/ the drink
Eleven pomegranates a litre. Deep, tannic and genuinely dangerous on a white shirt.
Ember is the most expensive bottle on the shelf and the one we lose money on most often. Pomegranate yields badly, stains everything it touches, and arrives in a two-month window we cannot move. We keep it because nothing else tastes like it.
The blood orange is not decoration. Pomegranate on its own is astringent enough to dry your mouth out; the orange gives it somewhere to land.
What is inside
Arils only, separated by hand in the cold room. Pressing the pith turns the whole batch bitter within minutes.
Tarocco, when the season allows. Otherwise ordinary blood orange and a little more lemon.
A splash of beetroot for depth. You will not taste it; you would notice if it were gone.
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