Microbrewed Adventures - Charles Papazian [75]
Now it would be simple to assume that one could learn and brew this unique beer by following a recipe, but I discovered, as with all traditional beers, that if one wishes to come close to authenticity, it is absolutely imperative to experience it firsthand—and in your hand. I did. From this experience I came away with a feeling of admiration for a beer loved by the people who make it.
Vello Noodapera with his brewery kettle and Gotlandsdricke
Gotlandsdricke is brewed everywhere on this tiny island. It is estimated that 5,000 hectoliters of this beer is homebrewed here by its 50,000 residents. That’s 10 liters homebrewed for every man, woman and child on the island. The island is self-sufficient, with its own barley, hops, malt houses and yeast strains.
Dan Andersson, one of Vello’s brewing neighbors, soon arrived for this occasion with a most recent batch of Gotlandsdricke. I drooled with anticipation, watching amazed as this amber nectar was poured from a wooden vessel into a magnificent mug made from juniper wood. The rich, creamy head and the aromatics from the juniper resulted in love at first sip. Wow, was this stuff ever good! A huge pile of birchwood logs caught my eye and I asked whether the malt was smoked with birch with the bark left on. They confirmed my speculation: “Yes, we leave the bark on the wood when we smoke the malt.” No small detail, since birch bark itself has its own unique qualities. “But everyone makes their own style of Gotlandsdricke,” Jesper translated to me from a side conversation going on in Swedish. Details, details. How did they do it? Freshly cut juniper (note: juniper is not the same as cedar) branches are boiled in water for about two hours to make an aromatic amber broth. I noted that the juniper was of the variety that is usually low growing and difficult to handle because of the very thorny nature of the needles (I immediately recalled seeing these types of bushes growing in home gardens and on the mountains of my home state, Colorado).
This is the brewing liquor, which is added to crushed malted barley. Thirty percent is malt dried from the heat and smoke of burning birch logs. The remaining malt is the brewer’s preference, consisting mostly of pale lager-type malt. Some of the amber water is reserved for sparging. The lauter vessel and bottom screen is lined with more freshly cut boughs of juniper. The mash is then poured into the lauter vessel and sparged (rinsing the grains with hot water), and sweet aromatic malt extract is drawn off the bottom. In the kettle local hops are usually used, though the more experienced homebrewers were now making the effort to import German-grown varieties.
When the mash is cool, what seemed to be an infinitesimal amount of baker’s yeast is added. At Vello’s brewery, about one square centimeter of cake yeast was used for a 100-liter (about 25 gallons) batch. The beer was snorting, foaming and in full fermentation within six hours. I didn’t understand the significance of the careful utilization of yeast until after I visited the brewpub in the nearby village, where Gotlandsdricke also was made. Added to 800 liters (about 200 gallons) of fresh wort was a mere 25 grams (less than one ounce) of cake yeast. This is the equivalent of using a half-ounce of dried yeast for a 200-gallon batch of beer! Infinitesimal by brewing science standards, but it worked well.
Vello Noodapera, Gotland
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