Dad's Rootbeer
Contributed by Lynda Black
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"And you will know it's done when you hear the caps popping.”
My dad wore many hats at once. These are some of the hats I remember.
Dad. Husband. Son. Brother. Community Activist. Boy Scout Cub Master. Friend. Church Member. Neighborhood Block Captain. Navy Yard Worker. Community Board Member. Son of a Sunday School Superintendent and Root Beer Maker.
My dad wore many hats at once. These are some of the hats I remember.
Dad. Husband. Son. Brother. Community Activist. Boy Scout Cub Master. Friend. Church Member. Neighborhood Block Captain. Navy Yard Worker. Community Board Member. Son of a Sunday School Superintendent and Root Beer Maker.
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My dad enjoyed quiet bike rides, walks, wandering and tinkering around the house. I think my dad’s real jam was creating something fun, enjoyable or providing community service. Root beer making included.
Making batches of root beer was a tradition for our family. I don't know when it began, but my paternal grandfather passed the root beer making baton to my dad. Prior to that, my grandfather, whom I called Poppy, turned the liquid root beer concentrate (or extract) into large batches of root beer soda for the annual church Sunday School picnics and family picnics. I imagine Dad watched Poppy make it
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in the back yard or basement of our family home. When mixed and bottled, Poppy allowed it to ferment and cool in the basement. That's exactly what my dad did.
Making batches of root beer was a tradition for our family. I don't know when it began, but my paternal grandfather passed the root beer making baton to my dad.
Root beer’s popularity began in 1876 at the U.S. Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia. Born in 1894, I imagine my grandfather, birthed and raised in Philadelphia, learned about the beverage as a young man. Perhaps his parents made it. When he was 25, root beer’s popularity exploded due to prohibition. Advertised as a healthy drink, even though “beer” was part of its name, root beer avoided banishment.
My grandfather was the Sunday School superintendent for his church, Campbell AME. Most churches had Sunday School picnics. In this church’s case, the entire church community attended the picnic which was held in a beautiful green park with picnic benches and play areas. The gathering included games, lots of food, conversation and, of course, root beer.
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After my grandfather passed away, my dad took over. The root beer making process began a few weeks before the bubbly beverage was needed. The ingredients included Hires Root Beer concentrate or extract, sugar, yeast, water and dry ice. My dad would organize the equipment: clean glass bottles, a box of bottle caps, a bottle capper, a large metal tub, boxes to hold the filled bottles, and a tube (to transfer the soda from the tub to the bottle). All would be lined up in the basement days before he needed to make it.
The root beer making process began a few weeks before the bubbly beverage was needed.
I don’t have the exact recipe they used, but here is a similar recipe: https://therecipecritic.com/homemade-root-beer/#wprm-recipe-container-119382
Completing the recipe, filling and storing the bottles, and cleaning up took hours. Dad would stand over the tub pouring, stirring, and supervising any helpers. My sisters, brother, neighborhood friends and I would stand by and help when we could. My dad could rely on our chorus of questions. “How long will it take?” “When will it be ready?” Why can’t I have it now?” “Can I have a taste?” The aroma was sweet and earthy at once.
A week or so later, the bottles now ready to open, my dad would go into the basement to collect a few. If you were fortunate to be around, he would meet you outside in the back yard as he emerged through the basement door, open bottles and glasses in hand. The white carbonation tickled our noses as we drank.
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“How long will it take?” “When will it be ready?” Why can’t I have it now?” “Can I have a taste?” The aroma was sweet and earthy at once.
Refreshed and satisfied, we drank as much as we were allowed. Occasionally, much to our joy, my siblings and I would find some bottles on reserve in the basement weeks later. When they were all gone, we had to wait until the next summer. Summer time root beer was the tradition.
The sound of the cap being pried off the bottle. A hissing sound.
The fizz of the cap coming off, tickling your nose
Like its evidence rising in the glass, escaping from glass
The fizz of the cap coming off, tickling your nose
Like its evidence rising in the glass, escaping from glass
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Tools needed:
Large metal tub or vat.
Bottle capper
A large spoon for stirring
A funnel and tube for transferring the root beer to the bottle
Sterilized bottles, caps
A place to store the bottles until they are ready for refrigeration
Directions:
Place the large vat on the floor (he prepared it indoors).
Two arms, bent at the elbow.
Hands/fingers grasping two handles.
Placing other equipment in position for use.
Holding a bag upright (Pouring the sugar in the pot)
Stirring motion over, possible with both hands, well over a vat; standing upright, legs probably a shoulder’s width apart.
Hands and arms in a Pumping (I don't recall the tool he used.) or squeezing motion to activate flow of liquid through tube
Hands and arms grasping bottles, caps and bottle capping tool to place caps on filled bottles
Walking with hands holding a box filled with bottles of rootbeer
And you will know it's done when you hear the caps popping.
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Note from Project Director, Mike Durkin
Multimedia Artist Lynda Black created a series of objects exploring the kinetic nature of root beer, the fizzing and the bubbling. Lynda was inspired by her family's Root Beer recipe, and to celebrate her ancestral lineage. Lynda was drawn to combine her skills as a fiber artist, sculptor, and performer to create these objects that draw on those inspirations.
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