Optimal Oil Extraction 101.

Whole Cones vs Turkish Espresso Pellets: Where’s That Sweet Spot?

How does a brewer get the most hop oil for the buck? Does he dry hop with whole cones? Or with pellets? The research shows that a brewer using pellets can extract about 30-35% more alpha acid in solution than he can from whole cones, but I’m not aware of any oil extraction studies pitting cones vs pellets.

It’s not a perfect analogy, but assuming the same holds true with respect to oil extraction – that a pellet offers up more oil for extraction than a cone, what is the optimal design of the pellet?

In short, where’s the sweet spot? On one end, we have a properly harvested, dried, baled and stored whole cone flower. On the other, we have that same flower pulverized into a fine Turkish espresso powder compressed to a 3 mm pellet.

How do we open up the flower to best utilize the oil inside the resin glands without unduly exposing them to the ravages of oxygen and heat? And why do we need to “open” them up at all?

The answer to that last question is intuitive. Look at a whole cone. The oil together with the resins is inside the tiny cup- shaped yellowish resin glands. The glands themselves are coated with a permeable membrane, or skin. Even though it seems logical, there’s no definitive research proving that heat or air have an impact on the gland’s permeability. The permeability varies between hop varieties.

The inside of the gland consists of many molecules, including the hop resins, the oil (about 250 bio-chemically distinct compounds) and anti-oxidants (like quercetin and xanthohumol), which themselves help prevent oxidation and prolong the shelf life of both the oil and the resin.

Nature designed the cone to protect those precious glands from predators. They’re tucked around the vertebrae of the cone (the strig) where they cling to the bracteoles, the internal scales shielded by the weather-exposed bracts. If you poured water over the cone, it’s not likely that much would penetrate the bracteoles and reach the resin glands (like water off a duck’s back).

If you dipped the cone into an aqueous solution, more water would reach the central axis, but the process of extracting the oils from the glands is not very efficient. This became clear to me when I recently scooped up a handful of spent whole cones that had been dry hopped. I opened a few up and I could plainly see a few yellowish glands, all perky and plump.

It’s not a great analogy, but think about coffee beans. You can’t dip coffee beans into hot water and efficiently extract any appreciable amount of oil. To bring out the oil, you need to grind the bean up. The question is, to get the best flavor and aroma out of that bean, how do you preserve the bean, when do you grind it up, and how finely do you grind it?

I’ve been applying these same questions to the hop cone. It’s clear to me after examining several pellets from different pellet mills that the size of the pellet and the coarseness/fineness of the grind dramatically influence both the quality and quantity of utilizable oil. Granted, I haven’t measured the “extraction” rate or amount in a laboratory. But it’s fairly well known that hop oils degrade rapidly when they’re exposed to heat, light and air.

If the key to optimal oil extraction is maximal lupulin gland preservation, but the oil glands are tucked inside, how does one “process” the cone, or open it up, and shake out the glands, without unduly rupturing, cooking, or shattering them? I called the People’ Hopmeister , Dr. Al Haunold, for help.

It turns out there is a middle ground, but I’ m not sure how sweet it is. Dr. Al tells me that there was a technique developed years ago for shaking the lupulin glands out of the cone and capturing them fairly whole: pure, concentrated glands containing resins and oils. The shake-out process requires freezing the dried cones followed by a “gentle” shaking. The cones are not compressed into a bale. The process is laborious and both time and space consuming.

The shake-down-and-out method might work in a Willy Wonka-ish factory run by oompa loompahs who never complain. But, after investing a few million in a pellet mill, not sure I’m ready to throw down for a massive shake down operation. Nor do I think there’s an immediate demand for pure unfractionated hop oil, as brewers are accustomed to using pellets and cones, and few have drilled down to knowing precisely which of the several dozen popular oil “essences” they want for each brew style.

Al explains that the resin glands during picking and drying tend to fall out of the tossed-about cone. The rate at which the glands fall or shake out depends on the variety, the moisture content, and the harvest date – if the cone is harvested late and is therefore too “fluffy,” then the glands are more likely to fall out – a phenomenon he calls “shattering.”

A badly harvested, picked and dried cone can lose up to 40% of its lupulin glands. Where do they go? They fall on the floor. Per Al, you can separate the good farmers from the mediocre or worse by the concentration of yellow lupulin glands on the picking and drying floors – the so-called “Yellow Floor” syndrome. And by the way, according to the Hop Oracle, it’s not unusual for the farmer to scoop up all that yellow gold and sell it separately to extractors in years of hop shortages. In good hop production years, there may not be much of a demand for such sweepings.

All that piney, citrusy, mango-ish, floral oil, together with all the bittersweet alpha, swept away like dust in the wind. A tragedy!

So, where do we go from here? We continue to question and tinker. I recently met with a brewer who said he wanted to experiment with dry hopping using both pellets and whole cones. He’s convinced that while traditional, and perhaps even romantic, dry hopping with whole cones leaves a lot of juice on the table (in addition to soaking up a lot of valuable beer). He wants to dry hopping using cones, in one batch, hand, and coarsely ground and fatter IH pellets, in another, and evaluate the differences.

Straight up he says whats driving his curiosity is a blend of both wanting to up the quality of his brew and save money by using fewer hops but extracting more flavorful oil. We like that. Question everything.

In the meantime, we control the things we can. For example, we will freeze our freshly harvested 2010 bales on receipt. We’ll hammer the flowers minimally and squeeze them through our die lovingly at under 110 Degrees F. And we’ll double nitrogen flush our cool pellets, wrap them in an impermeable layer of foil, and whisk them right back into the deep freeze in under 70 minutes. Can’t wait to crank it up!

Roger Worthington
7/27/10

Sen. Wyden: Cut taxes, build more breweries, create more jobs, buy more beer (and hops!)

Eugene, OR. Against the backdrop of the Ninkasi brewery in the midst of a major upgrade, Senator Ron Wyden (D-OR) made the case today that passing a federal bill that will slash taxes for small brewers will help crafties plow their savings back into creating more jobs.

“In a state that’s hurting, “ said Senator Wyden, “ the craft brewing industry is a magnet for investment and new jobs.” Flanked by brewers, hop and barley growers, OSU researchers and equipment manufacturers, Senator Wyden proudly noted that craft brewing is “one of Oregon’s core industries,” adding $2.33 billion to the state’s economy.

“A lower tax will open the door for new breweries to start up – breweries that will buy more hops and barley, build more breweries and hire more people,” said Sen. Wyden. Along with Sen. John Kerry, Sen Wyden has proposed a bill that will lower taxes on the first 60,000 barrels, which he said would provide the nation’s 1500 small brewers with an additional $44 million to invest in facilities and create jobs.

Indie Hops was pleased to be invited to speak as Oregon’s first home-grown hops merchant. My partner Jim Solberg , clad for the first time in recent memory in a pair of sensible black wingtip knock-offs (instead of his signature Berkenshire knock-offs), spoke of Indie Hops’ commitment to jobs.

“We invested over $2 million in a pellet mill, employing ironworkers, electricians, technicians and all sorts of specialists,” Solberg said. “We funded a first-ever aroma hops research program at Oregon State. And we’re contracting with local farmers to grow the premium hop varieties that craft brewers love.”

Earlier, Gayle Goschie of Goschie Farms, one of the heritage hop farmers with whom IH contracts, spoke of a decrease in acreage from over 6,100 acres in 2009 to around 5,100 acres in 2010, largely because the decision by Anheuser/InBev to cut its purchase of Willamette hops. “We’d like to make up for that deficit, and then some, by expanding our craft brewer customer base, putting in more hop acreage, funding more research and expanding our payroll and facilities, “ said Jim.

Oregon is the nation’s second largest producer of craft beer, behind our neighbor California, which of course has about 10 times the population. Oregon ‘s 78 breweries employ 4,700 full and part-time employees in 106 brewing facilities in 47 cities. Cool numbers.

Special thanks to Jamie Floyd, owner of Ninkasi, who hosted the press conference. Ninkasi’s phenomenal growth in a few short years in a local market stacked with craft cognoscenti sends a strong message that the consumer base is expanding commensurate with the escalating quality of craft beer nationwide. We haven’t even scratched the surface!

Oregonians are going nuts for craft. Eugene, with a population of about 150,000, sports six (6) craft breweries. Bend, where I live part time, with a much smaller population of around 80,000, boasts a whopping eight breweries. And we’re not done. The rumor is two, maybe three more breweries, are slated to join the fun in Bend’s (much ballyhooed but far from omnipresent) sun.

Roger Worthington
7/6/2010

West Coast Hop-A-Bout 2010: We love your pellets, we’re grateful for your investment, we admire your passion, but….

You load sixteen tons an' what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
St Peter don't you call me cause I can't go.
I owe my soul to the company store.
-- Jimmy Dean, hop dealer unknown

The setting: eager new hop merchant on hop-a-bout up the West Coast stopping off at craft breweries to field test big fat fresh 100% uncut Oregon-grown hop pellets. After six days and over a dozen brewer rap sessions, a dialogue blueprint has taken shape.

The dialogue goes something like the below. Note, this is a work of Rogue IPA induced fiction and none of the rhetoric is meant to be attributed to any particularly disgruntled brewer; as a whole brewers tend to be a "don't let the bastards grind you down" lot, as the happy-wappy snapshots attest):

Click here for more.

Less is More – Larry Sidor, Deschutes Brewery’s Head Hopster

Larry Sidor is a whole hop guy. It’s basically non-negotiable. Having worked for a Yakima hop merchant and an industrial brewer back in the day, Larry has seen first-hand the ravages that processing inflicts upon the noble flower. The Master Brewer for Deschutes who has brought us Abyss, Dissident, Red Chair IPA and Green Lakes Organic Ale (my personal favorite) is a big fan of fresh, wholesome ingredients.

“As a rule, the less we tamper with it, the more I’ll probably like it,” he says.

So you can imagine my trepidation as I walked inside the Deschutes Brewery in Bend with my cooler of hop pellets to meet up with our hop purist. As I told one brewer earlier about my hop ambitions, my goal is to one day create a hop pellet that earns the blessing of Larry Sidor, the High Hop Priestess. I was of course prepared for a polite but firm woodshedding.

What I got instead was a captivating tutorial by a man who not only knows his craft but is eager to learn more. Although Larry is a stickler for whole cones, occasionally, when a beer screams out for pellets (and he's a few bales short), he will listen. Larry had on hand four pelletted varieties from four different suppliers: three from Yakima and one from Germany.

The first noticeable difference was the diameter. Yakima numbers 1 and 2 were 4 mm diameter, Yakima #3 was 6 mm, and the French variety was also 6 mm. Our pellets were 6 mm, and in general they were longer.

The second detectable difference was the Yakima varieties were harder and more baked. A few showed tell-tale signs of “rat-tailing,” a new word I picked up which, as Larry, explained, meant a harder “shell” on the outside of the pellet, indicating excessive heat during pelletization. As previously reported, Indie Hops has been able to lower the temperature at the die of it's spanking new 'patient' pelleting mill without coolants to 104F – 110F, whereas the Yakima standard is 130F.

Third, the Yakima varieties crumbled into a fine powder, the French pellets broke up into a coarser grind, and the IH pellets offered the coarsest grind. I asked the Hop Oracle about the importance of the coarseness of the pellet grist to the craft brewer.

“You have to go back to the beginning. We started pelleting hops back in the mid 1960’s for one reason: whole hops occupied too much valuable space, which translated into higher shipping and refrigeration costs. By increasing the bulk density, we could store and ship more pellets at a lower cost. But the downside was a loss in hop quality.”

“There’s nothing magic about a 4 mm pellet. The smaller the grind, the more cut surface, which means more leaching of vegetative materials into the beer,” Larry rolled on, clearly enjoying his platform. “The English have used ‘plugs,” which are about 25 mm, which they inserted into the bunghole of the cask, but I’ve never seen them produced in the US. A puck-sized pellet with a coarser grind would be … interesting.


We then dropped the hop pellets into a pint half-filled with hot water. The IH brew had the biggest fluid absorption and fiber expansion rates. The pellets on contact sort of blossomed like a dehydrated chili of Brussels sprouts (or, maybe, like a chia pet?).

Next, we performed the flagpole test: we stuck a butter knife in the center of each solution to see if the mass was dense enough to hold the utensil firmly upright. The only Hell Broth to survive the “ramrod salute” test: Indie Hops. Thicker is richer.

Next we compared the pellet fiber expansion with the Real Deal, a cup of compressed whole hops (see photo below). During dry hopping, Larry puts the cones into a bag which he secures to the bottom of the tank. As he explained, the ethanol and Co2 in the wort combine to help extract the lovely oils from the lupulin.

Larry posited that a whole cone is better able to preserve the precious lupulin glands by virtue of a sort of “anti-oxidant barrier” contained in the tannins. “When you chop up the hop and rupture the glands, the only shield left is the foil used to bag the pellets,” he said, again in the easy manner of a professor with a boatload of diplomas. “The outer bracts of the whole cone, as well as the in tact membrane of the lupulin gland, provide a natural barrier to oxidation.”

This struck me as an interesting notion, the idea that the cone’s skin of natural anti-oxidants served to insulate the lupulin from degeneration. After class adjourned, I did a bit of digging. First, a bit of hop morphology. Most of the tiny, grandular lupulin glands are located at the base of the bract but others are scattered on the external bracts (or scales). Preserving all of them in tact sounds awfully difficult. The process of picking, drying and then tightly compressing the flowers into bales inescapably ruptures the glands, not to mention the agitation that occurs during transportation and storage.

In sum, a pristine hop for the commercial brewer is a worthy goal but, practically speaking, highly unlikely. At the same time, proper handling of the cone should be able to provide some measure of protection to the internal lupulin glands congregating in the heart of the cone.

Second, the theory that the flower’s natural anti-oxidants coat and insulate the glands from the ravages of heat and air has an elegant appeal, but is it supported by science? I’m not sure, not because I’ve ever done any hop research, which I haven’t, but simply because I don’t know.

I’m a big fan of tannins conceptually, which contain the powerful flavonoids quercetin and xanthohumol, but it’s my impression that the tannins are a chemical constituent inside the leaves and stem; they are not a structural component, nor are they located inside the glands. And, of course, while tannins offer promise neutraceutically, they don’t endear themselves to good tasting brews.

What does make sense is that the anti-oxidants, if they can survive whole cone or pellet processing, could contribute to the storage quality of the plant material. I’ll have to talk to my friends at OSU about that. Good hop food for thought.

In a nutshell, it’s hard for humans not to disturb the noble flower. To prove the point, Larry trotted out a foiled brick of Hallertau Saphir whole cones from Germany, which looked like it had been processed at the bottom of the Mid-Atlantic trench. In the effort to maximize bulk density, the Deutsch processor essentially crushed the cones flat as silver dollars, which doesn’t bode well for either the lupulin glands or the brewer trying to carefully measure out a quart or two.

Larry Sidor’s enthusiasm for hops and brewing is contagious. As my partner Jim says, “The day you stop getting better is the day you start getting worse.” Jim’s the son of a famous high school football coach, so his cornball fire-up clichés are forgivable. In a good but inspirational way Larry exemplifies this ballyhooed spirit of forever striving for higher quality.

”I’ve seen pellets from 2 to 4 to 6 to 7 millimeters. Why not pellet at 10 to 12 millimeters, or bigger?” Larry suggested, his mind churning with strategies for challenging the status quo. “I’m excited about the coarseness of your pellets, but why stop at a few hundred microns? Why not remove the screen from your hammer mill altogether? That would be perfect.”

“Perfect” as is in more like a whole cone. Larry, thank you, we’re on it. We’re here to challenge the pellet orthodoxy which elevates bulk density over oil preservation. Meanwhile, get ready to test out our new bigger and coarser pellets, you may be pleasantly surprised…

Roger Worthington
6/14/10

Chad Kennedy to Hop Merchants: Less Flower Powder, More Flower Power

Portland, Or. I recently sat down with Chad Kennedy, Brewmaster at Laurelwood Brewing Company, to get his unabashed feedback on our hop pellet design, coarseness, feel and solubility. Chad’s a perfect judge – he’s hard core about getting it right, yet he has a playful spirit that can turn impressively wonkish on a dime. He’s candid, calls it like he sees, feels and smells it, and if he had a dogma, I’m guessing it would be something hip like: question authority, but don’t be a jerk about it.

I broke out a sample of our Cascade hop pellets from the 2009 harvest at Goschie Farms (5.6% Alpha, 4.9% Beta). We pelleted these at our spanking new mill in late April after keeping them in cold storage since September 2009. Chad fished out a sample of 2009 Cascade pellets as well, processed by The Old Guard (I made that up), the farmer(s) unknown (AA 8.3%, doctor say’s whoa! That’s high).

That’s Old Guard pellets on the left, Indie Hops on the right. You can see immediately that our pellet diameter is twice as big. As Chad observed, “yours have a gummier, oilier, leafier feel . The other pellets feel dry. Your pellet appears to hold up better in packaging. The others are smaller, chipped, and fragmented. They’re friable.”

The dreaded friable word. A little context here. As an asbestos victims lawyer for many years, that word didn’t exactly conjure up a “warm fuzzy.” In the asbestos world, if a particle is friable, it means it’s tiny enough to be respired deep inside the lungs, where the fiber can work its venom on soft tissues. The last thing I ever want my hops to be called is ‘friable.” I transitioned from an asbestos lawyer to a hop guy for a simple reason – asbestos makes people suffer, and hops make people happy.

After rubbing the pellets, it was clear that the Old Guard pellets did reduce to a fine powder (picture the Turkish Espresso setting on the dial of your grocery store’s coffee bean grinder). Our pellets, conversely, were coarser. As Chad observed, “Yours look and feel like a hop plant. They’re true to the source. The others are pulverized just about beyond recognition. What are they? Alfalfa? Rabbit food? You can’t tell.”

After pondering a bit, Chad let go. “I mean, look. The purpose of pelletizing is simply to increase the hop density for ease of storage. That doesn’t mean you have to pulverize the plant into powder. You might get more weight, less volume, but is the quantity really worth the sacrifice in quality? Isn’t the point of our little craft beer revolution to put hand-crafted quality over mass quantity?”

Next we poured an equal volume of hot water onto an equal weight of hop pellets. Chad, clearly getting into the “plop, plop, fizz-bang” experiment, started his stopwatch. In exactly one minute, a clean line separating the hop material from the water appeared in the pint of Old Guard pellets (on the left). Meanwhile, the Indy Hop pellets were expanding as they absorbed water.

In about 2 ½ minutes, the strata of water in the Old Guard pint continued to grow, as the IH pellets remained buoyant and homogenous from stem to stern. What, if anything did this mean? Chad offered his brewer’s opinion:

“The goal is extraction. During dry hopping, we want to extract as much of the hop’s natural oil as we can. To do that with a pellet, we need to surround the particle with the wort. The gold standard for dry hopping is the whole cone, since it’s lupulin glands haven’t been nearly as damaged as much as a processed cone. But if the pellet particles immediately settle at the bottom of the tank, like a silt, then I’m not sure we’re getting near the flavor that we could with a less processed, or coarser pellet.”

To prove the point, Chad unholstered his red straw and stuck the business end into the green gook. In the Old Guard pint, there was greater resistance or push back at the base, indicating that the hop silt was hardening. Conversely, the resistance was much lighter but uniform from top to bottom in the Indie Hop concoction.

Again, what does this mean? Says Chad, “It tells me that a coarser grind in solution behaves more like a natural flower. A natural flower will float on top much longer than a finely ground pellet and slowly settle down, imparting its flavors all the way down. The coarser the grind, the greater likelihood of extracting a hop’s natural flavors.”

As for aroma, Chad passed both glasses around the brewhouse, which was blowing and going. The consensus was clear: the IH brew gave off a lemony, citrusy roma, whereas the other – not so much. As one of the rubber boot clad brewers summed it up, “The Indie Hop brew smelled more like it was supposed to,” that is, like a natural flower. True to the Source!

The true test of course will have to wait. Chad has agreed to an “apples to apples” comparison between IH Cascade pellets and that of one of Laurelwood’s traditional suppliers. We’ll let you know how that experiment goes.

Thanks Chad. And congratulations to Laurelwood’s rising success. We don’t expect to be handed a spot in the starting rotation simply because our pellets look pretty. We know we have to earn our place in The Show. To quote John Lennon, “All we are saying, is give Indie Hops a chance… and we hope we pass the audition…”

Roger Worthington

6/8/10

In Pursuit of Hop Heaven: Getting High at The Indie Hops Mt. Hood Cycling Classic

Hood River, Or. Two races under my belt, two to go. Building up a mighty thirst. Maintaining my one-brew-a -day discipline, but can’t wait to go rogue on Sunday just after I finish the windy-grindy criterium around the iconic Full Sail Brewery.

I plan to celebrate with a brew I just discovered today – Full Sail’s “Hop Pursuit.” Great minds think alike? I stopped by Full Sail after finishing the notorious Columbia Gorge time trial (can you say “intentional infliction of emotional and cardio-pulmonary distress”), hoping to chat with brewer Jim Kelter.

Exactly one year ago today, before we had a pellet mill, before we had farm contracts, I met with Jim to talk about our pursuit of noble hops. Then, Indie Hops was just a dream. He suggested I come back when we had hops.

My mission today was to get Jim’s feedback on the diameter, coarseness, oiliness, dispersal, entrainment and aroma of our hop pellets. As you may have read, we’re proud of our new “patient” pelleting mill, but the only opinion that matters is that of the brewers. Their feedback is critical in our mission to “get it right.” Our goal is nothing short of the best designed hop pellet using the best aroma hops in the world.

Jim wasn’t in, but I hope to hook up with him on Sunday in our VIP tent. Full Sail has been a long time sponsor of the Mt. Hood Cycling Classic. Their support of cycling has always impressed me. The cork-screw criterium around their brewery is like a roller coaster – you’re constantly diving, angling, swooping and sprinting. On a sunny day the course presents challenges. If it rains, better notify the local ER to bring in a few more trauma doctors.
Here’s something funny. Several months ago, we filed for a trademark on the phrase “In Hop Pursuit.” The phrase captures our mission to both breed new aroma hop varieties as well as resurrect a few of the unsung heroes. Plus it reminds me of the mixture of harnessed rage, nut crazy discipline, and unrelenting desire that helped me win a few medals as a pursuit-ist on the velodrome Back in The Day (way back in The Day!).
Thank goodness my lawyer’s instinct to file first and ask questions later has mellowed as I’ve transitioned from litigator to budding hopmeister. I’m hoping Full Sail’s Hop Pursuit is a huge success and I want to be part of that glory! Since tomorrow I’ve got to climb 10,000 feet over 92 miles with a mountain finish at Mt Hood Meadows ski resort , I’m going to hold off on draining this bottle of Hop Pursuit that’s staring at me.

I admire the label, but the ingredients are making my mouth water. From their website:

“We brewed it with the less aggressive, old school craft brewing hops– Cascade, Willamette, and Mt. Hood– to celebrate more of the hop flavor and less of the hop bitterness. These give the beer a nice and fresh citrus herbal character without a lot of intensity; instead it has a softly flavorful character with touches of orange and lemon. We dry hopped for two weeks to amplify these delicate hop flavors.” (http://www.fullsailbrewing.com/brewmaster-reserve.cfm

Yes! Here’s to the “old school” greats, brought to you by the People’s Hopmeister, Dr. Al Haunold, my hop Svengali. Normally, before a big race, I’d be nervous . Plus, since I won this race last year, I’d be feeling the pressure to repeat (see cool shot of this hop-fiend on point: http://www.mthoodcyclingclassic.com/rider-list/featured-riders ).

But not this year. Knowing I’ve got a 22 ounce bottle of Hop Pursuit waiting for me at the finish line virtually ensures that even if the race is pure wicked Hell, soon enough I’ll be entering hop heaven.

Praise Hell. Get to Hop Heaven.

Roger Worthington
6/4/10
Reporting from the Indie Hops Mt. Hood Cycling Classic, Hood River, Or. Hop On! http://www.mthoodcyclingclassic.com/

Do Your Pellets Pack Enough Punch? Field Testing from Pizza Port Carlsbad

I dropped by Pizza Port in Carlsbad, California this week to conduct a little impromptu field research with award-winning master brewer Jeff Bagby. The mission: compare Indie Hops’ type 90 pellets with that of the competition.

As reported, we’ve designed a state of the art pellet mill that’s sized and scaled to meet the needs of craft brewers. We’ve increased the average particle size of the grist and lowered the temperature at the pellet die in order to minimize damage to the lupulin glans, home of the rich and aromatic hop oils. We designed the mill with the goal of converting the form of the noble flower without excessively oxidizing the oils.

Pizza Port is near and dear to me. My wife and I have coached our kids for many years in basketball and soccer, respectively, and we wouldn’t think of holding our team “banquet” anywhere but their brewpub in San Clemente. The adults get to drink great craft beer (including outrageously awesome guest taps) and the kids get to run amok with all the root beer they can guzzle

At the 2009 GABF, Jeff won an amazing seven medals and Pizza Port Carlsbad was awarded the Large Brewpub and Large Brewpub Brewer of the Year. Not only does Jeff have the accolades, he’s also an incredibly polite, humble and decent guy who clearly loves his work.

Despite being pulled in about 12 different directions on a typically helter skelter brewing day, Jeff was kind enough to help me conduct a “field experiment” of sorts. I brought with me ice cold samples of our 2009 harvest, Oregon-grown Centennial and Liberty pellets. From Pizza Port’s cold storage, Jeff scooped up a jarful of pellets from the same harvest and variety, both from another supplier.

And thus began the adventure.

Does Size Matter?

The first noticeable difference was the diameter of the respective pellets. Our pellet diameter was ¼ inch; the other’s was 1/8. When we opted for a bigger diameter, our theory was that the less grist exposed to heat during pelleting, the less oxidation of volatile oils. As we’ve come to learn, the bigger the better.

Jeff broke up the pellets. IH’s pellet, he noticed, had a gummier, oilier feel and did not deconstruct into a fine powder. After concentrated finger work, the pellet broke up into small clumps. The other pellet was a tad harder, and the grind was far finer.

The Verdict: “The IH pellet feels stickier, gummier, and fresher. You can feel the oiliness.”

The Solution Dilution

Jeff then weighed out equal amounts of the respective hops and dumped them into pints of hot water. Both broke apart and dispersed at about the same rate. The IH pellets seemed to be more buoyant. They behaved, as Jeff observed, more like leafs from a flower, suspending longer and floating at the top. After a few minutes of settling, the other hop appeared to increase its density at the bottom of the pint a little more rapidly.

The Verdict: “The IH hop tends to resemble a whole flower when it hits the hot water. It’s a bit more buoyant, and there’s less water separation.”

The Exploding Flower Factor

The density of the hop-shake was substantially different. IH’s pellets blossomed into a thicker solution that resembled a creamy-clumpy milkshake. You could literally float a quarter on top of the IH “shake.” The other’s hop solution was thinner.

I had heard that the original sizing of the particles and circumference of the pellet was driven by the notion that a thinner solution would be easier to wash down the drain after the wort was sent to the heat exchanger. Jeff theorized that the thickness of the IH hops would not pose any sort of clogging problem. “We drain our hop residue into the public sewer system, which I’m sure can easily accommodate a coarser hop grind.”

The Verdict: “The Indie Hops pellets were like a thick Texas chili; the other was more like pea soup.”

What about the aroma?

Finally, the aroma. First, a disclosure. Jeff has been a brewer for over 10 years and he has been using The Other Guy’s Centennial pellets for at least that long. He is accustomed its aroma and uses their pellets in his award-winning Shark Bite, a hopped up IPA which is the beer I usually order when I bring my family to Pizza Port up the road in San Clemente. The point: Jeff is both accustomed to this hop and obviously satisfied with it.

Now then. Jeff noted that The Other Guy’s Centennial hop brew exuded a “sharp, skunkier, marijuana aroma.” The IH pellet, brew by comparison, had a “more herbal, spicy, peppery” aroma.

The Verdict: “I was amazed at the difference in aromas. Each had a distinct aroma, both nice, but the [Indie Hops brew] smelled fresher, greener. It’s incredible when you think they are the same variety harvested the same year.”

Pizza Port’s supplier of the hop in question was from Washington, but we don’t know where the hops were grown. Nor do we know exactly who pelleted said hops. The IH hops were grown on Goschie Farms in the Willamette Valley, Oregon. They were pelleted about 2 months ago at our new “patient” pelleting mill in Hubbard, Oregon, located only a few miles up the road from Goschie Farms.

Thanks Jeff, we appreciate your candid feedback. Throughout the session, I nursed a pint of Sharkbite, which featured the Other Guy’s hops. I loved it. It’s hard to imagine improving an already delightful taste, but like my partner Jim says, “The day you stop getting better is the day you start getting worse.” At Indie Hops, we aim to get it right. Brewer feedback is not only essential, it’s fun. It’s even more fun when it validates our theories about the linkage between pellet particle size, pellet surface area to volume , and pellet die temperature.

As another well respected brewer in nearby San Marcos, Tomme Arthur of Lost Abbey, recently suggested to me: if less oxidation is the Holy Grail, why not process cigar sized or even hockey puck sized pellets? Good question. We’re on it!

Roger Worthington
5/28/10