Flat Lander's Barstillery, Grand Rapids
The apple, it’s said, falls not far from the tree. Whether it be opined for shortness of said trees or the gravitational delinquency of apples, one oughta, in autumn, focus first on the fall.
I found myself a bit of respite from the increasingly decreasing temperature of the season at Flat Lander’s Barstillery, an outpost with a multifaceted mode. Its ambiance rings a bell that spells a scent of what the wild west would look like if it had existed in the distant future.
While others, I know, have remarked in high spirits on the merit of the viand, I was solely in the spirit for spirits. And I happened to happen upon one that shone more warmly than a sunset in the deep of fall.
This audacious pomaceous will blow your breeze and cool your trees, appealing to the appetite and an appellation appropriate, as the round warmth of its body is accented with a tartness hinted, like the autumnal light shone abreast the crisp skin of a freshly picked apple.
I believe it was Carl Sagan who said, “If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe. If you want to make an apple pie amazing, add whiskey.”
But then again, I have been drinking.
WHAT, PRAY TELL, EVEN IS THE APPLESHINE?
Like most futuristic mountain folk, the barkeep was pretty tight-lipped as to the exact making of the Appleshine, but I was able to glean that it is:
Flat Lander’s White Whisky, cut with:
Apple juice made with Michigan-grown apples
Cinnamon shavings, fresh from the stick