IdiotBrewing
Member
- Joined
- Jun 27, 2016
- Messages
- 21
- Reaction score
- 43
We've all been there; you're just getting ready to sparge and someone (usually a significant other or a child, both of whom you can't really punch) strides into the kitchen/bathroom expecting to make tea/get washed/fill a bucket of water to put out a fire. You try and explain that you're at a pivotal part of the brewing process, but for them that doesn't matter. There's always some weak excuse: they're thirsty or they need to get to work or the house is ablaze.
At times like this, I've dreamed. Sometimes I dream of murder, must usually I dream of a brewery, my own space where others are forbidden to drink their petty problems, where the taps and electricity and gas belong to me, and where the creation of beer comes before all things.
When Mrs Idiot wanted to move to a God-forsaken place in the middle of nowhere to be near her family, I didn't insist on much. Well, I did, but one thing that I was insistent on was a brewery. I expected a box room or a corner of a garage or a pokey shed, but for some reason Mrs Idiot thought I wanted something grander. Oddly, I forgot to put her right!
The Idiot Brewery is an old stable block. Thankfully for me, the people who sold us the house had it converted into a workshop. They also used it at some point as an unlicensed bar for the local farmers, so it has a bar area and a kitchen bit.
It measures up at 36 x 12 feet, which is enough for me. In fact, I'm thinking of sticking in a wall to separate a bit off for a charcuterie kitchen. It has water, power and drainage along with a selection of shelves and the like.
The space will also be good as the new Idiot House also has an orchard, so there'll be a need for presses and scratters and the like. Cider and Perry from my own trees is too good an opportunity to pass up; it's a bit like meeting a beautiful woman and finding out she's a butcher! Happy days!
Of course, Mrs Idiot isn't going to allow me to spend all day in the brewery. She wants a new kitchen. That means that the old kitchen - including cupboards, work surfaces, extractor fans, ovens and sinks - will be making the move into the Idiot Brewery. Waste not, want not!
I have tried to cobble together a masterplan for the conversion, but that led to tinkering with malt, hops and yeast, and rather than planning developments I made some beer instead: a nice hop-forward IPA. I figure you have to make the stuff to identify the pros and cons of the new space.
The next attempt at planning the brewery layout resulted in a Saison infused with nettle tops. I think you can see how this will pan out!
I have now settled on a 'make it up as you go along' approach, allowing necessity to dictate the various developments. In truth, I can't think of a better way.
I have no doubt that this project could become a bit of a money-pit, one way or another. Still, as I tell Mrs Idiot, it's a damn sight cheaper than bigamy and there are plenty of men who have that as a hobby.
So, if anyone has any ideas, I'd be more than happy to hear them. After all, if my one head can create a chaotic brewery, imagine what multiple ill-conceived ideas will throw up!
At times like this, I've dreamed. Sometimes I dream of murder, must usually I dream of a brewery, my own space where others are forbidden to drink their petty problems, where the taps and electricity and gas belong to me, and where the creation of beer comes before all things.
When Mrs Idiot wanted to move to a God-forsaken place in the middle of nowhere to be near her family, I didn't insist on much. Well, I did, but one thing that I was insistent on was a brewery. I expected a box room or a corner of a garage or a pokey shed, but for some reason Mrs Idiot thought I wanted something grander. Oddly, I forgot to put her right!
The Idiot Brewery is an old stable block. Thankfully for me, the people who sold us the house had it converted into a workshop. They also used it at some point as an unlicensed bar for the local farmers, so it has a bar area and a kitchen bit.
It measures up at 36 x 12 feet, which is enough for me. In fact, I'm thinking of sticking in a wall to separate a bit off for a charcuterie kitchen. It has water, power and drainage along with a selection of shelves and the like.
The space will also be good as the new Idiot House also has an orchard, so there'll be a need for presses and scratters and the like. Cider and Perry from my own trees is too good an opportunity to pass up; it's a bit like meeting a beautiful woman and finding out she's a butcher! Happy days!
Of course, Mrs Idiot isn't going to allow me to spend all day in the brewery. She wants a new kitchen. That means that the old kitchen - including cupboards, work surfaces, extractor fans, ovens and sinks - will be making the move into the Idiot Brewery. Waste not, want not!
I have tried to cobble together a masterplan for the conversion, but that led to tinkering with malt, hops and yeast, and rather than planning developments I made some beer instead: a nice hop-forward IPA. I figure you have to make the stuff to identify the pros and cons of the new space.
The next attempt at planning the brewery layout resulted in a Saison infused with nettle tops. I think you can see how this will pan out!
I have now settled on a 'make it up as you go along' approach, allowing necessity to dictate the various developments. In truth, I can't think of a better way.
I have no doubt that this project could become a bit of a money-pit, one way or another. Still, as I tell Mrs Idiot, it's a damn sight cheaper than bigamy and there are plenty of men who have that as a hobby.
So, if anyone has any ideas, I'd be more than happy to hear them. After all, if my one head can create a chaotic brewery, imagine what multiple ill-conceived ideas will throw up!