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  • For as long as I can remember, my father, brother, and I have struggled to find a middle ground to bond over. My dad and I love sports, my brother has never shown an interest. My brother and father both read novels about Russian history, I can barely even read their titles. Something interesting began to develop as my brother and I grew older, however. We began to bond over a liquid treat that has been a common ground for different groups of people of almost all races and creeds for centuries. Once my brother's and my minds had opened to the delicious frothy beverage, beer quickly became one of the main conversation pieces on which my house was focused. We learned all about the history, the variety, how to tell the differences between the different types, and most importantly, how to make beer. We realized that if mankind figured out how to create beer 10,000 years ago in the huts of Mesopotamia, than three 21st century college educated men could figure it out in mom's kitchen. We collected all of the equipment that would be necessary and set it up in our house. As concerned neighbors and loved ones looked on from a distance, we spent a weekend mixing and mashing ingredients looking to create the perfect brew. About a month later, the day had finally come to taste the product that we had poured our souls into. We popped of a bottle cap and poured a tall glass. To all of our surprise, the beer tasted like beer. I won't tell you that it was a great beer, but in a blind taste test, most people would have correctly identified it as beer.
    A Kitchin family tradition was born that day. Now, every time my brother and I return home for a holiday or occasion, the three of us gather our materials and brew beer. We have gotten a lot better at brewing beer and have even entered our home brew into contests. I know that this will be a family tradition for a long time, and something that we will remember for the rest of our lives.
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