Kane Mettler checks the grain and water in the mash tune tub at the Lodi Beer Company on School Street in Lodi. (Casey Freeman/News-Sentinel)

Pub brewing up something special for Downtown Lodi

Roger Rehmke is a certified scientist of the most unscientific science in the world of science.

He makes beer.

One of the co-owners of School Street's Lodi Beer Company, Rehmke has spent the past few weeks making the fledgling brew pub's first ales and lagers. The restaurant has not announced an opening date, but the beers are brewing in part to work out the new equipment's kinks.

First came a bright, hoppy India Pale Ale, followed by a balanced German Marzen and a dark Weizenbock. Each one brewed from a mash of barley, hops, yeast and water in copper and steel cylinders at the remodeled antique shop's center.

Plenty can go wrong. Too many hops can throw off the beer's balance. Same for it's sugar content, which eventually converts to alcohol. The wrong yeast or storage temperature during the fermentation process can drastically change its flavor.

But for all its scientific jargon, the natural processes, experimentation and use of formulas, beer making is not to be confused with art of the lab coat crowd, Rehmke said.

"There's no science to it," he said. "They were making beer before they made scientists."

Rehmke is a self-described beer geek. Locked away in his head is the vast history of brewing: The lineage of each variety, who made it and how each particular type of beer came to be.

He and his business partner at Lodi Beer, Rich Dickson, are certified beer judges. At beer competitions, they are called in to taste beers, pick out the flaws and tell brewers what they can do to fix them.

In other words, they know what they're doing.

"Lodi's going to get an education in brewing (when the brew pub opens)," Dickson said.

It remains to be seen when that will happen. Rehmke won't commit to an opening date, though people constantly pop their heads in and ask as they walk by on School Street. During the Street Faire, he estimates more than 2,000 inquisitive people came through the door.

Another brew pub, Old Arch Brewing Company, is planned a few doors down in the Woolworth building at 105 S. School St. It is not clear when that business will open. It's owners could not be reached for comment.

In the meantime, the company will continue to brew while it prepares to open. The brews will eventually be bottled and sold, both over the counter and in other area restaurants, Rehmke said.

Rehmke and his assistant brewer, Kane Mettler, made the brewery's fourth-ever beer -- an American Wheat Ale -- recently. They began by cracking open malted barley, leaving tiny husks along with powdered grain. They then dumped the barley into a large copper tub, where it mixed with warm water.

The mash, as the mixture is called at this stage, filtered through the cracked husks while the proteins and starches turned into sugars. The remaining "sweet wort" liquid was then run off into an adjacent copper kettle.

Rehmke boiled the mixture and seasoned with hops to give the beer its bitterness, flavor and aroma. The high-pressure boiling -- during which up to 500 gallons of wort bubbles violently at more than 215 degrees for 90 minutes -- also sanitized the product.

"When we boil it, we boil it," Rehmke said. "It's a hard-rocking boil."

The beer was then drained into steel vats with cone-shaped bottoms, where yeast and oxygen was added to allow fermentation to begin. The vats cooled to an unspecified temperature -- trade secrets -- to keep the liquid stable while the yeast does its work.

After a few days, Rehmke will transfer the newly fermented beer to metal storage tanks, where they'll settle for weeks until ready to serve. During that time, workers will continue sanding, painting and hammering away at the cavernous old building's interior, transforming it into a beer lover's cathedral.

Stone tile floors. Red brick walls. Wooden pillars and steel archways. An antique ceiling, restored to look brand new. A long wood bar flanked by brick and antique mirrors.

And, in the heart of it all, a series of copper and iron vats and kettles, where the pub's lifeblood will soon pump into eager mugs and bottles.