In which an apple competition becomes an applejack competition

Calvados tastes like apples. I think we can all agree on this. Also, it is delicious. And then there is its backwoods cousin, the one that watches NASCAR for the crashes and doesn't care for booklearnin', applejack. I am perhaps being cruel, since there is really only one company, Laird's, that makes applejack and they make only three products that I can find here. One they call applejack, one they call straight apple brandy (it doesn't have the neutral spirits that their applejack does), and one they call old apple brandy.

Of course, there's no intrinsic reason that Laird's wouldn't be as good and full of apple flavor as a calvados, but the fact of the matter is that it isn't. The apple is there, sure, but the barrel flavor competes with it instead of supports it. The trick to using the straight apple brandy, as I see it, is to fill in the bright apple notes that aren't present and to change the finish to something nicer than what is kindly supplied by the brandy.

Applejack comes up in plenty enough classic cocktails that it wasn't hard to find tasty-looking drinks. What became hard was finding drinks that I could make without going shopping. I eventually settled on a classic preparation called a Star Cocktail and adapted it slightly:

Star Cocktail

• 1 oz. Apple brandy (Laird's bonded)
• 1 oz. Sweet vermouth (Martini and Rossi)
• 2 dashes Peychaud's bitters

Stir with ice.

It's not something I'd pull out often, but it's actually not a shabby drink. That initial winey flavor in the vermouth sets a nice stage for the applejack and the finish is made markedly better by the Peychaud's. I'll be curious to do this again once I get a new bottle of Cinzano, since I think the vanilla in that will play even better with the apple.

My original drink went in a really different direction. For some reason, my thoughts immediately went to smoky flavors. I also expected that pomegranate and apple would go well together, so I had made some grenadine earlier in the week based on recipes seen online. I couldn't help but go with a not-terribly-original and far too cutesy name. Apologies.

Pomme-pom

• 1 oz. Applejack (Laird's straight apple brandy)
• 0.5-1 oz. Anejo tequila (Don Eduardo)
• 1/4 oz. Lemon juice
• 1/4 oz. Benedictine
• 3/4 oz. Grenadine (Put 1 c. pomegranate juice in a saucepan and reduce by half. Mix with 1 c. pomegranate juice and 1/2 c. sugar)

I actually recommend shaking this one instead of stirring, since I think the extra water helps the drink and the color is nicer when opaque.

The version of this guy that I first served was with only 0.5 oz. tequila. That drink had a bit more apple flavor, but I got some suggestions to bump up the tequila side of it. I went back and poured a bit more Don Eduardo in and came up with an arguably better drink. It may also want a dash more benedictine than I note here.

How 'bout dem apples?

This past Saturday we held our Apple Battle, with thunderous results. Were apples kicked across the room? Yes. Were said apples then split in half by Dances with Gin's trusty Bar Katana? Indeed. Did I prepare apple juice by headbutting a raw apple against a table? Perhaps.

My traditional cocktail this week is built on Applejack, specifically Laird's "Bottled in Bond 100 Proof" Applejack. My understanding was that this was a good choice, because it would be pure apple distillate, unadulterated by grain alcohol. This may or may not be true, but the bottom line is that it has, in this Dragon's opinion, a cough syrupy aftertaste. Not my fave. I wish I had sprung for the aged applejack, or just bought a better apple brandy.

Anyway, back to the cocktail, which this week is Fallen Leaves, not to be confused with Falling Leaves. The recipe is simple, and seems to be universally agreed upon:

Fallen Leaves

• 3/4 oz Apple Brandy
• 3/4 oz Sweet Vermouth
• 1/4 oz Dry Vermouth
• Dash of Brandy

Although Mrs. Dragon and I are not quite poor, we are cheap, and I wanted to play with applejack, so my version is slightly modified:

Fallen Leaves (a la Dragon)

• 3/4 oz Applejack
• 3/4 oz Sweet Vermouth
• 1/4 oz Dry Vermouth
• Dash of Slivovice

Brandy might be nice here, but the plum flavor from the slivovice very nicely complements the apple. For awhile I also thought I was out of dry vermouth, so I tried replacing it with equal parts Zubrowka and seltzer. I found some dry vermouth, and I think it worked better.

I'm not sure that what I added was Slivovice, actually. It's plummy, and Czech. The ingredient list includes water, alcohol, "Slivovice Distillate", and "Plum Macerate." The name on the bottle is "Chalupařska", which translates as "Cottage." Fortunately, it does not taste like a cottage.

Anyway, if you don't have time to run out to Olomouc to pick some up, maybe try Jelinek? I can't vouch for it either way. But the plum is nice.

For my modern cocktail, I put together two variations on a French 75. The idea was that if you take any cocktail with champagne, then replace the champagne with a decent hard cider, you'll probably get a tasty cocktail. For the French 75 at least, this is true. Of course, the devil hides in the word "decent" -- I tried a few ciders, and the only usable one I found was Scrumpy's, which has a lot of apple flavor without being too too sweet. It's a bit like the Dragon's Milk that I used when making the Black Velvet, in that it's a bit dull on its own (though still better than the other ciders I tried), but makes a truly awesome cocktail.

I actually came out with two tasty variations on the French 75.

French 69

• 2 oz Gin (Hendrick's)
• 1 oz Lemon Juice
• 1/2 oz Simple Syrup
• 3-5 oz of Hard Cider (Scrumpy's)

American 75

• 2 oz Rye (Rittenhouse 100 proof)
• 1 oz Lemon Juice
• 1/2 oz Simple Syrup
• 3-5 oz of Hard Cider (Scrumpy's)
• Maraschin-faux Cherry

I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I added one dash of Angostura bitters to one or both of these, but I can't remember which. At this point I think of Angostura as a bit like pepper, so let me suggest that you add it to taste.

I was surprised to find that cider and gin worked together. I think with a non-Hendrick's gin one would have to be careful, since a sharper juniper flavor might clash with the cider. Dances with Gin pointed out that the American 75 is also closely related to a Manhattan, and he's absolutely right -- apparently hard cider ~ sweet vermouth, as well as champagne*. Truly it is a marvelous beverage!

*Perhaps we'll see if transitivity works for cocktail substitutions at a later date!

Battle Sage — Hajime!

The illustrious Stumbling Dragon came up with our first subject of Cocktail Kumite: Sage. It is a delightful aromatic leaf, one I highly recommend in this recipe for roasted/braised chicken, and just like mint, it seemed like a natural fit for cocktails.
It was not.
As Mr. Blood and Sand mentioned, the aroma is a small part of sage's flavor profile, with the rest tasting like you took a variety of shrubs and decaying leaves and blended them into a distasteful vegetal mess. The trick of any sage cocktail was to harness the good bits we know and love while masking the trash.

One of the drinks I made is lost to history, a fate it deserved. All I can say is that making a good sage syrup was harder than I expected.

My second concoction was considerably better. Inspired by sage in fruit desserts, namely its use with pear and apple, and the forehead-splittingly obvious mint julep, I made an apple-pear-sage julep. While it won't be served at Pegu Club any time soon, it does have potential:

Apple-Pear-Sage Julep

• 2 parts bourbon
• 1 part pear brandy
• 1 part applejack (this could be favorably replaced by calvados, if you had the resources)
• 2 or 3 medium sized leaves sage, plus one.
• 1/4 teaspoon sugar (or more)
• dash Benedictine
• twist of lemon

Put the sugar, maybe the Benedictine, and the sage leaves into a tumbler and muddle like there is no tomorrow. It's the only way to get any quality sage flavor out, as best as we found. Combine everything else in a shaker, mix until cold, and add to the glass. Take the extra sage leaf and rub it around the lip of the glass to get the sage aroma out and squeeze the drink with the lemon twist.

I think this actually has some merit, but as with pretty much everything else that all three of us created, it would have been better without the sage. Actually, no, the aromatic sage on the glass is a nice gimmick, but the muddled sage probably was more useful for inspiration than actual flavor.

As an aside, try to make the Tenochtitlan. It is amazing.