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It's Easier Than You Think! (a perspective on All-Grain Brewing)
by Steve Jackson, 1998
I suppose like most any other hobby, there is a distinct but subtle caste system within the world of homebrewing. There are the untouchables -- those who buy one of those cheap Mr. Beer kits from a department store; the peasants -- those who plop a can or two of prehopped malt syrup and some corn sugar into a Dutch oven and throw it into a bucket full of water; the bourgeoisie -- those who progress to using hops but are still mired in the world of extract; and the aristocracy -- those who wouldn't touch malt powder or syrup any sooner than the Queen of England would be seen getting the special sauce of a Big Mac all over her face.
Being a true republican (emphasis on the small "r," for those of you who know my line of work), I am firmly against any type of caste system, whether social or beer-related. I know full well excellent beers can be made from a few bags of powder and well-selected raw grains and hops. But the irrepressible urge for social climbing (and the need to become more intimately involved in the brewing process) recently led me to make my first plunge into all-grain brewing.
When I began this hobby a scant six months ago, I figured I'd slog along doing extract brews for quite some time. After all, I was having some pretty good success with my beers using sticky powder and a couple pounds of raw grains in a bag (at least judging from the feedback I was getting). I didn't have to worry about water chemistry and strike temperatures and sparge rates and all that stuff. I figured I was already spending enough time standing around my kitchen waiting for my electric stove to do its thing, that I didn't need to kill an entire Saturday by throwing a mash and sparge into the mix.
But there was a far more persuasive reason to avoid the world of all-grain brewing. It scared the hell out of me.
I'm guessing I'm not the only neophyte brewer who has felt this way. It's impossible for a beginning or even intermediate brewer to look at a book, pick up a magazine, poke around at various homebrewing sites on the Internet, talk to long-time brewers, without coming away with the impression that building one's own car would be easier than brewing beer using nothing but raw grain. Not only is the terminology and chemistry a bit confusing, there is this distinct impression that brewing decent all-grain beer cannot be done without investing hundreds and thousands of dollars into elaborate equipment that takes up three rooms of your house.
There's a well-kept but dirty little secret about the industry of books and magazines that caters to homebrewers. I'm convinced these publications do not exist to educate brewers about their hobby. They exist to give them equipment envy, subsequently making them buy more crap. The side effect of all this is it leads novice brewers to think that they are nobody if they don't own a half-barrel system with a three-tiered titanium jet-fuel-powered brewing apparatus that does everything short of pumping the beer into your gullet automatically.
I was convinced there must be an easier way, even if none of the books or magazines would tell me about it. People have been brewing for thousands of years without any of this fancy stuff, so it stands to reason that people can still brew some decent beer without bankrupting themselves or turning their house into a full-scale brewery.
I can now confirm that my speculation is indeed true. Making the transition from using a combination of extract and raw grains to using nothing but raw grains is fairly easy and inexpensive.
The biggest hurdle is realizing that all-grain brewing doesn't require 8 million BTU burners, heavily modified steel drums and a warehouse worth of space. Utilizing a little ingenuity, a little forethought, and more than a little advice from fellow FBI'ers, I was able to fashion an easy-to-use all grain setup that works quite well in my small apartment kitchen -- and for less than 50 bucks.
If you're already brewing beer using extracts and small amounts of grain, you probably already have two-thirds of the equipment you need. This is especially true if you are already doing full boils, as I was. If you're not doing full boils, your start-up costs will probably be a bit higher, since you may need to get a larger brewpot and a wort chiller. (I would advise purchasing these items anyway, even if you stick with extracts. The quality of my beer improved dramatically when I started boiling the full five gallons instead of using a concentrated wort.) These items can be purchased for about $40 apiece at any homebrew supply store.
The biggest purchase that needs to be made to move from extract to all-grain brewing is a mash/lauter tun. And I use the term "biggest" lightly. A mash/lauter tun simply needs to be a container that can hold a fairly sizable amount of water and grain at a reasonably consistent temperature for about an hour. In other words, a big (and cheap) cooler.
I know a lot of brewers who are fond of the vertical Gott drink coolers -- the kind they use to serve that goofy orange drink from McDonald's. A rectangular cooler works just as well, and tends to be much cheaper. I found a 48-qt. Rubbermaid ice chest at Target for $15 (this is not meant to be a plug for Target, by the way; I've seen the same cooler at many other discount stores). The 10-gallon Gotts tend to run around $40, I believe. Igloo coolers should be avoided; for whatever reason, they tend not to withstand high temperatures very well.
One of the benefits of using a rectangular cooler is that there is already an outlet built in -- the drain hole at the bottom. With an outlet already in place, all that needs to be done to turn the ice chest into a mash/lauter tun is to install some means of letting the liquid flow out without bringing bits of raw grain along with it.
This was done by spending all of $5 on some copper tubing and fittings. Four long copper tubes with hacksaw slats about every inch run the length of the cooler. A small network of T's and elbows connects them all together and leads to a small piece of tubing that pushes into the drain hole. On the other side of the drain hole is a ball valve with a barb for the vinyl tubing used to carry the runoff to the brewpot. (The same sort of system can be put together for the Gott-style coolers. The only difference is that the push-button dispensing device needs to be removed).
The only additional equipment purchase I needed was a bucket in which to hold my sparge water. Even counting some additional expenses like pH test strips, lactic acid and gypsum, I had put together a very serviceable system for around $50.
When it came time to take the system for a test-drive, I admit I was more than a bit nervous. Suddenly I was having to worry about things like pH adjustments, water chemistry, strike temperatures, starch conversion, runoff rates and a few other things that never entered my mind when brewing consisted of steeping grains in a bag, adding extract powder and hops and boiling for a while. As I discovered, there wasn't much need for worry. Since I had done a little reading before brew day (and invited an experienced all-grain brewer over to help out and drink some beer), I found I was rather well prepared. I'm simplifying things a bit here, but basically there wasn't much else to do but let a bunch of grain soak inside the cooler for an hour and then let the wort run out of the cooler into my brew pot while I slowly added some more water to the top of the grain bed. Once that was accomplished, there I moved on to my already-established routine.
That said, anyone looking to make the move into all-grain brewing should keep in mind a few simple but important things. Do some reading beforehand to get an idea of the process and what is happening to your wort at the various stages. Mashing is a little more involved (but only a little) than simply letting a bunch of grain soak in 150-degree water. There is a need to pay attention to water chemistry and pH, although there is certainly no need to be anal about it. It also helps to befriend some experienced brewers and talk to them about the process and how you can make it work for you (just don't ask Paul Edwards for a while -- I've probably tapped his patience with two or three months of continual questions). Even more important than reading and getting advice is to think and plan ahead. A little preparation made my first all-grain brewing experience headache-free (my feet did hurt a little, though, since I was spending quite a bit more time in the kitchen that I did previously).
But most importantly, don't let the prospect of all-grain brewing intimidate you. Despite what some would lead you to believe, it can be done simply and inexpensively.