Disruptor

When I was in my twenties, I wrote my very first business plan. It was for a restaurant concept that I still haven't done, but still dream about. (I know, I know!) Included in this plan, was a 3 bbl brewery.  At the time, I was making beer in a 5-gallon bucket in my house. Infected beer mostly because although the New Brewer's Handbook taught me a lot, I seemed to miss the part about how important cleaning and sanitization were to the process. 

I was working as a GM at Bridget Foy's South Street Grill at the time, and one day, our Rolling Rock salesman told me that there was a new craft brewery opening up in Brewerytown. A section of Philadelphia that was historic for beer-making and where beer was first introduced to America in the 19th Century. I was intrigued, and although as a GM, I was working 6 days a week, I eagerly volunteered to work at the new brewery when it opened on my day off just to learn how to make beer like a pro.

Like its cousin bread, beer wakes up early. Up and dressed in overalls and pigtails by 5 a.m. on my only day off, I went in to sweep floors and run for lunch just to be around the process,  preparing myself to open a restaurant I had not even found funding for. 

The head brewer saw my passion and let me start brewing on the big system almost immediately. 

This was hard work- a man's work. There were very few women brewers in America then, yet here I was, running brew days in the 40 bbl brewhouse, huffing 50 lb bags of grain up the steps of the grist mill and even kegging beer manually with a rubber sledgehammer dressed in a yellow rain suit that only kept a few parts of me dry that did not include my face or my ears or nose or my socks. 

This was in the mid-90s. The beer revolution was just starting. If you think making beer is hard, try convincing a restaurant and bar owner to put a $100 keg of craft beer on one of their prized tap handles. It was nearly impossible. Replace our Miller Lite with a beer style called IPA that has kitschy, punny names that tickled the brains of only beer geeks and Star Wars fans. Make less profit? Forget it. 

I didn't forget it. We pushed. We went bar to bar, putting pressure on bar owners to come into the light, jump on the trend, and take a chance. I went to beer festivals to pour beer and schmooze festivalgoers. I encouraged them to demand that their local bar carry our products. I was a bit of a novelty. A chick brewer??? I got more marriage offers than people agreeing to talk to their tavern-owning friends.

At one point, we had a few smaller breweries going. One at the sports arena, one downtown, and I was making almost all of the beer at the big brewery. I happened to go to an Irish festival on my day off and was surprised to see on the beer truck, Coors Light, Bud, and two of our brands as well.  I sat in my lawn chair watching almost every person at the festival in line for our beers. No one was drinking the popular brands. And I knew that I had personally brewed every single drop of beer that the hundreds of attendees were drinking that day. 

I mention all of this because in talking to someone today who commented that what I am doing with Zero Proof Go is going to be hard. I'm trying to change minds and change American culture. Let's just say, I am not scared of hard work. I am used to being a disruptor. It's kind of my thing.

#zeroproofgo