The brisk fall-like weather we’ve been having here in Chicago has triggered a craving – a craving for hard cider. Now those who know me will wonder how this craving is different than my normal craving for hard cider that I have in the summer… spring… winter…. To these inquisitors, I have only one thing to say: Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There is not one tiny bit of difference, but I needed a lead in for this article and I chose to do the seasonal thing.
Writing article after article on the glory of hard cider won’t be too interesting but I just happened to hear a song this weekend that made me think of something. There is an old Irish drinking song called Johnny Jump Up.
I’ll tell you a story that happened to me
One day as I went down to Cork by the sea
The sun it was hot and the day it was warm,
Says I a quiet pint wouldn’t do me no harm
I went in and I called for a bottle of stout
Says the barman, I’m sorry, all the beer is sold out
Try whiskey or paddy, ten years in the wood
Says I, I’ll try cider, I’ve heard it was good.
Oh never, Oh never, Oh never again
If I live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten
I fell to the ground and I couldn’t get up
After drinking a quart of the Johnny Jump Up
After downing the third I went out to the yard
Where I bumped into Brody, the big civic guard
Come here to me boy, don’t you know I’m the law?
Well, I up with me fist and I shattered his jaw
He fell to the ground with his knees doubled up
But it wasn’t I hit him, ’twas Johnny Jump Up
The next thing I remember down in Cork by the sea
Was a cripple on crutches and says he to me
I’m afraid of me life I’ll be hit by a car
Won’t you help me across to the Celtic Knot Bar?
After downing a quart of that cider so sweet
He threw down his crutches and danced on his feet
I went up the lee road, a friend for to see
They call it the madhouse in Cork by the Sea
But when I got there, sure the truth I will tell,
They had this poor bugger locked up in a cell
Said the guard, testing him, say these words if you can,
“Around the rugged rock the ragged rascal ran”
Tell him I’m not crazy, tell him I’m not mad
It was only a sip of the bottle I had
Well, a man died in the mines by the name of McNabb
They washed him and laid him outside on the slab
And after the parlors measurements did take
His wife brought him home to a bloody fine wake
‘Twas about 12 o’clock and the beer was high
The corpse sits up and says with a sigh
I can’t get to heaven, they won’t let me up
’Til I bring them a quart of the Johnny Jump Up
So if ever you go down to Cork by the sea
Stay out of the ale house and take it from me
If you want to stay sane don’t you dare take a sup
Of that devil drink cider called Johnny Jump Up

See this all comes from a time in Ireland when there wasn’t enough wood to make casks for whisky and casks for cider. So they took the old whisky casks and used them for cider. When whisky ages in a barrel, a significant amount of whisky is absorbed by the wood. Some of the whisky that was absorbed by the cask was released into the cider, giving it quite a wallop to those who were accustomed to the more gentle regular hard cider.
While I could easily present a cocktail that adds a shot of Irish whisky to a pint of cider, I decided that since this is National Bourbon Month according to the U.S. Congress, I should Americanize this concept.
Since I don’t have a keg of cider to pour a proper draught, I grabbed a bottle of ever-present cider from my fridge. I like all types, but this time around I had Woodchuck Cider. Woodchuck Cider is, in my opinion, one of the best American ciders. At some other time I will write about the virtues of cider, but for know, any type of hard cider is acceptable for this cocktail. For the bourbon, I chose Knob Creek. Knob Creek has a complimentary flavor that enhances the cider tremendously. I kept the ratio very simple, one bottle of cider and one shot of Knob Creek.
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