The Rumpot Revisited

It's the height of folly to say this in the midst of our fleeting summer months, but I can't wait for Christmas.

-Allan, in August, filling his rumpot


It's been six months since I made the first layer of my rumpot using the early BC cherries and apricots.

Sitting in my coat closet, the mixture has gone through some profound transformations. It has lost the striking vibrancy it once had, and is now a uniform burgundy. The liquor has lost its clarity and is now murky with an exceptionally rich mouthfeel, verging on viscous.

It's delicious. The severity of the alcohol has been subdued, and the liquor is now surprisingly mellow.

The pot no longer exudes the delicate aromas that seduced me early in the summer. It now has a medicinal scent, strong of the boozy raspberries.

This morning was the first time I ate the fruit. On waffles with whipped cream, with an ounce of the liquor and black coffee. The fruits have combined to form one homogeneous flavour, so it matters little whether you spoon an apricot or a strawberry onto your plate. The fruit is extremely delicate, saturated with liquid.

A fantastic way to start the day, as long as you don't have to operate heavy machinery later in the morning.