Primal Brewing

Brewing is a prodigal child of agriculture and the culinary arts, an ancient and mystical craft, with a sophisticated technology that has developed around it. It is reasonable to assume that fermentation of grain was discovered by accident—perhaps some wild yeasts began the fermentation of warm, unintentionally wet grain and eventually somebody uttered the equivalent of “down the hatch”, altering the course of human history. One school of thought is that the consumption of fermented beverages began before the emergence of humans, since the eating of naturally-fermented fruit occurs among numerous animals (Dudley and Dickinson, 2004). It is possible that a human preference for alcohol or even alcoholism was favored through the selection of fermented fruits, and that the positive reinforcement of alcohol effects led to an evolutionary predisposition to find and ingest ethanol (Dudley, 2004). A genetic role of alcohol in early human evolution is anything but certain, however. Subhuman primates do not in fact prefer fermented fruit, and the presence of ethanol plumes around fruits appears to act as a deterrent to consumption by most apes and monkeys (Milton, 2004). Human alcohol production and consumption may therefore be learned behaviors, rather than predispositions of some sort, or evolutionarily selected traits (Milton, 2004).

Fermented grain was discovered by humans millennia before the identification of yeasts or other microbes, so stumbling upon fermentation may have seemed magical or divine. Regardless, most anthropologists estimate the first beer-like beverages to have been consumed about 8,000—10,000 years ago. Presumably this occurred when grain became saturated with dripping water and wild, airborne yeasts to begin working on it, resulting in an ethanol-laced product of some novelty and considerable interest.

Evidence of intentional fermentation of beverages comprised of rice, honey, and fruit and produced 9,000 years ago was found a few years ago in China and published in the prestigious Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (McGovern et al., 2004). The discovery of clearly identifiable residues of these organic materials lining pottery jars from the Neolithic village of Jiahu, northern China, has forced us to rework our understanding of the historical timeline of deliberate fermentation and to some extent probably that of the hospitality industry as well. We now know that Chinese fermented beverages were in production about 9000 years ago—about the same time as grain domestication is believed to have begun in the Middle East. Did the incorporation of fermentation into human culture arise simultaneously in multiple places, or is it a remnant of earlier times that radiated around the Earth with humanity?

In Jiahu, some alcoholic beverages were buried in bronze vessels with high-ranking individuals, suggesting cultural and social roles for fermented substances. The Jiahu beverages are among the oldest established ancestors of modern wines and beers. It is believed that the Chinese method involved treatment of rice with molds to break starches down into sugars—an unusual method of modification which is still in use. Sam Calaglione—owner of the Dogfish Head Brewery in Delaware, USA brewing pioneer and producer of beer-scented shampoos and soaps—has done a limited production of a fermented beverage that is his reproduction of and tribute to the historic 9000 year old beverage from Jiahu. This seasonal specialty beverage, Chateau Jiahu, has been produced by Dogfish Head for the past few years.

The combination of nutritional content and the pharmacological actions of alcohol in these early beverages undoubtedly generated some lore and led to further experimentation during Neolithic times. Certainly the serendipitous effects of wild yeast on wild grain could not have produced anything that strongly resembles modern beer, but nevertheless the appeal and excitement of the early fermented beverages must have been considerable. Events in Jiahu doubtlessly contributed to the development and dispersion of both wine and beer production technology—a form of applied science that must have had a considerable shock value.

Despite the paragraphs above, archaeological evidence for very early brewing is relatively scarce. There were no receipts or advertisements in those days and unlike people like you and me, stone-age brewers evidently did not keep good, indelible, and permanent logbooks of their brewing activities. The domestication of barley is believed to have occurred around 8000 BC in the Middle East, and some lively academic debate has focused on the question of whether the initial cultivation of these grains may have been specifically intended to provide materials for the production of alcoholic beverages. An article in Scientific American in the early 1950s led to a debate about the purpose of the earliest propagated grains, either for brewing or breadmaking (Braidwood, 1952). Among enthusiastic participants in the inconclusive debate that followed, some felt that domestication of grain and even the emergence of civilization in the Neolithic era may have occurred as means of cultivating materials for use in beermaking. The arguments that beer is the primary cause of civilization are intriguing, if not ennobling. Although it is tempting to attribute everything to beer, and some of us have lapsed on occasion in that direction, this is an assertion with a jovial undertone that has never been substantiated by evidence. In fact evidence to support or refute this theory is inconclusive to nonexistent. Also, pottery may not have been developed early enough to be available to the majority of potential Neolithic brewers (Kavanaugh 1994) and consequently large brewing and fermentation vessels were probably in critically short supply. Some gourds, animal skins, and possibly other vessels were available, but it is reasonable to assume that there was a paucity of glycol-jacketed stainless steel cone-bottomed fermenters then.

The relationship of beer and bread goes well beyond the similarity of their ingredients and their respective contributions to the communal living of humankind. Some folks consider bread and beer to be competitors, racing somehow to develop and to capture human favor, but it seems equally likely that the use of both grain products could have prospered from the attention. It is reasonable enough to presume that cakes of grain or dough that could have been used for making alcoholic beverages could also have been eaten, so the technology for making bread and beer may have originated simultaneously, and may be parts of the same practical knowledge-base. The first breads were unleavened breads or flatbreads, which have developed in grain-producing regions worldwide (Alford and Duguid, 1995). Beer, which evidently originated and spread similarly, has historically been called “liquid bread” by some cultures, even in modern times (Katz and Voigt, 1986). The nutritional content of beer is enhanced by the synthesis by yeasts of vitamin B-complex, and beer also contains vitamin B-12, thiamin, riboflavin, vitamin C and a range of trace minerals (Heath, 2000). The same author asserts that the high glucose tolerance factor in brewers’ yeasts helps consumers utilize glucose more efficiently, and that beer consumption can thereby reduce circulating cholesterol and triglyceride levels. So perhaps the “beer belly” is some sort of a misnomer, an artifact, or an optical illusion. In any event, it seems entirely plausible that the original production of beer may have been a corollary of or responsible for the emergence of flatbreads, since the earliest of flatbreads may have served double-duty in the food and beverage services.

Conclusive documentation of deliberate beermaking first appears in the form of Mesopotamian tablets, aged almost 4000 years; in these, the first of brewing recipes is arguably spelled out (Katz and Maytag*, 1991). This was a beer made from cakes of dough; some of the first flatbreads are also attributed to Mesopotamian culture (Alford and Duguid, 1995). Katz and Maytag (1991) not only described a Mesopotamian beer, they made one by doing their best interpretation of a 3800 year old recipe. Whether or not grain was domesticated for brewing, it is reasonable to suspect that because of its spiritual appeal and nutritional value, beer must have been a powerful motivator of nomadic cultures to be drawn into early villages. Or perhaps bunches of nomads wandered into villages, quaffed a few, hung out for a while, and forgot to leave …

Beer was a staple of Egyptian culture, and detailed Egyptian records provide insight into the considerable importance of beer in all levels of Egyptian society. Grain formed into a dough or a cake was used to make beer, and it was typically flavored with dates. Egyptian laws and records were numerous and elaborate, and they reveal that the penalties for overcharging for beer were severe. In fact they were lethal. Beer was evidently the beverage of choice after a long day of building pyramids and walking sideways, or providing the supervision thereof.

Citizens of ancient Greece and Rome were less enamored of beer than were the Egyptians, with avid wine-drinking having become the predominant form of imbibing in those locations. Some Roman authors wrote disparagingly about beer, suggesting that as a society, they were both aware of brewing technology and not especially fond of its products or its intoxicating effects. Nevertheless, the consumption of beer was very common throughout the provinces and especially so in the regions that were not warm enough to support grape production. Greek customs and language did give us the word “symposium”: an alcohol-drinking party featuring a wide-ranging philosophical discussion (Heath, 2000). Modern academicians still practice symposia avidly in the 21st century.

Beer was prominent in the Middle East during biblical times, leading some biblical scholars to suggest that the miraculous conversion of water-into-wine (the Bible; John 2) may have been a storied misinterpretation of the actual conversion of water into something ale-like in its character. Perhaps the Holy Grail had something in common with a beer mug, and the Last Beverage may have been less closely related to Pinot Noir than to Colt 45. This argument was not, however, included in the plot of The DaVinci Code (Brown, 2003) nor in the movie, “Sideways”.

These semi-tropical parts of Europe opted for producing and fermenting grape juice; a process that in its’ purest form differs distinctly from brewing beer. Fruit juices including grape juice are naturally rich in fermentable sugars which do not need to be altered in order to nourish yeasts and produce alcohol, as opposed to grains like barley that contain starches instead of free sugars. Consequently winemaking does not require conversion of starches into sugars and is therefore less elaborate technically than brewing. The distinctions between wine and beer are less precise in some cases, though; Belgian and other beers are often flavored with fruit juices, rice wine is made from grain, etc. (Heath, 2000). Ancient remnants of rice-based fermented fruit beverages found in China and discussed near the beginning of this chapter are interpreted as precursors to both beer and wine. Both beer and wine have been considered to be gifts of the gods by some cultures, and gods by others.

Brewing with grain emerged as a favorite means of making alcoholic beverages in cooler parts of Europe, specifically Celtic, Germanic, and Scandinavian cultures. These more northerly European cultures used wooden vats for brewing, unlike the Egyptian earthen pots, and the Scandinavian word Bjor gave rise to the Anglo-Saxon term “beer” (Bamforth, 2003). Beermaking took root and proliferated in Northern Europe over the past two millennia as those cultures grew, and beer and ale in various forms have remained favorite consumables and societal staples.

England and Germany emerged as dominant beer centers, and brewing technology has spread freely from these countries to other parts of the world, as well. English and German appetites for beer are ravenous, and the governments of both countries have historically contributed to the definition of rigorous standards of quality for the brewing trade. Home brewing led to community brewing, or pub-brewing and later to licensed or commercial brewing for distribution, and such practices have been overseen by taxation and regulation in these countries for approximately a thousand years.

Traditional British alemaking was both widespread and popular, and it originally lacked hops. German beermaking has relied upon hops enthusiastically since about the year 1000, and the famous Bavarian Reinheitsgebot was a consumer protection law enacted in 1516 that specifically permitted only water, malted grain, and hops to be used in brewing. This originally Bavarian law has been expanded to account for our advancing knowledge of microbiology (yeasts), but it is still in effect throughout Germany, and is often cited as the oldest consumer protection law in the world.

The adoption of hopping for English beer may well have been an idea imported from Germany, although the historical details are not especially clear. It is nevertheless possible that hops may have become the favorite flavorant of English beer in part because of the appeal of hops as a preservative. Hops may also have been more readily available and affordable than some of the numerous botanical materials that were in use for flavoring beer in England earlier. Before the advent of hopping in England, a more complicated botanical blend (herbs and spices) known as gruit was used to flavor ales. One favorite theory is that the complex and bitter tastes of hops and their practicality as a preservant helped to win over some of the more reluctant brewing markets.

English brewing styles are widely accepted classics in beermaking, or perhaps more accurately alemaking, and traditional Western brewing contests almost always include a variety of classes that are based on them. Several examples of British styles are included in this book’s instructional brewing exercises.

Germany contributed not only hops and some important advances in consumer protection to brewing, but this culture also promoted the popularity of the fermentation of a separate class of beverages at cooler temperatures. This process, called lagering, uses a different strain of yeast than the traditional British ale yeast. Saccharomyces cerevisiae is used to make ales, and a yeast until recently recognized as a different species—S. uvarum—is the variety that works at lower temperatures to make lagers. Lagering started in German and Bohemian monasteries and has subsequently spread worldwide. The yeast used to make lagers sinks rather than floats during fermentation, and finished lager beer is characteristically lighter and cleaner-tasting than ales. Lager yeast was reputedly smuggled out of Eastern Europe by a shrewd and wily monk, in the form of a sample of the yeast slurry that settles in a brewing vat or a mature beer. It is possible that this sample may have been hidden in the sleeve of the monk’s robe. True or not, it would make a good screenplay.

* Mr. Maytag currently presides over the Anchor Brewing Company in San Francisco.