The North Delta is a flat expanse of a place that seems to go on forever. Indeed, only a few generations ago the entire place was a swamp bottom and if not for the intervention of man, or perhaps you’d call it invention, or perhaps still, greed, the land would still be mostly underwater for the better part of the year. But with clear-cutting and drainage districts, the area is home to some of the most fertile soil on the planet and in the warm months it explodes in a riotous sea of green. Yet as the weather cools and the harvest comes, and as the fields and their crops dry they are brought in to be offloaded into glinting stories-tall silos, and further dried. The fields where they came from are burned, and the entire expanse of the place is overcome with the smells of sweet grain, butter, smoke.
So from my porch in the delta as the silos whir in the background, to a glass wherever you are, I offer the following Autumn cocktails.
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