Only-in-YEG shopping list: Meet Alberta's moonshine maker
Finding the perfect gift can be a struggle.
The malls are packed and trying to navigate online shopping sites can frazzle the most ardent shoppers.
To ease the holiday strain, Radio Active, CBC Edmonton's afternoon show, is bringing you an offering of only-in-Edmonton gifts which are sure to keep you off the naughty list.
The Only-in-YEG shopping list features the people behind the creations you'll find only in Edmonton.
Red Cup Distillery
Clad in overalls, his red wiry beard sprouting from his chin, Robert de Groot spends his days brewing moonshine.
He runs Red Cup Distilling, tucked away inside an unassuming strip mall on the outskirts of Vegreville.
His hooch is a special brew. It's not aged and — unlike prohibition-era white lighting — its primary ingredient is wheat, not corn.
It might not be strong enough to strip paint, but it's made the old-fashioned way.
"That's 100 per cent, single-green, wheat-malt, sour-mash, unaged whisky," said DeGroot.
"But whisky. The government ruined the name in 1928 after prohibition, by saying whisky must be aged in a barrel for three years."
Although De Groot calls his brew moonshine or wheat-shine, it has a sophisticated, carefully-crafted taste.
"Its sweet, but it's not sugary. There is fruit flavours, but there is not one you can distinguish," he said.
"It's a lovely Alberta flavour. It's a prairie flavour.
"This whisky is for people with shit on their boots, not in their boots."
Although DeGroot takes inspiration from the rum runners of a bygone era, he's no hillbilly.
He's a classically-trained opera singer, pianist and bassoonist with a university degree. He spent years working in finance, property management and finally the oil-and-gas industry before trading in his suit for overalls.
Born and raised in Prince George, B.C., he comes from a long line of farmers.
His father and grandfather would often make spirits out of wheat and rye from their fields, but he never learned the craft from his family.
"I was always embarrassed about my childhood," de Groot said.
"My parents raised me frugally and my Opa was frugal and I was always embarrassed about being low key and then I went to get my schooling and did all the things that people say are the right things."
But de Groot's perspective on the simple life changed when he fell on hard times. His wife was in school finishing her master's degree, and money was tight.
"There was a point when we only had $200 for six weeks of groceries," he said.
"And we had been eating out. I was getting really fat eating all these pre-made foods and doing all these things that my Opa would never do and my parents would never do."
Thirsty for change
To save money, they decided to skip the grocery store and head to the country in search of cheap produce. It was there, back on the farm, where he realized he was thirsty for something different.
"When we were coming back to the city, I said, 'Honey, we have enough money for a bottle of liquor' and that's when the women's intuition comes in and she goes, 'We won't have enough money for the next six weeks if you start drinking'," he said. "And so we bought a whole bunch of fruit and I started distilling."
It would be years before his weekend hobby would turn into a full-time career.
After an ugly parting of ways with an employer, he finally left his 9-to-5 job behind and started working on recreating the whisky of his ancestors.
But he needed a still first.
He couldn't afford an imported one so he contacted a friend with a special knowledge of the craft, an old work colleague who had been arrested back in the 1960s for an illicit hooch operation.
"So we built the still in Edmonton. I'm the only one that was licensed to build a still and AGLC approved it.
"All my equipment looks like it came from a garage sale. Each has a very important job to, but I'm the only that hasn't gone to a catalogue and picked [one out].
"You would find this in a barn or a shed in pretty much any country."
'Sometimes what we need to see is behind us'
Since the distillery officially opened in December 2015, he's had people from all over the world come to Vegreville to buy his brew, and he's sold out almost every batch he's made.
"Now trust me, there were some crappy batches at first," he said.
His business has been a journey and, like his hooch, De Groot says it's only getting better with time.
"It frustrated me to know that my grandparents knew how to do it and they didn't have university degrees. If Opa dropped out of school at Grade 1 to make ends meet and he can do it, why can't I?
"And that was the beginning of this humbling, that maybe we look too far forward and sometimes what we need to see is behind us.
