Pleasant House

hydrometer reading of the cooled wort

Something is brewing, literally and figuratively. For now, it’s all about the literally. I’m officially on a brewing kick. Fermented soda, beer, wine, and kombucha. Basically, anything that gets in the way of my new home brew kit and my homemade ginger starter.

The seed was planted when I was youngster, watching my grandma boil a big pot of ginger and lemon and pour it into an old pickle crock to ferment in a closet. The effervescent ginger beer that would result from this simple fermentation would be one of my great food memories. I remember the excitement of cracking into a fresh, almost exploding, recycled 7UP bottle and getting a whiff of the pleasantly sour, toasty concoction and loving the aggressive bite of ginger as I would take a drink. I felt as sophisticated as a 12-year-old could when I drank it because it had a miniscule amount of alcohol.

I set out not only to recreate Grandma’s ginger beer but to capture the spirit and know-how that goes into crafting a homemade beverage. Grandma Jackson has a long story, as many grandmothers from the “old country” do. During World War II, she made her way from war-torn Lithuania to war-torn Germany, then England. Along the way she lived a resourceful and creative life as a gardener and a cook, a seamstress who sewed her own wedding dress out of an army blanket, and even a train operator in a time when men were too busy on the front lines.

Grandma in her wedding dress

I grew up hearing all about Grandma’s vodka, which she would make from potato peels, wine from dandelions or wild berries, and the ginger beer. I wanted to try to make these things, too, someday. Now is as good a time as any to start. While much of my generation has been graced with the good fortune, thus far, to not have had to beheld the things that my grandma has seen, we have the ability to learn from our grandparents’ generation, all that is good and all that is bad.

Recipes and traditions come from our relationship with nature, and from life-changing and history-making events. They also arise out of hardship, during times of need and desperation. Some of my grandma’s recipes may have come out of desperate times, but they also were borne from a constant connection to nature. Even as she is basking in the twilight of her years in American suburbia (albeit reluctantly), her home reflects the lush, flowery feel of an English garden. Far from The Pleasant House in a little Yorkshire town or the African village in a country that doesn’t even exist anymore or the south island of New Zealand, pieces of nature flourish in pots and glasses, cuttings “nicked” and smuggled by plane and boat from place to place. After all, nicked and gifted plants are the best-growing ones, she says.

Memories of dollar bags of turning mangoes transformed into spicy chutney, the first bite of bitter watercress sandwiches, and sipping milky tea among African violets and bouganvillias remind me that I, too, am part of this resourceful and humbly sophisticated legacy–and have the instinctual need to carry it on.

As many motions of my trade become second nature, I am driven to learn new areas of expertise and to explore all that inspires me. All of my grandparents are inspirational, but Grandma Jackson has inspired me as a chef and has sparked my interest in brewing. To me, brewing is about my first taste of ginger beer, it’s about the historied breweries like Tadcaster or about foraging with my own hands for dandelions to make wine, just like my grandma did when she was young. It’s about taking the antique apple press back into the garage, as we did one frigid fall many years ago, and transforming grocery bags full of apples into cider. It’s about being inspired to take something simple and to turn it into something with a story.

Samuel Smith's Winter Welcome

Thus far, my brewing skills are beginner at best; expert status is years away. As of now, I have the standard home-brew kit of whole grains and malt extract starting to ferment. I made the mistake of taking my first hydrometer reading after I pitched the yeast, not before. I’ve tapped into my quick batch of Grandma’s style of ginger beer, which is a little flat. I’m waiting for spring to come so I can gather some dandelions for making wine. I’ve got plenty of ideas and I’m learning the motions, the terminology, and the mistakes. I’m on my way. Thanks, Grandma…and happy birthday!

Grandma Jackson