Remember when we said we were going to have cider in cans in June? Very naive. Big swing and miss. Not even close. Let's chalk that one up as lesson # 324 on over-promising and under-delivering. Message received: when planning any project, triple the cost, quadruple the time, raise the number of expected headaches to the power of 10, and then count yourself lucky if you can even hit that mark.
Our current status is:
We have our new canning line (VERY, VERY, and I cannot express enough how VERY underwhelming our output efficiency will be with this bad boy, but we still have a little drool going when we look at it).
We have our new keg filler/cleaner, which should cut a 12 hour fill session down to 2. Words don't begin to explain how much of an improvement this is.
We have a massive pile of cans (that's less than half of them).
We have a fresh batch of cider just dying to suit up and get in the game.
The last step is having a rep from our can supplier come by (Monday or Tuesday) to make sure everything goes smooth with the seaming (If you don't know, the can comes in two parts, body, and end, with the end being the top of the can. The can is filled, the end is put on, and the two are seamed together). If that is successful, we will spend the next week doing nothing but canning cider. Just writing that makes me giddy.
We hope you're thirsty, because it's coming...
-Downeast
Friday, August 17, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
Kegging: The Extinct Method
I was just writing an update of our can situation, and I got really sidetracked explaining our process for kegging up to this point (hopefully it's been replaced by our new keg filler/cleaner). It got really long, so I figured I'd give it its own section. Without further ado, this is the story of our stupid, disorganized, poorly thought-out, ill-put-together, and all-around terribly constructed method for cleaning and filling kegs:
1: fill a small tank with water
2: hook up a large hose through a pump, and down an absurd number of (very slightly) incrementally smaller hosing to eventually pump into a keg through a sort of broken (just broken enough to make you swear at it, but not enough to buy a new one) coupler. *Note: make sure the hoses are attached ever so delicately, so the slightest brush or kick knocks one of the peices apart, sending whatever is in the hose flying around the room like an angry snake. One person will jump on the hose, the other will panic uncontrollably before figuring out how to shut off the pump.
3: Shake now-heavy keg violently. *Note: make sure to use a lot of back, as everyone knows a strong core is key to a fit body.
4: repeat with 100 kegs
5: Attach hose to carbon dioxide tank, fit kinda broken coupler onto keg, flip heavy keg upside down onto a couple of wobbling standing kegs (note* make sure to let the 50 lb keg fall on your fingers every now and again so as to keep your senses sharp), turn on CO2, wait a couple minutes for keg to drain, turn off CO2, flip over again, remove coupler, grab new keg, reattach coupler, repeat.
6: Once all 100 kegs are filled and drained, repeat entire fill, shake, drain process with caustic cleaning solution that you have mixed up in another tank (note* the caustic solution is like soap on steroids, and will slowly eat through your skin, so make sure to wear gloves to trap the caustic water in your marinating mitts so as to be sure you are getting full chemical exposure all the time)
7: Now you're done
8: Just kidding, do the whole thing over again with water. Every damn keg
9: NOW you're done
10: Just kidding, do the whole thing over again with sanitizer. Every damn keg. Also, make sure that every once in a while you accidentally put your head over the concentrated sanitizing solution and take a big, hearty breath. This way you'll have a rough approximation of what it might feel like to suck a balloon full of glass shards into your skull.
11: Enough's enough, you're done
12: Nope. Do that whole thing again with water.
13: Now you're fingers are bruised, your hands are oddly slippery and feel like they're covered in soap (don't worry, they're not, it only feels that way because the caustic has burned through your dead skin...and live skin), your back is as strong as Larry Legend's, you've sweat through your clothes, and you're covered with all sorts of cleaning chemicals because the hose fell apart 10 times. You're ready to fill!
Without going into detail, filling is slightly less frustrating (you're covered in delicious hard cider instead of cleaner), takes just as long (6-8 mins per fill for 100 kegs), and while your fingers get a break, your back just picked up landscaping duty because a full keg weighs more than Tyler. Try picking up Tyler 40 times, moving him across the room, flipping him upside down, and balancing him on a pallet.
Who wants an unpaid internship!
1: fill a small tank with water
2: hook up a large hose through a pump, and down an absurd number of (very slightly) incrementally smaller hosing to eventually pump into a keg through a sort of broken (just broken enough to make you swear at it, but not enough to buy a new one) coupler. *Note: make sure the hoses are attached ever so delicately, so the slightest brush or kick knocks one of the peices apart, sending whatever is in the hose flying around the room like an angry snake. One person will jump on the hose, the other will panic uncontrollably before figuring out how to shut off the pump.
3: Shake now-heavy keg violently. *Note: make sure to use a lot of back, as everyone knows a strong core is key to a fit body.
4: repeat with 100 kegs
5: Attach hose to carbon dioxide tank, fit kinda broken coupler onto keg, flip heavy keg upside down onto a couple of wobbling standing kegs (note* make sure to let the 50 lb keg fall on your fingers every now and again so as to keep your senses sharp), turn on CO2, wait a couple minutes for keg to drain, turn off CO2, flip over again, remove coupler, grab new keg, reattach coupler, repeat.
6: Once all 100 kegs are filled and drained, repeat entire fill, shake, drain process with caustic cleaning solution that you have mixed up in another tank (note* the caustic solution is like soap on steroids, and will slowly eat through your skin, so make sure to wear gloves to trap the caustic water in your marinating mitts so as to be sure you are getting full chemical exposure all the time)
7: Now you're done
8: Just kidding, do the whole thing over again with water. Every damn keg
9: NOW you're done
10: Just kidding, do the whole thing over again with sanitizer. Every damn keg. Also, make sure that every once in a while you accidentally put your head over the concentrated sanitizing solution and take a big, hearty breath. This way you'll have a rough approximation of what it might feel like to suck a balloon full of glass shards into your skull.
11: Enough's enough, you're done
12: Nope. Do that whole thing again with water.
13: Now you're fingers are bruised, your hands are oddly slippery and feel like they're covered in soap (don't worry, they're not, it only feels that way because the caustic has burned through your dead skin...and live skin), your back is as strong as Larry Legend's, you've sweat through your clothes, and you're covered with all sorts of cleaning chemicals because the hose fell apart 10 times. You're ready to fill!
Without going into detail, filling is slightly less frustrating (you're covered in delicious hard cider instead of cleaner), takes just as long (6-8 mins per fill for 100 kegs), and while your fingers get a break, your back just picked up landscaping duty because a full keg weighs more than Tyler. Try picking up Tyler 40 times, moving him across the room, flipping him upside down, and balancing him on a pallet.
Who wants an unpaid internship!
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