Originally Posted by Huntsman
The verge totally fails for me in a Widow's Kiss. I don't get the point at all as its herbaceousness fights the honey of the Benedictine and the apple in the Calvados. I can't remember my favorite mixing Calvados, and it is pissing me off.
Actually, I've got the "recommendation" from you.
For the Yellow, I go with the Widow's Kiss:
It's a killer. It's insane. It's wrong in every imaginable way. You know, you know, that it's wrong....and yet. The moment it touches your tongue, oh! so sweet, and then! You are a baby again, what is that memory? Applesauce....yes, applesauce, warm with cinnamon, nutmeg and spices. It lulls... you... away, away to some other place where you just. don't. care....and then.... its violence rips you out of that world with a flavor so herbal and green that it wipes you of everything you'd ever felt before. Then it's gone. Leaving you confused but intoxicated by the memory alone. You thought you knew what you were doing. But no, you were wrong; quite wrong. But it knew. It knew. Cocktails, like music and all the experiences of life, have a certain harmony to them. We learn through failure and ecstasy that there are....rules, if you will... that serve, by and large, to protect us from the discordant notes of the less pleasant experiences. There are things that should be done, and those that should not. But as in life those rules are somewhat...conservative, sometimes just a little too safe. Breaking them in just the right circumstances can be something of revelatory experience. And so it is with The Widow's Kiss. It is the breaking of all the rules. One powerful spirit with two incredibly sweet and complex liqueurs and a dash of bitters. You just don't do that. The base is Calvados -- that rare, ancient, and rather wild apple brandy of Normandy, which achieves such character as it rests in barrels of beautiful Limousin oak. The two liqueurs are added. The first, Benedictine, the slightly herbal and very spicy liqueur of the Benedictine monks. It was developed in the 16th Century and every bottle is consecrated to "Deo Optimo Maximo" -- the best and greatest God. To taste Benedictine is to know that the monks are, indeed, doing God's work. Monks of the Carpathian order provide the second liqueur: Yellow Chartreuse. Yellow Chartreuse, apart from being incredibly sweet is violently vegetal -- the only more herbal liqueur is it's older companion Green Chartreuse (for which the color was named). To mix it with Benedctine is to me almost unthinkable-- the spiciness and warmth of Benedictine meeting the herbal, and cold vegetal edge of Chartreuse. But it doesn't stop there, no, several drops of bitters are the final touch. Bitters are an incredibly important component of any drink that calls for them, and here they add that warmth and cinnamon to the apple of the Calvados. I'd never mix these together. Calvados is too subtle and too fruity for the two liqueurs, and the liqueurs themselves are too complex, too sweet, and far too forthright to work together. And yet. Sometimes... the rules are wrong. I recommend that you never, ever try the Widow's Kiss, but I hope that you do.
I've had it just once a while ago and rememberred liking it. That it "shouldn't" work seems the only logical assumption though, I agree. Guess I'll skip on the yellow then for now and maybe get the 1605 or M.O.F. Cuvée instead.
Had a Ramos Fizz today. And tried the Cruzan Black Strap in a Dark & Stormy. Sadly, it doesn't work for me. I hate the liquorice/malt notes it adds to the drink. Will have to stick with Gosling's.
Yesterday, Ranglum and The Last Word. And a few longdrinks.