Sometimes I feel as if I should have existed in a different time. I should have been born a century ago or more.
I think the world post-invention of the train and bicycle but before the automobile would have suited me well. A time when books and newspapers were widely available, but before television appeals to me.
There is a word for this–Anemoia–defined as “nostalgia for a time or a place one has never known.”
Of course, I know my quality of life in these times of modern medicine and innumerable conveniences is probably a whole lot better than any previous time. But it is fun to fantasize.
In fact, I recently had the opportunity to live in the past–for one weekend anyway.
I volunteered at Old World Wisconsin, a Pioneer Village-style museum situated on 600 acres in southern Wisconsin near Eagle. My job–a 19th century brewer of beer.
My mother-in-law, Ellen, who works at Old World Wisconsin during its summer season recruited me for the job.
I have brewed my own beer at home for many years, so brewing beer the old-fashioned way was easy for me to pick up. The process is the same as I do at home, just without the conveniences of propane and electricity.
Old World Wisconsin’s brewing building is not some century-old structure though. It’s old in style, but newly built thanks in large part to a $500,000 donation from the Cleary-Kumm family, descendants of the G. Heileman Brewing Company—makers of Old Style and other well known Midwestern beers.
Heating water and brewing the beer itself is done in copper kettles over open flame.
Visitors to the brewery are offered an opportunity to participate in the process. Children are invited to turn a crank that grinds malted barley into a finer consistency. The grains are mashed—or steeped in hot water for an hour or so. The wort—or unfermented beer—is separated from the grain and then boiled. Whole cone hops, grown either at Old World Wisconsin or nearby, are added at the beginning and end of the hour-long boil.
Finally, the beer is transferred from the copper kettle to a large square pan to cool. Once the wort goes down to 75 degrees, it’s put into a wood-stave tub, yeast is pitched and fermentation ensues. After a few weeks, once fermentation is complete, the beer is packaged in either glass bottles or wooden casks.
Much of my time as a brewery assistant was spent interacting with the public, answering questions about the brewing process.
Q: What is beer made from? Me: Water, grain, hops and yeast.
Q: What time period are you portraying? Me: Mid to late-1800s.
Q: How did they measure alcohol back then? Me: They might’ve had hydrometers, but they probably didn’t measure, just tasted.
Q: How did they paint that old building over there? Is it whitewashed? Me: I have no idea. It’s my first day.
After learning about the brewing process, guests are invited to taste free samples of the rustic beers produced at Old World Wisconsin. They can also buy commercially produced beer from local breweries—some of which were brewed in collaboration with Old World Wisconsin.
Obviously, the best perk of my volunteer gig was that the beer was free.
In the interest of historical accuracy, I did drink a little on the job. In fact, up until modern sanitation practices were learned, it was better to drink beer than water from a health standpoint. Alcohol killed the microbes in water that sometimes made people sick.
Beer is literally bittersweet, and so is this story.
Ultimately, both the beers I helped brew were soured from fermenting in summer temperatures that were too hot and never offered to the public.
Maybe I don’t want to exist in the 1800s after all. Temperature control sure is nice.
So my historical brewing journey remains incomplete. I guess I’ll have to go back a century or two and try again next year.
URColumn #52 083023
Urban Rural Column 