This is my first blog post (ever) so let me provide a little context to my recurring dream. I was a professional brewer for nine years, on both coasts, in brewpubs and a microbrewery (Northampton Brewery, Boston Beer Works and Golden Pacific Brewing Company in the Bay area). Like many of my peers I graduated from the Siebel Institute of Technology. I lived beer during that time, truly. Thought about it all day, literally, and my friends did the same. We debated the pros/cons of west coast IPA's, whether using an ale yeast to brew a lager style (like Octoberfest) and still calling it by the lager style name was legit, or why Miller High Life is so under-rated. Suffice it to say that brewing really is the perfect blend of art and science. It's been about nine years since my last batch...
...but when I sleep I can't stop making beer. When I am stressed I invariably dream about having to make a 500+ gallons of beer at this moment, right now, after all this time (and not screwing it up so bad that the only option is to dump fruit flavoring in it and sell it as fruit beer). The scene unfolds like this: I walk into Boston Beer Works near Fenway Park for a pint (I worked on five different brewing systems across the three companies but the location is always BBW Fenway). I am quickly approached by one of the owners with an urgent request--"KEVIN! You have to help us! We need you to BREW a bach of beer RIGHT NOW! Everyone's sick (sobbing), and if you can't do it we will RUN OUT OF BEER!" Curiously the fact that the batch won't be ready for a few weeks doesn't matter--GET YOUR ASS MOVING, KITTREDGE!" I am motivated. I jump over the partition that separates the restaurant from the brewhouse and I realize that I'm already wearing my jumpsuit and steel-toed, rubber boots. I check my water tank levels and temps, and then start mashing-in (I guess my assumption is that the malt's all set). Problems crop up and my stress level rises: mash temp start climbing too high (but I catch it and bring the temp down to the right range) , runoff goes way too fast (or doesn't runoff at all) (damn--caught it early though), I hope that I remembered to close the drain valve before starting the kettle (I did), I start doubting that I'm adding the hops at the right times during the boil (check the brew sheet about 20 times), etc. Sweating heavily my dream proceeds like this until I wake up.
Come to think of it, I know I've got my baggage, but maybe my perspective's wrong and it's not stress at all--maybe it's actually a dream about not having to clean-up.
Comments
this is very cool
Good job dude... this is great, keep writing these. And let me know when you're ready to be a brewer again.
Thanks Kevin, seems we share a similar dream
I am an avid brewer, learned my trade in the college dorm room though. I started again recently with some success but the stress around whether a batch will ferment, whether I extracted enough sugars in the sparge, or the temps in my basement are holding up is beginning to effect my sleep also. I guess when you love something enough the stress is normal.
I think it has more to do with your mother
But it might depend on what kind of beer you're being asked to brew.
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