It's that time of year again it seems (no, not talking about the seemingly bi-annual posts to this blog) – the time of year when it becomes a good idea to poke around in a hedge for a hop leaf, and pick whatever hop cone may be attached to it. Now hop growing is a tricky business – as demonstrated in the falling acreages grown commercially over the last 20 years. After all, why put time, manpower and effort into a field of hop bines that may not be any good come harvest because someone drove a V8 Range past last Wednesday, when you can stick some Oilseed Rape in the soil, and ignoring the cries of the hayfever sufferers, grow some stupidly expensive bio-fuel to power an empty bus stuck in traffic on the Cambridge ring road. Now, armed with that very basic understanding of hop growing (and we haven’t even touched the million and one factors that influence whether the harvested hop is any use for brewing), hands up who is going to and wander the hedges of this fair land on the basis they may find something worthy of putting in some beer.
Do you use the hop cone found on the M11 slip road? What about the one hop plant growing up the back lane, alongside the path the local dogs like to mark their territory along? The on in the hedge alongside the filed that has just been dosed with the sort of chemical Saddam Hussein never seemed to actually posess (although give it another 45 minutes, it might still turn up). And just how many hops can you find? Commercial hops are dried as soon as they leave the field (or Hop Yard, to be correct…). This is an expensive process in itself, so it stands to reason that it is doesn’t done for the hell of it. No, it is done because all the compounds us brewers need are somewhat unstable (like most brewers), and so drying helps to preserve them. Without drying, the hops are effectively useless within a few days, unless you increase the volume used by a very large amount. Given that fresh hops are very light for their bulk, you soon get into the realm of a small van just to add a hint of flavour to a commercial brew. And that is a lot of hops. More hops than even MP could claim for.
So, having wasted several hours looking for something that you know nothing about beyond what it is, then not having even the faintest idea what, if anything, it will do for you lovingly crafted brew, you realise that you’d better only put a very small amount in, and make the volume up with hops that have a decent provenance. Now I am sure their are some ‘wild hop’ beers that are brewed with an appreciable proportion of wild hop, but I know of some over the years that have had barely enough hop for a cup of tea, let alone the 500-odd gallons of beer purported to have been brewed with them. Now I have some experience in all this – several years ago I spent a few hours with a pub landlord, clambering through bushes and assisting in breaking numerous regulations about ‘working at heights’ (that’s ladder use to you and I), just to get some hops. Some was the total volume obtained, so we resorted to picking crab apples, nettles & sloes just to bulk it all up. The result was enough for 5 whole gallons of beer (yes, a whole 5…), that took as much time to brew (properly, with real malt and everything) as it takes us to do 500-odd now. The result I am told was drinkable – it had all gone by the time I got to the pub the night it went on sale…
So, if you see a ‘wild –hop’ beer, take it with a pinch of salt. Probably literally. But if you do want something different, try a ‘Green Hop’ beer – I am thinking in particular of those brewed by Teme Valley in Worcestershire. Not only do they use only green (ie freshly picked) hops, but they are hop growers as well as brewers, so know what they are picking and doing. Indeed, in true Buntingford style, you’ve just missed their ‘Green Hop’ beer festival. Sorry, but you’ll know for next year…