Long Live the Kölsch Bock... Or The Little Bathtub Beer That Could

Ok. So we’re well on our way through batch 2 of Lug Tread. Sales are still going very well, and it looks like our initial gamble to release the high-octane version of Lug Tread was the right decision. It seems that most people get the fact that we’re new and that one batch is going to taste different from the next for the first few rounds through (insert huge sigh of relief, wipe sweat from brow).

Part of what made this work for us, I think, has to do with our “Not So Corporate Philosophy” which is emblazoned on our coasters and website. “We brew interesting, tasty beers using the highest quality all natural ingredients…” Our first batch was certainly interesting, very tasty and used the highest quality ingredients – there you go; no lie. Did it match the style we said it would? No. But it had a story to tell, and for the open-minded, it carried a taste that was both familiar and completely different at the same time.

So many weeks ago, before even the first batch was out, we were invited to bring our beer to the beerbistro at the Golden Tap awards, an Ontario award event hosted by BarTowel.com, a really cool website that I’ve been reading for many years. I accepted the offer immediately as a spectacular way to get our beer to Toronto for the first time.

So, this was the big time, baby. This was the Beer Bistro, Stephen Beaumont's place. [For those who don’t know, he is Canada’s foremost authority on beer, and therefore Canada’s scariest.] A quick scan around the room had my heart racing as many of the brewers and entrepreneurs of Ontario’s finest chatted casually while tasting some of the incredible beers at the event and munching on fantastic beer-based cuisine.

Instead of bringing a keg from batch 2 – still not exactly where we want the final product to rest, but a much smoother beer, definitely moving in the right direction - I had an idea a bout a week earlier, which I ran by Matt (our brewer): “What if we brought the bathtub beer?” This was a nickname we had given the last remaining keg of our Kölsch Bock, the unaltered part from the first 700 litres we kegged before finding out about our ice-up in the aging tank.

You see, en route to deliver the keg to Pub Italia, we found out they were not able to put us on tap right away and asked if we could deliver it the following week. What to do with the keg??? We had a walk-in cooler that was not operational yet, and, desperate to save the beer, we put it in Jamie’s bathtub, filled the tub with ice, and hoped it would survive.

Knowing that the Golden Tap crowd would a) recognize good beer and b) be interested in something different and new I thought to myself, what a great way to use up the rest of this keg. A week before the event Matt and I tapped the keg to give it a test. I was convinced that the beer was fabulous, but Matt was worried. Would these aficionados forgive the beer for not being what it had originally intended to be and judge it simply on what it was? Or would they write it off as a pitiful attempt at a very specific beer style? Matt reminded me that the brewery’s fortunes aside, his reputation as a brewer was at stake, something I had not considered up to that point.

We both had several night's sleep to think it over, and with each passing day, I grew more and more convinced the bathtub beer was the one to use. This beer was not only tasty and interesting, it had a story to tell. And when I thought about what would appeal to me as a beer consumer – the Kölsch Bock was totally cool. But, to appease Matt I arranged for one more pre-tasting with John Graham (owner/head brewer/cool dude at Church Key Brewing). One of his brewers (Matt), our Matt and Jamie all tried a glass. None of us could spot any infection, problem, or flaw in the beer, as long as you didn’t call it a Kölsch.

So I went down to Toronto with little hand bills that were to get handed to each person who ordered a sample of LugTread, explaining the genesis of the beer. It didn’t apologize for the change in taste, but it also didn’t try to hide the fact we were new at this and we were quite surprised by the turnout of the beer.

Was I nervous? You bet. If the beer was poorly received I alone would have to live with my decision. The company’s financial health; Matt’s reputation; and the livelihood of my family, my parents, my brother and my best friends would be at risk. Three different times, I left the beerbistro out of sheer nerves. But each time I came back, forcing myself to live or die by the crowd’s opinion.

At about 8 o’clock I ran into Michael Hancock, owner and head brewer of Dennison’s, and Matt’s mentor of sorts. He congratulated me on the beer, which he thought was excellent. “I would have done the same thing,” he said of my decision to release it. I suddenly was able to pull my heart out of my shoes (where it had been parked most of the day), and walk around and chat with people. If Michael Hancock liked my beer, that’s all I needed.

Around 10:30 I got my first ever "Cinderella moment." Cass Enright, the man behind The Bar Towel, came to announce the winner of the award for “Best Beer at the Fest” as voted by attendees of the night. “Beau’s All Natural’s Kölsch Bock” he announced, and I stood in stunned silence for what felt like 30 seconds. After accepting the award I got to spend the next half hour calling up the family. I got Micheal Hancock to call Matt to tell him the good news.

From being frozen to sitting in a bathtub to winning a really cool award, that little keg sure has made me proud.

Brewing Ain't For the Weak

"Brewing is @$%&! hard. Started brewing yesterday at 6am and finished at 1am the next morning. I'm back in h-town now."
--Steve

Here are some pics of Matt working very hard on batches of Lug Tread 2 and 3, and a moving self-portrait (upper left) of Steve taking a break.

Kölsch-Bock, or, anyone for a giant beer-flavoured snow cone?

It was a crazy week leading up to the launch of Lug Tread on Canada Day. The yeast challenges we had experienced (see Yeast of Burden entry below) had put us into a race against time to get this beer kegged and into the bars, and Murphy's Law dogged us once again.
The plan was for (sales guy) Phil to go with (brewer) Matt to Campbellford where they would finish cleaning our kegs and slapping the Beau's logo on them. (Apparently the bar/restaurant industry is a lot like a daycare—if it doesn't have your kid's name on it, it ain't coming back to you.) Then they would filter the beer into the bright tanks and keg it.
We optimistically figured that Matt and Phil could even brew up the next two batches Wednesday and Thursday, and still be back in Ottawa for the Lug Tread launch parties at the new accounts. As long as everything went according to plan, things would be great.
First, a piece broke off the bright tank. This took a (Monday) to fix, and then the tank needed to be cleaned (goodbye, Tuesday).
On Wednesday the filtering began, and that's when things got really crazy. I got a call on my cell phone that all was going great... then a second call to tell me that after 400 litres the filter clogged (just a little major clogging, it's still good)... then a third to say that by 700 litres we’d run out of filtering agent and nothing more could be done.
It was too late not to have beer ready. The news release was out, the articles in the press, the sales were made. We didn't have time to sample or test the batch, tweak it or wait for the next one. What we had to deliver immediately worked out to exactly 650 litres, so we kegged those first 700 litres and hit the road, Ottawa-bound, since we had a press tasting event scheduled in two hours.
We poured our own first sip just as members of the media started arriving, but what hit the palate was not at all like our home-brewed pilot batch. Our Lug Tread is a tribute to the very subtle Kölsch style from Cologne, Germany.
This batch, while very tasty, was anything but subtle. Assertive bitterness and mouth-filling maltiness were the dominant traits, with a notable alcohol flavour. In fact, it tasted more like a Bock or a Bière de Garde than a Kölsch.
While we stood there perplexed, back at the brewery Matt was discovering the secret of what we would later christen our Kölsch-Bock. Our double-jacketed unitank, with icy kosher propylene glycol coursing through its veins, apparently worked a little too well. A 150 litre "iceberg" had formed, effectively concentrating the remaining wort and giving the yeast little opportunity to settle.
So there you are, Kölsch-Bock in hand, CTV cameraman filming for a news piece to air at 11:30 that night and a couple dozen interested spectators looking for the reaction to your first sip of the beer you spent your lifesavings and two years preparing to get on the market. And despite being a great beer, it is SO not the Lug Tread Kölsch. What would you do?
To get a little philosophical, there is a reason why craft brewing is called that. It's an art. And like an original piece of artwork, every batch of craft beer is going to be a little bit different (okay, a lot different in this case). If we wanted beer that tasted blandly the same every time we tasted it, we would be happy to drink Molson or Labatt products. But the craft beer drinker craves adventure, and boldly goes where his or her friends don't dare.
There is an Ontario craft beer that I absolutely love. Some beer enthusiasts are critical of this particular beer because it is listed as a "[style censored to protect the brewer]," yet it does not strictly adhere to that style. I personally don’t care too much whether it conforms to style. I like it because the flavour is unique and quite enjoyable.
The thought of that unique beer was what ultimately guided our decision to launch this first batch of Lug Tread onto the market — because despite not being what we intended, it is still a unique and enjoyable beer.
Some people expecting a Kölsch might be disappointed that this does not adhere to the style, while others will enjoy this batch and will be disappointed when future batches do not repeat this taste. Like entrepreneurs have to do every day, we made a judgment call and took a risk. Now, I guess time will tell whether this was the right decision to make.
I do understand that if you walk like a duck and call yourself an ostrich, you will not meet expectations. But I think there is room for reasonable variance in brewing craft beer. I have great faith that the Beau's beer drinker will find this beer tasty and interesting, and will have fun experiencing how the beer evolves. Personally I not only accept this aspect of brewing, I enjoy it — it's kind of like watching a kid grow up.
Oh, and a warning: I can guarantee our next batch won’t be perfect either. And there will still be some tweaking on the batch after that. When we move into our permanent brewery, it'll be almost like starting from scratch. But between here and there, we plan to brew up better and better beers for you all to enjoy along the way.