Forks in the Road Loral Saison/lager
I brewed several variations of this recipe in 2020. Those brew days and those beers went a long way toward helping to keep me sane. My favorite version featured lemony Loral hops, so let’s just go all the way with that.
Batch size: 10 gallons (38 liters)
Brewhouse efficiency: 72% OG: 1.048
FG: 1.002/1.006
IBUS: ~35
ABV: 6.2%/5.5%
MALT/GRAIN BILL
18 lb (8.2 kg) German pilsner
HOPS SCHEDULE
1 oz (28 g) Loral [10.5% AA] at 30 minutes 1 oz (28 g) Loral [10.5% AA] at 10 minutes 1 oz (28 g) Loral [10.5% AA] at flameout 3 oz (85 g) Loral [10.5% AA] at whirlpool 2 oz (57 g) Loral at dry hop (for the saison)
YEAST
Omega OYL-500 Saisonstein and Fermentis Saflager W-34/70, or whatever saison and lager strains you prefer.
DIRECTIONS
Mill the grains, mash in at 144°F (62°C), and rest for 30 minutes. Raise the temperature to 160°F (71°C) and rest for 30 minutes. Then raise the temperature to 170°F (77°C), rest 10 minutes, and mash out. (This is a pretty classic multistep mash; see “Short and High: The Hochkurz Mash,” beerand brewing.com. If you want to keep it simple with single infusion, aim for about 149°F/65°C for 1 hour.) Sparge the grains and top up as necessary to get about 12 gallons (45 liters) of wort—or more, depending on your evaporation rate. Boil for 90 minutes, adding hops according to the schedule. After the boil, whirlpool and cool to 180°F (82°C), add the whirlpool hops, and wait 20 minutes, allowing the hops to settle. Chill to 68°F (20°C), aerate well, and rack into two fermentors.
The Saison:
In one fermentor, pitch the saison yeast. Ferment at room temperature, about 72°F (22°C), without worrying if the temperature rises on its own. After about a week, add the dry hops. After another week, crash, package, and carbonate.
The Lager:
Cool the other fermentor to about 48°F (9°C) and pitch plenty of healthy lager yeast. Ferment at 50°F (10°C) for 2 weeks, or until fermentation is complete. Then lager at about 34–36°F (1–2°C) for at least 4 weeks, or longer. Then package and carbonate. yeast in that half and that yeast in the other half? What if I dry hop with this variety here and with this other variety there?
However, the quantities aren’t that relevant: You can split any size batch into smaller ones, as long as you have enough fermentors.
Here are some possibilities, far from exhaustive:
▪ Pitch different yeasts and/or bacteria. ▪ Dry hop one and not the other—or try different hop varieties or blends thereof. ▪ Add fruit or other ingredients, or different fruits, or add them at different times.
▪ Bump the gravity and lighten the body with sugar—and darken the color, if adding dark candi syrup.
▪ Try different fermentation temperatures.
▪ After the boil, run half the batch through the chiller, but leave behind the other half for a whirlpool and extra hop burst.
▪ Wood age half a batch but not the other, or try different woods or barrels.
My own variations are usually limited to different yeasts, fermentation temperatures, and dry-hop regimes. Why? Because the two things I like to brew and drink the most are saison and lager. They’re a natural pair for split-batch brewing: similar grists (often 100 percent pilsner) and compatible kettle hops (usually Noble, but I play with New World varieties, too). Another split I tried this summer was a Berliner weisse, where one half was “clean” while the other got Brett and a bunch of blackberries.
Each fork in the road will lead to other forks and eventually to destinations you might not otherwise have considered. It will also lead to you having more choices on tap or in your bottle stash.
So, what are the disadvantages?
It does take a bit of planning (but not much). And if you’re not already going to use two fermentors, then it represents extra cleaning and sanitizing (but not much). There is also something to be said for being able to focus on making one type of beer the best you can, rather than dividing your attention. It’s very possible—nearly inevitable—that you’re going to like one beer better than the other. So, you could just focus on perfecting the one beer you’re most likely to enjoy.
Do I always make two good beers that way? Oh, hell no. (That blackberry beer was a disaster, to be honest.) But I’ll tell you this: It’s always educational. Every single time.