Quietness Distilled

As the year draws to a close and we are fermenting the last of the 2012 seasons pears and apples, the poem (#1540) by Emily Dickinson comes to mind:

As imperceptibly as grief
  The summer lapsed away, —
  Too imperceptible, at last,
  To seem like perfidy.
  A quietness distilled,
  As twilight long begun,
  Or Nature, spending with herself
  Sequestered afternoon.
  The dusk drew earlier in,
  The morning foreign shone, —
  A courteous, yet harrowing grace,
  As guest who would be gone.

  And thus, without a wing,

  Or service of a keel,
  Our summer made her light escape
  Into the beautiful.




On Saturday, we combined the taste of summer with a winter whiskey with a twist on the traditional whiskey sour and served mini-cocktails at the tasting room.


Apricot Whiskey Sour


2 parts oat whiskey

1 part lemon juice (strained of pulp)
1 part apricot liqueur
3/4 part cardamom simple syrup
a few shakes of orange bitters

Shaken in a large amount of ice and strained into glasses.