I’m pretty proud of our track record with brewer interviews here at OA. We interviewed Gabriel Magliaro just before Half Acre opened in 2009 and then did a great interview with the Pipeworks guys in 2010 when they started their kickstart campaign. Both of those companies have brought something truly unique and uplifting to Chicago’s beer scene, be it through recipe, attitude, or unique turns on how to think about what a brewery should be. Which is why I wanted to make a point to land an interview with Dryhop’s Owner and General Manager Greg Shuff.

I’ve shared more than a couple beers with Greg over the past few months turning over his ideas and watching Dryhop evolve from it’s initial concept into what is soon to be a truly unique brewpub experience in the heart of Lakeview. More than a true and passionate love for craft beer, Greg’s knowledge base and passion extends well beyond beer to see the larger picture of the beer drinking experience and, I promise you, he’s raising the bar more than a little on what to expect from your neighborhood brewery.

I’ve tried Dryhop’s beer and it’s fantastic. But Dryhop’s experience is going to be much more holistic than just good beer. His space is well considered and should be awesome. Their growler packaging – a medium of beer delivery that is typically flawed at best – will be the best in the city providing growler beer that can stay fresh, literally, for months. And their food, their food is going to knock it out of the park. Everybody loves hotwings and french fries, right? But that’s been done. So how about the marrying of French market fare and amazing, fresh, craft beer? If that doesn’t make your knees pickle a little bit then you’ve probably had your taste buds removed by Mennonites who thought they were circumcising you.

There’s two opportunities during Craft Beer Week to try Dryhop’s beers, Monday at the Northdown Cafe & Taproom for what should prove to be a great event and Tuesday at Fountainhead’s now infamous Cask Night. I’ll see you at both of those.

Without further ado, I’m stoked to introduce you to Dryhop’s Greg Shuff:

Tell me about Dryhop.
Dryhop is Chicago’s first gastro-brewery. We’re all about doing whatever it takes to connect with our neighbors though creative ales and inspired food.

What size system are you running on?
We have a ten-barrel brewhouse, six ten-barrel fermenters, and six ten-barrel serving tanks.

What’s your expected yearly output?
We plan on brewing about 800 barrels over the first 12 months. Theoretically, the system can manage about 1,500 barrels/year before we’re totally maxed out.

How are you going to differentiate yourself from other brewpubs in Chicago?
I try to avoid using the word “brewpub” at all. I love brewpubs, don’t get me wrong, but they come with a very specific set of expectations.

There are a number of things that make Dryhop totally unique.

The first point obviously has to be the beer. Our Wheat IPA is to die for. And Brant (our Head Brewer) is prepared to kick out over 60 one-offs and seasonal beers in the first year – including our single hop series. You’re really going to love the creative beers in the lineup.

The second point is our kitchen. We have a world class Chef; Pete Repak formally of Charlie Trotters. Working with Pete, we’ve grown the menu out of the tasting room concept. Thinking about how great it is to sample small amounts of a variety of different beers, why not do the same things with our menu? 80% of the menu we’re doing tapas style. How about a small plate of Wild Tuna, lightly poached Quail Eggs, Watermelon, and warm Yuzu Vinaigrette with our Cream Ale? Hell yes. We’re all about pairing food to beer as oppose to matching the beers to the menu. After all, we’re brewers first.

Third is the space it’s self. We really want it to feel like you’re in a brewery enjoying beers and food from the brewer’s table. For instance, all the serving tanks are stacked behind the tap handles and there is a 15-foot tasting bar up front used only for filling growlers (which, by the way, we fill in counter presser fillers – i.e. no oxygen ever touches our beer and the growler shelf life becomes months as appose to days).

What does your beer program look like right now?
We have 6 house beer and 3-4 guest beers on draft at all times. We make an awesome Wheat IPA and a Cream Ale, so we’re keeping those two on at all times. The other four house taps are all about seasonals and one-offs.

What’s your background? What’s your brewer’s background?
For me, it all started when a professor told me to “write a paper about anything that turns you on about sustainability.” So I started writing about breweries, how brewers can use their resources more efficiently, and how beer drinkers can do their part by simply buying beers from their neighbors.

In 2010 I opened the Last Bay Beer Company, a one-barrel nano brewery in the last bay of a garage down in Indianapolis. Making the world’s best beers has always been my number one goal (and should always be the number one goal of any professional brewer). So when I peaked out on the one-barrel system, I new that the next tool I really needed in my arsenal was a better education. So I closed shop and went to Siebel and Doemens Academe in Munich in the middle of 2011.

Now I’m here in Chicago opening Dryhop Brewers.

Brant Dubovick is a GREAT brewer. Brant is the former Head Brewer at Church Brew Works in Pittsburgh, PA – a very unique and beautiful brewpub built inside of a Roman Catholic Church. Before Church, Brant brewed at Lancaster Brewing Company where he started his professional career in 2004.

Brant and I met through probrewer.com where we started discussing how great it is to personally connect with people through a brewery’s tasting room. We discovered that we both have the same passion for introducing people to great beers in a face to face environment, so it was only natural that we team up for this project.

How did you come to choose Lakeview as your location?
Lakeview is awesome, I love living and working here. My apartment is only one block south of the brewery. Besides the soft spot I have for Lakeview, the neighborhood is experiencing a kind of renaissance. A lot of “experiential” one-off businesses, both preexisting and newly opened, litter our corridor. By extension of that, we feel that Dryhop complements and grows the unique personality of this community.

So much is happening in Chicago right now with beer with so many new breweries opening, how is this going to work to Dryhop’s advantage? How is this going to pose challenges, if at all?
As they say, a rising tide lifts all ships. The biggest advantage of new and growing breweries is the increased awareness of better beer. We all know that inside the craft beer community there is very little brand loyalty, which is great. So the more brewers that are out there converting the macro beer drinkers into craft customers the larger Dryhop’s customer base becomes. For us, there is no downside to the Chicago craft beer boom. We’re just really excited to be a part of it.

I saw an earlier post from Dryhop saying that it was going to function as an “Alternating Proprietorship”. Are you still going that route? If not, why?
The Alternating Proprietorship idea was an earlier business model named Last Bay. Last Bay’s plan was to open Growler Filling Stations supplied only with beers brewed by us. In order to brew those beers we would partner with existing breweries that have excess capacity and we would come in during off hours to brew our beer on their systems.

I still think that it’s a wonderful idea, but execution proved to be just this side of impossible, especially in Chicago. First, no one local has excess capacity. Second, in the state of Illinois you can only sell growlers from the site of production. We had some elaborate schemes in mind to deal with the second challenge, but in the end it proved not to be worth it. So now we’re about to open a Gastro-Brewery. I couldn’t be happier about the change in direction.

What is Dryhop going to do to expand people’s understanding and appreciation of beer? How are you going to make the beer world a little more interesting?
For one, we’re building an expositions brewery in urban Chicago. We’re bringing the craft brewery experience to our neighbor’s back yard. Every step in the beer making process in on full display either behind the bar or next to the tables, our food menu expands the understanding of beer and food pairings by linking the small plate food fare to the beer list, you can try any beer we have for free (I hate paying for samples), we’ll give tours to anyone who asks, and you can expect us to host a number of beer and food focused events around the neighborhood all year. There isn’t a lot we aren’t doing to expand the appreciation of better beer.

From the perspective of the already initiated beer geek, you’re going to find our pairings and growlers the best in Chicago. We’re smashing together the ideas of the gastropub with the ideas of the brewery tasting room. The result is craft beer being placed on the highest pedestal possible without getting all fussy about it.

Do you have any plans to expand beyond the tasting room/brewpub concept? Why or why not?
No. If I live my life right, you’ll never see a Dryhop beer on a shelf in Binny’s. Dryhop is all about expanding the world’s front porch. We started the business out of the idea of a tasting room – where customers personally interacted with brewers, where you can casually sample all the wares, where the community comes to build and grow relationships… We’re excited about sharing our passion, and we don’t believe that we can effectively do that from a cold case.

That said, there’s a Binny’s down the street and I love it. I’m not knocking small packaging; it’s just not our thing.

Any plans for more locations?
We would love to share Dryhop with as many people as possible. That said our hands are really full opening Dryhop v1.0. For now, 100% of our attention is going into making the best beer possible and improving the quality of life for our Lakeview and Chicago neighbors.

What challenges have you run up against so far in creating Dryhop that you did not foresee and how did you handle them?
I have no love for the legal processes that govern our industry. For us, the biggest challenge has been the city liquor license process. Luckily, we’ve been able to get the support of our neighborhood, the Chamber of Commerce, and the Aldermen. Building those relationships has been great and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But I’d be lying if I said that I’m not anxious to be built out and open.

When you’re not drinking your beer, what do you like to drink?
This is probably the hardest question here… I find myself trying all sorts of beers all the time. A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to enjoy Russian River’s Supplication. Not surprising, it was one of the best Wild Ales I’ve ever had. Coming down from the crazy world of sours, I really enjoy super dry Pale Ales and IPAs brewed with Pacific Northwest hops, and I’ll always have a man-crush on hefeweizens. So if you’re looking for a Christmas present, any of the above would be great.

Other than your events coming up this week, what events are you looking forward to during Chicago Craft Beer Week?
On May 24th, Sun King is going to be doing a tap takeover at Haymarket. I’m from Indianapolis and besides the fact that they make really great beer; I’m really excited to see one of my home town breweries doing so well so quickly. That event is my top out-of-house priority.

And as you commented, we’re doing a “meet the brewer” on Monday at Northdown Café and Taproom that I’m really excited about (our very first beer tasting!) and we’re part of Tuesday’s Local Cask Night at Fountainhead on Tuesday.

Here’s an easy one, I like to ask everybody this…. What’s your favorite beer moment that you’ve had in your life?
My favorite beer moment has to be the moment that I discovered sour beers and all of their glory. A couple of years ago I was on a golf course in St. Louis with the Schlafly brewers and they had the wisdom to pack in a few large format bottles. One of the bottles was part of New Belgium’s Lips of Faith Series. After a failed punch shot from behind a tree, they handed the bottle to me saying “all good beers are session beers, here try this one.” The combination of being knee deep in pine needles, chasing a little white ball back and forth across a never ending field, hanging out with fun people, and drinking La Folie strait from the bottle was like a lightning bolt to the senses. Sour beers were heaven.

Since then my tastes have evolved exponentially, but I wouldn’t trade a sour beer in the woods for anything.

Cheers.

I had the chance to try Pipeworks second effort last night, the End of Days milk stout. Made with ancho chilies, cinnamon and cocoa nibbs, End of Days delivers a beer that doesn’t stumble over any one ingredient, but elevates into a synergistic whole greater than any of it’s parts. I couldn’t be happier to know those guys are doing their work in our big-boned city.

The beer drinks like a Vosges chocolate bar, silky, expertly balancing it’s lactose sweetness with the earthy and the tactile, but understated heat. This might not be a beer for everyone, but if you don’t have shit in your too-far-apart eyes or sagging between your strange looking ears, you’ll most likely find more than a few things to enjoy in it.

We did an interview with Pipeworks about a year and a half ago when they first put out their video to announce their funding. Since then they’ve progressed from a couple homebrewers with an audacious plan to a fully licensed brewery that’s actually gotten real press, including a pretty flattering article in the Tribune the other day.

It’s been fun to track their progress as they’ve put this project together from a heady mix of over-sized confidence, community support and tenacious will. I’m glad to see with the release of End of Days that their eye towards balance didn’t end with the inauguration of their business, but is carrying over into their products as well.

Chicago and it’s exploding beer scene should be proud to call Pipeworks it’s own.

I know I admitted to my first full-fledged mancrush on Damon Zex a few weeks ago, but I may be developing another on Brian Strumke from Stillwater Artisanal Ales. I tried his Folklore on Friday for the first time and it immediately turned me into a quivering puddle of little girlness, pigtails and all. I’ve since covered my walls with all the pull-out posters of Strumke that I could find in Teen Beat magazine and have been carving his name into my desk and my arm here at work. These feelings I am having are new and strange, but I think I like them.

I’ve said it in hushed corners before, but I think Stillwater is as close to an Americanized take on Fantome as we have right now. Clearly there are some real differences, but what Strumke is doing with yeasts and herbs is starting, more and more it seems, to be coming to the same conclusions as that maniac in the Ardennes.

Anyway, I’ll have a chance to bat my pretty eyelashes at Strumke tomorrow at the Bottom Lounge. Wait until I tell him we have the same first name! OMG!!!!!!

This past Sunday West Lakeview Liquors hosted Jérôme Rebetez from BFM to tap and pour a wood cask of his 2010 Abbaye de St. bon Chien. As always WLV played the expert host, not only pouring the bon Chien, but also a Terrapin collaboration barley “ryne”, as well as BFMs entire bottle portfolio. There was the obligatory selection of delicious cheeses and cured meats, too.

If you don’t know, St. bon Chien is one of the great outliers in the world of sour beers. BeerAdvocate calls it a biere de garde, I’ve heard it compared to a geuze, but really it’s neither of these. The malt base is most likely where BA derives their style designation. There’s a deep orange color to the beer with only light hop notes and that leave room for some carmelly notes most likely derived from some dark sugars to shine through. But the majority of the flavor is derived from the barreling process, combining three different barrel types to the beer and then blending to achieve their final result. Jerome mentioned on Sunday that there’s no addition of wild yeasts or bacteria to the beers, only the aging in the barrels which, apparently, are loaded with bugs the multitudes of which would make Noah envious.

The complexity of bon Chien is unrivaled, even amongst styles known for their complexity. And you could write a master’s thesis on the differences between each years personality. The 2010 was tart with a strong, spicy acidity to it, while the 2007 they were pouring was hung in deep berry and plumbs. Even with American craft beers it’s too easy to forget that beer is a living organism that is changing, developing, degrading and unfolding in time. Even as Americans come to appreciate the expanses of possibility available in beer our underlying programming by the McDonaldization of flavor keeps American producers anxious about truly indulging in the craft and chaos of the living beer. This is decidedly not the case with our friends on the other side of the spittoon.

If there is any one lesson I wish American brewers would learn and employ it is to recognize, trust and explore the dynamic arc of a beers existence. We can see the first puritan pokes at this with the barrel aging trend right now. But, where some are truly relaxing into the vulnerabilities inherent in this pursuit, too many others are just trying to get their imperial stout portfolio effort to keep pace with the rest of the herd. This is fine, and it produces many enjoyable results, but I’m excited for when these breweries finally feel comfortable to take their shirts off in the pool.

That said, there are notable exceptions. Jolly Pumpkin is probably the most exciting when it comes to American brewers exploring the vitality of yeasts. By actually spontaneously fermenting, following seasonal fluxuations in their brew schedule, and noticably and wantonly producing different results under the same recipes, Ron Jeffries’ operation is doing the dark lord’s work for the American palette.

While I’m not always crazy about the results, Stillwater is another producer that is always fun to try. He doesn’t seem to be playing with yeast development as much, but, with his adoption of the rather oblique title of artisanal ales, he has found a medium to really draw outside the seemingly boring lines of American styling. I’ve heard many people bitch about it, but for the same reasons folks are complaining, I find Existenst Brian Strumke’s most interesting and encouraging effort to date. It’s confusing, it’s unsettling, it’s not what you expect at all. And isn’t that what art should be? It should rewire your expectations to bring you to new places, if it doesn’t do that, it’s not art.

There’s others too, probably many I’m not yet aware of and I can’t wait to find them.

But let’s be clear, I don’t think that burdening your beer with a bunch of strange-ass adjuncts makes it art. That kind of thumb-fisting makes it naive and green, like too many American efforts. A lot of these beers that spasm with adjuncts remind me of the shit painting and music production and films that are direct heirs of the Surrealist’s and Beats influence of spontenaity and the schizophrenics of subjectivity. While a demon box in the hand of an expert, this kind of open-verse nonsense becomes oppressive in a young voice. Sometimes limitation is the best avenue to towards expression. Sometimes – yes, Virginia – sometimes less is more.

Case in point – Goose Island’s Matilda. Say what you want about Goose Island, but a properly matured bottle (which I’m finding about 10 months is good) of Matilda is about fucking perfect. The wooly coarseness of the brett drawing chords in your tastebuds to gently settle the peach back bone in? Come on, it’s unmatched in America beers. But, to be sure, you can taste the puckered rectum of the Goose in this beer. There is no doubt about that and there is no open-verse in the cinder brick walls of the Goose Island brewery. The Matilda is no work of art, this is science, to be sure. But, Goose Island’s Matilda is where science has become art and they deserve all the recognition they get for it.

In the masterful addition of brett to a beer world, Green Flash’s Rayon Vert is no slouch either. I had the opportunity to try that the other day and was thrilled by how nicely the brett played along with Green Flash’s hop assertion. It reminded me of an infected bottle of Emmit’s pale ale I had not too long ago. Boy was I disappointed when my attempts to find another 6-pack of that failed, realizing my last experience was a fluke of QA issues and not their stable of flavors. Please Emmit, start adding brett to your Victory.

So, yeah, American breweries have a long and compelling path before them until they can truly play ball with the great European brewers. But, why shouldn’t we? Those maniacs over seas have several hundred years of a jump on us. And, let’s be fair here, right now everyone is looking to America for developments in beer. But that won’t last. Once we strike a flare under international interests in beer again, pallettes that know and palletes that are learning will get sick of the fireworks and demand more depth from their beer.

We’re starting to see it now, I count myself amongst those that are learning and ready. And I’m consistantly finding that outside our four American walls. And the reason I’m finding it and finding new and exciting ways to stumble down this slippery slope, past the rabbit hole and into the devil’s playground of great fucking beer is because of the passionate work of so many brewers and also, just as importantly, the proprieters of stores like West Lakeview Liquors, who through owner Kristina Bozic, is making Chicago a better place to enjoy great beer and, in turn, the world a better place to live in. And this world could certainly stand a little improvement on it’s living conditions. So thanks!

There’s two events on February 24th that I’m willing to publicly wet my pants over. I’m not entirely sure that that is necessary, but I like to give this whole ritual-of-self-abuse-thing 110%.

First off you’ve got SmallBar Fullerton with their 2 year anniversary party hosting an evening of sour beers. Their tap list includes some Cantillon Fou Foune (that means ‘pussy’ for all you youngsters out there), Dogfish Head’s Noble Rot, and a cask of Jolly Pumpkin. Finally, I’ll have a reason to go to that creepy-ass Fullerton location.

But then, in an act that reminds me the universe is often benevolent, but always petty in it’s indulgences, the Bavarian Lodge is hosting BFM’s Jerome Rebetez whose bringing with him La Douze, BFM’s gose styled beer, on cask as well as a couple of other treats.

I’m not sure if Jerome will let you photograph his tits that night or not, but based on his picture on this flyer, I’d say your chances are on the upside of the 75 percentile.

Ok, there you go America. Line up and take a number, February 24th is bound to be a Patriotic display of excess and flavor. I foresee a train ride in my future.

Anybody can brew beer, but it can be like handling plutonium to create great beer that is repeatable.

Your two greatest allies in that pursuit are time and temperature. Giving the beer the time it needs to fully bloom is essential, and something that took a lot – and I mean a lot – of discipline to grab a handle on. Obviously, you have to let your beer hit it’s FG, but that is the easy part. It’s waiting after the critters have done their job that has been a painful lesson for me.

But no beer is ready immediately after it’s been fermented.

Or at least no beer I have tried. Every style of beer I’m aware of needs at least another month to sit and fully unfold itself before it truly hits it’s flavor potentials. Many beers take a great deal longer.

At this point, my rule of thumb is, after I rack off the yeast cake, I put my keg in a cooling fridge for no shorter than 4 weeks. I’ll test it at that point and decide to either put it on gas, put it in a bottle or let it sit for even longer.

The other great revelation for me in controlling the chaos of brewing has been understanding the need for creating healthy yeast with a starter and nutrients and giving that culture the proper conditions to develop the desired effect. To do that a temperature controller is essential.

There’s more than a few different ways to attack this, but my approach was to pick up a full size fridge from a foreclosed apartment building in the ghetto, add a 2 stage temperature controller from Rebel Brewer and a space heater. The temperature controller is fine, although if you want to save about $35 you can build it yourself. Here’s some instructions.

Everything has been working great until recently. I’ve been able to make my yeast do all kinds of fun things to my beer and have been able to get them to do it over and over again. It’s an awfully proud parent who teaches their yeast a new trick. And it’s a richer, drunker parent who chooses yeast rearing over baby wrangling.

But since winter has finally come to Chicago in mid-February, the temperature has dropped and my space heater has been having to do more work than it likes to bring the fridge to temperature. This is causing a safety feature on the space heater to shut down power as opposed to over heat and burn my house to the ground. Good thing.

So, I’ve had to forego my previous and incredibly dangerous solution and replace it with a FermWrap and a carboy shield. The FermWrap is a variation on reptile cage heaters that are totally effective at bringing your wort to the proper temperature at a very low power draw. The carboy shield helps to optimize the FermWraps efforts, keeping valuable heat from escaping off to the sides.

Life is good again for me and my yeasts. Time to find another way to temp the fates.

I love making beer, truly I do. If ever there was a way – perhaps a reality-augmenting piece of stainless machinery – that would allow me to curl up close with my beer making and kind of snuzzle my junk up and down on it’s leg all the time, i would totally be in to that. But, unfortunately, that technology is at least a singularity or two away from happening. In the interim, I’ll just attach one of those flashlight pussy things to my brew rack and buy it dinner every couple of weeks. I’ll name it for a french whore, like Fantine or Inara, and together we’ll grow old together, slowly falling apart, drinking too much and always humping like fat, feral dogs in mud. It’s not perfect, but then, neither was Don Cornelius.

But until I can horse glue a flashlight pussy to that filthy lipped, castor strutting, rusting piece of sticky industrial slut I’ve got sleeping in my garage, I’ll use reading to hold me over between brews. With that in mind, I’ve found, time and again, that Gordon Strong’s “Brewing Better Beer” and Randy Mosher’s “Radical Brewing” are my two favorite pieces of bathroom trash that I return to over and over again. They are both very different books in approach, but both work towards a similar end of prying free the detritus of pedantic mimicry that inevitably comes after an initial investigation into something as byzantine as brewing.

Mosher attacks from a kind of joy-filled revelry, combining history, technique and an artist’s notebook to undo the scale of many intimidating crests, juggling probabilities to reveal that the true nature of brewing really is art or, at least, at turns as equally elusive and accessible.

But where Mosher sings Gordon Strong whistles along. There is a zen simplicity to Strong’s approach as he unhinges the mysteries with systems analysis as opposed to Mosher’s poetry. He gently guides the reader into re-examining what is truly important when it comes to the brew day and uses some solid recipes to deliver his message home.

Both are equally effective, rich with information, and indispensable for me on my journey. There’s definitely other resources I use – I love the Brew Strong and Can You Brew It podcasts, Ray Daniels Designing Great Beers is fantastic, the interwebs never fails me, as well as BeerTools and more than a few spreadsheets – but when I think of two books that I lean on more heavily than any other, I always seem to be coming back to these two.

Eliminate all human sorrows. Activate joy, stat.

A co-worker just hit me up with the news that Alan Lake is going to be the new chef at Chief O’Neil’s.

About two days ago, Lake told me he took the full-time chef position at O’Neill’s. What cinched the deal for him, he said, was his experience at the famous Shelbourne in Ireland, where he earned the kitchen honorific Underpants O’Malley (I have no idea what that means, but it sounds Irish and a little naughty).

“My goal is to elevate the food at O’Neill’s,” Lake told me last night, and he has plans to cure his own corned beef and take the native simplicity of the cuisine and see what he can do by sourcing locally and applying to this traditionally simple food the skills of an accomplished fine dining chef.

As Achatz had his way with Thai street food, Lake wants to see how far he can push Irish pub grub toward a kind of haute Hibernian.

Hopefully this means they’ll be adding some decent beers to their draft list as well!!