Brouhaha with Brewmaster Manager

On Wednesday I had a manager at Brewmaster, where I buy my beer supplies, tell me it’s my fault the pale malt I bought at his store wasn’t milled properly. I was supposed to rip open the packaging at the store and check it before I left.

 Really?

 I made plans with my friend Dave to brew twice this September and once in October, brewing batches of imperial stout, India pale ale, and a pale ale. So Labor Day weekend I called Brewmaster and made sure they had the ingredients I needed, including 65 pounds of pale malt. I asked the clerk to mill the grain for me, so it would be ready when I got there, then drove down to San Leandro pick it all up.

 As I selected the other grains I needed, carapils, crystal, and chocolate malt, plus all the hops and the yeast, the clerk brought the heavy grain bags up front; he’d taped them shut with packaging tape.

 It was only he and I in the store; we talked and joked together a bit as we piled up all the stuff. I shelled out about $140 for all of it and drove home; on Labor Day Dave and I brewed the stout, and it wasn’t until I sparged the mashtun (where the hot liquor extracts the starches from the grains, creating the wort) that I noticed many of the kernels of grain were intact.

 Dave and I tasted them, and sure enough, many of the soggy kernels still held a lot of starch. The grain hadn’t been fully milled. The specialty grains were all milled, so I had the starches of the chocolate malt (giving the wort a nice dark color), crystal, and carapils, and the wort showed some of the starches, but it was obvious, looking at the half-spent grain, we hadn’t gotten all of it.

 But at this point I’ve got a brewkettle approaching a simmer, full of wort. And a weekend afternoon schedule to keep. We finished brewing, and I made a note to check the grain for the batch of IPA.

 And sure enough, when I weighed out the pale malt I needed for the IPA and hauled out my pain-in-the-butt hand-crank malt mill, the grain wasn’t finished. I had my wife scoop cups of grain into the hopper as I cranked the mill, and it was a lot of work, as I was fully crushing the grain. When we brewed the IPA the next day, the grain was spent, the way it always had been in the past, including the many times Brewmaster had milled it for me.

 So I made a note to call Brewmaster and tell them what had happened, and see what they might do to make good on a weak batch of imperial stout. (I mean, what to call it now? Thin stout?)

 I first spoke to someone named Laura, who apologized, and told me the manager, Chris, would get back to me. He called me back, and first tried to tell me it was my fault for not inspecting the grain before I left the store.

 Really? His clerk had used packaging tape to seal the heavy bags so grain wouldn’t spill on the drive home. I was supposed to rip it all open? 

 He apparently saw the futility of his argument, so he proceeded to question me on how I knew it was half-milled and tell me it was my fault because I should have used an iodine test rather than tasting the grain to determine if there were starches left, and then tell me I should have known to soak the grain longer to extract the starches, on and on.

 We went around in circles several times—what did I need an iodine test for to tell me what was obvious, the kernels were intact? My approach wasn’t scientific enough for him. It was my fault for not soaking the grain longer in the mashtun to extract the starches, rather than keeping to our schedule, etc.

 I wasn’t annoyed when I first called, but I certainly was as the call progressed and he kept repeating the same things. Different grains call for different mills, he told me. It was my fault for not making sure the right mill had been used for that grain.

 So it’s my fault his employee used the wrong mill to half-crush the grain they sold me?

 Here’s a picture of my little hand-cranked malt mill I use at home:

And here is the bottom of it:

You can see how the mill cylinders are attached through metal plates. I’d have to take the mill apart and drill new holes to widen or tighten how it mills. Never, ever, in all the times I’ve used this mill have I ever had to widen these cylinders or tighten them to mill grain more finely.

 I looked in my records to see how often I’ve brewed. This stout was the 36th batch of beer I’ve brewed on my own, using this equipment. I’ve bought supplies before at Oak Barrel Winecraft in Berkeley, but far and away have gone to Brewmaster most often for supplies. I’m guessing 30 of those batches have been brewed with ingredients from Brewmaster.

 Never before have I had this problem, but now it’s my fault for not tearing open the packaging tape and inspecting the grain at the store, or using an iodine test at home (what the hell difference would testing it make?! The starches were still in the grain hulls).  Here’s a handful of the half-milled grain straight out of the bag:

And here it is even closer, so you can see some of the cracked open malted barley, with the white starches revealed.

Clearly, a lot of the grain is intact.

Our schedule would have been thrown off if we’d even known to extend the mash. I’ve got a propane tank firing up the kettle with 10 gallons of wort in it. But I’m supposed to shut all that down and research how long to extend the mash to make up for his clerk using the wrong equipment? I don’t even get how uncrushed grain hulls are supposed to leach the starches by extending the mash …

 Needless to say, the call didn’t end on a good note. I still need the grain milled, but now I’m tempted to write directly to the storeowner and tell him about the quality of service his manager offers. Sheesh!