Archive for the ‘Drunken Bunny Liqueurs’ Category
Fancied a go at something I know, so I bought a can of Cabernet Sauvignon concentrate at Wilkinson’s (these ready-kits already have grape tannin mixed in which saved me a trip to a brewing shop this time). The instruction packet seemed a bit cavalier with cleanliness, telling me to pour up the grape juice with 1.8 liters of cold water and 450 g brewing sugars then pitching the yeast and nutrient packets. I opted to drop in a couple of Campden tabs and waiting 24 hours before inoculation. Starting specific gravity was 1.142 in 3.8 liters (I added a little more sugar to call it 1.120 in the topped up 4.5 liter final volume). Pitched at 19:00 on 30 January, topped up with club soda (clean, acidic) on 1 February.
As with the mead over the course of December and January, I had little control over the temperature but the growth/conversion was nearly as advertised this time and finished after 8 days instead of the 7 the package suggested. The ‘stop’ packet contains metabisulfite (a crushed Campden tablet, essentially) so I added ½ tsp of potassium sorbate to inhibit any rogue yeasts that escape exposure to the toxic gases released. I then deferred to the packaging and used the Wilko chitosan finings in lieu of my trusted gelatin/kieselsol regimen. Clear as a bell in 10 days with a SG of 0.982 (suggests 18.1% ABV) and bottled on 18 February (20 days from start to finish).
The claim is it is ready to drink immediately and we sacrificed a glass to this theory — more MD 20/20 than Chateau Lafite Rothschild but definitely wine. We’ll open another at monthly or so intervals until we are down to the last bottle which will get a full 2 years rest.
We’re rolling into spring, now, and soon we can do a bit of foraging for ingredients. Nice to know that this simple method works like it says on the tin, though.
21 December 2016: The First Day of Winter and last day the lab is open until 3 January. Boiled 3 pounds of honey in enough water to bring the total to 4.3 litres and added nutrients (ammonium sulfate, mostly) and glucose to bring the specific gravity to 1.092. Once cooled to slightly warmer than my hands, pitched the yeast (5 grams of a generic but highly alcohol tolerant strain) and gave it a good shake.
2 January 2017: Twelve days in and the fermentation is slow but the house cools to 16°C overnight and rarely reaches 22°C during waking hours so no big surprise there. Thinking of buying a heating jacket for this bottle (we used to have one but it wouldn’t work with UK electrics — 110 V and 60 Hz back in the States), but this is the first British batch and I’m kind of interested in how it goes in ambient conditions.
8 January: Racked the wort off the lees to try to unstick the fermentation but, on weighing 42.5 mL of the juice at 41 grams (for a SG = 0.965…and at a cooler temperature than the initial measurement), decided it wasn’t so much “stuck” as “finished.” This suggests 16.7% abv, which is about the tolerance of my yeast, as well; with that specific gravity, this will be a very dry batch. I transferred it to a clean jug with an air lock and will check on things every week or so.
22 January: Two weeks since racking off the lees the fermentation has slowed to a halt (the sides of the air lock stay roughly level). Added potassium sorbate and a Campden tablet and will swirl this for a couple of days before fining.
25 January 2017: Fining was done with gelatin followed by kieselsol, then it was siphoned into the most recent four bottles we’ve emptied. We also were able to get a couple of glasses out of this batch before the lees started to invade the siphon. The bottles will rest until this year’s winter solstice when we crack one open for judgement (two if we deem it ready); the others will get a longer rest (the idea being that we try another bottle each year until it’s gone).
The immature mead in the glasses was decidedly harsh but we wanted to get a baseline tasting. A little beer-y and VERY dry, I have high hopes for the aged product. The beer flavour might have been partly flocculated yeasts and mostly the honey but we are definitely looking at otherwise character-free beverage. In the best case, developing, over the course of the next year or two we’ll find a bit of the enolic and floral aspect that is just hinted at in the raw mead, tonight. For a start, it’s not bad but definitely not really good, yet.
We arrived in England 8 years ago, yesterday and I started writing this blog a month later. I’ve done this annual tribute every year since. This one is short. Here are the highlights:
I became a British Citizen 3 months too late to vote in the Brexit Referendum.
I ran in the Wales Marathon and stopped, en route, at some pubs (which may not surprise regular visitors to these pages).
I drank in 260 new pubs bringing the tally to 1722. Moving house to the outskirts of London made the difference, here…before the move, the number of new pubs was 51 (in 6½ months); after the move, the virgin running territory yielded the other 209.
Drunken Bunny Liqueurs has branched out to include brewing with a mead in the works (started a month ago but not yet bottled and will need a year of rest, thereafter). Reports on this will follow, in due time.
Year 9 is starting rainy and cold and with an 11 mile training run to steer past (or, rather, through) a pub. Here’s to the same old stuff for another round.
Year 6 (but more info in the end of the Daily Tipple series and the Year of Fish and Chips)
I bought some cooking apples — hard, tart beasts worthless as snacks — then promptly lost interest in baking with them. They had aged a week when I filtered the Red Flag Sloe Gin the first week of November, so I cleaned the Winchesters and refilled them with these ingredients:
4 large cooking apples cut to bottle neck sized chunks
1/2 cup of medium brown sugar
4 heaping tablespoons of cinnamon
Vodka to float the pieces (just over a liter)
Notably, this is the first apple infusion I’ve tried that doesn’t involve bourbon. A good shake every week and we filtered it for one of our Thanksgiving treats, something vaguely akin to applejack but with a definitive breakfast cereal tinge.
Apple Jacks for the Apple Jackass in all of us.
There was no sloe gin in 2015 due to me dropping the ball as regards getting out to pick the berries in 2014 after the very good batch of Two Cures (from which we sampled for Quality Control purposes throughout the infusion year starting with the initial mixing). To be fair, I tried after the first cold snap of 2014 but every blackthorn I could find had been stripped bare by less patient practitioners (there had been a Radio 4 programme in which sloe gin featured that year). The year before that (2013), it was time for the Monstrous Erection; 2012 found us drinking from the Devil’s Punchbowl (part of the Step-by-Step process write-ups with the final, delicious step linked here).
Like 2014, last year had a really late first frost…nearly New Year’s Eve. So, I harvested the Monday after Socialism 2015 at the edge of the A420 on the 66 bus route I was still shackled to when we lived in Swindon (the year before must’ve been a fluke). I put the berries in a deep freeze at -80°C for 8 hours to simulate a hard frost (in Siberia). Jeremy Corbin had only recently been made leader of the Labour Party and I mocked up the label’s main theme then in honour of him and Billy Bragg singing a rousing version of The Red Flag.
One year to the week later, and it is filtered and decanted. And, delicious.
The people’s gin is deepest red
It’s lifted to our martyred dead.
And, though we pour it stiff and cold
It warms the throats of young and old.
Then raise the scarlet liquor high;
And, at its pleasure live and die.
Though cowards flinch, teetotalers sneer,
We’ll keep the Red Flag pouring here.
–The Red Flag, sort of.
The Christmas Drinking Season seems to start earlier and earlier (the one for this year, for example, started in Reagan’s first term as President). With Halloween, I reckon it is the OFFICIAL start, though, so here’s a recipe I made up when we first moved to England at the start of 2009:
Malted Milk Ball Hot Toddy
2 heaping spoons of Horlicks (or other malted beverage powder)
2 spoons of Nesquik (or Bosco, or whatever)
2 shots of vodka¹
Boiling water to fill the mug
What makes it spooky? That’s my Edgar Allen Poe mug!
¹ Traditionally, this is made with bourbon or dark rum — both of which are grand — but the only brown liquor I have tonight is single malt.
Drunken Bunny Liqueurs has a life of its own, now, as well as a poorly maintained Facebook presence.
The original “Hashlam in Society” Treatise probably only means something to you if you know something about Hash House Harriers (mostly insider humour).
Here are some of Edie’s Swindon era appearances as nurse, internet star, and gardener.
No students were harmed as a result of attending Swindon University. Which is to say, no students attended Swindon University.