The Classics: Applejack and Calvados - apples and oranges

Comparing apples and oranges - you've probably heard that saying about far-fetched analogies. There's no crafty maxim when it comes to apple distillates, but the same thinking holds true: They're all fruit brandies, but their similarities stop soon after that. Their differences, however, make for an interesting look into the fundamental rifts between the American and the French production of spirituous beverages and the way the two cultures view their role in the gastronomical world.

French distillers rarely consider mixing two different spirits to create a drink. Instead, they're more concerned with capturing the essence of an organic product through distillation. That's why so much time and effort goes into defining wine regions, appellations, varietals, and vintages. It all seems esoteric until you taste the distillates and experience their layered affect. The Yankee tactic reflects a concern for survival and for making a fast buck. When gin was unpalatable, Americans created the cocktail to mask the spirit's foul taste with juice and bitters, later came the so-called girl drink with its sugary syrups. When single-malt scotch was too strong for their tastes, Americans diluted it with neutral grain spirits. Calvados drinkers are the apple-brandy equivalent of single-malt drinkers, those with a sophisticated palate that doesn't flinch from fiery spirits. Applejack imbibers are more like those who prefer the smoothness of blended scotch.

Apple brandy, which is made with whole apples, was first produced by traveling still owners promoting the services of their equipment to French farmers with bumper crops of apples or cider. The name Calvados comes from the department, or county, of Normandy where the apples are grown. The department gained its name during a reclassification of boundaries following the French Revolution. Calvados is a translation of the name El Calvados, a Spanish vessel that shipwrecked off the Norman coast at the end of the 16th century. Distilled much like cognac, Calvados is made in copper stills and aged in oak for long periods of time before bottling. The French have narrowly classified Calvados into three types: Calvados Pays d'Auge, the purest apple brandy from a small area of the Auge valley, in the heart of Normandy; Calvados, a blend of brandies from a collection of the 10 lesser regions surrounding Auge; and eau-de-vie de cidre, a cider, as the name implies, from any of the cider-producing regions of Normandy, Maine, and Bretagne.

Of the three types of Calvados, you should never mix a cocktail or anything, for that matter, with a Pays d'Auge. The brandy's taste and age - sometimes upwards of 70 years - would be wasted if diluted. Even if you've just won the lottery, show some respect for the distillers, and keep their brandy pure. Although not governed by a state regulatory commission, French producers of spirits are governed by years of tradition. Their standards are high, and they bottle the best.

Of course, that's not to say all Calvados is superb. In Normandy, you usually can judge the quality of a Calvados by its price, but by the time it reaches these shores or other foreign boundaries, you don't know what the middlemen have added to the cost. If you do end up with a Calvados that's too strong for your tastes, use it as a mixer in cocktails, as an accent to coffee, or in recipes of such foods as pork loins and apple cobblers. Occasionally, you might see Calvados classified as an eau-de-vie. Although not incorrect, Calvados really doesn't resemble the white, fiery nature of that spirit. But if you were to visit France, you could find a bottle of the country's rot-gut eau-de-vie cider, which is too rough to bother exporting. The French have their pride, and they would rather warm themselves with a dram on an autumn morning than be known for exporting cheap liquor.

The United States also has a history of growing apples and turning them into spirits. The oldest continuous-running distillery in the States is Laird & Company, a family-owned operation in Scobeyville, New Jersey. In 1698, William Laird, a County Fyfe Scotsman, emigrated to Jersey and began making applejack for his family and friends. By 1780, he was selling it to them and had, according to Lisa Laird-Dunn, shared his recipe with President George Washington, who included it in his diary. The family's ties to the government must have been strong, because the company managed to get a senator to help it gain permission from the federal government to produce applejack for medicinal purposes during the Noble Experiment. Interestingly, though, in the 1946 Gentleman's Companion, Charles H. Baker reports, "It is rather unfortunate that our Prohibition era, through its raw applejack and Jersey Lightning, managed to completely deflect American taste against this fine spirit. Decently aged-in-wood applejack is a fine thing, just as French Calvados ... is lovely stuff."

By US law, applejack contains only 35 percent apple distillates; the rest are neutral grain spirits. In fact, the taste of applejack only hints at that of apple. In some respects, it makes more sense to compare applejack to your favorite flavored vodka instead of brandy. Lighter in body than Calvados, applejack - like blended whiskey - has been manufactured to bring the price down and the palatability up. I would never call applejack a premium spirit; however, it is a good cocktail mixer. A 750-milliliter bottle costs about US$10, and when used in such cocktails as the Corpse Reviver, the Jack Collins, or the Jack Rose, it's sure to pique an imbiber's interest.

The production of apple brandy spread to the Ohio River Valley during the early 1800s, but applejack has only recently made it to the West Coast. Today, we can thank Stephen McCarthy of Clear Creek Distillery in Portland, Oregon, for bringing the legacy to the West. Stephen spent years studying the great eau-de-vie distillers of Alsace, Normandy, and Germany. His apple brandy, though not as full-bodied as a Pays d'Auge, has all the apple flavor and much of the kick. Whether you take the brandy straight or as a shot to your espresso, its kick will scare off any chill. It's also the perfect sipper to accompany a pot of fondue and a gathering of friends. But most importantly, distillers like Clear Creek, as well as Bonny Doon and Germain-Robin, are changing American tastes and sophistication for the better with their efforts at producing brandy in the tradition of the French. Of course, we have yet to make the French appreciate the cocktail.