Tag Archives: melbourne

2 Brothers Growler American Brown Ale

I am a fan of 2 Brothers, but never get to the brewery proper as they are marooned on the other side of the city. They won a suite of awards from 2010-13 and have strong distribution across bars in Melbourne. Basically, if you see a 2 Brothers beer on tap you can be assured that it won’t be too crazy, but will be reliably solid. Of course they do some exciting seasonal stuff but it is so rare to see that I basically discount them – when I think 2 Brothers I think American Brown Ale and Pilsner only; their two biggest beers. The rice lager gets about too but it’s not as tasty.

A mate left a bottle of Growler ABA at my place after brewing the Barley Mumme a few weeks ago. Tragedy when that happens!

The Growler presents in dark polished red hues, auburn to brown with a dwarf beige nougat head. The aroma is faintly hoppy, but mostly vanilla. Where this beer excels in it its luscious mouthfeel; creamy, satisfying, well-parked at the back of the throat. This provides a smooth path for light cocoa and roast flavours, with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg hitting the taste buds in follow up.

Delicate hop usage gives the beer a malt-forward profile. The Growler is a dangerously satisfying beer. Best in a nordic pint glass, at cellar temperature, on a cold day after working hard in the garden, the office or the brew shed.

I was given this bottle of beer and drank it at home.

Merri Mashers Brewing Demonstration

This video is promoting a recent brewing demonstration my club did at the Catfish, a relaxed bar with great beer, as part of Good Beer Week 2015 in Melbourne, Australia.

It was a fun day and good times were had by all. An earlier brew of the Red IPA recipe we were demonstrating was being served on tap inside and it took less than two hours to blow the fifty-litre keg.

Mort’s Pale Ale

In addition to detailing a recipe and beer, this is the first article and photo series on the blog that gives a general outline of my brewing space. The idea is that when I post recipes in the future this piece can be referenced by readers. It’s a bit of a blow-by-blow, but hopefully not too dull for a home brewing audience.

After many years on this giant rock I have come to the conclusion that every human should have an endless supply of hoppy Pale Ale at home. But how does one engineer an endless supply? By constantly brewing, of course! When I ran out of Pale Ale recently I decided to get serious and brew up the next batch with pictures – and on a week night, no less.

If you’ve checked out the brewing page on this blog you will see that my house Pale Ale (Tanji’s) is a 4-5% ABV beer, but for this batch I wanted to do something a bit heavier, a bit hoppier, using American rather than Australian hops. It’s a simple recipe with cheap grain, but that’s the beauty of the style.

I thought I would name the beer after a Terry Pratchett book given his recent passing. I wasn’t a huge Pratchett fan but I did read Mort when I was a teenager and loved it – I should really hunt down a copy and read it again (I do respect Pratchett hugely). This isn’t the first time I’ve named an experimental brew after a recent dead person. I made a rice lager when Võ Nguyên Giáp died, I may be cracking onto a theme. I’m not too morbid really but I do like the idea of drinking to the dead.

Mort’s Pale Ale
1060 OG, 1008 FG. 7% bottle ABV. WLP001.

Fermented at 17°C from:

55% :: Joe White Ale Malt
20% :: Joe White Pilsner Malt
20% :: Joe White Wheat Malt
5% :: Weyermann Melanoiden Malt

30m split mash (15m 70°C/15m 65°C) with calcium chloride.

30m boil:

– Irish Moss @ 10m
– Yeast Nutrient @ 10m
– 32 IBU of Chinook hops @ 0m.

I brew in a garage accessed from the backyard, usually accompanied by friends and with drop-ins by this little girl. This puppy is truly a champion brewmate: she generally keeps her opinions to herself, but will gently nudge with her nose when I am about to do something stupid like transfer wort to a fermentor with its tap open. Thanks Norva, you’re adorable.

For any non-Australians reading; yes, the shed in which I brew is infested with venomous redback spiders. I have even had the little mongrels drop down from the roof on me while I was brewing. I only saw one during this brew, but it was a big female (these are the ones to watch out for, the blokes are useless) and given most bites occur in the warmer months between December and April – in the afternoon or evening, i.e. right when I brewed this batch – I wasn’t taking any chances. Sorry little spidey, but it had to be done. You are now gone. What is life without death?

I bought the grain for this batch pre-milled from local supplier Full Pint, around the corner from the Kooinda Brewery. The grain bill is all pale base malts for a golden EBC with wheat and melanoiden for head retention and bubbles. I used Australian base malts because I try to keep things local on the boring beers and because they are cheap. I chose Chinook hops for this beer – I have used them many times over the years but never Han Solo . This is unusual for Australian home brewers as most usually SMaSH out all the American hops early on in their brewing journeys. My house Pale Ale – Tanji’s Pale Ale – is a single Australian hop beer, so I also thought it would be good for a comparison.

You can see below the bench where most of the brewing goes down. It’s pretty self-explanatory. Crown Urn, a few stainless pots, digital scales, corona mill, mash paddle, colander, brew cupboard. I have expanded my equipment a bit since this was taken but the fundamentals are the same.

I made this beer with a 15/15 split mash BIAB method (something I’ve been experimenting with and have since abandoned) in a Crown Urn. I don’t chill – the hot wort goes straight into the fermentor. I added some calcium chloride to the mash as this is a pale beer and I use regular Melbourne tap water. It is generally recommended to salt your water in this way down here when brewing low EBC beers. Many brewers don’t bother, and sometimes I don’t either, but from everything I’ve read it’s good practice.

The first mash was a breeze. This particular BIAB bag split the first time I used it; after being sewn up with cotton thread it has lasted for a further twenty brews – though I notice it is getting a little thin on the bottom. I use a jumbo-sized stainless steel mash paddle for easy stirring. I gave the mash a stir twice and mashed for fifteen minutes at 70°C.

While this was happening I filled my secondary mash vessel with hot water, aiming to hit 75°C. I usually have to add four to six litres of boiling water from the kettle, depending on the recipe, then touch up with cool water to the desired temperature.

I then transferred the grain into my secondary mash vessel, which has about a third of the water of the primary mash vessel. However, during transfer the grain brings over a substantial amount of water, with the aim of bringing the volume up to about 50% of total wort volume.

Unfortunately I didn’t raise the temp of the secondary strike water in time; the second mash took place at a measly 65°C. Alas alack! But a slightly drier body on this beer won’t be an issue.

At the mash’s end (15 + 15 = 30, so thirty minutes after mashing in) I removed the grain bag, placed it on a colander above the secondary mash vessel, donned a pair of thick PVC gloves and proceeded to squeeze every last millilitre of wort from the bag. I then recycled the spent grain into the compost, added the secondary wort back into the urn and ramped it all up to a boil.

I hunted around in my hop freezer for some Chinook and weighed it out on the kitchen scales, which has a handy backlight for dark evenings such as this.

These hops are getting a bit old but still smelt alright. The wort churned to a boil in fifteen minutes; I held it at a vigorous boil for twenty minutes while I got my bits and pieces ready.

At the twenty minute mark of the boil, ten minutes before finishing, I added some Irish Moss and Wyeast Yeast Nutrient to the urn. Then I went and found a fermentor – I chose my last two 30l water drum (I have slowly converted all vessels to stainless steel) – and gave it a good scrub and clean with hot water and sanitiser. I threw the hops into the bottom of the fermentor and set it up for wort transfer.

At the thirty minute mark I drew off some wort into a jug for a yeast starter and set it aside in the freezer to cool. At the same time I took a vial of WLP001 out of the fridge and set it on the bench to reach room temperature. Then I hooked up the silicon hose, flicked the tap and let the smooth, syrupy wort flow. I usually mash quite a cloudy wort with this system but it doesn’t affect the clarity of the beer.

When the urn had emptied I spread some industrial-strength glad wrap over the top, sealed it with an o-ring and pushed the fermentor under the bench to cool overnight. I retrieved the starter wort from the freezer when it had reached an acceptable temperature and drew some off to check the gravity.


It relaxed at 1060; later I plugged in the numbers and saw this gave a mash efficiency of 75%, within my acceptable ball park. I then returned the wort back into the jug and took the WLP001 I had set aside earlier. I pitched a third of the vial of WLP001 into the jug, gave it a swirl and glad-wrapped it. I put the remaining WLP001 back in the fridge for another day, banged the jug of starter wort on the bench, and locked up the garage for the evening.

Exactly 24 hours later, when the wort had reached ambient temperature, I pitched the starter into it. I let the yeast get a hold overnight, then put the fermentor into the fermentation fridge, replacing a Red Ale that had been fermenting in there from a brew earlier in the week.

I set my temperature controller to 17°C and let the yeast do its thing while I went away for an epic Buck’s weekend. When I returned 60 hours later the yeast had risen, hit krausen and was deflating. Fermentation was raging.


Bottling went smoothly – the sample from the hydrometer read 1008, giving an ABV of 7%, and tasted clean, piney, of course green and a touch alcoholic.  It should clean in the bottle.  I used dextrose to bottle prime as usual.  I filled a few 2l growlers, a couple of large 2.25l soda bottles and the remainder of the beer in 750ml longnecks.

A few weeks later the time for tasting had arrived.

It looks good, a gleaming gold and cloudy yellow with mellow lemon, pine and lime hop aroma. It is still a little young in terms of clarity and carbonation – although enough time has passed to carbonate the beer with yeast, it has been stored in cool temperatures (~11°C) so hasn’t fully sparkled yet. Still, the head retained well with lovely lacing thanks to the wheat.

The beer is light on the lips and in the mouth. Malt aroma is non-existent and malt flavour is subtle and restrained, piggybacked by a light alcohol burn. It is barely bitter, dry and refreshing – a nice summer beer (pity it’s winter!). There’s a firm lemon hop flavour up front and centre – an unusual one, it doesn’t taste at all like I was expecting from Chinook.

The aroma is spot on, if a little less punchy than I would like, and the alcohol taste is a bit too dominant but I think this Pale Ale will age well. It should be perfect in another month.

Lastly, I was surprised at how similar this beer is to my standard Tanji’s Pale Ale – as it uses completely different hops. It is hopped in the same way however, i.e. most hops added to the wort after the boil, when temperature is around 90°C.

Boatrocker Hop Bomb IPA

Boatrocker launched out of the world of contract brewing in 2012-13 with a production site down in the outer south-east suburbs of Melbourne. A husband-and-wife team, the brewery boasts three regular beers – all very well regarded around Melbourne – and supposedly a flow of seasonal releases, though I am yet to encounter any. If there is a theme to Boatrocker’s range of beers it would be a skew towards New World, hop-heavy bitter ales. This reflects mainstream craft beer appreciation as a whole and certainly wouldn’t hurt their bottom line.

The Hop Bomb IPA is a yeast-neutral soapy, hearty beer with a deep sandalwood tinge. Its mild head interacted creamily against my moustache, leaving a dry, cleansing afterfeel. My pint’s flavour was excellent: fresh hop notes, medium bitterness, not too heavy, one of the more balanced IPAs around with only wee crystal. The hop combination was either lucky or very well planned: Chinook, Centennial, Amarillo, Simcoe, and Cascade together shower the beer with a slightly smarmy pine, rosemary aroma that quenches thirst by smell alone.

It may be called a hop bomb, but the 6.5% ABV belies it: this is no heavy torpedo. It’s more of a flower bomb, a bath bomb. A burst of synesthetic colour on a green canvas. Divine.

I relished this succulent beer at Lot 347, Collingwood.