Iiiit's Bacon!

It is finally time to revisit our attempt at creating a bacon infused vodka. This experiment, perhaps the most disturbing bacon concoction since the Vodka God's Super Pork Bacon Bomb, is in fact twofold; in order to increase our odds of discovering the perfect bacon infusion method, we are peer-reviewing a method found on the blog Brownie Points, as well as a method of our own devising.

The Brownie Points method, as described in our previous post on the topic, begins as a straightforward vodka infusion, with a two-stage filtration process to remove the excess fat tissue. We infused a fifth of vodka with three bacon slices, storing it in a science cupboard for three weeks. The second batch, intended to avoid entirely the greasiness that has ruined other bacon vodka experiments we've learned about, was created using artificial bacon bits. After the three weeks were over, the two vodkae looked like this:



Here is an overhead view of the real-bacon infusion, to show just how much fat had to be filtered out.



We began by straining both batches of vodka through cheesecloth into clean science jars. We then placed the jars into the freezer, which theoretically would solidify much of the remaining fats, allowing us to perform the second filtration stage.

After several days in the freezer, both jars had a visible layer of sediment at the bottom.



We strained each vodka again, this time using a coffee filter. As we have encountered before, the cold vodka flowed very slowly through the filter. Rather than hold it in place for long periods of time, we attached the coffee filter to the funnel using a few binder clips around the edges.

---

At this point, it was time to taste the vodka. We decided, for better or for worse, to taste the fake bacon infusion first. I took the first sample, and quickly spat it into the sink.



Though we usually avoid using artificial ingredients in our infusions, we had hoped that using artificial bacon might eliminate the residue that real bacon leaves, particularly in the Vodka God's attempt. However, I can only describe the results as an atrocity. From the very instant this substance made contact with my lips, I was overcome by revulsion. I was only able to process the very front end of this taste sensation, and had already spat it out before it really registered. If you can imagine extracting the almost-but-not-quite flavor of artificial bacon bits into a liquid form and drinking it straight up, with an uncut alcohol kick for good measure, you might imagine what this was like. Which is exactly what it was, brainiacs that we are. All in all, it was quite possibly the most horrifying experience I have been exposed to in the making of this blog.

As if reacting to what it was witnessing, my long-serving Powershot A70 camera chose this moment to drop stone dead. As a result, the rest of the photos (and probably for the next few posts, at least) were taken using Wayland's iPhone, so please excuse the lower image quality.

In spite of my reaction, Wayland dutifully drank his sample in the name of science. The second portion quickly rejoined the first.



"Ugh. That's salty and disgusting," Wayland wrote. "I don't think I'll ever burn that off of my taste buds as long as I live. The thing is, it does taste a lot like bacon bits. But without the crunch, you realize just how bad imitation bacon bits are. Without the crunch, they are horrible pieces of evil destined to destroy your taste buds."

It is interesting to note that while I have reacted poorly to several of our infusions, this is the first time that Wayland has ever had a spit-take with our infusions. He may not always like them, but he always at least gets them down. It seems that the man who once drank bottles of Cisco in college (and woke up fresh the next morning) has finally met his match.

In accordance with several international laws, we opted to rid the world of yet another potential weapon of mass destruction, and poured this vodka down the sink.

---

At this point, it was quite late, so we decided to postpone tasting the real bacon infusion for another night. The next morning, however, Wayland skipped town, putting thousands of miles between himself and this experiment, and did not return for a week. He claimed that he was on vacation, and had planned it months before. I knew the truth, though. It took the entire week just to clear that taste off of the palate.

Eventually, however, we knew we had to finish the evaluation. We had much higher hopes for the Brownie Points batch; after all, it had been tried before, apparently with decent results.

We poured two samples, raised our science glasses and... drank!



As we had hoped with all of our might, this batch was much better than the other. "It's a little rough on the front end," wrote Wayland, "but that's definitely bacon. It's salty, but not overwhelmingly bad-salty like the artificial bacon bits. I think it captures the bacon flavor quite well, although I admit it is a bit unsettling to drink bacon."

I believe I spoiled the test by taking the full shot Wayland handed me. (We normally do half shots for experimental sampling.) It was difficult to get down at first, but once I began to process the taste, I found it to be a fair representation of bacon. Indeed, there were instants where I found it quite tasty. This is certainly a vodka to be sipped in small doses, but I think it is quite successful.

So, there you have it. Sorry it took so long, Katherine! We're ready whenever you are.

You put the pineapple in the coconut and infuse it all up...

Two weeks seems about right for pineapple infusions. So after two weeks, we once again ventured into the lab to pit our wills against our own creation and see if we could come out still upright, with taste buds intact. We started off by pouring two baseline shots of straight Bacardi Coco for control purposes. Now personally, I've been a fan of this rum for a while. It's one of the few coconut rums out there that still weighs in at a hefty 80 proof. (Unlike the more popular Malibu Coco, which comes in at a wimpy 41 proof. That's not a rum, that's a cordial.) I don't know if I've ever actually drank it straight before, but we must do what we must do in the name of science. So we downed the shots and wrote our reactions.

Me: "That's coconut alright. It has a slight burn on the back end, but smooth otherwise. It leaves a slightly unpleasant overpowering coconut taste on the back end, however."

Brendan: "That's pretty smooth, though there is some burn. It tastes like coconut, that's for sure. I can't comment on the rum itself, since I'm not that familiar with light rum."

So, with our palates accustomed to the "before" phase of our experiment with very similar reactions, we ventured forth to taste the "after."

Me: "That's good. The pineapple leaves a sweetness that is absent from the plain Coco. Although, the coconut flavor is all that's left by the back end. This is quality; I wouldn't be opposed to leaving it longer and seeing if we could get more pineapple from it, but I'd be content to take it as it is too."

Brendan: "The pineapple flavor is just strong enough to balance with the coconut. It tips somewhat in the pineapple's favor at first, but slides back towards coconut in the end. Most of the alcohol burn is actually cut out on this one. I think it's a success, though I'm afraid most cocktails we us this in would be redundant."

After a brief discussion, we decided to declare this one a success, bottled it, and put it on the shelf. Since then, we've actually tried a couple pretty decent cocktails with the rum; but as of yet, those cocktails have yet to be examined with our normal scientific rigor, so the readers will just have to wait to see what I've come up with. We've started the Third Age of IoG with a success and the closing up of loops. Hopefully, that bodes well for the current incarnation.

Coming up next - Snickers Infused Vodka!

It is a scientific fact that pears are funny-looking.

As promised, today we are presenting the results of the remaining cliffhanger experiment from before our hiatus: pear infused vodka. This experiment used the same methodology we developed through trial and error for our apple vodka: we sliced a pear into wedges, infused it for five days, then replaced it with a fresh pear, repeating this twice for a total 15-day infusion.

The vodka came out with a deeper, darker color than our apple vodka. "There is definitely a pear-ish flavor to this," Wayland commented. "It's smooth and quite sweet, with no hint of burn. Not quite as much of a pear flavor as I'd like, but I'll call this a success."

My thoughts were similar. "This is very sweet, and has a very pear flavor, though it doesn't quite become distinct until the back end. The sweetness is almost too much, but not quite; it's just on the end of quite tasty. I like it."

Unlike the apple vodka developed in the Big Experiment, we did not use a spoonful of sugar at the onset of this infusion. It appears that this is a good thing, since it drew plenty of sweetness from the pears themselves. It is possible that a bit more time could have given this vodka a more comprehensive pear flavor, but we're pleased with what we came up with.

A spicy blast from the past

After a long process of excavating the various piles of documents, scribblings, and gadgetry that adorn my science desk, I was able to recover the fossilized remains of the tasting notes we made in January, just before the blog went inactive. These notes reveal the results of the last few infusions of that period, which were completed but the results never posted. (Of course, we could have simply tasted them again - which we still did, so that I could write this with a fresh memory. But discovering the original notes for the write-up lends an element of closure to the experiments themselves.)

On Monday, we will present the results of the pear infused vodka experiment. Today's post concerns the other* "lost" experiment, our peppercorn vodka.

To recap the starting post of this experiment, we created our peppercorn vodka by pouring a shallow layer of whole peppercorns into a science jar, before pouring 750 mL of vodka over them. We sampled the vodka after two days, and decided it wasn't quite done and gave it another.

After three days, we conducted our official tasting. Wayland's reaction was quite clear. "That's got a burn! And not a vodka burn. That's very much a black pepper flavor. I think it's dead on, and very much a success."

"This vodka has a strong spice, but also an odd, slight sweetness," I wrote. "The pepper flavor comes through well, despite various warnings that the corns must be cracked, or that the flavor will be slimy."

It is possible that the vodka could have been made even better if we had in fact cracked the peppercorns before infusing them. It is also possible that this would have made the flavor too strong. Perhaps one day we will do a side-by-side test to see which method is preferable, but for now, we are quite satisfied by the product that resulted.

*Not counting the kiwifruit vodka experiment, which remains unresolved from our first hiatus. We hope to soon bring this one to a close also; I actually found some of the notes for this experiment as well, but I don't remember what happened to the vodka itself.

Spiced cider vodka is amazing

After fifteen days and five ingredients, our spiced cider vodka was ready to sample. The infusion, which involved apples, cinnamon, orange, nutmeg, and cloves, was our most complicated to date, and had the highest standard to live up to. Often, when we throw a party in the cold winter months, Wayland crafts a delicious apple cider, slowly heating it in a crock pot with the latter four ingredients. (Often, allspice is also used, but we could not find any whole allspice in time for this infusion.) We mix the cider with a healthy dose of spiced rum, and enjoy the warming, flavorful drink.

We modified the experiment slightly from the original write-up. The cinnamon stick was intended to infuse for the full run of the experiment, but when we tasted it on day ten, we decided that the cinnamon flavor was getting too strong and removed it. However, when performing final maintenance on day fourteen, we decided that the apple had overpowered the remaining cinnamon flavor, so we added a new cinnamon stick for the final day. The final infusion schedule was as follows:

Day 1: Add one cinnamon stick and one wedged apple
Day 2: ---
Day 3: ---
Day 4: ---
Day 5: Replace apple wedges
Day 6: ---
Day 7: ---
Day 8: ---
Day 9: ---
Day 10: Add two orange wedges, replace apple, remove cinnamon
Day 11: Add three nutmeg seeds
Day 12: ---
Day 13: ---
Day 14: Add a bundle of cloves and one cinnamon stick
Day 15: Complete!

Please note that only two wedges of the orange were used, as opposed to the complete apples. The orange was intended to only provide a hint of flavor, and not be a primary component. We scored the wedges to ensure some flavor would escape the wedges' skin.



This was the sight that met us on day fifteen. The vodka had attained a burnt orange color. We strained out the ingredients and tasted it, and we were not disappointed.

"This vodka has truly captured the essence of mulled cider," Wayland wrote. "It's sweet, with no hint of burn, and the flavors interplay wonderfully for a truly cider experience."

I found that the final day's maintenance made a world of difference compared to the mid-experiment taste the day before. "The addition of cloves, and particularly, the extra day of cinnamon gives this infusion a complex flavor, exactly as we were hoping. Each flavor puts in an appearance, with the possible exception of nutmeg, but none steal the show."

We were exceptionally pleased with how the vodka had turned out. Even cold, it gave a sensation of warming. It tasted almost exactly like Wayland's spiked cider, even without any rum being involved. Though this infusion required more maintenance than any we have done previously, we feel that it was well worth the effort.

Candy Cane Infused Vodka Results

Twas the night before Christmas and throughout the lab
Vodka was infusing with the potential for good and for bad

The scienticians in their lab coats stood before this next test
Three jars of vodka each with candy canes, to taste was the rest



Peppermint candy cane would be the one they tried first.
Would this be the best or would this be the worst?

I shook up the jar and poured each man a shot
"To Cronan!" we toasted and then wrote down each thought.

Brendan: The front end is very peppermint; at first, it seemed that this would be quite smooth and refreshing. Unfortunately, a fairly strong vodka burn rose from the background. This might work in a mixed drink, but I wouldn't shoot it.

Wayland: We have successfully created Scope!

Peppermint candy cane was not good, that was for sure
Cherry candy cane was the next that we had to endure.

Once again each man had a shot in his hand
Would the taste of this vodka they be able to stand?



Brendan: This had the same front end-back end interplay, though it intensified this time. The front end is too sweet and the back end burn is even harsher. This vodka is remarkably devoid of cheer.

Wayland: That was excellent and sweet and cherry-ish on the front end; however, it turned evil and burning on the back end, like a reverse Mr. Scrooge.

They said this vodka did not fill them with cheer.
Which was not what they wanted this season of the year.

The final candy cane vodka was that of chocolate mint.
With the results of the first two, their hopes were but a glint.

One shot for each was poured for these two.
And they drank it right down, as they often do.

Brendan: This one is better than the others, at least. It has a nice chocolate flavor on the front with peppermint notes, and though the burn still follows, it is not nearly as strong. It is an oddly gradual burn, however.

Wayland: Probably the best of the three, but that's not saying much. Again, it has a delightful front end, but once the flavor left, it burned wherever it touched including my lips.

It seems candy canes and vodka were not meant to be.
Failures not one or two, but it occurred with all three.

And as they watched the vodka drain out of sight
Both said, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"

Jalapeño Gojira!

Most of the images in our archives are not appearing right now. We host our images and other files on a separate site, which is currently down while we switch domain registrars. For this post, we're hosting our images on an emergency Photobucket account, but our archives are text-only for the moment. Everything should be back in working order soon.

Though many of our infused vodka experiments turn out to be one-time gigs, we use a number of them regularly, and must periodically replenish our supplies. Recently, we began a new batch of our jalapeño vodka, which we use often as a marinade.

We normally infuse our jalapeño vodka for three days. This is sufficient to give the vodka a crisp, smooth flavor, reminiscent of green bell peppers, followed up by a substantial but not overwhelming kick of heat. This time, however, though I marked the date we begun the infusion on our calendar, I forgot to add an end-date reminder. As such, the vodka was neglected in an obscure cabinet in our laboratory -- for eleven days. Though it doesn't show very well in the below photo, the vodka had attained a pale but noticeable green color, which had never appeared in previous batches.



Of course, when we finally discovered it, we weren't going to give it up as a lost cause. We Mad Scienticians are well established as capsaicin addicts, and were intrigued by the over-infused vodka. We decided to sample it that night.



Amazingly, the vodka was still quite drinkable. "This has a hell of a burn on the back end," wrote Wayland, "but it's not too bad. It's probably still milder than our habanero vodka."

"It still has the same jalapeño flavor, without tasting overdone," I wrote, "but the heat is kicked up significantly."

We soon realized that of all the infusions we have created, jalapeño might be the only one that is time-scalable. Most infusions have a peak where they have attained the strongest and most faithful flavor from its ingredient, after which it descends (some gradually, others very quickly) into ruin. Jalapeño vodka may yet have its breaking point as well, but it seems that its creator can adjust their infusion time, depending on how much heat they prefer, without adversely affecting the flavor or overall quality.

Wayland noted, however, that "I can definitely feel the burn in my stomach after all is said and done."

Nutmeg vodka: now with dangerous toxins!

Our most recent infused vodka experiment is nutmeg vodka. This experiment follows up on our recent clove-infused vodka, leading up soon enough to one of our most ambitious experiments yet, a five-ingredient spiced cider vodka.

Nutmeg has a long history in holiday drinks, being a traditional ingredient in egg nog and mulled cider. It is also used as a flavoring spice in cuisines around the world. What many people do not know is that nutmeg contains a mild hallucinogen known as myristicin. Consuming one to four teaspoons of ground nutmeg can cause mild euphoria and distorted vision (coupled with unpleasant side effects). Upwards of six teaspoons can lead to nausea, body pain, convulsions and even a psychiatric disorder aptly named "nutmeg poisoning." Fortunately, though nutmeg is a wonderful spice in lower quantities, consuming this much nutmeg straight up is generally unpleasant enough to prevent most people from trying to get a buzz from it.

We created our nutmeg-infused vodka using three nutmeg seeds. One nutmeg seed yields approximately three teaspoons of ground nutmeg. Let me check my math here... that's a total of nine teaspoons. You'll shoot your eye out, kid!

Don't worry, we're fairly certain that infusing vodka with whole nutmeg (as opposed to ground) is not going to impart most of its myristicin into the vodka. In addition, whatever amount of the chemical actually does find its way out will be distributed throughout a fifth of vodka, not a single drink, so as long as no one drinks this stuff from a beer bong, we should be pretty safe.

To begin the experiment, I cracked each seed approximately in half using very technical instruments.



We poured vodka over the cracked seeds and infused it for a little over a week.

The time came to taste the vodka... and then it whooshed by like one of Douglas Adams' deadlines. It seems that this infusion should run for somewhat less than a week.

"I'm torn on this one," Wayland wrote. "It's definitely nutmeg, but I think it's a bit on the strong side. I'd probably recommend a shorter infusion time when we put it in the cider. It's a bit bitter, but might work if it is mixed with something."

My thoughts ran along nearly identical lines. "Whoa, that was definitely some nutmeg. The flavor is spot on, but way too strong. It needs to be infused for a shorter length of time. Other than that, there is a mild vodka flavor but not really a burn."

Despite the extra time, we consider this vodka a success. The flavor is not so strong as to ruin the vodka, but mixed drinks will have to be proportioned carefully to avoid overpowering other ingredients. In the future, though, we will infuse it for a shorter duration.

I'm Looking Over a 50 Clove Vodka...

Back to the science lab again! This week, we've decided to make clove-infused vodka.

In our research into cloves, we found that cloves were used in the past for medicinal purposes for gastro-intestinal problems. So, maybe this will be the vodka that settles your stomach!

This is the first experiment of three we have embarked on to create spiced cider vodka. We decided we should attempt an infusion with each ingredient individually first, and we had all of the necessary infusions but two. The vodkae we already had were apple, orange, and cinnamon. And then we had to make two as of yet announced vodkae. Clove is the first. Stay tuned next week for the second, and then finally we'll ring in the month of December with a glass of holiday cheer with spiced cider vodka.

We obtained a brand new container of cloves, only to find we already had about 2/3rds of a jar left in our spice cabinet.



I took the tedious process of counting out 50 individual cloves, then poured the vodka on top of them.



Dance, my little drowning cloves! Dance!

After a scant two days of infusing, we decided the vodka was ready to taste.

Brendan liked it, but felt it was missing something.

"This is rather tasty, though it feels incomplete. It has a pleasantly musky flavor with just a hint of spice. I think it will be excellent in the cider combo, though I wouldn't necessarily drink it on its own."

As for myself, I thought it was a damn good drink on its own.

"That's a beautiful taste. I almost think you could sit there and sip on this on the rocks. It's sweet with a distinctively clove warmness. It has a bit of an odd taste near the back end, but otherwise this is excellent."

So, not a perfect review, but we definitely both approve. Stay tuned next week for the final ingredient, before embarking on spiced cider vodka.

The Gift of Vodka: Lavender-Vanilla

Before we begin, we want to note that all comments on the blog site now require a "captcha" word verification. We've been getting a lot of spam posted in the comments - mostly in old posts, but it still needs to be stopped. It's important to us that all of our legitimate readers are able to comment, so we decided this was the best compromise. Sorry about the inconvenience.

Recently, our friend Bevin (who you might remember from our original caramel vodka experiment) had a birthday, and she had a special request for the occasion: lavender-vanilla vodka. We were only happy to oblige.

We have, of course, infused many batches of vanilla vodka in the past; it is one of our staples. However, we hadn't any idea how to proceed with the lavender. A number of websites our research uncovered recommended using whole lavender sprigs, but Bevin had provided us with a bag of loose blossoms, so we kept looking. We nearly decided to figure it out on our own, by tasting it daily until it was done; however, at the last minute, we found a post on a forum stating that such an infusion would be complete in a mere fifteen minutes, and any more would ruin it. We tested this theory using half a cup of lavender blossoms soaked in 750 mL of vodka.



The color began to change almost immediately, and sure enough, after a mere 15 minutes, the vodka had attained a light purple color and a strong but subtle aroma. We strained the blossoms out and tasted the lavender vodka without the second ingredient.

Both of us found the vodka to be subtly pleasant. "I had no idea what lavender tastes like or is even used for; I am a man, after all," I wrote in my notes. "But this vodka is very intriguing. It has a slight sweetness, and a complexity that is rare in many infusions that run for days or weeks. It has a very slight vodka flavor in the background, but no burn at all. I look forward to tasting it with the vanilla component."

"I do believe this is what lavender essential oil would taste like," Wayland wrote. "If my guess is correct, the lavender only changes the vodka flavor slightly, but it is the scent of the lavender that gives you the distinct taste."

Wayland tested his theory by tasting the vodka again, this time with his nose pinched to block the aroma.



"There was no flavor to the vodka this time... until I let go of my nose on the back end. Then it tasted like it smells again. To me, that proves that the taste comes mostly from the scent."

At this point, we sliced a vanilla bean lengthwise and placed it in the vodka as we have so many times before. We usually run vanilla vodka for about five days, though we felt that this may be too long for this infusion; we wanted a subtle vanilla flavor that would not overpower the lavender. We set out to taste it in two or three days. However, a series of unfortunate events prevented this from happening, and soon we found ourselves nearly a week into the experiment.

Fearing that the vodka must be ruined, and with Bevin's birthday fast approaching, I frantically began a second batch of vodka using the same steps. The next day, we tasted both batches for the first time; one after seven days of vanilla infusion (on the left, below), the other with a mere 24 hours.



The second batch was still close to the pleasant color of plain lavender vodka, while the original batch looked more like plain vanilla vodka. We granted the point to batch two in this round, but the most important test was yet to come.

We tasted the original (week-long) infusion first. "This has a nice blend between lavender and vanilla, I think," wrote Wayland. "My only complaint is a mild burn on the back end."

"I was surprised that the vanilla had not overpowered the lavender," I echoed. "In fact, the vanilla is a fairly light component of this vodka, though it does have a significant presence. There is still a hint of vodka flavor that detracts slightly, but not much."

Next, we sampled the second batch, with the day-long vanilla infusion. Not entirely surprisingly, this was not long enough. "The vanilla component is still there," I said, "but it's even lighter than before, essentially an afterthought. This vodka is good, but it's not much different from the straight-up lavender."

Wayland's comments were similar. "This wasn't as good as the first. The lavender flavor is a bit too overwhelming. I think, like the first, the vanilla needs more time to infuse." Then he made fun of me for panicking.



In the end, we gave both batches to Bevin, mainly so she could estimate what the plain lavender vodka would taste like using the second batch. We were quite pleased with how the first batch turned out, and may make another bottle of it for our own stock.

A peach vodka tasting in two acts

Yikes! Okay, it looks like our relaunch didn't go as smoothly as we initially planned, but now we have a system! This from the guys who produced the catchphrase "Plans are overrated." Expect us to post more frequently in the future. For really!

We first tasted our peach vodka on a fine Thursday evening after four days of infusion. The research we conducted indicated that this would be plenty of time, but this was not to be. The vodka had attained a light orange-pink tint, but not much else. "This has very little peach flavor, no sweetness to speak of and is a bit sour," I wrote.

Wayland's take was similar. "There's definitely a strong vodka burn with this. I didn't get much peach flavor at all."

The vodka went back into the science fridge to infuse further. We tried it again a week later, for a total of 11 days of infusion. Our feelings were more mixed on this second try.

Wayland liked it in general but was slightly let down by it. "This is very good, except for the back end. It had a crisp, sweet front end, and a smooth, almost tasteless middle. It also left a sweet, peachy aftertaste. However, between the middle and the aftertaste, the vodka left a spoiler that marred an otherwise great vodka. This is good, but if not for the sour/burning back end, it would be great." (Wayland later clarified that the vodka had ruined the ending of that week's Stargate: Atlantis.)

I seemed to have gotten all the parts Wayland didn't like, but without the good parts to balance it. "Sourness is the wrong term for it. So is vodka burn. What I got is a tingling sensation that started dull and intensified through the back end. Quite unpleasant, though it does taste a little sweeter now."

We decided to give it some more time and see what happens. Of course, after that we kind of forgot about it, so it may have been left too long. But now it is in the system, so we will find out soon enough.

The Scienticians have died in a horrible Everclear explosion (also, lemon-lime results)

While attending Shore Leave, the Mad Scienticians bunked with the Vodka God. Naturally, the room was well stocked with various and sundry alcohols for the weekend, as we brought several of our vodka infusions, and Arthur made his world famous punch (the formula which inspired us to dabble in punchmaking ourselves). Unfortunately, such a high level of concentrated alconomics led to disaster, as our "bar" table reached critical mass and exploded. The Vodka God, being immortal, survived. Wayland and I once spent a few years as gods as well, but we have since retired; therefore, we were both killed painfully. This is why we haven't posted anything in two weeks.

It took us some time to determine how to access the internet from beyond the veil, but our persistence paid off. We finally acquired an authentic TopatoCo Steampunk Internet Ouija Board which is allowing our spirits to finally post. So, without further ado, we present the results of our Lemon-Lime Vodka experiment.



After six days of infusion, the vodka had attained a slightly green tinge, though not quite as much as our original lime vodka. Recall that our intent for this experiment was to create a light and sweet vodka reminiscent of Sprite or 7-Up. As such, we used the full zest of a lemon and a lime, but only two slices of each fruit. We also added two spoonfuls of sugar to sweeten it, with the intention to add more later if necessary.

Using all of our strength, we were able to exert enough of a physical existence to pour two shots of vodka and drink them.



If a spirit drinks a spirit, does that make him a cannibal?

Using human blood on a mirror, I wrote that "due to the Shore Leave festivities (and our untimely deaths), we let this infusion run too long by at least a day, possibly two. The sourness of the fruits have overpowered the vodka, even though we used less of it. Perhaps if we strain it now and add more sugar to sweeten it more, it will be good."

Wayland's thoughts were hauntingly similar. "Too sour! Other than the overwhelming sourness, this is actually pretty smooth. The flavors are about right. If we could do something about the sour, we would be golden."

It is a little-known scientific fact that ectoplasm is mostly caramelized sucrose, so it was an easy task to add additional sugar to the vodka. We added the equivalent of two spoonfuls of sugar and tried it again. Unfortunately, it was not sufficient to salvage the experiment. The sourness remained, and Wayland commented that it may even be worse. (This is in line with what we learned in the Big Experiment, that sugar can intensify an infusion's natural flavors, making a good infusion great and a bad infusion worse.)

We will keep this vodka on hand for further experimentation, but ultimately, we are probably going to have to try this one again from scratch. Perhaps it would work better with zest only, and no "meat" of the fruit.

More results: black tea and lemon vodka

Last week's infusion experiment, black tea and lemon vodka, infused for about a day. Due to time constraints, we bottled the infusion taste untested, and waited until the next day before conducting a true test. The loose tea cold-steeped the vodka to a dark brown color, as we expected. Before bottling, the infusion looked like this:



We strained the tea leaves and lemon zest out of the vodka through cheesecloth while bottling it.

It should be noted that neither of the Mad Scienticians are avid tea drinkers. We generally only drink it when we are sick, or when a rare mood strikes us. Therefore, we are not qualified to review the quality of the tea flavor in its own right.

This testing occurred on the same night as the Big Experiment testing, so as you might tell, we were slightly buzzed by this point. However, we do not believe it was enough to adversely affect our analysis.



I felt that the vodka had "a strong tea flavor all the way through, though it still has a significant vodka flavor component, and a bit of a burn on the back end. The lemon flavor is barely noticeable in its own right, but it is present as a part of the tea flavor, which is as it should be. It's not something I would drink often on its own, but I bet it would taste great with our honey vodka."

Wayland's thoughts ran along similar lines. "This reminds me of being sick, though not in a bad way. Generally, when I'm sick, I turn to tea. The problem is, I usually add copious amounts of sugar or honey to my tea. I feel like this vodka needs a sweetness that isn't there. There is a mild vodka burn to this, but it is hardly noticeable. Other than the lack of sweetness, this is excellent."

---

Subsequently, we decided to put our mutual theory to the test, by combining this with honey vodka.

Black Tea/Honey Shot

Shake with ice and pour into a shot glass:
½ oz. Mad Scientician™ Black Tea and Lemon vodka
½ oz. Mad Scientician™ Honey vodka

This is exactly what we felt was missing when we tasted the black tea. The sweetness supplements the taste of the tea vodka, and cancels out its back-end burn. Wayland felt that it could use a higher tea ratio, possibly two-thirds tea to one-third honey; I thought it was fine as it is, though the higher ratio may be preferred by tea lovers.

Brendan's score: 3.5 flasks out of 5
Wayland's score: 3.5 flasks out of 5
Overall score:

Results of the Big Experiment (finally!)

Sorry about the delay in posting these results; we know many of you have been waiting with bated breath! It's been a very long week for the Mad Scienticians, for a number of reasons. Not the least of these reasons is our preparations for Shore Leave. That's right, the Scienticians are making the trek up to Baltimore this weekend to geek out, so if you're in the area, come look for us! We'll be bringing several of our infusions to share with friends, fans and complete strangers.

To review, the Big Experiment with which we celebrated six months of Infusions of Grandeur involved four separate apple vodka infusions, each using a slightly different methodology. All four infusions were run for two weeks. Below, you can see the finished infusions, labeled with the corresponding methodology.



A. Apple replaced every three days, with a spoonful of sugar at the beginning.
B. Apple replaced every three days, without sugar.
C. Same apple for two weeks, with a spoonful of sugar.
D. Same apple for two weeks, without sugar.

Take note that method C is the same method we used in our original experiment, six months prior.

To ensure a true double-blind test, we discarded the apple wedges from each infusion, and stored the meanings of the letter labels elsewhere. We then gave the infusions to our laboratory assistant Amy, who could not identify the infusions. She served us samples in random order, taking note of the order for later identification.



Our reviews are listed here in the order we sampled them, not in the order they appear above.

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Infusion One: Same apple for two weeks, without sugar. (Jar D)

Wayland described this vodka as "alright. I don't think this is as good as the original. It has two stages: apple followed by vodka. The back end is very vodka-tasting, while the front end is sweet and appley."

My reaction: "This shot is mildly harsh, but it's not prohibitive. It has a sweetness that supports the flavor, which is strong on the front end. The flavor doesn't scream apple, but it's appley enough."

Notice that both of us described a sweetness to this vodka, though no sugar was added. Interesting!

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Infusion Two: Apple replaced every three days, with a spoonful of sugar at the beginning. (Jar A)

After tasting this infusion, I wrote that "the flavor is brief, with no vodka taste. It tastes very much of apples, with a strong sweetness, but it also has a slightly sour/bitter component that makes this vodka slightly unpleasant. It's not the gut reaction I got from our debut batch, but I wouldn't drink this recreationally."

Wayland's thoughts were much more favorable. "I like that a lot. It's apples. If I didn't know this was vodka, I would think I was drinking apple juice. This could actually be pretty dangerous. I can see drinking this straight from the bottle until your body realized you had drank entirely too much."

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Infusion Three: Apple replaced every three days, without sugar. (Jar B)

The results of this infusion, compared with the previous one, show pretty thoroughly how sugar can affect an infusion.

Wayland described this one as "very smooth, like the last one, with no vodka burn. It did have a hint of sourness to it that the last one didn't have. Analyzing it, I think I liked the previous one better, although this one might have a more 'authentic' apple flavor to it. I think that brief snippet of sourness detracts from the drink as a whole."

I wrote that "this one tastes much like the previous vodka, but less so. Less sweet, less appley, but also less sour and bitter. Unfortunately, the former flavors have been reduced enough that the latter are still dominant. Thoroughly underwhelming."

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Infusion Four: Same apple for two weeks, with a spoonful of sugar. (Jar C)

Again, this infusion uses the same methodology as our debut batch of apple vodka.

I still didn't like it. "Oof. This sucks. I'm pretty sure this is the original version. It has little apple flavor, and is quite sour. It has a vodka burn, but no vodka taste."

I challenge anyone who says that the phrase "Oof, this sucks" has no place in a respectable scientific article to taste this vodka under controlled circumstances and say it again.

After trying the alternatives, Wayland seemed to finally be swayed to my point of view on this vodka. "Wow! This has the tartness of the last vodka plus the burn of the first. By far the worst of the batch. It's like you took a drop of apple juice and a splash of sour mix, and added them to several ounces of vodka. Definitely not the method to use."

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With the results in, we rated the vodkae as follows, with 1 being our favorite:

	Brendan:	Wayland:
A. Replace apples, with sugar:	2	1
B. Replace apples, no sugar:	3	2
C. Same apples, with sugar:	4	4
D. Same apples, no sugar:	1	3

This resulted in a heated debate between the two Mad Scienticians about which would be hailed as the winning method. We argued not only about which one was best, but about the fundamental tastes of the vodkae. Eventually, I was convinced to do a repeat test of methods A and D, mainly because I found it hard to believe that my favorite of the four had included the same apples for two weeks.

I poured myself a small sample of batches A and D. There was no scientific control involved in this retest; I knew exactly what I was drinking. Upon tasting these vodkae for the second time, I decided that my initial reviews of each had somehow been flawed. In fact, I was amused by the realization that if I reviewed them again, I would have given the same reviews in the reverse order. (No, I did not switch the shots; I was quite careful about that, and only slightly buzzed.)



The revised rating table is as follows:

	Brendan:	Wayland:
A. Replace apples, with sugar:	1	1
B. Replace apples, no sugar:	3	2
C. Same apples, with sugar:	4	4
D. Same apples, no sugar:	2	3

The winning methodology is to replace the apples every three days throughout the infusion, and to add a spoonful of sugar at the beginning.

Conclusions of honey and ginger vodkae

Our most recent vodka sampling session showed the success of two of our ongoing infusion experiments. You might even say that we declared our independence from ongoing infusions, because other than the Big Experiment, there is nothing else running (until we begin this week's experiment). We're not going to know what to do with ourselves, not having three or four vodkae to sample each week.... fortunately, the four-way apple comparison will easily make up for it.

We were in a hurry to sample the honey vodka, so we tasted it first. It could have possibly been "complete" almost immediately after the experiment, since very little separation occurred after the initial shaking. We gave it a final shake just to be sure, poured two shots and sipped them gently.

I felt that the vodka "was very sweet, with no burn at all. There is a nanosecond of vodka taste on the back end, but it vanishes almost before it registers. This might be better than Bärenjäger. It probably would have worked with a bit less honey, but I like it fine as it is."

Wayland made similar observations, writing that it was "very sweet, very smooth. Possibly a little sweeter than Bärenjäger. It tastes just like honey, albeit watered down. There's really no hint of vodka to this. It could be dangerous."

It should be noted that by using the amount of honey that we did (12 ounces mixed with 750 mL of vodka), we reduced the alcohol content of the vodka significantly. A fifth of vodka is about 25.36 ounces, so some quick calculation reveals that our formerly 80 proof vodka has been watered down to a mere 54.3 proof, or about 27% alcohol. (In comparison, Bärenjäger is 35% alcohol.) Depending on your goals, this could be a good or bad result; in this state, the honey vodka will make an excellent mixer or cordial. However, if you prefer a little more potency, we believe that this would still taste wonderful with a somewhat reduced honey content.

In fact, the amount of honey led to another effect that we should have forseen: the process yielded well over a fifth of honey vodka, and it wouldn't all fit in the bottle, even after sampling two shots (and spilling some onto the science counter when the bottle got full). Fortunately, we had an extra 5 ounce sample bottle to store the remainder. Now, what shall we do with it?

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The success of the honey vodka had us in high spirits (no pun intended) as we moved on to sample the ginger vodka for the third time. There was no significant change in its appearance from the previous sampling. At this point, the infusion had been running for 31 days.

Wayland took the first sample, and wrote, "Now that brings back childhood memories of Pepperidge Farm gingerbread cookies, although this is less sweet. It is incredibly smooth. There's no hint of vodka burn at all."

Let's ignore the disturbing fact that Wayland's childhood memories can be inspired by hard liquor and move on.

I noted that "the spice, after toning down before the previous tasting, seems to have surpassed its original bite, and the flavor has intensified with it. It's reached a good balance that takes you pleasantly by surprise. The back end has a vodka flavor component, not as brief as with the honey vodka, but light enough that it blends with the ginger taste and bite and becomes a part of it."

Both vodkae were bottled, leaving only the Big Experiment, which we intend to bring to a close in the next 24 hours. With luck, we will have time to post our results tomorrow during the holiday. For all you Americans out there, we at the Infusions lab hope you enjoy your Independence Day (and we forgive you if you relax with a brew, rather than a martini - I plan to have one or two myself). For the rest of you, have a great Wednesday.

Vodka tastings and conclusions

As of last week, we had four vodka infusion experiments ongoing at once, not counting the Big Experiment (which brought us to eight bottles, total). We recently tasted those four, and are proud to declare three of them successfully complete.

Before we go into that, however, a note on the Big Experiment. When we made our initial post, I wrote one batch of apple vodka would have the apple wedges replaced every three days, with a spoonful of sugar added with each replacement. A couple of readers expressed concern that the subsequent spoonfuls of sugar would add an unwanted variable to the experiment, since the corresponding batch whose apples will not be replaced will receive no extra sugar. We realized that they were right; there really is no reason to add more sugar to that batch of vodka. We have now replaced the apples in the appropriate vodkae twice now, and only added the initial spoonfuls of sugar.

Now, on to the tastings. In this session, we sampled the blueberry, watermelon, ginger, and vanilla-caramel vodka infusions.



We have begun to document our initial reactions more thoroughly than we used to, so for the sake of clarity, I am going to change how these posts are formatted. Each of our written reactions (sometimes paraphrased) will be labeled separately. We tend to take turns taking the first shot, so the order of our reactions may alternate. (Our opinions used to be commonly labeled by our reaction photos, but I've been relying on those photos much less lately, because they're pretty repetitive.)

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The blueberry vodka looked about the same as it did last time; at this point, it had been infusing for 50 days, yet another record-crusher after the recent 39-day almond experiment. Though, to be fair, this was in part due to the fact that we skipped a week in our tastings.

Brendan's reaction: "It has very much a blueberry taste, but with a heavy sourness around the edges. Fortunately, the sourness fades quickly. It could be better, but the taste is strong enough and close enough to call it done."

Wayland's reaction: "I realized as we poured the shots that until now, my experience with blueberries has been limited to faux-blueberries in frozen goods, so I can't judge how close the vodka's flavor is to the real thing. This shot starts off very smooth, with a nice flavor. It's a little rough on the back end; not a vodka burn, and not a fruity flavor, just a little off. Thankfully, the sensation doesn't linger."

We decided that the blueberry vodka was a success, despite its shortcomings, and bottled it.

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The watermelon vodka had infused for 31 days as of this tasting. The flavor, though still not very strong, has intensified since the last tasting.

Wayland's reaction: "I think it's done. I don't know if we'll ever get a specific 'watermelon' flavor out of it, though it definitely has a general melon flavor. It's very smooth; it almost reminds me of Midori on a certain level, though this doesn't have the same twang."

Brendan's reaction: "The flavor is, like a watermelon fruit, light and sweet. It also has a tinge of sour, but it isn't enough to bother the overall taste. I don't think the flavor is strong enough to hold its own in a cocktail, though that remains to be seen. It is tasty on its own, though, and I don't think the flavor is going to get any stronger."

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The ginger vodka clocked in at 22 days as of the tasting, much closer to the lifespan our research stated it would take. At the previous tasting, you might recall, the infusion was only four days running.

Brendan's reaction: "The flavor is much stronger than last time. In fact, the taste is now stronger than the spice, to the point where the spice is almost hard to detect; though it certainly still exists. It's nice, but I think a little more time will make it even better."

Wayland's reaction: "It definitely has more flavor than last time. It's interesting; like the blueberry, though, I'm not sure how much exposure to ginger I've really had, other than ginger ale and gingerbread. The vodka has both a touch of spice and a touch of sweetness to it. I like it as it is, though I'll defer judgement to my fellow scientician on whether it needs more time."

We're giving the ginger vodka another week and re-sampling. This is the only experiment we sampled that wasn't ready for bottling.

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Our final tasting of the night was our vanilla-caramel vodka. It was a foregone conclusion that this one would be ready within a day or two after stage two, since there were no ingredients remaining to remove; we only needed to wait for the caramel cubes to dissolve. Whether the two flavors would marry successfully, however, was up for debate.

After taking his shot, a big grin crept across Wayland's face. "This is excellent. Other than a bit of overpowering vanilla aftertaste, I cannot complain about this vodka. It's smooth, creamy and sweet. Most of our cocktails require some sort of lower proof mixer to make them palatable, but I think this vodka could easily hold that position without lowering the proof of the drink. It's just that smooth."

Brendan's reaction: "I think we got the perfect balance here. The vanilla and caramel flavors are both distinctive, yet they support each other in a very pleasant way. There's not much of a front end/back end interplay, it's just the two flavors all at once, which subside to leave a slight vodka flavor behind, but no burn whatsoever."

The vanilla-caramel vodka was declared a rousing success, possibly one of our best yet.

As for the blog formatting, I feel like this post was a little formulaic; I'll keep tweaking things a bit, in hope of preserving clarity without sacrificing entertainment value. Feedback is always appreciated; here at Infusions of Grandeur, nothing is shielded from peer review.

Bam! Habanero vodka results

Today's post is dedicated to the loving memory of Don Herbert, a.k.a. Mr. Wizard.

After three days of infusion, our habanero vodka experiment was ready for tasting. We invited our friend Jason, a fellow capsaicin addict, to the lab to sample it with us.

A few things to keep in mind regarding this infusion:

• We have previously created jalapeño infused vodka. That infusion was fairly spicy on the back end, though not overwhelming.
  
• Habanero peppers are around 40 times hotter than jalapeños, according to the Scoville scale.
  
• We used four habanero peppers, as opposed to the two jalapeño peppers from the previous infusion.
  
• Both infusions ran for the same amount of time.

These factors should give you an indication of just how hot we were expecting this vodka to be. As much as we love spicy foods, the only one who was not at least little nervous about it was Jason.

It didn't seem fair to make anyone go first, so we poured three shots and sampled them all at once.



In the eloquent words of Professor Hubert Farnsworth, "Oh my, yes."

The vodka knocks you for a loop, but not maliciously. It's actually quite bearable, if you enjoy heat; though if you're not a fan of capsaicin, I would suggest steering clear. The heat is significantly more intense than the jalapeño vodka, hits more quickly (though not immediately) and sticks around longer. Beneath the heat, the vodka has a crisp, almost sweet flavor.

"It starts out pretty smooth," Wayland remarked. "Actually, for the first two seconds, it didn't seem like it was going to be spicy. Then it grows past mild to a pretty strong burning sensation." He added that you would pay the next morning if you had several shots.

We consider this experiment to be very much a success. We're excited about the possibilities for using the habanero vodka, though we have not created any cocktails (or marinades) with it as of yet.

More vodka tastings

Last night, we conducted our initial test of last week's ginger infused vodka experiment, as well as secondary and tertiary tests of our watermelon, blueberry, and almond vodkae.



I was looking forward to the ginger vodka, having received several favorable comments about other people's ginger infusions both on and off this site. I'm a fan of ginger in general, and it seemed to me that, unlike rosemary, it was likely to mingle well with the kick of vodka. So you can imagine my surprise when I tipped back my shot, and it tasted.... not right. There was no spice, and the flavor was way off, though I couldn't quite put my finger on how. I blinked a few times and tasted a little bit more, but it was no more enlightening than the first taste. How could this infusion have gone so wrong? What did we do? Was grating the ginger root the wrong approach? I began discussing my thoughts with Wayland.

"Dude," he said to me, "that was the almond vodka."

I stared blankly for a few beats.

"Oh. ...Well, in that case, it's pretty good."

Wayland took his sample, and we agreed (now that I knew what taste I was looking for) that the vodka tastes very much like almonds. It's very smooth, with almost no vodka burn. The almond vodka was finally a success, after 39 days of infusion - a new record, just beating coconut's 35 days. We bottled it, using a doubled-up layer of cheesecloth to catch some of the dust.

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After this debacle, I had to try the real ginger vodka next. Though we expected to reduce the infusion time by grating the ginger rather than slicing it, four days was not nearly enough. The vodka had attained some of the spice of the ginger, but almost none of the flavor. The vodka taste was mostly neutralized, however.

"It has a very slight ginger flavor on the back end," Wayland said, "but there's really not much there yet."

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The watermelon vodka was on Day 13 for our second tasting. The flavor has progressed since the previous sample, but I still didn't find it to be a very strong flavor. There was also a significant amount of vodka taste, but it's not harsh.

"It's definitely got a melon flavor, but it's not distinctive as watermelon," Wayland commented. "Fairly smooth, but with a slight burn." He added that he didn't expect to get much more flavor out of it, but I am still optimistic.

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The blueberry vodka, likewise, has attained more flavor than last week, but not very much. I found the blueberry taste to be overwhelmed by the vodka, with a very slow-acting vodka burn.

Wayland, on the other hand, tasted almost no vodka flavor. "It's definitely fruity, with a slight tang of sourness. I'm not big on it, but the true test is in the cocktail." Wayland felt that it might be ready for bottling, but I wanted to give it a little longer.

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But wait, there's more! While digging through our science fridge, we discovered an ancient treasure: our grape vodka. As you may recall, this vodka was declared a flop in its final test, not actually bad, but with very little flavor attained. We intended to bottle it and keep it as a backup to our non-infused vodka. However, we completely forgot about it, and left the jar of vodka and grapes in the back of a refrigerator shelf.

When we ended the experiment, the infusion had run 26 days, one of our longer infusions, though not quite in the league of almond or coconut. When we pulled it out yesterday, however, the infusion was a mind-boggling 75 days old. That's one-fifth of a year.

We should have poured it straight down the drain and never looked back, but if we did that, we would be failing our reputations as Mad Scienticians. We knew we had no choice but to taste it. This decision may have been influenced slightly by the previous four shots of vodka per man. "I can't believe we're drinking this," Wayland said. "Of course, it was my idea."

We poured two shots and drank. Wayland rather enjoyed it, describing it as "a sweet white wine flavor, like a Riesling."

What I tasted, however, was not so pleasant. It was bad, but it was an odd kind of bad, not horrifying at all. It was as if the flavor approached me, creeping up along a darkened path, with claws drawn and fangs dripping, then shouted "boo!" in an effeminate voice and skipped away.

We decided to bottle it. We're not sure what we'll end up doing with it, but we definitely want to get a third opinion before consigning it to its destiny.

Three more tastings and a cocktail

Last night, the Mad Scienticians conducted the first sampling of our watermelon vodka infusion, as well as repeated samplings of the blueberry and almond vodkae. The watermelon vodka experiment had only been ongoing for three days, we expected it to be a fairly quick infusion. As we expected, the vodka has drawn very little color from the fruit.



It turns out that the experiment will need more time than we had hoped. "It's got a watermelon flavor, but it's not strong enough," Wayland commented. "It's also got a bad aftertaste."

I didn't notice an aftertaste, other than the bite of the vodka. The watermelon is tasty on the front end, but it subsides quickly. We put this back to infuse for another week.

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The blueberry vodka has progressed a great deal since our previous sampling. Once the berry skins were broken up, they began to truly infuse. The vodka now has a deep purple color.



I found the blueberry flavor to be more pronounced, but it still had a strong vodka taste. Wayland said he hardly tasted any blueberry, and it was mostly vodka.

So, despite the strong coloration, this infusion still needs more time before the flavor is right.

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The almond vodka, which has been running for four weeks now, has also attained a darker color than it had last week.



"More almondy, very smooth," said Wayland. "Still, I'd like to give it a little longer."

I concurred with Wayland. Its almond flavor has grown stronger, but not as much as we would like. Alas, this experiment too will remain ongoing. We have high hopes that this one will be completed next week, though.

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Though all of the experiments we tested this week have been disappointments so far, we do have a cocktail recipe to make up for it, using the strawberry-vanilla vodka we completed last week.

Research Triangle Iced Tea

In a tall glass with ice, pour:
2 oz. Mad Scientician™ Strawberry-Vanilla vodka
One can (8.3 oz.) of Red Bull

This mix of flavors is oddly reminiscent of sweet iced tea, with a hint of strawberry. We named the drink in honor of our local area, the Research Triangle of North Carolina.

Brendan's score: 3 flasks out of 5
Wayland's score: 3 flasks out of 5
Overall score:

Vodka tasting extravaganza

Last night, we conducted taste tests of our three ongoing infused vodka experiments. We began with the most recent, strawberry-vanilla vodka, which had infused for five days.



As with our previous strawberry experiments, the vodka drew out most of the strawberries' color, leaving a bright red vodka and pinkish-white berry slices. The split vanilla bean had no noticeable effect on the color.

Since our strawberry vodka is easily masked in cocktails, we expected the vanilla flavor to slightly overpower the strawberry. In truth, the opposite occurred. "The strawberry flavor is even stronger than in the regular strawberry vodka," Wayland noted. "The vanilla is a little faint."

We think that the difference is in the quality of the strawberries. Since they are now in season, the berries are fresher and more flavorful than the ones we have used previously, leading to a stronger infusion. In fact, even the color is richer, seen in this side-by-side comparison of our previous batch of strawberry and the new strawberry-vanilla.



We considered letting it infuse longer, but since vanilla is a very time-sensitive infusible, we decided to err on the side of a lighter flavor than too strong of one.

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Next, we sampled the blueberry vodka, which has been ongoing for two weeks. The blueberries have imparted almost no color on the vodka.



Likewise, they have not imparted any flavor either. All of our early research stated that infused berries (excepting strawberries) should be left whole; however, this experiment, along with our grape vodka experiment, seem to disprove this hypothesis.

Rather than removing the blueberries and bruising them by hand, we decided it would be more efficient to haphazardly crush them in the jar. However, it took some trial and error to find the proper implement for the task. I began with a metal whisk.



The whisk was completely ineffective. The berries simply slipped between the wires, escaping any direct force. Next, I tried using the flat-ended handle of a plastic rice spoon.



This should have worked, but for one weakness: the handle wasn't long enough. The wide section stopped at the mouth of the jar, leaving a mere half inch of space under the handle, just enough for the berries to avoid damage.

Wayland then retrieved a long bread knife with two prongs on the end. This did the trick nicely.



The effectiveness of rupturing the blueberries was seen within moments, as the vodka began to attain a purple hue.



We'll try it again in a week, now that it is truly infusing.

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Lastly, we sampled the almond vodka experiment for the second time. This infusion has been running for three weeks. Similarly to the blueberry experiment, the almond vodka had little flavor in the first tasting, so we crushed the almonds a bit. That was about a week and a half ago. Now, the vodka is very cloudy, though much of this is dust that probably ought to be filtered out.



We chilled a sample and filtered it through cheesecloth before tasting. The flavor is much stronger now than it was previously, though it has yet to reach its full potential. We fear that this will be another long-term infusion, like the coconut vodka, but we will continue to sample it and keep you updated.