Alcohol cannot exist without a sugar source, and to produce enough alcohol for human consumption—a batch of beer, say—there needs to be a good amount of sugar, whether from one of the many sources found in nature, or industrially processed sugar. Each sugar, combined with varying flavorings and yeasts, produces a different type of alcohol. The potency of an alcohol also increases with the amount of sugar. History’s first recorded successes in germinating grains and using malted grain to brew beer can be traced as far back as 1800 BC in the “Hymn to Ninkasi,” whose description of malting and brewing accurately portrays how the process is performed today. However, archaeological discoveries—including buildings constructed for the specific purpose of malting—dated to the very beginnings of grain agriculture more than 12,000 years ago give us tantalizing evidence for grain malting thousands of years before researchers’ first estimates.1 To understand the significance of this recent research, it helps to understand how malting works in modern times.
A field of barley in Oregon. Courtesy of Ian Sane, Flickr.
The Malting Process
How exactly is whole grain turned into a sweet liquid that can then be fermented into beer? To obtain the sugars from grain needed for brewing beer, you must first malt it. The process is generally the same whether it’s performed on a home scale or an industrial scale.
First, the grains—barley, wheat, or otherwise—need to be sprouted. Sprouting is encouraged by moistening with warm water (about 65°F/18°C) over a couple of days and in two or three successions, with a desired goal of about 45 percent moisture. Once the grains begin to swell due to the growth of an embryo in each kernel, it’s time to drain the water and dry the grain with heated air (usually a blower is used)—maintained at a consistent temperature of 55–60°F (13–16°C). During the drying process, the grain must be turned every few hours to prevent molding. On a small scale, you can accomplish this by simply drying the grain on low heat in an oven and turning it by hand. On an artisan scale, maltsters turn the grain every couple of hours, either by shovel in cases where the grain is laid flat on a concrete floor to a depth of about 6 inches (15 cm), or turned in the tank in which it was malted. Industrial systems use automated stirrers. Care must be taken to break up any clumps of rootlets (referred to as bricks) to keep the grain from molding. During this stage, which lasts about five days, the seeds begin to sprout and enzymes begin breaking apart the starch and protein molecules in each kernel.
The sprouting process will continue during brewing when it is restarted through the introduction of hot water to continue breaking the starch down into sugar (subsequently, the yeast will work together with the enzymes in the sugars extracted from the grains to turn it into alcohol), but for now the process needs to be halted. When little shoots begin to sprout from the grain kernels—the same as when you moisten a seed for gardening and it begins to sprout—the grains are dehydrated in a kiln at temperatures ranging from 115°F (46°C) to as high as 210°F (99°C). This brings the moisture level down to about 3 percent, halting the embryos’ growth, but also imparting stability and varying degrees of flavor and coloring.2 The kilning stage—in both style and temperatures used—is tweaked by each malt house to develop unique, often proprietary characteristics. Munich and Vienna malts, for instance, may come from the same grain source—barley—but the process by which they’re malted is what provides for the unique flavorings they impart in beer.
A malt floor at Laphroaig Distillery in Scotland. Courtesy of Stephan Ridgway, Flickr.
After kilning, further character can be introduced by roasting, smoking, and other techniques. The primary sugar providers are known as base malts, and are set aside while the rest of the grain is developed into specialty malts. These are used chiefly for flavoring, and provide each malt house with its own claim to fame. The number of specialty malts available when I started homebrewing was somewhat limited, but now with the Internet and the rise of artisanal malt houses, the breadth of available malt varieties harks back to the olden days when every region or farmhouse malted and roasted its own specialty grains and brewed its own unique beer. Admittedly, you would have to travel for days or months to truly experience all that variety, but it would be a fun trip! The range of nuances possible in specialty malts is quite broad. Not all varieties are readily available (see tables 3.1 and 3.2 for some of the more common ones), but many are simple to reproduce at home by roasting your own grains.
Malt Your Own Grain at Home
It’s quite simple to malt your own grain. All you need are whole, unhulled grains, water, and a bit of patience. Barley works best due to its high potential for enzyme conversion, but other grains such as sorghum or field corn (dried, not sweet and right off the cob) will work as well. I recommend starting with enough for a 1-gallon (4 L) batch of all-grain beer, as it will help you to understand the process before you try malting larger amounts. Once the grains are malted, you can follow my technique for 1-gallon all-grain brewing in chapter 8, and you’ll have the pleasure of being able to say that you made a batch of beer entirely from scratch! You can easily scale up from there. The whole process should take two to three days.
INGREDIENTS AND EQUIPMENT
2 pounds (1 kg) unhulled barley or other whole grain
Around ½ gallon (2 L) warm springwater or dechlorinated tap water (enough to cover the grains)
Widemouthed 1-gallon (4 L) or larger glass jar
Cheesecloth or dish towel with a rubber band, or sprouting lid (basically a lid with a fine-mesh screen)
PROCESS
To malt grain at home, start by soaking grains in water.
Next, drain the water, but keep the grains moist to ensure sprouting.
Once the grains start producing sprouts (tails), dry them with heat and store them, or brew with them right away.
Dry malted grains in an oven at about 150°F (66°C), or in a dehydrator.
Table 3.1. Barley Malts |
|
Malt Type |
Description |
Munich |
Large amounts in a grain bill will give the beer a light orange color and a toasty, nutty flavor. However, Munich has lower enzymatic power than Vienna, so use caution when determining how much to use in a grain bill. If you’re not a fan of malty beers, use in small amounts. Its color profile is broad, ranging from a rich orange to a dark reddish hue. |
Vienna |
Rich, caramel-like, and sweet (but not cloying when mashed efficiently). A more gentle malt aroma than Munich. Light to rich orange in color (depending on the amount used), Vienna imparts a milder toasty and nutty flavor than Munich. Can be used as most or all of a grain bill due to its high enzymatic capability for starch conversion. Popular in Munich-style beers such as Märzen lagers. This malt shows up a lot in beers made for Oktoberfest celebrations, particularly due to its tendency to make a highly drinkable and refreshing beer. |
Aromatic Munich |
Roasted longer than regular Munich for darker coloring and a fuller, richer flavor and aroma. |
Amber/ biscuit |
Lightly roasted while dry, ambers and biscuits are toasty and nutty with a subtle aroma. Although very similar, biscuit malts impart a slightly drier flavor profile than ambers. Popular in English ales. |
Brown |
In olden times brown malt was made by rapidly heating pale ale malt over an oak fire and then cooking until it reached a rich brown color. It was also the dominant malt in porter. Very nutty in flavor, it is ideal for (what else?) brown ales. It is roasted longer than amber for more color, flavor, and aroma. |
Chocolate |
Not actual chocolate, although it can be used alongside real chocolate in brewing. Its name comes from its chocolate-brown coloring and roasty flavor, akin to dark-roasted coffee. Can be a bit harsh, so use sparingly. |
Pale chocolate |
Less harsh than regular chocolate malt but still with the nice flavor and aroma of roasted coffee beans. |
Black/ black patent |
The darkest, bitterest of all malts. These malts are made by roasting—and nearly burning—pale malt at a high temperature until deep black in color. Use sparingly or look for the de-bittered version for a smooth, rich dark ale or stout. Even ¼ pound (113 g) in a 5-gallon (20 L) batch of beer can impart significant degrees of dark coloring and rich flavoring. |
Crystal/caramel |
Crystal (or caramel) malts are available in varying degrees of lightness and flavor. Created by soaking the malt prior to roasting, these malts can add some very interesting and unique flavors to beer. Lighter crystal malts can be used in higher percentages and still provide a clean, crisp flavor profile, while the darker malts should be used sparingly as they can become overbearing. |
Roasted barley |
Barley that is roasted before being malted. Milder than roasted malts, it has a tendency to impart acrid, dry flavors. A key component to dry Irish stouts. |
Acidulated |
Also known as sauermalz or sour malt. This is a malted barley that contains a small proportion (about 1 to 2 percent by weight) of lactic acid. It can be used to lower the pH levels of high-alkaline water, or to intentionally add a sour edge to beer. Very small amounts can impart a barely noticeable sharp, acidic edge, balancing out a beer that might be a bit lackluster otherwise. |
Smoked |
Just what it sounds like. Various smoked grains are available with flavors ranging from cherry-smoked to peat-smoked. German smoked malts are traditionally smoked over beechwood. If you already have a smoker, you can smoke grains in whatever fashion you desire. Most commercially available smoked malts have little to no “true” smokiness and may have been produced using liquid smoke. For a strong smoky flavor, or to emulate older styles, smoke your own. |
Note: This table is based on my personal experience, research, and discussions with brewers. While the core aspects of each malt’s description can be considered accurate, the flavor profile imparted in the final product is debatable. For instance, descriptions of Vienna from one brewer can sound exactly like descriptions of Munich (one is super malty and rich, the other less so) and vice versa. |
Table 3.2. Non-Barley Malts |
|
Malt Type |
Description |
Wheat |
Brewers can generally only find a few variations on malted wheat (those with milder flavor profiles), but wheat can be roasted by all of the same methods as barley. It doesn’t tend to be as popular as barley, though—except when pursuing a specific wheat-style beer such as Weizen or Berliner Weisse. In small amounts, wheat can improve head retention due to its high protein content. However, this quality, along with its lack of a husk, also causes it to gum up a mash tun, making for less efficient lautering process (the process whereby clear wort is drawn from the mash); rice hulls can help speed up the process. |
Rye |
Imparts a spicy, robust flavor to beer. As with wheat, few varieties are generally available to brewers. It also lacks a husk, so use sparingly or add rice hulls to the mash. |
Oats |
Commonly available unmalted, oats can be used as an adjunct to impart a soft, full mouthfeel. If you can find malted oats, use them to give your beer a granola-like flavor. As with wheat and rye, lacks a husk, so be prepared to curse or stock up on rice hulls. |
Sorghum |
Malted sorghum is hard to come across in the US, but the kind found in grocery stores (sugary juice that has been pressed from the cane and boiled down) works well as a substitute for the syrupy extract found in beer kits. |
Roasting Your Own Malt
Since specialty malts are generally used in small amounts, it’s not a daunting task to roast your own if you can’t find the variety you’re looking for in the homebrew store. Just follow some simple steps and roast at the appropriate length of time and temperature for your desired malt. You can also smoke your own malt in the same manner that you would smoke meat in a smoker.
Different complex chemical processes lead to different flavors through the various stages and temperatures of roasting. However, you need only be concerned with some basic parameters. One is that the high temperatures of roasting can kill the enzymes present in malt, which won’t be a problem if you’re simply roasting for flavoring and coloring qualities. If you choose to roast a base (fermentable) malt, consider adding some adjunct sugars or prepare to spend twice as much time to reach complete starch conversion during brewing.
To roast malt, all you need is a cookie sheet and oven (or an open wood fire if you wish to impart smokiness as well). Use unground pale or lager malt, spread the grains evenly at about 1-inch (2.5 cm) depth, set the oven’s temperature and a timer as appropriate for your intended outcome, and place the cookie sheet in the oven. Stir occasionally for an even roast. To increase aroma, mist the malt every few minutes with water, as roasting moist malt can result in a richer, more intense scent.
Crystal malt requires pre-soaking; misting won’t be enough. Soak crystal malt in dechlorinated water or springwater for 24 hours and then roast while moist in a deep pan such as a bread pan. Start at a low temperature (around 150°F/66°C) for an hour or more, raise to 170°F (77°C) for about another half hour, and then raise to 350°F (180°C) for at least another hour until your desired color is reached.
Always give any roasted grain a rest period of a week or two before using for brewing or you could impart some unpleasant flavors in your beer. The plethora of flavor variations possible by simply manipulating factors such as time, temperature, and moisture is astounding. Combining various grain types and then adding in the fermentation process, along with the use of hops, herbs, spices, and other ingredients … you can begin to see just why there are so many beer styles.
We can throw those styles out the window, though, and work toward creating our own unique styles. The more artisanal malt houses, farmers, and brewers work together in local communities across the United States (and, hopefully, the world!), the closer we’ll get to the days when every farmhouse and region had its own unique style.
Barley
Barley has long been the primary grain used for fermenting beer, although corn and wheat were some of the earliest grains used, going back to Neolithic times. Historians are conflicted as to whether or not barley is the oldest cultivated grain, but most agree that it is. Regardless, it is an ancient grain and has been extensively adapted for a wide range of climates. “Barley can grow inside the Arctic Circle and barley can grow in the tropics. There are varieties suited for Montana and Arizona, New York and Georgia, Tennessee and Minnesota. And all points in between,” wrote Gene Logsdon in his book Small-Scale Grain Raising.3 Barley doesn’t do quite as well in the American South, as it requires cool weather for ripening and prefers moderate moisture. While it is highly adaptable, it has its limits. In Kentucky, where I live, several local breweries and distilleries work to source all of their ingredients locally, but barley has to travel a bit. The problem with growing malting barley in the temperate climate of the southeast United States is that the high levels of summer heat and humidity can cause the grains to mold once harvested. To ensure that it fully dries before harvest, barley should be left on the plant as long as possible. This can cause problems for farmers who want to plant cover crops in time for winter, and leaves little time for harvesting.
Barley can be grown in two varieties: two-row and six-row. The two-row variety has only two spikelets on each stalk that are fertile and can germinate into seeds, while the other four are infertile. These two spikelets are consistently large and plump, though. Six-row varieties have six fertile grains, but the grains are smaller and less consistent in size, and don’t produce as much starch as two-row. Since we need fermentable starches to convert into sugar to make alcohol, it makes sense that two-row is the preferred choice for most brewers. Another advantage of two-row is that it contains less protein (nitrogen and beta-glucan),4 as too much prote in can cause cloudiness in beer, referred to as haze. The effect on the flavor is negligible, but who doesn’t like a glass of clear, sparkling beer?
The brewing industry and homebrewing community have both long preached that the best beer comes from two-row barley. However, six-row has in recent years been recognized as an acceptable alternative. Research into and experimentation with multiple varieties are key strategies for determining what works for a particular region. Andrea Stanley of Valley Malt in Hadley, Massachusetts, told me in a phone conversation that the difference between six-row versus two-row is not as critical an issue as it’s often made out to be. There are too many other factors to take into account in selecting an ideal grain for malting, she explained. “It was a much more important conversation when people were actually growing grains,” she told me. “If they grew a six-row variety that could be both a malting variety and a feed variety, then it made a lot of sense to have this conversation of six-row versus two-row because there was actually a market for feed barley. There’s no market for feed barley anymore.” She also feels it’s an issue of history and ingrained (my pun, fully intended) thought. “It used to mean more when six-row had higher enzymes.… All the modern two-rows have similar enzyme packages to six-row.” When people ask her about the two varieties, she likes to bring up that two-row is actually much older than six-row, as it’s closer to the wild barley that first grew in the Fertile Crescent. Six-row came about through selective breeding; it’s not what ancient brewers would have been using.
Adjuncts: Rye, Wheat, and Other Grains
While barley is the workhorse of modern grain-based beers, other grains can be used for added depth and flavor. Malted and unmalted grains of all kinds can be modified through techniques such as roasting, smoking, and souring to make for a more varied grain bill. While these additional grains can provide a degree of starch for conversion into fermentable sugars, they are primarily used for flavoring, coloring, and texture, and are referred to in the brewing world as adjuncts.
Barley has become the go-to for most modern brews in part due to its fermentable qualities but also because much of the modern brewing world has been so heavily influenced by Western brewing traditions that other grains have fallen by the wayside. Historically, people brewed with whichever grains were most prevalent in their area of the world, and found ways to convert the starch into sugar. This is why we have millet beers in Africa, rice beers in Asia, and high usage of rye, wheat, and oats (along with some barley) in Northern Europe. Even in the modern United States, major commercial breweries use up to 60 percent unmalted rice or corn as a substitute for barley in their grain bills to produce low-cost lager beers.
Rye and wheat are common adjuncts in homebrewing. Both belong to the same tribe (Triticeae, in the grass subfamily Pooideae) but have significantly different effects on a beer’s flavor profile. Rye is a fall-seeded cereal and is closely related to barley and wheat. It’s easy to grow, even on poorly nourished soil, and thus is often called “poverty grain.” It germinates rapidly, even at low soil temperatures, so it can continue growing into late fall. Early Scandinavians and Russians were fond of it for these reasons; it grew better than most other grains and was a trusted go-to in hard times. Its tendency to produce lots of leafy biomass makes it ideal for use as a cover crop for organic farming. Domesticated rye is younger than its cousin wheat, having been first domesticated (or so historians theorize) in Southern Asia, after showing up as a weed in wheat and barley fields. From there it traveled north to Western Asia and Eastern Europe, where it thrived in cold and wet environments. Historically, rye doesn’t appear in writing until around the Bronze Age (1800 to 1500 BC). Rye was referenced by Pliny as being one of the main crops of the barbarian tribes that eventually sacked Rome,5 along with barley, which the barbarians made into beer that the Romans referred to high-handedly as “rotted barley water.” An acquired taste (which I have acquired in spades) to some, rye can be used in beer to impart a spicy, robust flavor. When incorporating it into a grain bill for all-grain brewing, you will likely not want to use a large amount of it. This is for both flavoring and practical reasons, as it can become quite sticky.
Table 3.3. Alternative Grains Used in Brewing |
|
Grain |
Description |
Buckwheat |
Related to sorrel and rhubarb, buckwheat is not common in modern brewing, but was historically used by the Dutch for “black beer,” and in small quantities for a type of white beer. It is also sometimes used for kvass, a Russian beer (sometimes made as a non-alcoholic soda) fermented from stale bread. It is gluten-free, very aromatic, and doesn’t store well due to high fat levels. Use sparingly. |
Maize (corn) |
First domesticated from wild grass in Central America, in malted form it can be used to make tesgüino and in unmalted form to make chicha (the enzymes are provided by human saliva via chewing and spitting the kernels into a vat). Corn can also be used as an adjunct for American-style beers in small quantities. Due to difficulties in obtaining quality barley or wheat malt in colonial America, corn was used often in brewing, along with molasses and sorghum. |
Oats |
A late cultivar, oats originated as a “weed” in Western Asia like so many other grains, but the oats we use today more likely came from a wild oat domesticated in Russia and Germany. It was grown extensively in Northern Europe during the Middle Ages, and during the early settling of the US (it’s become less prevalent as a cash crop since the advent of 20th-century monoculture-intensive agriculture). If you can find it malted, use it for oatmeal stouts or for low-alcohol “small” beers. In unmalted form it imparts a thick, oily texture, and can cause difficulties with sparging. Both forms can be used to aid in head retention. Oat malt still has the husk attached, but unmalted oat may require the use of rice hulls. In unmalted form, use rolled, old-fashioned, or instant, all of which are precooked. Other forms require precooking. |
Quinoa |
Not common in North American beers, quinoa is related to spinach and beets, and is highly revered by Andean peoples, who call it the mother grain due to its high nutritive values. It is sometimes used as an adjunct in chicha. |
Rice |
Long used for rice beer and spirits in Asia, the American variety is primarily grown as an adjunct for the beer industry and has little aroma or flavor. Look around for specialty varieties from Asia. Used sparingly, rice can make for some nice flavor profiles. As mentioned previously, rice hulls can be purchased to aid in filtering thick, gooey mash during the lautering process (the process whereby clear wort is drawn from the mash). Use about 1 pound (0.5 kg) per 5 pounds (2.5 kg) of grains, or more if needed. |
Sorghum |
Often called the poor man’s grain, sorghum has long been recognized as an easily grown crop for use in hard times. Underappreciated during good times, it is a highly versatile grain and has a soft spot in the heart of most Appalachians. In early America (and today in Africa), sorghum beer was a nourishing traditional drink. It can be an acquired taste for modern Western beer drinkers. Use a lot of hops or other flavorings if you need help adapting to the taste. |
Spelt |
Related to durum wheat, spelt is an ancient grain more akin to rice. High in protein, the kernels are harvested and roasted for Grunkern, which is used to make nourishing soups and breads in Europe. Holland, Germany, and Belgium all have traditions of making beer with malted spelt, often along with wheat. |
Wheat shares rye’s affinity for cold, arid climates and therefore is a staple crop throughout the world. In North America it narrowly trails rice and corn in terms of volume produced. A highly versatile and nutrient-dense crop, it is used extensively for baking and in not-too-shabby amounts for brewing. A descendant of wild grasses originally found in Southwest Asia, wheat has evolved over time through cultivation and repeated sowing, first by hunter-gatherers and eventually by settled agricultural societies. This humble grass grew into a powerhouse of modern settled society through thousands of years of work by farmers, vigilantly going through the seeds at each harvest and selecting the largest, plumpest kernels for replanting.
Wheat is almost as viable as barley for use as a primary grain in brewing, as it contains a high percentage of enzymes once malted. Unmalted wheat, like unmalted barley, can be used in small amounts for color, texture, and, to a degree, flavor. It is most commonly used in witbiers and lambics, giving them their characteristic cloudiness and foamy head. It can also be used in small percentages to improve head retention in light beers. Malted wheat can be used in large percentages, but, like rye, can quickly become thick and sticky due to its lack of a husk and high levels of gluten. Careful filtering of the grain bed can help alleviate this. Unlike the sweetness that large amounts of barley malt can impart, a primarily wheat-based beer can be heavy in texture, but light in cloying sweetness, meaning the use of hops or bittering herbs to counteract sweetness can be minimized, and flavorings such as coriander, allspice, star anise, and orange zest (or the zest of other citrus fruits) can be used to create a light, zesty, and very thirst-quenching beer.
Oats, corn, quinoa, sorghum, spelt … the list of grains that have been domesticated by humans is rather long. Nearly every one of them can be used for brewing, some as the primary starch source, and others as adjuncts. For a summary of each and their recommended and traditional uses in brewing, see table 3.3.
Artisanal Malt Houses
Most malthouses in the 19th century began as attachments to breweries and distilleries to ensure their own malt supply. In 1833, there were 13,242 official malting licenses taken out in the UK for this purpose.… Since then, worldwide consolidation has occurred in the malting business.… Today, the top 20 worldwide malting companies are all sales maltsters, producing an average of five million pounds of malt daily.
—Dave Thomas, The Craft Maltsters’ Handbook6
The industrialization of malting and brewing caused the traditional malt house to go out of style, making the process almost invisible to the public. In the past, small-scale malting was the norm, performed along with other brewing and cooking tasks. An early description of the malting process provides a fair amount of detail as to how it was done. It’s interesting to note the steps that had to be taken to ensure a quality malt during the days before industrialization and climate control (although we can see how malting is already being done year-round on a larger scale):
The best barley … is steeped in a cistern, in greater or less quantity, by the space of three days and three nights, until it be thoroughly soaked … [then] the water is drained from it by little and little, till it be quite gone. Afterward they take it out, and, laying it upon the clean floor on a round heap, it resteth so until it be ready to shoot at the root end, which maltsters call combing. When it beginneth therefore to shoot in this manner, they say it is come, and then forthwith they spread it abroad, first thick, and afterwards thinner and thinner upon the said floor (as it combeth), and there it lieth (with turning every day four or five times) by the space of one and twenty days at the least, the workmen not suffering it in any wise to take any heat, whereby the bud end should spire, that bringeth forth the blade, and by which oversight or hurt of the stuff itself the malt would be spoiled and turn small commodity to the brewer. When it hath gone, or been turned, so long upon the floor, they carry it to a kiln covered with hair cloth, where they give it gentle heats (after they have spread it there very thin abroad) till it be dry, and in the meanwhile they turn it often, that it may be uniformly dried. For the more it be dried (yet must it be done with soft fire) the sweeter and better the malt is, and the longer it will continue.7
A simpler way of understanding and remembering the malting process was through rhyme. This 13th-century English poem, “The Treatise of Walter de Biblesworth,” sums it up nicely:
Then steep your barley in a vat,
Large and broad, take care of that;
When you shall have steeped your grain,
And the water let out-drain,
Take it to an upper floor,
If you’ve swept it clean before,
There couch [shovel into a heap], and let your barley dwell,
Till it germinates full well.
Malt now you shall call the grain
Corn it ne’er shall be again.
Stir the malt then with your hand,
In heaps or rows now let it stand;
On a tray then you shall take it,
To a kiln to dry and bake it.8
Before industrialization and our current understanding of the science behind the process, poor-quality malt was very common, to the point that laws, regulations, and taxes had to be instilled to prevent maltsters from distributing bad product. With all of the moisture inherent in the malting process, mold was very common (the smell of early malt houses was often described as “musty”), and malt could easily be dried out too much during the kilning and roasting processes. But folks had a hankering for beer, and persevered nonetheless. Over time, through much trial and error, the optimal times, temperatures, and techniques were perfected, just in time for brewers to scale up during the industrial era.
By the late 1600s and early 1700s, in-depth manuals were written on brewing (with substantial sections devoted to malting). What made these books stand out from earlier writing was the attention paid to quality control through careful scientific study and minute adjustments to temperature and environment. Not all brewers were so keen on these new approaches, though. Younger, innovative brewers were often chastised by their elders for bringing newfangled inventions such as thermometers and hydrometers into the brewery.9 This Luddite approach was to be artisanal malting’s downfall. Breweries were quicker to adopt new technologies, but maltsters stubbornly stuck to the manual, intuitive approach that worked well enough for them rather than succumb to the slide toward mechanization. As automation, kilning, and environmental-control technologies were developed, more and more agrarian maltsters were left in the wake of commercial brewing. Transportation that allowed for large amounts of malt to travel great distances, along with heavy industry taxation and regulations, was the final death blow. It was no longer viable to malt, brew, and sell beer all within one small region.
The Return of Artisanal Malting
Artisanal malting has experienced a comeback in North America via the craft malt movement. As with the local foods and craft-beer movements, innovators who want to return to the days of localized malting and brewing (along with a focus on well-crafted malt) are taking lessons from the past while not completely leaving behind modern technology and scientific understanding.
Andrea Stanley, along with her husband, Christian, launched Valley Malt in the small agricultural town of Hadley, Massachusetts, in 2010. The first malt house in New England in more than 100 years, Valley Malt has more than quadrupled its production size since opening, and continues to grow due to demand from consumers and breweries thirsty for beer made from all-local ingredients.
In 2009 Andrea, a social worker at the time, and Christian, a mechanical engineer, began to look into starting up a malt house after wondering why, with all of the grain being grown around them, none was being malted for brewing. They quickly discovered that there were simply no facilities nearby to use for malting. While small malting facilities in Europe and the British Isles have continued through the industrial revolution, America’s localized malt houses vanished with Prohibition. Until the artisanal malt house movement, the only malt that could be purchased by brewers and distillers on any scale came from massive industrial operations located mostly in the midwestern and western United States and Canada, or shipped from Europe. Andrea and Christian had a monumental task ahead of them.
Andrea began doggedly researching the malting process and pursuing as many leads as she could with local grain farmers, librarians, historians, and college professors—earning the nickname of Stalker Babe. Christian, meanwhile, spent what free time he had researching the technical aspects of building a malting system, ultimately cobbling together a small all-in-one tabletop system that enabled the couple to hone their malting skills and test their malt by brewing beer. After fine-tuning the prototype, Christian designed and built a 1-ton system based on the prototype. He outsourced the steel cutting, rolling, and welding, and built an electronics-control system for monitoring temperature and moisture levels. The system worked well but they needed a larger version to meet their growing needs, so they elected to retire the all-in-one system and switched to a three-part vat-malting system: one for steeping, one for germinating, and one for kilning. Everything in the new system runs on pneumatics (which uses forced air to germinate the malt), allowing them to focus more of their time on running the business.
Obtaining enough grain to provide all-local malt was the next hurdle. What had once been a commonplace practice—growing, malting, and brewing grains all in the same general vicinity—was practically nonexistent due to the globalization and industrialization of agriculture. But before they knew it, Andrea and Christian were growing grains on a small scale, and experimenting to determine the ideal varieties for malting. Finding farmers willing to produce and store the grains they needed in the fashion required for creating quality malt was tough. Most were tied up in production for bakeries and cattle feed. Local farmers wanted to help, but growing grains for malt just wasn’t a viable prospect at the time. They began to get creative, and looked for what was already available from local farmers. Since not many locals were growing barley (until they convinced some farmers to grow it for them), they went with the ample wheat supply and began malting wheat. This allowed for a localized character in beers brewed from the grains they malted. In turn, consumers were willing to pay a bit extra to drink something truly local.
Andrea and Christian are now able to generally acquire the types of grains they—and their brewing customers—want, in part by sharing the risk with some farmers by purchasing the seeds for the grains they want to grow. They also started a brewer-supported agriculture (BSA) program, based on the community-supported agriculture (CSA) concept. For BSAs, brewers help fund the production and malting of the grains they in turn make into beer.10
In 2013 Andrea helped found the Craft Maltsters Guild (CMG), after finding other people across the country interested in starting malt houses but lacking the resources to do so on an artisanal scale. The guild provides a centralized set of resources and networking opportunities for artisanal maltsters, and in five years has grown to include malt houses (including breweries and distilleries with their own malting operations) across the United States and Canada, with over 30 active members, including Blacklands Malt in Leander, Texas; Eckert Malting & Brewing Co. in Chico, California; Riverbend Malt House in Asheville, North Carolina; Haus Malts in Cleveland, Ohio; Horton Ridge Malt in Hortonville, Nova Scotia; and Peterson Malt in Monkton, Vermont.
Peterson Quality Malt
Andrew Peterson’s farm and malt house are nestled in the countryside of the Champlain Valley, at the foot of the Green Mountains, just south of Hinesburg, an idyllic Vermont town with signs offering fresh eggs, cheese, and maple syrup.
Locating Peterson Quality Malt here was intentional. Andrew wanted to avoid what many breweries and some malt houses have done, setting up shop in a warehouse in an industrial area. “I felt that if I was going to do this, I wanted to walk outside and see farmland, not a bunch of buildings and traffic,” he told me. Pulling into his driveway, I felt immediately at ease. I grew up on a farm (and spent some periods of my life working warehouse temp jobs), so commercial and industrial areas don’t gel with me. I felt an immediate affinity with Andrew as well. Laid-back, with shaggy reddish hair and a beard, he could be my twin.
At the time I visited, Andrew malted only barley, wheat, and rye, but was looking into malting some adjuncts; he just needed to convince some farmers to grow these for him. After quickly attending to various electronic beeps that he says pull him in every direction throughout the day, he took me into his environmentally controlled germination room, which has two large, rectangular, stainless-steel, false-bottomed vats. Resting in one was barley that was currently in the germination stage. It was slightly moist; you could see the telltale “beards” that keep barley’s hull intact. The room was cool, and a fan occasionally kicked in. Andrew explained that the temperature and the fan (which pulls out built-up CO2) help keep the barley from fermenting. As the malt germinates, Andrew and his assistants occasionally sift it to keep it from bricking up.
Peterson Quality Malt is a somewhat more mechanized operation than some of its peers. “Every micro malt house operates a bit differently,” Andrew told me. Since each started with few to no modern-day precursors to draw from for information and equipment, they all pieced together their operation in whichever way they saw fit. Some malt houses, like Asheville, North Carolina’s Riverbend Malt House, practice floor malting, where the malt is laid out on a concrete floor and raked with a large wooden rake. Peterson practices vat malting.
When we stepped back outside, Andrew showed me where they collect the excess water from moisturizing the malt, which is sent off to farms for increasing the nutrient content of manure. They also bag the culms from the culming machine and set it out for local farmers—who race to be the first to nab it for animal feed. Andrew then posed for a photo next to his smoker, which he uses for smoking meat and specialty malt.
Artisan malt houses enable homebrewers and craft brewers to brew more sustainably and locally, adding to the terroir (French for “earth” or “soil”) of beer. In the wine industry terroir is used to denote the effect of a region’s climate, soil, and other localized factors on the flavor of wine. With this new ability to source malted grains locally, the craft-beer industry can now proudly adopt this term. Not only do artisan maltsters like Andrew provide quality local grains, but they enable a more localized infrastructure, thus minimizing the use of fossil fuels. Craft malt houses also build relationships with local farmers and regional brewers, enabling progress toward a closed-loop production system. It’s a win-win-win for all.