Because of the cocksucking Baptists, it is against the law to sell liquor, beer, and wine on Sundays in Georgia at grocery and package stores. Strangely, residents of the Peach State can order all the overpriced beers, wines, or cocktails they want at restaurants. Since I firmly believe in sticking it to Big Brother, we here at the Prizzo Skeezy will now be drinking every Sunday and writing about it. More specifically, I will be drinking sours. At their most basic, sours are a base liquor (e.g. whiskey), sugar (generally in the form of simple syrup), and citrus (usually lemon). The first sour I am reporting on smashes that simple template to pieces, but I had a hankering to use the Marie Brizard Peach Liqueur I scored at Tower* in Buckhead**

First up on our new Sunday Sours feature is the Delicious Sour. My father has a theory that advertisers play up the weaknesses of a product (e.g. handwriting recognition of the Apple Newton or reliability of Chrysler products) to trick suckers the public into purchasing them. So I was expecting the Delicious Sour to be anything but.

Unlike most sours, the Delicious Sour adds a generous slug of peach brandy to the base spirit, which is Applejack. The Delicious Sour starts with sharp notes of lime. Then the peach takes control and fades to apple, with some peach overtones remaining. This is a very pleasing drink, with the sweetness of peach brandy nicely balanced by the lime. I would not recommend substituting Calvados in place of the Applejack in this concoction, as the more mellow French eau-de-vie would be destroyed by the peach brandy and lime.

notes:

* While Green’s is my go to liquor store, they have been pissing me off recently. Their first offense is stocking crap beers like Duck Rabbit’s Ass or some such nonsense instead of devoting shelf space to quality brews like Hooker IPA. The second offense, and the one relevant to this post, is their current lack of Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur, which precipitated my trip to Tower.
** Buckhead is by far the most dangerous section of Atlanta. I live in the motherfuckin’ SWATS and when I venture to Buckhead, I roll with an Uzi toting homeboy riding shotgun and a couple of maleantes with AK-47s in the back seat. Even with that much firepower, I always feel lucky to make it out of Buckhead alive.