Kirsch-Wasser (Cherry water)

There is a level euphemism associated with descriptions of hard alcohol, a reticence to face up to the reality of the product, or maybe just a bit of local humour perhaps. “Cherry water” is right there in that tradition. Cherry - yes - and with the stones too taken into the distillation process. Water: not so much. For sure, like all distilled alcohols in their native form (ie pre barrel where colour maybe added) it is clear as water. And it is liquid. That’s as far as it goes.

To taste a great kirsch is a moving, emotional experience. As I take a glass (and the glass is a special beast: more later), I alwas start by smelling over the lip. I could not claim to b able to distinguish my kirsch’s different cherries. But the fruit is overwhelming - as it is in all great eaux de vies. Again the euphemism. Water of life? Really?

And the explosive but beautiful fruit is the point. The smell is comanding and compelling. I’m not just being literary. It’s an extraordinary experience. Every time. Of course if you hate it - then stop now and go and read the Daily Mail or something. But if the music of a great liquor sings to your soul, then read on.

So Kirsch feels like a an old Swiss farmer’s drink. Its traditions are in the mountains and the cherry orchards of those who kept them almost as an after thought to the cows and goats which are still primary in the normal Swiss farming priority.

Kirsch is double distilled, traditionally made from morello cherries. Critically, it is strong: 40% plus. Anything calling itself Kirsch which is 20% is lying. I had one not so long ago by mistake in Haupt Bahnhoff in Zurich, waiting for a train. It was sweet and chemically. And nothing like the serious hit that a Kirsch should deliver. My disappointment was serious. But educational. There are liquids out there which call themselves Kirsch, which are just not the real dog.

Real Kirsch is drunk from a small glass with a bubble in the middle to hold the nectar. It’s a basic formula: but it works.

Simply put then, Kirsch is a clear cherry brandy which should be never harsh, but also never sweet, clearly and unequivocally coming from cherries from the moment the stopper is pulled, with an aroma that should hit at a distance. It is a great drink in its own right though some disgusting perverts put it over ice. As a foil to the weight of a cheese fondue (there isn’t really any other), it is immense: post-fondue sleep without a Kirsch chaser is challenging. With one, babes are jealous.

Putting Kirsch over a sorbet feels like a terrible, dishonest betrayal, but also the most guilty secret. And just to make sure I haven’t become the pervert, I follow the sorbet-pollution with a pure one.

Every time.