I should extend a congratulations to those who have taken brewing into their owns hands. After watching Old Man Schmidt cook up a tasty English Ale I have come to understand what an art brewing can be. Sure, you can throw some barely and yeast in a ziploc and hide it from you RA in your closet for a couple of weeks and see if the first person to try it paralyzes themselves with botchulism. For those of you who have taken this amateur approach: Kudos for courage!
But when you see a master brewer at his trade it's like watching a mad scientist cooking up a new cure-all. There are pots of bubbling liquids and various vials of undisclosed powders; copper coils and bunson burners; and a mess of plastic tubing that resembles an Escher painting. This scene, oddly enough, is eerily similar to ones that take place in trailer homes shortly before they explode in a barrage of empty little foil sudafed packets.
With the equipment being nearly the same, most of the unemployed, underpaid, and underloved would choose to brew meth over beer. So again, Kudos to those who chose a less lucrative, albeit safer, project.
Brewing also requires an enormous amount of patience. Like the kind of patience you need to sit through four seasons Lost only to realize you're being strung along by advertisers with no end in sight. Fortunately, brewing supplies a much more satisfying reward. Well, at least that's the idea. I for one, don't have the patience to wait for alcohol to appear in the bottles hidden in my magical closet. For I know that alcohol never fails to appear in the bottles at my local liqour store. Being no gambler, I like to bet on a sure thing.
So here's a prost to those who have more courage, patience, and free time than I. Hopefully I'll get the chance to indulge in the fruits of your labor.
Keep brewing and more importantly, keep drinking.
~T-VO
No comments:
Post a Comment