Who We AreWe are the Borg.
Alright, not really. There are two of us here, my brother and I. Since we were young, we've been kind of inseparable. (We're not counting high school, because let's face it, literally everyone is an insufferable brat during those years and spends most of their time hating everyone, including each other.) John (my brother, you know), being slightly older, has always been a bit of a role model/hero/I'm-going-to-attempt-to-copy-everything-you-do kind of guy to me. So, as you can guess, when he started gathering home-brewing equipment and different varieties of wood to light in his brand new smoker, I jumped right in with him. Now, his knowledge of the processes is much more in depth than my own, being a slight perfectionist and a big fan of heavily researching everything before getting his hands dirty. Given the sheer amount of projects he's devoted time to over the years, John has a very extensive library, to say the least. Nerd. Me? I'm Wendy. I love to write, and I spend much of my time bathing in the artificial LED light of my computer screen. (Yeah, yeah. "Nerd.") While about 90% of the things you'll be seeing on this website are in my words, just know that this is a collaboration of two nerds who just want to share their love of creating and consuming a good brew and a tasty 'que. |
Our HistoryGrowing up, our mother did her best to pass on to us her love of all things food and drink, along with her "you won't know if you like it until you try it" mentality. The problem was, our father was that special type of picky eater who refused to have his food touching on his plate, and whose favorite meals consisted of frozen chicken patties or anything to do with pepperoni. While Mom was busy trying to introduce us to a variety of food groups and flavors in our daily meals, Dad was busy burning burgers on the grill and consistently using way too much butter... on everything you could conceivably put butter on. Honestly.
Now don't get me wrong. I can get down with some chicken nuggets. There is something extremely comforting about the way and the things Dad cooks, and the familiarity and nostalgia of childhood that comes rushing back in waves whenever he busts out the deep fryer for some crudely cut french fries. But tastes evolve, and I am grateful for Mom's efforts in introducing new flavors to us, because without that push, we wouldn't have discovered our own love of hops and malts, dry rubs and sauces, brine soaking and smoking, and experimenting with flavors, techniques and ingredients. Ultimately, I guess what I'm trying to say is "Thanks." |