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!

A new dawn, a new battle

And as I prepare to enter tomorrow's guerre de pommes, I want to be aware of all the scars of battles past. There is a saying in kendo, Japanese fencing, along the lines of "There are three outcomes of any duel: you die, your opponent dies, or you both die. In two of the three, you die, so fight as if it were your last act." While the reasoning does not stand up to scrutiny and cocktail battles pretty much just end with everyone happily tipsy, the conviction is nonetheless a worthy approach.

As such, I want to get the synesthesia recipes out into the world, as they are some of my favorite original drinks. The theme — originally posed as creating the cocktail representation of favorite songs — was a tricky one, and more subjective than I realized at first glance. In fact, my two drinks interpret the theme quite differently. One is a punning exploration of a snapshot in time well framed by a particular song, the other is closer to the synesthesiac ideal originally intended.

Let's Make Out

This was a collaborative effort for Plenty and me, referencing a late night drunken subway station last summer. This was a time characterized by bitterness and whiskey, but it was also the turning point into something pretty damn good. It's a variant on an Old Fashioned, trying to use as many bitters as possible, but ending with a little love — Parfait amour, an orange liqueur with some floral notes to it.

• 2 oz. bourbon (Buffalo Trace)
• 1/8 T. Campari
• 1/2 T. Marie Brizard Parfait Amour
• 2 dashes Fee Brothers whiskey aged bitters
• 2 dashes Angostura bitters
• 2 dashes Regan's orange bitters

Brother Sport

The songs on Merriweather Post Pavilion have a tendency to somehow float lightly above one's consciousness, never staying in one place long enough to be pinned down. It's a bit sweet and the Creme de Violette makes the color a horrid gray, but the mix of flowers and vanilla held together by gin is a fine, fine drink.

• 3 parts gin (Boodles)
• 2 parts lemon (I used one lemon for 3 oz gin)
• 2 parts Lillet Blanc
• 1 part Creme de Violette (Lavender would be fascinating here or as an addition, I think)
• 1 part Elderflower Syrup (Perhaps St. Germain liqueur would work here, but I used an old bottle from a trip to Austria)
• The slightest dash vanilla extract

The last ingredient is totally the secret that brings it all together. While Animal Collective's music is bright and elusive, it is also rich. The vanilla cuts through the dancing flavors that come before it and pulls them along into a cohesive drink.

Sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkling cocktails

My heart lies with whiskey, but I feel like I'm at my best with gin. It was, after all, my first crush in the liquor world.

We had decided upon cocktails that bubble. About a week earlier, I had stumbled on an idea that would be ideal for this. Among the tastiest drinks out there is a French 75: a shot of gin hidden in a refreshing glass of champagne and lemon juice. It's aptly named, since it seems classy from afar, but will quickly knock you on your ass like the piece of artillery for which it is named. Even tastier, though, is an Aviation: gin, lemon juice, maraschino with a hint of violet liqueur in a harmony that would be the envy of any barbershop quartet. You can see how there is some overlap here. I'm calling this an Ack-Ack, from the WWII anti-aircraft guns, and it is good.

The Ack-Ack

• 1 T. Gin (I used Boodles to decent results, but only because I was serving to a lot of people)
• 1 T. lemon juice
• 1/2 T. Maraschino
• 1/2 t. Creme de Violette (Rothman and Winter, natch)
• 2+ T. Prosecco, the dryer the better.

Nothing fancy about the preparation. Mix everything but the sparkling wine in a flute if you can, then top it off.