Ginger Beer

Bartenders of the USA, I know why you did it. I can't blame you. The 90's and early 2000's were good to us in a way that we never thought imaginable. The days of the 12 dollar tab and "keep the change" are over due to the new age of the credit card. I know that we collectively became bitter and tired and no longer wanted to deal with the bullshit. Could anyone really taste the difference between the home made stuff and the stuff you could buy on the cheap?

Well, the answer is yes.

I've started to get a bit of critical attention from the food and drink reviewers of DC. This is all well and good, and I recently had a young lady from Brightest Young Things come by my bar and have some of my ginger beer.  I have posted the link here.

The young lady came in and tried my Dark and Stormy. She asked me where I learned everything, and I told her the truth: someone else did it before Prohibition.

Now I have people asking for my Ginger Beer recipe all the time, asking how I do it, and what's involved. It brings me back to the time I spent in Central America, where I met a woman named Miss Helena, who ran her own little restaurant.

I had asked her for a soup recipe, and she happily told me the ingredients and method. I asked her if she ever worried about giving out her recipes, and she told me something I take with me to this day:

"Taste is in your hands, not in your ingredients. I can tell you how to make it, and you never will be able to. It's in your hands."

As I sat there looking into her calloused, wrinkled hands, I thought about what that meant. There was something spectacular about that.

So, in honor of Ms. Helena, I present you with my Ginger Beer recipe.

1. Get fresh ginger, and slice to about 1/4 inch width. Get as much or as little as you want. DO NOT peel the ginger. I know it will turn out brown, but the flavor is in the peel.
2. Add equal parts water to cut ginger in a pot. Make sure the water is cold.
3. Bring quickly to a boil, and add 1/2 sugar to 1 part ginger. Depending on the freshness of the ginger, this will make it sweet or spicy. Add more water if the ginger is too hot.
4. Let cool and filter. I like to run it all through a cheesecloth but don't feel obliged. You can simply put it through a siv.
5. Add in about 1/4 cup lemon juice. Taste and decide for yourself. Bear in mind that carbonation changes the flavor and sharpens sugar and reduces lemon - at least in my taste bud's opinion. Make it your own.
6. Carbonate. I use ISI tanks with chargers, but I hear good things about the Soda Stream systems.

Always remember, make it your own. Don't be afraid to spice or get creative.

After all, the taste is in your hands.

Stay Thirsty,
Eric

Dear White People:

My life changed, much like yours, on 9/11/2001. All of a sudden, "Middle Eastern" became a bad word. Previously misunderstood Muslims were now the enemy, and Arabs were generally vilified. Most Americans couldn't find the Gaza Strip on a map, let alone comprehend the complexities of the politics and [insert another fancy word for bullshit] that are happening over there. My own politics aside, there is something interesting about my life today that goes back to the event that took place on that fateful morning when I sat in first period biology. I have something to say to every white American reader:

White people, stop being scared of middle eastern food.

Seriously, this is getting a bit ridiculous. Enjoying beef shawarma will not bring a jihad on your head. I laugh every time a middle eastern restaurant calls it's food "Mediterranean" because "middle eastern" can scare off potential guests to your restaurant.

I manage a restaurant that serves middle eastern food. I've eaten food from almost every corner of the planet. Anyone who knows me knows that I used to be in very good shape, but have long since decided that a life spent on a diet is not for me. Give me Reeash, (or lamb chops). Pile on the hummus with fresh baked bread. Bathe me in garlic paste or cucumber sauce.

Many of you have had a shish kabob, right?

WRONG.

You have no idea what a shish kabob is until you go to a real middle eastern restaurant and try one.

Basmati rice, just for Indian food, right?

WRONG AGAIN, DUMMY.

Basmati is prepared fresh daily to accompany our Bazella, which is like a lamb stew, and want to have in a horse feeding bag around my face at all times.

Anyone out there like their steak rare? Come and try Kibbiniya, which is a lamb and beef tar-tar that is not only delicious when eaten with fresh baked bread, mint, and radish, but makes me feel like an T-rex because I'm eating raw meat.

At my restaurant, DarNa, we balance this food that comes from a culture that does not universally accept alcohol with a bar program that I am confident is one of the best in the DMV. Ever have a cocktail with Arak in it? I make one. Come at me.

White people, it's time. I know that you're scared, but you can't be anymore. Too much has happened to continue to be afraid of our Middle Eastern friends. Many of these restaurants have been around since before you were born. They are American families. They just want to feed you.

By all means, be angry at the perpetuators of terror. Hate the extremists who defile the name of middle easterners everywhere. Blame Osama Bin Laden. Blame the Taliban.

Just don't blame the lamb.