Apfelschorle

Apfelschorle has no feast day because it belongs to the ordinary table. It is the glass beside a weeknight supper, the bottle in a school bag, the picnic drink, the thing you order in a beer garden when you want your head clear. A Schorle is juice cut with sparkling water, and this one is strongest wherever apples and mineral water are close: Hesse, Baden, Swabia, the Rhineland. Still, every German household knows it.

Im Norden anders, im Süden anders. In the north you meet it leaner, often more Sprudel than juice and sometimes clear; in the south and the apple country I want naturtrüb, cloudy apple juice, because it tastes of the press and not only of sugar. Around Frankfurt the grown-up cousin is Apfelwein sauer gespritzt, apple wine cut with mineral water, but this glass stays clean and cold. Das ist kein Bierzelt.

The technique is simple and easy to ruin: chill both parts and mix at the last moment. Cold liquid holds the bubbles; warm juice drives them off and leaves you with sweet apple water. Nicht aus dem Glas, and for this drink I mean the bought bottle too. Two cold bottles on the table beat a factory-mixed Apfelschorle because the bubbles are still alive and the ratio is yours.

The larder logic is old enough: apples pressed in autumn, kept as juice, then lightened with water when the weather turns warm or the meal is quick. Das braucht seine Zeit only in the refrigerator. After that, five minutes.