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The fiance doesn’t drink “that” kind of beer.
I don’t fault the guy. It’s just not his thing. I get it. His ideal evening is in the garage spinning wrenches on whatever project happens to trip his trigger. Right now it’s fixing up a Allis Chalmers behemoth of a tractor complete with hydraulics. Soon he’ll be re-painting it it’s legendary (nearly) day-glo orange and she’ll be nearly complete. He just need to name her.
But… in the handful of times I’ve brewed he seems to make an appearance for at least part of the process…
I think he’s curious.
So, to pique things a bit more I (along with several brew aficionados — which included 2 lovely ladies from Shiny Hoppy People) brewed an American Ale. The guy at the place I get all my “stuff” said this is about as close to your run of the mill macro’s someone can get without brewing out all of the flavor.
In a near future post I’ll break down the recipe as best I can… but for now, cross your fingers I can slowly keep moving the fiance to the dark side.
The Girl Can Brew 