Microbrewed Adventures by Charles Papazian Read Free Book Online

Louis. You have heard of the brewery?”
    I liked this guy already. “Yes,” I replied with a nervous chuckle.
    â€œMay I call you Charlie?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œCharlie, I am organizing the annual joint meeting of District St. Louis Master Brewers Association of the Americas and the American Society of Brewing Chemists. I would like to invite you to speak at our meeting this coming April 14, 1983. We have heard you are doing some interesting things in Colorado. We cannot pay for your travel or accommodations, but we can offer you a free dinner.”

    George Charalambous
    I hesitated a moment, wondering a big “why?” “What would you want me to discuss?” I replied.
    â€œI understand you have an association and some of your members are making homebrew and have started small microbreweries. I think it would be interesting to hear about them and taste some of their beers.”
    This was my first contact with the “King,” Anheuser-Busch. I accepted knowing I had nine months to think about what to say. The adventure had begun.
    One week later, a very enthusiastic George Charalambous called again. “Charlie, I have talked to some of my colleagues and I would like to ask whether you will consider making a batch of homebrew that could be served at the meeting.”
    I knew I could make good homebrew, but I silently gasped nevertheless. I drew out the first word of my reply, trying to buy time. “Welllllllll,” lingering a moment, “yes I can…”
    Before I could continue, George raised his voice in excitement. “This is wonderful! You will have to tell me what you might brew after you have had time to think about it.”
    â€œGeorge, who will be at this meeting?”
    â€œProfessional brewers and production engineers and scientists from Anheuser-Busch; Falstaff, which is across the river; other professionals from the Midwest and manufacturers from Europe. We have a lot of fun and there’s always plenty of beer.”
    I did not get a good night’s sleep that evening, as I wondered, “Where is all this going? Am I going to be able to make a beer that is up to their standards? Will they like my homebrew? Am I crazy?” Evidently I was.
    Two weeks later George called again. There was excitement in his voice exceeding the pitch of the previous conversation by leaps and bounds. “Charlie, I have wonderful news…”
    â€œUh ohhhhh,” I thought to myself as I fumbled for the imaginary seat belt on my office chair.
    â€œCharlie I have talked to Ball Metal Container Corporation; you know, they make aluminum cans for us and they have agreed to supply us with cans to put your homebrew in. We will have the two logos of our professional associations as well as the logo of your American Homebrewers Association and your names as president of each organization. This will be great, Charlie.”
    Now came the hard part. “George, how will you get the beer into cans?” I meekly asked.
    â€œWe will send you empty kegs, and after you have filled them we will ship them to St. Louis.”
    I wondered if George realized that I was a homebrewer, making beer in 61 /2-gallon carboys fermenting under my kitchen table. “How…much…will you…uhhh…ahhh…need, George?”
    â€œCharlie, can you make two barrels?”
    My brain quickly calculated: Thirty-one gallons in a barrel. Two barrels. Sixty-two gallons. About ten 6½-gallon carboys worth of beer. In other words, over a hundred pounds of malt! I’ve never had that much malt in my house at one time.
    Adrenaline was coursing through my veins. But I remained calm, because brewers who say “yes” simply breathe deeply and repeat three times, “Relax, don’t worry, have a homebrew.” It works every time.
    â€œOkay George, I’ll do it.”
    â€œWe’ll send you eight quarter-barrels in time for you to