds) of malt. This equals
approximately 10.5 ounces per 5 U.S. gallons, or close to 70 ounces per U.S.
barrel, at a starting gravity of 1.070 (17.5 °P).
Burton Brewers and the Rise of Pale Ale
As indicated earlier in this chapter, at the end of the eighteenth century
brewing in Burton was small-scale stuff compared to that of the great London
porter brewers. At that time, the eight Burton breweries combined managed to
produce only about 20,000 barrels a year. Meanwhile, the porter brewers were
pushing into the frontiers of brewing technology, introducing the use of scientific
instruments such as the thermometer and the hydrometer and adopting
mechanical advances such as the steam engine, first installed by a London
brewer in 1784. Porter was the dominant beer, popular everywhere in the
country, as well as in London; it was even being brewed in Ireland. The
population of London had grown rapidly in the eighteenth century, as the
Industrial Revolution got under way, and many people left the land to work in
the factories of the bigger cities. That meant the London brewers had a huge
market literally on their doorstep. This was a great advantage in a time when
transporting a high-volume product was difficult, slow, and expensive.
Although Burton brewers exported to London, the trade was small. By the
time the product reached the city, it cost too much for it to be sold in quantity.
For most of the second half of the eighteenth century, pressures on costs had
been small, and the price of porter had remained remarkably stable. So the
Burton brewers looked in a different direction. They could transport their beer
cheaply by water, thanks to the introduction of the River Trent navigation
system. This system linked them directly to the east coast port of Hull, through a
canal/river route. This enabled them to build a trade with countries around the
Baltic Sea, especially Russia.
As already discussed, this Russian trade was with a strong brown beer,
perhaps sweeter than porter. It is unclear what brown really meant then, and in
fact the term nut brown is used quite often in the literature. That suggests to me
it was fairly light brown, rather than dark like a porter. Benjamin Wilson
received complaints from Baltic merchants in 1793 that his ale was dark
compared to that of his competitors.27 So the standard color was probably at least
a moderate brown, rather than dark brown or black. In my youth, I remember Ind
Coope, Allsopp’s offering “Burton” as a special winter ale. I do not remember
much else about it, except that it was definitely a dark ale. In 1948, brown ale in
England was defined as a filtered, carbonated, and bottled mild ale, “but it may
also be a beer of the Burton type.”28 The same writer says that “Burton is a
strong ale of pale ale type, but made with a proportion of highly dried or slightly
roasted malts; it is consistently darker in colour and with a fuller flavour than the
pale ales.” The one remaining modern English beer from this Russian export
trade is the seldom brewed Courage Russian Imperial Stout, a very dark beer that
was brewed in London until recently, when its production was moved to
Yorkshire.
Although Burton’s trade with the Baltic countries and Russia was steady, it did
not represent huge quantities of beer. Benjamin Wilson’s brewery had the largest
share, exporting around 2,000 barrels to the Baltic in 1790. Bass, later the
world’s largest brewer for a time, shipped only 211 barrels in the same year. One
advantage to the Burton brewers of this trade was that they were able to bring
back German, Russian, and Polish oak suitable for making beer casks. These
types of oak are very dense, and when the casks were properly coopered, they
would not have permitted significant leaching of tannins from the wood.
Around the turn of the eighteenth century, things began to change. Although
not obvious at the time, porter had just about reached its peak in terms of
popularity, for several reasons. Perhaps the main one was cost. The Napoleonic
Wars caused a number of economic problems in England, one consequence of
which was sky-rocketing barley and malt prices. Another reason was that as
porter brewers became more technologically sophisticated, they realized that
brown malt gave lower extract yields than did pale malt. Since brown malt was
also sold in smaller unit quantities, it was more expensive in terms of cost of
extract. The brewers sought less costly ways to create the typical flavor of porter.
However, they were not really successful until malt-roasting techniques were
developed around 1820. Meanwhile, many unscrupulous publicans and some
brewers saved money by adulterating their porter with all sorts of nasty
chemicals, drugs, and herbal extracts. As a result, porter started to develop a bad
name among drinkers and to decline in popularity, thus opening the door to ale
brewers.
Because of the Napoleonic Wars, the Baltic Sea was blockaded to English
ships in 1806. Even when this blockade was lifted, various decrees by the
European nations in 1807 severely curtailed English trade into the Baltic,
including the trade of the Burton brewers with Russia. Further competition to the
Burton brewers came from the establishment of a porter brewery in Russia. A
Mr. Stein in St. Petersburg built this in the period 1810–1820.29 The loss of the
Baltic trade did not hit all Burton brewers badly. Benjamin Wilson, who had the
greatest share of trade with Russia, was the brewer who suffered the most.
Michael Bass, in contrast, suffered less. He had tried to compete with Wilson in
the Baltic, but failing that, had concentrated on the English markets.30 Bass’s
failure to obtain a share of the Baltic market was a blessing in disguise; when IPA
began to be produced in Burton, Bass had a sound base from which to expand.
On the other hand, Benjamin Wilson was so discouraged by the difficulties of
trading caused by the Napoleonic blockade, that in 1806 he passed the brewery
on to his nephew, Samuel Allsopp.
After the Napoleonic Wars ended in 1815, high tariffs imposed by the Baltic
countries prevented any great resumption of the ale trade. Also important at this
time was that in 1813, the East India Company, which handled all shipping to
India, lost its monopoly on the Indian trade.31 This was significant because it was
the East India Company that apparently persuaded the Burton brewers to
produce India ale in the first place. Its lost monopoly was perhaps the first step
in the loosening of George Hodgson’s firm grip on the export trade to India. In
1821, a director of the East India Company, Mr. Marjoribanks (pronounced
Marchbanks), complained to Samuel Allsopp about his dissatisfaction with
Hodgson: “. . . [he] has given offense to most of the merchants of India.”32 But
Marjoribanks pointed out that beer in the standard dark, sweet Burton style was
not an acceptable substitute for Hodgson’s India Ale. He later sent Allsopp a
dozen bottles of Hodgson’s ale to show him what he was looking for.33
It is not apparent whether Marjoribanks had any personal ax to grind in this
affair. Had he argued with Hodgson? Did he have any relationship with Allsopp?
Was he looking for some kind of political edge within the company? Or had
Hodgson simply exceeded his position and tried to go around the East India
Company? Or did Marjoribanks just see this as a way of reviving the ailing
fortunes of the company, now that it had lost its monopoly position? George’s
Porter Brewery of Bristol attempted to make India ale in 1828, and a senior
partner in the brewery commented about Hodgson’s version: “We neither like its
thick and muddy appearance or rank bitter flavour.”34 So perhaps Marjoribanks
was simply dissatisfied with the quality of the beer Hodgson was shipping to
India.
Allsopp supposedly took the samples of India ale to his brewer Job Goodhead
and asked him if he could produce a malt that would yield a similar pale beer.
Goodhead said he could and is supposed to have made a trial small-scale brew
using a teapot. This story might be apocryphal, or at least slightly embellished,
since it did not emerge until recounted to a historian some 30 years later.
Nevertheless, the first full-scale brew was made in 1822, and the first shipment
to India of Allsopp’s India pale ale was in 1823.35
Allsopp was not the only brewer trying to get in on Hodgson’s act. Charles
McMaster reported that the first IPA brewed in Edinburgh, Scotland, was made
by the Edinburgh-Leith Brewery in 1820. It used much lower hopping rates than
Hodgson did: 8 pounds per quarter of malt, compared to Hodgson’s 22 pounds
per quarter!36 Bass is also reported to have commenced brewing IPA in 1823.37 In
1827, a cargo of its IPA destined for India was shipwrecked, salvaged, and
auctioned off in Liverpool. Local drinkers reportedly were so delighted with the
beer that they demanded it should become readily available on the home market.
The drive towards Burton production of pale ales might have come much
earlier. In 1793, Wilson (whom Allsopp succeeded) received complaints from his
Baltic customers that his ale was much darker than that of his rivals. In order to
sell in England, it needed to be paler to compete with the increasingly popular
ales of London and the South-Eastern counties. As a result, Allsopp wrote to his
various English customers in 1808, asking “whether pale ale or that of a darker
colour is most liked with you.” Further, the Liverpool market required a more
bitter beer than was the case with Burton ales at this stage. London was also
requiring more bitter beers from Burton.38
But Michael Bass was in an expansion mode also, establishing export
beachheads in parts of the world not yet reached by other English brewers. For
example, in 1806 his brewery exported about 8% of its output to London. By
1820, this figure had risen to 20%. However, trade with Liverpool was almost as
important. Much of what was sent there was then exported to America (the first
shipment of five casks went to America in 1795), the West Indies, and
Australia.39 Unlike his father, who founded the brewery and also ran a carrier
business, Michael Bass was an ambitious man who had only the brewery to
support his aspirations. He very soon became the major exporter of East India
pale ale, as it was called for a time.
From 1832 to 1833, approximately 12,000 barrels of English beer were
exported to India. Of that total, Bass shipped 5,200 barrels and Allsopp 1,400,
while Hodgson managed a still very respectable 3,600.40 According to an exhibit
in the Bass Museum, by 1842 Hodgson was no longer exporting to India, having
been pushed out of the market by the superior ales of Burton brewers.
But the India business was still a relatively small amount of Bass’s total trade.
By 1839, Bass’s annual output was almost 31,000 barrels, about 17,000 of which
was pale ale, with the rest being porter and Burton strong ale.43 Clearly, Bass was
selling the major part of his output in England. He was not unusual among
English brewers, for even at the peak of the export trade in 1859, only about 2%
of the total volume of beer brewed in England was exported.44
A Direct Link to the Past
Worthington White Shield was brewed continuously since probably the 1820s
and survived Worthington’s merger with Bass in the early twentieth century. It
was fermented in Burton Unions, but more important, it was a bottle-
conditioned beer. Bottle-conditioned beers were very unusual, so much so that
in the 1930s Bass actually issued written instructions for pouring White Shield.
Bass further designed a special glass that held exactly one bottleful—it was
called, not surprisingly, the Worthington. By the 1970s, bottle-conditioned beer
was very rare in England, although it has enjoyed something of a revival in the
1990s.
When shipped to bottlers, the beer included detailed instructions calling for
the casks to sit for 7 to 14 days, depending on the season, before bottling. This
waiting period was to be followed by 4 to 5 weeks in the bottle before sale.41
Because the journey to India took 5 to 6 weeks, the beer would be drunk at
least 10 weeks after leaving England. Thus, it was fairly well-matured even if it
was not kept at the brewery for any length of time (which it probably was
anyway).
Other Burton brewers were turning out pale ales, most notably Salt and
William Worthington, but their share of the East India market seems to have
been small. Nevertheless, Worthington’s IPA, called Worthington White Shield,
captured a special niche in British brewing history.
Why Pale Ale Was a Success
There were many more factors that contributed to the success of pale ale than
simply the brewers’ recognition of the East India market as a substitute for their
lost Baltic trade. These included the following:
• the quality of Burton water
• advances in brewing technology
• social changes in England
• critical mass of Burton brewers, poised for expansion
• expansion in total beer consumption
• demise of both private and publican brewers
• establishment of railways
• the move to the widespread use of glass in the construction of drinking
vessels
• changes in taste that favored pale beers
The high sulfate/carbonate well water of Burton was ideal for the production
of highly hopped pale beers with a clean, sharp bitterness. But this might have
been less important than the fact that in the early nineteenth century, the Burton
brewers were ready to expand. They had absorbed the lessons of a more
scientific approach to brewing pioneered by the porter manufacturers. They
developed their technology to a point where they could make a complete change
from their standard product and take the next step up to becoming major players
in the brewing game. In short, they were at the point of explosion, just as the
porter brewers had been almost exactly a century earlier.
As the Industrial Revolution accelerated in the late eighteenth century, a new
social phenomenon emerged—people with what we now call disposable income.
While this was true for the working classes to a certain extent (especially after
1850), it was even more so for the rapidly
growing middle class, which was becoming well-off enough to be choosy
about what they drank, almost without regard for price. A result of this was an
increase in beer consumption from the 1830s to the 1870s.45 From 1810 to 1830
consumption was in the range of 34 to 36 U.S. gallons per capita and reached a
peak of almost 49 U.S. gallons per capita by 1879.46
The English drinker was looking to buy his beer from a commercial brewer,
and many more of them were living in cities than had previously been the case.
They were moving away from the idea of brewing their own beer, just as
publicans were realizing it was easier to sell other people’s beer, rather than to
brew their own. For example, around 1830 private brewing accounted for over
20% of beer produced in England, while publican brewers (or brewpubs in
modern terminology) produced around 45% of the total beer sold in England.47
This means that commercial, or common, brewers had only about one-third of
the market. (However, this would not have been the case in London, where the
great porter brewers had long dominated the market.)
By the 1860s, private brewing had declined steeply to less than 3% of the
country’s total beer output. This was because the owners of the great country
houses no longer brewed as much beer as they turned to imported wines and as
tea-drinking became fashionable. In addition, their social habits changed—they
spent a good part of their time in their London houses, which did not have
brewing facilities. Even the poorer classes were no longer brewing as much of
their own beer. As they moved into the industrial areas, they no longer had
access to the space and ingredients to brew their own. In addition, they were
probably working such long hours that they needed to rely on commercial
brewers for their beer needs.
Similarly, during the same time period publican brewers virtually disappeared
from the scene. Their share of total beer output declined from 45% in 1830 to
about 15% by 1880 and only around 5% by 1900.48 The steepest drop-off
occurred during the 1870s and 1880s, as the commercial brewers went on a
buying spree for pubs. Not only did the commercial brewers take over the
market, they also increased in both numbers and in rates of production.49 This
reflected a significant change in society, one that still continues as we rely on
large companies for our supplies of everything from food to consumer goods,
rather than producing them ourselves. The growth of modern microbreweries
reflects a reaction to this trend, that of our acceptance of industrial rather than
craft products.
Also significant to the success of pale ale was the arrival of the railroad in
England. It changed the face of transportation, particularly where bulky goods
like beer were concerned. The main change for Burton brewers came in 1839,
when the Derby to Birmingham line was opened. This line passed through
Burton, giving the city a direct rail link to London and other cities, thereby
allowing its beers, and those of Bass in particular, to establish a national
reputation.50 It was only a small step from there to the modern concept of a
nationally recognized brand.
The next element of the equation was the increase in the availability and use
of glass for drinking vessels. Prior to 1840, glass vessels were heavily taxed and
so were not in common use. Pewter and earthenware vessels were used in most
pubs, and some publicans even used stone vessels marked with their names.51
Once this tax was removed, glass vessels rapidly became popular. This quickly
led to a greater appreciation of the clear, sparkling character of pale ales,
especially of those from Burton.
In addition, for reasons that are not clear, public taste had changed, and pale
beers became more popular, as opposed to the darker porters and stouts. As
stated previously, some of this was a social change. However, there was also a
world move to pale beers, as exemplified by the emergence of pale lager in
Pilsen, Czech Republic. Pale lagers rapidly pushed out brown beers in Europe,
and not very much later became popular in America.
What’s in a Barrel?
The capacity of a barrel has varied over the centuries. In the seventeenth
century, a standard ale barrel held 32 gallons, while the beer barrel held 36
gallons. In 1688, both were changed to hold 34 gallons. In 1803, the capacities
for both were increased to 36 gallons. Finally, in 1824 the barrel was set at the
capacity that it still holds today: 36 imperial gallons. However, the barrel based
on the imperial gallon was actually 16% less in volume than the 36-gallon
barrel previously used.52 Clearly, this variability complicates the deciphering of
old recipes!
Whatever the reasons, Burton brewers prospered in the latter part of the
nineteenth century. They moved away from the production of brown beers; by
1845, for example, pale ale at Bass accounted for about 73% of total
production.53 In 1853, Bass built a second brewery, and yet another in 1863. By
1876, it had become the world’s largest brewer, quoted by one source as brewing
about a million barrels annually (with Allsopp’s a good second in the race, at
900,000 barrels).54 Another source, however, cites just fewer than 900,000
barrels for Bass in 1876, with the one-million–barrel mark reached in 1890.55
The Wadworth Brewery in Devizes, Wiltshire, has one of the most attractive brewery exteriors you will ever
see.
A significant development in the pale ale story was that brewers in the rest of
the country soon jumped on the bandwagon. They began brewing their own
versions of the style, turning out pale beers of a more wide-ranging character,
some perhaps more or less hoppy, others perhaps darker than the Burton classic.
The importance of this was that it meant that as the broader pale ale category
emerged, IPA, as such, was no longer the dominant style. It became a substyle
rather than the model. East India exports became a lesser part of the Burton
brewers’ total exports. By 1844, Bass shipments to Australia were almost at the
same level as those to East India. (But perhaps this is not so surprising, since
Bass began shipping to New South Wales in 1798.)56 Foster’s of Australia
produced an IPA in the 1890s, emphasizing the establishment of the style in that
country.57 In the Fremantle History Museum in Western Australia, I also came
across a 1903 photograph showing a Fremantle pub with an advertisement for
Port Brewery Pale Ale.
What were the great porter brewers doing in the face of this stiff competition
from Burton? Quite simply, they had to change in order to survive. Although still
producing porter in quantity, many moved into ale brewing, at first brewing
mainly a dark mild ale (probably a lighter-hopped, less-matured version of porter
at this stage). But soon they were making pale ales also; Whitbread, for example,
was brewing pale ale in the 1860s. Interestingly, they treated their brewing
“liquor” by adding gypsum, an indication of how far technical knowledge of the
brewing process had progressed by this stage.58
Other porter brewers reacted somewhat differently. They opened their own
breweries in Burton, thereby taking advantage both of Burton’s water quality and
its well-established reputation for high-quality beer. These included Ind Coope
in 1856 (which later merged with Allsopp in 1934); Mann, Crossman, and Paulin
in 1872 and Truman in 1873 (both were later swallowed up by Watney’s); and
Charrington in 1872. Even Boddington’s from Manchester got into the act,
opening its Burton brewery in 1875. (This company still exists but only as a pub
owner. Whitbread now operates Boddington’s Manchester brewery and supplies
it with beer!)
I have already pointed out that the Edinburgh brewers joined the trend much
earlier with their own versions of IPA. Indeed, the Scottish brewers were
technologically well advanced. They were the first to adopt several new
techniques such as sparging and bottling on a fairly large scale in the 1860s—
thirty years before it became common practice in England.59 But IPA was also
brewed in the Yorkshire city of Bradford. And after 1875, Newcastle brewers
were also turning out their own versions of East India pale ale. This beer
corresponded to the Edinburgh versions rather than to those of Burton. However,
a bottler in the city offered not only “Pale India Ale,” but also a “High-hopped
India Pale Ale,” although it is not clear whether the latter was actually brewed in
Newcastle.60 Other cities noted for pale ale brewing were Tadcaster in Yorkshire
and Alton in Hampshire.
Burton remained a major brewing center and continued to improve its brewing
technology by embracing the burgeoning science of chemistry and employing
some of the best brewing scientists of the time—notably Horace Brown at
Worthington. Bass still exported significant quantities of beer, especially to
America and Canada. It had agents and bottlers in New York, Boston, and
Newark, as well as Winnipeg and Edmonton in Canada, and dealt with a bottler
in Denver. In 1890, Bass registered the first three trademarks ever issued, the
first for its pale ale and the next two for Burton Ale. The company went to great
lengths to protect its labels. For example, in 1895 it sued the Avon Company of
Baltimore for forging the famous Bass Red Triangle label. For similar forgery
offenses, it acted against John H. Sutcliff of Albany, New York, and against
Abraham Q. Wendell of Boston, who actually got five months hard labor for the
crime!61
But by the 1880s–1890s, Burton had lost its supremacy in the pale ale
industry. Its brewers were clearly feeling the pinch of intense competition, both
at home and abroad. In 1886, Bass and Allsopp had agreed to fix their prices on
pale ales and further agreed that they would not try to undercut price by offering
pale ales having a starting gravity below 1.050 (12.5 °P).62 Taxation also became
a factor in Burton’s decline as countries adopted tariffs to protect their own
breweries. From July 1899 to July 1900, Bass exported 100,000 gallons to India,
while Younger’s of Alloa in Scotland exported 260,000 gallons and the Kaiser
Brewery of Pilsen 205,000 gallons.63
The Kaiser shipments are significant. The brewing of lager had become
widely adopted, perhaps most notably in America, as far as Burton exports were
concerned. When Bass and Allsopp started their great expansions in the 1820s,
Pilsener beers did not exist. The German and Austrian brewing industries,
although long-established, were fragmented. Individual breweries were much
smaller than the great companies of England that had led the way during the
Industrial Revolution. Further, they were generally making brown beers because
they did not know how to produce pale malts. Anton Dreher of Vienna and
Gabriel Sedlmayer of Munich visited England on two occasions in the 1830s.
Their mission was to learn English brewing technology, and they reportedly
carried a hollowed-out walking stick to store surreptitiously obtained samples!
Dreher later tried to brew an English ale in Vienna, but apparently it did not sell
well. He then made a bottom-fermented lager using a pale malt, which married
the clean lager flavor with the coppery color of a pale ale.64 In 1842, the first
Pilsener was brewed in the Bohemian town of Pilsen, and the style soon became
favored in Germany.
Not long after that, a great migration of German peoples to America occurred.
Several of the immigrants were brewers, and they took with them their methods
for brewing the new lager beer. Soon ale brewers in America had a strong new
competitor, as did the Burton brewers exporting to this country. I look at that in
more detail later in this chapter.
What Exactly Was a Burton IPA
No known records remain of any of the original Burton IPAs. But by
examining subsequent published information, one can guess what they might
have been. Initially, IPA was not brewed in Burton Unions. (The Burton Union
System is a fermentation system in which fermenting beer overflows a wooden
cask via a swan neck and is recycled back into the cask.) Instead, the “dropping”
system of fermentation was used. In this system, the beer is allowed to ferment
in an open vat (called a round or square) and then is dropped into a cask for
cleansing—that is, a finishing fermentation during which the bulk of the yeast
settles out. Such a system would have created problems with beer clarity and
loss of beer if the original yeast was powdery and nonflocculent, as was certainly
the case later on.
The Burton Union System was invented by a Scotsman, Peter Walker, in
Liverpool in 1838.65 He apparently patented his “union set” system before
moving to Burton and opening his own brewery there in 1846 and setting up his
own system. This system was probably fairly crude at first, but it did allow for
better recycling of the beer that overflows from the bung hole of the cask. The
system’s name comes from the fact that sets of casks are joined in “union” by a
system of pipes and buckets.66 Presumably, the other Burton brewers soon picked
up on the method and later refined it by introducing the famous swan necks, by
which the overflow of yeasty beer was fed into an overhead barm trough, where
the yeast could be separated and the cleaned beer returned to the cask.
However, there are some discrepancies in the timing of the introduction of the
union system to Burton. One source says Bass began using unions around
1840.67 Another very respected beer historian indicates that the London brewer
Whitbread used a type of union system as early as the eighteenth century.68 And
a picture from Corran’s A History of Brewing (from Rees’s Cyclopedia, 1819–
1820) shows a type of union system, with beer fermenting in round vats and
overflowing into a collection vessel, a somewhat cruder system than that later
used in Burton. Perhaps unions were something that just evolved as brewers
tried to develop ways to avoid beer loss in their search for greater efficiencies
and profits. It is difficult to see how other brewers could have used unions if
Walker held a patent on them, but perhaps this is just another example of the
difficulty of accurately pinning down the history of brewing.
The Burton Union sets in the yard of the Bass Museum at Burton-on-Trent. Only Marston’s still operates
unions, which were once the only way to brew an IPA in Burton!
Brewers were spending a lot of money, and some public houses were going
for remarkably high sums. A consequence of this was a decline in profitability
for brewers, and even some bankruptcies. Allsopp of Burton was a prime
example of this. Their chase after pubs left them unable to pay a dividend in
1901. By 1913, they were in receivership (this is somewhat equivalent to today’s
Chapter 11 bankruptcy).95
Further, during the second half of the nineteenth century brewers all over the
country became adept at brewing the lighter pale ales. Even the so-called
“country brewers” were more knowledgeable of the science of brewing. Many of
them had grown to fair-sized concerns through take-overs of competitors in their
local markets. This ensured regional brewers had a good home base from which
to compete with other regional brewers and to establish footholds in the larger
cities like London.
During this time, there were many scientific advances—most notably the use
of refrigeration and the work of Louis Pasteur that showed the true role of yeast
in fermentation, followed by Emil Hansen’s isolation of single culture yeasts.
Other developments included pasteurization and the mechanization of bottling.
There were even advancements in filtration and artificial carbonation, although
for a time much of the output of England’s brewers was still draught beer in
cask. Further, the role of water quality in brewing had become much clearer and
the subsequent treatment of mash water with gypsum for the production of pale
beers had become widespread.96 The day of the brewer as chemist had dawned.
Competition, growth in brewery size, and scientific advances all led to a move
away from the classic IPA style for many brewers. In what numerous people
viewed as a lowering of quality (although the brewers themselves did not share
that view), they sought ways to produce their beers more cheaply through the use
of imported raw materials. As I pointed out earlier in the chapter, Bass (and
presumably other brewers in Burton and elsewhere) used a good deal of
imported hops, including those from America. But for many years, Bass had also
imported considerable amounts of malting barley from countries such as France,
Turkey, and Algeria, as well as California in America.97 Brewers also
investigated the use of other ingredients that would enable them to economize by
reducing malt usage. These included sugar and other cereals. For example, in
1874 a Bass chemist patented a process for treating starch-containing substances
that could be used as substitutes for malt.98
England never had anything like the German purity law, Reinheitsgebot.
However, something similar had effectively been in place through taxation on
malt and later hops. Malt was first taxed by Charles II in 1660. This tax was
placed on a firmer footing in the eighteenth century, when legislation was
introduced to prohibit the use of ingredients other than malt and hops. This ban
was rigidly enforced by the Inland Revenue, which was responsible for
collecting the tax and which in the early nineteenth century prosecuted many
porter brewers accused of using toxic adulterants. In 1847, a change in the law
permitted the use of sugar in brewing. This was the first real hole in the fabric of
what had virtually amounted to an English purity law. Barley growers lobbied
strongly against this change, especially after 1870 when their markets were
being eroded by cheap imports.99 They were themselves opposed by brewers
who formed the Free Mash Tun Association to promote the use of adjuncts.100
Then, in 1880, an event happened that not only opened the gates to the use of
malt substitutes, but ultimately led to the disappearance of IPA in its original style
in Britain. The Free Mash Tun Act, introduced by then Prime Minister Sir
William Gladstone, removed taxes on ingredients such as malt and hops,
replacing them by a single tax based only on wort original gravity. Over the
centuries, various British laws had affected brewers and drinkers—others
continue to do so even today—but the 1880 act was, in my opinion, the most far-
reaching. Its more important provisions included the following:
The first provision was perhaps the least important, since homebrewing had
already greatly diminished, but this law was almost the last nail in its coffin.
Homebrewing began to revive only in the 1950s, which was when I began
brewing. Since the taxation provisions of the Free Mash Tun Act were repealed
in 1963, it has flowered. As happened later in America, a renaissance in
homebrewing in England preceded the renaissance in commercial craftbrewing.
The second provision was significant in clearing the way to the use of
adjuncts. From 1900 to 1910, the use of sugar by English brewers escalated to
around 30% of the total amount of malt, while the use of cereals increased to as
much as 10% of the total.101 By 1914, grist composition had settled out to the
combination of 80% malt, with sugar and other cereals totaling about 20% of the
grist, which is pretty much the case today. Big, modern, commercial brewers
assert that using these adjuncts is essential because they are nitrogen diluents—
that is, they lower the total protein content of the beer and prevent chill haze. But
English traditional beers, and especially cask-conditioned real ales, should not be
served cold. Rather they should be served at around 52–55 °F (11–13 °C). So
this argument seems specious. Further, sugar and cereals are not adjuncts. The
term adjunct implies that something was added. Sugar and cereals add nothing;
they are merely cheap malt substitutes.
Perhaps the worst part of the Free Mash Tun Act was the third provision. The
method of taxation, basing the tax rate on an established original gravity, put
great pressure on brewers to ship their beer quickly and to reduce wort gravity
below the standard 1.057 (14 °P). The effect of this provision was not
instantaneous, partly because the figure selected was a real average for the time
and partly because the actual level of taxation was no higher than that paid at the
time on malt and hops. But taxation rates always tend to increase with time, and
the English government preferred taxing beer because (a) it raised a lot of money
quickly and (b) it allowed the government to take the moral high ground by
saying it was controlling alcohol consumption.
By 1900, the average original gravity of English beers was still around 1.055
(13.6 °P). The Great War of 1914–1918 changed that. During the war, taxes rose
steeply. By 1918, Bass, for example, was paying duty at the rate of about 20% of
its total production costs. It’s probably not surprising, then, that Bass ceased to
brew high-gravity beers. Yet worse was to come. Immediately after the war, beer
taxation began to increase rapidly. By 1921, the duty was 53% of Bass’s total
production costs!102
This trend was to continue. So did the move towards lower original gravities,
accelerated in part by shortages of raw materials during World War II. The
taxation level on strong beers increased almost exponentially as the standard
gravity, the baseline from which taxes were calculated, fell from Gladstone’s
1.057 (14.2 °P) in 1880 to 1.037 (9.3 °P) in 1950, its final level. But there was
further pressure on strong, well-matured beers. The tax was levied on the wort at
the time it was pitched to the fermenting vessel, which was also the time when
the tax became due! Thus, a high-gravity beer that required several months
keeping at the brewery before being shipped to the pub obviously presented the
brewer with severe cash-flow problems.
Since the really low beer gravities of the 1940s and 1950s, gravities have
recovered slightly. However, the gravity of today’s average commercially
brewed beer in England is still only just higher than 1.037 (9.3 °P). One bright
note is that the timing of the taxation has changed. Since 1993, the tax is now no
longer due when the wort is pitched, but only when the beer leaves the brewery
gate, and it is based on alcohol content rather than original gravity. As a result,
many new microbrewers, as well as some of the bigger regional brewers, have
extended their portfolios to include stronger bitters. A good number of these are
in the range of 1.050 (12.4 °P) and up, although most are still running beers.
However, it is worth pointing out that duty on a pint of beer at 5% alcohol might
still be 25 to 35% of the selling price. Drinkers in Britain pay more than half of
the total beer duty collected in the European Community!103
Other events have also played a part in the decline in the strength of English
beer. In the early twentieth century, England had a fairly strong prohibitionist,
anti–strong drink movement; fortunately, it came to nothing. Since the beginning
of the twentieth century, there also has been a trend toward drinking less strong
beers and drinking less beer, so overall per capita consumption has fallen from
about 40 U.S. gallons in the 1870s to around 30 U.S. gallons per capita in 1990.
This trend has accelerated somewhat in recent years because of the public’s
growing concern over health issues. Another factor in the lowering of beer
strength has been increased ownership of cars and hence stringent laws against
drinking and driving—people want smaller amounts of weak beer. But as I
mentioned earlier in the chapter, I believe the Free Mash Tun Act was far and
away the biggest single influence on the strength of today’s beers. I can only
wonder what the strength of beers might be if that act had never been passed.
But, why is bitter the predominant style? Why not pale ale? Why not IPA? As I
said at the opening of this section, even the concept of what an IPA should be
seems to have been forgotten by the few English brewers who still turn out beers
under this name. Brewers seemed to use the name pale ale and allowed the name
IPA to lapse, just as the East India export trade itself was retrenched. Competition
from lagers, as well as outside influences such as Prohibition in America,
resulted in the name no longer having the cachet it once had.
Bass, the giant of Burton, seemed to have given up the name IPA in favor of
pale ale by 1879, as I have already pointed out. It also led a trend towards the
term pale ale being applied to bottled rather than draught beers. From 1900 to
1905, Bass had 75% of its home trade in bottle; by 1914, 75% of its total pale ale
production was sold in bottle.104 Because of the Bass reputation for quality pale
beers, drinkers might have come to consider pale ale a bottled product, while the
name bitter stuck to the draught form. In England, there are still some draught
beers with the pale ale name. I have found about 30. This compares to about a
thousand different draught bitters available in 1997.
The origin of bitter as a style in its own right is much less clear-cut than was
the case for IPA. Pale beers dominate today in England, but bitter represents the
culmination of a slow trend that started in the eighteenth century. Despite the
evident popularity of IPAs in the nineteenth century, the bulk of beers sold then
were dark. As porter declined and virtually disappeared in that century, mild ale
took over. At first, mild was actually quite a strong beer, often stronger than the
porter it was replacing, and usually stronger even than the pale ale offered by the
same brewer! According to Charles Graham in “On Lager Beer,” Burton Mild
had an original gravity of 1.080 (19.3 °P), while the corresponding bitter had an
original gravity of 1.064 (15.7 °P) and the pale ale brought up the rear at 1.062
(15.2 °P).105
Michael Jackson, in The New World Guide to Beer, stated that even as late as
the 1940s the term bitter might not have been fully established.106 In some areas,
this might be true. For example, mild has always been the beer in England’s
Industrial Midlands, and the small regional brewer Daniel Batham apparently
brewed only dark mild until 1951, when it added a bitter to its regular repertoire.
Prior to then, there was apparently no demand for bitter in their tied estate!107
Yet, as far back as 1857, there is a written reference to “Bitter Ale.”108
Throughout the last quarter of the nineteenth century, there are many
references to bitter ales. We have already seen that both bitter and pale ale were
brewed in Burton, as well as by other brewers.109 This suggests that the two were
regarded as different styles of beer. Holden’s in the Midlands advertised a bitter
beer, BB, in 1899.110 In Newcastle in North-East England, mild is reported to
have died out around 1900, while bitter beers (corresponding to the specialty of
the Edinburgh brewers), as well as IPAs, had been brewed there several years
earlier.111 Friary, Meux was offering a bitter in 1876, as were other brewers in
Guildford, Surrey. Graham also refers to AK Bitter, as well as to Scotch Bitter, in
addition to the Burton Bitter.112
But why, if bitter was so widespread in the last century, did it not develop a
reputation like pale ale did? This is a difficult question to answer. However, it
seems to me that this might have been because bitter ales were a little bit of
everything to everybody. They included pale ales, as well as beers that were
somewhere between pale ales and milds and a whole host of beers under
designations such as family pale ale, dinner ale, family ale, light pale ale, and
light dinner ale. Much the same applies today, where original gravities of
draught bitters range from 1.030 (7.5 °P) to as high as 1.060 (14.7 °P) and
encompass a wide range of colors and bitterness.
The rise of bitter ales at first might have marked the brewers’ response to
customer demands for something lighter than the strong beers that were still the
main sellers. Remember that IPAs themselves were not as high in original gravity
as the dark Burton ales and porters that they replaced. The AK Bitters, mentioned
previously, were closer to modern premium bitters with an original gravity of
around 1.045 (11.2 °P). However, it does seem that they were as highly hopped
and as well-attenuated as pales and definitely not as sweet as mild ales.
It is also possible that some of the earlier bitter ales were between dark beers
and pales in terms of color. Since many of the smaller country brewers were
doing their own malting and were not as proficient as the Burton brewers, they
might simply have made malts too dark for brewing a pale ale. They might also
have had a sense, unlike their modern English counterparts, that pale ale was a
clear, well-defined style. Therefore, something that might have been similar, but
having not quite the same quality, had to be given a different name. A more
cynical possibility is that maybe they were simply adopting the common
brewer’s technique of using a different name in order to confuse the customer
and establish their own brands.
I do not think it was the latter. These beers were definitely highly hopped and
very bitter and therefore worthy of their name. I think they were truly a response
to what, in retrospect, was a burgeoning demand for a lighter-gravity, lower-
alcohol pale beer than had currently been offered. They perhaps did not represent
a clear style, and the style really never developed.
Around the turn of the nineteenth century, the range of ingredients available to
the brewer became wider, including not just adjuncts, as already discussed, but
also a slew of different-colored, different-flavored malts. Brown, pale, amber,
and even black patent malt had been available since at least the first quarter of
the eighteenth century, even earlier. The brewers could experiment not only with
brewing sugars, but also with the crystal malts and malt extracts that had become
available since 1880. Perhaps the crystal malts were the most interesting. This
was because they could add enticing red color notes to a pale beer, as well as
mouth-filling rich caramel tones to its flavor.
Mild ale drinkers who found a straight, highly hopped pale ale too bitter might
have been glad to try something that was a little less bitter but still fairly malty.
Over a long time, the trend towards pale beers that really started with IPAs
eventually resulted in the almost complete elimination of dark beers that
appeared first as porters and later became mild ales. It was obviously a trend that
was very strong in other countries, such as America, where pale lagers had
almost taken over the whole stage even before Prohibition. But the move in
England was much slower, with dark draught mild ales still outselling draught
bitter in as late as 1960. Pale lagers did not establish any serious position in
England until the late 1960s.113 Charles Graham’s prediction that there would be
a demand for the lighter, more refreshing lager rather than the heavier English
ales of the period would not be quickly fulfilled.114 Note, however, that the high
hopping rates he quoted in “On Lager Beer” are no longer used. Certainly from
1880 on, bittering levels of modern English bitters and pale ales are much lower,
in general, than they were in the nineteenth century.
As we have seen, around the turn of the century mild was often stronger than
pale or bitter ale. This was to change completely, for reasons that are not very
clear. As taxation and other social factors pressed heavily on brewery production
costs, the brewers responded by decreasing the original gravities of their beers.
Mild suffered the most, perhaps because it (and its predecessor, porter) was
favored by working class drinkers. Many of these people were still working in
physically demanding jobs such as coal mining and in iron and steel smelting
and fabrication, and they consumed a great deal of beer, so price was a strong
consideration for them. The paler beers were still favored by the more affluent
middle classes, who were probably willing to pay a little extra for them. In
addition, such beers still enjoyed the reputation for quality that Burton brewers
had created for pale ale.
After World War II, mild from any given brewer was lower in strength than
the bitter offered by the same brewer. That situation continues today. Mild has
consistently declined in popularity since then, to the extent that many brewers no
longer offer a mild and those that do often do so only in a “keg” form, rather
than as a traditional real ale. Indeed, the British drinker’s consumer group CAMRA
(the Campaign for Real Ale) has deemed it necessary to organize a special
crusade to save traditional mild ale from extinction.
With the decline of mild in favor of pale beers, bitter became the top-
fermented beer that people wanted to drink. A brewer might have only one mild,
but he would often have two or more bitters of differing strengths, so he could
cater both to the cost-conscious drinker and to his up-market customers. Brewers
could—and did—use crystal and other roasted malts (chocolate or black), as
well as different hops and hopping rates, to differentiate their bitters from one
another and from the products of their competitors.
As the microbrewing renaissance got under way in England in the late 1970s,
the trend towards decreasing the original gravity slowed as many of the new
brewers saw a market niche in producing stronger than average bitters. In 1997,
of the thousand or more real ales under the broad title “bitter,” half were in the
range 1.040–1.049 (10–12.2 °P) and another 140 were above 1.050 (12.4 °P).115
In other words, two-thirds of the beers on sale were above the average gravity of
about 1.037 (9.3 °P) for all beers sold. If that is not quite clear, the average value
is based on the quantities of beer sold at any particular gravity, while the other
figures refer to the actual number of brands available. Since the major brewers
manufacture on a much larger scale than the micros, it is their outputs that
determine the overall average gravity.
But bitter did not have things all its own way. Pale lager was to become a
much more important competitor than the declining mild ale. It started to
increase in popularity in the early 1960s and continued to gather steam until the
1990s. Today, pale lagers make up almost half of the total English consumption.
Many English lagers are of poor quality, low gravity, and high price, sometimes
ersatz top-fermented lager rather than the proper bottom-fermented version. Yet
many drinkers favor such brews over the traditional beers that are their national
heritage. Much the same could be said of industrial beers of modern America
(and those of many other countries!); in fact, even Bud (as it must be called in
Britain under copyright laws) and Miller are commonly found in English pubs.
Curiously, some Australian beers, which are clearly pale Pilsener-type lagers in
style, still bear the name bitter. For example, Castlemaine XXXX is described on
its label as a bitter, and a similar brew from Carlton United Breweries bears the
name Victoria Bitter. Although such beers are not bitters, this does suggest that
the style might have been brewed in Australia earlier in the century, before the
widespread move from ales to lagers in that country.
Traditional Real Ale
For the most part, the English drink their beer in pubs, rather than at home.
Although this pattern has changed in the last decade or so, it still holds for
almost 80% of the beer drunk. This means that most beer is draught beer, rather
than bottled or canned. And for centuries that has meant that the pre-eminent
English drink has been what is now called real ale.
What does that mean? Quite simply, real ale is a living beer. It is racked into a
cask after fermentation and undergoes no further processing such as
pasteurization, chilling, or filtration, although finings and a small amount of
priming sugars are often added at racking. The cask is then shipped to the pub,
where it undergoes a secondary fermentation in the cellar, thereby giving the
beer a suitable carbon dioxide content, or condition. So, another term for real ale
is cask-conditioned beer.
Around the corner from the British Museum in London, the Sun offers more real ales than you can swing an
empty glass at.
Although the lifeless keg beer of the 1960s and 1970s has been largely
forgotten, a new enemy to real ale has emerged—the nitrokeg. Guinness
pioneered the use of nitrogen and carbon dioxide mixtures for dispensing its
draught version. In the early 1990s, other companies adapted it for dispensing
processed bitter (that is, chilled, filtered, pasteurized, and carbonated keg,
canned, and even bottled beers). Nitrokeg is a method of dispensing in which
mixed-gas dispense gives a beer with a low carbon dioxide content that is
smooth-drinking, like a real ale, but still stable and much easier to handle than
traditional real ale. Some beers of this type are available in cans in America,
usually with the word pub somewhere in their name to impress the unwary
drinker with the idea that he is getting something every bit as good as real ale.
CAMRA disagrees strongly with this practice and is fighting hard to prevent it
from further pushing out real ale. But it will be a struggle, for the new-style
smooth beers have proven to be quite successful and are being heavily
publicized by the big brewers (who seldom spend any significant money on
advertising real ale). It might be that mixed-gas dispense is not, itself, a bad
thing and detracts only a little from a well-made beer. The problem really lies in
the fact that it is applied to processed, bland, and characterless beers. Carefully
brewed traditional bitter, properly kept and conditioned in cask and then
mechanically dispensed, is unquestionably English beer at its best. Real ale is
still king to any drinker who wants beer with character and flavor.
America and IPA
I have left the subject of America and IPA until last because the history of pale
ales is largely an English one. But it is not the least section, because modern
American microbrewers, unlike their English counterparts, have remained much
truer to the original IPA.
English-style ales were brewed in America almost since the landing of the
Mayflower, although only on a very small scale until the latter part of the
eighteenth century. As industrialization got under way, so too did commercial
brewing. But the American eighteenth-century brewers (largely concentrated in
Philadelphia and New York City) seem to have focused on brewing porter,
brown ales, and even some mild ales. Pale ale did not fit into the picture, and it
remained small-scale compared to what was going on in England. For example,
in 1810 there were 132 commercial brewers in America. Their total production
was 185,000 barrels, compared to 235,100 barrels turned out in the same year by
just one London brewer—Barclay, Perkins.118
The American brewing industry was still small when the lager revolution
began. For example, steam engines were not widely used until around the 1850s,
almost 70 years after the London porter brewers had found it necessary to
mechanize. Lager yeast was first brought to American by John Wagner, a
Philadelphia brewer, probably around 1840. After that, pale lager beers rapidly
established themselves, helped by the high level of German immigration around
that time. At first, lager brewing was a very local affair, its product designed for
consumption by a population close by. But it soon became more popular, perhaps
helped by the hot climates of the new areas of the country that were being
opened up to settlers.
Thus, lager was on the scene in America about the time pale ale brewing
began. This meant that pale ale never established the market share that it did in
England, where lager did not become significantly popular until after World War
II. As a result, nothing like the development of pale ale into bitter ever occurred
in America. Indeed, until recently, nothing like bitter was being produced in the
United States, and only a few beers were brewed that were true top-fermented
pale, bitter ales. That changed dramatically with the arrival of the microbrewing
revolution, but I get to that a little later.
When I came to America in 1977, domestic beers were almost entirely pale
lagers, only very loosely in the Pilsener style. Homebrewing remained illegal,
although it was still carried on clandestinely. The more sophisticated drinkers
protested this situation by purchasing ever-increasing amounts of more
distinctive imported beers. When I first arrived, I was dreadfully disappointed in
what was offered at my local liquor stores. One exception was Ballantine’s IPA,
brewed at that time in Narragansett, Rhode Island. Intrigued by the label, I tried
it, not really expecting too much. What a surprise! It was full of malty body,
stuffed with hop character and bitterness, and overlaid with the flavor of oak—
something entirely new to me in a beer. I decided that all was not lost if I could
drink beer like that!
Peter Ballantine, a Scot, moved to America around 1833 and set up a brewery
in Albany, New York, then an important brewing center.119 In 1840, he moved to
Newark, New Jersey, and started brewing there. It is not clear when he first
produced his IPA, but at the time that he moved, Burton IPA was in its first
flowering in England. Perhaps, just as the German immigrants took their own
lager methods with them, so did Ballantine take with him the IPA he loved. He
also brewed a Ballantine Ale, which was likewise produced in Rhode Island
when I came to America. However, it was more like a pale, lightly hopped bitter
than an IPA. He also brewed Burton Ale, reportedly aged for up to ten years. I
have not found an example of this beer myself, but according to Michael Jackson
in his Brewer’s Guardian article—“Will the Americans help us discover our IPA
heritage?”—it also was a pale beer, rather than of the dark Burton style.120
It is interesting to note that Ballantine’s IPA was one of the handful of beers
that survived Prohibition (as did Ballantine’s Ale). It also outlived a series of
takeovers of the brewery, first in Newark and then when the Falstaff group
bought the Newark brewery, after which its production was moved to Rhode
Island, then to Fort Wayne, Indiana, and finally to its present site in Milwaukee,
Wisconsin. Ballantine’s IPA was dry-hopped, using whole hops, and given hop
character by means of hop oil produced by the brewery’s own steam-distillation
process. As late as the 1960s, it had 60 IBU, thereby making it very bitter by
modern standards.
Ballantine’s IPA apparently was matured for a year in oak tanks, accounting for
its unusual oaky flavor. Where Ballantine got this idea is unknown, and this
flavor was certainly not matched in any English IPA. Maybe he used American
oak vessels because he had no access to European oak and then found that he
liked the flavor obtained from the more porous American wood. Did he consider
an oak flavor to be an authentic characteristic of IPA? If so, was he actually
correct in this view or had he simply assumed it to be the case because the early
IPAs spent so much time in oak casks? Clearly, the English IPA did not pick up
any flavors from the wood. There also is some evidence that at least a few of the
brewers lined their casks with pitch.121 This was probably done to ensure the
integrity of the cask, rather than to prevent the beer from developing a wood
flavor, but the effect on flavor would have been the same.
I have talked with one or two English coopers about this. They were emphatic
that the density of the wood would not permit the leaching of oak flavors into the
beer. My own experience drinking real ale from wooden casks, which were the
norm for beer storage in England when I first began drinking beer, is that
English bitter beers had no oak character whatsoever. However, since these
would have been running beers—stored in casks for only a week or two—it’s
possible there simply was not enough time to pick up such flavors. Perhaps more
to the point, casks were used and reused many times, with quite severe steam
cleaning between each use. This certainly would have leached out tannins,
vanillins, and any other beer-soluble oak chemicals. Yet, just for the record,
Pamela Sambrook, in her book Country House Brewing in England, reports that
in the great country house breweries of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
it was customary to treat new wooden casks before use.122 Such treatment
included scalding with boiling mixtures of grain, walnut leaves, and new hay or
straw and then storing the casks for a week or more before use. She goes on to
say that new casks were used for small beer only for the first year! Of course,
such treatments might have been simply to ensure that the casks were clean and
watertight. They might not have been top-grade oak casks like those favored by
the Burton brewers and might even have been made of other woods.
The modern version of Ballantine IPA no longer has the complexity of hop
bitterness, hop character, and oakiness of the original, but it still remains an
interesting brew. Other American ales produced in the late eighteenth and early
nineteenth centuries were pale in color and very bitter, but these were generally
called stock ales, rather than IPAs or pale ales. Stock ales were brewed only from
pale malt, with additions of 25% sugar in the grist. Original gravities were
around 1.064–1.072 (15.7– 17.5 °P), and hop rates were high, as much as 2–3
pounds/barrel (5–8 ounces per 5 U.S. gallons), which would certainly have put
them into the IPA range.123 It is not clear how common these ales were. Probably
they were rare, since at that time ales in general were on the decline in America.
Very few American ales survived the trauma of Prohibition and of those that
did, many were converted to the bastard cream ale style. These are mostly
bottom-fermented beers, very pale in color and not very bitter. Nor, in my
opinion, are they very much different from the ubiquitous American industrial
Pilseners. And there, for a while, the story rested, with only Ballantine’s IPA
remaining as a tenuous link with English pale ales and bitters.
The story took a new turn with the revival of steam beer by Fritz Maytag in
his San Francisco Anchor Brewery. This beer, although bottom fermented, can
be regarded as a subspecies of bitter/pale ale in that it is a pale, noticeably bitter
beer with some ale-type fruitiness, rather than the “smoother” lager flavor.
Maytag was intrigued by Ballantine’s Burton Ale and subsequently visited
several English traditional breweries.124 There he was further intrigued by the use
of dry-hopping in cask, which in turn led to his introducing Liberty Ale in 1975,
a dry-hopped pale beer of 1.057 OG (14 °P). Although considered by many to be
an IPA, Liberty Ale actually represented a new style of the beer. This was because
it was aggressively hopped with American Cascades, which gave the beer a very
distinctive, floral character. I remember tasting this in front of a group of
enthusiastic New England homebrewers in the early 1980s and remarking,
“They could bury me with a cask of this!”
Liberty Ale could be regarded as simply carrying on the Burton tradition—
recall that Bass used considerable amounts of American hops in the nineteenth
and twentieth centuries. However, these hops would have been mainly from the
East Coast, probably New York (as would those Ballantine used originally).
Also, they probably would have been more like English hops, such as Northern
Brewer and Bramling Cross, although as I said earlier in the chapter, their black
currant flavor was not English. They would almost certainly not have been
anything like Cascades, which was not developed and grown in the American
Northwest until well into this century.
It is the use of American hops, and Cascades in particular, that defines the new
American IPA style, even though many such beers are truer to the original than
modern English beers under that name. American IPA has become a style all its
own, or at least a substyle of pale ale, for Liberty Ale was followed by others in
a similar vein.
In 1981, brewer Bert Grant took a step in a different direction, with an IPA
from Yakima Brewing Company. This beer supposedly was based on historical
data and brewed in the style of an original IPA. With about 60 IBU (from
American hops), it certainly had the bitterness required for the style, but its
original gravity of 1.048 (11.9 °P) was somewhat low for an “original” pale ale.
It can be argued that Grant broke new ground by introducing the modern
American drinker to very bitter beers and in doing so really started the whole
trend to such beers, particularly in the Northwest states.
Also in 1981 came the founding of the Sierra Nevada Brewing Company and
the subsequent production of its pale ale. To me, this ale is perhaps the defining
pale ale of the new American style. It is somewhat low in original gravity, 1.052
(12.9 °P), and is brewed with a yeast that gives it a very clean characteristic with
little of the estery fruitiness so typical of an ale. The lower original gravity and
lack of ester character did not fit the specifications of the original English IPAs,
but its hoppiness certainly did. The really distinguishing characteristic of this
beer was the brewer’s liberal use of Cascades, both for hop bitterness and hop
character. The floral, herbal nature of this hop seems to burst out of this beer at
every angle, making it both big and complex and far removed from anything
offered by mainstream American brewers.
As the microbrewing movement flourished in America, others followed the
IPA trend. Pike Brewing Company (Seattle), Harpoon Brewery (Boston),
Steelhead Brewery (Eugene, Oregon), the now-defunct Manhattan Brewery
(New York), Shipyard Brewing (Portland, Maine), and several others have
produced IPAs. Not all used Cascades, but all used American hops. This generally
resulted in beers of more powerful hop character than could be achieved with the
traditional English pale ale varieties, Goldings and Fuggles. Given the decline of
IPA in England, this is a very important development. American microbrewers
can be proud of their efforts not only in bringing back a historically important
beer style, but also in taking it a step further and giving it an undeniably
American character.
However, there was another important occurrence in American microbrewing.
Most of the new American micros that sprang up concentrated on ale production.
This is a somewhat simpler process than lager production, and, perhaps more
important, it requires a good deal less space and capital, so it lent itself well to
small companies starting up on a low budget. There was a lead-in from England,
too, where microbrewing got under way rather earlier—in the 1970s—
producing, of course, mainly ales. A good number of these American micros got
their start with equipment designed by supply companies originally set up to
cater to the English market. A notable example of this was Peter Austin, who
started out by setting up the Ringwood brewery in Hampshire.
Many of the new micros offered versions of pale ale, those generally tending
towards somewhat higher gravities than the English average. In addition, some
brewed versions of extra special bitter (ESB), seeing this as a style in itself. It is
not. Rather, it is really only a bitter at the top end of the original gravity range.
Although there are comparable beers in England, I know of only one that is
actually called an ESB, which is brewed by Fuller’s in London (although there are
a fair number of beers brewed in England at similar gravities to Fuller’s ESB).
Even this beer was only introduced in the 1970s! It was actually first sold as a
winter ale, replacing, of all things, Fuller’s dark Old Burton!125
Other American micros turned out something they called amber ale. One
example was Newman’s Albany Amber Ale, produced at Newman’s in Albany,
New York, the first American microbrewery I visited. On the East Coast, New
Amsterdam Amber was available early on and was contract-brewed for a New
York company; Catamount Amber out of Vermont soon followed. However,
Mendocino’s Red Tail Ale, introduced in 1983, might be the first example of an
amber ale. This appellation became fairly common all over the country, and
some have argued that it should be treated as a separate style.126 It is usually a
somewhat darker beer than pale ale, relying on crystal malts to differentiate it
from pale ale, and it is generally not aggressively hopped. It was a wide-ranging
style at first. Some examples of it were quite big and malty and even quite bitter,
while others were much more restrained. Some brewers even looked upon it as a
stepping stone between mainstream lagers and the more characterful pale ales,
intending it to introduce inquiring but less sophisticated drinkers to beers of
character.
It could be argued that American amber ale fits nicely into the wide-ranging
English bitter style. One American microbrewer was quoted as saying that such
ales were regarded as bitters, but no micro in America wanted to use that name
for fear of offending potential customers! Their amber color is certainly no
darker than that of many modern English bitters. Also, most English brewers use
caramel or crystal malts in their bitters. Amber ales are usually all-malt beers,
with no adjuncts, but this does not in itself distinguish them from bitters.
Although the use of sugar and adjuncts is common English practice, many of the
new English micros use only malt.
Amber ales differ somewhat from English bitter. They are usually brewed
with domestic malt and hops, and the lighter character of domestic pale malts
leads to a greater emphasis on crystal malt flavors. However, perhaps the most
important difference between the two types of beer is that American amber ales
are not normally real ales. This is because they are served at much higher
carbonation levels than true cask-conditioned beer. Also, they are usually
filtered, although many of them are sterile-filtered so as to avoid the need for
pasteurization. I return to this issue in chapter 2. But I point out here that these
last two factors would be enough for any English devotee of traditional beers to
argue that American amber ales have a quite different character and flavor from
a true real ale.
A most intriguing later development in the American microbrewing scene is
that even cask-conditioned real ale is now being brewed. A number of brewpubs
have offered something called real ale for quite a while, when they have served
straight from the conditioning tanks to the bar. However, although this ale has
not been filtered, all too often it has been kept under a carbon dioxide blanket,
thereby resulting in a much gassier product than real ale should be. CAMRA’s
definition of real ale explicitly excludes the introduction of carbon dioxide,
either as a protective blanket or for dispense.
Genuine real ale currently is available only in America on a relatively small
scale and in limited quantities from a few brewers, such as Wharf Rat in
Baltimore; the Sherlock’s Home in Minnetonka, Minnesota; and Atlantic Coast
Brewing in Boston. There have even been a couple of real ale symposiums held
in Chicago. At the 1997 one, at least 100 American-brewed real ales were
offered, although fewer than half of those were pale beers. It is intriguing to
wonder just how popular this type of ale will become in the United States. It
likely will remain a very small part of pub and microbrewery sales, which in
itself is only a niche market.
American microbrewing is a vibrant and growing industry, and no one knows
how big it will eventually become. Already there are more new micros and
brewpubs in the United States than there are in England, although they are, of
course, much more spread out. The brewing industry has come a long way in the
20 years I have lived in America, and good beer is no longer almost impossible
to find. But we are still a long way from having a good pub on the corner of
every street. There are none in my town, although there are some good micros
within reasonable traveling distance, with more and more coming on the scene
each year.
One thing is sure—the art of brewing pale ale is just as alive and well in
America as it is in its original home, England. And in many ways, the American
small brewer has been more inventive than his English counterpart, giving the
pale ale style a greater depth and dimension than it ever had.
CHAPTER 2
Style Definitions and Profiles of Pale
Ales
Brewers who want to follow their own individual path can ignore styles if
they wish and still produce perfectly good beers. But I want to explain here why
the concept of style is both necessary and useful. I also want to define the
attributes of the pale ale style and the substyles that make up this great class of
beer. My reasons for doing this are quite simple: You just cannot brew pale ale,
or beer of any particular style, unless you understand what the attributes of that
style are.
Why Do We Need Style Definitions?
For all of the important input of new American brewers, pale ale is still an
English style. Yet, pale ale is not the correct title for the style! In modern terms,
most English beers are bitters, and brews such as pale ale, IPA, light ale,
American IPA, amber ale, and so on are really substyles of the great class of
bitter. In using the term pale ale, we bow to the historical derivation of this beer.
Yet, even this is wrong. As I mentioned in chapter 1, IPA was the precursor of
pale ales, so history says we should really use the term IPA to include all of these
other beers.
But all of this is semantics. Perhaps you feel that it is unnecessary jargon, that
there is really no need to define a style and that all that matters is whether the
beer in question tastes good. In this respect, it is interesting to look at what might
be regarded as the classic books on brewing technology. Few of these attempt to
define styles, and generally they deal with them in a very cursory manner. For
example, H. Lloyd Hind, in Brewing Science and Practice, does not mention
bitter at all.1 However, he does quote two pale ales at original gravities of 1.055
(13.6 °P) and 1.050 (12.4 °P) and a “light pale ale for bottling” at the lower
gravity of 1.040 (10.0 °P). The revered brewing scientist Jean de Clerck, in A
Textbook of Brewing, refers only to pale ale, or bitter, and makes no distinction
between the two.2
A more modern English text, Malting and Brewing Science, Volume I,
published in 1971, refers just briefly to pale ales when discussing beer types and
gives only a bitter recipe when it comes to grist preparation.3 More recent
American books are no better. William Hardwick says in 1995’s Handbook of
Brewing, “Pale ale is also called bitter,”4 while the German writer, W. Kunze,
differentiates in Technology Brewing and Malting between them by stating that
bitter is a darker beer than is pale ale.5 Further, a duo of American and English
brewing gurus, Michael J. Lewis and Tom W. Young, make no mention of the
styles at all in their book, Brewing!6
I am not sure what all this means. Perhaps it reflects the fact that the writers
simply find it almost impossible to define styles or that today’s brewing
scientists are concentrating too much on the brewing process at the expense of
beers of character. More likely, they would say that all that matters is good beer
and that the concept of style in itself is unnecessary. So why do we want to talk
in terms of a style and to try to define what a beer should be like in order to fit its
designated style?
There are some fairly obvious reasons for pinning down beer styles. For
example, homebrewing competitions would be chaotic without any guidelines to
follow. You can compare 10 or so very different beers, as is done in the best of
show category, but you cannot compare stouts directly with IPAs or barley wines
or Pilseners or Belgian ales when you are dealing with hundreds, or even
thousands, of entries. A second reason is that the idea of a distinct style is very
convenient shorthand for beer writers and their readers. For example, without the
idea of a style, it would be very difficult for me to recommend a particular beer
or even a pub and its products and to have you understand what is really good
about it and decide whether you want to seek it out for yourself. Rather than
simply saying how well it matches the style, I would have to describe in great
detail how every beer is brewed in order to give you an idea what it was like.
Third, the idea of what a certain style should be is very useful to brewers,
whether amateur or professional. A good yardstick of your brewing ability is
how well your brew matches what you set out to achieve, as defined by style
guidelines. In addition, an able brewer should be able to devise a suitable recipe
by interpreting the attributes of a particular style. The concept is useful even for
beginners, since kit manufacturers, for example, usually use style designations to
sell their products.
Fourth, it is important that you drink beer with an understanding of what a
style should be in order to develop a taste for the various aspects of beer flavor.
How can you judge whether you really like a beer unless you comprehend why it
tastes like it does? If you don’t know what hop bitterness is, how can you say
whether you like the bitterness in the beer you are drinking or whether you want
something with a more malty character? If you cannot make that kind of
distinction, what kind of criteria can you possibly use to distinguish between
good and bad beers?
Fifth, we need style definitions in order to pay proper homage to beer’s long
history. While Henry Ford said that history is bunk and we should certainly not
be slaves to it, it also is true that only an idiot would ignore lessons that have
already been learned. The wise brewer draws on the lessons of history in the
light of modern scientific knowledge of the brewing process. This is particularly
important for microbrewers that, rather than merely copying modern industrial
beers, want to produce a beer of character, one that is true to its heritage and yet
can be handled and distributed in a modern context.
Perhaps the most important reason for being concerned about style definitions
is that it is a way to keep commercial brewers honest. Unfortunately, such
brewers have, in their rush to sell their products, too often proved eager to give
their beers appellations and heritage that they do not merit. I mentioned in
chapter 1 how the term IPA has been applied to beers in England that clearly do
not bear any relationship to the original IPA. British brewers, too, have tried hard
to persuade drinkers that low-gravity, top-fermented, adjunct-laden lagers are
every bit as good as anything out of Germany. They also have tried to pass off
filtered, pasteurized keg beers as being the same as traditional cask-conditioned
brews. The big American brewers are already moving in on the microbrewing
scene. In some cases, they are tied up with micros in distribution deals and
partnerships, while in others, they introduce “specialty” beers of their own—
even Anheuser-Busch has come out with a pale ale.
And of course, the world is awash with beers called “Pils” or “Pilsener,” none
of which bear any resemblance to the creations of the town of Pilsen.
Homebrewing books commonly state that it is difficult to brew American light
beers because there are no strong flavors to hide brewing faults. What kind of a
beer is it when that is the only positive thing you can say about it?
Commercial imperatives mean that big brewers will always tend to blur style
definitions. They do not really understand the individual brew of character that
will appeal only to a minority of drinkers. Like so many other manufacturers,
they have become obsessed with the “brand” concept. And let me be quite clear
that this concept is aimed at getting consumers to buy by name and not by the
quality they perceive in the product.
How does a drinker know what qualities to look for in a beer? By tasting it, of
course. Ideally, the drinker will be expert enough to rate, by taste alone, any beer
as worthwhile or not. More likely, they will start by choosing a style and
assessing whether the beer is good within the limits of that style. Defining a style
is a question of setting standards, and quality is all about standards and
principles.
This does not mean that style definitions must be limiting. They are guidelines
only. To quote one writer, “Style guidelines ought to be descriptive, not
prescriptive.”7 Brewers making a pale ale should work within certain limits, if
their product is to be authentic. Yet, they might deviate from some of those in
order to improve their product and even to invent a new style or substyle of an
existing style. Deviating from all of them might result in the “ultimate beer,” but
please, do not call it a pale ale! What is also unacceptable is deviating from the
style limits in order to cheapen the beer or to dumb it down just to appeal to a
larger audience, and then draw on the style’s heritage as a selling point.
For further interesting discussions on the need for style definitions, read “The
Last Wort” by Alan Moen and “Beer Styles: An International Analysis” by Keith
Thomas.8
Sorting Out What Makes a Style—Bitter Rules!
In my youth, I thought differentiating among styles was simple: pale ale was
bottled, and bitter was draught. In the first edition of Pale Ale, I gaily simplified
things and made a quite arbitrary split between pale ale, bitter, and IPA based on
original gravity. Later, I realized the situation was more complex than that, and
now I see the whole issue as incredibly complicated! Not only is there pale ale,
light ale, IPA, bitter, ESB, American amber ale, American pale ale, and American
IPA, but also cask-conditioned bitters, filtered and pasteurized keg versions, beers
served with carbon dioxide pressure or mixed nitrogen/carbon dioxide, and
micro-filtered beers. Even bottled beers can be filtered and pasteurized, sterile
filtered, or bottle-conditioned. I realized that all of these different methods of
packaging and serving the beer can have just as profound an effect on its flavor
as the techniques used in the actual brewing process.
It could be argued also that beers from other countries might be included
under the pale ale banner. Kölsch beer from Cologne, Germany, and some of the
strong Belgian ales could be considered to belong to this category, but they
actually are different enough to be considered styles in their own right. I
discussed in the last chapter how the Scots played a significant part in the history
of pale ale. However, true Scottish ales are in a category of their own. This is
because they emphasize malt rather than hops, and hoppiness is a dominant
factor in pale ales. Some very good bitters and pale ales are brewed in Scotland
and in Wales today, but these are generally in the style that originated in
England.
An idyllic English village and an oddly named inn with a brewery attached–what more could you want?
To make some sense of this category, I start with English bitters. I made a
survey of them from several published sources.9 They include both bottled and
draught beers. Some of the former are filtered and pasteurized, and others are
conditioned in the bottle. All of the draught beers are cask-conditioned, that is,
they are not filtered and pasteurized keg beers; those dispensed by mixed gas are
excluded. These latter largely represent the output of the major brewers, which
almost by definition is brewed to average specifications and can be ignored for
our purposes—perhaps an arbitrary decision, but at best such beers can be
regarded only as a lesser variation of the style.
The survey, whose results are summarized in figure 1, showed that of 1,187
beers, 1,043 are draught and only 144 (12%) are bottled. Of the 1,187, 41 (3.5%)
are designated as IPAs and 82 (6.9%) as pale and light ales. Thus, bitters total
1,064 (89.6%), and even among bottled beers, 58% of them are designated as
bitter!
FIGURE 1
Occurrence of English Pale Ale Varieties
This survey shows fairly conclusively the dominance of draught bitter among
English beers. In fact, the “bitter” column heading in figure 1 represents the
three major categories as determined by original gravity: 1.030–1.039 (7.6–9.8
°P), 1.040–1.049 (10.0–12.2 °P), and 1.050+ (12.4 °P+). These can be broadly
described as, respectively, ordinary bitter, best bitter, and strong bitter. However,
those are really marketing terms, and they are confusing in that they are only
relative. Some brewers offer beers in each of these ranges, some have more than
one in any or even all of the ranges, others have beers in any two of the three,
and a few offer only one. Figure 1 does not quite tell the whole story, since it
shows only the total number of bitters. A better picture can be obtained by
looking at the average for each range, as shown in figure 2.
FIGURE 2
Distribution of Bitter Ales
In the figure, the center bar of each trio is the average for each category:
Clearly, there is some skew in these numbers, with ordinary coming close to the
top of its range, best in the lower half, and strong only just over its lowest limit.
In fact, the American Homebrewers Association (AHA) 1998 Competition Style
Guidelines Chart actually fits these averages quite nicely, giving the following
ranges:10
I prefer the wider ranges for the three designations. But where does that leave
English pale ale? The AHA designates it as being 1.044–1.056 (11.0–13.8 °P); in
other words, it spans the top of the range for best bitter into the bottom of that
for strong bitter. Michael Jackson states in The New World Guide to Beer that a
premium gravity bitter might sometimes be designated as pale ale.11 But, as I
showed earlier in the chapter, less than 7% of English cask-conditioned beer and
bottled beer is actually called pale ale by their brewers! In fact, of the beers I
surveyed the total number of draught and bottled pale and light ales ran to only
52, with an average gravity of 1.034 (8.5 °P) and a range of 1.026–1.056 (6.6–
13.8 °P). Note that light ales are low-gravity bottled beers and are often simply
bottled versions of a draught bitter (they are invariably chilled, filtered,
carbonated, and pasteurized). For our purposes here, they can hardly be regarded
as classic beers, and since their inclusion in the style only further confuses some
pretty complex relationships, I propose to ignore them from now on in this book.
Some bottled pale ales fit Michael Jackson’s designation, notably Worthington
White Shield at 1.056 (13.8 °P); its pedigree extends back to the original IPAs.
Bass brewed this beer after absorbing Worthington’s Brewing. Now they have
licensed its production to the regional brewer King & Barnes of Sussex.12
Another in this category, at least for someone with my predilections, is Young’s
Ramrod at 1.049 (12.2 °P), a beer available in America.
I agree with Michael Jackson that English pale ales are bottled beers, with
gravities of 1.045–1.055 (11.2–13.6 °P). In modern terms, these are mainly
processed beers, rather than bottle-conditioned. However, commercially brewed
bottle-conditioned beers have undergone something of a renaissance in England
in the last few years. This is the same gravity range I quoted in the first edition
of Pale Ale and is clearly arbitrary. Given that most beers now called “pale ale”
are of a much lower original gravity than this, it is clear that in this case I am
defining pale ale on the basis of what it should be, rather than what it is!
Note that this original gravity puts pale ale in the same gravity band as strong
bitters. But since these are draught beers, there will be some flavor differences
between them and bottled pale ale. Pale ale is sometimes described as having a
nuttier flavor than draught bitter. It will certainly have a more “prickly” character
due to the higher carbonation in bottle (even if it is bottle-conditioned and not
pasteurized). To some extent, it also will be drier than cask-conditioned bitter
and might therefore appear to be somewhat more bitter. In addition, cask-
conditioned bitters might be dry hopped in the cask, thereby giving it a hop
aroma and character that is not present in bottled beers. Dry hopping in England
is sometimes considered a common practice with cask-conditioned beers (see,
for example, Michael Jackson).13 It seems to me that many modern English
bitters do not have much in the way of dry-hop character, and certainly they have
less than they did 20 or more years ago. Or is it just that everybody says, as they
get older, that “beer isn’t what it was”?
ESB-type bitters fall into the class of strong draught bitter, although the
original ESB from Fuller’s is also sold in bottle. However, unlike some American
brewers, I do not see this as a separate substyle. I see it more as a brand name for
a particular strong bitter and do not propose to call it anything else.
When it comes to bittering levels and color, there is a good deal less
information available on English bitter. What there is shows that there is little
difference in bitterness levels between the three draught types. They all fall into
the range of 21–45 IBU, and it is surprising that there is no clear-cut pattern of
increasing bittering with increasing beer strength. This would indicate that
ordinary bitters frequently might taste more bitter than their stronger, more malty
relatives. It might also indicate that some brewers underhop a beer that, by
definition, should be bitter. However, I have bittering data on only about 15% of
the total number of beers in the survey, so the sample is rather small to make
firm conclusions. Note that this gives a very different picture than that given in
the AHA style guidelines, which quote IBUs of 20–35 for ordinary bitter, 28–46
for best bitter, and 30–55 for strong bitter.14 While this order of increasing
bitterness with increasing strength is what I would favor in my own brewing, it
does not reflect the reality of the English market. It would mean that, for
example, Draught Bass at an original gravity of 1.043 (10.7 °P) and 26 IBU
would not fit the AHA guidelines for IPA.15
As for color, I have data on an even smaller sample—about 10% of the total.
The range of these is surprisingly wide, 5–26 °SRM, with the average being 13
°SRM. This is certainly wider than the 8–14 °SRM I quoted in my first book (this
figure is also what is given in the AHA style guidelines). This represents in part a
trend in England to brew “summer” beers. These are generally supposed to be
more thirst-quenching than bitters and are pale enough that they usually have
“gold” or “golden” in their brand name. Such beers are brewed with only very
lightly roasted crystal malt, or even none at all—this is what makes them so pale.
Although this practice is often represented as being a new development, there
have been bitters around for years that have a pale straw or golden color. These
are probably more common in the North of England than elsewhere. I remember
my first encounter with Theakston’s Best Bitter (when it was still brewed by a
Theakston!) and how pale it appeared to me. Boddington’s was also quite pale
by bitter standards, at least in the days when it was a regional brew.
In general terms, bitters can be anything from pale gold to a deep copper-red.
The darker colors result from the use of high-roasted crystal malts or from very
small additions of chocolate or black malts. These add not only color, but also
complexity to the flavor, and they are favored by many brewers on this account.
Some cynics would say that these malts are used to hide the fact that hop rates
have been decreased and the beers are not as bitter as they should be. That is
certainly not generally the case with cask-conditioned beers, but it might well
have been practiced with certain national brands of keg bitter.
India Pale Ales
English IPAs, in the modern sense, are much harder to define, simply because
there are very few of them today. In my survey, only 3.5% have this designation,
or just 33 draught and 8 bottled beers. In terms of original gravity, they average
only 1.041 (10.2 °P) and cover a range of 1.032–1.060 (8.0–14.7 °P), with one
“flier” at 1.075 (18.2 °P). Clearly, the lower values are far away from historical
levels; they can be discounted as just being brewers’ attempts to cash in on
tradition by calling low-strength bitter something it is not.
In the first edition of Pale Ale, I quoted a range of 1.050–1.055 (12.4–13.6
°P). This was based as much on an arbitrary division as on the few extant beers
of this type, such as Worthington White Shield (which I am now inclined to class
as a pale ale, rather than an IPA, as I said previously in the chapter). I now think
that I was wrong here and that this range is far too narrow. The AHA quotes a
much wider range, 1.050–1.070 (12.4–17.1 °P).16 This is a better range for this
substyle and just barely includes Hodgson’s original version of IPA. However, the
AHA does not include an American-style IPA in its listings, although these fall
within the band for English-style IPAs. And there are a lot more examples of
American IPAs that would fit this gravity band than there are of their English
cousins!
American Substyles
Most recent books on American beers give only subjective taste comments
and offer little in the way of technical information on the beers tasted. Few
attempts have been made to draw all of this together into a single survey with
detailed listings of original gravities, bittering levels, and so on. I am aware only
of that by Steve Johnson.17 In his book, America’s Best Brews, he lists an
amazing number of beers, all of which he has tasted himself. He also gives a fair
bit of detail on individual beers. He does include ESB as a separate style, which I
do not agree with, but his information is very useful.
An analysis of the pale ale category in Johnson’s book is a good place to start
when looking at the American versions of this beer. He lists 77 beers, which
include 32 pale ales (41.6%), 12 IPAs (15.6%), 21 amber ales (27.3%), and 12
ESBs (15.6%). (There is, of course, no bitter category.) Figure 3 shows this break-
down graphically.
FIGURE 3
Occurrence of American Pale Ales
The figure indicates that American pale ale is far more common than any of
the other three and that there are slightly more ambers than IPAs or ESBs. Of
course, these are just numbers; they tell us nothing about volume consumption or
about comparative strengths. It is therefore instructive to do the same as we did
with bitters and look at the distribution of original gravities for each beer. This is
shown in figure 4.
FIGURE 4
Distribution of Original Gravities for Bitter Ales
In each case, the middle bar is the average. As you can see, there is not a great
deal of difference between pale and amber ales, while ESB is definitely higher.
However, there is a lot of overlap, with the low of ESB being lower than the
average for both pale and amber ales. IPA is definitely brewed to higher gravities
than the other beers, but all average above 1.050, significantly higher than the
average for many of the English beers.
Johnson also gives data on hop bitterness. However, it is more limited,
covering only 47 of the total 77 rated. Figure 5 shows a plot of bitterness against
beer style.
FIGURE 5
Hop Bitterness for American Pale Ales
The figure shows some surprising results. Although bitterness levels are
generally high (above 35 IBU on average), the amber ales are slightly more bitter
than the pale ales! The IPAs, as you might expect, are clearly the most bitter
beers, while those in the ESB category are significantly more bitter than the pale
and amber ales (even allowing for the one very high result that somewhat skews
the average). These results might be misleading, however, since they are based
on a small sample that might not be fully representative.
What is significant about the ESB “style” is that Johnson defines it as beer
produced in the style of a strong bitter. It does, in fact, fit exactly in the gravity
range for English strong bitter. And that is where I propose to leave it, rather
than designating it as a specific substyle. As I mentioned earlier, there is only
one beer in England that is designated ESB (Fuller’s ESB), and it does not
particularly match this ESB “style,” in my opinion. This is an arbitrary decision, I
admit. These so-called ESB types are more bitter than their English counterparts
and often are made from American ingredients, so they could be classed as a
distinct subspecies, just as American pale ale and IPA are. But, English pale ales
and IPAs are not as strongly represented as are their American cousins. Bitters are
the dominant beers in England, and putting American ESB as a separate substyle
is an unnecessary complication.
Having got that out of the way, next I discuss the separate American substyles.
American IPAs
American IPAs fit into the gravity range 1.050–1.070 (12.4–17.1 °P). Figure 4
shows a range of 1.056–1.068 (13.8–16.6 °P), with an average of 1.061 (15.0
°P). So the two sets of figures for English and American IPAs mesh nicely. But it
is the raw materials that really distinguish these beers from their English
relatives.
American pale and crystal malts are often used, but not exclusively, as some
brewers still insist on using English pale malt. But the one, most important
characteristic that distinguishes American IPAs is their uncompromising use of
American hops. In particular, American craftbrewers use hops to give their IPAs a
powerful and very distinctive aroma and character. Most notably, although by no
means exclusively, Cascades hops are used for this purpose. The flowery,
citruslike character of this hop is very different from anything that can be
achieved using high-quality English hops such as Goldings and Fuggles.
But, perhaps even more important, the American IPAs are often quite high in
hop bitterness. Bert Grant’s “original” IPA is said to have had 60 IBU. In general,
levels of 50–55 IBU are not rare, and Anderson Valley claims that its Hop Ottin
IPA has as much as 90 IBU!20 In fact, as figure 5 shows, bitterness for American
IPAs averages 58 IBU, with a range of 44–73! Note, however, that this survey of
Johnson’s numbers includes only seven samples as a basis. This is a fairly small
sample population and might not be truly representative. Nevertheless, these are
definitely bitter beers. In this, as in their original gravities, they can genuinely
lay claim to being close to the original IPAs. And remember that there is ample
evidence of Bass’s having used American hops in the nineteenth century (but
then, Cascades was not around at that time).
Bitters cover a very wide range of color, so defining a substyle on the basis of
color is something of a risky venture. Yet there are many “amber” beers that fit
the pale ale/bitter character in this country and that cannot be classified as either
American pale ale or IPA.22 They can be separated from English bitters, since
many of them are bottled, although quite a few are draught beers. All, however,
are more highly carbonated and served much colder than is the English norm.
They are also largely produced from American ingredients, both malt and hops.
However, it is not uncommon to use an English yeast, so such beers are often
fruitier than American pale ales. Also, in most cases they are filtered and
certainly not cask-conditioned.
Perhaps the most obvious defining characteristic of American amber ale
should be its color. The AHA style guideline quotes 11–18 °SRM23—this puts such
beers well within the normal range for bitter. Yet at least one amber is as high as
33 °SRM.24 I would support this color level as also being appropriate to the amber
style.
As for original gravity, figure 4 shows a range of 1.046–1.060 (11.4–14.7 °P),
with an average of 1.053 (13.1 °P). The AHA guideline is 1.044–1.056 (11.0–13.8
°P). Thus, the two sets of figures agree fairly well, except at the top of the range.
I have no argument against the AHA guideline, but it does specify a fairly narrow
range. In fact, this makes a fairly interesting point. American micros tend not to
brew low-gravity beers (just look at figure 4), while much of the output of
English brewers is at original gravities below 1.040 (10.0 °P). This difference
comes from cultural variations between American and English drinkers. The
English pub, despite quite a few changes in recent years, is still a social center—
a place for an evening’s drinking, not eating. As a result, many drinkers, who
still insist on drinking by the full English pint, do not want anything too strong.
Rather, they want a “session” beer, one they can drink several pints of during the
course of an evening, without falling over. In contrast, American “pubs,” and
especially brewpubs, are primarily restaurants. The American pubgoer is
interested in drinking a moderate amount of a beer that has a higher quality and
strength. Although this is a sweeping generalization, there is a good deal of truth
in it. However, I must point out that there are many English session bitters that
do have a surprising amount of character and flavor.
FIGURE 6
The Pale Ale Family
Summary and Profiles of Pale Ales
Now we need to collate all of this information and to define these substyles in
terms of original gravity, bitterness, color, post-fermentation treatment, method
of dispense (bottle, keg, or cask), and temperature of serving. Figure 6 is an
attempt to show the relation between the members of the pale ale style.
In tables 1, 2, and 3, I show the profiles for the members of the pale ale style.
For more information on beer styles, other than those sources already quoted,
refer to Designing Great Beers by Ray Daniels and The Essentials of Beer Style
by Fred Eckhardt listed in the notes—both are excellent books.25 However, most
of the information in the tables is from my own experience and knowledge—and
sometimes it is pure opinion!
TABLE 1
Bitter Profiles
Filtration No No No
TABLE 2
English Pale Ale and IPA Profiles
pH 3.9–4.2 3.8–4.2
Reducing sugars (%) 1.0–2.0 1.0–2.5
1Finishing gravity for IPAs might be lower if the ale is matured longer than is customary in England.
2Longer-matured beers will also be higher in alcohol than this range.
3If the ale is stored as original in wood for long periods, acidity is likely to be higher.
4Calculated from IBU, this assumes 25% extraction of alpha acid.
5Esters are for bitters but can be higher for IPAs.
6Diacetyl flavor is acceptable but not common.
7Normal range is 20–80 °SRM; these beers should be paler than bitters.
8American hops may be used, as Burton brewers did in the nineteenth century, but not Cascades!
9Filtration is usually used only for beers that are not naturally conditioned.
TABLE 3
American Amber, Pale Ales, and IPA Profiles
1Finishing gravity might be lower, depending on the length and method of maturation.
2Pale ale in particular should be low in acidity.
3My numbers for IBU differ from those of the AHA, which gives 20–40 for American pale ale. I think 20 is
far too low for a beer that clearly should be bitter!
4Calculated from IBU, this assumes 25% extraction of alpha acid.
5This is a wider range for amber than that given by AHA to include current commercial samples. Pale ale is
normally the palest of all these beers.
6Esters should be very low for pale ale, with little perceived, although traces are acceptable.
7Diacetyl should not normally be perceived, although traces are acceptable.
8Amber needs dark crystal malts, in the range of 80–150 °SRM.
9Pale ale and IPA should use malts in the range of 20–60 °SRM.
10This can be cask conditioned or served unfiltered from a cellar tank.
Some important aspects are not included in the tables. One is the yeast used.
All of these beers are produced by top-fermenting ale yeasts, fermenting at
“warm” temperatures (60–70 °F, 15–21 °C); I discuss the use of yeasts in pale
ale in more depth in chapter 3.
Another is the serving temperature. The traditional and desirable range is the
typical “cellar” temperature in England, 52–55 °F (11–13 °C). However, there
has been a tendency to decrease these temperatures somewhat, even in England,
through techniques such as the use of in-line coolers. And in America, beer
drinkers do tend to drink beer significantly colder than this. I know all of the
arguments about America’s having a warmer climate than England’s, and there is
some validity in them. In the U.S. Northeast during summer, beer at close to
ambient temperatures would be quite undrinkable. But, then why do we drink it
at these same cold temperatures in the winter when the temperature is below
freezing?
Beers of this type at temperatures much below 50 °F (10 °C) lose a great deal
of their flavor and complexity. If this is coupled with high carbon dioxide levels,
the result is quite bland. This is because these two conditions kill off the fruity
character and the hop aroma and character. They even kill off the hop bitterness
on the palate, and above all, these are beers that should taste bitter! Any brewer
—big, small, professional, or amateur—who attempts to dumb down this aspect
of pale ale character has totally missed the point, and we would all be better off
if the brewer turned to some other occupation!
An old coaching inn, the White Hart in Overton, Hampshire, still functions as an inn, although the main
roads no longer pass through the village and the beer is not as good as it used to be.
CHAPTER 3
Brewing Pale Ales
There are no secrets to brewing quality pale ales. The techniques used in
brewing this beer are basic, and they are not dealt with directly in this chapter.
Rather, I take the approach that the selection of ingredients—malt, hops, yeast,
and water—is the most important decision that the pale ale brewer makes.
Therefore, I discuss these ingredients in the light of both traditional and modern
practices of pale ale production, as well as offer some ideas for experimentation.
It is not possible here to go into great detail, but where necessary some
comments on the chemistry of the brewing process are addressed. Chapter 3
discusses the range of malts and their suitability in pale ale brewing. It also
includes a look at available hop varieties, as well as the different forms of hop
products available, and indicates how they should be used. Yeast selection, along
with fermentation conditions and equipment, is also covered. Finally, I deal with
the question of water treatment, discussing its importance to the brewing of
quality pale ales and attempting to give a simple approach to the adjustment of
mineral content of brewing water.
Brewing Techniques
The traditional basic brewing procedure for pale ales was very simple and was
in place before pale ale emerged as a style. It started with two-rowed pale malt,
mashed by a single-temperature infusion process. The collected wort was boiled
with the bittering hops, perhaps with aroma hops added towards the end of the
boil. Top-fermenting yeast was used in open fermenters, at “warm”
temperatures. The green beer then was racked into wooden casks, along with an
additional few extra hops and perhaps finings. After several months of cool
conditioning, the beer was ready to drink.
Two or three hundred years ago, this process could be very much hit or miss.
Mash temperatures were very approximate, determined by whether the brewer
could see his reflection in the hot liquor before striking the grain. Wort cooling
was carried out by holding the hopped wort in long, shallow, wooden vessels,
which were often situated in the roof area of the brew house, exposing the beer
to bird droppings and insects as well as bacteria. Fermentation temperatures
were not controlled and depended on ambient conditions—this is why brewing
was normally not carried out in the summer. Other aspects of the process, such
as yeast handling, were also very careless by modern standards.
For many modern English brewers, these procedures have hardly changed,
although the introduction of instrumentation and a vastly improved
understanding of the whole brewing process has led to much better control of
each stage. Other brewers have incorporated nontraditional techniques, such as
whirlpool separation of the trub, closed fermentation vessels, filtration, cold
storage, pasteurization, forced carbonation, and carbon dioxide or even mixed-
gas dispense. I am assuming that you already have a knowledge of basic brewing
techniques, so I do not go through any of these in detail here (except for
dispensing techniques, which are discussed in the next chapter). However, when
I discuss ingredients I do make some comments about these processes as they
apply to pale ale brewing. As a guide, figure 7 is a schematic flowchart of the
various processes.
FIGURE 7
Brewing Unit Processes
As complicated as this chart may seem, it does not include several steps that
might be taken by modern brewers. For example, not shown is that cask- and
bottle-conditioned beers are often primed with sugar at racking. Sugar, an
adjunct popular with many English brewers, is added directly to the wort kettle.
Also not shown is that cask- and bottle-conditioned beers can be kraeusened
(primed with a portion of fermenting wort), although this is not a common
practice.
Further, when producing bottle-conditioned beers, many brewers filter the
green beer and then redose it with yeast at bottling. This gives them good control
over the yeast count in the bottle and permits the use of a different yeast than
that used in the fermentation. The brewer might, for example, want a strain with
good sedimentation characteristics in the bottle and a powdery, nonflocculent
strain in the fermenter in order to achieve good attenuation.
Also not pictured in the chart are techniques of pasteurization. These are
beyond the scope of this book and not appropriate to the homebrewer. However,
craftbrewers with far-reaching distribution lines might sometimes consider it
necessary. Personally, I do not recommend it because it can easily spoil the
flavor of the beer, regardless of what it might do for stability. A better technique
for the craftbrewer worried about beer degradation in distribution is sterile
membrane filtration. Filtration is commonly practiced in commercial bright beer
production but is a technique also available to the homebrewer.1 Note that
filtration of any kind will likely have a deleterious effect on big, highly hopped
beers because it removes both some hop flavor and some bitterness and
adversely affects foam formation. Despite the difficulties involved, these beers
are undoubtedly at their best when served in the draught, cask-conditioned form.
Malt
Malt is the main source of fermentables in a beer. The bulk of these
fermentables, whether you are using extract or grain, comes from pale malt. This
base malt also provides other important elements such as foam-forming protein
products, dextrins that help give the beer body, and nitrogenous and mineral
compounds that yeast needs to give a healthy fermentation. More highly roasted
malts, such as crystal and caramel malts, add color, flavor, and body to the
finished beer.
In this section, I discuss the various malts and their suitability in pale ale
brewing. This includes not only those malts that traditionally have been used to
produce pale ale, but also deals with the possibility of using non-traditional
malts, such as Munich and brown malt. I also make some comments as to how
malts should be used, dealing with malt extract separately and with mashing
techniques for pale malts, as well as with when and where to add roasted malts.
Malt Extracts
The dominant flavor aspects of pale ales are hop character and flavor, so pale
ales are well suited to brewing with malt extracts. You can obtain a variety of
extract-based kits to cover the whole range of these beers—from ordinary bitter
to IPA. This is the simplest approach to brewing. Unfortunately, it often leaves a
lot to be desired. Some of these kits are not as informative as they might be. For
example, one of the more comprehensive kit guides does not mention any
requirement for the addition of sugar!2 And then, too, many kits recommend that
ridiculously large amounts of sugar be used. They also might offer brewing
instructions that if followed will not give a quality beer, to say the least. Further,
the literature is not much help because it includes little guidance on kits,
although the various brewing magazines do occasionally review individual kits.
What is worse for the pale ale style is that kit beers are almost invariably
underhopped, lacking in both bitterness and hop character. Perhaps the biggest
disadvantage of kits and hopped extracts, though, is that manufacturers do not
offer information on bittering levels. Thus, you have no idea what you are going
to get until you have actually brewed the beer.
Not all kits are bad. The better ones offer an excellent introduction to the art
and craft of brewing. But such kits do almost everything for you, leaving no
room for creativity on your part. I have no doubt that you will find that a much
more interesting and enjoyable result can be obtained with plain, unhopped
extracts, with you adding your own bittering and aroma hops. The best results, I
believe, will be obtained with those kits and recipes that do not require added
sugar, but which use only malt. I strongly believe that any kit or recipe that
requires the use of sugar will give better results if you use the same weight of
dry malt extract in place of the sugar.
Types of malt extracts. All malt extracts are not equal, as some manufacturers
include significant amounts of corn or invert sugar syrup along with the malt.
Malt extracts often suffer from low levels of free amino nitrogen (FAN) in the
wort—this is a common cause of stuck or incomplete fermentation.3 Using sugar
in place of malt only exacerbates this problem and can lead to the production of
some strange flavors. I deal with this issue later in this chapter in the section
under sugars. The point is that you should be careful in your choice of extract
and be prepared to experiment until you find which brands suit your taste.
You should go with extracts designed for pale ale, bitter, or amber ale
brewing. I think it is best to use plain extracts—this will give you the greatest
amount of room to express your own creativity. In any case, the hopped versions
are often inadequately hopped for this style, so you will have to add hops
anyway. Although there is little public information available on manufacturing
methods, most manufacturers seem to use a combination of hop extracts and hop
oils rather than pellet or flower hops.4 However, in general, I find that hopping
with extracts and oils does not give the clean bitterness and spicy, flowery,
aromatic flavors and aromas that can be achieved with pellets and flowers. (See
the section on hops later in this chapter.)
I cannot recommend individual extracts, since there are so many of them.
Essentially all are produced by a similar process of evaporation. What is being
concentrated is a brewing wort. The exact composition of that wort can, like any
wort, vary greatly according to the ingredients and formulation used. Thus, the
extracts produced come in a wide variety and are usually regarded as proprietary
products by the producers. For further useful advice on malt extract selection,
refer to the suggested reading list in appendix B.
Using malt extract. Liquid extracts should give a gravity yield of around
1.036 (9.0 °P) for 1 pound made to 1 gallon with water, while dry extracts
should yield about 1.045 (11.2 °P) under the same conditions. Nitrogen levels for
liquid extracts should be about 0.07% or more, while dry extracts should give at
least 0.1% nitrogen. Extracts quoting high-gravity yields coupled with low
nitrogen are a sure sign of dilution with sugar of some sort. They should be
avoided.
Although hoppiness in all of its aspects is the primary flavor component of
such beers, you still want some malt character as well so that the beer’s flavor is
not completely one-dimensional. Even with high-quality extracts, you will find it
necessary to add extra body and flavor by including crystal and/or roasted malts
(see later sections on this in this chapter).
It might also be advantageous to use the partial mash approach. This
approach involves adding a pound or two of pale malt, mashing it at ±150 °F
(65.6 °C), collecting the wort, adding the extract, and then boiling in the usual
way. Partial mashing not only adds a little extra flavor, it also helps to ensure
adequate levels of FAN in the wort.
Another point about extract brewing is that it is common practice for the boil
volume to be much smaller than the final brew volume. Typically, for 5 gallons
of finished beer, only 2–3 gallons are used in the boil. This means that the
specific gravity of the wort boiled is much higher than that of the wort at
fermentation. There is nothing wrong in doing this. However, extraction of the
bittering principles of the hops is less efficient at high gravities than at low
gravities. In other words, for the same bittering levels you will need more hops
for such a concentrated boil than you would need using all-grain mashing
procedures. I deal with that in the hops section later in this chapter.
Over-boiling of malt extract can also be a problem, depending on the method
of manufacture. If it has been taken to a full-length boil and the formation of hot
break, before being concentrated, further boiling might result in low
protein/peptide levels in the wort. The result is a thin beer that lacks both body
and head retention. It is best to keep the boil to around 45 minutes, up to 60
minutes at a maximum, to avoid this, rather than boil for the more normal 90
minutes used for a full-mash wort. One manufacturer recommends as little as 20
minutes of boiling for a pale beer.5 These relatively short boil times result in
decreased rates of hop usage, so the amount of hops used have to be increased to
achieve the desired level of bitterness. Putting the two factors of a short and a
concentrated boil together, you might have to use as much as 50 to 100% more
bittering hops than would be needed for a similar original gravity beer brewed
only from grain malt.
Color is often a problem with liquid malt extracts. When liquid malt extract is
stored for a long time, darkening reactions can occur. This can make it very
difficult to achieve the right hue for the paler types of pale ales, such as the
“golden bitters.” It might also cause the production of unwanted oxidized
flavors. So you should try to buy from a supplier that has a good turnover of
stock.
Dry extracts are a better bet because they do not undergo such reactions. If
you want a darker color, you can best achieve this by adding crystal or roasted
malts, which will also enhance the flavor through the introduction of nutty,
caramel nuances.
Do not be discouraged from using malt extracts in the brewing of pale ales. A
good many extract beers of this style have won prizes in competitions.6 True,
you will find it easier to obtain a balanced wort and reproducible fermentations
when working with all-grain malt recipes than with extract-based formulations.
But the main flavor aspects of pale ales come from the hops and from the fruity
flavors delivered by the yeast. With good-quality extract, careful use of hops,
and a choice yeast, there is no reason why you cannot brew an excellent pale ale,
based on extract alone.
There is a strong argument that you will always get better results from all-
grain brewing than you will from extract brewing. But using grain malt does not
guarantee success. It is impossible to brew good beer from bad-quality
ingredients, no matter how good your techniques are. But using quality
ingredients might not be enough, either, if your techniques are poor. Any expert
brewer worth his salt should be able to make a good pale ale or bitter from
extract.
Pale Malt
Pale malt is the foundation stone for pale ale brewing, whether you are
mashing or using an extract. For the paler, golden brews, it might be the only
source of color and fermentables. So you should use pale malt of the highest
quality, that designed for brewing just this type of beer. In the first edition of
Pale Ale, I stated that this highest-quality malt was British malt, which I referred
to only in generic terms. Now, all that has changed. Today, a variety of pale
malts are available to both the homebrewer and craftbrewer.
Types of pale malt. There are two basic divisions of pale malt, named after the
nature of the barley from which they are produced:
• six-rowed pale malt
• two-rowed pale malt
Six-rowed pale malt is the major malt for the brewing of American factory
beers. This is primarily because it is high both in nitrogen and in enzymes,
thereby making it ideal for brewing beers that have a high level of adjuncts, as is
typical of American mainstream pale lagers. It can be used in pale ale brewing
and can even give a halfway decent beer (provided hops and yeast are carefully
chosen). Six-rowed pale malt also gives slightly lower extract yield than two-
rowed malt. Further, it can give chill haze problems unless extra processing steps
are taken, such as enzyme addition, silica-gel treatment, or polyvinylpyrrolidone
treatment. Most brewers also consider that six-rowed malt gives a beer of
inferior flavor compared to one produced from two-rowed malt. Unless you want
to make a high-adjunct beer, you should work only with two-rowed pale malt.
Since I strongly recommend that you work on a malt-only basis if you wish to
brew top-quality pale ales (see the adjuncts section later in this chapter), two-
rowed pale malt is the only way to go.
Six-rowed pale malts are designed for high-adjunct lager production. Thus,
they are fairly lightly malted and kilned so as to keep a high level of enzymes
and a very low color (1–2 °SRM). Such malts are also high in nitrogen (11–12%
as total protein). They are sometimes referred to as undermodified, which means
that the malting process has not gone as far to completion as is usually the case
with ale malts. A consequence of this is that such malts require multistep
mashing, with rests at two or more different temperatures. In particular, they
need a protein rest in order to reduce in the beer the levels of high molecular
weight protein degradation products, which are major causes of chill haze
problems. This protein rest is usually at 120–130 °F (49–54 °C). It may be
followed by rests at various temperatures before the final saccharification rest at
±150 °F (65.6 °C).
In general, two-rowed pale malts are more completely germinated during
malting and are kilned at slightly higher temperatures than six-rowed malts.
Two-rowed malts usually are higher in color (2–3 °SRM), lower in nitrogen (9–
10% as total protein), and lower in enzymes. They are often called highly
modified malts, meaning that a protein degradation step is not necessary in
mashing. A one-temperature saccharification rest is all that is required to convert
starch to fermentable sugars. Although low in enzyme content, modern two-
rowed pale malts are actually high enough in enzyme content to convert up to
about 20% starch adjuncts, as well as their own starch content. Properly handled,
they will give 1–2% more extract than six-rowed malts, although this small
difference will rarely be important to either homebrewers or craftbrewers, either
in terms of cost or efficiency.
More important, two-rowed malts give good results with the classic single-
temperature infusion mash at ±150 °F (65.6 °C). I say plus or minus (±) because
the exact temperature depends very much on what you want to achieve. You
might wish to go a degree or two lower to ensure good fermentability and high
attenuation, a feature of the early Burton IPAs. Or, you might wish to go as much
as five degrees higher in order to give the beer more body. This could be
particularly desirable in, say, a golden or American pale ale with no added
crystal malt. The variety of pale ales now on the market in Britain and America
encompasses a range of fermentabilities and permits you to choose the same.
It can be argued that a single-temperature infusion mash is not optimum for
two-rowed pale malts. A 30-minute rest at 104 °F (40 °C) before proceeding to
saccharification temperatures has been recommended as improving mash yields
by as much as 15%.7 I have used such a rest myself for some years because I
found that it did improve my own extract yield. Of course, for the homebrewer
this might not be important in the same financial sense that it is to a major
factory brewer. However, I have found that this approach not only improves the
yield, but also makes it much more reproducible. This makes it possible to hit
target gravities just about every time—even with entirely new recipes—which
makes the whole job of recipe formulation much simpler.
In An Analysis of Brewing Techniques, George and Laurie Fix recommend
running a three-step mash at 104/140/ 158 °F (40/60/70 °C).8 My standard
approach is just two steps for beers in the pale ale style: 104/155 °F (40/68 °C).
Note that for these highly modified two-rowed malts, a protein rest at 115–130
°F (46–54 °C) should be avoided, as it will adversely affect both foam and malt
flavor.
The single-temperature approach has the great benefits of being easy to
operate and requiring relatively simple equipment. The homebrewer armed only
with a spoon and a pot on a stove will find it a lot easier to run at only one
temperature, than to go through several rests, for what might be only a small
advantage in yield and flavor. And the craftbrewer might have no choice. Cost
considerations often dictate that a mash tun be installed with no heating facility,
and of course a lauter tun will not be needed with this technique. Many
American craftbrewers as well as English traditional brewers have stayed with
single-temperature infusion and still produce some very good bitters and pale
ales. A further point is that these highly modified malts are easier to grind and
crush. They also are much less likely to cause the dreaded “stuck mash,” where
wort cannot filter through the grain bed.
In the first version of Pale Ale, I simply recommended the use of British pale
malt, but to do the same here would trivialize the current situation, both for
homebrewers and craftbrewers. Now we have a whole variety of pale malts
available from both England and America. These include, in addition to the more
standard pneumatic malts, blended malts from several barleys and malts from
single barleys, such as Maris Otter, Halcyon, and Klages. Also included are
American malts specifically designed for pale ale brewing and even traditional
English floor-malted products. It is impossible here to consider each in detail, so
table 4 features some representational analyses for the various products offered.
Malt Analysis
It would pay the craftbrewer (and probably the homebrewer!) to carefully read
the malt analysis of every batch received. This is especially true if you are
changing malts or if you want to create special effects. In the recent past,
maltsters generally produced their products to the specifications of the bigger
brewers, but that is no longer the case. Many of them now make malts targeted
to the craftbrewer (and therefore suitable for the homebrewer). You should select
your malt on the basis of what you want to do and on the limitations of your
equipment. A good look at malt specifications and analyses can save you a lot of
effort and time and help you avoid costly errors. Of course, reading these is not
always easy because the units of measurement are not completely standardized.
For example, English malts might quote analyses according to EBU rather than
the American Society of Brewing Chemists (ASBC) standards. Brewer and author
Greg Noonan has written two helpful articles on this (see appendix B).
TABLE 4
Typical Analyses of Pale Malts
Caramel malt. Caramel malt is produced from fully modified green malt that
is taken before kilning so that it still contains a considerable amount of moisture.
It is then stewed at temperatures of up to 160 °F (71 °C) in a closed vessel so
that virtually no moisture escapes. Under these conditions, which are like those
of mashing, the malt starch is broken down into sugars. A certain amount of
caramelization and coloring occurs (through Maillard browning reactions) as this
mixture is further heated, up to as high as 240 °F (116 °C) for the darker grades.
Many years ago, when I started brewing, it was possible to obtain only one
grade of caramel malt, very dark in color. Now it is possible, even for the
amateur, to obtain a whole range of such malts, varying in color 10–150 °SRM
and with a corresponding increasing intensity of flavor. While many of these do
come from Britain, there is also a wide range manufactured in America. The
latter include the so-called carastan or dextrin malts, which are very low in color
(2–3 °SRM) and designed to give a beer body and mouthfeel, with little effect on
color. The latter are really meant for lager brewing and are probably not
appropriate for bitters and amber ales, in which the brewer is looking for the
extra flavor provided by a crystal malt. However, they might be worth looking at
for very pale or golden pale ale types.
Also in this category and available even to homebrewers are the Belgian
CaraVienne, CaraMunich, and Special B malts. These range from 15 to 250 °SRM
and have a distinctive biscuity flavor. Again, they are not really intended for use
in pale ale brewing. In fact, many brewers might regard them as not suitable,
certainly not for a pale ale or IPA. I have tried them in small amounts (2–3 % of
the grist only) in some of my lower-gravity bitter ales and have found that they
did add an extra dimension of complexity to what can otherwise be a rather thin
beer.
Crystal malts. Crystal malts are used at rates of up to 10% of the total grist (or
about 0.5 pound in 5 U.S. gallons) for a 1.048 (12 °P) pale ale. However, 5% is
probably the maximum amount of the darkest grades. Otherwise, the beer’s
flavor will be too coarse for this style. Crystal malts are generally added to the
mash in all-grain brewing, although they contain no enzymes. All of the sugars
and flavors are fully water-soluble and can be extracted by a simple steeping
procedure, so these malts are quite suitable for extract brewing. In general, these
yield slightly lower amounts of extract than pale malts. They also can be
somewhat variable in their yield. However, since only a small amount is used,
this variation should have little effect on the final gravity of the beer.
An important contribution of crystal malt to pale ale is color. Crystal malt
adds a reddish hue, depending upon the degree of roasting and on the amount
added to the mash. However, if you are looking at crystal malt solely for its color
effect, and desire reproducible results, choosing the type and amount of crystal
malt is not a simple matter. Beer color depends on a number of factors other than
that contributed directly by the malt bill. The only real way to determine the
color is by measurement, for which there are relatively simple methods
available, as described by Ray Daniels in Designing Great Beers.10 However,
you can make approximate calculations as to the color to be expected from a
given malt bill. Simply multiply the weight of each malt by its color rating, add
the products, and divide by the volume in gallons. While only an approximation,
this easy calculation does enable you to predict how different recipes with very
similar processing steps might compare.
TABLE 5
Typical Analyses for Crystal Malts
Other Malts
There is some, although fairly limited, leeway for using malts other than pale
and crystal in this type of beer. Many English brewers do use them, however,
although you must remember that they are making relatively low-gravity beers,
where some tinkering with the grain bill can add to the beer’s malt character.
Other malts available include wheat, Munich, roasted, and brown.
Wheat malt. Foremost among these other available malts is wheat malt. This
malt is added primarily for its head retention characteristics. Added at the rate of
around 5% of the total grain bill, it helps in head retention for a beer at an
original gravity of under 1.040 (10.0 °P). A beer with this original gravity is
served at low carbonation levels, especially if other adjuncts are used.
Wheat malt at 1.5–3.0 °SRM has a similar effect on color as pale malt. It gives
a slightly higher yield—82–85%, 1.036–1.039 (9.0–9.8 °P)/pound/U.S. gallon. It
further has sufficient enzymes for full starch conversion that, when the malt is
used in this sort of proportion, will not hinder wort run-off. I formerly used it in
all of my pale ales. I have since concluded that it is not really necessary, with all-
malt beers brewed at gravities above 1.045 (11.2 °P). The malt extract brewer
might well consider it, but only if he uses the partial mash technique. This is
because it must be mashed and cannot be added in a steep with crystal malt.
Roasted malt. A number of British brewers go to the other extreme and use
roasted malts such as chocolate or black malt. These should be used in very
small amounts, say 1–2% of the grist, or about 1 ounce in a 5-gallon brew. I
recommend doing this only for lower-gravity beers, where just a hint of roast
character adds a little extra complexity to the beer.
Sugar
Sugar comes in various forms, as described by Jeff Frane in his Zymurgy
article, “How Sweet It Is: Brewing with Sugar.”13 Traditionally, British brewers
used either cane sugar, which is a disaccharide and virtually 100% sucrose, or
invert sugar, which is a 1:1 mixture of the monosaccharides fructose and
dextrose. Invert generally is produced from various forms of sucrose. In
America, the use of sugars of this type has been relatively rare, although corn
sugar, which is also virtually 100% dextrose, has been used extensively in
homebrewing.
Sucrose is not directly fermentable by yeast. Rather, it is rapidly hydrolyzed to
fermentable monosaccharides by yeast enzymes. This happens especially when it
is used at the rate of only 10–15% of the grist. At this level, it will not yield a
cidery flavor. This happens only when so much sugar is used that there is
insufficient FAN to act as a yeast nutrient. Sucrose gives an extract of 1.046 (11.4
°P)/pound/U.S. gallon, while invert and corn sugar will give around 1.036 (9.0
°P)/pound/U.S. gallon, because both contain around 20% moisture. All of this
extract is fully fermentable by yeast. This permits you to go to high attenuation
of the beer, which is one way to achieve the low finishing gravities obtained in
some of the early IPAs.
Note that there is nothing wrong with using sugar for priming, where you are
looking for something readily fermentable that will not alter beer flavor.
Selecting Hops
Hops are the heart and soul of any pale ale. A definite hop bitterness is
essential to the pale ale style in all of its forms. Hop flavor and character are by
no means present in every example of the style. Further, there seems to be a
trend to reduce these in English brewing, especially by the larger brewers. But
when dealing with high levels of bitterness, it is easy to make a very one-
dimensional beer, especially if it is brewed at a gravity below 1.040 (10.0 °P).
Hop aroma and flavor give these beers greater complexity and interest—the
better examples of the style usually have these attributes. Indeed, by definition,
they should be present in American pale ales and IPAs.
If the hop is so important in pale ale brewing, how do you decide which is
best suited for it? First, you select the variety you want for bitterness. That
should be easy, shouldn’t it, since you know that alpha acid is the determining
factor in bitterness. So all you need is the hop with the highest level of alpha
acid, right?
Not quite. The first point is that hops have a quality of bitterness—some hops
give a harsher, less clean bitter flavor than others, even when bittering levels are
identical. Second, there is some indication that the choice of bittering hops also
affects hop flavor and aroma, even though these characteristics come from the
hop essential oils.14 In theory, these oils should be lost during the boil, since
bittering hops are added as boiling commences. But the chemistry of hop oils is
complicated. It is possible that some volatile constituents could be converted into
other compounds that might remain in the beer and affect its flavor.
A view of the exterior of the Cheriton brew house in Hampshire. A simple but functional building where they
turn out some of the hoppiest bitters you can find.
TABLE 6
Hop Varieties in Pale Ale Brewing
1Also grown in America, but the English version is more aromatic and cleaner bittering.
2Also grown in British Columbia, but those are inferior to those grown in East Kent. For British brewers,
this is the pale ale hop.
3Whitbread Goldings Variety; actually closely related to Fuggles.
4Related to Fuggles.
5German Hallertauer derivatives.
6Originally an English hop, now grown in both Germany and America. Popular with American brewers;
regarded as somewhat coarse in England.
Here, I simply review some of the more commonly available varieties, with
some typical analyses. I also offer recommendations regarding for which beer
they are most suited. All of this information is summarized in table 6.
This review is somewhat subjective, representing only my opinion and
practice. And it is by no means an exclusive list, for there are other good hops
out there. There appears to be a trend in brewing circles to do something
different, since “everybody does pale ale.” But even the most dedicated brewer
should never finish experimenting with pale ale. Hop flavors form such a large
part of these beers, and there are so many different hops with so many different
bittering and aroma characteristics.
You can, of course, use several different hop varieties in a single brew, and
that is common commercial and amateur practice. It permits the use of high
alpha acid hops for bittering and low alpha acid aroma hops for late hopping.
Commercially, this makes sense, as it is the most economical use of the more
expensive aroma hops. The savings are not significant to the homebrewer,
however, and even the craftbrewer must balance such savings against the need to
produce a beer of character and complexity.
My own approach for this type of beer is generally to use the low alpha acid
aroma types for both bittering and aroma. Even the high alpha acid ones listed in
table 6, such as Chinook, Centennial, and Northern Brewer, are considered by
some brewers to give a somewhat unpleasant hop flavor. Others, such as
Challenger, are high in alpha acid, yet they can also make a good aroma hop.
Much of this choice is a matter of taste; for instance, I have one acquaintance
who just cannot stand any beer brewed with Cascades.
One other interesting trend has developed in craftbrewing in America: the use
of a single hop variety for all aspects of hop flavor. It started in English
commercial brewing; even one of the big brewers, Whitbread, has come out with
its Fuggles Imperial IPA that has even made its way to America.19 I recommend
this approach for all brewers, particularly those that want to learn to distinguish
between different varieties. I have done it for many years with my own pale ales
and IPAs, initially by way of experimentation, but I have stuck to it because I like
the results.
My own choice for English bitters, and especially IPAs, is still the traditional
Goldings and Fuggles. Both give a beautiful smooth bitterness and a definite
citrus and delicate flowery character to these beers. In recent years, it seems that
some of my best beers are those brewed with Fuggles. I have also had delightful
results with Whitbread Goldings variety, which is why I included it in table 6,
even though it is quite difficult to find in America. And I do like Cascades for
my American-style pale ales, even though it can be somewhat overpowering!
Using Hops
But just choosing a hop variety is not enough. You also must decide what
form you are going to use.
The main choice of form is between flowers and pellets; however, hop
extracts and oils can also be used. For craftbrewers, the choice might be dictated
by equipment concerns. If you have a hop back, you will probably want to stick
with flowers. (I discuss the hop back further later in this chapter.) If you have a
whirlpool for trub separation after the boil, pellets are the way to go.
Hop flowers. Good, fresh hop flowers, properly packed and stored, are hard to
beat. They also are hard to handle, especially for the homebrewer. The resin
glands are not uniformly distributed throughout the hops, and it is virtually
impossible to sample them representatively when taking only an ounce or two at
a time. Nor are they always stored properly by suppliers or by homebrewers.
They tend to deteriorate more quickly than pellets, so their actual alpha acid
content might be quite different from that stated on the label. This means, of
course, that it is difficult to reach targeted bittering levels. So you need to be sure
that your supplier is knowledgeable. If you have doubts about how he handles
flowers, then either change your supplier or go with pellets.
Hop pellets. I think that the aroma from late hopping with pellets is as good as
you can get with flowers (provided the latter are at their best). Pellets, in general,
are easier to store and to handle. The argument against pellets is that they might
have lost some of the hop oil in the compression process, and this argument does
have some merit. However, hop pellets are somewhat more stable than flowers
because they can be easily packaged securely. Also, they have greater
uniformity, thereby allowing them to give more reproducible results in bittering.
They further give better utilization of alpha acids, since the resin glands are
ruptured during processing.
The most commonly available form is the Type 90 hop pellet. This is
essentially whole flowers in pellet form. You can also get Type 45, which has
much of the nonessential material removed and is consequently much higher in
alpha acid. Also, a pre-isomerized pellet form is on the market, although not for
homebrewers, as far as I am aware. I have not experimented with these, so I
cannot say much about them.
Hop extracts. Hop extracts are also available. Mark Garetz, in his book Using
Hops, considers that carbon dioxide extracts are the best.20 Pre-isomerized
extracts can also be found and are useful for adjusting bitterness post-
fermentation. The general opinion is that they do not provide bitterness of the
same quality as hops added at the start of the boil. Factory brewers like them, but
it has been suggested that they are not worthwhile for home- and craftbrewers.21
Hop oils. Finally, you also can obtain hop oil and even late hop essence. Both
can be added to the beer at kegging, in place of dry hopping. These are made
from only a few varieties. I have done a little experimentation with them but so
far have not been impressed with the results.
where U and a are the same as above, but O is the weight of hops in ounces, and
V is the final beer volume in U.S. gallons.
This equation can easily be transposed to solve for the weight of hops of a
given alpha acid content in order to achieve a given IBU in the beer. Although
some consider this an “inaccurate” equation, it most definitely is not, for it is
only the expression of the definition of IBU (yet there is more to bitterness than
just IBU and alpha acid). The catch is that the data you put in is often inaccurate.
You depend on the supplier’s information for alpha acid values, and the value of
the actual sample used differs from this, depending on storage and uniformity of
sampling. And you do not know an accurate value for utilization unless you have
determined it directly through an analysis of the beer.
Utilization depends on a whole range of factors. These include when the hops
are added during the boil, the specific gravity of both the boil and the finished
wort, fermentation temperatures, and so on. It is possible to make adjustments
for these if you wish (see Mark Garetz’s Using Hops and Michael Hall’s “IBU” in
appendix B). The calculations are fairly complicated, particularly if you are
using different varieties that are added at different times during the boil.
I consider this equation useful because it serves as an approximation in
reaching a desired bittering level. It also is useful for comparing different beers
and for converting from one hop variety to another. The added level of
calculation referred to previously might simply compound errors, since you still
have to guess at alpha acid levels, as well as at losses with the trub and during
fermentation. I simply make the assumption that the homebrewer will achieve
25% utilization, while the craftbrewer should expect approximately 30%. I also
assume that all of the bittering hops are added at the beginning of the boil.
Further, I ignore the contribution of aroma hops to bittering and that the boil is at
least the full wort volume. Extract brewers boiling only a partial amount of the
finished volume might want to allow for this, as described in the above
references. Otherwise, I believe the only real alternative to using this equation is
analysis of the finished beer.
There is an even simpler approach: using alpha acid units (AAUs), sometimes
called hop bitterness units (HBUs). An AAU or HBU is simply the weight of hops in
ounces multiplied by their percentage alpha acid. If you brew to the same
finished volume each time, AAU or HBU can be useful for converting from one
variety to another and for comparing different bittering rates; however, it has no
absolute value. It can be misleading when brew volumes change. It might be
better used in the form of volume alpha acid units (VAAUs), the weight of hops
multiplied by alpha acid percentage divided by beer volume in U.S. gallons.
Like all of these calculations, it can really be meaningful only if the alpha acid
value you use is accurate.
Types of Yeast
First, let me be clear: fermentation does not take place on the surface of the
beer. It is the yeast suspended in the beer that does the work. It is only after the
major part of the fermentation is over that the yeast begins to separate from
suspension. When it does so, either it rises to the surface or it sediments. This is
where the traditional nomenclature of top-fermenting and bottom-fermenting
derives.
But modern commercial brewers often use closed, conical fermenters, in
which every type of yeast settles at the bottom. And indeed, quite a few strains
of “top-fermenting yeasts” do not migrate to the surface, but rather sediment like
bottom-fermenting yeasts. Many yeasts available to the homebrewer, especially
those supplied with malt extracts or kits, fit this category, since the manufacturer
wants to make sure his customer brews clear beer. At one time, a distinction was
made between the two types by taxonomists: top-fermenting yeast was termed
Saccharomyces cerevisiae, and bottom-fermenting Saccharomyces uvarum.
However, both are now classified as belonging to the same subfamily,
Saccharomyces cerevisiae.24
The terms top-fermenting and bottom-fermenting have been used for over a
century. Top-fermenting yeast was collected by skimming it from the top of the
beer in ale brewing, and bottom-fermenting yeast was collected from the bottom
of the fermenter in lager brewing. This was a crude form of yeast selection, or
culturing, that led to the elimination of strains that did not suit the method of
collection. Consequently, yeasts are better distinguished by the type of beer to
which they are best suited and by the fermentation temperatures appropriate to
each type of beer. Ale yeasts give optimum results at temperatures in the range
60–70 °F (15.6–21.1 °C) and usually stop fermenting as the temperature
approaches 50 °F (10 °C). They might separate on the surface at the end of
primary fermentation. Lager yeasts, on the other hand, ferment well at
temperatures below 50 °F (10 °C) and sediment to the bottom of the fermenter.
The warmer fermentation temperatures of ales result in the formation of a
number of chemical compounds that are not generally seen in lagers. Since most
of these are of an aromatic nature (in sensory, rather than chemical terms!),
lagers are generally held to result in a cleaner, smoother drink. In fact, these
fermentation by-products help to give pale ale its complexity and character.
Chief among these are the various esters (compounds of acids and alcohols),
which are detectable by their fruity aromas and flavors.
There is more to this than temperature, however, for some yeast strains
produce more esters than others do under similar conditions. The yeast used by
Sierra Nevada for its pale ale, for example, is renowned for its clean
fermentation characteristics because it produces few esters. Many of the yeasts
used by English brewers give significant amounts of esters and produce fruity
beers; the Ringwood strain (used by many microbrewers) is a good example.
And, in fact, many English brewing yeasts are a combination of several strains,
although this is now perhaps less often the case than previously.
Individual ale yeast strains can have very different fermentation characteristics
in terms of attenuation of wort sugars. You need a high-attenuating strain if you
want to re-create one of the early IPAs. A low-attenuating one is more suited to a
beer such as an ESB, in which a maltier character is desired. Attenuation depends
in part on the flocculation characteristics of the strain. Flocculation is the ability
of the yeast to aggregate, or clump together, at the end of the first fermentation
stage. High-flocculating yeasts settle out very readily and might do so before
attenuation is complete. Low-flocculating yeasts separate much less readily and
so often give quite complete attenuation. This has led to the design of different
types of fermenters, such as Burton Unions, Yorkshire stone squares, and so on,
in order to get the desired attenuation from a strain that gives suitable flavors.
Types of Fermenters
The vessels you have in part decide what strains of yeast you can use. Conical
fermenters are the most versatile because they permit the use of virtually any
strain, whether sedimenting or not. The glass carboys favored by so many
homebrewers also permit the use of a wide range of strains, but they work best
with sedimenting types. True top-fermenting yeasts do not work well in carboys,
unless handled by the blow-off technique. This technique consists of using a
stopper drilled to take a wide tube that leads into a collecting vessel. During the
early stages of fermentation, when vigorous frothing occurs, a lot of foam is
pushed out into the collector and must be discarded. Note, this technique has
been called a Burton Union type of system, but it most certainly is not. The
Burton Union system calls for the return of the collected beer after the separation
of the yeast. In its original concept, it was not used for the early stages of
fermentation, which were performed in a standard open vessel. In the blow-off
system, the overflow beer is simply lost. Hop bittering resins are surface-active
materials and are lost with the foam. This does not help the head formation
characteristics of the finished beer. There also is a risk of blockage of the blow-
off tube, thereby resulting in a very dangerous situation because of the high
pressures that can then develop in the vessel. In my view, the blow-off system
has little to recommend it. It is better to use an oversized carboy, with 1 to 2
gallons of headspace above the beer, and to rack into a smaller vessel as soon as
the primary fermentation subsides.
Other closed vessels are available to the homebrewer. These include a conical
fermenter, constructed of plastic, as well as several kits that permit the inversion
of a carboy, with a cap that allows both yeast collection and pressure relief.
Conical fermenters can be unwieldy, and the yeast often does not flow well
through the collection tubes prior to racking. But I have had satisfactory results
with this type of closed vessel. My own approach is to use a 7-gallon
polycarbonate vessel, fitted with a lid that can take a fermentation lock, and a
bottom take-off tap. This makes for easy racking and copes nicely with true top-
fermenting yeasts, which are simply left on the bottom of the vessel at racking.
Traditional English brewers still often use an open fermenter and swear that it
is the only way to get the best flavors in a cask-conditioned bitter. In the simplest
open fermenter, the beer is held until ready for casking, at which time it is
transferred from the fermenter to a racking back. To use an open fermenter
properly, you must have a yeast that will form a good thick skin on the surface.
This skin acts as a protective layer for the beer once the violent stage of
fermentation is over. Open fermentation is practiced by some American
craftbrewers, particularly those that have installed British-designed equipment. It
is not a technique that homebrewers like much, however, partly because it is
difficult to obtain the right type of yeast and partly because the risk of infection
is higher than with a closed vessel.
Open fermenters, called “rounds” at one time because of their round shape,
used to be wooden and lined with copper for ease of cleaning. Rectangular
construction in stainless steel is now more common. Fermenters of this type are
usually quite shallow, much more so than conical vessels. I do not discuss the
details of fermenter construction here, particularly the more complicated Burton
Union and Yorkshire stone square systems, although both are still used in
England. For a good, general account of this, see Michael J. Lewis and Tom W.
Young’s Brewing cited in appendix B.
TABLE 7
Yeast Suggestions
Strain Source Esters Flocculence1 Beer Substyle
1This is a relative term and might indicate a fast-settling yeast or one that forms a good skin. The yeasts
mentioned here almost all give high attenuation when properly handled.
2While it has been suggested that this is a Burton Ale yeast, my own comparison with a Young’s yeast
obtained elsewhere indicates that the London Ale designation is correct. Source: George J. Fix and Laurie
A. Fix, An Analysis of Brewing Techniques (Boulder, Colo.: Brewers Publications, 1997), 62.
3This can, and often does, give the beer a very complex estery character, which can be too much for some
tastes!
4This does in fact seem to be a Burton Ale. As such, it warrants trying by all pale ale brewers at least once.
5This is probably a Guinness yeast and, though obviously meant for stout, works very well in English pale
ales and American ambers. These cultures do not seem to work as well as those I could once get from
bottle-conditioned Guinness in England that gave amazing kraeusen and skin formation!
6This yeast often gives moderately high levels of diacetyl. As long as this is not overdone, it can add a nice
edge of complexity to a special bitter.
7Basically, the yeast for Sierra Nevada, yielding a clean, relatively neutral flavor.
8This might no longer be available. It is very interesting as one of the few deliberately produced mixed
cultures.
9This ostensibly is Fuller’s ESB yeast and therefore mandatory to try if you want to produce something in
the full, fruity, strong bitter style.
Can I recommend any good cultures for beers in the pale ale style? I am
reluctant to do this because so many of the strains available are proprietary and
so many exist that I have been unable to try them all. Table 7 lists some
suggestions on strains that have given me good results.
Please, please do not see table 7 as limiting your choice of yeast. First, other
suppliers than those mentioned probably offer something similar and so should
not be ignored. Second, I have not by any means tried all of the yeasts available
on the market. I tend to keep a good one going when I find it, and some of my
successes have been with yeasts that I have obtained privately and that are just
not available in America. And do remember that the choice of yeast for a
particular beer might be a compromise. Something that gives a good flavor
profile might not give the attenuation you want or might cause problems with
clarification. But yeast is a rich field in which to experiment. The various
American suppliers are to be congratulated on their offerings. They have done a
good job of supplying a wide range of ale yeasts, much better than their English
counterparts, especially as far as the homebrewer is concerned.
Water
It is a truism to say that the quality of brewing water is of paramount
importance in brewing good beer. But the one thing you do not want is pure
water. Instead, you want water that contains a suitable salt content to give the
desired results. This means that the water should have the right kind of salts so
that the mash pH (acidity) is in the range 5.2–5.5. In this way, you can obtain
optimum performance from the malt enzymes and therefore maximum starch
conversion. For pale ales, in which the main grain is pale ale malt, which is low
in acidity, this means that you do not want an alkaline water. In particular, you
do not want one that is high in bicarbonate, or temporary hardness. If it is, you
can compensate by adjusting salt content through adding acidic salts such as
calcium sulfate (gypsum).
But do you really need to do this? It is well known that most of the great
brewing styles came into being because the places where they were brewed had
just the right water for that particular style. Pilsen has soft water suited to pale
lagers; London and Dublin have relatively alkaline waters suited to the brewing
of dark beers, such as porters and stouts; and Burton has very hard water that is
high in calcium and sulfate and is just perfect for pale ales. Yet these reputations
for certain beer styles brewed in certain places came about only a hundred or
more years ago, when malt quality was not what it is today. Today, it is much
easier to be careless about mash pH and still get good conversion than was the
case in the early nineteenth century. And if you brew from malt extract, there is
no need to add salts to adjust mash pH, since the mashing has already been done
for you.
I am not suggesting that you should simply ignore water quality and plough
ahead, just that you should not perhaps be overly concerned about it. If the water
contains no nasties such as bacteria or organic material and is fit to drink, try a
mash and check its pH. If the pH is in the right region, you can proceed with
brewing; if not, try adding gypsum in small increments until you bring the
acidity into the range cited previously. Note how much gypsum you have added,
and add the same amount in future brews—you should be all right (although it
would be wise to check the pH at each mash). If the gypsum addition does not
correct the pH, then you do have a problem and must do something about it.
However, there is more to water than just mash acidity. Certain salts will have
an effect on beer flavor, and their addition might be desirable on those grounds
alone. For the purposes of brewing pale ales and bitters, where hop bitterness is
such an important flavor component, the sulfate ion is essential because it
enhances bitterness. Too much sulfate can lead to a harsh bitterness, however, so
the presence of chloride ions can be useful also, as these tend to mellow and
soften the beer. Too much bicarbonate can make it difficult to adjust mash pH, as
well as possibly cause the beer to have a flat, flabby flavor spectrum.
I do not want to go into great detail here, as the chemistry of water is
amazingly complex and has already been well covered in the literature (see
appendix B). I do recommend that you obtain a water analysis. This can be
performed by either your water company if you are on a mains supply or a local
laboratory if you are using a well.
If your water is high in organics and chlorine, then you might have to use an
activated carbon filter. If it is high in certain metals, such as over 10 ppm (mg/l)
copper and iron or high in nitrites, you might want to consider an ion exchange
treatment. This must be of the two-stage cation/anion exchange. The single-stage
cation exchange, used for water softening in household set-ups, will not yield
good results. It simply replaces calcium with sodium—this is definitely not
suitable for brewing purposes. For craftbrewers who want to brew several
different styles from a water that is high in mineral content, ion exchange
followed by salt adjustment for particular styles is a good, if relatively
expensive, way to go.
You should remove chlorine because it can react with all kinds of beer organic
components to give all types of beer off-flavors. If you do not use activated
carbon for this, then at least boil the water first. Boiling is also a good way to
reduce excessive levels of carbonate, which will precipitate as insoluble calcium
carbonate. Note, however, that boiling removes only chlorine and not
chloramines, which are often used in place of chlorine by water companies.
What does the rest of the water analysis tell you? It will not tell you which
salts have been dissolved in the water. Rather, it will list only the ions present,
which are positive (cations) and negative (anions). How do you use this
information to ensure that your mash will be in the desired acidity range? There
are equations you can use that will give a prediction of mash pH, but I have not
used them.29 I prefer the simpler approach of adjusting the ion content to what I
think is suitable by adding salts. I find it simpler because I can work in direct ion
concentrations and can avoid getting lost in the maze of different definitions of
“hardness.” I have to admit, however, that this is easy for me because my water
is fairly soft, with a relatively low dissolved ion content. It is always easier to
increase ion concentrations than it is to decrease them. In fact, the only way to
reduce ion content, apart from removing carbonate and some excess iron by
boiling, is by dilution with distilled water. That, of course, would reduce the
concentrations of all ions present, in proportion to the dilution ratio.
To adjust the concentrations of the various ions, you have to know what your
target is. This is not quite so simple. One approach is to look at the composition
of a water you know to be suitable for brewing pales, and of course Burton water
is an obvious candidate. Table 8 shows an analysis of Burton water, focusing on
the typical values for the ions of most concern to brewers.
TABLE 8
Burton Brewing Water Analysis
*I have given a range here. There are many published analyses of Burton water, and there is some variation
in their results due to variations in samples and analytical techniques.
A simple and effective method to produce a water suitable for brewing pale
ales is to concentrate on the calcium and sulfate levels. Adjust these by adding
gypsum to bring the concentrations of these ions in line with the data in table 8. I
ignore magnesium because I do not consider that it has a significant effect at
these calcium levels. (Also, I cannot forget that magnesium sulfate is a laxative!)
If desired, you can also add sodium chloride to increase the levels of these two
ions, although their concentration is quite low in table 8. In general, you do not
want to add carbonate ions, unless your water is very, very soft. In the latter case,
you can add calcium carbonate to increase the bicarbonate concentration. Note
that calcium carbonate must be added to the mash, not the water, because it is
not directly soluble in water. The best approach is to check mash pH and add
calcium carbonate only if the pH is below 5.5. Then follow with plenty of
agitation to ensure equilibrium is reached.
When adding salts, you might find the following equation helpful. Gypsum is
CaSO4 • 2H2O, so that
You can see that water treatment is not quite so simple as might be expected.
Every salt you add puts two ions into solution, so exact balancing of every ion
becomes almost impossible. This is why many brewers making this kind of
adjustment add only gypsum in order to give a sufficient level of sulfate and
calcium, in a process called burtonization. Sulfate is needed to adjust pH and for
flavor reasons. Calcium is important in the brewing process for a variety of
reasons—from buffering of the mash pH to helping to ensure good break
formation and yeast flocculation. As you can see, it takes very little sodium
chloride or calcium carbonate to increase the levels of chloride and bicarbonate
to those found in Burton water.
TABLE 9
Targets for Pale Ale Brewing Water
Bicarbonate 50 maximum
Sulfate 200–500
Chloride 20–40
The problem with all of this is that Burton water is quite unique. It has a very
high ion concentration and a very high level of dissolved solids (around 1,200
mg/l). The level of sulfate is extremely high, which is probably why the high
level of bicarbonate is not a problem in brewing. It also leads to a so-called
“sulfury” flavor to which I have referred earlier in chapter 1. In fact, it is more
likely a combining of the mineral flavor of the sulfate with that of the high level
of hops.30 All in all, it can be argued that Burton water is so complex and
unusual that you are better off not attempting to match it exactly and sticking to
adding gypsum in most cases.
In general, I use a much simpler approach and try to hit some simple target
ranges like those listed in table 9.
I would look to the lower end of these ranges for sulfate and calcium for a
special bitter in which I wanted a more malty character. The same would apply if
I were using an aggressively flavored hop like Cascades. If I wanted to soften a
very high level of bitterness (say above 40 IBU), I might also go higher on the
sodium chloride. However, I would limit it to a maximum of around 30 mg/l
sodium and 60 mg/l chloride. As mentioned previously, there is a good argument
for not getting too involved in the complexities of water treatment. If your
supply gives a satisfactory pH for mashing, if extract efficiency is acceptable,
and if the final result is a good beer, that is all you need to worry about.
Note that if you do treat the water, then you must do it to all of your brewing
water, including that used for sparging. Otherwise, you might leach tannins from
the malt husks during sparging. The result will be a beer with an unpleasant
astringent flavor.
If you are brewing from extract, then you might want to make adjustments
purely for flavor purposes. This should be done at the boil; all you need to do is
to add a little gypsum. Add only 5–10 grams (1–2 teaspoonfuls, if you must be
so crude!), and stir it thoroughly into the cooled wort. Do not add it to the hot
wort, as gypsum has the unusual characteristic of being less soluble in a hot
aqueous medium than in a cold one.
One last point in this age of “designer” water. If your supply does not appear
to be suitable for brewing pale ales, be careful about using bottled spring water.
Do get a full analysis of the water and check it carefully because if it is genuine
spring water, it might well be unusually high in bicarbonate and not at all
appropriate for pale ale. You might be better off looking into techniques such as
ion exchange on your original supply or obtaining brewing water from an
entirely different source.
CHAPTER 4
Packaging and Dispensing Methods
Aging
So, you have brewed the beer, and the primary fermentation is done. What
next? There are no hard and fast rules, of course, but your approach is dictated
by whatever substyle you are brewing. If you are making a low-gravity bitter,
then it is perfectly possible to rack it directly into a cask or keg immediately
after the primary fermentation is done. It is possible, but I do not recommend it.
For all pale ales, it is best to rack after primary and to hold in either a closed
vessel or one fitted with a fermentation lock for from one to seven days. You can
dry hop at this point if you wish, although traditionally this takes place in the
cask. Racking after primary fermentation is beneficial because the beer does not
sit on the dead yeast for any length of time; yeast allowed to do this can cause
the development of off-flavors through autolysis. Also, the period of secondary
fermentation, or conditioning, allows a reduction in yeast content so that the beer
is ready for packaging. If you have too high a yeast content after the secondary
fermentation, then you will have a lot of sediment in bottle-conditioned beer,
difficulties in fining a cask-conditioned beer, or problems in filtration.
In fact, not much does occur in the way of secondary fermentation. With a
good, healthy yeast added in sufficient quantity, all but the strongest of these
beers should be down to finishing gravity at the end of primary fermentation.
Also, it is not wise to cool the beer too soon, as a short period at relatively warm
temperatures (60–70 °F, 15.6–21.1 °C) will ensure that diacetyl concentrations
are at acceptable levels. Although these styles can stand more in the way of
diacetyl than would be permissible in a pale lager, you will regret it if the levels
are too high!
For a beer with an original gravity of up to 1.050 (12.4 °P) or so, you do not
really need more than one week in the secondary. Long maturation times in the
secondary or in the final container do not add anything to the flavor of this type
of beer and will result in a loss of freshness. These beers are high in both hop
bitterness and hop character; long storage causes a loss of both and will spoil the
beer’s impact. Possibly worse, if you have not excluded all air from your
fermenter, bottle, or keg, then hop-derived compounds will oxidize, thereby
giving a whole host of unpleasant-tasting products. Think fresh! In my opinion,
lower-gravity bitters are best drunk within a week or so of kegging or casking.
Special bitters, American pale ales, and amber ales will keep for a few more
weeks, but do not overdo it.
IPAs, however, are a little different. Because of their higher gravities, they
might not ferment fully in the primary and might need a few weeks in the
secondary to reach full attenuation. Since they have very high levels of hop
bitterness, they might taste quite harsh when just a week or two old; several
months’ maturation will help to smooth out the beer. Again, if you do not rigidly
exclude air, such maturation might cause more problems than it cures.
If you want an oak flavor in your beer, consider maturing over oak chips.
Lengthy maturation in wooden casks will not normally give an oak flavor, unless
the type of oak has been carefully chosen to do just that. I discuss this a little
further in this chapter under cask conditioning. I do not believe that oak should
be a part of this beer’s flavor spectrum, whatever might be said about
Ballantine’s IPA. It is certainly not a characteristic of any English beer that I have
tasted and, as I discussed in chapter 1, probably did not apply to any of the pale
ales of the nineteenth century.
In fact, long storage of pale ales results in a loss of hop bitterness and hop
character. This might not be serious at higher bittering levels. I have kept bottles
of my version of Original IPA (see chapter 1) for up to two years and could not
detect any loss in bitterness. However, that beer could have been as high as 200
IBUs so that even a 50% reduction over two years would still have left it a very
bitter beer by normal standards.
An issue I did not discuss in chapter 3 is finishing gravity, although I referred
to it earlier in this chapter. With proper yeast management, you should be able to
come very close to finishing gravity by the end of primary fermentation, no more
than 0.002 points (about 0.5 °P) above your target. This applies even to the
higher-gravity IPAs (close to 1.070, 17.1 °P). This is generally considered not true
for high-gravity beers because ale yeasts supposedly have a relatively low
alcohol tolerance. However, it has been well-demonstrated that beer yeasts are
just as tolerant of high-alcohol concentrations as are wine yeasts.1
Clarifying Beer with Finings
Finings is a fine piece of brewer’s jargon, if you will forgive the pun.
Essentially, the term is applied to any additive that helps to clarify the beer. An
example is copper finings, which are added to the kettle to flocculate the break.
Copper finings are actually called Irish moss, which in America largely comes
from Massachusetts.2 Irish moss contains carrageenan. Carrageenan is a complex
mixture of polysaccharides, some of which carry acidic sulfate groups (a
relatively unusual group in naturally occurring organic compounds). These
groups neutralize the positively charged protein fragments that form the break,
agglomerating them into larger particles that settle better than the small break
particles. The idea behind using these is to get clear wort that contains very little
trub and to reduce the risk of chill haze formation in the finished beer. However,
it seems that some trub present in the wort might actually help yeast growth. For
a 5-gallon brew volume, you need only 1–2 grams (a pinch is the term often used
in the homebrewing literature).
I used Irish moss for several years, regarding it as small insurance to pay for a
sound fermentation and a good clear beer. However, I had a problem with one
batch of wort: It formed a very voluminous, fluffy break that was difficult to
remove. In subsequent batches, I stopped using Irish moss, and I since have
encountered no problems with either fermentation or final beer clarity.
In English brewing, the term finings is specifically applied to isinglass.
Isinglass is prepared from the swim bladders of certain fish and is mainly
collagen, a proteinaceous material.3 Gelatin is similar but is much lower in
molecular weight. Both substances carry negative and positive charges that are
capable of binding with oppositely charged sites on the yeast wall. Yeast cell
walls carry charges (usually positive), and these charges cause the yeast particles
to repel each other so that they stay in suspension. The finings adsorb onto the
cell wall, neutralizing the charges on the wall to enable the yeast particles to
aggregate and form flocs. Large flocs settle out much more quickly than small
flocs. The settling rate is roughly proportional to the square of the particle size.
In other words, if one floc is 10 times bigger than another, it will settle at 100
times the speed of the smaller floc.
Isinglass is significantly higher in molecular weight than gelatin, so it carries
more charge per molecule and is capable of forming much larger flocs than
gelatin. This means that it will form a dense, compact sediment that is not easily
disturbed in transit or when the beer is drawn off from the container. Isinglass
will also pull out some proteins—this helps prevent haze formation and also
contributes to the stability of beer foam.4
Gelatin is not used by many professional brewers because it is relatively slow
acting. It offers no great advantage with well-flocculating yeast and has
difficulty handling powdery yeasts. It is of some use to the homebrewer,
however, simply because it is easier to handle than isinglass. For 5 gallons of
beer, dissolve one standard sachet (0.5 ounce, 14 g) in warm, but not boiling,
water, mix well with a pint of beer, and add it to the bulk of the beer. The gelatin
might take several days or more to clear and cannot handle high levels of yeast
at all. It is useful only for draught beers, since bottled beers will usually clear
well if left alone. Even with draught beers, gelatin does not give much more of a
compact sediment than can be obtained by natural settling of the yeast. And if
you are going to keep the beer for a week or more before drinking anyway, the
extra effort of adding gelatin hardly seems worthwhile.
Isinglass is much different. Properly used, it will make the beer fall bright
within 24 hours. It will do so even if added at the brewery before shipping to an
account. It has been used in England since the eighteenth century and is still
preferred by many traditional brewers. It is not necessary if you centrifuge or
plan to filter the green beer. But if you want to make a cask-conditioned beer,
isinglass finings ensure bright beer that has a sediment that is not easily
disturbed, even when the last few pints of beer in the cask are pumped off.
There are problems with isinglass, however, not the least of which is storage
stability. Its big collagen molecule, so effective at clearing the beer, very quickly
degrades at temperatures of 70 °F (21 °C); from that point, it is useless as a
finings agent. Further, yeast count must be fairly well controlled, generally in the
region of 1–2 million cells/milliliter. If it is much above or below this level, the
beer might not clear well. In addition, not all yeasts respond well to isinglass (or
other finings); its use should be restricted to English-style, top-fermenting
strains. And if you get it wrong the first time, you cannot re-fine—the situation
will just get worse.
Despite this, isinglass finings are not all that difficult to use, with a little care.
The results are excellent, even for the homebrewer. This is especially true if soda
kegs are used, since these are quite tall and the yeast has to fall a much greater
distance than in, for example, a 12-ounce bottle. The result is that the beer can
take a long time to clear on its own. I use soda kegs all of the time for my
draught beers, and they are clear and ready to drink within a day or so after
kegging or casking.
Do not buy liquid finings unless they have been kept refrigerated and you are
taking them straight home. If finings must be shipped to you, then the liquid
form will almost certainly have degraded by the time you receive it. In the past,
isinglass required “cutting” in an acid solution for as much as several weeks in
order to dissolve it for use. You can now purchase it in powder form, produced
by a freeze-dried process, which supposedly dissolves in water in as few as 20
minutes. Just follow the instructions on the packet.
I find I get more consistent results from the following approach. Take a 1-pint
jar, add a little water (3–4 ounces, about 100 milliliters), and carefully shred 5
grams isinglass on top of the water, shaking vigorously after each addition. A
more sophisticated technique that will avoid the formation of undissolved
clumps is to add the isinglass to a dry jar and then add enough straight grain
alcohol to wet the powder. Top up the jar with boiled water, add 5 grams tartaric
acid, and 1 gram sodium metabisulphite. Seal the jar tightly, shake well, and
store in a refrigerator, shaking at frequent intervals over a week or so. Kept cold,
these finings will keep for months.
The yeast count should be in the correct range after a week in the primary,
followed by a week in the secondary vessel. Rack into the final container, and
mix 5–6 ounces of the prepared 1% solution of isinglass with 1 pint of beer.
Then add it all to the bulk. Seal the container, and shake vigorously. For best
results, the beer should be at around 60 °F (15.6 °C) when fined, and its
temperature preferably should rise a few degrees after that point. Primings, if
used, should be added at the same time. This technique has consistently given
me bright draught beer after around 24 hours, although this result might take a
little longer to produce, depending on the yeast you use. Craftbrewers will find it
advantageous to do a few tests on a small amount of beer in order to determine
the required volume of finings.
You can get more complicated than this and use auxiliary finings. These are
usually acidified silicates, or polysaccharide gums, such as carrageenan and gum
arabic, or blends of both. These will also remove proteins as well as yeast,
thereby leading to better beer colloidal stability.5 Auxiliary finings are not used
on their own. Rather, they are added just prior to fining with isinglass; they will
reduce the amount of isinglass required. I have not found them necessary, but
craftbrewers might want to explore their use, since they will give the beer better
resistance to chill haze formation.
Priming and Carbonation
The purpose of priming is simply to give the finished beer a suitable amount
of dissolved carbon dioxide. However, before you ask how much priming you
need, you must decide how much carbonation you want in the beer. And before
that comes the determination of at what temperature you will serve the beer.
As I mentioned previously, the best temperature is 52–55 °F (11–13 °C). This
is the traditional temperature for English draught beer and is the range in which
the flavors are best perceived. Colder temperatures tend to dampen the fruity ale
character and lessen the impact of hop bitterness. If you prefer the American
approach of drinking your beer colder than that, I recommend that you go no
lower than about 45 °F (7 °C). Anything less than that, and there is little point in
going to great lengths to choose expensive yeasts and complicated hop and grain
bills. You are just not going to taste any of the complexities that you have
labored to put into the beer.
For reasons that I have never understood, carbon dioxide levels are always
measured in volumes of CO2; a volume is measured at 0 °C and 760 millimeters
of mercury pressure. English draught bitter should be served at 1.0–1.5 volumes,
preferably toward the lower end of this range. American pale and amber ales and
IPAs tend to be served at higher carbonation levels, 2.0–2.5 volumes. This is all
really a question of taste, and in that area, there can be no absolutes. But I find
that at 2.0 volumes, the gassiness of the beer tends to dominate the flavor,
masking many of the subtleties of these styles (although the powerful flavor of
Cascades can be difficult to quell!). I also find that a high gas content makes the
drink much more filling, so it is difficult for me to drink anything more than one
or two pints in a session.
Once you have decided on serving temperature and gas content, how do you
get the CO2 into the beer? For the professional, and for the amateur with a keg
set-up, this is fairly straightforward. You simply apply enough pressure to the
vessel to achieve the desired level of carbonation. There are published tables that
provide the required pressure amounts, in terms of both temperature and carbon
dioxide volumes.6 Note that none of these tables shows as low as 1 volume of
CO2, which requires less than 5 pounds per square inch of applied pressure.
Simply applying a pressure to the headspace above the beer will not readily
achieve the carbonation levels you want. This is because carbon dioxide
dissolves slowly in beer. Homebrewers often find it necessary to rock the keg
violently to get the gas to dissolve quickly. Craftbrewers often use a carbonation
stone, a device that disperses the gas as very fine bubbles so that it dissolves
much faster. Otherwise, it might take days for the beer to come to equilibrium
with the applied gas pressure. Clearly, the higher the final content you want, the
longer it will take to reach equilibrium—this is yet another argument in favor of
low levels of carbonation.
If you are bottling a beer, things are a little more difficult because you do not
know just how much gas is already dissolved in the beer before bottling.
Assuming that you have fermented your beer at temperatures in the range 60–70
°F (15.6–21.1 °C), you will have around 0.4–0.5 volumes of CO2 in the beer.
You then have to add enough priming sugar to bring it up to the required level.
But bear in mind that this assumes that the beer has reached terminal gravity. If it
has not, then any residual fermentable sugar will ferment along with the
primings, and the beer might be considerably gassier than you intended.
English brewers use the rule of thumb that finishing gravity should be about
one-quarter original gravity. This can vary, depending on mashing temperatures
used by you or by your malt extract manufacturer. If the beer has stayed at the
same gravity after several days in the secondary, and your fermentation has
proceeded in a normal manner, then you usually can safely assume that you have
reached final gravity. It is prudent, however, to allow for this if your gravity is
above this one-quarter original gravity value. Simply deduct from the
recommended amount of priming 1.5 ounces cane sugar (2 ounces corn sugar)
for every one point of gravity (1.001, 0.3 °P) above this value.
TABLE 10
Priming and Carbonation
(for 5 U.S. gallons)
Originally, the cask was made of English oak, but this wood is now virtually a
vanished commodity. Polish oak now seems to be the favored raw material,
although both German and Russian oak are also suitable. According to the
cooper who made my casks, these oaks are relatively nonporous when properly
cut—this is what helps to make them so watertight. They also have virtually no
“oaking” effect on the beer’s flavor, and that has certainly been my experience
with my own casks. Apparently, English coopers were forced to use American
oak during World War II and found it quite unsuitable. American oak resins
leached out into the beer, giving it an undesirable flavor, and the only solution
was to line the casks with pitch. If you are going to do that, you might just as
well use a steel cask, which is easier to handle.
Today, there are two types of hand pumps, distinguished by the shape of the
delivery spout, as I mentioned earlier in this chapter. The standard one is quite
short, often just a straight horizontal tube with a short, wide tap at one end. This
is the type that has been used for dispensing beers in the south of England for as
long as I have been drinking beer. The second type has a long arching tube, or
swan neck, ending in a fairly narrow orifice. This is a somewhat newer design
and has become accepted as the standard for Northern beers.
Both types can be fitted with a sparkler, which is adjustable and can be
screwed up or down to increase or decrease its effect. The turbulence caused by
forcing the beer through the restricted orifices of the sparkler generates foaming
by the evolution of carbon dioxide and by air pickup. A tight sparkler gives the
beer a very thick, dense head, while a loose one gives it a much fluffier, smaller
head. Without the sparkler, as used to be common, the beer is often served with
virtually no head at all (depending on its condition).
Both types of hand pumps have their devotees in England, but in recent years
the swan neck types have spread all over the country, and beer with a big head
has become common, even in the South. Many English drinkers feel that this is
wrong and that the choice of nozzle should depend on the beer, rather than the
other way round. As always, it is an issue that is clouded by ancient North-South
enmity that often gets in the way of rational judgment. The argument is that
because many hop bittering and aroma components have significant surface
activity, they will be concentrated in the big head of a beer pulled from a swan
neck. This will leave the body of the beer emasculated and uninteresting. This is
certainly true if the head is overdone. However, it is still possible with a swan
neck to produce a beer with a modest head that does not suffer from this effect.
Of course, others say that a tight head actually leads to an emphasis on the hop
aromatic character. It probably would not hurt an American pale ale or IPA to be
pulled off in this way because of their characteristic high hop character.
I feel that this is really a personal choice; you have to decide for yourself on
the type of hand pump to use. If you are not sure, then go for the swan neck, as I
have done—a new clamp-on type costs me $325. Experiment with the sparkler
position or even leave it off, using the same beer. Once you have found what
works for you, leave it that way for future brews. Craftbrewers might have the
choice made for them by their customers. It might well be worth educating them
as to which you think is best for your type of beer. If time permits, you would be
well advised to demonstrate your desired approach to them.
I have included in appendix B a list of sources that include names of suppliers
of casks, kegs, hand pumps, and accessories. I have not checked out all of these
suppliers; some might deal only on a wholesale basis. Homebrewers might have
to work through the lists to find someone prepared to supply retail (although I
found one straightaway when I recently bought a pin and hand pump from an
East Coast supplier).
Serving Pale Ale
Finally, what are you going to dispense the beer into? A glass, naturally, but
what sort of glass? In my opinion, neither American nor English brewers pay
enough attention to their glasses for bitters and pale ales. The so-called “shaker
pint” used by many American craftbreweries and brewpubs is heavy and
unattractive and does little to enhance the enjoyment of drinking. When I first
started going to pubs in England, this style of glass was used only in public bars,
where cheapness was a major consideration. The up-market saloon and private
bars would use something a little better, usually the dimpled mug. This is not so
bad, but it is a little heavy and clumsy and not exactly stylish. Some of the newer
thin straight glasses, or sleeves, used in England are an improvement. But surely
modern design techniques could come up with something much better and more
interesting. Belgian brewers in particular are fastidious about ensuring that their
beer is served from a suitable and attractive, usually badged, glass, so why do we
not also?
I am something of a glass fanatic. I have a collection of around 200 different
styles from all over the world, but particularly from England and America.
Surprisingly few of them are all that interesting in terms of design—many are
more important to me as nostalgic reminders of beers I have drunk. So this is a
plea to brewers everywhere: Pale ale is one of the most important beer styles in
the world, so why can we not have glasses that match that importance?
CHAPTER 5
Pale Ale Recipes
The subject of this chapter should be self-explanatory from the title, but there
are a few points to make before I list the actual recipes.
Each recipe has three versions, one based on a 1-barrel scale and two on 5-
gallon volumes. One of the latter two is a full-mash brew, while the other is from
malt extract. All of the recipes are intended to result in similar beers, but the
beers are unlikely to be identical, due to brewing differences in all three. All are
tested, but I had to make assumptions about grain extraction rates, boil times,
and hop utilization rates. These are listed next. If your parameters differ from
those listed, you will need to adjust hopping rates and grain amounts. Remember
that using different quantities of grain will alter the color of the beer, although
the values given in the recipes are only estimates and you might get more or less
color than I have indicated, depending on malt source and the amount of
caramelization obtained in the copper.
Malt Extract
• Plain, unhopped malt extract only
• Water treatment for flavor only
• Boil time of only 45 minutes
• Hop utilization of 20% for pellets and 18% for hop flowers for a full
boil (less if doing only a partial boil), with hops added at the start of
boil
• Crystal and roasted grain malts crushed and steeped in hot (not boiling)
water, with the liquor separated from the grain before boiling
For the mash beers, use 1–2 quarts of water per pound of malt in the mash.
Sparge with water at around 170 °F (77 °C), using enough to compensate for
evaporative loss during boiling. Your final brew length will be as indicated in the
recipe.
All of these recipes should be regarded as flexible. You do not have to copy
them directly and should feel free to experiment with different ingredients. This
is particularly true of the hop varieties and of late-hopping schedules. One of the
great advances on the small brewing scene, particularly for homebrewers, is the
wide choice of hops now available. So go to it. Make the most of this diversity,
and put your own spin on these recipes. Perhaps you can create yet another
substyle of pale ale!
Ordinary Bitters
140 °L crystal malt 0.375 lb. (170 g) 0.375 lb. (170 g) 2.4 lb. (1.09 kg)
(7.4%) (6%) (6.9%)
British two-rowed — 5.6 lb. (2.54 kg) 30.4 lb. (13.8 kg)
pale malt (90%) (88%)
Wheat malt — 0.25 lb. (114 g) 1.75 lb. (795 g)
(4%) (5.1%)
Beer color (°SRM) 14 14 14
Bittering Hops
WGV hop flowers 2.5 oz. (71 g) 1.8 oz. (51 g) 9.6 oz. (272 g)
(4.9% AA)
HBU 12.3 8.8 —
IBU 33 33 33
Aroma Hops
WGV hop flowers 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.2 oz. (91 g)
(end of boil)
Specifications
Use of dark crystal malt gives this beer a reddish tint and a nutty flavor.
Whitbread Goldings varieties add a nice, slightly lemony, spicy flavor and a little
complexity to what is really a simple session beer.
Best Bitters
60 °L crystal malt 5.0 oz. (142 g) 5.0 oz. (142 g) 2.0 lb. (908 g)
(5.2%) (4.2%) (4.9%)
British two-rowed — 7.1 lb. (3.2 kg) 38.8 lb. (17.6 kg)
pale malt (95.8%) (95.1%)
Beer color (°SRM) 8.0 8.0 8.0
Bittering Hops
WGV hop flowers 2.25 oz. (64 g) 1.6 oz. (45 g) 8.7 oz. (247 g)
(4.9% AA)
HBU 11.0 7.8 —
IBU 30 30 30
Aroma Hops
WGV hop flowers 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
(20 min.)
Goldings (end of 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
boil)
Specifications
This beer is quite malty, although it is still very bitter and hoppy, with more
late hopping than in previous recipes. It has a simple malt bill, so the beer is
quite pale but still has some caramel undertones. The name is a play on Fuller’s
London Pride and the fact that a London soccer team, Arsenal, completed the
“double” of both English Premier League Championship and the Football
Association Cup in the 1997–1998 season.
80 °L crystal malt 6.0 oz. (170 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g) 2.4 lb. (1.1 kg)
(5.5%) (4.7%) (5.4%)
Black malt 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 0.4 lb. (182 g)
(0.9%) (0.8%) (0.9%)
Beer color (°SRM) 17 17 16
Bittering Hops
Challenger hop 1.7 oz. (48 g) 1.2 oz. (34 g) 6.6 oz. (187 g)
flowers (8.6% AA)
HBU 14.6 10.3 —
IBU 40 40 40
Aroma Hop
Challenger hop 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 5.0 oz. (142 g)
flowers (end of
boil)
Specifications
Yeast: Ringwood
Alcohol v/v: 4.9% approximately
Serve: Draught only
This is a fruity “premium” bitter, with some deep red tints from black malt
and plenty of hop character and bitterness. This is a beer to drink a little more
reflectively than one might session brews. Full flavor permits carbonation
toward the high end of the range for draught beers. The name comes from the
liberal use of Challenger hops, what you might call a “pun”-ch!
Special Bitters
British two-rowed — 8.75 lb. (3.97 kg) 48.0 lb. (21.8 kg)
pale malt (94.6%) (93.8%)
120 °L crystal malt 0.5 lb. (227 g) 0.5 lb. (227 g) 3.2 lb. (1.45 kg)
(6.7%) (5.4%) (6.3%)
Beer color (°SRM) 17 17 17
Bittering Hops
Target hop pellets 1.1 oz. (31 g) 0.8 oz. (23 g) 4.4 oz. (125 g)
(11.1% AA)
HBU 12.2 8.9 —
IBU 34 34 36
Aroma Hops
Saaz hop flowers 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
(end of boil)
Specifications
This is a darkish beer, more of an amber than a red color. It should have a fair
amount of esters and a very clean bitterness from the Target, with just a hint of
spice from the Saaz aroma hops. It is quite full bodied, with a lot of caramel
undertones. The name comes from the use of Target hops.
English Pale Ales
English Maris — 8.75 lb. (3.97 kg) 48.0 lb. (21.8 kg)
Otter two-rowed (94.6%) (93.8%)
pale malt
20 °L crystal malt 0.5 lb. (227 g) 0.5 lb. (227 g) 3.2 lb. (1.45 kg)
(6.7%) (5.4%) (6.2%)
Bittering Hops
Goldings hop 1.9 oz. (54 g) 1.4 oz. (40 g) 7.3 oz. (207 g)
flowers (7.8% AA)
HBU 14.8 10.9 —
IBU 40 41 40
Aroma Hops
Goldings hop 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 60.0 oz. (170 g)
flowers (end of
boil)
Specifications
Original gravity: 1.055 (13.6 °P)
This is a very distinctive pale ale. It has a high level of clean bitterness that is
balanced by the nuttiness from the crystal malt and a chewy, grainy character
from the yeast, as well as some citric, aromatic notes from the late-hopped
Goldings. It is something along the line of Worthington White Shield (although
not a direct copy). The name reflects Bass’s surrender of its great tradition when
it recently ceased to brew this ale.
English IPAs
English Maris — 9.5 lb. (4.3 kg) 52.6 lb. (23.9 kg)
Otter two-rowed (95.0%) (94.3%)
pale malt
40 °L crystal malt 0.5 lb. (227 g) 0.5 lb. (227 g) 3.2 lb. (1.45 kg)
(6.2%) (5.0%) (5.7%)
Beer color (°SRM) 10 10 9
Bittering Hops
Phoenix hop 1.5 oz. (43 g) 1.1 oz. (31 g) 5.9 oz. (168 g)
flowers (10.9% AA)
HBU 16.4 12 —
IBU 44 45 45
Aroma Hops
Phoenix hop 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g)
flowers (end of
boil)
Specifications
Original gravity: 1.060 (14.7 °P)
This is a more traditional IPA, except for the hop variety used. It has a small
amount of pale crystal malt to add a little more body and background caramel
and is quite high in bitterness to balance the strength. It should be sipped slowly
while sitting in a deck chair watching somebody else weed the flowerbeds. That
idea and the use of a new hop variety are the sources of the name.
Original IPA
Malt Extract 5 Gal. All-Grain 5 Gal. All-Grain 1 Bbl.
Bittering Hops
Goldings hop 6.5 oz. (185 g) 4.7 oz. (134 g) 25.0 oz. (710 g)
flowers (7.8% AA)
HBU 50.7 36.7 —
IBU About 120 About 120 About 120
Aroma Hops
Goldings hop 10.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g)
flowers (end of
boil)
Specifications
U.S. two-rowed — 6.0 lb. (2.72 kg) 33.4 lb. (15.2 kg)
pale malt (80.0%) (77.7%)
Munich malt 1.0 lb. (454 g) 1.0 lb. (454 g) 6.4 lb. (2.9 kg)
(16.1%) (13.3%) (14.9%)
140 °L crystal malt 0.5 lb. (227 g) 0.5 lb. (227 g) 3.2 lb. (1.45 kg)
(8.1%) (6.7%) (7.4%)
Beer color (°SRM) 21 19 19
Bittering Hops
Chinook hop 0.75 oz. (21 g) 0.6 oz. (17 g) 2.9 oz. (82 g)
pellets (12.1% AA)
HBU 92 7.3 —
IBU 27 27 27
Aroma Hops
Willamette hop 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g)
pellets (end of boil)
Specifications
This beer has quite a deep red-amber color and a complex caramel flavor from
the use of both Munich and dark crystal malts. It has a fair malt body and
relatively low, although definite, hop bitterness, with a nice spicy touch from the
aroma hops.
American Pale Ales
Squeaky Clean
Malt Extract 5 Gal. All-Grain 5 Gal. All-Grain 1 Bbl.
U.S. two-rowed — 8.25 lb. (3.75 kg) 45.7 lb. (20.75 kg)
pale malt (100%) (100%)
Beer color (°SRM) 5 4 4
Bittering Hops
Willamette hop 2.8 oz. (80 g) 2.0 oz. (57 g) 10.8 oz. (307 g)
pellets (4.8% AA)
HBU 13.4 9.6 —
IBU 40 40 40
Aroma Hops
Willamette hop 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
pellets (15 min.)
Willamette hop 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g)
pellets (end of boil)
Specifications
This is a very simple, straightforward beer, with no caramel malts and a fairly
neutral yeast adding little in the way of fruitiness. The high mash temperature
does give some malt body, and the late-hopped Willamette lends a nice spiciness
to back off a fairly high level of bitterness. It is a single varietal hop beer, and
with only one malt, the derivation of the name is obvious.
Bittering Hops
Cascade hop 2.0 oz. (57 g) 1.4 oz. (40 g) 7.5 oz. (213 g)
flowers (5.7% AA)
HBU 11.4 8.0 —
IBU 31 30 30
Aroma Hops
Cascade hop 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
flowers (30 min.)
Cascade hop 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
flowers (10 min.)
Cascade hop 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g)
flowers (end of
boil)
Specifications
Water treatment: Calcium 100 ppm; sulfate 200 ppm; chloride 30 ppm
Mash temperature: 151 °F (66.1 °C)
This brew is very clean-tasting and very pale, thanks to the neutral yeast and
just a touch of lightly roasted crystal. The dominant flavors are from the liberal
use of Cascades aroma hops, with their characteristic, and quite unmistakable,
flowery nature. Bitterness is intensified somewhat by moving to higher levels of
minerals in the water. The name is a play on a well-known craftbrewed pale ale
and could roughly be translated as “Land of the Brave.”
American IPAs
U.S. two-rowed — 9.0 lb. (4.1 kg) 49.5 lb. (22.5 kg)
pale malt (8.28%) (80.5%)
80 °L crystal malt 6.0 oz. (170 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g) 2.4 lb. (1.1 kg)
(4.1%) (3.4%) (3.9%)
Munich malt 1.5 lb. (681 g) 1.5 lb. (681 g) 9.6 lb. (4.4 kg)
(16.5%) (13.8%) (15.6%)
Beer color (°SRM) 14 14 13
Bittering Hops
Mt. Hood hop 3.4 oz. (97 g) 2.4 oz. (68 g) 13.0 oz. (369 g)
pellets (5.0% AA)
HBU 17.0 12.0 —
IBU 51 51 50
Aroma Hops
Mt. Hood hop 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
pellets (15 min.)
Liberty hop pellets 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
(end of boil)
Liberty hop pellets 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
(dry hop in
secondary)
Specifications
Water treatment: Calcium 100 ppm; sulfate 200 ppm; chloride 30 ppm
This beer is many sided and strong in alcohol. It has good body with a fair
amount of caramel in the background, lots of American hop character, and a high
level of bitterness. However, the hop character, given a nice sharp edge from the
dry-hopping, is gentle and spicy and not as aggressive as some other American
hops. This is definitely a sipping rather than a quaffing beer. The title reflects the
American craftbrewers return to the basics of traditional IPA, rather than the
lesser compromise made by English commercial brewers.
U.S. two-rowed — 11.25 lb. (5.1 kg) 61.7 lb. (28 kg)
pale malt (95.7%) (95.1%)
40 °L crystal malt 6.0 oz. (170 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g) 2.4 lb. (1.1 kg)
(4.1%) (3.2%) (3.7%)
140 °L crystal malt 2.0 oz. (57 g) 2.0 oz. (57 g) 0.8 lb. (363 g)
(1.4%) (1.1%) (1.3%)
Beer color (°SRM) 12 12 11
Bittering Hops
Cascade hop 3.5 oz. (99 g) 2.5 oz. (71 g) 13.6 oz. (386 g)
pellets (5.7% AA)
HBU 20.0 14.3 —
IBU 60 60 60
Aroma Hops
Cascade hop 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g)
pellets (30 min.)
Cascade hop 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g)
pellets (15 min.)
Cascade hop 1.0 oz. (28 g) 1.0 oz. (28 g) 6.0 oz. (170 g)
pellets (end of boil)
Cascade hop 0.5 oz. (14 g) 0.5 oz. (14 g) 3.0 oz. (85 g)
pellets (dry hop in
secondary)
Specifications
The Flower Pots Inn’s origins as a house are obvious. It’s just the place to slake a thirst generated by
cycling around the hilly Hampshire countryside.
Harder to find is Pots Ale, a very bitter, hoppy ordinary bitter. It is brewed at
the Cheriton Brewhouse in Hampshire, right in the yard of a delightful country
pub, the Flower Pots Inn. Perhaps some of the hoppiest cask-conditioned bitters
are those from the Bishops Brewery, based appropriately enough around the
corner from the Hop Exchange, in Southwark. This was where the first Flemish
beer brewers settled; they introduced hops to England in the fifteenth century.
The brewery itself is not too far from the new Globe Theatre, a reconstruction of
the one at which many of Shakespeare’s plays were first staged. Get yer
Hampsteads around a pint of Cathedral Bitter, and then go and see the Bard’s
work much as it was originally performed, in an open theatre, but not, of course,
in winter! What are Hampsteads? Hampstead Heaths (don’t pronounce the H)
are teeth in Cockney rhyming slang!
On the East Coast, you have to look for Adnam’s in Suffolk. In particular, its
Best Bitter (actually an ordinary) and Broadside (a best) are very enjoyable,
although another best, Extra, is the championship winner of the three. The
brewery is right by the coast in the charming little town of Southwold (where the
writer George Orwell once lived). The beers there have an unusual flavor,
sometimes said to be redolent of seaweed. Not far away is the town of Norwich.
This is where the micro Woodforde brews; it has no fewer than two former
Champion Beers of Britain in its portfolio. Try its Wherry Best Bitter for an
ordinary with a lot of hop bitterness and aromatic character.
In the Midlands area, try Marston’s, a Burton brewer, although you can find
their pubs and beers over a wide area. Pedigree is the only English beer still
brewed in Unions. When kept well, it is an excellent best bitter, with the good
hop bitterness, nice maltiness, and good dry finish that a Burton pale ale should
have. Some of its bottled beers are sold in America, including its India Export
Pale Ale, which I found pleasant but somewhat blander than expected. Bass, of
course, still brews in Burton, but without the Unions. Its beer, Draught Bass, is
a best bitter that can rarely be found in good shape these days. It is, to me,
disappointingly bland.
Quite a few northern beers are worthy of note, particularly those from
Timothy Taylor, a Yorkshire brewer. Its Landlord, a best bitter and a former
Champion Beer of Britain, is a long-time favorite of mine. It is both interesting
and dangerously drinkable—hoppy, fruity, and malty with an unusual nutty
aspect. From the same county comes Samuel Smith, whose only real ale is Old
Brewery Bitter. This, and its bottled Pale Ale, which is widely available in
America, are good examples of beers produced in Yorkshire stone squares. They
exhibit a characteristic buttery note, derived from diacetyl. The Yorkshire micro
Barnsley Brewery offers an IPA, although its gravity puts it only in the best
bitter range. Yet, I found this to be one of the hoppiest beers that I have tried in a
while in terms of both a lovely grassy, lemony aroma and a hefty bitterness. On a
short visit to England, you might not have time to locate it, but the taste of this
beer will well repay you for hunting for it.
In Manchester and the Northwest area are a number of good ordinary bitters.
Those from Cain’s in Liverpool, Manchester’s Holt’s, and Hyde’s Anvil are
worth looking for, while the Cumbrian brewer, Jennings, offers a couple of
unusually dark bitters. One of these rejoices in the name of Sneck Lifter—and
you can make what you like of that! One of the archetypal pale, very bitter
ordinary bitters I used to associate with Manchester is Boddington’s. Whitbread
now owns and operates the ex-Boddington brewery and has somewhat
emasculated the beer in its efforts to make it a national brand. Boddington’s is
available in America as “pub beer” in cans fitted with the nitrogen “widget.”
This means that it pours with a creamy head but has a low carbon dioxide
content. It still has the very pale color I always knew and a not bad hoppy
bitterness, but it no longer has the sharp bite of old.
A pub owned by one of Britain’s largest brewers. The sign is more interesting than the beer!
There are many others I could mention. One is Deuchars IPA (really an
ordinary bitter) from Caledonian in Scotland, which is sold in bottle in America.
And there are some good brewers in Wales, such as Felinfoel and its unusual
Double Dragon (a best bitter), as well as Brains. The latter’s beers are not
particularly distinctive, but with advertising slogans like “Get Some Brains,” it is
worth mentioning. Of course, there are quite a few British beers on sale in
America, but they are all either bottled or kegged and not at all the same as when
tasted in cask-conditioned form on their home territory. If you are really
interested in this style, you should make the effort to cross the water at some
stage in your brewing career.
American Examples
As for American brews in the genre, there are, happily, many more than I
could hope to deal with here. Some are now old favorites and were mentioned
earlier in the book. These include Sierra Nevada Pale Ale (a little too clean and
lacking in complexity for my taste, but it is a classic of its kind) and Ballantine’s
IPA. Although not quite the beer it used to be, Ballantine’s is still not a bad
drink. Bert Grant’s IPA remains a very bitter but still malty version of the
American IPA style, as does Anchor’s Liberty Ale. Geary’s of Portland, Maine,
does a nice pale ale. It’s nicely bitter but has more of the nutty, caramel character
of the English style of pale ale.
Full Sail from Oregon has an excellent IPA, although this is really an English
version, since it uses East Kent Goldings. The same brewery does a good, quite
bitter and unusually strong amber ale. Rogue, also from Oregon, has an excellent
American Amber Ale that is hoppy and has a nice caramel flavor. And
Catamount in Vermont is still turning out its Amber Ale. It is perhaps something
of a transition beer, but it is still nicely balanced and has a definite bitterness.
A new-era pale ale and IPA, brewed in Maine and Boston, Massachusetts, respectively. Both more in the
English rather than American style, but well hopped and bitter as they should be.
aerate. To force atmospheric air or oxygen into solution. To introduce air to the
wort at various stages of the brewing process.
aeration. The action of introducing air to the wort at various stages of the
brewing process.
all-extract beer. A beer made with only malt extract as opposed to one made
from barley or a combination of malt extract and barley.
all-grain beer. A beer made with only malted barley as opposed to one made
from malt extract or from malt extract and malted barley.
alpha acid unit (AAU). The number of AAUs in a hop addition is equal to the
weight of the addition in ounces times the alpha acid percentage. Thus, 1 ounce
of 5% alpha acid hops contain 5 AAUs. AAU is the same as homebrewers bittering
units (HBU).
alpha acid (a-acid). The principal source of bitterness from hops when
isomerized by boiling. These separate but related alpha acids come from the soft
alpha resin of the hop. (When boiled, alpha acids are converted to iso-alpha-
acids.)
anaerobic. Conditions under which there is not enough oxygen for respiratory
metabolic function. Anaerobic microorganisms are those that can function
without the presence of free molecular oxygen.
aqueous. Of water.
Brettanomyces. A genus of yeast that has a role in the production of some beers,
such as modern lambics, Berliner weisse, and historical porters.
BU:GU ratio. The ratio of bitterness units (BU) to gravity units (GU) for a specific
beer or group of beers. International bitterness units (IBU) are used for bitterness,
and gravity units (GU) are used for the gravity component. GU = original gravity
– 1 ¥ 1,000. For most beers and beer styles, the resulting ratio has a value
between 0.3 and 1.0.
carbonate. An alkaline salt whose anions are derived from carbonic acid.
carbonation. The process of introducing carbon dioxide gas into a liquid by (1)
injecting the finished beer with carbon dioxide; (2) adding young fermenting
beer to finished beer for a renewed fermentation (kraeusening); (3) priming
(adding sugar or wort to) fermented wort prior to bottling, thereby creating a
secondary fermentation in the bottle; or (4) finishing fermentation under
pressure.
chill haze. Haziness caused by protein and tannin during the secondary
fermentation.
diastatic malt extract. A type of malt extract containing the diastatic enzymes
naturally found in malt and needed for conversion of starch into sugar. This type
of extract is sometimes used in recipes that contain grain adjuncts such as corn
or rice.
dry hopping. The addition of hops to the primary fermenter, the secondary
fermenter, or casked beer to add aroma and hop character to the finished beer
without adding significant bitterness.
extract. The amount of dissolved materials in the wort after mashing and
lautering malted barley and/or malt adjuncts such as corn and rice.
fermentation lock. A one-way valve that allows carbon dioxide gas to escape
from the fermenter while excluding contaminants.
fining. (n.) A clarifying agent. (v.) The process of adding clarifying agents to
beer during secondary fermentation to precipitate suspended matter. Examples of
clarifying agents are isinglass, gelatin, and bentonite.
green malt. Malt that has been steeped and germinated and is ready for kilning.
gruit. A mixture of spices and herbs used to bitter and flavor ales before the
acceptance of hops as a bittering and flavoring agent.
hop pellets. Hop cones compressed into tablets. Hop pellets are 20 to 30% more
bitter by weight than the same hop variety in loose form. Hop pellets are less
subject to alpha acid losses than are whole hops.
isinglass. A gelatinous substance made from the swim bladder of certain fish and
added to beer as a fining agent.
kilning. The final stage in the malting of barley that prepares it for use by the
brewer. Kilning reduces the moisture contained in the grain to approximately 4%
and also roasts the malt to some extent. The degree of roasting affects the flavor
and color of the malt as well as of the beer it produces.
kraeusen. (n.) The rocky head of foam that appears on the surface of the wort
during fermentation. Also used to describe the period of fermentation
characterized by a rich foam head. (v.) To add fermenting wort to fermented beer
to induce carbonation through a secondary fermentation.
lager. (n.) A generic term for any bottom-fermented beer. Lager brewing is now
the predominant brewing method worldwide except in Britain, where top-
fermented ales dominate. (v.) To store beer at near-freezing temperatures in order
to precipitate yeast cells and proteins and improve taste.
lauter. The process of separating the clear liquid from the spent grain and husks.
lauter tun. A vessel in which the mash settles and the grains are removed from
the sweet wort through a straining process. It has a false slotted bottom and
spigot.
malt. Barley that has been steeped in water, germinated, and then dried in kilns.
This process converts insoluble starches to soluble substances and sugars.
mashing. Mixing ground malt with water to extract the fermentables, degrade
haze-forming proteins, and convert grain starches to fermentable sugars and
nonfermentable carbohydrates.
melanoidin. A color-producing compound produced through a long series of
chemical reactions that begin with the combination of a sugar and an amino acid.
modification. 1. The physical and chemical changes that occur in barley during
malting, where complex molecules are broken down to simpler, soluble
molecules. 2. The degree to which malt has undergone these changes, as
determined by the growth of the acrospire. The greater the degree of
modification, the more readily available starch is and the lower the protein level
is.
oxidation. 1. The combining of oxygen with other molecules, often causing off-
flavors, as with oxidized alcohols, to form aldehydes. 2. A reaction in which the
atoms in an element lose electrons and the element’s valence is correspondingly
increased (oxidation-reduction reaction).
parti-gyle. An arcane system of brewing in which the first runnings of wort are
taken to make a high-gravity beer and the grain is then remashed to create
another brew. This can be done yet again to make a third brew, all from the same
grains. There is usually no sparging involved. With the advent of more
sophisticated equipment that allowed lautering and sparging, the parti-gyle
system of brewing lost favor around the end of the nineteenth century.
ppm. Parts per million. Equal to milligrams per liter (mg/l). The measurement of
particles of matter in solution.
priming. The act of adding priming sugar to a still (or flat) beer so that it can
develop carbonation.
priming sugar. A small amount of corn, malt, or cane sugar added to bulk beer
prior to racking or at bottling to induce a new fermentation and to create
carbonation.
real ale. A style of beer found primarily in England, where it has been
championed by the consumer rights group called the Campaign for Real Ale
(CAMRA). Generally defined as a beer that has undergone a secondary
fermentation in the container from which it is served and that is served without
the application of carbon dioxide.
rest. Mash rest. Holding the mash at a specific temperature to induce certain
enzymatic changes.
runnings. The wort or sweet liquid that is collected during the lautering of the
wet mash.
sparge. The even distribution or spray of hot water over the saccharified mash to
rinse free the extract from the grist.
sparging. Spraying the spent grains in the mash with hot water to retrieve the
remaining malt sugar. This is done at the end of the mashing (saccharification)
process.
starch. A polymer of sugar molecules. The chief form of energy storage for most
plants. It is from starch that the relevant sugars for brewing are derived.
strike temperature. The initial (target) temperature of the water when the
malted barley is added to it to create the mash.
ullage. The empty space between a liquid and the top of its container. Also
called airspace or headspace.
wort. Mash extract (sweet wort). The hopped sugar solution before pitching,
before it is fermented into beer.
Index
AAUs. See Alpha acid units
Activated carbon filters, 199, 200
Adjuncts, 62, 144, 309; availability of, 69; chill haze and, 161; cooking, 162; flavor from, 162; six-
rowed malts and, 145; using, 60, 61–62, 135, 160–65
Adnam Best Bitter, 278
Adnam Broadside, 278
Adnam Extra, 278
Aging, 207–11. See also Maturing
AHA. See American Homebrewers Association
AK Bitter, 67
Ale, 309; development of, 11
Allied Breweries, 76, 79
Allsopp, 23, 39, 42; bankruptcy for, 57; export by, 29; India ale by, 27–28; pale ale by, 41; production
by, 37; pub purchases by, 57
Allsopp, Samuel, 26
Alpha acids, 21, 48, 49, 182, 310; bitterness and, 166, 168, 179; estimating, 178; in hop flowers/pellets,
174; IBUs and, 176, 177
Alpha acid units (AAUs), 179, 310
Altbier, 3
Alton, pale ale from, 40
Amber (term), 52, 93, 122
Amber ales, 98; AHA on, 123; bitterness of, 118; bitters and, 93–94; carbonation in, 218; OG of, 116,
117; malts for, 139, 152, 154; pale ale and, 92–93; real ale and, 94; storing, 209. See also American
amber ales
Amber Ale, 282, 283
Amber Waves of Grain, recipe for, 265–66
American amber ales, 104; classifying, 122–25; color of, 123; malts for, 153; OG of, 123; profile of,
128 (table); recipe for, 265–66
American Homebrewers Association (AHA): on amber ales, 123; on American pale ales, 119; on IPAs,
114; style guidelines from, 108–9, 112
American Homebrewers Association (AHA) 1998 Competition Style Guidelines, on ordinary/
best/strong OG, 108–9
American India pale ales, 50, 82–95, 98, 104; bitterness of, 121; Cascade hops for, 121; classifying,
120–21; gravity of, 114, 120; IBUs of, 119; OG of, 119; profiles of, 128 (table); recipes for, 271–74
American pale ales, 83, 104, 166, 180; AHA on, 119; bitterness of, 118; carbonation in, 218;
classifying, 119–20; English bitters and, 123; English pale ales and, 119–20; gravity of, 119; hops
for, 120, 169, 173; malts for, 152; occurrence of, 115 (fig.); OG of, 116; profile of, 128 (table);
recipes for, 267–70; serving, 244; storing, 209
American Society of Brewing Chemists (ASBC), standards by, 150
America’s Best Brews (Johnson), 115, 276
Analysis of Brewing Techniques, An (Fix and Fix), 147, 191
Anchor Brewing Company, 88, 122
Anchor’s Liberty Ale, 281
Anheuser-Busch, pale ale by, 102
Anvil, bitters from, 280
Aroma, 120, 185. See also Hop aroma
Aroma hops, 132, 178; adding, 138, 180, 183; low alpha acid, 171, 172; selection of, 169; using, 172,
179, 181. See also Hop aroma
Aroma unit (AU), 169
ASBC. See American Society of Brewing Chemists
ASBC Methods of Analysis Malt-4, 150
Atlantic Coast Brewing, real ale by, 94
Attenuation, 135, 146, 191, 192, 196, 311; apparent, 310; flocculation and, 186
AU. See Aroma unit
Austin, Peter, 91
Autolysis, 208, 311
Avon Company, suit against, 41
Caffreys bitter, 31
Cain’s, bitters from, 280
Calcium carbonate, 200, 205; adding, 202, 203
California Steam Beer, 122
Calverley, Charles Stuart, 15
Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA), 1, 227; bottle-conditioned beers and, 222; carbon dioxide and, 94;
on casks, 234; protest by, 71, 77–78; real ale and, 81; serving and, 226
CAMRA Beer Guide 1997 (CAMRA Books), 275, 276
CAMRA Guide to Real Ale in a Bottle (Evans), 275
Cane sugar, 163, 221; fermentability and, 161; priming with, 220
Caramelization, 153, 160, 248
Caramel malts, 93, 153–57; function of, 137; producing, 153–54
Carbonate, 202, 312; removing, 200, 201
Carbonation, 312; artificial, 226, 227; determining amount of, 220 (table); forced, 133; kegs and, 224;
purpose of, 217–21
Carbonation stone, 219
Carbon dioxide, 75, 104, 133, 226, 227, 229; adding, 218, 219; level of, 74; measuring, 218; real ale
and, 94, 233
Carboys, 312; inversion of, 188; yeast and, 187
Carlsberg-Tetley, Bass and, 78–79
Carlton United Breweries, 73
Carrageenan, 211, 216
Cascade hops, 172, 270, 274; flavor of, 128; using, 88, 89, 90, 91, 121, 169, 173, 205
Cask breathers, 233, 234
Cask conditioning, 74, 75, 94, 102, 104, 109, 110, 113, 123, 210, 223, 227, 228–34; dry hopping and,
111, 181–82; fining and, 208; hops and, 181; isinglass and, 214; secondary fermentation during, 228;
sugar priming and, 135; yeast in, 192
Cask Marque, 232
Casks, 209, 215, 229–30; coopered, 235; cost of, 240–41; equipment for, 241; oak, 87, 235–36;
stainless steel, 234–35, 235 (photo), 236, 239–42, 240 (photo); steam cleaning, 86; suppliers of, 245;
treating, 87, 239; wooden, 87, 132, 234, 235, 235 (photo), 239–42
Castlemaine XXXX, 73
Catamount Amber Ale, 92, 282
Catamount Brewing Company, 122 (photo)
Cathedral Bitter, 278
Cellars, temperature in, 231, 232
Cereal cooker, 162
Cereals, 62, 160, 161
Character, 101, 102; fermentation and, 185; malt, 140, 157; oaky, 236, 237. See also Hop character;
Malt character
Charles II, taxation by, 59
Charrington, 39
Cheriton Brewhouse, 167 (photo); bitter from, 277
Chill haze, 61, 74, 160, 213, 217, 313; problems with, 145, 161
Chloramines, 200
Chlorine, removing, 200
Christmas ales, 11
Clarification, 196, 225; finings and, 211–17; Irish moss and, 212
Co-humulone, 168
Coke, using, 12–14
Collagen, 212, 214
Color, 68, 69, 125; bittering and, 111; malts and, 142, 155–56; style and, 112
Commercial brewers, 34, 82; pub buying spree by, 35; style definitions and, 101
Commonwealth Brewery, 282
Competition, 39, 65; intensification of, 56–57, 58
Conditioning, 74, 75, 223; dry hopping and, 181–82; secondary, 207. See also Bottle conditioning;
Cask conditioning
Conditioning tanks, 94
Conical fermenters, 186–87, 188
Consumption, per capita, 34, 64
Coopers, 86, 234; apprenticeships/guild for, 235; oak casks by, 236
Copper finings, adding, 211
Copper kettles, color from, 52
Corn, 162, 164–65
Corn sugar, 163, 220, 221
Counter-pressure bottling, kegging system and, 223
Country brewers, 87; pale ales by, 11, 58
Country House Brewing in England (Sambrook), 87
Courage: bitter by, 222; pub control by, 76; Watney’s and, 78
Courage Russian Imperial Stout, 24
Craftbrewers: malts for, 149; pasteurization and, 135–36; pub-owning companies and, 79; yeast for,
191, 193, 194
Cream style ales, 88, 122
Crossman, 39
Crystal malt, 69, 71, 93, 141, 159, 160; adding, 142; amber ale and, 92; American pale ales and, 147;
analyses for, 156, 156 (table); color from, 155–56; flavor from, 154, 155; function of, 137; lightly
roasted, 112; malt extract and, 158; using, 120–21, 153–57
Cultures, 196, 323
Customs and Excise, brewing sugar and, 47
East India trade, 65; Baltic trade and, 32; exports to, 16–17, 38
East India Company, 26, 27
Eckhardt, Fred, 125
Edinburgh brewers: bitters by, 67; IPA by, 40
Edinburgh-Leith Brewery, 28
Electric pumps, 229, 231, 243
Eliot, John, 15; IPA by, 16; pale ale by, 14
Emerald Isle, 283
Emma, Sal: beer engines and, 242
English bitters: American pale ales and, 123; carbonation in, 218; hops for, 169; IPAs and, 123
English India pale ales, 31 (photo); gravity of, 114; hops for, 169; profiles of, 127 (table); recipes for,
261–64
English National Yeast Culture Collection, 191
English oak: casks with, 235–36; flavors from, 51
English pale ales, 106 (fig.), 276–81; American pale ales and, 119–20; malts for, 152; profiles of, 127
(table); recipe for, 259–60
Enzymes, 146, 159, 314; adding, 145; water and, 197
Equipment, 132, 133; hop considerations and, 173; limitations of, 150
ESBs. See Extra special bitters
Essentials of Beer Style, The (Eckhardt), 125
Esters, 185, 189, 191, 192, 314; yeast and, 120
Evans, Jeff, 275
Exports, 17, 21, 24, 25, 29, 32, 38, 41, 42; hopping rates for, 49
Extracts, 249–50, 315; all-grain brewing and, 143; apparent, 311; dry, 142; grain, 247; hop, 175
Extra special bitters (ESBs), 92, 104, 115; bitterness of, 118; bitters and, 111; OG of, 116, 117
Falstaff group, 85
FAN. See Free amino nitrogen
Felinfoel Double Dragon, 281
Fermentation, 46, 72, 135, 146, 220, 249; character from, 185; controlling, 55, 132, 194; finishing, 43;
malt and, 136; primary, 187, 207, 208, 320; reproducible, 143; secondary, 74, 208, 227, 228, 230,
233, 322; SG at, 141; stuck/incomplete, 139; temperature at, 133, 178, 185, 190; warm, 181; yeasts
and, 183, 185, 186, 194
Fermentation lock, 188, 315
Fermenters: open, 188–89; types of, 186–87
Filtration, 74, 133, 221, 223
Finings, 208, 221, 315; auxiliary, 216, 222; clarifying beer with, 211–17; copper, 211; liquid, 215;
storing, 216; yeasts and, 214
Finishing gravity, 46–47, 53, 315; OG and, 219–20; yeast management and, 210
Firestone Walker Brewing Company, 237
Firkins, size of, 241
5-gallon grain mash, 247, 248–49
Fix, George and Laurie: three-step mash and, 147; on yeast, 191
Flaked maize, 162, 164–65
Flavor, 69, 185; adjuncts and, 162; hops and, 165, 171, 172, 179; malts and, 155, 156; microflora and,
234; packaging and, 104; serving and, 104; style and, 101; temperature and, 129; wood and, 86, 236–
38; yeast and, 143, 193
Flocculation, 191, 192, 203, 315; attenuation and, 186
Flower Pots Inn, 277, 277 (photo)
Flowers brand, 77
Foam, 136; stability of, 213
Ford, Henry, 101
Foster’s, IPA by, 38–39
Frane, Jeff, 163
Free amino nitrogen (FAN), 139, 141, 163
Free Mash Tun Act, 60; impact of, 64–65; taxation provisions of, 61, 62
Free Mash Tun Association, adjuncts and, 60
Fremantle History Museum, 39
Friary, 67
Fuggles hops, 169, 182; using, 91, 121, 173
Fuggles Imperial IPA, 172
Fuller’s ESB, 92, 111, 276
Fuller’s London Pride, 254, 276
Full Sail, IPA by, 282
Gale’s, 237
Garetz, Mark, 178; on hop extracts, 175
Geary’s, pale ale by, 282
Gelatin, 212–13
George and Horn pub, 280 (photo)
George’s Porter Brewery, 27
Gibbs Mew, 79, 80 (photo)
Gladstone, Sir William: beer taxation and, 60, 63
Glasses, 12, 36, 245–46
Go-between, The (Hartley), 7
Golden bitters, 142
Goldings hops, 53, 169, 182, 260; East Kent, 48, 282; Kent, 18, 19, 20, 21, 49; using, 91, 121, 173;
Whitbread, 173, 252
Goodhead, Job, 27
Graham, Charles, 67, 70; on Burton Mild, 66
Grant, Bert: IPA by, 89–90, 281; on original IPAs, 121
Gravity, 151, 315. See also Finishing gravity; Original gravity; Specific gravity
Gray’s Inn Lane, 13
Green beer, 135, 228
Greene, King, pale ale by, 56
Grists, 61, 162, 165
Grits, 164–65
Gruit, 10, 316
Guest beers, 79
Guinness, 56; nitrokeg and, 81; “pub beer” cans by, 227
Gum arabic, 216
G. W. Kent, yeasts from, 192
Gypsum, 197, 205–6; adding, 198, 202–3; mash water and, 58
Racking, 188, 207–8, 225, 321; primary fermentation and, 208; sugar priming at, 135
Railroads, impact of, 35–36
Real ales, 73, 75, 321; amber ale and, 94; American-brewed, 94–95; carbon dioxide and, 94, 233; cask-
conditioned, 61–62; decline of, 77; defending, 71, 81; handling, 232; nitrokeg and, 81; popularity of,
82; serving, 231; symposium on, 94–95; traditional, 73–82
Recipes: style and, 100; versions of, 247–48
Red Barrel, keg, 77
Redhook ESB, 283
Regional brewers: competition for, 58; keg beer by, 77; pub-owning companies and, 79
Reinheitsgebot, 59
Resin glands, 173–74, 187
Richardson, John, 11
Ringwood brewery, 91, 186
Roasted malts, 71, 141, 157; using, 142, 159
Rogue American Amber Ale, 282
Running beers, 55, 64, 86