Julischka

So, it’s 2004, and I’m attending my first Essen Spiel (anannual game convention that attracts upwards of 180,000 people every year) in Essen, Germany. We stay at the Hotel Arosa, and we’re having dinner at the end of theshow on Sunday night. At this dinner, I am introduced for the first time to anamber nectar called julischka.

This julischka glass is available from
Contemporary Complements by
special order.

Julischka is an Eastern European liqueur made from two basiccomponents: slivovitz (a plum brandy) and kruskovec (pear liqueur). It’s anaperitif (well, it’s usually an aperitif; we tend to make it a starter, thirdcourse, aperitif, and desserts 1, 3, 4 and 5). It’s sweet, fruity, with aslightly thick mouth feel and a lingering sweetness that never goes cloying.

The hotel dislocated the restaurant, and they’ve now endedup in Gelsenkirchen in their own place. Dragi, the cook, proprietor and SupremeHostess of the Essen Dinner (lifetime), makes one or more of the liqueurs, andadds a secret ingredient (eventually outed as hruska, a sour apple extract, ina very small quantity). I’ve discussed the initial process of replicating theliqueur on my Facebook page, but suffice it to say I’ve gone down a slightlydifferent path, spiking my blend with Zwack (more on that later) as adimensional layer. I can’t duplicate her julischka, and frankly don’t want to;this is about being able to talk with my American friends about the piles ofperfectly-cooked Argentinean steaks, the wienerschnitzel that’s paper-thin andbreaded expertly, the amazing goulash soup, and the hundreds (yes, hundreds) ofother menu items that we have available to eat there, and then be able to letthem have a little taste that honors the craftsmanship and flavor that we getto enjoy every time we visit.

Julischka

After the julischka atthe Waldhaus-Reese Steakhaus, Wiedehopfstrasse 17, Resser Mark. 45892Gelsenkirchen-Reese

1/4 c. slivovitz

3/4 c. kruskovec

3/4 oz. Zwack

Current paths ofinvestigation:

• Thereare only two major ingredients, so if I’m going to improve this, I have toimprove the alcohols involved, and kruskovec is the one I most want to playwith. I need one that’s thicker and clearer with the pear flavor, without goingtoo sweet. I can adjust the slivovitz to take more or less sweet out of it, butI want to start with the kruskovec as providing the next best opportunity forimprovement.
• I want to stay true to its geographic roots, and I do like the flavortouches that Zwack adds. That said, Zwack in the US is NOT what’s sold inGermany; Unicum (the REAL Zwack) is to US Zwack as a chainsaw is to a butterknife. I’m bringing home a little bit of the real thing to play with, hopingthat when I next put together a batch, I can see how this will affect theoverall flavor (probably forcing me to twitch the kruskovec up as well). Isthere another dimensionalizer out there to discover?...

Shrubbery

This drink is pictured in the

Double Spiral Etched Whiskey

Sour Glass, available on the

Contemporary Complements website.

Not every drink is for every person. Sometimes, one should accept that you’re beyond the bounds of what you like, and learn to smile, nod and say, “I think I would prefer something else.” (I can only imagine what that phrase would do to wine sales if people employed that phrase more confidently.)

Fortunately, this story does not end at something I don’t like, but it does lead us to a drink that’s not going to tickle everyone’s palate. This story begins at The Ravens Club, where Tammy Coxen (of Tammy’s Tastings) is doing a guest bartending gig. She’s made up a custom menu for the night, and two of the drinks feature shrub.

I do what any self-respecting person would do – order something else while waiting for the Google search for shrub to complete on my iPhone. Eventually, I get to a page that spells out exactly what we’ve been confronted with, which is a traditional blend of macerated fruit (cherries, here) and balsamic vinegar as a mixer (details below).

This is not a mixer for the timid, and it’s a ten-day process to make up a batch. So, of course, I snag a quart of cherries from farmer’s market, drag them home and start a-macerating (that is to say, cover ‘em in sugar and wait). At the end of the process, I have a bottle of shrub, and...well, not much to do with it. Recipes are a bit thin on the ground, owing to the fact that you’re putting, y'know, vinegar into your drink, cherries notwithstanding.

What recipes there are, often imagine it as a replacement for sour mix in things like a whiskey sour, if you handwave the fact you’re adding a mixer that threatens to beat up the other alcohols from across the room. But, the vinegar caused me to remember another alcohol in the bar that gets limited love due to its high alcohol and its unique herbal footprint – Chartreuse (green, to be precise).

So, a few attempts later, I have something that’s...well, pretty darn drinkable. None of our liquids here are shrinking violets (well, let’s give a pass to the club soda, there to let the flavors blend and linger a bit more softly on the palate). My wife gamely tried it, handed it back to me, and said, “I’d prefer to drink something else.”

The Kentucky Monk

2 oz. Maker’s Mark

.5 oz. balsamic black cherry shrub

.5 oz. Chartreuse

1 oz. soda water

Combine; pour over ice.

Balsamic Black Cherry Shrub

I could spell out the recipe, but credit where credit is due; here’s where I found the recipe I used. As Ann Arbor residents have the luxury of Zingerman’s Deli on our doorstep, there’s no such thing as cheap balsamic vinegar to use for this, just different levels of better.