I can’t cook. Like I really can’t cook. I tried grilling a chicken breast a few weeks ago when my wife was coming home from work late. You know what she came home to? A house full of smoke, dog barking at the blaring smoke detector and me yelling at a pan full of burnt chicken. So why the hell would I think I could brew beer? Must be the hardheadedness I get from my dad.
I had a free weekday, no work and no wife, and saw the homebrewing kit I’ve had for months starring at me. I popped the DVD in and watched the poorly made and poorly instructed training. Went out to the store to get a thermometer and decided to give it a shot. 48 or so Irish Stouts on their way!
Here’s my adventure:
After having to do a load of dishes to empty the sink, I sanitized my pot and various equipment using the Easy Clean provided in the kit. I placed everything I could think of out on my island and surrounding countertops. I read and reread my notes and warned a friend who just started homebrewing that I’ll probably be frantically calling him over the next couple hours.