A chain-makers' shed, put to better use.
Ten years brewing close to home, in a shed that used to make something entirely different.
A fifty-litre kettle and a roller door left open to the street.
Neighbours kept wandering in to ask what the smell was. Eventually we put out a bench, then a second one, then a licence. The kit is two hundred times bigger now, but the door is still open.
Rae, Felix and Ivy run the tools between them. Nothing here is brewed somewhere else and trucked in — if it’s on the board, it came out of the tank forty feet away.
Four things we won't budge on
Not brewery poetry — the working rules behind everything on the board.
Fresh
Small batches, sold close to home, brewed again. Check the date on the can.
Local
Malt from the Darling Downs, and the spent grain goes to a farm ten minutes away.
Honest
The ABV is on the board and the allergens are on the sheet. If a batch missed, it never left the tank.
Open doors
The brewhouse is behind glass, the tours are weekly, and questions at the bar are part of the job.
Four corners of the shed
What the shed looks like on a brew day.
The brewhouse
Twelve hectolitres, behind glass, visible from the taproom side.
The canning line
Small runs, dated on the bottom, filled the same week they’re brewed.
The tanks
Checked twice a day, by hand, by whoever brewed that batch.
The barrel corner
Where the porter sleeps for a few weeks every winter.
Small on purpose
These figures have not moved in years and we intend to keep it that way.
The brewhouse is behind glass every day we’re open.
Come and look through it, or book the Saturday tour and stand inside it.