If it’s not clear what I’m referring to, have a little light reading. In short, the actual Master Cleanse is a terribly unwise thing that people do to cleanse their body of alleged toxins and impurities by, as mentioned, starving themselves and pooping a lot. My professional opinion as a medical doctor is that this whole thing is a load of—to use the technical term—hooey. Sounds terribly unhealthy! Not at all like my favorite healthy activity: drinking!

I always did find the sound of mixture of maple syrup, lemon juice, and cayenne pepper to be appealing, though. It sounds like a pleasant treat, but since I’m fond of the bacteria in my intestinal tract, I never bothered to sample anything like it. That was until I bought Sortilège Maple Syrup and Whisky Liqueur. It was one of those impulse purchases in the liquor store, when you spend a while staring at the various liqueurs and going, my god! Dill liqueur? Pine eau de vie! Maple Liqueur sounded just crazy enough to work, and I bought it without really having a grand plan of what to use it in. And then I remembered the Cleanse and got to formulating.

All the refreshing flavor with none of the presumed health benefits! Behold, the Master Cleanse:

Ingredients:
2 oz Sortilège Maple Liqueur
3 oz lemonade or sparkling lemonade
several dashes cayenne pepper

Put ice in a glass, put the ingredients in that glass, stir, and serve. It’s sweet and tart and a little spicy (or a lot, depending on how heavy handed you are with cayenne). And best of all, it is absolutely, positively, not good for you at all. Unless we mean spiritually.

Angel’s Hope

Ingredients
1 part gin
1 part calvados
1 part orange liqueur

For this drink, I used Hendrick’s Gin, Christian Drouain Calvados, and Grand Marnier. In an earlier incarnation I also tried a cheaper triple sec, and found it somewhat cheapened the overall drink. It’s entirely true: quality components make for a quality cocktail.

In a shaker filled with ice, combine all ingredients. Shake well, then strain into a cocktail glass. Enjoy! This drink is a lovely balance of spicy and sweet, and with Hendrick’s in particular, has a wonderful floral undernote.

I do not think I have ever, in my entire life, spelled the word “liqueur” right on the first try. So I warn for this entry: beware of falling q’s, u’s, and e’s.

Mathilde Poires Liqueur is a little too heavy and sweet for me to enjoy on its own, except for in the tiniest of sips. It’s thick and syrupy, but not quite cloying, and has a really true pear taste. What do I do with it? Well, going with the theme that I am not always the classiest of drinkers, I have, in the past, spent a couple of lost weekends with a box of chardonnay, sassing it up with sprinkles of Mathilde Poires, or Mathilde Framboise (and I think at least once I found a bottle of Mathilde Pêche). The combination turns mediocre wine into something a little more fun.

An even better combination is Mathilde Poires with something a little more bubbly. Recently I had another few bottles of the Reserva Ora Cavas Hill Blanc de Blancs Cava with the Poires mixed in, and that was a fine combination indeed. Since the bubbly itself had little in the way of sweetness, the resulting cocktail was very refreshing and perfectly sweet.

I could also envision Mathilde Poires mixed with something more neutral, like soda water, and of course, the classic indulgence: drizzled over ice cream. Mmmm.

BUY IT AGAIN: Yes, for a lovely sweet treat.