I could project that if I wanted, you know. But there’s no room for BS in brewvana.
So, with great expectations, I took a keg of my For Those About To Bock outside on a cold February night. The plan was to eis half of this ten gallon batch in a snow bank. Every so often, I’d check on it, shaking it gently to listen for the ice crystals to crash against the side of the keg. All too often, the assessment was not yet, and I don’t hear anything.
Day broke, and it wasn’t ready. I moved it to the north side of the house, to keep it clear of any sunny undoing of progress. That day, it warmed to just above freezing. Progress halted. In the afternoon, the temperature began dropping quickly. Hope returned. I checked, and I checked. Not yet.
Finally, it was around 8pm. I needed to deal with this. I wasn’t going to stay up all night after my frequent alarm-induced wake-and-checks from the night before. I was tired. So I brought the keg inside and set up to rack to another keg. There was a fair amount of slush visible. I cranked up the CO2 to push the beer to my second keg. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I worried that it had frozen solid on the bottom. I reversed the posts, so I could try blasting my impediment with CO2 in through the out door. A slow dribble. I stopped and grabbed a taster to grab a sample. Then, nothing.
By this time I was truly annoyed. Think! Think! I decided to take a warm water bath and try to melt whatever was causing the problem. Nothing yet. Nothing yet. I looked to my right.
At some point in all my switchings, changings, goofings and screwing aroundings, I lost track of whether or not the gas was on. I turned it on. It flowed like a raging river, with no rocks, logs or ice blocking its path. In the end, I didn’t really pull off much ice. More of a Really Cold Bock than an Eis Bock.
Good, but not eis. Oh, well. No sense in moaning. The lager rhythms complete, this beer is now on tap. Right tasty and a respectable first go at a lager.
Just not eis.