|BACKGROUND|

My first experience with a chicha beer was Off Color’s Wari. It packed a light hibiscus/cranberry-esque tartness with a refreshing, crisp lightness. Packaged in a clear bottle, it almost looked like a wine cooler with its vibrant pink color.

However, it wasn’t until I found Garrett Garfield’s homebrewing blog about his adventures of brewing with South American corn that I truly got bit by the bug to try it myself. His experiments with multiple different varietals was not only great to show that it is doable, but also how the corn can affect the brewing as well. We talked a little bit via email about it, and I can’t think him enough for the bits of knowledge he was able to share with me.

Now, it’s worth mentioning that this is technically a hybrid of two different style of chicha – chicha de jora and chicha morada.

Chicha de jora is a fermented corn beverage, heralding back to the ancient Incas. When you think of the stories of people chewing up corn and spitting it out to make chicha, this is what you’re thinking of. Naturally, everyone has their own recipes, but, at its core, chicha de jora is made with malted corn, some sugars, maybe a hint of barley, and water. It’s actually boiled before it’s allowed to ferment in clay amphorae or pots, if it can.

On the other hand is chicha morada (link is in Spanish). Unlike chicha de jora, chicha morada is not fermented. Instead, maiz morada, Peruvian purple corn, is boiled together with pineapple, cinnamon, and cloves (sometimes quine too!) and then cooled down before being sweetened. It’s almost similar in nature to Japanese mugicha/barley tea, in preparation, cultural importance, and popularity.

So, this beer ends up being a hybrid ode to Peruvian chicha, both version of it. It has the colors and flavors of chicha morada, due to using the maiz morada, pineapple, and spices, but it’s still fermented (somewhat) like chicha de jora. Chicha de jora morada is not a recognized or traditional style, but I felt like if I had to call it something, it’s sounds the most accurate.

Once the planning was done and the recipe was built, the challenge became tracking down the actual ingredients for it. Namely, I had no idea where to by maiz morada. Luckily, the internet is a wonderous (although, sometimes terrifying) place. I managed to find a 5 pound bag of sprouted (read: malted) Peruvian purple corn for a reasonable price.

Another ingredient that I wanted to use was cacao juice. Most people are unfamiliar with it as it’s a pretty unique ingredient. It’s made from the same cacao plant that chocolate comes from, but in where cacao nibs and cocoa come from the seeds of the pod, the juice is from the flesh around the seeds. It’s pretty much considered trash, but the farmers will eat it because it’s tasty. Somehow, a couple local to me found out that it’s delicious and that, by pressing the pods and extracting the juice, you can make a delicious, semi-healthy beverage and simultaneously reduce waste at the same time. Thus, Repurposed Pod started up and all they sell is straight up, unadulterated cacao juice.

It’s kinda hard to describe what exactly it tastes like. To me, it’s got a little bit of a pina colada flavor to it, almost like a combination of vanilla and passionfruit with a bit of coconut water mixed in. It’s got a slight viscosity and minerality to it, but it’s super flavorful. Almost like it’s made for mixing into cocktails, which is exactly how I found it.

My friend Steve is one of those people who, as a bartender, is always about finding the next crazy thing to make a new and innovative cocktail with. If I brew weird shit, he mixes weird shit. Naturally, we get along well as friends. Since they were local, Repurposed Pod ended up getting in contact with Steve about 2 years ago and he’s been using their products since. He’s actually a brand ambassador for them and has been working with a handful of breweries on using cacao juice in brewing beers too. I never made a formal post about it, but I did have the honor of brewing the initial test batches of cacao juice beer (a saison and a pale ale), which is pretty fun to see your name up in the sauce next to Tired Hands and a few others notable breweries.

After acquiring all my ingredients, it was time to set off on my Andean-inspired journey.

Them Digits

Batch Size: 6.5 gallons

Mash Temp: 152 F for 60 min.

Boil Time: 60 min.

Batch Efficiency: 62% (estimated)

Original Gravity: 1.034 // 8.5 P

Final Gravity: 1.006 // 1.5 P

Estimated ABV: 3.7%

IBUs: 35 IBU

Color: Pink

Recipe

Malts

5# Peruvian Purple Corn | 62.5%

2# Pilsner Malt| 25%

1# Red Wheat | 12.5%

Hops

1 oz. Experimental Genghis (11.1% AA) @ 40 min. | 35 IBU

2 oz. Experimental BRU-1 (15.7% AA) @ Steep (170F for 10 min.)| 0 IBU

1 oz. Experimental BRU-1 (15.7% AA) @ Dryhop (3 days contact) 0 IBU

Yeast

2x packet of Safale US-04 (Fermented at 70F)

Spices and Stuff

1 kg Pineapple Puree

1 gal. Cacao Juice @ Flameout

2 sticks cinnamon @ 15 min.

6 whole cloves @ 15 min.

Water Shit

4 mL 88% Lactic Acid (2 mL in mash, 1 mL to correct pH, 1 mL in sparge)

2 tsp CaCl

1/2 tsp Slaked Lime (in mash, pH correction)

|BREW LOG|

The first order of business with this batch was the fact that I had to do something about the corn. While it was sprouted, it was still also hard as balls. There was no way that I could put those massive, rock-solid kernels through my mill, let alone go anywhere near my teeth.

Following Garett’s method, I opted to pulse them in a blender for a few seconds at a time. Stopping short of making polenta/grits out of them I ended up with a coarsely ground corn, which was perfect for what I wanted. I milled out the other 3 pounds of grain, which was so much work, while heating up the hot liquor for the mash. I wanted to have my beer end up slightly on the drier side, so I shot for 150F as my temp. I came in just a hair over, but not anything too dramatic or enough to affect my outcome.

Funny thing about Peruvian purple corn is that it’s apparently pretty acidic inherently. I had only added a small amount of lactic acid to the hot liquor for the mash, but my initial pH reading showed that it came in the mid-to-upper 4 range. I wasn’t super worried, as I had some slaked lime on hand. I grabbed a 1/2 teaspoon and threw it in to raise the pH, which ended up swinging it up closer to 6-6.5 pH.

It also turns out that purple corn is pH reactive, as the mash went from a lovely hibiscus red in color to a bruised, Grimace the burger monster purple when I added the slaked lime. Not to worry, though, I got that beautiful red back when I added more lactic acid to bring my pH back down to the right levels for the mash, ending up at a respectable 5.3 pH, which I was content with leaving the mash to do the damn thing for the remaining majority of the mash.

I ended up testing the pH reactivity again with the sparge, adding the lactic acid to the water after dumping in the batch, which just reaffirmed the theory that it is, in fact pH reactive. After a 10 minute rest to reform the grain bed, I lautered and collected a total of ~7 gallons of wort in the kettle. Checking the pre-boil gravity at the start of the boil, it came in about 10.24 (10.22, adjusted), which was about where my best estimate for the batch could be, given that there isn’t much available in the way of information about brewing with maiz morado.

The boil was pretty simple with only a few light hop additions. Towards the end of the boil, I added the cinnamon and the cloves, waiting until about 10 minutes left to add in the gallon of cacao juice. At that point, the basement smelled amazing. I was getting hype.

As per my usual method, I added the pineapple puree to the fermentor and racked the wort on top of it after chilling it down to 68F. It had a beautiful magenta color, which is exactly what I wanted out of this. It was sweet, spicy, and slightly tart. However, after checking the starting gravity, it came in a little below what I had anticipated, but I did also get 6.5 gallons out of it. I was looking to brew a lower-alcohol beer, something light and summer-y, so I wasn’t too bent out of shape about the batch coming in slightly low and having a higher yield. With an SG of 1.034 (1.032, adjusted), this beer was gonna be another super-light banger, but with less of a waitlist than a Lotus.

I hit the batch with 60 seconds of pure oxygen through my airstone, pitched two packets of US-04, and then put baby in the corner to do the damn thing.

Schedules got a little weird for bottling, so the beer ended up getting 3 weeks to ferment, all but ensuring it got a complete fermentation. 3 days before bottling, it got hit with the 1 oz. dryhop charge and, the following day, it got a small dose of biofine, hoping that it might clear up some of the haze in the batch.

Bottling day finally arrived, and with the extra gallon plus yield, it definitely topped out the dishwasher for cleaning and sanitizing all the bottles. I made a simple syrup for priming consisting of 5.50 oz. of table sugar (roughly 3/4 cup), shooting for 2.7 vol/CO2, which I added into the bottling bucket and racked onto. A little stir with a sanitized paddle to ensure a good distribution and off to bottling. It was interesting to taste it post-ferm. The beer had changed dramatically from the brew day, ending up with almost a bit of a cider-like quality more than a beer-like one. It had a nice citrusy flavor, was light and crisp, and there wasn’t a whole lot of spice forward qualities, but I could taste a bit of the clove. I should have followed my own advice and just made a tincture with some cheap vodka and added it at bottling to really get those flavors I wanted.

As for the alcohol, the beer ended up coming in at 1.006 (adjusted), meaning the beer was a comfortable 3.7% alcohol. We on that ultra-light beam.

After a week in bottles, it was time to taste.

|TASTING NOTES|

Pouring it out of the bottle, it fills the glass with a nice hibiscus tea shade of pink, throwing up a slightly rocky white foam. While the head fades somewhat quickly, it does still manage to lace nicely down the glass. I assume corn just doesn’t really have the proteins to truly maintain a tight head on a beer.

The cider smell is gone. Instead, it’s clean, a little fruity, and lightly hoppy. I can faintly smell the clove, but for the most part, it almost smells more like a light lager/pilsner beer. No corn, no crazy fruit. Pretty simple.

The taste is kinda crazy, though. While I admit, it absolutely helps to know what I’m looking for, I can pull out most everything. Traditionally, pineapple is notorious for being hard to pull flavor out of, but I get a defined hint of it. There’s a light fruitiness from the English yeast, I get the kiss of the dryhopping, and then at the back of the palate is a light bitterness with a hint of clove. This almost tastes like a grissette/saison. There’s no “corny” flavor to be found, at all.

Despite the lack of head retention, the beer does have a pretty supple body to it. The slightly higher carbonation level makes it feel pretty airy, but it’s refreshing and appropriate for the flavors. In fact, if it was any heavier, it might be slightly off-putting.

I mean, it’d be nice if I could say that this was somehow exploring my heritage, but the truth it that I’m whiter than the beef between Eminem and Machine Gun Kelly. I also have only had one chicha beer that I can compare it to, but from that basis, I think I did a pretty bang-up job on it. It’s unfortunate that the dog days of summer are seemingly behind us, partially due to Hurricane Florence coming to fuck up North Crackalacky, but I’m pleased to say I made a fun, sessionable summer ale. This is gonna stay in the back pocket, for sure.

P.S. – The art I used for the label was painted by the Peruvian painter Moises Llerena, a student of the traditional ayahuasca spiritualist painter, Pablo Amaringo. Go check out his art, it’s pretty dope. I’m SoL on the name of this one. I barely managed to re-find the actual image, and he’s doesn’t have a website or a whole lot of info about his works.

I also may have listened to a lot of The Mars Volta while making this beer, which is also a nod with the font for the label.