Cassis, Part II

It took 3 months. I jarred black and red currants along with sugar and Heritage Distilling Vodka three months ago. They sat patiently on the counter, awaiting the perfect time to be put through a sieve, not once but twice. Some days I thought I’d just crack open the jars and strain the fruit. I was impatient at times. But I resisted and let the jars sit. Then, when the weather grew cool and the days grew short, I knew it was time.

Three months of living had happened during the wait. One hundred days, a hundred nights. It took two days to strain it properly, first through a mesh sieve, then through cheese cloth. You can’t press too hard or the cloth will break. Time and patience are required to achieve the perfect liqueur, but upon completing the process, I have to admit it: It was so worth the wait. 

How perfect is this picture, even in our own lives? Sometimes we wait, both patiently and impatiently. We question God. We take matters into our own hands. We feel like giving up and giving in, and sometimes we do. But, oh how sweet the reward if, when simply being patient is required, we can follow through and see it to the end. To reveal the rich, dark perfect fruit.

This process of making true French-style cassis revealed plenty to my heart about patience and waiting and God’s timing. This lovely, intense, fruit-forward liqueur is worth the wait. The process is oftentimes more important than the end goal or reward. I hope that next season you try your hand at fresh cassis. There is nothing quite like it. It’s light, floral pomegranate-sweet notes are balanced by the addition of champagne. So here, my friends, is to the fall and the waiting. All good things are worth a good wait.