Microbrewed Adventures - Charles Papazian [102]
I somehow had stumbled onto a Fijian homebrewer. I was amazed at my luck to find such hospitality. But wait a minute, I thought, why couldn’t we have some now? I ventured to ask, somewhat hesitantly, “Johnny, where is your homebrew now?”
“Oh, tomorrow we will have Fiji Homebrew. This afternoon I will make it and tomorrow it will be ready and we will drink to bloody hell.” And he unwound a hearty laugh that slowly trailed off to my own anxiety about bloody hell.
I had let the afternoon’s conversation trail with the words “bloody hell” and soon resolved, “what the hell.” Fate had brought me successfully this far and if it were to make a stop in bloody hell, well, I hadn’t been there yet and might as well see about it.
That night, lying in bed, my mosquito coil lit, I reconsidered my initial anxiety about what the “Fiji Homebrew” could possibly be. I managed to forget my anxiety by remembering my American Homebrewers pledge: “Relax. Don’t worry. Have a homebrew.” I repeated this to myself three times and immediately fell asleep.
My morning came and went, and an afternoon was passed sharing a meal and drinks of kava kava (the national drink of Fiji, derived from the roots of a certain pepper plant) with Fijian prime minister Sir Kamisese Mara, whose home happened to be the village where I was staying. I waited quietly with anticipation, encouraged by Johnny’s winks throughout the day as the brew fermented in a corner of his tiny general store. “It is almost ready, Charlie. Almost ready.”
Johnny Vabula, Lakemba, Fiji
Johnny’s store closed in the late afternoon. It was time!
Johnny sauntered into a side room and drew a pitcher of his Fiji Homebrew. He proudly poured a tall glassful. I stared at it, looked at his devilish smile, and then together we bottoms-upped on our way to bloody hell, wherever that was going to be.
The beer had a rich yeast appearance and flavor that wasn’t at all unpleasant. For sure it was alcoholic. A very mean concoction to be sure. What was it made from, and how? Well, that was easy: water, sugar, a quarter-pound of yeast and the juice of boiled cassava (tapioca). Cassava is a staple food of many South Pacific islands. Incredibly easy to grow, the potato-like root is cooked much the way a potato would be. It is very starchy. As I later learned, Fiji Homebrew can also be made with green coconut water or boiled green papaya juice rather than cassava. And as for the yeast content of Johnny’s five-gallon batch of brew, he says, “The more yeast you use, the stronger and quicker it is.”
“When I drink—I drink to hell,” Johnny said. And so we went into the latter part of the evening, talking about things that two happily tipsy friends talk about. Above all, he impressed upon me his own personal lifestyle—“cowboy style”: “You know how they do in cowboy movies. If a cowboy wants to put his feet on the table, he puts his feet on the table. If a cowboy wants to smash a glass, he smashes a glass. When a cowboy wants to drink, he drinks. Never mind anything else. That is what we do here in my house—COWBOY STYLE.” Rolling into a hearty laugh, he continued, “So, carry on, Charlie. Carry on.”
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VALE VAKAVITI
While not your typical homebrewed beverage, this beer should give you an indication of what beer you might be enjoying if you were stranded on a desert island. The recipe can be found in About the Recipes.
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Matters of Homebrew
TO MAKE SURE I have the beer I like to drink whenever I travel, especially to foreign lands, I simply pack a bottle or two. Sometimes, with the help of friends, I’ll pack 100 gallons. As any homebrewer already realizes, homebrew is great, especially if you’ve made it yourself. And it’s even greater when you’ve taken a