Growing up in South Florida, autumn was a mysterious season. There was an understanding that leaves somehow changed color, and that people might wear sweaters. The smell of smoke in the breeze was something we understood, but in our case, it wasn’t living-room fireplaces or weekend bonfires – it was burning cane fields in the sugar farms out west. Pumpkins that would be carved into jack-o-lanterns were trucked to grocery stores just like Christmas trees were, and bobbing for apples was as exotic as wearing a crown of candles for St. Lucia’s Day. We somehow understood, despite not really having an autumn fall, that fall had a distinct flavor.
This was before the rise of pumpkin-spice everything, which is really, as mentioned in a previous column, Colonial-era-spiced-rum everything. Before Starbucks, we got our seasonal trends via telepathy, or perhaps through the equally inexplicable magic of a functioning society. Either way, it was a mystery. Summer vacation ended, and within weeks, we found ourselves, between applications of Off and sunscreen, craving pumpkin pie and apple cider, even though it was still too hot for sweaters. “Anemoia” is a word that means “nostalgia for a past that never existed.” Northerners and recent transplants can yearn for the Octobers they once knew, but the homegrown Biscayne tippler knows the sweeter, spicier longing for a fall that never was.
Luckily, there are ways to bottle an autumnal anemoia, and some of Miami’s best bartenders pour it deliciously, with apples and pumpkins aplenty.
FLAVORS WORTH FALLING FOR
Take, for a first example, The Gibson Room, the quirky Shenandoah lounge that recently earned a nod from the Michelin Guide. Bar manager Phil Banach consciously worked the feeling of times past into an apple-infused cocktail for the season: The Victorian Old Fashioned.
“Being a Prohibition-style bar, I was inspired by warmer flavors like the ones I’m used to up north,” Banach said. “This one came about from a Victorian apple pie being reworked into an old-fashioned format.”
The cocktail is served the old-fashioned way by mixing an ounce of bourbon, an ounce of Laird’s apple brandy, and half an ounce of cinnamon-clove syrup with both Angostura and orange bitters, garnished with a brandied cherry and an orange peel. It’s not piping hot, but it definitely warms the heart.
There’s a similar warmth poured at Bal Harbour’s Mediterranean restaurant Aba, but with a different classic cocktail – a negroni built from Bar Hill Tomcat gin – that’s been reimagined with a different fall fruit.
“The Spiced Pear Negroni pairs well with flavors found throughout our fall menu,” said Aba’s general manager Steven Rosenblum. “Compared to using Campari in a traditional negroni, we opt to use Lofi Amaro and Averna for an additional level of sweetness and depth. The St. George spiced pear liqueur provides the familiar notes of cinnamon, clove, and baking spices to round out the autumnal profile.”
American Social, on the other side of downtown, takes the opposite approach to the season with its Manzana Martini. This drink is all about apples, sans spice, made with Crisp Apple Reàl puree-infused syrup and brown sugar simple syrup balancing out a blend of Don Fulano Blanco tequila tarted up with green apple liqueur and a dash of lemon juice.
A PUNCH OF PUMPKIN
On the 25th floor of Hotel AKA Brickell, Chef David Myers’ Mediterranean restaurant, Adrift Mare, is pouring on the autumnal cheer with the Pumpkin Killer. Don’t be nervous; it’s a version of a classic painkiller with pumpkin cordial taking the place of the pineapple and orange juices, alongside aged rum, Disaronno amaretto, coconut, and, for a velvety mouthfeel, aquafaba.
Across town, the Arlo Wynwood abides with a pumpkin-enriched take on yet another classic cocktail. Head bartender Emmanuel Navedo says the Pumpkin Spiced Latte combines that seasonal flavor “with the timeless charm of a classic white Russian.” It’s more complicated than The Dude’s simple dairy drink, however, relying on the right proportions of vodka, pumpkin reduction, coconut cream, and coffee liqueur, garnished with homemade cinnamon sugar and pumpkin seeds to really bring home its seasonality.
You can find it, for now, at all of Arlo’s hotel outlets: the Lobby Bar, the third-floor Higher Ground, and the rooftop pool deck ART Wynwood.
IT’S THE CALABAZA GRANDE, CHARLIE BROWN
One thing that may be poured somewhere in South Florida (although finding it might take more research acumen than this cocktail columnist has managed to muster) is a particular autumn cocktail that really brings the season home to this region, at least in name. The Great Calabaza, a creation of seasonally appropriate cocktail wizard Autumn Giles, gets its name from the pumpkin’s Caribbean cousin, the calabaza, a gourd you can find in most South Florida groceries most of the year.
It gets its kick from smoky mezcal joven, seasoned with a few tablespoons of pumpkin butter, mixed with orange and lime juice, and served in a glass with a rim encrusted in a mixture of salt and five-spice powder. Think of a margarita, but made for autumn in the islands, with a surprising balance of sweet, spicy, and earthy.
It’s not the kind of cocktail you’d walk into any bar and order, unless you happen to carry your own stash of five-spice and pumpkin butter. (No judgment.) But if you imagine yourself in that perfect autumn, the one that never was, maybe you’ll start to remember how it tasted back then. Ah, anemoia – the real reason for a Floridian fall.
(Nicolás Antonio Jiménez/Ariete Hospitality Group. )
Philip Banach was inspired by a classic apple pie to create the Victorian Old Fashioned at The Gibson Room.
Grant Balfour is a Miami Beach native, writer, editor, traveler, musician, bon vivant and our official Biscayne Tippler.