Beers and Beards-Chapter 25Book 4: : A Juicey Situation

Fresh pressed apple juice never quite looks like what you expect.

This was made immediately evident when one of the dwarven apprentices looked into the gently spinning liquid as it poured out of the press and asked, “Is it supposed ta look like tha contents of me stomach?”

“Aye, and never say it like that again,” I grumbled. “Until we filter it a bit finer, it’ll have that cloudy look to it.”

“It really doesn’t look like apple juice at all,” Mirelda mused, staring at the brown liquid.

“Mmm, tha stuff you’d buy in tha store was filtered and usually sweetened too. Almost as bad as pop, really. You had to go to the speciality aisles to get the farm fresh squeezed apple juice. That was the good stuff.”

I was keeping my [Lesser Crafter’s Eye] on the pulp as it was thrown into the press. The Ability combined some basic Manasight with an overlay that pointed out any defects or errors that I’d be capable of spotting on my own. It was mostly a time saver, but I loved it.

“Less pulp in that batch please.” I said, as the press glowed red. “Too much, and it won’t properly squeeze all the juice out.”

The brown robed apprentice nodded and scooped some of the pulp out, then returned to spinning.

“You’re a good teacher.” Mirelda said, smiling. She’d finally taken the beard off when the morning turned to afternoon, as the heat combined with her sweat made the bushy thing itch.

“Eh, I’d rather be doin’ it meself. But there is a certain pleasure in watchin’ the younger generation do it.”

I thought back to my little Samantha and smiled. She’d never really been into brewing as much as Caroline or I, but she’d definitely loved drinking fresh grape and apple juice.

Mirelda glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and smiled as well. We stood watching the apprentices grunt and swear as they spun the press, forcing the turbid liquid out between the slats and into the collection carboys.

The heady scent of fresh apple juice, sweet and cloying, filled my nostrils. It smelled like Christmas and apple pie.

Each time the students finished a batch, they had to take the press apart, one slat at a time, and remove the now solid cake of dry apple pulp.

“Are you going to use the leftovers as fertilizer?” Mirelda asked, pointing at the growing stack of dried apple pulp.

“It’s called pomace, and yes, but there’s a lot of uses for it, actually. I plan to give it to the students, or maybe even sell it in the shop when it's done.”

“Pomace…” Mirelda tried the word on her tongue. “That’s… not dwarven, is it?”

“That or ‘marc’, which I consider a stupid name.”

Mirelda snorted. “Really? Why?”

I grinned. “It’s a black mark, nyuk.”

“Hardy har. What’s it good for?”

“Lots! Pomace is the dried pulp of olives, grapes, apples, or any other fruits after you press them. It contains the leaves, seeds, skins, and anything else that made it in.”

Mirelda held up her hand. “Hold up. Olives are a fruit? Next you'll tell me olive oil is just fruit juice!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yes? It’s got seeds in it? Grows on trees? They’re practically the Greek version of cherries.”

She looked thoughtful. “Huh… I just never thought of the pit as a seed.”

“Sure is. Anyways, Pomace can be ground ta make Pectin, which is used in Jams and Jellies, and some skin creams. Pomace also makes fer a good fire source, ‘specially Olive Pomace, which makes a nice smell when it burns. The ancient Greeks and Romans used it as an alternative to charcoal. Mostly though, it can be used fer brewin’ piquette and ciderkin.”

“Ciderkin?” Mirelda tittered. “Alright, what is that, and what fantasy author came up with the name? And has anyone ever told you that you’re a font of esoteric brewing knowledge?”

I shook my head. “No fantasy! Ciderkin has a long and storied history as a drink for guests and children. Piquette uses grape Pomace, and Ciderkin is made from apple Pomace. They’re both made the same way; soak a puck of pomace in a big pot of water for a few days, and you get a really weak wine or cider.”

“So it's… watery apple juice?” Mirelda asked incredulously.

“Eh, more watery apple cider. It was meant for children, guests, or day labourers. It was safe to drink, since the alcohol killed anything nasty in the water, but it wouldn’t get you drunk.”

“Still, it sounds rather un-apeeling.” She grinned.

“Ha! It was common to add some molasses, mint, or ginger to add a bit of zest to it. I’m not surprised you never heard of it, since it wasn’t exactly sitting on shelves in the liquor store. You’d need to ask local cideries for some. They usually had some in stock for the kiddies, or for refreshing summer drinks for the locals.”

“Well, it seems worth a try. Can I have some?” Mirelda asked, picking one of the pucks up.

“Of course! Let me know how it tastes!”

At this point we were interrupted by Journeyman Juniper. “Ahem. Sorry to interrupt Master Brewer, but we’re all done with the pressing. Is there anything more?”

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I glanced over at the students, who were doing their best not to stare at Mirelda and I. I cleared my throat. “Time ta start the cider makin’, then. Let’s clean up, then move to the brewing pumpkin. Hop to it!”

The students cheered, and began clearing up all the equipment while I held my elbow up for Mirelda.

“Care to join me in my pumpkin?” I asked.

She laughed, placing a hand in the crook of my arm. “Oooh! Like Cinderella? Lead on, prince charming!”

I rubbed my bushy beard. “More like Beast.”

—

The brewing pumpkin was pretty much identical to the brewroom that we now had sitting in the Liminial Inn, which was itself essentially the brewroom from the Thirsty Goat in Kinshasa. An enormous boiling kettle, with associated Mash and Lauter tun, followed by rows upon rows of Fermentation tanks and finally our fancy Nether Infused Bottler (NIB) system.

The biggest difference was that the pumpkin only contained two fermentation tanks, and most of the equipment was made of glass. The fermentation tanks were all set up with magical runes that ensured proper temperature regulation, and could properly accommodate both top and bottom fermentation yeasts.

Mirelda ooh’d and aaah’d, running about the place with an eager eye while I helped the students set the carboys up on stools. Everything had already been properly sanitized ahead of time, which saved a lot of time and stress. Thinking on it, I could really use a sanitization Ability. Barck if you’re listening?

“And I cannae stress this enough,” I said, while attaching a glass pressure valve to the top of a large carboy. “You MUST use the pressure valve. Another bloody beardless idjit was sent to tha [Healer] last month cause of it. Doesn't matter what you make, if it’s fermented, use a pressure valve.”

A curious dwelf held up their hand. “Even that Ciderkin you were talking about, Master Brewer?”

I hesitated. “Erm. Not so much, no. Ciderkin won’t usually get that fermented.”

“An’ how long do we ferment it, sir?” A dwarf apprentice asked.

“Until dryness, is usually what we call it. That means that you ferment it until all the sugar has been converted by tha yeast into alcohol. It’s a term used more in cider ‘an wine than in beer brewin’. Here’s how you can keep track.”

I pulled out my ‘Whistlemop Glass Custom Hydrometer’ and ‘Whistlemop Glass Custom Refractometer’ and showed them off to the class. “Pass these round, but be careful. This one,” I pointed at the tube with the wedge shaped end, “Is a refractometer. It’ll tell you how much sugar yer cider, wine, or beer has, and the charts on page 15 of ‘yer textbooks will show how to convert the numbers. Make sure you measure sugar before fermentation!”

The students took the pair of glass instruments and passed them around. Some took notes, and others flipped their textbooks open.

“Excuse me, I don’t have a textbook.” Mirelda complained good naturedly as she returned to the group.

“Ach, sorry. Here, you can use mine.” I pulled the paper out of nowhere using [Paper Pusher] and handed it to her. She popped it open and began flipping through, making *hmmm* noises.

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“And this glass tube is the hydrometer, Master Brewer?” An apprentice asked, pointing at the test-tube shaped glass containing a glass ball and stem bobbing inside it.

“Aye. That’s a good tool fer determining alcohol content. You can use the refractometer for both, but I like using the hydrometer for post fermentation readings more. Using your chart, you can tell when all the sugar from your starting measurement has been turned into alcohol. That’s a dryferment.”

By this point, the carboys were all properly capped with pressure release valves, and lined up one per student. I stuck an eyedropper in and plinked a few drops onto the refractometer, lining it up with the light and jotting down the numbers. I then passed it around to the students and let them each repeat the process.

When they were all done, I proclaimed, “And now we wait.” I pulled up a chair and took a seat, relaxing into it.

There was some confused shuffling.

One dwarf apprentice finally put up their hand. “How… long, sir? Doesn’t beer take weeks? And don’t we need to add Ancestral Seed?”

“Good question! Yes, there are definitely some yeasts that you can purchase from tha local cideries to pitch into yer cider. Different yeasts will offer different flavour profiles, and will affect the balance of the cider. In beer, balance usually refers to the balance of the sweetness of the malt and the bitterness of the bitters. But in cider, balance is a complex combination of aroma, sweetness, bitterness, structure, mouthfeel, clarity, and flavour. That’s not ta say that beer doesn’t care about clarity or mouthfeel, but y’know,” I shrugged. “Between Ass-Blaster and Sacred Brew, who’s to tell what’s good and what ain’t?”

I took great pride in seeing all the young dwarves and elves nod along. It had taken time, but the idea that Sacred Brew was now just one beer among many had really taken hold.

“Fer this batch, we’re just gonna use the natural yeasts in the apples. Apples have so many bloody yeasts in ‘em that you can usually just let ‘em run. If you want, you can add some honey or sugar as an adjunct to increase yer final ABV, but for this batch we’re just gonna let it ferment for a couple weeks on its own and capture the natural flavour of the apples. Five days to two weeks is usually enough time to run it dry.”

The students looked around confused, and Mirelda snorted and crossed her arms. “Okay, mister Master Brewer,” she snarked, “I don’t know about your captive audience here but I’m not sticking around for two weeks.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow in her direction. “Got somethin’ to write?”

She glowered back. “Low blow.”

“About as low as your words per minute?”

She stared at me, open mouthed. The surrounding students had gone deathly silent, except for one gelf who had pulled out a bag of nuts and was munching on them while watching us with starry eyes.

Finally, Mirelda sniffed, then chuckled. “Touche. Fine, I’ll stay, but you have to keep me well supplied in alcohol and snacks.”

I gestured at a blank wall. “You still haven’t come by the Liminal Inn. I could open a door here and you could visit? Have a drink? Get attacked by a Timbit?”

She stared at me for a while, then took a deep breath. “You know what? Sure, why not.”

“Good, good, but we don’t need to wait the full two weeks. [Rapid Aging]!” I walked down the line of carboys, using my old standby to give them the full two weeks of aging in a moment. They bubbled and popped, before spraying yeast out through the pressure valves and all over the students in a horrific brown fountain.

There were immediate shrieks of horror and rage as the dwarves' beards were covered in sticky stinking goop.

I winced. “Oops. Erm, make sure you don’t fill the carboys too much, or the yeast’ll blow out the pressure valve.”

“We noticed, sir.” One of the students muttered archly into the pissed off silence.

“Eh, how about everyone comes into the inn and gets washed up. Free of charge. And then we’ll rack the cider and give it a taste.”

“Really? The Thirsty Goat’s hot spring?” One of the dwarves piped up. “I’ve been! It’s marvelous!”

I waved my hand at the wall, and the fancy brass and wood door to the new Thirsty Goat appeared with a shimmer of golden light. “You all head in, I’ll give this a [Spot Clean] then follow.”

The students began filing in, happily chatting amongst themselves. Mirelda followed behind, giving me a wink as she left me to my fate.

I looked at the trashed brewroom and sighed. Thank the Gods for [Spot Clean].