Nostalgia is a powerful thing. Sights and smells and tastes can literally snap you back to a point in time — memory instant replay, no matter how much you might have suppressed it or thought it had faded away.
Sometimes it is faint, like the aroma of peaches as you walk through a peach orchard that remind you of the smell of peach cobbler coming from your grandmother’s oven. Or the flavor of strawberry in a clear beverage unexpectedly reminding you of how delightful strawberry jello was in your childhood. One of the most classic examples, and a perfect visual to the experience, is in the Disney movie Ratatouille, when Remy makes the simple dish for a harsh, closed-off food critic that surprises him with the memory of the dish his mother cooked him for comfort when he was young.
For me it is beer, or I should say malted grains, and I would never have believed how that smell could reconnect me with my past and set me on a path leading to my future.
The Beginning
It all began in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, in a little town called Golden, with a brewery by the name of Coors. Golden has a country-western feel due to the gold-mining history of the area and its location at the base of the front range. The town’s byline is “Where the West Lives,” stated on a sign across Golden’s Main Street that greets those who pass under with “Howdy Folks! Welcome to Golden.” The main tourist draw in Golden is the Coors Brewery. Coors is the largest beer brewing plant in the world that is located on a single site. It is massive, nestled against Table Mountain. It was in Golden that I attended grades 7 – 12. For six years at the height of my growing stages, I inhaled the clean crisp air of the Rockies laced with the distinct fragrance of hops and grains. It was intoxicating. I never understood what specific stage of the brewing process contributed to my wanting to stand outside in the cool air inhaling what has become an association with home. I would find out 30 years later.
Refining the Palate
After graduating high school, I headed to architectural school at the University of Colorado at Boulder. Most people went to parties on campus and at fraternities and sororities. I found myself at the microbreweries, sampling flights and looking for that smell of home. Boulder became the center for the craft brew revolution because of a gentleman named Charlie Papazian, “the Johnny Appleseed of good beer.” After college, he and a friend happened upon Boulder and decided to stay, and he has been there ever since. He is known for founding the American Homebrewers Association (AHA), for his beer-making bible, The Complete Joy of Homebrewing, and for his motto “Relax. Don’t worry. Have a homebrew.” Papazian’s story was told in Smithsonian Magazine, in an article by Matthew Shaer entitled “The schoolteacher who sparked America’s craft brew revolution.”
A Change in Profession
Through what I believe was a mid-life crisis, I decide to leave the architectural field and embark on a media adventure. The Bella baton was passed to me in May 2019. I am the third owner in 18 years. In June of 2019, I moved to my studio in downtown Aiken, next to the brewery. I would see a gentleman sitting outside the brewery at 9 am drinking beer (quality control) every Friday morning. I was curious and stopped to ask what he was doing. He told me his name was Randy, he was the brewmaster at the brewery, and he was brewing beer. The glass in front of him was quality control. After talking with him, I thought his story would make a good article. It would be a year and a half before I returned to the brewery to find Randy still there on Fridays, calculating the previous week’s beer consumption, planning the next brew, and drinking beer for quality control.
An Awakening
A life-changing moment happened New Year’s weekend this year. Many people were looking forward to the end of 2020 and a new beginning in 2021. I had no plans and have always questioned why the dropping of the ball is expected to usher in a new reality. Well, was I in for a surprise! On a very last minute, unexpected whim, I headed to Asheville New Year’s Day for the weekend of a lifetime. It was a dream trip. There was not a single obstacle to overcome. Everything was fantastic — the food, the people, and the craft beer. I was shocked at how many breweries there are in Asheville. The nostalgia of the smell of the malted barley and the complexity of craft beer awakened my senses. Over the three-day weekend I managed to visit Hi-Wire Brewing, Black Mountain Brewing, Ben’s American Sake, Urban Orchard Cider Company, Twin Leaf Brewery, Wicked Weed Brewing, Green Man Brewery, and Chemist Spirits. I went home starstruck, wondering where the next adventure would take me.
An Education
I didn’t have to travel far — right out the front of my building into the Aiken Brewing Company next door. Where else do you go to revisit the amazing memories you just created than the closest brewery around? And who did I find on a Friday sitting at the bar? Randy. I knew as soon as I saw him that it was time to find out exactly how the smells from my youth originate.
Randy Doucet embarked on his passion for brewing in 1995. He was trying to decide between a table saw and a radial saw for some woodworking around the house. He had picked up a magazine on woodworking and was reading an article that compared the two saws. He told me, “I like to do research before doing anything.” He had just taken some cold medicine and was having a hard time following what the article was trying to convey. As his eyes wandered over the pages, they landed on a postage stamp-sized ad for a kit to make your own beer at home. It was pre-internet, so he called the number and placed an order. He received enough low quality stuff to make two beers that ended up terrible. The next step — he and several others started the CSRA Homebrew Club, the first one in the area. He started off as the Secretary, later became Vice President, then President. What do you do when you become good at home brewing? You find yourself a brewery. The Aiken Brew Pub opened its doors on St. Patrick’s Day in 1997. Randy became a brewer August 23, 1997 and has been brewing beer there ever since.
He never bought a saw.
What’s Next
I was invited to the brewery that Sunday for my first mash out. As soon as they opened the door to the mash tun, there it was — the smell of the cooked malted barley. I finally saw firsthand how this intoxicating smell is created. Now I am hooked. Since then I have attended the brewing every Sunday morning to learn more about the craft beer brewing process. I was also given a very special tour of the Savannah River Brewing Company, and I attended the Aiken Homebrewers Forum. What do you do with all of this amazing information? Well, if you are a writer, and especially if you are a magazine publisher, you write a series of articles. I invite you to follow along with me each month on my craft beer adventure.
