I’m writing a book about beer, and the first of several deadlines is today.
Speaking as an expository writer (my efforts at fiction have always been abysmal), one must learn in order to teach. Consequently, research began in January, and the only sure thing is that more of it will land on the cutting room floor than be used in the final draft. Beer might be small on occasion, and yet it remains an expansive topic.
Today, as I prepare to clear the first hurdle, here’s a little known beer episode from New Albany brewing history, which I researched and published in the New Albany Tribune in 2009.
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In 1909, the German-language Louisville Anzeiger newspaper praised Augustus Tusch of neighboring New Albany.
“Herr Tusch is a lager brewer of great repute whose cleanliness and quality is of the highest order, with barrels filled and delivered fresh within the astounding radius of ten blocks from his business address.”
It seems that Tusch was about to release a revolutionary new product. Who was this long forgotten New Albanian, and what was his plan to reorder the brewing universe?
Tusch was born in 1861 in Einenwitz, a Bavarian village internationally famous for the pureness of its drinking water. His itinerant father trained him to be a magician, but the young man changed careers in 1884 after a card trick went awry and injured a prelate’s eye.
Fleeing town, he became a brewer’s apprentice in Lustigstadt, later eloping with his employer’s youngest daughter, Weitta, and relocating to Northern Germany.
The couple decided to immigrate to America. While working as a waiter in Hamburg to save money for the overseas journey, Tusch became acquainted with the city’s renowned Diät Pils, a low-strength, highly attenuated lager designed specifically for diabetics, consumptives and the chronically ill.
“Those poor, desperate drinkers are told that Diät Pils, which comes at a higher price, has less sugar and can be consumed in small amounts without detriment to their condition,” Tusch wrote, “but they still drink more of it because, they contend, it feels less full in their stomachs. Very interesting, this illusion.”
When the liner Teutonophilia left Hamburg for the United States, the Tusches had little to call their own. Their wooden chest contained earthenware beer mugs, a matrimonial pretzel mold, and — written in code — the secret technique for “triple hopping” that Tusch intended to use at his future brewery.
In 1902, Tusch’s dream finally came true,...Read more
