The art and science of brewing the ideal beer at home.
By: Chris Karmiol
Just like any self-respecting fraternity, the members of this organization congregate regularly to drink lots of beer. But conversation at their gatherings goes far beyond the sound of perpetual burping, and wardrobe includes anything but a toga.
The members of PALE ALES (Princeton And Local Environs Ale and Lager Enjoyment Society) are well dressed professionals, and dialogue at their meetings leans toward the qualities of various yeasts, outcomes of different brewing techniques and debates on whether "hoppiness" or balance is preferable in a beer.
PALE ALES members work in insurance, education and the medical fields, among others, but what draws them together for monthly, beer-soaked meetings is their shared hobby: homebrewing.
"There’s a lot of people that like beer a lot of beer geeks," said Kevin Trayner, a Web designer, sitting in his Hamilton kitchen drinking a glass of what else beer. "Not many are going to go the extra step and say, ‘You know, I’m going to make this stuff.’"
Mr. Trayner does, but he’s not just any beer drinker; he wrote the book literally. Author of The Beer Drinker’s Handbook, Mr. Trayner is a homebrewer and a proud member of PALE ALES, a dedicated group of "beer geeks" who meet regularly to share their brews.
"Homebrewers are a different crowd, like colonists," Mr. Trayner explained. "People who settled the United States had to do different jobs make butter, sew clothes. Homebrewers are in that same class rebels, individualists, frontiersmen."
Another homebrewer (a beer rebel, if you will), Joe Bair fits that very description. Tall, with a wispy nest of hair and a long gray beard, Mr. Bair served in the Navy, went through aviation school, worked for Princeton University, sold jet planes, and now he runs the area’s only homebrew supply store: Princeton Homebrew on Witherspoon Street. He founded PALE ALES seven years ago and is a local guru of the homebrew crowd.
"My career path takes a swing every five years or so," he said. "Usually I found, (with) most of my other jobs, I never had so much one-on-one teaching experience as I do with beer … people get stuff, call me up on the phone, I give instructions, they make stuff and come back for more."
The homebrew business, for Mr. Bair, is not a big money maker. But he said that running his shop (which resembles an old general store, stocked with cases full of grains, cans of malt extracts, bottling supplies and books) is the most gratifying job he has had. To Mr. Bair, who spends much of his day talking about beer and how it’s made (with his customers who come from all walks of life, including, he claimed, a couple of Nobel Prize winners), homebrewing is more than just business.
"I live this stuff," he said. "You’re really learning all the time. There’s no end to it. There’s new nuggets of information all over the place."
Federally legalized in 1978, homebrewing became legal in New Jersey in 1991. Nowadays most any style beer, from local microbrews to obscure imports, are readily available at liquor stores. But many of the homebrewers in PALE ALES started making their own because, years ago, they couldn’t find a beer on the market to satisfy their discriminating tastes.
Some had traveled to England or Germany, where beer strength and flavor surpassed most of what was found locally a decade or two ago; others spent time on the West Coast, where the "hoppier" (more bitter and aromatic) beers, like Sierra Nevada and Anchor Steam, made an impression. After enjoying those beers, for many drinkers, a Schlitz would simply no longer do.
Homebrewing has been Mr. Bair’s pursuit for the past two decades. During his West Coast Navy days, he fell for those massively hoppy beers, which sparked what is known, in beer circles, as the "microbrew revolution." That movement inspired several smaller craft breweries and countless brewpubs like Triumph (on Nassau Street) across the country.
That most magical of all beer ingredients, hops are the resinous herbs added in the beer-making process to provide bitterness and aroma. Mr. Bair is a self-described "hop head."
"In the beginning there wasn’t very many hoppy beers anywhere," Mr. Bair explained. Like most homebrewers, he can talk endlessly about beer. "Everybody liked balanced beer that’s what they preached in brewery school. When the microbrew revolution came around, they threw all of those balance things out the window and hopped the heck out of it."
Hoppier beers, fans say, have a more refreshing, fizzy-clean taste that goes well with spicy foods. But not all homebrewers are hop heads, too. Andy Koontz, a television documentary editor, and his wife, Laurie Harmon, a prosthetics designer, both prefer a more balanced home brew.
"We’re not actually that adventurous in our brewing," Ms. Harmon said. "We’re more traditional."
On a recent rainy Sunday afternoon, the couple got together with the president of their homebrew club to make a 10-gallon batch of a British-style stout, a robust-flavored dark beer. Jazz played in the background while they worked in tandem to make their drink of choice. It was the couple’s 58th batch, brewed together in their Princeton home.
Rain prevented them from brewing on their back deck, where they usually fire up a Cajun cooker to make their beer in a 13-gallon kettle pot. But they made do indoors, using a converted beer keg in the "mash" process (which involves making "wort," the sweet liquid extracted from steeping malted barley grains, that forms the basis for beer) and transferring it into two big stainless steel pots on their kitchen’s stove top. At the end of the four-to-five-hour brew process, they submerge the pots in their bathtub, full of cold water, to chill.
Watching the long homebrew process, at times, is about as exciting as watching water boil which is why beer was invented. A continually flowing supply of the couple’s 57th batch keeps the proceedings interesting. The homebrewing process is similar to that of making soup though the result is far less sobering.
Like many area homebrewers, Mr. Koontz and Ms. Harmon began their foray into beer-making with the purchase of some basic supplies from Mr. Bair’s store and a book: The New Complete Joy of Homebrewing by Charlie Papazian. The book, widely known as the bible of homebrewing, serves as a springboard into the craft, and has welcomed scores of new brewers. But several members of PALE ALES said the best way to improve the quality and consistency of your homebrew is to join a brew club like theirs.
Chuck DiSanto, a Princeton architect and homebrewer, said that exposure to more experienced homebrewers in PALE ALES helps him to continually improve his beer.
"Everybody here knows more than I do," he said at a monthly PALE ALES beer tasting, "so I just sit back and learn. I’ve learned to appreciate how many different points of view there are with beer."
And there are many. Homebrewers are an opinionated bunch, with different ideas, tastes and philosophies about their favorite drink. The members of PALE ALES take their beer-making and beer-drinking seriously, and the level of debate between them is far from merely "less filling vs. great taste."
"They’re all beer lovers," said Tom Stevenson, the professional brewer for Triumph. "That, you can count on."
Though not a member of PALE ALES, Mr. Stevenson, who brews an average of 75 gallons a week for Triumph’s beer-drinking patrons, began his brewing career as homebrewer with a book, a thirst and a dream.
"I happened to read a lot about it," he said of his homebrew beginnings. "It sounded fun and easy, and you can drink it. I thought, ‘I’ll give that a try,’ and then I was hooked."
But what was the major motivation behind his years of homebrewing? The same as it is for most who have the time and the patience to make their own beer. It’s plain and simple, he said: "Keeping myself supplied."

