02.15.21
The weather was brisk in the Dyrvedalen valley, in Norway’s Voss region, but it was warm inside Bjørne Røthe’s wooden shed. At its heart was a steaming, bubbling kettle of magic potion, directly heated by a log fire.
The kettle was almost full, but lautering continued — slowly — off to the side. We knew there were juniper branches in the bottom of that mash tun, and we saw more piled in a trailer out front. The smell of them was in the air, mingling with sweet wort. Every now and then, Røthe would take some of those additional runnings and add it to the kettle — why waste a drop? — which boiled and reduced for more than six hours to make his potent version of Vossaøl, or Voss ale, which would finish at 10 or 11 percent ABV.