My Double/Imperial Red Ale (Bruise Bros) finished out right around the same time as my Redwings: good on the beer, bad on the'Wings. Time to dry hop it!
Weekends are always busy, and this was no exception. Mother's Day tomorrow, and today we did the family celebration of Brandon's birthday a week early, since I won't be around next Saturday on his real birthday. I had a bunch of stuff to do in the morning to get ready for company to come over, so I was just preparing my hops when folks started showing up...
My dad, who used to work at the Rainier Brewery back in its heyday (and whose grandfather was the business manager of the Horluck's plant for Sick's Brewing from the late-30s through the 60s), always takes an interest in my brewing despite the fact that he no longer drinks. As I weighed out the hops, sanitized marbles (to weigh them down), and shoved them into a hop bag, he shared how much he hated the smell of hops.
What? Are you crazy? Hate the smell of hops? He explained that he liked the smell as they were added to the wort, but he had negative associations with the smell of plain dried hops. It seems that when he first went to work at Rainier (he was 14 years old), one of his jobs was to move hop bales from cold storage to the brewhouse for the brewers.
Just like today, the hops were bundled into 100 or 200 pound sewn burlap bales; at 14 my dad probably did not weigh much more than 90-100 pounds since he weighed about 120 when he enlisted in the Marines at the age of 19. At any rate, he had to wrestle the bales out of cold storage, transport them using a hand-truck through the brewery up an elevator into the brewhouse. It was exhausting work, and he could not get rid of the smell. I guess I can see where his dislike comes from... I still like it though.
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