Where Georgia Georgakopoulou grew up in the mountainous region of Arcadia in Greece, she was surrounded by plum, pomegranate, pear and apple trees. In primary school, she would stamp on the grapes from the local vineyards to be turned into wine. Her family grew their own vegetables; and of course, they had olive trees. It rained – a lot – and the culture is still based on traditions that far outlive the advent of technology, all the way back to ancient times. Now, the bar manager of Athens’ The Clumsies brings these memories to her work: “My story before the industry is important to me – I haven’t let go or forgotten it.”

The smells and tastes of our lives play an intrinsic role in how we frame and describe ingredients. As bartenders who work in a global industry, showcasing flavours to guests in their bar from all over the world (and often traversing it in order to do so) how they present these flavours through drinks is a multi-layered, nuanced and complex challenge.

It is often tackled by using what are usually considered to be universal descriptors – floral, vegetal, tropical, for example. But how do the meanings of these words change based on our sense memories? “Describing drinks or writing a menu is so hard as you have to think behind the words – you have to think about the human beings that are your guests,” explains Georgakopoulou. “Depending on how we live and where we live, you have to go a step further.”

Sense, place, language

“I’ve lived a dual life, culture-wise,” says Hardeep Rehal, owner of Blume bar in Copenhagen and founder of Cocktail Solutions, collaborating with the likes of chefs, distillers and brewers to create custom cocktails, menus, products and events. He was born in the UK, moved to Denmark at a young age and grew up in an Indian home. “I’ve been exposed to two very different worlds – our relation to what food is and what taste is are two very different approaches… It’s been a very anthropological and interesting journey for me.”

Of his approach to learning more about Nordic ingredients, Rehal describes it as akin to learning a new language. “In the Nordics we have limited synonyms; if you go to India, for anything sensorial, language has a massive role to play,” he goes on to explain. “By explaining everything in English, we have to find this middle ground… Everything is essentially a story.”

Christina Veira, co-owner of Bar Mordecai in Toronto, also has a rich experience to pull from when it comes to her sensory memory. Her parents, both Jamaican, emigrated to Canada in the 1960s/70s, and while she grew up in a Caribbean household, the diversity surrounding her in Toronto saw her grow up with a multicultural experience (70% of people in her suburb hadn’t been born in Canada).

Looking locally, a lot of exotic flavours – mangoes and kiwis for example – are known more artificially, so Veira works more with layering fresh ingredients with barks, herbs and spices (taking the skills she learned growing up of cooking and baking) in order to create more of a mosaic of flavours, rather than showcasing one single ingredient.

Growing up in southern California, and with an Indigenous background, bartender-turned-writer and activist Chockie Tom has a vast pool of influences when it comes to her relationships with flavours, from Korean and Filipino, to Armenian and Mexican. “For me, growing up in that part of the world, with so many different types of flavour profiles and cuisines to pick from, has given me kind of an amazing reference point.”

For Tom, the concept of ‘land stewardship’ – where everything from the food you grow up with, to the house you build, and the land you live on is all interconnected – has been an important reference point for her explaining flavours.

So, how do the tastes and smells we are most familiar with impact how we describe flavour? We asked our four experts to explain what they associate with five different descriptors.

Floral

Perhaps one of the most used flavour descriptors used universally across cocktail menus, ‘floral’ is one of the more unifying of the terms presented to our four experts when it comes to ingredient associations. Georgakopoulou’s memory plays a large role in her interpretation: “The first thing that comes to mind from my childhood are roses and jasmine… Growing up we had rose geranium, and in spring really intense aromas of orange blossom.”

For Rehal, ‘floral’ isn’t just associated with flavour – in the Nordics we’re talking geranium, rosehip, jasmine, lavender – but also the style of the drink. “You can find floral notes in heavy drinks, but I’d expect it to be very bright and light, maybe in a highball, or a coupe – there are also floral notes in Champagne, and sparkling things.”

Veira takes a similar approach: “Sometimes ‘floral’ is almost more a perception of body or flavour intensity, so when I use ‘floral’ it won’t be a flavour bomb, it will be elegant.” She does tend to shy away from it as a descriptor though as flavours guests associate with it – violet, lavender – often don’t coincide with the ingredients Veira tends to lean towards – hibiscus, orange blossom, rose water.

Tom also adds another less obvious ingredient to the conversation – toasted coconut: “There’s something floral about that.”

She also points out that sometimes what’s associated with ‘floral’ in certain countries isn’t always the most accurate when it comes to that ingredient’s heritage. “You also have to take into account that people have moved places and brought things from different parts of the world; they bring in their outside ingredients, so that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s even accurate.”

Vegetal

As more and more bars lean towards savoury serves, the term ‘vegetal’ also becomes more widespread – but it isn’t always associated with just vegetables. “‘Vegetal’ would be where I’m thinking probably something greener – pepper, tomatoes, spinach, kale, could be onions,” says Veira, but she also sees fruits like gooseberries and herbs as ingredients that could be classed in the ‘vegetal’ camp.

Over in Greece and Georgakopoulou explains how, while more obvious things like cucumber, bell pepper, Greek olives and tomatoes are used in a lot of drinks, less likely flavours such as zucchini (courgette), potato skin and sweet potato might also be used in vegetal drinks.

Rehal’s approach looks more at different stages of ingredients when it comes to ascertaining whether something is ‘vegetal’: “It could be something floral that has shifted, been cooked, turned brown or matured,” he explains. “The same thing that is floral in spring can be vegetal in autumn… It depends on its ripeness – it could be super floral and crisp at the beginning, but if you let it sit it can become more vegetal. It depends on where it is in its cycle.”

Forest

‘Forest’ is the descriptor that our experts all agree hugely depends on where you are when it comes to the flavours it’s associated with. “The forests that I would have in California, where my people come from, are going to be very different from the forests in Canada, or a rainforest in South America,” explains Tom.

Pine, birch, moss, wild herbs, nettles and dandelions all come to mind for Rehal when he thinks about Nordic forests; yet someone more familiar with the rainforest would cite completely different ingredients. While ‘forest’ might give you more of a mood of a drink, he says, its vastness in meaning makes it far less precise than, say, ‘floral’.

“Mushroom and dirt and all of that damp mulch – wet and lush,” says Veira.

Mineral

Undoubtedly the most divisive for Tom, Veira, Georgakopoulou and Rehal is ‘mineral’ – a word you hear more when describing wine rather than cocktails, but one which conjures a vast and complex range of associations.

“I have a strong opinion on ‘mineral’,” says Rehal. “There are controversies around minerality scientifically as it isn’t something you can taste on its own, but we can perceive a mouthfeel… I would see minerality if you’re new to it as salty, but also dry, associated with calcium which exists in egg and oyster shells (calcium has a drying effect on your mouth) … It would lead me to chalk and also stones – limestone, rocks, asphalt.”

Veira doesn’t use it much to describe cocktails either, but likens it to “salinity but with a much lower threshold, a lighter version of herbaciousness”.

For Tom, it all starts with water: “Being a fan of sparkling water, I’m interested in the differences between, like, Topo Chico and Scottish mineral water. Again, it’s tied into the land and what might be a mineral for me in Nevada would be different from somewhere in the UK.”

Maritime

Finally, ‘maritime’ is arguably the most unifying of the descriptors. “It’s probably the only one that’s the easiest to communicate,” says Tom, “because you’re going to get salinity and seaweed; you’re going get like that fresh, kind of like, sea air.”

These are indeed the common themes that spring to mind for our experts. In Greece, Georgakopoulou speaks of saltiness, seaweed, and the texture of eating mussels when it comes to ‘maritime’.

Rehal’s first thoughts also lean towards sea-related things (including seaweed and sea herbs), but specifically seafood-related ingredients like oyster shell and oyster powder. ‘Maritime’ also means texture: “I would work with saline and saltiness which does effect mouthfeel.”

Veira has a slightly different take on it, looking more at ingredients more directly related to rainy, coast-line ingredients, like fish, potatoes, and something smoky.

The post Describe this flavour appeared first on Campari Academy.

Korean drinking tradition is dominated by a term that comprises the impressively wide variety of local products, whether fermented or distilled: sool. Etymologically, it derives from the terms ‘soo’ (‘water’) and ‘bool’ (‘fire’), referring to how traditional Korean generations would describe the effect of fermentation. 

Sool is based on a very simple mix of water, rice and ‘nuruk’; the latter being the most used fermentation starter in Korea, first implemented in the third century. It’s a disc made of moistened wheat, rice, or barley, dried in a heated room (‘odol’) until it starts to generate mold. Recipes used to make sool today have little to no differences from the ones implemented 1,700 years ago, showcasing how deeply sool consumption is rooted in the country’s history and tradition.  

“Sool have one for any style and any personality,” comments sool sommelier Dustin Wessa, owner of Namsan Sool Club in Seoul. “Once you try it, the chase for the perfect one begins.” A staple in Korean culture, sool plays a key role in the local social fabric, being a pivotal element in celebratory gatherings (such as public holidays, commemorations, ceremonies), as well as in daily life. Drinking is recognised as an important social lubricant, and sharing drinks with colleagues and employers is a well-established habit to strengthen personal bonds.  

Hundreds of products are available under the sool category: here are a selection for you to begin with to sample some authentic Korean liquid history. 

Makgeolli 

One of the oldest alcoholic beverages known to be created in Korea, makgeolli is named after the combination of the Korean words ‘mak’ (‘just now’) and ‘geolleun’ (‘filtered’). Despite being seen as a cheap product for decades, makgeolli has recently been on the rise both in quality and availability, thanks to younger generations of brewers, and it is today one of the most loved and consumed sools.  

Rice, yeast and water are left to ferment in clay pots, for a variable amount of time (usually around three weeks); this creates ‘won-ju’, a rice-based generic beverage. Within this, the rice sediment (‘tak-ju’) settles, and a lighter, clearer layer forms on top of it: it’s the ‘cheong-ju’, which is also sometimes distilled to make ‘soju’ (see below). When tak-ju is diluted, it yields the makgeolli.  

Given its low-class origins, Wessa explains how a lot of the farm-working class were paid in makgeolli from the aristocracy. Depending on the grain it is made of and the technique, makgeolli can express various flavour notes, all of them gathering very interesting nuances: rich and creamy, sour or sweeter, plain or carbonated. 

Cheong-ju 

Following the aforementioned process, cheong-ju can be produced too: it’s a refined rice wine, often made with the addition of other grains (barley in particular) to add depth and flavour, and spices such as cinnamon or ginger.  

After the fermentation, the whole product is filtered and smoothed out: “Unlike the murky makgeolli, cheong-ju goes through an additional filtering process, resulting in a cleaner taste,” adds Pat Park, owner and bartender at Pine&Co in Seoul. “As I entered my thirties, I found myself seeking out cheong-ju more often due to its crisp flavor.”  

Once a treat reserved for royal bloodlines, it is today largely consumed during meals, and works wonders as a cooking ingredient in marinades or condiments. It tends to be more dynamic than the other products, with a higher abv and a more defined character, and some varieties are very viscous and juicy. “Cheong-ju pairs exceptionally well with seafood, so I highly recommend trying it with Korean-style sashimi,” suggests Park. 

Soju 

The Korean national beverage, and the best-selling spirit in the world (a soju brand borders 65 million cases sold per year), soju is a distilled liqueur, ranging from 20-25% abv, mostly consumed paired with food.  

It was introduced by the Mongolians during the 13th century: “They had arak, and taught Koreans how to make it,” recounts Hwi Yun, bar manager at Bar Cham in Seoul. Originally made from fermented rice, it witnessed dramatic change in the midst of the 20^th century: as rice was too precious of a resource to feed the population during the Korean War, soju began being distilled from other grains such as wheat, potato and barley. 

Literally meaning ‘alcohol with fire’, due to its link with distillation, soju can be enjoyed in two ways: “Traditional soju is distilled using clay pot stills,” Yun explains. “But most Koreans drink diluted soju, the so-called green bottle soju. It is a base of neutral spirit with added sweetener, and can originate from potato, tapioca and so on, distilled up to 95% abv. Soju companies buy the spirit from designated neutral spirit companies and dilute it down by 16-21%, depending on their target. We call these alcohols soju but ingredient, method and taste are completely different from one another.”  

Julia Mellor, founder of The Sool Company, expands on the two categories of the spirit: table-strength soju and spirit-strength soju. “Table strength is anything below 25% abv, and is often designed to be enjoyed with food. Whereas spirit strength soju is complex and distinct in flavour, with a diversity of aroma profiles. The concept of high-proof soju is still finding its feet in Korea, and we are working to promote it internationally to discover its yet-unlocked potential in the cocktail market.”  

Soju’s aromatic sip is also the protagonist of one of the most beloved drinks in the country: ‘somac’, also known as a soju-bomb, in which a shot of the spirit is sunk in a local lager.  

Bokbunja-ju 

‘Rubus coreanus’ is the scientific name for the bokbunja, a Korean native blackberry, known to the indigenous population for at least one millennium, and heralded for its health properties (high in vitamins and calcium, and very commonly consumed due to its supposed aphrodisiac qualities).  

It was traditionally infused in a neutral spirit (often soju) and combined with sugar, to create a liqueur called bokbunja-ju; recent versions use the same name for an actual fruit wine, obtained by fermenting the berry with yeast. Flavour notes vary accordingly: “It is not as widely consumed as other sool giants such as soju or makgeolli,” Mellor comments, “but it is often an alternative at the dinner table for those who don’t like either.” The flavour profile of bokbunja, she says, is often sweet, earthy, with a heavy body, and has an abv usually between 14% and 19%. It also tends to be less acidic and sweeter compared to the varieties commonly found elsewhere, yelding a rounder product. 

Alongside the better known sools Korea is fond of, you could find a series of lesser-known alternatives that will conquer your palate and interest nonetheless.  

Gwaha-ju 

Literally translated as ‘summer passing alcohol’, gwaha-ju is Korea’s answer to port wine, according to Mellor. “As sool brewing was traditionally something done on a smaller scale in the home, recipes and styles were often developed to reflect the seasons. In the summer, Korea is hot and humid, which does not lend to optimal brewing conditions. As such it was a time for fermenting nuruk, and also the compounded alcohol gwaha-ju: it is made by adding high proof soju to the mash early in fermentation in order to protect it from failure due to high temperatures.” The result is a stronger and sweeter alcohol, which can be enjoyed cloudy like tak-ju or can also be clarified and drunk as a clear cheong-ju, Mellor explains.  

It’s also a relatively rare expression of sool to keep your eyes peeled for while in Korea. “This category was all but lost in the modern sool industry, and even today there are very few producers of gwaha-ju due to the aging time, effort and cost to produce. However, it is one of the most richly flavoured and aromatic sool experiences to be had, and if you find yourself in Korea, don’t miss it!” 

Sogok-ju  

According to Wessa, there are 62 breweries still operating in Korea, all of them being 500 years old and still producing sogok-ju house to house: “There are quite intense rivalries between families,” Wessa recounts. Rice, water and nuruk constitute this traditional drink, but other ingredients like ginger. chili peppers, and angelica roots can also be added. “Every sogok-ju is a signature product for each brewer. In terms of minerals and umami, which are key aspects of sools, this is one of the most perfect expressions.” 

Sungnyung 

This non-alcoholic drink closes our list, and it’s an interesting one in terms of traditions and renewed popularity. With its first known trace being found before 1400, sungnyung has kept its original, homemade nature intact: it is made by pouring warm water onto the layer of grains that sticks to the bottom of a pan after cooking rice. The infusion gathers the rice flavour, and is then served as an after-meal drink, to aid digestion.  

The post Flavour of: Seoul – Sool  appeared first on Campari Academy.

Taiwanese tea culture is rooted in the island’s history and local tea has reached worldwide appreciation thanks to its versatility and unique flavours. Tea cultivation in Taiwan dates back centuries, with the local climate and terrain providing the ideal conditions for growing the plant: 268 mountains are spread across Taiwan, adding up to nearly 1,000 hectares of tea plantations.

As Tei by Obond founder Tom Liu shares, the earliest recorded documentation of Taiwan’s native tea trees can be found in the Dutch Zhuluo County Chronicle (1645). Tea trees and techniques were introduced to Taiwan from China: Fujian native Ke Chao brought Wuyi Mountain tea trees to Jieyukeng in 1796; 70 years later, a scholar from Linfeng Pond in Lugu Township introduced Fujian Qingxin Oolong; while in 1875, Zhang Naimiao and Zhang Naigan introduced Fujian Anxi Tie Guan Yin.

“The development of the Taiwanese tea industry initially began as a transit trade during the Dutch colonial period,” explains Liu. “It later evolved into commercial tea production for domestic consumption and export. The formal record of Taiwan’s tea export dates back to 1864, and during the Qing Dynasty in 1872, Taiwan’s tea industry entered its golden age. Subsequently, during the Japanese colonial period, tea factories flourished, and tea processing techniques improved significantly, leading to prosperous tea exports.”

Oolong tea was the earliest type of tea produced in Taiwan, which is today home to several different varieties. Local culture places great emphasis on the art of tea preparation and appreciation, with ceremonies, known as ‘gongfu cha’ conducted with meticulous attention to detail. The process involves carefully selecting the tea leaves, controlling water temperature, and skillfully pouring and serving the tea to enhance its flavours and aromas.

“The large-leaf variety is suitable for producing black tea,” Liu advises, “while the small-leaf variety is suitable for producing green tea, Baozhong tea, and oolong tea. The suitability of each variety for tea production is determined by the content of polyphenols in the leaves.” Taiwan’s tea varieties are improved and cultivated through the Council of Agriculture’s Tea Research and Extension Station. Here are five Taiwanese tea varieties for you to dive in to.

Green tea

Green tea has seen its cultivation establish and grow in Taiwan since the mid-18th century, when Fujianese settlers brought tea plants and their expertise to the island. However, it was not until the 20th century that the production of green tea gained prominence in Taiwan, evolving on the techniques and processes that were inherited during the Japanese colonial rule (1895-1945), and eventually climbing to new heights of quality in terms of both plants and the final product.

Mellow and pleasant in its finish, green tea is the variety that undergoes the shortest period of oxidation (two-three hours), contributing to its softness and round character. Leaves are harvested and then quickly pan-fried, retaining their green colour and producing a more delicate flavour compared to black tea, and it also contains less caffeine. Due to its lighter profile, it has also historically been consumed with milk or sugar at different latitudes, something quite rare to see with stronger varieties of tea.

White tea

White tea production in Taiwan has a relatively short but significant history. It began in the early 20th century when Taiwanese tea farmers, influenced by Chinese tea traditions, ventured into crafting white teas, whilst initially their focus was on oolong and green varieties. However, as demand for white tea grew, farmers started experimenting with its production methods.

It is the least processed variety so far and originates from young tea leaves and buds that are minimally oxidised. The leaves are simply withered and dried, often using natural sunlight or low-temperature methods: this helps to reduce any kind of impact on the flavour profile, which results in a delicate, subtle aroma, and a very low caffeine content. White tea’s refreshing qualities are also enriched by an extremely high content of antioxidants.

Oolong tea

‘The Black Dragon’, as the name translates from Chinese, references the dark, twisted appearance of the leaves of this Taiwanese tea. Oolong falls somewhere between green tea and black tea, as its leaves are partially fermented and oxidised, and owes its fame to its unique processing method and complex flavour profile.

To produce oolong tea, the leaves are dried in the sun, allowing them to lose some of their moisture, and then withered indoors. Then, they are shaken or tossed in baskets to bruise their edges and initiate the oxidation process, which is then suddenly halted by pan-frying or baking the leaves. They are then rolled or twisted, shaping them into the characteristic long, curly or ball-like forms.

Considered as probably the favourite amongst oolong teas is Oriental Beauty, also known as Bai Hao Oolong or Dongfang Meiren: as the tea leaves are nibbled by small insects called tea jassid, the plant responds by releasing natural compounds that give rise to an array of shades, ranging from silver and white to dark brown. The infusion yields a rich, honey-like aroma, complemented by notes of ripe fruits, with a smooth, velvety texture and a lingering, sweet aftertaste.

Within the oolong category, another very peculiar branch stands out, as Henrietta Lovell, founder and CEO at Rare Tea Company underlines: Milk Oolong. “This unique Taiwanese oolong comes from a rare varietal that is renowned for its creamy softness and milky aromas, hence the name. I source mine, The Golden Lily Milk Oolong, direct from the rolling mountains of Taitung province, southern Taiwan.”

Her book, Infused: Adventures in Tea, describes a particularly visceral visit: ‘The temperature was up in the 40s and my shirt felt like a fur coat. Wei, the young farmer, tall, bashful, and funny, showed me around. Over long afternoons I spent hours on the farm watching the production. Blunt fingered experts bound and unbound the leaves in muslin cloths; twisted them into tight bundles; pressed them between rolling iron plates; untwisted the cloth and released the leaves into drying machines; transferred the leaves to roasters; laid them out to dry; bound them again; rolled them; roasted them; exposed them, in an intricate dance that seemed to have no formal pattern.

The precise semi-oxidisation of the leaf, to reveal its most subtle, nuanced flavours was all done by smell and touch and feel. There was no measurement or timing, instead, the craft was instinctive understanding. Sometimes the tea went into the roasters for 20 seconds, sometimes 2 minutes. Sometimes the tea was laid out for days and sometimes for hours. This was Pharaoh Sander’s playing intricately glorious free jazz, rather than The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra playing from sheet music.”

Black tea

As legendary Taiwanese bartender Aki Wang puts it, “Black tea is where everyone should start from, to know more about tea.” Taiwanese black tea production began entering the 20th century when the Taiwanese government introduced assam tea cultivars from India. These cultivars were successfully adapted to the Taiwanese climate and soil, resulting in the development of high-quality black teas. Today, the most well-known black tea producing regions in Taiwan include Sun Moon Lake in Nantou County and Yuchi Township in the same region.

Contributing to the exceptional quality of Taiwanese black tea is its cultivation in high-elevation regions, a characteristic that grants it a sort of separate category (High Mountain Tea). The tea plants thrive in the cool mountainous areas, benefiting from the misty climate and fertile soil. The combination of high altitude, ample rainfall, and optimal temperature fluctuations adds complexity to the tea’s flavour, enhancing its aromatic profile and overall quality.

The black tea variety is fully fermented and oxidised, which gives it a dark colour and robust flavour. Taiwanese black tea offers a delightful flavour profile that sets it apart from other black teas. The infusion yields a reddish-brown liquor with a rich, malty aroma. The taste is smooth and mellow, with notes of caramel, honey, and dried fruit, with a robust character never overly astringent, that provides a balanced and satisfying experience.

Dark tea

Of all the tea varieties Taiwan offers, dark tea is the most intense and impactful, due to its production process. Leaves are harvested, pan-fried and then rolled, before being left to dry and allow for oxidation to kick in.

No interference occurs with the process, so that after 24-72 hours, and a particular amount of time dedicated to post-fermentation, dark tea reaches 100% oxidation. The result is an extremely rich and powerful taste, that still retains some floral and fruity notes to go with a very strong body.

The post Flavour of: Taipei – Tea  appeared first on Campari Academy.

One single tour of Bangkok’s intensely crowded streets, or a night walk through the web of alleys that vibrate with energy in the Thai capital city, and you’ll be hit by it: the aromatic power of local ingredients. Herbs and spices are showcased in street markets (even floating ones!) or directly implemented in delicious, traditional recipes. Thai food culture is soaked in flavour, and a key role is played by this specific, and extremely rich, category.  

Aromatic herbs and spices are the essence of historical recipes that come to life thanks to these roots, plants, powders, barks and seeds. Showcasing a remarkably wide range of nuances, from the fresh, zesty bite of lemongrass all the way to the warmth provided by chilli, Thai spices and herbs will surely grant you a memorable tasting experience. 

And it is not just about the flavours: Thai ingredients are strongly connected to the deep spiritual identity the nation has. “Every country has some characteristics that seem to shine in every aspect,” Bangkok resident chef David Thompson, owner of the Michelin starred Aksorn, recounts. “Here it’s food. Stomach and soul are the two things Thais attend with equal diligence. The markets are clean, the monks are a substantial presence in the country, and this is not casual. Food is a way to improve in life, both physically and psychologically: here, it is a staple to a degree people don’t understand.”  

For a dive into Thai flavour heritage, here are five aromatic herbs and spices you absolutely should try. 

Galangal 

Closely related to (and resembling) ginger, galangal comes from the same botanical family. Its root is known to have been used since ancient times, mostly for healing purposes. As Niks Anuman-Rajadhon, owner of Bangkok’s drinking establishments like Teens of Thailand, Tax Bar, Asia Today and Independence, says: “In old medicinal world, it was considered the fire element, hence it should pair with cool flavors such as chrysanthemum, bael fruit or pandan.”  

Wonderfully dense in its aroma, galangal provides freshness and a lemony hint, together with an interesting flavour evolution: hot at the first bite, it develops into a more bitter taste. For this reason, it works brilliantly with sweet ingredients, both in drinks and dishes.  

Makrut lime  

Makrut is a prodigious citrus that hides a boatload of flavour, both inside and out. Its rugged skin releases an explosive, zingy aroma, with intense notes of green that bring bergamot to mind. “The juice is a bit sweeter and somehow soapy compared to regular lime,” Thompson explains, “with creamier hints from the skin.”  

Essential oil from the zest will release some powerful, tangy and colourful notes, and do not forget the leaves, as Anuman- Rajadhon points out: “If you burn or torch them, you will get a coconut organoleptic profile. Amazing stuff.”  

Lemongrass  

“The Western approach is more rational, whilst Thai is more instinctual. Traditional Thai cooking is like jazz,” Thompson states. And very few other ingredients could explain this statement than Thai lemongrass: zesty, fresh, far from the woody sensation given by the varieties that can be found in Europe. Deeply rooted in local tradition, lemongrass is a staple in the national food and drink culture with a floral profile that showcases “the floral-ness of the citrus notes, with an intense natural Asian light piney perfume,” Anuman- Rajadhon describes.  

With its piercing aroma and layered taste, lemongrass can qualify as the most distinctive, long-lasting flavor you could ever find in Thailand. 

Chilli  

There are tens of different species of chilli used in Thailand gastronomy, each of them expressing its proper flavour profile. According to Anuman- Rajadhon, the chilli padi is probably the most famous, used by many Thais fresh in their fish sauce.  

“It bursts through with burnt flavours until your mind will guide you to find more nuances in its heat,” he explains. Heat is what causes the warmth, and from that comes the lightly smoky note that characterises this variety, which stays sharp and vivid compared to other ones. Karen chili, for example, is much heavier on the smoke, “and it burns hard”, Anuman notes. “Its most popular use is in the dried version, but please remember to wash your hands after sprinkling it.” 

Turmeric 

Another sibling belonging to the ginger family (though the orange version happens to be earthier, says Thompson), turmeric is impossible to get confused with anything else. It’s an authentic, ultimate example of what some ‘eastern aroma’ could be, as Anuman points out: very distinctive in its lightly peppery, musky-wood fragrance, it is perfect as a base for soups or part of a pressed juice. “My all-time favorite is chicken with turmeric soup: you just smash the turmeric with a mortar and throw it in,” though beware of the lingering effect it can have on your fingers.  

The post Flavour of: Bangkok – Aromatic herbs and spices  appeared first on Campari Academy.

1. Inspiration is all around us 

Our senses are powerful: they’re constantly working and most of the time we don’t really realise just how much information we get from everyday activities. This is why I try to get inspiration from anywhere I go, regardless of what I’m doing: it’s not just what I taste, maybe it’s something I smell, or even something I see – I then try to use it in my cocktails.  

2. Fermentation is your friend 

Fermentation is a major protagonist when it comes to the senses. Not only does it create unique flavours; it also generates tastes that make your palate evolve, once you try them. Fermentation expands your mind too: it allows for lots of room for experimentation, something I am very interested in as a professional and as a person.  

3. Flavours can tell stories 

At Bar Cham, we dedicate a sensible amount of time to research when we work on new drinks or cocktail lists. Our goal is to tell our stories, be they related to our personalities or the environment we are in. The flavours we implement come from local ingredients, and this allows us to showcase our heritage: it means that the guests’ senses will be in touch with our traditions and our work.  

4. People make flavours  

The Korean gastronomic scene is very rich in flavours and aromas. Our philosophy of work implies not having any boundaries between food and cocktails, and this broadens the spectrum of the ways a guest’s senses can be stimulated. This also allows us to understand how everybody’s senses are, in fact, connected: we have solid collaborations between chefs, bartenders, pastry chefs, tea houses, coffee roasters, farmers, and so on. It means that each and every professional involved uses their senses to provide the best product possible, in order for the guest to have the best sensorial experience of their own. 

5. Sweetness is not so simple 

Sweetness needs to be re-evaluated. So many of our guests come to the bar saying they don’t like it, so we must work to make sure we’re giving them as pleasurable an experience as we can based on their tastes. On the other hand, balance is always the key, so they have to concede room for some sweetness, and we have to be able to add it without it being overwhelming. Sugar, generally, is one of the most underrated ingredients. 

6. No sense is to be left behind 

When I think about creating a new cocktail, my goal is to create a drink that a guest can explore on a variety of levels. I look for flavours that put senses together and go far beyond mere smell and taste. For example: one cocktail is served with music, another has a different style of garnish to bring flavour as well as two different textures. 

7. It’s much more than what we think 

Senses are not to be thought of as just the five related to our body. The way someone perceives flavour is strongly influenced by a number of surrounding factors, that have nothing to do with our organs. Personal mood, the location’s atmosphere, recent experiences: these all play a role in how a drink is perceived – and this is true for both a guest and a bartender. You might try the same drink, with the exact same recipe, in two different places, and it might taste completely different.  

The post 7 ways Hwi Yun thinks about flavour  appeared first on Campari Academy.

A rainbow of flavours and aromas, hidden within rough skins or juicy pulps: Singapore’s tropical fruits cannot be missed when travelling to Southeast Asia. They grow most prolifically in hot and humid regions within the Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn (hence their name). Though the term accounts for a vast amount of varieties of fruits, all of them are linked by the common thread of powerful tastes and nuances rarely found in any other food category.  

Singapore, one of the four Asian Tigers, is globally renowned as one of the financial capitals of the world. Its modern, fast-paced essence is balanced by the authenticity one can easily spot in local food and drinks, and traditional tropical fruits are among the treats you should never miss when visiting the Little Red Dot. Despite being available all over the world, these colourful and rich fruits are considered to be the backbone of the equatorial traditions. 

Whether walking around the marina, getting lost in the magnetic Chinatown, and experiencing the energy of its Hawker Centres: anywhere you decide to go, you’ll find an opportunity to sample unparalleled flavours in unique fruits. Here are five varieties of tropical fruit definitely worth trying while in Singapore. 

Durian 

Durian – probably the most polarising fruit to ever be tasted. Within a spiky shell lies a strikingly intense contrast: a piercing, unappealing aroma on the nose, but a custardy taste on the palate. It’s one of Singapore’s iconic food references (curiously enough, Singapore’s Esplanade theatre looks like a durian), and drives quite a discussion among consumers. It’s also often referred to as ‘hot food’: eating a substantial amount of durian will indeed drive your temperature up.  

Though very prone to be implemented in drinks or dishes, durian’s purity is best experienced when consumed as it is, as bar consultant and bartender Jess Hutchinson shares:P “I prefer durian on its own for it to keep its nuances. Varieties with gooey flesh are better, as the seeds can be removed easily.” And keep in mind the seasonality: the best durian can usually be found towards the end of the year. 

Mangosteen 

Not related to mango in any way, mangosteen is the ‘Queen of Fruits’ according to Nutmeg & Clove’s group operations manager, Sze Wei Sim. Opposite to durian, eating mangosteen will allow your body to cool down, due to its freshness and clean profile. Round, quite small in size and shiny in its purple skin, (“forbidden in most hotels around the world as it will create an unremovable stain in fabrics,” says Sim), mangosteen’s white pulp is a flavour triumph, being easy on the palate, extremely rich in taste and jammed with polyphenols and fibres.  

However, it’s a challenging ingredient for bartenders, says Sim. “It’s a really expensive and tough fruit to use in cocktails, as the yield is usually really low, but if you could get the puree, it will be great in a slushy with amazing sweet and sour balance while providing a smooth velvety texture.” Sim shares a fun fact too: the bottom knob of the fruit will tell you how many pieces of pulp there are inside the shell. 

Calamansi lime 

Tiny, yet incredibly rich in content, the calamansi is a variety of Asian lime. This pebble-sized citrus is a wonderful flavour for bartenders to experiment with. A staple in Southeast Asia, and a hybrid between kumquats and mandarin oranges, it comes with the traditional green-striped peel, packed with tartness and aromatic hints, yet slightly sweeter if compared to regular limes. It is also softer to the touch, making it easier to squeeze with your bare hands.  

Given its refreshing notes it can easily be found in classic local food recipes, usually used to counter the richness of traditional soups or stir fry; it is also made into jams or marmalades. Hutchinson recalls her former business partner Juan Yi Jun using it in one of the absolute best-sellers at Singapore’s No Sleep Club: the Three Limes Vodka Soda. “It would be featured together with regular lime and Thai lime, hence combining different levels of acidity to boost the overall taste of the drink. We literally had to take it off the menu, as we could not keep up with the demand.” 

Rambutan 

Very bright and pleasing in its red hue, the rambutan’s appearance is undoubtably made harsher by its hairy shell (the Malaysian word ‘rambout’ actually translates to ‘hair’), making it resemble a sea urchin. But within it lies a fragrant, juicy fruit, gladly enjoyable on its own, that reveals interesting floral notes. 

Sim suggests trying the canned version too, “as the skin of the seed tends to stick to the delicious flesh, and the fresh ones’ flavour tends to be milder”. It grows in bunches on the trees of the same name, perfectly balanced between sweet and acidic, soaked in manganese and potassium to aid digestion and the immune system. Rambutan can also be a very interesting alternative as an ingredient in cocktails – try swapping it with the very similar lychee to make a rambutan Martini, Sim hints. 

Longan 

A close relative to lychees and rambutans, longan has been a consistent presence in Southeast Asia’s tradition, both as a food and a remedy. Its powdered seeds are considered miraculous against skin issues, while its flesh is a notorious anti-anxiety remedy. With its tough skin resembling bark, and sweet and rich with a somehow magnetic tartness in the aftertaste, longan is a cornerstone in local cuisine, being served as dessert or even in soups to add sweetness.  

A sweet crunchy fruit with a large seed hidden in the brown outer shell, it packs flavour in many of its parts. Sim has a suggestion for bartenders wanting to work with it: “Burning the dried longan with its shell in a cocktail brings a really delicious, sweet aroma.” 

The post Flavour of: Singapore – Tropical fruits  appeared first on Campari Academy.

Understanding flavour starts with understanding the senses: from what they are and how they work; to why they are so important when creating delicious drinks (or anything for that matter), and, of course, what we can do to fully take advantage of each sense to create better guest experiences.  

So, what are the senses? The most obvious one we use when consuming food or drink, is our sense of taste, which is basically anything that can be detected by our tongue. We categorise it by our five basic tastes (although it is widely accepted that there are more than just five): sweet, sour, salt, bitter and umami.  

For a drink to be great, there needs to be a balance between these, but surprising to many (!) is that for a drink to be delicious, it needs more than just balance – it also need flavour.  

Exploring the senses 

Despite common belief, around 70-80% of flavour comes from what we smell as opposed to what we taste. We separate ‘smells’ into two categories: aromas or smells picked up by the nose (orthonasal olfaction), and aromas picked up by the nose via our mouth (retronasal olfaction). It’s the last one which will influence how we experience flavour, and it is during exhalation that the olfaction contribution to flavour occurs, in contrast to that of smelling something, which occurs during the inhalation phase.  

“Understanding flavour starts with understanding the senses.”

Our sense of touch can also impact the drinking experience in many ways, both directly and indirectly: directly through elements like texture, temperature, and mouthfeel; and indirectly by choice of glassware, what type of material your bar top is made of, or how comfortable your chairs are. Together with our sense of taste and smell, touch makes up our three contact senses, whilst our last two – sight and sound – both work from a distance, but are equally important.  

Less obvious players 

Our sense of sight could be described as ‘the dictator’. It is the sense that will influence us the most when trying to figure out what we are tasting, but also when deciding if we like it. If it doesn’t look good, we are likely to not try it at all, but research has also shown that if it does indeed look good, we are more likely to think it will also taste good – even if it doesn’t. 

“When making drinks a lot can be revealed just by sound.”

Sound plays such a significant role in our work, but we often forget how vital it is. We think of it as instinct or second nature, whilst in reality, our hearing guides us, being so fine-tuned that we can even hear the difference between cold or warm coffee being poured into a mug. Chefs rely on their sense of sounds to tell if a steak is searing right, or chips are frying correctly –  and the same goes for bartenders.  

When making drinks a lot can be revealed just by sound: when shaking, the sound will change slightly as the drink’s temperature declines, and by listening to the shaker, you will know when the drink is ready. If you try to stir a cocktail without using enough ice, you can hear the (sad) sound of the ice cubes hitting the inside wall of the mixing glass.  

Put into practice 

In the past decades, there has been much research done in the field of experimental psychology and gastronomy – gastrophysics – looking at the ways in which we perceive flavour, and how we can maximise the use of our senses to create better eating and drinking experiences.  

This is also the topic of our next Perspectives episode, ‘How do we perceive flavour?, and for me it was super exciting to shoot with the amazing contributors we had in this round. In Seoul, we visited Yeonghwi ‘Hwi’ Yun, the bar manager at Bar Cham, situated in traditional surroundings, but with a modern take on South Korean flavours and ingredients. 

“For a drink to be delicious, it needs more than just balance – it also need flavour.”  

In Taipei, Seven Yi creates immersive bar experiences, challenging all the senses at Room by Le Kief with his creative approach to food and drinks; whilst back in London, we meet up with Niki Segnit, author of The Flavour Thesaurus, to discuss the importance of understanding your ingredients and flavours – but also why you should build your own ‘flavour library’ as a professional bartender.  
Lastly, we discuss the difference between something being cross modal and multisensory with Professor Charles Spence, as we take a closer look at our senses – and learn how a few ‘tests’ can help us understand their role when eating or drinking.  

We’ll be continuing to explore flavour and our senses over the next few months, and I hope you join us on this journey. See you at the bars!  

Monica Berg

The post How do our senses impact flavour perception?  appeared first on Campari Academy.

“Relying on things like citrus all-year-round for acidity is lazy and uninspiring.” So says Luke Whearty, co-owner of Melbourne’s Byrdi bar. He is, of course, talking about seasonality of ingredients – something that for bartenders (unlike their culinary counterparts, chefs) requires thinking beyond purely what’s on the back bar. For the most part, core spirits – whisky, mezcal, vodka, gin – are made and used all year round. And while things like homemade liqueurs and distillates can allow for a more seasonal approach to drinks-making, output of such products relies on training, inhouse expertise and resources – three things that not all bars have the luxury of access to.

No matter what your bar’s location, seasonality and its perhaps loftier cousins – terroir and globality – are going to continue in an upward trajectory of importance for how you build your drinks menus. Why? Well, as consumers continue to want to know more about where their food and drink come from, bars and their tenders will be looked at increasingly as pioneers in this field as the lines between bar and kitchen also continue to be blurred. And it’s not just about where our ingredients come from, but also in what cultural context they sit.

With all this in mind: how can bartenders work more in line with the seasons? And how does this translate into working in a more terroir-driven and flavourful way?

Timing’s everything

Back at Byrdi – which describes itself as ‘uniquely Australian where the local environment informs the drinks’ – and the team changes its menu every three months, with micro-changes also happening within each season to stay apace with new ingredients coming to their peak of quality. For Whearty, working with seasonal ingredients is a simple proposition: “Try and take the time to look at what is not only in season at that point in time, but also take the time to see what is coming into season in the near future and make the effort to plan your menus in advance.”

Peruvian bartender Luis Flores, a pioneer in the use of Amazonian ingredients, was lucky enough to learn about the seasonality of Peruvian products early on in his career during his first job as a barman at a restaurant. Fast-forward to the pandemic and he worked with Peruvian distilleries that use native and local products such as a Peruvian native potato vodka (14 Inkas), Andean fruits infused into cane alcohol (Destileria Andina), and mistelas, sweet wines made from pisco and oxidised grape juice. Lately, he’s also started using local products to make his own liqueurs such as limoncello from Amazonian citrus.

He sees there as being two types of seasonality: “On one hand we can talk about raw materials: vegetables, fruits, roots, barks and generally agrarian products which are used daily by chefs,” he explains. “On the other hand, with regards to drinks, the seasonality depends on the distillates and liquors developed, for which it is necessary to analyse and have adequate knowledge of the seasonality of their ingredients.”

Over in Fukuoka, Japan, and Shuhei Nomura of The Certain Bar has created an environment where the team are inspired by the local climate, culture and history to create their cocktails, while respecting ‘all living things that grow from the local soil’ using ingredients such as locally farmed tomatoes, native Japanese mint and hyuganatsu – a rare Japanese citrus which only grows for a few weeks in spring. The team’s menu changes regularly to keep up with what they have access to. “We change our menu every other week depending on our purchases,” says Nomura. “In parallel, we accept omakase orders and try to use up seasonal ingredients as quickly as possible.”

What’s cooking?

It is undeniable that the worlds of cheffing and bartending are linked in a way that is co-inspiring, although it is perhaps more true that bartenders are inspired by the workings of the kitchen. That is certainly the case for Nomura when it comes to thinking of ingredient seasonality. “I am most influenced by chefs of Japanese cuisine,” he says. “They offer food that coexists with nature, making the most of ingredients along with the changing of the seasons based on the 24 solar terms and the 72 seasons among the five elements of Yin-Yang,” namely wood, fire, earth, metal, and water. “You can feel the sense of season in the preparation, spatial presentation and service details.”

Over in Latin America and Flores points out that it is usually the kitchen where more bartenders begin their F&B careers. “Given the reduced number of bars in LATAM, bartenders tend to start their careers in restaurants,” he explains. “This allows us to work alongside chefs and exchange knowledge.”

When you consider a lot of the raw ingredients native to Latin America, this also means access to some seriously flavourful and seasonal produce. “Latin America does not have many distillates, but we do have a wide range of fresh raw products resulting in more flavourful cocktails. For example, the ubiquitous pineapple: in LATAM we can have access to it at any stage of its ripening whereas Europe receives unripe pineapple and other tropical fruits which are then ripened at destination, leading to a significant impact on the final flavour of the drink where it is used.”

For Whearty, working seasonally in the bar is no different to working seasonally in the kitchen. “I really don’t think it differs at all. Seasonality plays a huge role in how I look at creating drinks and I think it is the number one thing that can be incorporated behind the bar that creates a sense of time and place and becomes a much more meaningful approach to making drinks.”

Sense of place

Of course, with seasonality (and locality) comes the topic of terroir – a word often derided when used in relation to mixed drinks and spirits (as opposed to wine) but one that is being used more and more by distillers and bartenders. For Flores, like the term ‘seasonality’, terroir means more than just one thing: “When we talk about terroir it does not only refer to climate and soil, but also about soul and tradition. These differences contribute to changes in flavour which then are considered when mixing products from different regions of the country. Understanding the differences in terroirs and their effects on the products allows us to develop cocktails in a more critical and creative way.”

Whearty and co. work with specific producers who operate in certain ways in order to gain the most flavourful version of their ingredients as possible. “We have found that there is a remarkable difference between produce that is grown by someone that is taking the time to incorporate proper practices in their growing rather than mass-produced produce for the supermarkets,” he says, citing one particular producer of shiso in Melbourne who he uses due to its fragrance and flavour being far superior to that of other growers’.

For Nomura, who uses ingredients from Kyushu and water from a local spring, terroir is as linked to the soil and climate as it is to the person handling the ingredient. “There is a Buddhist concept, also used in the macrobiotic industry, called ‘shin-do-fuji’, which means that one’s body and soil are inseparable. Terroir can be expressed as long as there are people and land to make and drink cocktails.”

The payoff

So, what are the advantages of working seasonally? Of course, the more seasonal the ingredient, the more flavourful (and often more environmentally friendly), Nomura points out. Whearty also highlights the guest experience: “These days guests coming into the bar are pretty savvy and know how to make the core classics (and probably do at home regularly) so I feel it is our job as bartenders to give them a new experience that they can’t replicate at home.”

Nomura does point out that strict adherence to seasonality could be hampered by the supply chain. He and Whearty both cite preservation of ingredients (pickling, fermenting, etc) as an answer to this, but international businesses such as Natoora, which is revolutionising this step in the process, could be the long-term answer to this (find out more about them in our Raw Materials & Flavour episode).

For Flores, seasonality is key to creativity for bartenders. “I only see seasonality as an advantage. It helps you think faster on the production of new cocktails. It also helps you train your creativity – it makes you conscious.”

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If you’ve visited distilleries, the most common type of still you’re likely to have come across is the alembic still. Consisting of a boiling chamber, still head, swan neck and worm condenser, it is believed that the earliest iterations date back to the ancient Babylonians/Egyptians. From there it passed onto the ancient Greeks and then the Islamic empire in 800 AD whereby the design was perfected by Arab alchemist, Jabir ibn Hayyan.

The word ‘alembic’ approximately translates as ‘that which refines, which transmutes’. The products made by the Arabs at the time, were predominately used in cosmetics and it wouldn’t be till much later that in Europe, circa 1600, the still was used to concentrate fermented products such as wine, and to create eaux de vie.

Throughout history, the alembic still has alternatively been used to distil both alcoholic and non-alcoholic materials. Whilst you are most likely familiar with the gamut of alcoholic spirits the alembic still is used to distil, it is also used to distil products such as orange flower water and rose water. These non-alcoholic products fall into two categories: ‘hydrosols’ and ‘hydrolats’.

What’s the difference?

When distilling a water-based distillation such as rose water with an alembic still, two products are captured. One is a small quantity of the rose’s essential oil, and the second is what is called a hydrosol. Because the essential oils are hydrophobic, they do not mix with the water and float atop the hydrosol. Whilst these essential oils are extremely time consuming to produce, because of their concentration, the hydrosol also contains a high amount of aromatic compounds from the base material distilled.

A hydrolat is made by vigorously mixing the essential oil with a larger amount of water. As the two elements mix, the essential oil effectively washes the water, and in the process transfers some of its aromatic compounds. Many commercially available rose and orange flower waters are made in this manner.

Choosing your still

Using an alembic still to produce hydrosols is easy and relatively inexpensive. There are many online sellers that produce good quality copper alembic stills, exactly for this purpose. However, as a word of caution, I recommend vetting the seller before purchase to ensure that no toxic lead has been used in the soldering process during manufacture.

A good still should come with a guarantee from the maker that this is the case. I would recommend starting with a small scale 5L still to start, as you would need a fair amount of organic material to produce even a small quantity of hydrosol. As a rough guide, expect to produce 100ml or hydrosol per 100g of organic material (although this will vary according to what you distil). Also ensure that you used plenty of water in the distillation process, at least three times that of the organic material to avoid the still running dry and burning. The other parameter to be aware of, is whether your still has a vapour basket, which usually fits into a removal column between the boiling chamber and hat. This is useful for more delicate organic materials that disintegrate when in contact with a direct heat source.

In terms of recommendations for a heat source, I would also recommend investing in a heavy-duty hot plate and making sure it’s not an induction hob as these will not work with copper.

The alembic still is a great way of exploring a whole range of herbs and spices. I have had great success with products such as basil, Douglas fir, red sandalwood and pink peppercorn. So go ahead and experiment, it’s a great way to add complexity to both your alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks.

Pros:

1. It’s a cost-effective piece of equipment that allows you to explore a wide range of ingredients
2. You can add complexity to your non-alcoholic offering
3. The approach is more organic compared to a rotovap as you have to use your intuition more
4. It cuts down on waste by distilling your herbs rather than using them fresh, so you can keep the distillate for months rather than days
5. It works well with ingredients that have a high essential oil content
6. Fractional distillation allows you to isolate the precise ‘cut’ you are after

Cons:

1. Even with a vapour basket, some organic materials are too fragile to survive contact with direct heat or steam
2. Some poorly made stills have lead soldering, which is toxic, so always check with the manufacturer
3. Compared to a rotovap it is less energy efficient
4. Keeping the worm condenser chilled requires a constant flow of cold water or ice
5. There can be vapour leaks if the hat isn’t sealed properly
6. It requires more attention during the distillation process than the rotovap

The post Extracting flavour: Marcis Dzelzainis on how to use an alembic still appeared first on Campari Academy.

Of all the techniques I love, one of the closest to my heart is what you would call ‘fat washing’, which essentially is utilising fat’s excellent ability to carry flavour. Much like alcohol, it has the power to lock in flavour and transport it; but unlike alcohol at times, it preserves the more volatile and delicate nuances that I’m often trying to express in my drinks.

Historically, fat has always been recognised for its ability to ‘absorb’ flavour or fragrant compounds. From being infused with things like chilli and herbs to make flavoured oils for the kitchen, to ‘enfleurage’, a process invented in the South of France and traditionally used by the perfume industry to extract fragrant compounds from delicate flowers such as jasmine and tuberose.

There are many reasons why we choose to use fat washing as a technique, some more obvious than others, so let me get right into it.

Adding flavour

This might sound boringly obvious, but I’ve always been fascinated with oils (olive oil and various kinds of nut oils such as hazelnut, walnut or coconut) because they all add their own distinctive flavour to the spirits you infuse them with. I’m sure I’m not the only bartender who, when tasting a really high-quality virgin olive oil, has thought, “Wow, that’s amazing – how can I make that into a drink?”. Of course, the answer is you can. It just requires a bit of work, because you only really want the flavour of the oil, not necessarily the oil itself, which means you need to add a few more steps to your prep.

In short, it goes like this: Mix chosen oil and spirit, let infuse for desired time, place in freezer overnight, strain through paper (coffee) filter until spirit is (again) clear. It will now more or less look the same, but once you taste it, it will be completely transformed. If you started with olive oil and gin, you would now have a gin that also tastes of the oil it was infused with – but with none of the fat and heaviness.

There are of course more ways of adding flavour using oils, the most common perhaps being to use the oil itself to carry the desired flavour, be it herbs, spices, chilli, or other aromatic ingredients. It adds yet another step to your prep – infusing the oil first – but the rest goes pretty much the same as above. Any time you work with fragile ingredients, such as flowers or herbs, I find it super effective.

Adding texture

This is perhaps one of my most favourite ‘manipulations’. Personally, I’ve only ever managed to do this with fats that are solid at room temperature – butter, duck fat, beef dripping, etc. Yes, they add flavour, but the main reason why I love this is that they also seem to magically wrap the spirit in a veil of indulgence, richness and softness.

It’s almost like they neutralise the sharp edges, and what is left is this rounded, mellow and moreish version of the spirit you started with. My personal favourite is butter because, let’s be honest, the only thing better than butter is more butter. And for me, cultured butter is the butter of choice. It also conveniently leads me to my last point…

Adding acidity

When using cultured butter, it’s almost like the perfect hat trick: you get the rich creamy flavours, the decadent and soft texture and, last but not least, the tangy finish from the lactic acid. For a martini for example, in my opinion, it is the perfect evolution – and not far away from the perfect drink!

Actually, it wasn’t my last point. Because there is one more way we use it quite often – to tame heat, aka, when you want to showcase the flavour profile of a hot chilli like aji amarillo or habanero, but without all the heat. Aji Amarillo, for example, is a wonderful Peruvian chilli which is super fruity with mango and passionfruit notes, but it’s also quite pungent with a registered 30,000 to 50,000 on the Scoville scale. By first infusing it in the oil, and then fat washing the spirit, you keep all the fruity notes, whilst controlling the heat – and it allows you to showcase the different sides to the fruit but not burn your palate. And trust me, it does burn.

I’m sure there are endless more ways to use fat in drinks, and I’m having a lot of fun playing around with this technique, so to finish off, I’ll share one last personal preference that took a while to figure out: I never use heat when working with fats. I find beauty in the subtle nuances, and it’s my opinion that heat often kills this.

The post Extracting flavour series: Monica Berg on the fundamentals of fat washing appeared first on Campari Academy.

Supercritical fluid extraction is used in many industries, from the fragrance industry through to the pharmaceutical industry. By applying high pressure and temperature to a fluid in a controlled environment, such as a chamber, you can force the fluid to have the properties of both a liquid and a gas at exactly the same moment. This supercritical fluid will have a density similar to liquid and a viscosity and diffusion rate similar to a gas.

A supercritical fluid performs as an extremely good solvent and achieves a high extraction efficiency and yield of the desired flavour components. Many different fluids can be used to achieve these extractions from carbon dioxide to propylene and the selection of which supercritical fluid depends on the substance you wish to extract. At the Hepple Spirits Company, we use carbon dioxide as it has a moderate critical temperature and pressure to achieve supercritical fluid status and it can easily be separated from the extract as it is a gas at room temperature, and it works as an extremely good solvent when extracting juniper oil.

Getting started

It has taken a few years to perfect our production process but now we have a consistent method for the extraction of juniper oil from the organic Bulgarian juniper that we import. We start with 800g of juniper that is ground up in a powerful food processor for 10 minutes.

This reduces the berries to a sticky coarse powder and increases the surface area that the supercritical fluid will be exposed to, thus making the extraction of the juniper oil easier. The mound of ground up juniper is transferred to the column where the removed lid is reaffixed and the exit valve is firmly shut. It should be noted that the column must be thoroughly cleaned between extractions as the smallest piece of juniper can cause a leak in the seal and this allows the carbon dioxide to escape the column meaning it is impossible to achieve the desired pressure.

What happens next?

Once the lid is reaffixed and the exit valve shut the carbon dioxide cylinder is opened and the carbon dioxide is allowed to reach the piston pump in the base of the supercritical extraction unit. The pump is turned on and as the pump sends more carbon dioxide into the column, the pressure increases. While this is happening the heating jacket around the column is set to 40OC.

As pressure and temperature are related, i.e. an increase in temperature leads to an increase in pressure, the unit must be monitored and the pressure adjusted so that once the 40OC is achieved in the heating jacket the pressure in the column is 3,000 PSI. This pressure is the equivalent to going to just over 2,000m below sea level.

Once the supercritical fluid has been achieved the exit valve is opened a small fraction and the supercritical fluid moves through the ground up juniper where the juniper oil dissolves into the carbon dioxide and is taken down a tiny pipe and into a collection vessel. As the collection vessel is at room temperature the supercritical fluid returns to a gas and is separated from the juniper oil. From the original 800g of juniper we are left with 15ml of juniper oil.

What we get

This oil is super concentrated and can be used in the production of just over 1,000 bottles of Hepple gin. A little goes a long way and it would be foolish to use too much of the oil as it would overpower the other flavours that are present in the gin and obtained through copper pot distillation and vacuum distillation.

This super-concentrated extract contains flavour molecules that cannot be obtained through any form of distillation, it also contains a much higher quantity of these flavour molecules. For example, the extract contains 11 more sesquiterpenes than the copper-pot-distilled juniper equivalent – these are the flavour components that give a woody and piney flavour to the gin, the extract also contains five times as much D-limonene which gives citrus flavours to the gin.

Overall, the supercritically extracted juniper oil achieves the closest flavour profile to juniper other than juniper itself.

The post Extracting flavour series: Breaking down how supercritical fluid extraction works  appeared first on Campari Academy.

What is a rotovap?

A rotary evaporator, or rotovap for short, is a type of still used to distil organic materials in a solvent, under vacuum, and at low temperature. Conventionally found in laboratories, circa the early 2000s, Cairbry Hill (a trained scientist) and Nick Strangeway (co-founder and spirit creator at Hepple Spirit Company) started to experiment with its potential to distil unconventional and experimental aromas. Subsequently, the rotovap became a key piece of equipment in many bars across the world.

How does it work?

This low-temperature distillation process allows the user to capture delicate aromas, without any heat damage to the organic material. As such, delicate ingredients such as tea, rose petals or citrus peels are distilled in a manner that captures their precise essence, fresh and without any ‘stewed’ aromas. By using a vacuum pump, all the air is sucked out of the closed system. By lowering the atmospheric pressure inside the system, you also lower the boiling point of the solvent (usually alcohol), allowing the aromatic compounds to evaporate at a low temperature. For example: ‘At sea level water boils at 100°C; whilst on top of Mount Everest, which has lower atmospheric pressure, it would boil at 68°C.’

The rotary element in the name simply refers to the rotation of the boiling flask in the water bath, which allows for constant movement of the solvent and a larger surface area being exposed to the heat source. Once the solvent evaporates it hits a condensing chamber containing coils filled with ethylene glycol. The glycol is effectively an anti-freeze, with a much lower freeze point than water. Once the vapours hit the condensing coils, they condense back into a liquid state and into the collection flask.

Why should I use it?

But why use a rotovap over a still? Here are some of the pros and cons:

Pros:

• It allows you to capture delicate flavours;
• It is relatively energy efficient;
• The variety of ingredients it allows you to distil;
• As well as distillation, it can be used to create reductions. For instance, you can use it to evaporate the alcohol from a fortified wine and concentrate the non-alcoholic remnants. Traditionally, such reductions are done over an open heat source, denaturing the base product;
• If properly maintained and correct training is carried out, it is safer to use than a traditional still;
• You can isolate certain aromas based on their molecular mass. For instance, you can isolate the aromas of chili without the heat.

Cons:

• To harness the full benefit of a rotovap is it necessary to invest in the correct chiller. Most standard chillers go down to -10°C. However, manufacturers such as Polyscience make chillers that go down to -20°C, signficantly increasing the bandwidth of flavours you are able to capture;
• You can’t use a reconditioned rotovap if it originates from a laboratory. Certain toxic chemicals cannot be cleaned or removed from the rotovap after use. Meaning trace amounts remain present, ergo the equipment is not food safe;
• If there are any cracks within the matrix of the glass (meaning beyond a surface level scratch) you run the risk of implosion;
• Within the conventional set up, fractional distillation is not possible, i.e. on a traditional still you can taste the distillate as it comes off in stages, allowing you to choose your ‘cut’. With a rotovap you must wait for the whole distillation to finish, before tasting the final product;
• Water-based distillations don’t tend to work as well as alcohol, as water is not a potent solvent and requires increased heat to render aromatic compounds volatile enough to distil. Heavier ingredients with a higher essential oil ratio tend to fair better in a traditional still;
• Whilst larger format rotovaps (25L) do exist, they are very expensive and take up a large amount of space. Most rotovaps you see in bars only allow you to distil 500/700ml at a time.

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