The Black Rose

...or, more accurately, Schwarze Rose Cocktailbar. This is a bar right around the corner from the hotel we stay at in Essen every year. It's got the vibe of a neighborhood bar - live music, a basic floor layout that puts the bar in the center of everything, and a small garden area in front to accomodate the overflow crowd (or the people who just want to drink in the absence of the live music).

They also have an amazing drink menu. Sorted by strength of drink (beware too many drinks off of the "Taxi" page), they have a nice variety of classic drinks, revised fan favorites, and a few homegrown libations. And every drink comes out of the back with a presentation that looks like a fruit truck collided with a candy shop. Seriously.

It would be easy enough to dismiss it as a bit of bar theater, unnecessary to the drink, but for me it goes to something deeper. When I visit Germany, one of the things I look forward to most is an ice cream sundae. And not just any ice cream sundae, but one with liqueurs, and nuts and sprinkles, and fresh-made whipped heavy cream, and streamers, and party favors, and a pony. Okay, not a pony, but an ice cream sundae, from ice cream parlors from Munich to Frankfurt to Essen, all seem to be built around not only amazing ingredients, but a sense of presentation.

No one needs an ice cream sundae, in the same way that no one needs a drink. Which is to say, of course, that we have both because we ideally are choosing to take a flight of fancy and whimsy - to have something that we choose to want. And, for things like these that have at least a kernel of frivolousness at their core, bringing a sense of theater and presentation to the experience seems natural upon reflection. I've had amazing drinks around the world, and many of them have been served with care, and craftsmanship, and an attention to detail that was stunning. And the process of creating a perfectly-proportioned drink in a basic rocks glass can be as much theater as a tiki drink magically appearing from a back room with a shaved ice scoop and half of Samoa's vegetation thrusting out of the top of the mug. Making a commitment to the experience of a drink, whether it be "tableside mixology" or lavish presentation, all contribute to the emotions of pleasure and exploration a voluntary experience should be.

It's easy and uncomplicated to make a drink for myself at home, and perhaps a hour or two of mise en place for an audience of one is unnecessary. But things like a Spanish coffee at La Dolce Vita, or a Zombie at the Mai Kai, or even watching the bartenders put together the Tuesday punch at the Alley Bar, all provide entertainment as well as a tasty glass. Places that understand the value of theater as part of a quality evening out, and exemplify it in every glass, or bowl, or plate that is produced, should be celebrated when it accomplishes its mission.

But I still give away my gummi rings on my Schwarze Rose drinks. Someone else is welcome to that little bit of drama.

German Shopping

So, I'm back from Germany; this is our annual trip to the Essen Spiel Fest, where over 45,000 people play board and card games, and I'm there to wallow in game culture for a week (with a bit of sightseeing on the back end). And, annually, I get to visit one of my favorite liquor stores: the Banneke Feinkost Flüssig in the shopping district off of the main train station. There's always stress in deciding what goes into the luggage going home, always mindful of the duty-free limit of one liter of spirits per person (and willing to pay the $3 for each liter over if it's something I can't get at home).

In an earlier post, I mused about bringing home a bottle of Bacardi Black, just 'cuz; I passed on that. Similarly, I scoured Schipol airport's duty-free shops for the limited edition Corenwyn that Bols just released with no success. I ended up with four bottles, one of which is a Big Deal. Here's what I found:

• In my continuing quest for a julischka recipe for domestic consumption, I bought a bottle of what passes as the commercial stuff in Germany. If I had never tasted the Waldhaus-Resse Steakhaus julischka, I'd probably be quite happy with this. As I HAVE had the privilege, this is too thin, less sweet, and not as lingering on the palate as what we are accustomed to. This all plays into my working theory that of the two basic ingredients (slivovitz and kruskovec), the kruskovec is the central taste (and, for that matter, consistency) driver, with slivovitz the restrictor plate on the viscosity and sweetness. I could probably tweak this and make it better, but I'm still looking for the right kruskovec. However...

• While wandering the streets of Aachen, I ran across a small liquor/cigar store that may have given me another ingredient for tweaking my julischka recipe. Previously, we revealed the secret ingredient in the reference julischka as hruska, a green apple extract. I purchased a small bottle of Gravenstein apple liqueur, and we're going to see if this can't act as a substitute. It's definitely tart, with a bit of apple-sweet peeking out from below, but not something I'd be eager to drink alone. We'll see how it goes with our next batch of test julischka.

• Nuremberg has lebkuchen as its signature cookie, Köln has its Dom-Spekulatius (a thin butter cookie-crisp), and Aachen has printen - a ginger cookie, glazed, with a thin, crisp exterior and a soft-but-toothsome interior. And, with the cookies, there's a liqueur that's based on the cookie. It's a very light, sweet liqueur; not as gingerbready as I would have hoped for, but pleasant. I might try tarting it up to punch up the cookie's characteristics, but it's a nice, different liqueur option.

• The star of the show, though, is The King's Ginger. It hasn't been available in the U.S. before this year, and despite its royal heritage and century of existence, it has only had a standardized recipe for the last few years. This tastes just like ginger heaven, with a taste that delivers even more than the aroma of the liqueur promises. It's base is actually a single malt (from The Glenrothes, if my reading is to be believed), and the lemon notes add a high tremulo to a warm, lingering, clean but not cloying taste of ginger in your mouth. I'll be trying this with cider, rum punch, and anything else I can get my hands on. I'm firing Canton as far as I'm concerned; this stuff is unbelieveable.

We actually brought back one more bottle: champagne that my wife received as a gift from the proprietor of the Waldhaus-Resse Steakhaus. We're always so thankful for our friends and partners-in-crime while we're over there, and the bottle will have an honored spot at our New Year's celebration this year. And, we're not done talking about our Germany adventures quite yet; stay tuned for our next episode...