1889 August | September 2018
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Dwinell<br />
Country Ales<br />
Open for less than a year, Dwinell<br />
Country Ales in Goldendale<br />
is pouring a lineup of<br />
quenching, slightly tart<br />
and funky brews, perfect<br />
for drinking under<br />
Goldendale’s famously clear<br />
desert skies. Cofounder and<br />
brewer Justin Leigh said<br />
Goldendale, an agricultural community<br />
of fewer than 3,500 residents, makes<br />
more sense for a country brewery than<br />
“under the train tracks,” in say, Chicago.<br />
Much of what’s now on tap has been<br />
fermented using the “wild” inoculants<br />
now offered in the catalogs of most<br />
major yeast labs, with a steady trickle<br />
of brews incorporating local fruits and<br />
their yeasts. Leigh takes an experimental<br />
approach to wild fermentation, finding<br />
ways to merge laboratory sophistication<br />
with hand-harvested yeasts from<br />
the countryside. For example, he<br />
and cofounder-wife Jocelyn Dwinell<br />
Leigh picked Yakima Valley apples,<br />
spontaneously fermented them into<br />
cider, and had the yeast analyzed and<br />
propagated by Gresham, Oregon’s<br />
Imperial Yeast. He’s incorporating<br />
these local wild yeasts and bacteria<br />
into shorter fermentations, adding<br />
complexity and soul to clean-drinking<br />
and accessible ales.<br />
In the brewery behind the airy,<br />
sunny taproom, an old dairy tank—his<br />
makeshift coolship—sits in the middle<br />
of the room as a wall of oak barrels sits<br />
aging various spontaneous and handharvested<br />
wild ales. These are the longterm<br />
projects, which will eventually be<br />
blended with one another or with local<br />
fruits and re-fermented. The beers on tap<br />
already taste like the place where they’re<br />
made and served, and with time spent<br />
living here, taking on the microscopic<br />
wilderness all around, they’ll become<br />
part of the landscape.<br />
<strong>1889</strong> WASHINGTON’S MAGAZINE 63