I’M IN A CRAFT BEER BAR IN BROOKLYN,sipping a $9 stout and looking for black people. “Juicy” is on the speakers, and Notorious B.I.G. grew up a five-minute walk from my barstool here on the dividing line between Clinton Hill and Bedford-Stuyvesant. This is a traditionally black neighborhood, but right now, at 10:30pm on a Thursday, the only people in the bar are me (white), the bartender (white), and a stocky guy with a beard down at the end mouthing lyrics and nursing a bomber of what looks like Hill Farmstead (he’s white, too).
My search isn’t going well so far.
Damn, that Infante can drop a hell of a lede. These are the opening lines to a recent THRILLIST (I think you have to say it in all caps right?) feature, There are Almost No Black People Brewing Craft Beer. Here’s Why, in which I play the dubious role of “expert” source. Many thanks to Dave for the conversation and including some of the more lucid of my thoughts.