Finding the right size of pot
The dream required a bigger pot. And so, without delay, we spent the afternoon trying to find a pot that was big enough.
Let’s back up. Son #2 is into zymurgy. Not the garbage shipped around in bottles to a store near here for him. Authentic requires getting back to fundamentals. Barley, hops, water and time. Oh, and some yeast, but that’s just a detail. From what I’ve gleaned in listening, the wort must be boiled, and for that he required a pot large enough to prepare a batch of corn, or lobsters, or a turkey (as it turned out).
We started with a tour of the local flea market. Largest crowd I’ve ever seen; parking was way, way down in behind. Little matter. Although he did find a couple of 18 litre water jugs with carrying handles for a tenspot, the elusive pot was not on site. Milk pails that I’d be proud to call my own, but nothing of sufficient size. And so we headed crosstown to another, outdoor market. Similar results. And the traffic was worthy of rush hour, but that’s just a detail.
Third on the list, a camping goods store. Almost right. And up and over the rise, a Canny Tire… with a pot and burner assembly. Just right. Pack it away and head on home. No wort preparation today, but we could have.
Son #1 and company stopped by right around supper time; a good excuse for me to disappear and do groceries. We’re now good for the start of the week. The two dogs kept a watchful eye on me over steak and salad. Yes, a crouton will fool a greedy hound into thinking life is good.
