Front Street Brewery

About a month ago or so my assistant brewer Tim was dry hopping a beer.  After finishing up the job he then realized that his wedding ring was no longer where it should have been.  We scoured the brewery looking for it with no luck at all.  We then came to the realization that it must be at the bottom of the fermenter.  Unfortunately there was really nothing we could do until the beer was transferred out of that tank into the serving tank which would be about a month.  It was a bummer, but his wife did not kill or castrate him for this mistake.  As long as it would be recovered everything would be fine.

So we waited and waited and waited and then had a beer………then waited a little bit more.  It was finally time to transfer that beer to its serving tank.  Hopes were high…spirits were up…..and then they were crushed when we realized that the ring was neither in the bottom of the fermenter, nor in any of the hop bags that we dry hopped the beer with.  We were crushed.  We figured he might have dropped it in the alley or somewhere outside……thus most certainly being picked up by a gypsy where it was most certainly then melted down and turned into a medallion that could cast evil spells on people.  Or maybe he lost it elsewhere.  Either way it was nowhere to be found and we were both sad.  So we had a beer.

Yesterday I was brewing our American Amber.  It’s a fairly hoppy beer with a nice helping of American hops.  As I was adding a bucket of the hops I heard a strange clank on the bottom of the kettle.  I thought little of it.  After emptying the kettle I was spraying out the kettle getting rid of all the excess hops when I spotted what looked to me like treasure.  I was ecstatic.   Finally it was my turn.  I could get this treasure and melt it down into a medallion that could cast evil spells on people……or take it to the pawn shop and get some quick cash for it.  So I looked around to make sure noone saw me and jumped in the kettle to claim my precious.  When I picked it up I realized what it was.  This ring would not turn me invisible, nor would it make me rich beyond my wildest dreams, nor would it make me supreme leader of the gypsy realm.  It was in fact Tim’s wedding ring.  Apparently he must have lost it in one of the open bags of hops that we store in the walk in cooler.  While opening a bag to dry hop that beer a month ago it must have fell in there and sat for another month until I used that particular hop again.  After returning the ring to Tim he was pleased.  His wife was more pleased and his mom was most pleased.  It was a happy ending.  One day hopefully I’ll find treasure that I can claim as my own.