Evoke the true rustic spirit of Autumn by sampling our refreshing new cocktail: the Wicked Pumpkin Head.
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
So begins Keats’ ode to the cosiest month of all – Autumn. It’s no wonder that the season of Autumn has inspired so many poems. The crisp loveliness of the season puts us all into a reflective mood as we watch the leaves change colours and drift down to earth.
In Ireland it’s no different; even though our Autumns are a tad more rainy than those elsewhere, we still get to experience the existential beauty of a true Autumn. Whether you’re encountering Autumn in the city or the countryside, Ireland’s diverse landscapes and natural beauty have the capacity to amaze.
We crafted our flavoursome Wicked Pumpkin Head cocktail to keep you warm and cosy as you contemplate the wonders of nature playing out before you. The drink is created with three simple yet indispensable and delicious ingredients – Woodford Reserve Bourbon, apricot brandy, and spicey pumpkin purée.
Woodford Reserve Bourbon isn’t just any bourbon. This clear, amber-coloured spirit is replete with complex citrus, cinnamon, and cocoa notes which are in turn highlighted by toffee, caramel, chocolate, and spice flavours to create a truly memorable composition. To balance this melange of flavours, we then delicately swirl rich apricot brandy into the concoction. The apricot brandy gives the cocktail a mellow, fruity undertone which fully complements the spice of the bourbon.
The finishing touch is a final addition of our homemade spicy pumpkin purée. If you have ever enjoyed a pumpkin pie on a cool Autumnal day, you know the sort of deep, visceral comfort a handmade pumpkin purée can create. Our pumpkin purée offsets the sweetness of the apricot and adds a toasty richness to the drink.
To complete the Morelands Grill recipe for a perfect Autumnal evening, add a cheese board or baked apple tart tartin to the evening’s entertainment and settle down for a lovely moment of indulgence, reflection, and appreciation of nature’s beauty. To end where we started, here is the final stanza of Keats’ “To Autumn”:
Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.