
It may be a short pour, but this is my short pour.
Last week, I doubled my homebrewing capacity by buying a larger carboy. A sane person would choose to brew exclusively out of that large carboy. But not I - I’d prefer to brew on consecutive weekends and have two full carboys at once stashed in a big box in my kitchen. And then maybe - just maybe - I’ll take a weekend off next weekend, but an empty carboy will be sitting in my kitchen screaming to be filled with more beer. I cannot stop brewing.
What’s amazing is that apart from my very first homebrew - which taught me some valuable lessons - I haven’t had any unmitigated disasters (knock on wood). I’ve had some undercarbonated beers, but they still had solid flavor and aroma. I probably could’ve passed them off as cask beer. But each beer has been better than the last. And that what keeps me going: my beer will never be perfect, but it could be better.
I read about homebrewing for a year before I finally started doing it myself. Reading book after book after book before steeping a single grain certainly helped, but there was no replacement for spending two and a half hours sweating it out over a stove and meticulously sterilizing equipment. But all that labor is well worth the finished product, especially when it’s good.
When it’s really good, you get a brewer’s high: the thrill of watching your friends taste your beer and seeing a smile come across their face when they realize that yes, homebrewed beer is not only drinkable, but can be quite delicious. And that thrill turns to sheer ecstasy when you realize, that yes, you made that beer. You wrote the recipe. You didn’t use a kit. You didn’t use extract. On a small scale, you did what the pros do, and while you may not have the equipment, the consistency, or the expertise, you can get pretty damn close. And it all happened in your tiny apartment in the East Village with an undersized stove, undersized sink, undersized counter, and undersized closet. You did it. And somehow, it worked.
The challenges are steep when you brew in New York, but the rewards are huge.
In the coming weeks, Brew York, New York will meet many homebrewers around New York City who share this addiction. We’ll tell you their stories, discuss their creations, and prove that good beer doesn’t have to come from a tap at a bar at a cost of $7/pint. It can come from your friends and neighbors, too.

