Apple prequel. I mean prologue.

I am trying to prepare for Saturday's tournament of "apple." Like the Tsuki thrust in "Sword of Doom," I feel my preparation may be in vain, and the real battle fought elsewhere. Apples are seasonal, everyone knows that. It has only become obvious to me now just how seasonal they are. It is mid September, and all our apples are still from New Zealand. I'm guessing that in two weeks we won't be able to unbury ourselves from all the Michigan apples, and we will be drowning in their cider. Fruit drinks are not so much my thing, outside those liqueurs I made, and I worry about how to do this. What goes with apples? And don't say cinnamon. I love apple pie, but have zero, nay, less-than-zero desire to drink it. Also don't say caramel. Pork chops? I suppose, but there's always something better to do with pork, and I'm not making pork chops in my drink. The aspect of apples that I like is their crunch, and the flash of flavor you get when you just bite into them: they do this better than any other fruit. How to bottle that lightning? I can't say I know. You obviously can't put the texture of an apple into a drink, but maybe you can capture that feeling, nonetheless. Thus, I am currently soaking a finely chopped pink lady apple (from New Zealand) in some genever. I'm also taking a ginger-centered approach, in hopes that some of these dry, crisp spices may combine well with apple flavor from French brut cider, or American apple brandy. Good Calvados is too expensive to mess with. We will see where things go, or if I'm practicing this one move like a chump while the real melee is going on in some teahouse miles away between Mssrs. Gin and Dragon.