Sunday, The Slayer had the privilege of attending the second annual Wilmington Home Brewer's Competition at the Front Street Brewery. With the success and malt enhanced revelry of last year's event a team of Budweiser Clydesdales couldn't keep The Slayer away. Besides, he knew there would be FREE samples of the contestants concoctions on hand.

The Slayer loves being around home brewers. They are the bedrock of the malt beverage world. These beverage chefs brewing motives are as pure as freshly driven snow; not the yellow kind. Their goal is to make a beer that they can sit back and drink while saying to themselves, "Damn! this is good beer and I made it."

Of course, the process of brewing is as alluring as the end result. After the wort is prepared and the yeast begin to work their magic on sugary fluid, the home brewer feels a sense of power and accomplishment that only other brewers, Dr. Frankenstein and God can identify with. These malt magicians, like deities and fictional mad scientists, know the wonder of creating "life" from scratch. Homebrew contest are a celebration of the process and the end result.

The competition held at Front Street Brewery was no exception. The best and brightest wort wranglers entered their creations of love to be judged by a panel of brewing afficionados; among them Wilmington Brewing Company's Head Brewer, Kevin Sondey, Front Street's Fermentation Foreman, Don Lynch and two American Homebrew Association (AHA) Certified Judges.

As a blues, cover band strained away on the third floor of brewpub, a sizable crowd was gathering. Lured by the promise of free homebrew samples and corn chips and bean dip, the throng was filled with homebrewers and non-homebrewers alike.

It was quite easy to tell the two groups apart. The homebrewers, clumped together in bunches of three or four, could be overheard discussing things like sugar extraction efficiency, decoction versus single-step mashing and the alpha acid contents found in Kent Golding hops.

Meanwhile, those who wouldn't know a hydrometer from a siphon hose wandered about the venue aimlessly; only stopping to suck down another free sample of homebrew. While those who knew brewing used terms like "estery, diacetyls, and infected" to describe the flavors of the brews they were tasting. The brewing novices used such technical terms as "good, bad, and yuck" to paint an accurate portrait of a brew's flavor.

The Slayer, none to shy when free beer is to be had, belied right up to the bar and began sampling the homebrewers' work for himself. All were of varying degrees of palatability. Many of the homebrews were quite tasty and only fractions away from being right on for their style. The others, while technically beer, tasted of things like apple juice, Pez candy and stale Wheaties.

However, even when The Slayer had these less than exemplary examples of homebrew in his mouth, he did not turn up his nose and say, "I've licked envelopes with cockroach feces on them that tasted better than this beer." For even though these brews were at times offensive, The Slayer could feel the love that was put in each one. Whoever brewed them did so with great passion and heart. Though their final product could make an alcoholic run screaming to the nearest twelve-step program, with practice, The Slayer knows their beer will improve.

All the while The Slayer was assessing the homebrews, so too were the judges. Huddled in a corner of the room like conspirators secretly concocting a plan to overthrow the current regime, they swirled, sniffed and sipped sample after sample of malt beverages put before them. Only taking breaks between rounds and to prove that beer is neither made nor destroyed it is merely recycled.

Finally, after a few hours of diligent assessment, the judges had come up with the winners from each the style categories. As each style's victor was announced over the PA, The Slayer watched as many heads sank and a glint of hope sprung from the eyes of brewer whose name had been called. The list had been pared from the original twenty-eight to a select few who would pit their beers maltose-a-maltose in battle to the yeast cell death.

The judges quickly returned to their places at the at the table and took their last taste of the beers left in the competition. Anticipation and tension filled the room as all who had gathered awaited the final ruling.

After almost an hour, the malt magistrates broke from the coven like conference and brought forth their much anticipated declaration of the winner; best of the best, creme de la creme, master of homebrewing art. The announcer, taking his time to reach the mic in an unintended yet very effective dramatic manner, finally, spoke the words that the gathering had staid to hear. The winning brew was a Munich Heles by Arch Jones of the Yeast Coast Homebrew Club. A Dopple Bock took second and a Scottish Import received the third spot.

The Slayer did not catch the names of the brewers who garnered the place and show positions in this beer race; however, you know who you are and congratulations. It was fitting that Arch Jones should win this local competition. He is probably the best homebrewer The Slayer has ever had the privilege to see.

Last fall, The Slayer had a chance to witness him in action. At a Yeast Coast Hombrewers Meeting, The Slayer and several other abode artists met to brew a club beer. Arch, in the homebrewer tradition of sharing his expertise and love of malt beverage with others, brought his brewing hardware to be used for the making of the beer. His portable brewing operation made Willie Wonka's Chocolate Factory seem as though it were made from Lego blocks and an Erector set. Ninkasa would be proud.

As for this beer, one of many excellent brews to came from Arch Jone's stable was a superb example of Munich Helles. It had a light, frothy, white head that topped its straw colored, liquid body like virgin's bridal veil. It's aroma was malty sweet making The Slayer feel as though he had stepped into a field of Corn Flowers. The beer's flavor was malty and semi-sweet with a clean, yet not overly done, hop finish. The finest brewers in Bavaria could not have made this beer any better.

Unfortunately, Arch was not in attendance to receive the accolades of his victory when it was announced. As with all great artisans, The Slayer is certain he much preferred his work to speak for itself. However, he will be able to get his spoils when his brew is reproduced at the Front Street Brewery; his prize for winning. The Slayer feels sorry for Don Lynch and the other brewers there. For they are going to have to recreate a masterpiece; not an easy task.

The under appreciated art of homebrewing lives on, strong and vibrant. Great masters like Arch Jones will forever ensure its existence. The Slayer is glad to be a part of such a noble craft. Thank you, James Earl Carter, father of post-prohibition legalized homebrewing.