Philly: The Hotbed of Hops Growing

I’m a novice homebrewer (only about 3 batches per year, mostly sticking to the recipe). I am also a member of one of the most impressive spots in Philly, the Southwark/Queen Village Community Garden (Christian, between 3rd and 4th). I was getting a little tired of growing tomatoes and beets so two summers ago, I decided to try to grow some hops. Philly is not known for its nurturing soil or moderate weather conditions so my expectations were low. I just thought it would be fun to see if it worked.

It worked. Actually, it didn’t stop working. Here’s how it all went down. (You will be pleased to know that I refuse to resort to replacing the word “happy” with “hoppy” (ex. I was “hoppy” with the experience.) or saying things like, “I hopped right to it." You’re welcome.)

You will soon be able to tell that I am not an expert. Far from it. In fact, I have clearly indicated where I sort of messed up. Just a guy who likes beer (understatement of the century) that wanted to try something new. This isn’t a step-by-step guide, but just a summary of my experience and a way to show off my hop pictures. If I’ve met you at a bar, I show off my hops like some people show off their kids. All of the pictures except the rhyzome are actual pictures that I took along the way.

Rhyzomes: I started by going to a local homebrew shop, Home Sweet Homebrew (FYI: I’m also told that Greensgrow has rhyzomes for sale and Barry’s Homebrew has several how-to books). I bought several varieties of rhyzomes (rhyzomes are these funky root-looking things like the one pictured on the right). I bought Cascades, Columbus, and Willamette. You will not hear me mention the Columbus and Willamettes again. They didn’t take. I have no idea why. A lot of stuff says that Cascades are very resilient to weather and soil conditions that are not ideal. Other hop varietals are not as resilient I guess. Cascades work well anyways because the are so versatile for brewing. So anyway, I planted these ugly looking root things (roots up, about a foot apart) in late spring, watered the shit out of them, and waited.

Set-up: Hops grow. Fast. People say that you can literally watch the bines grow (yup, bines, not vines – I have no idea why). I don’t have time to watch my plants (see my very time-consuming website, PhillyTapFinder), but there may be some truth to it. You need to give them something tall to grow up … a trellis, cable, etc. Space in urban gardens is quite limited so I just installed three cables, each with a big-ass screw on the bottom end and attached to a wooden beam at the top. Looks like the picture on the right.

*Things I messed up that you should consider doing differently: As explained below, harvesting is a bit of a pain in the ass. You could probably make it a little less of a pain by having the top end detachable so that you could bring the bine to the ground for harvesting.

Hops grow. Fast. Here are a couple pictures. The first was taken a few weeks in and the second a few weeks after that. Big difference. Also, we are an organic garden so no pesticides or growth aids.

*Things that I messed up that you should consider doing differently: So not only do hops grow up, but they grow these arm things that latch onto everything in sight. In an urban community garden, everything is very close to each other. You either need to make sure that the hops are not planted close to anything that you care about or keep a close eye on the horizontal growth and cut the arms periodically. I mean, imagine the horror if my Cascades strangled some hippie’s heirloom tomatoes. The horror.

First-year yield. So they say that you’re not supposed to get anything the first year. I ended up with about 5 ounces total. I would show you a picture, but it’s pretty sad looking (satisfying, nevertheless).

Winter time. Even though you have these incredible looking bines, you chop them down for the winter. Seems counterproductive and looks depressing, but trust me – they grow back much stronger come the following spring.

Shit starts taking off the second year. This past summer was the second year of growth. They say that hops aren’t at their best until the third year. If that’s true, I’m in VERY good shape. I think this portion of the story is best told through pictures. Check out some of those cones.

Harvesting: I ended up harvesting about five times this past summer. It’s a pain in the ass. Because I did not make the top of the cables detachable, I get up on a ladder for a few hours and get to work. They are ready when they are papery – if you pinch them, they should stay depressed. After a while, you will be able to tell just by looking at them. You can pick or cut them off, but you are supposed to be reasonably gentle so that you don’t shake all of the yellowish powder from the cones (that’s the good stuff). Each harvest yielded piles that looked like this–













































*Things that I messed up that you should consider doing differently: Hop bines are abrasive (in other words, they cut the shit out of you). They also have something that makes the cuts sting. It sort of sucks. So even if it’s 100 degrees out, wear long sleeves, pants, and either keep your head out of the bine or where your bank robber mask.

What do I do with all of these? As I mentioned, I brew, but not that frequently and I’m only OK at it. I dried some out for my own personal use. I took a screen from one of my windows and put it up in my attic because it’s hot up there. Put the screen between two boxes or something so that air can circulate underneath them. Once they are dry, weigh them out, put them in a couple freezer-safe ziplocks, and put them in the freezer. You can then use them whenever you are ready to brew. By the way, dried hops are incredibly light so it takes a shit load of them to make an ounce. I recently brewed a vanilla milk stout that used a small amount of them.

Or…find someone who is much better at brewing than you are and see if they are interested in wet-hopping something. To be considered wet-hopped, you have to brew within 24 or 48 hours from the time the hops are harvested. In Philly, this is a rare opportunity so I was happy to share with my homebrewer friends, Sean Mellody from Mellody Brewing and CDags from CDags, Inc. I mean, that’s what friends are for after all. Mellody made a harvest ale called Queen’s Harvest. It was delicious.

*Things that I messed up that you should consider doing differently: Like all grown adults, I was very curious what hops would taste like so I popped one in my mouth. They taste awful. You probably shouldn’t do it.



The end. That’s about it. I’m really psyched to see the yield this upcoming year when the bines are supposed to be at their strongest. Thanks for reading this.

-Jared, President/Founder, PhillyTapFinder.com

Feel free to shoot me an email at jared@phillytapfinder.com if you want to check them out over the summer.

UPDATED 8/10/12

Given the health of the bines and cones the first two years, I expected the third year to be out of control. It is:

You just can’t harvest or brew fast enough. Although the size of the cones has not changed much since last year, I feel that they are more aromatic. Also, at least one of the cones did it’s own thing. This one must be a male (I actually think that it was 2 cones that grew together, but I’m not sure):

Hee hee.

Yesterday, my 3 month old and I brewed our first beer "together” - he was responsible for crying, drooling, and holding onto the hops.

He looks sort of confused, but happy I think. We brewed a wet-hopped black IPA called “Baby’s Drool." The name was inspired by Weyerbacher’s Idiot’s Drool, as well as the drool on my shirt when I was buying my supplies at Barry’s Homebrew. I wanted it on the roastier side (like Stone’s 15th Anniversary) so I didn’t overdo the hops. I can hear it fermenting in the closet now and am very excited to see how this one turns out.

Thanks for reading.