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Ancient peoples did not have microscopes but they knew there was a unique and
special substance that came through the air and caused the wort to become ale. And to
all ancient and indigenous peoples it was considered sacred and magical, filled with
power.
Ancient Norwegian terms for this substance are suggestive of how it was thought
of - its meaning: gjar - working, gjester - foaming, berm - boiling, kveik - a brood
that renews a race, nore - to kindle a fire, bryggjemann - brewing man, and fro -
seed. All the terms are suggestive: there is a boiling, a fire being kindled, a new
race being born. The commonness of terms associated with burning, boiling, and
kindling a fire, for instance, are interesting. Yeast works through a rapid oxidation
of the sugar, a kind of burning. And when they are their most active the brew, the
wort, actually bubbles energetically. And this association is clearly a part of older
terms for yeast. A term meaning "boiling" is used throughout the world. And when
preserved yeast is added to new batches of beer, it is a brood renewing a race that
has been dormant (and it is interesting that kveik comes from the same root word as
kvaser - the Nordic being from whose blood the original beer, the "mead of
inspiration," was made).
The Charoti of South America view the moment of yeast activity as "the birth of
the good spirit" in the wort. But the Charoti say that there are many bad spirits that
will try and prevent this birth. So they sing and play musical instruments while
exhorting the fermentation to begin. Once the good spirit enters the wort, they say,
it is powerful enough to stop any bad spirits from getting into the beer. Throughout
the ceremony of encouraging the good spirit to enter and begin fermentation the
Charoti singers keep their attention focused on the essence of the good spirit,
calling its intelligence into awakening, urging it to hear their call, exhorting it to
come to them and settle into the home they have prepared for it. Hearing this without
prejudice and comparing it to the perspectives of Western brewers, it is not so very
different. We wish only one yeast, the good one, to come and ferment our beer. And we
take steps to prevent the bad ones from getting there first. We know, too, that once
the good yeast is in the wort, it is very difficult for a bad one to gain entry. We
place our emphasis on sterility and using store-bought yeast. But those cultures who
depend on wild yeasts use prayer to influence its appearance. Though superstitious to
our Western way of thinking what is truly surprising is not only the prevalence of
this belief among the world's peoples but the effectiveness of the brewing based on
it.
The Tarahumara of northern Mexico brew a beer called pulque from the sweet sap
of the agave cactus. And they too pray to usher in the spirit of fermentation. Like
the Norwegians they believe that they have to be of particular mindfulness when the
moment comes because if they are not, if they do not hold the "space" for the spirit
to enter the wort, it will not ferment. The Tarahumara call it "boiling" when
fermentation begins and they use special fermentation jars that are considered sacred
and are never washed. Once a jar "learns to boil" it is placed near other jars (filled
with unfermented pulque) that have not learned how to boil so that they might be
taught to do so. Interestingly, the Tarahumara place wormwood, an Artemisia species on
top of the covered jars once they start fermenting to "frighten away the evil spirits
who might want to spoil the liquor." Artemisia is strongly antibacterial, antiseptic,
and antifungal - it can be used in the treatment of yeast infections.
The Ainu, the indigenous tribal culture of Japan, see fermentation in much the
same way. When the wort is ready, they circle around it and make prayers and offerings
to Kamui Fuchi, the hearth goddess and guardian spirit. They call on her to protect
the wort from the intrusion of "bad spirits" that can infect the wort and help bring
the good spirit to awaken their rice or millet beer into potency. In return, like the
majority of cultures on Earth, they make an offering of the first drink of beer,
poured onto the hearth. While the beer is fermenting they chew quantities of mugwort,
another artemisia species, and place it around the brewing vessel to protect it from
infection.
One of the major teachings of ancient and indigenous cultures is that yeasts,
like other plants, respond to being talked and sung to, to being "treated like a human
being." Most beer recipes suggest the use of a domesticated, store bought, yeast. But,
if you can bring yourself to experiment, you might try making some of them with wild
yeast. When the wort is ready you might leave it out, uncovered, in a container with a
wide opening. Then sit near it and begin to talk with the spirit of the yeast - to
call on the bryggjemann or kveik to come - and see what it is like. To do so means
reconnecting to an ancient tradition of fermentation - to connect to the thousands of
wise women and wise men standing over their brewing vessels in small villages around
the world calling on the spirits of fermentation to come to the wort and kindle the
fire in it. Once you have brought a wild yeast to live at your home, like the
Norwegian brewers, you can place a carved stick in the fermenter and allow the yeast
to fall deeply within its carvings. When the beer is finished take the stick out and
hang it up to dry somewhere out of the way. At your next fermentation take it down and
place it in the fermenter and call on it once again to awaken to life.
If you do take the risk to call on a wild yeast and the wort turns out badly,
what will you do then? you might ask. The ancient brewers might answer, "Perhaps you
will have to dance harder the next time." |
