If you haven’t paid close attention, you may have missed a cool beer festival that was added to our local scene a few years ago. With the minimalist name Beer Fest, it’s a benefit for the Humboldt Historical Society and the Clarke Historical Museum, held this year on Aug. 1 at Dell’Arte, a great venue for an outdoor party.
I like fests like this: small scale, chill. And I enjoy being on either side of the table, tasting or pouring my homebrew — sometimes toggling between both. This fest was especially laid back. Kids played Jenga. A juggling exhibition broke out. There was live bluegrass on stage. It was sunny and I was thankful for the easy-up.
To give props where they are due, Humboldt Cider Co., Powers Creek Brewery and Paskenta Mad River Brewing poured their brews in support of the nonprofit hosts. I was with the Humboldt Homebrewers, a set of batshit alchemists who will ferment almost anything. Among all of us, commercial brewers and hobbyists, there were more than two dozen brews to sample. I’m pleased to see several non-alcoholic choices, not for me, but for somebody.
Nancy Noll poured her Nasty Woman West Coast IPA, a brew with marvelous hop aromas. She’s brewed this recipe for 10 years, capturing significant awards along the way. Kenny Berry had several offerings, including his take on a traditional Mexican brew (made with pineapple peels, spices and piloncillo sugar) called a Tepache. There were 10 of us Tetris-ed together under our little tent.
We answered attendees’ questions about brewing and on joining the club. We cracked jokes with each other. There was vigorous discussion about outdoor cats. We shared notes and feedback on each other’s beverages.
“Not on purpose” came up at times as an answer to questions like, “Do you brew sour beers?” and, “Have you ever made the same beer twice?”
I was pouring an Old Ale, a strong old-timey brew that put me through an absolute wringer for most of this year. I began that brew day months ago with some older liquid malt extracts; these tend to oxidize and darken with age. While generally not a good thing, an Old Ale is expected to be dark and tolerates some oxidation, so it was a good use of this liquid malt. At the end of the day, the original gravity — the amount of sugars in the unfermented brew — came up high. That’s fine, more alcohol per ounce for everyone. But the fermentation stuck, meaning the yeast crapped out before their job was done. This never happens to me; in 13 years of brewing, I’ve had one other stuck fermentation. I added enzymes to break the sugars into more fermentable bits. I deployed three additional yeasts, including a champagne yeast that should turn crude oil into water. No luck.
I even tried a method from before Louis Pasteur let us know what yeast was and walked the brew around. In those days, they would roll the barrels around the yard. I held the carboy to my voluminous gut like it was a baby goat and circled the living room.
I left my hydrometer, an instrument that looks kind of like a thermometer and measures the gravity of the liquid, in the fermentation vessel. Cemented at a reading of 1.040 for weeks, just too sweet, the hydrometer looked like a single middle finger, bobbing in the dark brew, mocking me.
Over months, at a glacial paste, the readings eventually dropped. When it hit 1.029, high for the style but acceptable to me, I declared victory. By then, it had crafted itself into a wonderfully complex, sherry-like sipper with notes of dried fruit, oak and maple. Bottle conditioned, there is just a hint of carbonation, a tickle on the palate. I named it Lazar’s Old Ale, after Stephen Lazar, a friend, past president of the Historical Society and a guy who once told me that beer should have the carbonation of Old Faithful (I’m paraphrasing).
Most brewers value feedback and criticism. One guy, potentially a Lazar plant, said my ale was solid but needed more carbonation. A club member said it was rather good for a new Old Ale but will be better with age. Both fair points. I’ll put it up for a while, let it continue to mellow and carbonate, and bring it to another event down the road.
My beer was nowhere close to the most popular. That’s often the case for me. But there were several people who told me it was their favorite and that also happens a lot. I once received a dual marriage proposal from a mother/daughter pair based solely on one of my — on purpose, I swear — sour beers.
So no, Lazar’s Old Ale did not conquer the lovely Beer Fest 2026. It merely survived months of sabotage by physics, lazy yeast and my own limitations, then found its people anyway.
Michael Kraft (he/him) consults part-time. In his free time, he is involved in the community in various ways, occasionally ferments something, and writes about Humboldt’s nonprofits and businesses and its beer/wine/cider scene. You may reach him at michael@kraftconsultants.com. Connect with the Humboldt Homebrewers via their Facebook page: facebook.com/groups/humboldthomebrewers.
This article appears in ‘The Next Wave’.