Even as a new brewer, you've already undoubtedly had experiences when you wondered if you totally screwed up your beer. (Does the panicked exclamation, "It's been 24 hours since I pitched my yeast and the airlock on my fermenter still isn't bubbing!?" sound familiar?) And what's the advice you always hear in response? "Relax, don't worry, and have a homebrew." Right? Or, "Beer is very forgiving," or something along those lines. Whether it's homebrew guru Charlie Papazian in the book that lit the fire in me, The Complete Joy of Homebrewing
The thing is, that advice hadn't really paid off for me in my first two years of homebrewing. (Quick aside: June 7, 2010 marked my two-year homebrewing anniversary. Seems longer.) Sure, I'd seen firsthand how forgiving beer can be amid fluctuating fermentation temps and questionable chilling techniques, but I'd never had a beer essentially cure itself of off-flavors over time. I'd heard about it happening, but as far as I was concerned it was just a brewing myth.
Well, I'm a believer. My most recent batch of beer--an all-grain Rogue Dead Guy ale clone from the book Beer Captured
But the ubiquitous patience advice--mixed with the fact that I didn't really have time to deal with the beer right then--convinced me to let it sit in its secondary fermentation vessel (a 5-gallon Better Bottle carboy) for a while. Roughly six weeks, in fact. Which brings us to last weekend... the moment of truth for this batch. Well, as you can guess by now, I sampled the beer and that solventy taste had subsided to reveal a fine tasting beer. I'm currently keg carbonating what is quite likely my best batch yet.
So let me add my voice to the many that have said so before me: If you're ever on the fence about an in-progress homebrew batch, give it some time. Chances are you'll be glad you did. I've seen it happen.