Luxardo Maraschino Cherries

Since 1821 -- these are some old ass cherries.

My impulse buys are, for the most part, food related. I know people generally purchase things on a whim for reasons like undue stress or lack of control.  But I’d like to think that my habits are not triggered by negativity. Instead, I prefer to attribute my spontaneous card swiping episodes to inspiration.

They're so much darker than the bright red cherries you see on ice cream sundaes at the diner.

The spark of inspiration whets our appetites. It breathes us to life. And for passionate people, this hunger is impossible to ignore. But thankfully, it’s easy to satisfy.

Inspiration is one of my favorite words, for a somewhat nerdy reason.

A word containing the root -spire- (from the Latin spirare – to blow; to breathe) usually indicates that something’s moving. In perspiration, we purge our sweat. In aspiration, we project our desires. But in inspiration… something invades our psyche and arouses us to act.

So during an all too brief, alcohol fueled rendezvous — with some of the funnest girls in the world, I might add — at Elsa, I became completely enamored by this:

My taste buds went wild with lust.

These are what maraschino cherries used to be in the US until about 1920, when Americans started bastardizing this sexy cocktail garnish in pursuit of a more cost effective way to preserve cherries. Prior to that, there was a standard of identity regarding maraschino cherries: “marasca cherries preserved in maraschino [liqueur].” There was even a law that mandated the bright red marbles be explicitly labeled “Imitation Maraschino Cherries.”

It’s unclear to me why the FDA revised its definition of maraschino cherries to include the plasticky stuff, but I’ll bet it had something to do with big business cracking its whip.

Unfortunately, this meticulous arranged mountain of cherries did not last long after the picture was taken.

The cherries are texturally smooth and slightly waxy. Marasca cherries are dry, tart, and slightly bitter so when they are candied in this fashion, the taste and mouth feel are very reminiscent of a fruity piece of chocolate. It’s pretty awesome. And to cap it off, the almond-like flavors (which are extracted from the cherry stones when making Maraschino liqueur) deliciously numb out my tongue on the finish. :3

This almond-like flavor is also the main reason why discerning chefs don’t pit their cherries when making clafoutis. Again, it’s pretty awesome.

It’s amusing how absorbed I can become over a simple thing like this. These babies are going to be going through a lot of experimentation in the immediate future. I may just throw a handful in the freezer, hopefully transforming them into mini truffles of cherry sorbet.