Cold Crash - Frozen!
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slcmorro
87 Warning Points. Bad Boy!
There'll be plenty of live yeast, no need to go adding more.
mofox1
Wubba lubba dub dub!
Yup - all good. Bottle now for +1 eisbock powers.
Mr. No-Tip
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I had this happen due to an accidentally dropped probe. Double batch of SIPA partially frozen - sorta slushie consistency. Half was to be kegged for my wedding, half PET bottles for golden plains.
Both batches were fine. I added half a pack of US05 to the bottled one, but I don't think it needed it. It carbed up really quick and was a bit too yeasty.
Both batches were fine. I added half a pack of US05 to the bottled one, but I don't think it needed it. It carbed up really quick and was a bit too yeasty.
antiphile
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It sounds as though you weren't expecting the fridge to get so low to cause freezing, but in general terms beer will freeze between minus one and minus two degrees celsius. The most accurate formula to predict the freezing point for a particular batch of beer that I can find is from the US FDA:
Freezing temp = (-0.42 × A) + (0.04 × E) + 0.2, where
A is the Alcohol by Weight percentage, which for beer is 0.8 times the ABV%; and
E is the OG measured in degrees Plato
Freezing temp = (-0.42 × A) + (0.04 × E) + 0.2, where
A is the Alcohol by Weight percentage, which for beer is 0.8 times the ABV%; and
E is the OG measured in degrees Plato
'Twas a few weeks before Christmas and all around the house, not an airlock was bubbling, in spite of myself. My Vienna was lagering in the refrigerator out there, with hopes that a truly fine beer, I soon could share.
The Airstat* was useless, 32F couldn't be set, so I turned the 'fridge to Low, to see what I would get. On Monday it was 40, On Tuesday lower yet, On Wednesday morning I tweaked it, seemed like a good bet.
Later that day when I walked out to the shed, my nose gave me pause, it filled me with dread. In through the door I hurried and dashed, when I tripped on the stoop and fell with a crash. Everything looked ordinary, well what do you know, but just in case, I opened the 'fridge slow.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear, My carboy was FROZEN, I had made Ice beer! My first thought was tragic, I was worried a bit, I sat there and pondered, then muttered, "Aw Sh##!"
More rapid than eagles, my curses they came, and I gestured and shouted and called the fridge bad names. "You *******! How could you! You are surely to blame! You're worthless, You're scrap metal, not worth the electric bills I'm paying! To the end of the driveway, with one little call, They will haul you away, haul away, haul away all!"
Unlike dry leaves that before the hurricane fly, when brewers meet adversity, they'll give it another try. So back to the house, wondering just what to do, five gallons of frozen beer, a frozen airlock too. And then in a twinkling, I felt like a goof, the carboy wasn't broken, the beer would probably pull through.
I returned to the shed, after hurrying 'round, gathering cleaning supplies, towels, whatever could be found. I'd changed my clothes, having come home from work, I knew if I stained them, my wife would go berserk. I was loaded with paper towels, I knew just what to do, I had iodophor-ed water and a heating pad too.
The carboy, how it twinkled! I knew to be wary, the bottom wasn't frozen but the ice on top was scary! That ******* refridge, it had laid me low, trying to kill my beer under a layer of snow. I cleaned off the top and washed off the sides, picked up a block of ice and threw it outside. I couldn't find the airlock, it was under the shelf, and I laughed when I saw it, in spite of myself.
The work of a half hour out there in the shed, soon gave me to know, I had nothing to dread. The heating pad was working, the ice fell back in, I re-sanitized the airlock, I knew where it had been. Not an Eisbock, but a Vienna I chose, it was the end of the crisis of the lager that froze.
I sprang to my feet, to my wife gave a whistle, and we went off to bed under the down comforter to wrestle. But the 'fridge heard me exclaim as I walked out of sight, "Try that again, you *******, and you'll be recycled all right!"
The Airstat* was useless, 32F couldn't be set, so I turned the 'fridge to Low, to see what I would get. On Monday it was 40, On Tuesday lower yet, On Wednesday morning I tweaked it, seemed like a good bet.
Later that day when I walked out to the shed, my nose gave me pause, it filled me with dread. In through the door I hurried and dashed, when I tripped on the stoop and fell with a crash. Everything looked ordinary, well what do you know, but just in case, I opened the 'fridge slow.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear, My carboy was FROZEN, I had made Ice beer! My first thought was tragic, I was worried a bit, I sat there and pondered, then muttered, "Aw Sh##!"
More rapid than eagles, my curses they came, and I gestured and shouted and called the fridge bad names. "You *******! How could you! You are surely to blame! You're worthless, You're scrap metal, not worth the electric bills I'm paying! To the end of the driveway, with one little call, They will haul you away, haul away, haul away all!"
Unlike dry leaves that before the hurricane fly, when brewers meet adversity, they'll give it another try. So back to the house, wondering just what to do, five gallons of frozen beer, a frozen airlock too. And then in a twinkling, I felt like a goof, the carboy wasn't broken, the beer would probably pull through.
I returned to the shed, after hurrying 'round, gathering cleaning supplies, towels, whatever could be found. I'd changed my clothes, having come home from work, I knew if I stained them, my wife would go berserk. I was loaded with paper towels, I knew just what to do, I had iodophor-ed water and a heating pad too.
The carboy, how it twinkled! I knew to be wary, the bottom wasn't frozen but the ice on top was scary! That ******* refridge, it had laid me low, trying to kill my beer under a layer of snow. I cleaned off the top and washed off the sides, picked up a block of ice and threw it outside. I couldn't find the airlock, it was under the shelf, and I laughed when I saw it, in spite of myself.
The work of a half hour out there in the shed, soon gave me to know, I had nothing to dread. The heating pad was working, the ice fell back in, I re-sanitized the airlock, I knew where it had been. Not an Eisbock, but a Vienna I chose, it was the end of the crisis of the lager that froze.
I sprang to my feet, to my wife gave a whistle, and we went off to bed under the down comforter to wrestle. But the 'fridge heard me exclaim as I walked out of sight, "Try that again, you *******, and you'll be recycled all right!"
