OG 1.052, FG 1.011

Steps down the left, temperatures and times beside them, and near the bottom two figures set larger than everything else: OG 1.052 and FG 1.011. Underneath, handwritten: healthy starter — a bit fruity, keep it cool.

Those two numbers describe the beer more completely than any adjective on the can.

Why gravity readings?

Because subtracting one from the other gives you the beer.

Original gravity is how much sugar went in; final gravity is how much is left. The gap tells you the strength, and the finishing figure tells you whether it's dry and snappy or full and sweet. Two numbers, and a brewer can more or less taste it.

Hop cones, wheat sheaves and barrels say beer exists here. A brew sheet says what was made and how carefully.

Does the handwritten note matter?

It's the part that stops it being a spec sheet.

Every brew log has a margin comment, and the comments are consistently funnier and more anxious than the data. Kept it cool. Chiller struggling. Best one yet. Do not repeat.

That one line is the person in the document, and it's what makes a technical print feel warm — the same job the note in the margin does on a fishing log.

Should it be a real brew?

Their house beer, and preferably the one they're known for.

A taproom's flagship, printed as its own recipe, is merchandise no other brewery can sell. It also says something true to customers: here's what's in it, here's how we make it, we're not being mysterious about it.

Some breweries won't want the full recipe out, which is a legitimate commercial position — a sheet with the temperatures and gravities but not the hop schedule keeps the character without giving away the specifics.

Can it name a beer or a brewery?

Their own, freely. Other people's, no.

Beer names and brewery names are trademarks and this industry is unusually litigious about them — there's a long history of name disputes between breweries, and a shirt carrying somebody else's beer name is a straightforward problem.

Yeast strains and hop varieties are a softer question worth knowing about: strain designations and generic hop names are widely used, but several modern hop varieties are trademarked and some yeast labs hold rights in their strain names. Generic is safe; the well-known proprietary ones are worth checking.

Does it work for other drinks?

Every fermented or distilled thing has a sheet.

Cider has a pressing record. Wine has harvest data — brix, pH, titratable acidity — and a fermentation curve. Coffee has a roast profile, which is a temperature graph with a crack marked on it. Distilling has cut points, which is one of the more dramatic pieces of notation anywhere.

A roast curve in particular is a single elegant line and works at any size — a graph is a strong graphic before it's information.

Is this staff apparel or something to sell?

Both, and the taproom sale is the interesting one.

Staff wear it because it's correct and they had a hand in it. Customers buy it because it's the one piece of brewery merchandise that isn't a logo on a black shirt — it tells them something, and carrying a recipe on your chest is a slightly nerdy pleasure that this audience specifically has.

The brewery name belongs small, at the head of the sheet, set like a letterhead rather than a badge.

Does it print well?

Yes — a stepped table with two oversized numerals is a solid layout.

The gravity figures give the design its mass and read from across a taproom. The step rows are line work and want fewer entries, set larger, than a real sheet. The handwriting is the one soft element and should be genuinely loose.

Rust brown, oxblood, deep green and black all sit right against stainless and wood. Two inks, with the gravities carrying the accent.

How do I get one made?

Describe the sheet at JustOG — the steps, the gravities, and what the note in the margin says. Pick a direction, drag the crop frame, see it composited on the real garment, and it's made to order and shipped.

Designs other people have published are in the shop.

Fifty-two down to eleven. That's the beer.