Raw ale ingredients and yeast
(Note: I will be making minor updates to this blog over time to address any errors or inconsistencies as I learn more and discuss the subject with experts such as Lars Marius Garshol and Mika Laitinen. Minor updates I won’t note, but I will include addendums for areas I feel need extra clarification. Each time I do this, I will update the “version” following this note.) - v 2.1
For raw ales, as with any beer, the sky is pretty much the limit when it comes to flavoring ingredients, but there are some that are more common traditionally than others. Also, the malt and yeast tend to play a large role in the flavor of these ales, so you may want to minimize the use of other ingredients while you get a feel for the interplay of these elements. The main thing that you’ll want to keep in mind is that, since there is no boil, you’ll have to find other ways to incorporate the flavors of herbs, hops and spices. Traditionally, if hops are used at all in farmhouse raw ales, they aren’t necessarily used as an intentional flavoring component; however, the use of hops and reason for using them can vary quite a bit by region.
To hop or not to hop?
The main reason for the use of hops historically seems to have been for their preservative effects and, to a lesser degree, for bittering. I’ve made plenty of raw ales without hops that never went sour and have heard others report the same. If you’re going to use them for their preservative and bittering effects, use low alpha whole hops (aged hops will work too) to ensure they have minimal effect on the flavor. Since you won’t be boiling the wort, there are a couple of alternative methods for introducing hops. Some farmhouse brewers simply make a hop tea by boiling hops in a small amount of water for about an hour, and then adding the hops (preferably in a cloth bag) and water to the wort. You can also simply add the whole hops to the wort in a bag, or run the wort through a bag of hops during lautering.
As Finnish beer writer and sahti expert Mika Laitinen explained to me in an email:
In sahti hops are rare (some brewers don't use any hops and some use so little that the ale is practically unhopped). As far as I know all Norwegian raw ales are hopped, but usually very mildly. Hop tea may not be so typical but running the wort through hops is. In Norway, running the wort through a bed of hops is a traditional method. This tradition probably doesn't extend back to the Viking Age but it may extend back to the late Middle Ages when the triumph of hopped beer began. All Lithuanian raw ales are hopped.
Laitinen added that he prefers the hop tea method: “In Viking Age Brew I advised to sieve the hop tea into wort but nowadays I use this method: boil the hops in water (around one quart for an ounce of hops) for one hour and dump the tea into the mash. This is simpler and works better with hop pellets.”
(Note for v. 2.0 of this blog — As I reference further on in regard to the use of herbs in historical brewing, there has been much written that has begun to be refuted regarding the historical use of herbs in brewing. The same goes for the use of hops, i.e., in that they weren’t used much historically before around the 1500s. This is true in England, but since most sources that discuss this are very Anglo-Centric, this isn’t necessarily the case for the rest of the world. As I begin to learn more from non-English sources and archeological research, I will write more on the subject.)
Brewing with juniper
In Finland and Norway in particular, juniper (Juniperus communis) serves in roles usually reserved for hops. One reason juniper is used often in Northern European farmhouse brewing is its prolificness (and that it’s the only type of juniper that grows in ). Juniper trees grow practically everywhere; hops plants, not so much. Also, juniper possesses antibacterial properties, although perhaps not as much so as hops. Some farmhouse brewers use a juniper infusion to clean their brewing equipment in preparation for brew day, and even use it as mash and strike water. Keep in mind that they are primarily using wood fermentation equipment; it is likely that the resin created by boiling juniper branches coats the surface, minimizing the chance for bacteria to gather in imperfections in the wood. Although Mika Laitinen notes in Viking Age Brew that many sahti brewers in Finland even sterilize their plastic equipment with hot juniper-infused brewing water, he recommends using modern sanitizers on plastic. Personally, I haven’t tried the juniper infusion method, but have found that avoiding chemical sanitizers and simply cleaning my equipment (plastic and otherwise) with very hot water and an oxygen-based cleaner such as One Step or hydrogen peroxide has resulted in many tasty beers.
The use of juniper, particularly for brewers in North America, can be a complicated thing to discuss. In my discussions with brewers across the country, and with brewers from Finland and Norway, or have traveled to one of these countries from the US, I’ve learned that the North American versions of juniper taste significantly different than their Northern European counterparts. When Mika Laitinen visited the US with me for a joint book tour, where we brewed a batch of sahti with Paul Arney of The Ale Apothecary, Laitinen and Arney decided to go with Oregon Fir rather than juniper, as Arney felt the juniper in the deserts of Oregon wasn’t any good for brewing. Arney is known for his philosophy of brewing with only ingredients he can source from the land around his brewery (and also has had first-hand experience with J. communis from a visit to Norway for the Norsk Kornølfestival), so I can safely say that his opinion is well worth considering. Mika noted that the berries he sampled in Oregon tasted nothing like Finnish juniper, which he says is difficult to describe, but is “very refreshing and needle-like but not resiny like pine or spruce.”
Paul Arney and Mika Laitinen cut down a small Oregon Fir tree outside of The Ale Apothecary brewery while Seth Klann of Mecca Grade Estate Malt looks on.
Personally, I have brewed raw and boiled ales with various edible North American varieties of juniper. I have yet to come across J. communis unfortunately. In my area (central-eastern Kentucky), and in much of the eastern US, Eastern Red Cedar (Juniperus virginiana) is very prolific. Native Americans and European settlers used the needles and berries in medicinal teas and to flavor meat. I have made raw ales with it, but the results so far have varied. Some of the early ones were drinkable enough, but the branches imparted a very sharp flavor. For others, the branches imparted only a subtle, pleasant bittering. The amounts used didn’t always seem to cause this sharp difference, so there may have been other factors. I haven’t used many of the berries, except in very small mead experiments, where they are flavorful but have a bit of a paint thinner aroma. Most of the branches I gather don’t tend to have enough berries on them to impart a noticeable effect in my raw ales.
Eastern Red Cedar (J. virginiana) Can be recognized by its tightly compacted, scale-like needles. Some trees will have “berries” (actually tiny pine cones) while others will have none.
Over time I have found that the more recent ales I have used J. virginiana in have been enjoyable and well worth repeating. I think this may be a result of trial and error and fine-tuning my process over time. In your own experiments, I wouldn’t say not to use J. virginiana, but I recommend trying out varying amounts, erring on the side of using less than more until you reach a balance that works for you. I also recommend using only the smaller branches, as larger, older branches may play a role in imparting an overly sharp flavor. Also, I suggest not using branches in the boil except maybe in the last couple of minutes if making a boiled-wort beer. I can almost say for certainty that this can result in sharp, unpleasant flavors. This is an area I’m continually researching and experimenting with, so I’ll update this blog as I learn more. I can say that I’ve brewed raw ales with a couple of smaller branches in the mash (not in the wort) recently that were quite refreshing and flavorful. This is the method I recommend at this point.
Eastern Red Cedar can either be mixed directly into the mash or laid at the bottom of your mash tun as a filter. This picture is an example of using way too much in an early brew, which was likely the cause of an overly sharp, pungent flavor. Use just a couple of small branches for a subtle flavor and increase carefully from there if you desire.
In the final entry in this series, I will provide some recipes for recreating my more successful raw ales. It is difficult to provide amounts, as there are factors such as location, age of the branches, and the season you gather them that may affect the final flavor. For a standard 5-gallon batch, I would say to use branches with the smallest circumference and to use no more than 2-3 branches of around 1-2 feet in length and 6-12 inches in width. You can also just use juniper berries if you have them. I wouldn’t use more than a cup or two per 5-gallon batch, but you’ll have to experiment with this, as some people enjoy the flavor of juniper more than others (just ask any gin drinker…).
When in the mountainous deserts of Durango, Colorado—where I travel every year (pre- and hopefully post-quarantine) for an annual herbalism festival put on by Plant Healer Magazine—I usually try to bring home some Rocky Mountain Juniper / Western Juniper (Juniperus scopulorum) and Prairie Sage (Artemisia ludoviciana) for brewing Colorado raw ales and meads. These are both highly aromatic plants and Prairie Sage (related to Mugwort / Artemisia vulgaris and Wormwood / Artemisia absinthium) can be quite bitter, so I use them sparingly. I enjoy raw ales made with Rocky Mountain Juniper more than those with Eastern Red Cedar, although it’s still not an ideal substitute for European juniper. My recommendation if you live in the US is to experiment with cedar, spruce, and fir and decide what works best for you. This is farmhouse brewing after all, so you should go with whatever is local to your brewery, and whatever works best for you.
Rocky Mountain Juniper / Western Juniper (Juniperus scopulorum) overlooking Durango, Colorado.
** Important ** These are the only species of juniper that I’ve researched and experimented with extensively. There are other species of edible juniper but please do your research, as some can be toxic. Also, take care where you forage (avoid busy roadsides for instance), and only take small amounts from a single tree. You don’t want to harm the tree or yourself. Ornamental junipers (Juniperus sabina and Juniperus oxycedrus) are known to be toxic, as is yew (Taxus baccata), which is not a species of juniper but can be confused with edible conifers.
Other herbs
Prairie Sage (Artemisia ludoviciana) is common in the mountainous deserts of the Southwestern US.
There are a number of different herbs that can be used in brewing. I’m not going to cover them all here (my books and Mika and Lars books all go into detail on several of them). A classic in the genre of herbal brewing is Sacred and Herbal Healing Beers by Stephen Harrod Buhner. I must put in a disclaimer here, though. I have brewed extensively from this book, and have made many tasty herbal brews. I, along with other beer writers, have been guilty of writing about the historical usage of herbs in ales using information from perhaps dubious sources (see my note on this below). I have researched books, historical sources, and archeology papers, and herbs are often referenced in regard to historical brewing. However, some more intrepid researchers have recently begun refuting the claims of the use of herbs in brewing simply because they were able to go back to original sources (many of them not in English) that show little to no evidence of herbs in brewing. Some of the most commonly discussed, particularly in regard to gruit ales, are Bog Myrtle (Myrica gale), Yarrow (Achillea millefolium), Sage (Salvia officinalis), Rosemary (Salvia rosmarinus) and Ground Ivy (Glechoma hederacea).
I feel it is my obligation to take care to not reference these herbs as being used specifically in herbal brewing until I am able to delve more into these sources myself. However, I still hold that, at least in more modern history, herbs are great to brew with and many have done so with success. Hence, I will keep brewing with them and sharing recipes when I can. Just keep in mind that you can also make a tasty raw ale with nothing more than malt, water and yeast. Herbs can be fun to play around with for a bit of extra character, but keep their influence minimal if you really want to get the full effect of a malty raw ale.
(Note for v. 2.0 of this blog — it has come to my attention that this is a contentious subject with beer historians. The use of these herbs for brewing has been mentioned in several books and journal articles, but as Lars Marius Garshol noted in an email, he is dubious about these claims, as he has yet to find direct evidence in historical or archeological sources.)
Brewing with kveik (Norwegian farmhouse yeast) and bread yeast
I primarily use kveik and bread yeast in my raw ales, as these are what have been used traditionally. Bread yeast can potentially cause some funky off flavors, as it tends to have bacteria not present in modern “clean” yeasts. In my mind this is simply part of the deal. Most times it produces pleasant, if not a bit odd, flavors for me. Rarely have I brewed something with bread yeast that I find completely undrinkable. Obtain Finnish bread yeast for sahti if you’re able (I haven’t), or just use good quality store-bought bread yeast. Some folks have had luck using sourdough yeast, including this brewery that has even produced a book on brewing beer with sourdough yeast. I tend to prefer kveik, but bread yeast has produced some plenty drinkable raw ales for me.
I’ll talk a bit about my personal experiences using kveik, but I’ll point you to Lars Marius Garshol’s blog and book (see my review here) if you really want to geek out about it.
Kveik is its own completely separate category of yeast. Every culture behaves differently, and some cultures have additional bacteria. Generally, kveik you order from a homebrew supplier will be “cleaned” of all additional bacteria so only the Saccharomyces cerevisiae (brewing / baking yeast) remains. If you obtain kveik that has come straight from the original farmhouse brewer or has been passed along by another homebrewer, there is a chance it will have additional bacteria present (according to Garshol, the chance is about 50/50). This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, I prefer to brew with the original farmhouse cultures if I can. The kveik cultures I have used thus far are Voss, Stalljen, Geiranger and Lutra. There are many more, and a detailed rundown of all kveik cultures known so far (and their individual qualities) can be found in this database that Lars Marius Garshol updates as often as he is able.
There are also various forums on the internet where people talk about their experiences with kveik and share cultures. I’m very much an experimental, non-technical brewer and therefore can’t speak to the technicalities of brewing with the various cultures as well as some can. I recommend Milk the Funk’s Kveik Wiki and the Facebook group Brewing with Kveik as a starting point if you really want to delve in. I can tell you that for the most part, my experiences in tasting raw ales made with kveik match those noted by others whose experiences I’ve read of. Voss produces tropical flavors, with hints of pineapple, mango, and orange peel. When Mika Laitinen sent me Stalljen and Geiranger, he noted in an email that Stalljen produces a strong citrus flavor and is ideal for “blonde and refreshing beers.” Geiranger, he said, is ideal for malty beers, as it doesn’t produce fruitiness, but imparts a “nice candy flavor which enhances maltiness.” I followed his notes and the results were very close to what he noted. It’s tough for me to pick a favorite. At first, I preferred Stalljen when I split a batch between the two, but Geiranger has produced several very tasty brews for me.
I’m looking forward to working with some Voss Mika recently mailed to me from Finland that he has been saving and reusing in his home brewery. It was propagated from the original culture (which contained many strains) procured by Lars Marius Garshol in 2014, and therefore isn’t the “pure” culture available in homebrew stores. Mika has also written a comprehensive set of blogs answering many of the questions he has received about kveik over the years. I encourage you to check it out, as it’s much more in-depth than my brief overview. This one in particular goes into the most detail on how to use kveik: Practical Guide to Kveik and Other Farmhouse Yeast: Fermentation.
Some dried kveik from Sigmund Gjernes’ brewery in Voss, Norway.
As for Lutra, Omega Yeast notes on their website:
Isolated from our Hornindal Kveik (OYL-091) culture, Lutra is shockingly clean with unrivaled speed when pitched at 90°F (32°C). The strain is perfect for brewing a refreshing pseudo-lager without the lead time of a lager. Lutra is your worry-free way to navigate the evolving demand for cold ones.
I have been very pleased with my Lutra brews so far. I don’t know how lager-like I would call them, but they have turned out light and refreshing with hints of fruitiness, a pleasant malt flavor and a smooth, silky mouthfeel.
Using kveik in raw ale
Since there are so many different strains of kveik, and I’ve only worked with a few, I’m not able to provide specifics on how to work with each strain. I’d recommend the above-mentioned database as the best source for that. I can, though, provide you a general overview, which I have also done in this article. One of the greatest assets of kveik is that it is generally very forgiving if used within a fairly broad range of parameters.
The main areas where kveik differs from most other yeasts is that it
a) works best when underpitched,
b) prefers high temperatures, and
c) loves high-gravity worts.
It also produces all manner of unexpected flavors, from fruity, citrusy, tropical flavors, to mushroom earthiness, to candy-like flavors. For pitching, Lars Marius Garshol recommends about 1 teaspoon of slurry per 25 liters (6.6 gallons) of well-aerated wort. I mostly use dried kveik, around a teaspoon or two per five gallons (20 liters) sprinkled over fresh, hot wort (to be honest, I usually just take a small fingerful and sprinkle it over the wort without measuring). Kveik (depending on the strain) works best at temperatures ranging from 68° F (20° C) to 104° F (40° C), most preferring the higher ends of the spectrum. I’ll admit that I have no way to control fermentation temperature other than keeping my fermenter next to a heater vent wrapped in a sleeping bag in the winter, or on the back porch on during summer heat. I usually try to pitch at the higher end since I know the temperature will likely drop below what I’d prefer to keep it at.
Most people say that kveik begins fermenting very quickly, although I’ve found that most of mine tends to take off somewhere around 8-12 hours (perhaps sooner since I usually leave it overnight before checking). This is perhaps because of my lack of temperature control. I have learned that I may also possibly be overpitching, or not starting with “healthy” yeast by creating a starter early enough in advance. I will keep working on that. Regardless, though, once it does take off, it tends to ferment very quickly. Within 12 hours my wort has already dropped a couple of gravity points and is starting to taste like a flavorful, malty ale (this is also when I scoop the krausen off to dry and save). Within 24 hours I’m usually scooping some into my haarikka or drinking horn and enjoying a pint or two. In about a week I usually rack into a bottling vessel and just decant from the spigot until I decide I’m ready to bottle in a few days. For some batches, I never bottle, or only put in a couple of bottles for aging. Fresh, raw ale brewed with kveik is some of the best beer I’ve ever had, although the bottles I’ve aged for a few weeks to a few months are flavorful in their own way. Most of my kveik raw ales are from high-gravity worts, ending at anywhere from 6-10 percent ABV. I have had a couple that have finished at a little less than 6 percent, but I haven’t noticed any loss in quality.
(v. 2.1 update — I admit that I may have overestimated the time it takes for my kveik to ferment. It’s more like overnight (maybe 6-8 hours or so), although some seem to take several hours into the next day. Lately, though, my kveik brews have been fermenting much quicker. I’ve finally managed to brew with the Voss kveik Mika Laitinen provided me that I reference above. I pitched about half of the 3-gram packet Mika provided in about a cup of wort starter I gathered earlier in the brew day. and added this to the wort once it dropped to between 90-100 Fahrenheit, and it was showing activity in just a couple hours. Within a couple of days it had dropped several gravity points and was already quite tasty. A success I would say!)
Some kveik that I dried on a piece of wax parchment paper.
Kveik can also be used to ferment mead and cider, but some extra care has to be taken. I haven’t used it in cider; honestly, I make very little cider, so I can’t speak to that. Also, since there are so many strains of kveik, and each has its own little quirks, each strain may behave differently in meads and ciders. That said, I have come across people on social media who have successfully used kveik in mead and cider. Personally, I’ve made a couple of session meads with kveik and was very pleased with the results. I aim to continue experimenting more. Since kveik is used to having loads of nutrients due to its intimate relationship with high-gravity ales, it likely has no need to produce its own nutrients. For this reason, it’s a good idea to add nutrients, particularly if making low-gravity session meads or ciders.
As with ale wort, keep mead and cider must at 90° F (32° C) to 100° F (38° C), from pitching through, if possible, at least the first 24-48 hours of fermentation (longer if you have a way to keep a consistently controlled temperature). Even with the addition of nutrients, my mead experiments thus far have taken several weeks to fully ferment and attenuate. So, much shorter than most high-ABV meads and a bit longer than most session meads. This isn’t to say that yours won’t ferment quicker. I’m still pretty early in my experiments with kveik mead and hope to write about that more in the future.
Although I would love to share my kveik with others, at the moment I am not ready to. As of the writing of this blog, I am on my fourth generation of Stalljen and Geiranger, which I have been drying on parchment paper set on a baking pan on low heat (see here for how to do this) in my oven. I have no idea what kind of bacteria I’m imparting and can’t guarantee that any I share will be the same quality as the original. That, and I still want to experiment with what I have. Hopefully I’ll have some to share in the future but for now, there are plenty of people sharing them online, and several homebrew suppliers sell various pure strains.
(Important addendum — I somehow missed one of the most important steps when working with kveik: the gjærkauk (yeast scream)! It’s pretty simple: when pitching the kveik, scream as loudly as you can to scare away evil spirits and ensure the yeast wakes up and thrives. You can just scream the loudest guttural nonsense you want, or use a Finnish yeast spell like Mika and I did with Paul Arney of The Ale Apothecary at about the 3 minute mark in this video. Skal!)
Sources & Resources
I have read through so many books, journal articles, websites and forums in researching traditional and historical brewing that at this point it seems to have all coagulated in my brain into an organism with a life of its own. I guess you could say I’ve been infected by the raw ale bug. The list below is by no means comprehensive, but it should provide you with a starting point if you want to study this more in-depth or check my sources. Some I have already mentioned in this blog series, but I’ll provide them here for convenience (including shameless promotion of my own books). I should note that most of these aren’t primary sources. There are many more sources, often in other languages than English, that may or may not refute these sources. I will continue to research these sources the best I can, and encourage you to go back to primary sources when possible when researching this subject. It’s a never-ending (and often frustrating) journey, but fun all the same!
Viking Age Brew: The Craft of Brewing Sahti Farmhouse Ale
Historical Brewing Techniques: The Lost Art of Farmhouse Brewing
Brewing and Beer Traditions in Norway: the social anthropological background of the brewing industry
Sacred and Herbal Healing Beers: The Secrets of Ancient Fermentation
The Homebrewer's Almanac: A Seasonal Guide to Making Your Own Beer from Scratch
merryn.dineley.com (ancient malt and ale)
Brewing with Kveik Facebook Group
Eastern Red Cedar Berries, A Touch of Natural Flavor
Skål!
Photo taken (by me) at the Skål Beer Hall in Seattle during my 2019 Viking Brewing tour of the Pacific Northwest with Mika Laitinen (pictured left).