So, I’ve affixed labels to the Farmhouse Eleven. I think they turned out pretty well. They were kind of big (since the text is so small), so they only went on the bomber bottles. The OG (1.055), FG (1.010), and ABV (6.19%) are written in pencil on the side.
I changed the label a bit by taking out the color out of the movie screenshot and altering the quote on the bottom to be more accurate (yes, I am a dork).
Now more faithful to the film!
Fellow internet beer geek and independent music aficionado Zac Early, wrote up a nice post about beer labels and album covers the other day. You should check it (and the rest of his blog) out here. He has created some pretty cool labels for his own homebrews. A favorite of mine is the one he made for his “Big Black Bitter.”
Ol' Dirty Bastard drawing by Eric Reynolds
Last weekend, we bottled our Farmhouse Eleven at Jeff’s place. We tasted a sample and the flavor seemed to be on track. The final gravity was about 1.020, which will give it an ABV of 6.19%. We used a combination of 12 oz. bottles and 22 oz. bombers this time and, as it turns out, we had just enough to divide evenly three ways.
Once the bottling was finished, we packed up Liles’ share and headed up north to Longmont for some “research.” We gathered at Liles’ house with our significant others and piled into the Lipe-mobile. Our first destination: the Left Hand tap room.
A lot has happened since Nookie Day. We realized that a 40 beer yield does not translate into lots of beer for everyone. I’m down to my last four bottles of Nookie after our “release party” bacchanal and giving out samples to friends and coworkers. It’s cool though, since the reviews have been pretty good so far. I gave a bottle to DJ and John over at Little’s liquor store, my local beer purveyor, hoping for some constructive feedback. They liked it so much, that they put it on their “Wall of Fame,” which is made up of beers they love, but can’t sell. It’s pretty flattering for the Nookie to be lumped among New Glarus and Bell’s. Our empty bottle now sits next to Bell’s Two-Hearted Ale behind the register. Since I’m the beer-buying equivalent of what casinos call a “whale,” I hope they just weren’t being nice, but I think they genuinely liked the beer. Continue reading