Homemade ginger ale--part 3 (by Kat)

Alternative title: It was the best of weekends, it was the worst of weekends.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this post, to be honest. I'm still digesting a lot of what happened this weekend. I'm still in a weird place, knowing I want to talk about it and yet not ready to meet the critics of the discussion. What I'm going to say today is my post--and not a reflection of Bet. Gripes come to me--not her. And yet, I'm not sure I want to hear them either. But, I do know I need to talk about what happened, and this is the place for me to do that. So there.

Anyway, some really great things happened this weekend. I'll start there...

I learned to make ginger ale. We're calling it ginger juice. For the second batch, I made a whole 2 liter bottle full. I used the half a lemon I had left, plus an equal amount of lemon juice from a jar. I reduced the amount of sugar, using just 3/4 cup for the 2 liters instead of the 1 cup my original spin on the recipe called for. Instead of cold water, I used slightly warm. I started it last night, then left it overnight in the bathtub. By noon the bottle was hard and ready to go in the refrigerator. I liked this timing better, as I didn't need to put the bottle in the fridge overnight, with its resulting slow-down of the fermentation process. This batch didn't taste as good as the first batch, but we've all been glugging it down anyway. I think fresh lemon juice is the key, and going full bore on the sugar. I'll keep you updated as our tests continue.


Mr. Boom has been contemplating a yard project for a while now, and decided this was the weekend to implement the plan. We have an outdoor fireplace that sits on our wood deck most of the year. We haul it off the deck and out onto the brick pathway of our backyard a few times a year in order to use it. But, presto-bingo! Not any more. I built the first rock wall, which was deemed "a menagerie of cockadoodoo" by Mr. Boom. Seriously, that was the word he used. I'd have been insulted, but I was laughing too hard.


He "disassembled" (name the movie!) my wall and rebuilt the structure. I have to hand it to him, it does look a lot better. I put the row of spiky rocks along the top in a tribute to the Teton Mountain Range, where we've had many a wonderful outdoor firepit experience. Mr. Boom conceded teh addition, and we lived merrily ever after. Well, the bricks still need to be laid underneath, but we can ignore that chore for a very loooooooong time, I'm sure.


Final really cool thing? "So Easy to Preserve" came in the mail. I've been devouring this book. I'm really looking forward to canning this summer.

Okay, on to the crap.

Um, if you don't like bad words, you might want to stop here. I'm quite likely to pull out a full slate of them, and working where I do, I know 'em all.

(After thinking it over, I've mad the bad words transparent. Read 'em if you want, or not, or whatever)

Right.

On Saturday evening, up in the hills, Mr. Boom and I found ourselves in the middle of a storm of bullets. Neither one of us was hit, but a branch a few feet over my head was snapped by a bullet.

Zweeeee---------bam. Zweeee---------bam. Over and over. We were hearing the bullets fly by before the sound of the gun firing them reached us. I hope to God I never ever hear that fucking sound again. We were hiding behind trees, but this isn't an old growth area, and the capability of a twenty year old pine to fully block a well-proportioned adult body is laughable. Except it isn't when the fucking bullets are flying by.

The odd thing is, they sound a little bit like hummingbirds.

Mr. Boom fired his shotgun in the air to let the ass-hats know that they were firing into an area with people in it. The shots only came faster at that point. I tried so hard to be skinny. And we had to move down the hill. Which meant not being behind trees. Then we had to cross a holy fucking shit swamp meadow to get to the car. While the shooting continued.

And then a couple young kids came up the road on dirt bikes. The shooting had stopped by then, and the kids turned around and went back down the road. We drove up the road to find out where the shooting was coming from. We couldn't find anybody. We figured that since the shots were so clustered, they must be shooting at a target and the bullets were going through. We thought they just didn't have a good enough backstop. But we couldn't find them. Maybe that's a good thing?

Anyway, we came back into town (three hours of driving for nothing!) and thought we'd call the sheriff in the morning. What could/would they do at 10:00 at night, anyway. Mr. Boom did some math, and figured that based on the number of rounds they were firing without reloading, the fact that the bullets going by were sub-sonic, the time between the bullet sound and the gun blast sound (think counting for the thunder after seeing lightening), and geography, the fucking assholes were more than 500 yards away, shooting an AK-47. There was no backstop involved. I thought about that distance for awhile, remembering the branch cracking above my head, and wondered what kind of force was behind those bullets. More math, and then the answer. The same as a 9mm at point blank.

Sunday I was shaky, but okay. Today I spent a good deal of the day in or near tears.

I'm feeling better now, but fully anticipate a third night of terrible dreams.

But you know what?

I fully support our right to keep and bear arms. All kinds.

I just really fucking hate 90% of the people behind those guns.

I just about died on Saturday, and I'm not ready, and the asshole who did it was more than 1/3rd of a mile away. Fuck'em!

You're still here? Wow.

You deserve something nice.

Here's the mommy bird in our birdhouse checking that the coast is clear.

Coast is clear--she's on her way to get more grub!

Daddy taking over, just like all good daddy's do.
Rock on, Daddy.

Homemade ginger ale--part 2 (by Kat)

Well, here it is. My first attempt at homemade ginger ale!

Here's the scorecard:

Taste: Very good. Sweeter than I'd confess (in public) to liking; lemon is strong but not at all bitter; ginger is perfect--not so strong that it burns, but definitely announces it's presence. I was concerned that the yeast flavor would come through, but it's only just barely there.

Carbonation: Okay. The shot above is after two days on the counter in a cool kitchen and two nights in the fridge. I'd like more carbonation, so I'll play with leaving it out a little longer. I don't think I'd add more yeast, as I really don't want a yeasty flavor. I'm still eyeballing Mr.Boom's home-brew yeasts....

Color: Pretty! I filtered this through a coarse sieve to take out the big chunks of ginger. There's still a bit of cloudiness from the lemon, but it's not an icky cloudy. You could run it through a coffee filter to clear it up further, if clarity is important to you. I'm okay with some turbidity.

Easiness: Super easy! I looked at many recipes, but the following three are representative of the entire batch. I might try Aran's and Alton's slightly fussier preparations if I ever make this for fancy company. I didn't use filtered water as suggested by Frankhauser and Alton, just regular ol' city tap water.

I'm satisfied enough with what I made to do it the same next time. I'm also a bit curious, so I'll likely be playing with recipe a bit more.

Just think of the other fruits you could add....

Instead of ginger, what about cloves?

Instead of lemon, what about green grape?

Hmmmm....

1:30 PM updated to add that we've drunk this all up, and are making more. Lots more. New addiction!

Aran Goyoaga from Canelle et Vanille, posted at Design*Sponge

Homemade Ginger Ale:
2 Tbs grated fresh ginger
1 cup sugar
½ cup water
Juice of 1 lemon
1/8 tsp active dry yeast
7 cups wate
In a small pot, add the grated ginger, sugar and ½ cup water. Bring to a boil and let sugar dissolve. Remove pan from heat and let the syrup steep and cool for about 30 minutes.
Strain the syrup through a fine sieve. Mix with the lemon juice, yeast and 2 qts of water. Whisk together and using a funnel, pour into a plastic bottle. Screw the cap on the bottle. Make sure it is a plastic bottle and not glass as the gases from the fermentation can crack the glass jar.
Let it ferment at room temperature for about 2 days until carbonation forms. Make sure to refrigerate after it starts to carbonate.

David B. Fankhauser, Ph.D.

cane (table) sugar [sucrose] (1 cup)
Freshly grated ginger root (1 1/2-2 tablespoons)
Juice of one lemon
fresh granular baker's yeast (1/4 teaspoon)
cold fresh pure water

Combine first four ingredients in a 2 liter bottle, top off with the water, and let rest at room temperature 24-48 hours.


Alton Brown

1 1/2 ounces finely grated fresh ginger
6 ounces sugar
7 1/2 cups filtered water
1/8 teaspoon active dry yeast
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

Place the ginger, sugar, and 1/2 cup of the water into a 2-quart saucepan and set over medium-high heat. Stir until the sugar has dissolved. Remove from the heat, cover and allow to steep for 1 hour.

Pour the syrup through a fine mesh strainer set over a bowl, pressing down to get all of the juice out of the mixture. Chill quickly by placing over and ice bath and stirring or set in the refrigerator, uncovered, until at least room temperature, 68 to 72 degrees F.

Using a funnel, pour the syrup into a clean 2-liter plastic bottle and add the yeast, lemon juice and remaining 7 cups of water. Place the cap on the bottle, gently shake to combine and leave the bottle at room temperature for 48 hours. Open and check for desired amount of carbonation. It is important that once you achieve your desired amount of carbonation that you refrigerate the ginger ale. Store in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks, opening the bottle at least once a day to let out excess carbonation.

Homemade ginger ale--part 1 (by Kat)

Bet and I have a very long history.

One time, I said very, very, very long and she said that was overstating it a little bit. I, for one, have accepted my grey hair naturally. Bet, perpetually surrounded by teenagers, is in a bit more denial, I guess. All I can say is that our 20th high school reunion is this summer...and we've been friends since sixth grade. Isn't that very, very, very long? At least very, very, if you ask me.

I'm not sure if it was during that first summer of our friendship or if it was the second. I suppose it could have even been our third, but since we get to write our own history, we'll just go back to that hot summer day shortly after school was out for the year. I lived about a mile out of town to the east, and she lived about a mile to the north of town. We had our bikes, though, so we had our freedom.

On this hot day, we were plopped on the floor of my family's den. My folks were at work, I suppose, and I couldn't tell you where my brother was. Maybe next door at my grandparent's house? Who knows....

Anyway, we got the brilliant idea to walk into town to get root beer floats at the Dairy Queen. We jumped the back fence and headed down the train tracks on foot. At some point, my dog (Samantha) decided to follow. I don't know why we didn't think this would happen, but I'm not sure we were thinking anything at all. It was summer vacation, after all.

Anyway, we followed the tracks to the edge of town, at which point we had to cross a very main street. I laugh at that description of it now, as there are now two lanes in each direction, PLUS a turning lane. Now that's a main road! At least it is in my little town. Have I ever mentioned that I never left? Bet did, but not me. Somehow I got stuck here, but I wouldn't have it any other way now.

Anyway, we had to cross the main road with my dog who wasn't on a leash and didn't even really know her own name. That dog was the dumbest dog, and we never did bond. I wish I'd tried harder, but there you go. So, we finally got the two of us and the dumb dog across the road, and were confronted with what to do with Samantha while we went in to get our drinks. I don't know why we didn't use the drive-through, but it was summer break and we weren't really thinking. I mentioned that already, right?

For the life of me I can't remember how this part happened, but we found a rope and were able to tie her up to the railing. We bought our floats, and ate them outside under the hot hot sun. Never had a root beer float tasted so good to me before that day. Somehow, we finally made it back home and flopped in front of the TV again.

Luckily, we arrived just in time to watch Bet's favorite show. We HAD to watch that show. I would have watched anything to keep her happy. I had a friend.

The next summer, we hit the DQ again. Root beer floats, again.

Pretty soon we were driving to the DQ, drinking root beer floats.

We still do it, but sometimes we don't get them until July or August. But, if it's summer, Bet and I have to go get our root beer floats.

Are you still reading this? Wondering what the heck this has to do with ginger ale? Yesterday Bet left the following comment on my Daring Bakers Challenge post:

"Num. Why did I move so far away? Ever think about homemade rootbeer? What do you think that takes? That is not a challenge.

Not a challenge my patooty!!!!!

So, to make root beer at home, you have to have root beer extract. Boring! And, I don't feel like going to the store.

But ginger ale?!

I had all the ingredients here in the house, so I started a little batch.

I hope it doesn't explode. Mr. Boom's homebrew wine has exploded, his homebrew beer has exploded, and I'd really rather not repeat those experiences!

Ginger ale:

1/2 cup sugar
1-2 tablespoons lemon juice (I used one half of a large-ish lemon)
small knob of ginger
1/8 teaspoon regular old bread yeast (I eyed Mr. Boom's champagne yeast, I admit...)
water (I used town tap, but imagine that spring water would be better)

I like to keep a bit of ginger in the freezer.
It keeps very well, and once frozen, ginger is very easy to mince.

Use a funnel to get all the ingredients into a one-liter bottle.
This is Mr. Boom's water bottle. He forgot to take it to work today.
MWAAA-HAA HAAA!

Lemon bits and yeast critters are floating about in suspension.
Yum!

Let the bottle sit out overnight or until the pressure on the bottle
is so great that you can't press the side in.

Wait.