Latest Reviews
Double Dry Hopped pseudoSueToppling Goliath
Brewfist
Wild Beer Co.
Recent Articles
Outdoor Winter Tippling TipsStay safe from the pandemic and stay warm with these winter patio drinking tactics. Shameless
Craft brewer sellouts become as tone-deaf and underhanded as their new overlords. Great Taste Eve
Check out the burgeoning Madison beer scene the night before the best fest in country. Good Beer Makes Good Conversation
The effects of drinking beer worth talking about. archives »
August 29, 2011
Home Brewin’:
Wet
It’s hop harvest season, and there’s no better way to celebrate it than by brewing up a wet-hopped beer.by Eddie Glick
“ … on hot days there is no pleasanter place than the shady lanes of hops, with their bitter scent—an unutterably refreshing scent, like a wind blowing from oceans of cool beer.”
— George Orwell
Yes, it’s the time of year when the hop vines come down and their hallowed fruit is given over to the making of the sweet (or bitter, as the case may be) nectar we here at BeerDorks.com like to call “beer.” And if you can manage to get your hands on a quantity of this green gold, there’s no better way to celebrate the season—other than maybe drinking beer—than by brewing up a kick ass wet-hopped ale (or lager).

I personally do not have my own supply of hop vines (when it comes to plants, I have the touch of death—I managed to accidentally kill a fake plant once) or the budget to have anything shipped to me overnight, even something as important as beer ingredients. But about a week or so ago some acquaintances mentioned that they had some hop vines in their back yard that were hanging heavy with big, fat cones. They asked, since I seemed to be into the whole “beer” thing, if I wanted them. I immediately said “You bet your sweet ass” (or, “Yes,” I don’t really remember), and I immediately trundled the Gremlin over to their house to start picking.

The second problem was I figured I needed about four pounds of hops to make a wet-hopped pale ale. Hop cones, you will notice if you’ve ever handled them, are very light. Meaning, it took in the vicinity of three hours to pick a bag full of hops by myself. During the day. A non-cloudy day. As in, that evil orb, the sun, frying my pasty skin for damn near three full hours. The things I do for beer …
But soon enough I was back in the safe, cool confines of the basement, where I furiously put together a recipe:
| Hop Harvest Ale | ||
| 11.5 | pounds | Briess 2-row pale ale malt (if extract brewing, substitute 6 pounds light malt liquid extract) |
| 12 | ounces | fresh picked hops—60 minutes |
| 12 | ounces | fresh picked hops—30 minutes |
| 12 | ounces | fresh picked hops—15 minutes |
| 10 | ounces | fresh picked hops—hop back (or, in my case, a boring old collander) |
| Wyeast 1056 (American Ale) yeast | ||
Mash at 153°. Boil for 60 minutes. Ferment around 72°. |
||

I thought all those hop cones would really soak up the wort during the boil, but that didn’t happen. And the basement was filled with the intoxicating aroma of fresh hops. I pegged my target gravity at a perfect 1.050, so I’m hoping for a brew in the 5.5 percent ABV range. The beer is bubbling away in the fermenter as I write this, and all I have to do is get close to the airlock to smell the bright citrusy smell of hops—my own little ocean of beer (sorry, George).
Assuming I didn’t screw anything up and ruin my brew, I’ll post a follow-up about how it turned out.