It was a brisk, chilly winter’s afternoon in midtown New York City. I had been in the city and Long Island visiting local brewpubs and homebrewers, and on this particular afternoon my editor, Stephen Power at Avon Books, had invited me to drop by to see him and have lunch at a small Italian restaurant. He had an idea he wanted to pass by me. The traffic outside and the waiters and waitresses inside scurried around, relatively oblivious to the quiet conversations at each table. “I’ll have a—beer, please.” “I’ll have the same,” added Stephen. What beer did we choose? Well, if the brewer ever asks, I’ll confess, but that will be between Stephen, the brewer and me, for the time being.
Now, what was this idea? “I came across the Wall Street Journal’s article about your Association of Brewers’ announcement of The World Beer Cup…What about a book on brewing the winning recipes?” That was halfway through the first beer.
My immediate reactions were two. Why didn’t I think of that? and How the hell am I going to be able to formulate nearly sixty recipes and maintain my credibility? I finished my beer and had another. Things became clearer.
It’s not my full-time job to think of ideas for books. The first question was easy to answer. Stephen was good at his job. Now then, could I do it? After all, I truly admire and respect the brewers around the world and the quality of their products. The idea of attempting to formulate and present 5-gallon recipes that match the character of their beer was, well, intimidating. I had always invented my own recipes before. I’d hardly ever tried to duplicate someone else’s beer. The challenge intrigued me. I thought of having another beer, but I knew better. So I did. “Let me think about this one, Stephen. I know it could be done. It’s whether I can make a quality presentation and feel I’ve ethically represented both the World Beer Cup and the winning beers and breweries in a fair fashion, while offering practical and useful information to homebrewers.” Those weren’t my exact words, but surely these thoughts whirled in my head at such a grandly bold project.
One month later I decided. Yes I would. What remained so uncertain was whether I could really formulate recipes from just tasting the beer. This was the bottom line. There was a possibility I would have to rely solely on my own skills as a brewer and taster. Yes, I would ask each of the winning breweries for technical information regarding ingredients and measurements, but how forthcoming would they be? What if none of them was willing to divulge information, considering it a trade secret? Then I thought, “Hell, I’ve been brewing for twenty-six years and that’s got to be worth something.”
The World Beer Cup was staged in June of 1996. The winners were announced and my work began. But I really didn’t realize the magnitude of what I had gotten myself into until the van delivered to my home fifteen cases of beer, two bottles each of the first–, second– and third-place winning beers. They were cold when they arrived and were immediately placed into a 6-by-9-foot walk-in cooler that I had just finished having constructed especially for these beers. The fifteen cases of beer secured, I slammed the cooler door shut. As the delivery van pulled away that warm Tuesday summer afternoon, I sat on a wooden crate. I can’t quite sort out exactly what I was feeling. I don’t think I ever will. Was it total elation, joy, and whoopee? I was going to have to drink 146 different kinds of the best beers in the world at my leisure at home. Or was it an overwhelming feeling of despair and hopelessness overcoming me? I had to taste and take notes on 146 different beers and formulate recipes for 52 of them.
I was in a quandary, so 1 poured myself a bottle of homebrew, looked at it, smelled it, drank the whole thing, and then resigned myself with a sigh. “Oh well, it’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.”
And this is how the summer of 1996 officially got under way for me and my favorite tree. You see, I was thinking of each and every one of you who are homebrewers, beer enthusiasts and professional brewers every time 1 poured myself one of those beers. You would have often found me outside at the picnic table on my deck, tasting four to eight beers at a sitting, laptop computer positioned front and center, emitting its eerie light onto my face, my special tasting glass always within arm’s reach, as well as a pitcher of water for rinsing glasses and the Styrofoam box maintaining the beer’s chill. I was thinking of you every time I finished evaluating one of those 146 different and remarkably great beers. The pleasure was all mine, but only two or three ounces at a time. Oh yes, I thought of all of you each time the remainders went shooting into the air, cast over my shoulder, splashing against what has become for me over time a very special tree. The tree’s roots awaited the agitated white and brown beer foam that trickled down its trunk and into the ground. That summer it was a very happy tree.
But now it’s your turn to experience what my friend the beer tree enjoyed all summer long. Using your skills as a homebrewer in conjunction with my recipe formulations and tasting notes, I believe that you, too, can enjoy the authentic character of some of the world’s best beers. The most important thought to keep in mind is that a recipe does not a beer make. A beer is made using the skills of a brewer and the interaction of ingredients, process and packaging—all unique circumstances for every brewer in the world. The influence that equipment, process control and particular ingredients have on the final product cannot be underestimated. All of us as brewers have developed our own techniques and equipment adaptations. In many cases these recipes will only be a beginning point for achieving the winning character. For many of you the first attempt at using these recipes will be an unparalleled success. Surely each time you will brew excellent beer. But getting the exact balance of characters may take time as you adjust these recipes to conform to your own manner of brewing. That is what the craft of homebrewing is all about—knowing when and how to adapt to achieve the desired end.
Without any doubt in my mind, the most important thought I wish to convey to each and every one of you is the admiration I have for all of the brewers who entered the World Beer Cup. The entries were statements recognizing their own pride and the pride they have in the international brewing community. Theirs was a gesture stating, “I think my beer is good enough to represent the brewing community and is worthy of being recognized as such.” When a beer and a brewery win an award in the World Beer Cup, they then represent the quality all the world’s brewers strive for. They become ambassadors for all the world’s porters, Pilseners, bocks, brown ales…all lagers and all ales. It is the brewing community’s quality we try to replicate as homebrewers. And in turn, the professionals often try to replicate the quality of our homebrews.
—Charlie Papazian
Boulder, Colorado, USA