I Regressed and Became Too Good at Brewing - Chapter 49

“…I think I’d like it to come across as really clean and crisp.”
Hwang-gu wasn’t visible, and his voice wasn’t audible, yet Jin-woo spoke those exact same words—remarkable.
But the surprises didn’t end there.

“And I’d like the hop character to really stand out. While keeping the malt’s sweetness restrained.”
The two of them were pursuing the same direction, point for point.
That was good news.
Despite the mistakes made, it was only natural that a goblin would love sake.
Now that we knew exactly what the problem was, and they both saw the same vision—well, that was a stroke of fortune.
In any case, as soon as I heard the profile of beer Jin-woo was after, a particular style came to mind.
“A West Coast IPA, then.”
“Oh? You know about it?”
“Of course.”
Beer—or rather, IPA itself—divides into different styles depending on its flavor profile.
First, there’s the New England IPA, also called a hazy IPA.
It carries the citrusy, tropical-fruit tang of something both tart and sweet, with bitterness that doesn’t come through too aggressively.
“This one’s the most famous, honestly. Since it’s approachable, most breweries end up producing either this style of IPA or conventional Pale Ales.”
Because New England IPA has relatively restrained bitterness, it doesn’t divide opinion as sharply.
But that wasn’t the direction Jin-woo and Hwang-gu were after.
“Though it doesn’t sound like you’re after an East Coast IPA either.”
East Coast IPA carries more herbal and grassy notes than New England IPA, with the bitterness dialed up a notch.
But in that case, the emphasis shifts to the malt instead.
It plays up the roasted notes to the extreme, boasting a deep caramel hue, and once you taste it, that rich sweetness becomes irresistible—an IPA focused on malt.
But what Jin-woo wanted was the intensity of hops, wasn’t it?
“Then it has to be West Coast IPA.”
West Coast IPA originated in the densely clustered regions of California, Oregon, and other areas along the American West Coast.
The hallmark of this style, which became the global standard for IPA, is simple: a sharp, aggressive assault of hop bitterness and aroma.
“To preserve that dry finish and intense hop bite, they even severely restrict the malt’s sweetness.”
With this approach, the lingering sweetness on the palate is stripped away entirely.
In other words, it’s about wiping the blank canvas clean, making the hop flavors that come through all the more vivid.
“This way, you get not just citrus notes—grapefruit, orange—but the hop’s characteristic resin and pine dominating the profile.”
“You really do know your stuff. Were you particularly interested in beer? How did you come by all this knowledge?”
“I’m interested in all spirits.”
Songhadan’s focus is traditional liquor, but my own curiosity has always been with the craft of alcohol itself.
There was a time when I was deeply absorbed in beer, exploring breweries across the country.
I picked up all sorts of interesting things back then.
“But is there a particular reason you want to emphasize the hop character?”
“Ha… this is embarrassing to admit, but hops are actually the reason I fell in love with beer in the first place.”
That I could understand.
Everyone has their own moment of discovery with alcohol—the thing that hooks them.
By his account, it happened when he first tried a craft beer in college; that crisp, bitter bite was a revelation.
“That’s why our brewery is called The Hop, after all. Ha.”
So emphasizing hops was almost inevitable.
But if that were the case, a problem emerged.
“West Coast IPA is already oversaturated,”
Trends cycle, as they say.
It started with New England IPA gaining momentum and popularity.
Likely because newcomers didn’t find the flavor intimidating.
But as people’s taste for beer deepened, they craved bolder, more intense flavors, and eventually…
“West Coast IPA emerged around three years ago, didn’t it?”
“I’d say that’s about when it started. Yes.”
“And it’s been trending ever since.”
That was the problem.
Three years might feel long to an individual, but in terms of trends and commerce, it’s remarkably brief.
It’s commonplace for a hyped dish to be replaced by something else within a month.
What does it mean, then, to sustain a trend for three years in such an environment?
“There are far too many.”
“Mmm…”
“Countless, really.”
Just look at the beers flying off the shelves.
Walk into any convenience store and most IPAs you grab are West Coast style.
If they’re not, they’re Pale Ales.
“So I respect your conviction about preserving hop character—truly—but to make it work, you need a more specific direction.”
“I see… I understand.”
You! Don’t you say anything to our Jin-woo! Human! Wha—are you using your hands again…? Ow!
Even as I swatted at the gnat a second time, Jin-woo’s contemplation pressed on.
It was quite a difficult question.
Emphasizing hop character.
Elegant phrasing, but it essentially meant relying solely on the hop’s own aroma and flavor.
“Sigh… adjusting the hop ratios has pretty much reached its limit…”
“Because that’s been the entire effort of the IPA market for the last three years.”
There are countless varieties of hops in the world.
Of course, there are constraints—some are patented, others are difficult to source.
Generally, hops are classified into three categories: Bitter Hops, which provide bitterness; Aroma Hops, which add fragrance; and Dual Purpose Hops, which accomplish both. These three types are combined in varying ratios to create hundreds, even thousands of distinct beer flavors.
It’s about working skillfully with the proportions of these three hop varieties.
“But it’s important that they’ve exhausted what can be done.”
Of course, if you search, you might find other hops.
But cost becomes a significant obstacle.
We’re talking amounts that a small-scale brewery like Jin-woo’s simply can’t absorb.
“You’re right… perhaps I was thinking too narrowly…”
Jin-woo wasn’t unintelligent; he seemed to grasp what I was driving at.
“Then perhaps we should abandon the West Coast IPA direction altogether…”
“What? Why abandon it?”
“Wasn’t that what you were suggesting?”
He hadn’t quite grasped it after all.
How could I possibly be telling him to abandon his direction?
“I said you need more specific direction. Remember?”
“Ah…”
“Wouldn’t it be enough to create a blend that’s never been made before?”
I’d been going on about hops, true enough, but they’re far from the only element that shapes a beer’s flavor and aroma.
Hops do carry significant weight, certainly, but there’s also the malt, the yeast, the water, the saccharification temperature, the timing of ingredient additions, secondary ingredients, and aging.
“All of those work together in concert.”
“So…….”
“Just give me a clear sense of direction. I can handle the rest.”
“If that’s the case…….”
Jin-woo, listening to my words, steeled himself once more, his lip caught between his teeth before he spoke.
“I’d like it to be bold and full-bodied.”
“Ah. Then…….”
“And the finish should be smooth.”
…….
Truly, a difficult direction to aim for.
* * *
“This is complicated…….”
After hearing the direction Jin-woo and Eun-chae wanted to take their beer, I stepped out of The Hop and ducked into a nearby café.
I needed space to think, to flesh out the initial concepts.
“It really is a tricky direction…….”
The couple’s request came down to three things.
First: bold and full-bodied.
That part was straightforward.
Increase the hop volume, or employ dry hopping—either would work.
The problem lay in what came next.
“But a smooth finish…….”
Usually, a West Coast IPA—dry, lacking the residual sweetness Jin-woo mentioned—undergoes saccharification at a low 65 degrees Celsius.
The malt powder steeps in warm water, converting starch into sugar, leaving behind only the simple sugars the yeast can consume.
If you run saccharification at 70 degrees instead, the enzymes fail to break down all the sugars completely, leaving behind complex sugars the yeast can’t eat.
The result: lower alcohol content but a residual sweetness and soft body that linger on the palate.
“But they want to feel both things at once…….”
Yet the third direction was equally daunting.
“The hops…….”
It wasn’t about refining an existing blend—it meant creating something entirely new.
This was honestly the hardest part.
‘New hops don’t just materialize out of nowhere…….’
I was taking long pulls of an iced Americano, turning over flavor and aroma combinations in my mind, when it happened.
Buzz—buzz—buzz~
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
I assumed it was Se-jun, the acting manager, calling to grumble about how overwhelmed he was…….
“Huh? It’s not Se-jun. Who……?”
The caller ID showed none other than Grandfather Gyeong-sik.
He never called. Why would he be reaching out now?
Curious as I was, he was an artisan who crafted the onggi essential to making hongya—I shouldn’t let my mind wander.
There was no point speculating.
I’d answer the call soon enough.
“Hello, sir. What can I help you with……?”
– Hey, do you need more onggi?
“Sorry?”
– Look, I’ll make you more. Just tell me how much. I won’t take any money for it.
Grandfather Gyeong-sik calling out of the blue to offer more onggi, refusing payment.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
– Don’t just sit there. Spit it out. Do you need more onggi or not?
“Well, more is always better. But sir—what’s this about? Why the sudden call?”
– If you need it, that’s all that matters. Look, I did you a favor before, so take a call from an unknown number in a bit, all right?
“Wait—sir? Hello?”
The line went dead despite my urgent voice.
Bewildered, I was still processing what had just happened when, true to Grandfather Gyeong-sik’s word, an unfamiliar number came through.
“Hello?”
– Um… is this… Director Song Yeon-woo of Songhadan?
“Yes, that’s me, but who is this……?”
The voice on the other end was young, feminine, tentative.
Startled by the question, she quickly launched into an introduction.
“Oh! Hello there! I’m Choi Seo-ah, and I run Hoptoran in Hongcheon! I heard you make alcohol, and I was wondering if we might have a quick word?”
His mind raced.
Hongcheon. A phone call about alcohol-making.
The company name: Hoptoran.
Hopto.
Hop.
Wait.
“Don’t tell me you grow hops?”
“Not me—my grandmother does.”
He’d found it.
A new terroir of hops.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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