Every spring in Washington, a pink plague descends.
Well before the buds of the famed cherry blossoms peek out, restaurants begin rustling up their annual barrage of cocktails, desserts and other items that bear the flowers’ theme — and, typically, their signature color. Publicists pitch special menus as relentlessly as Josiah Gray slinging strikes.
Now, I had planned to write an unqualified rant about this phenomenon. Specifically, I am annoyed by how so many of these special, Pepto-Bismol-hued concoctions are actually flavored with cherry, when the trees they ostensibly celebrate do not produce fruit. In other words, “cherry blossom”-flavored items that taste like cherries are the vernal version of the much-derided pumpkin spice, which usually doesn’t taste at all like pumpkin. (Starbucks, which originally inflicted the autumnal flavor on humanity back in 2003, added a small amount of real pumpkin puree to its signature lattes in 2015 only after being teased for so long about the omission.)
Advertisement
The cherry/cherry blossom conflation is something that has long irritated persnickety Washingtonians who like to pick meaningless anthills to die on, a club of which I typically count myself as a proud member (we never actually meet, we just annoy the people we live with). A topic for another day’s Seinfeldian rumination: The cherry has been named Washington’s official fruit.
But recall that I wrote in the past tense about my idea for an anti-cherry blossom screed? After attempting to work myself up — including by inhaling a few of the town’s sugary-pink confections — it turns out, I just didn’t have it in me.
For starters, creative chefs and mixologists around town are increasingly incorporating the flavors of real sakura — that is, the actual cherry blossoms, which have a mild, delicately floral taste — in their seasonal specials, which speaks to the spirit of the cherry blossoms lining the Tidal Basin that celebrate America’s ties to Japan.
Share this articleShareAt Silver Lyan, the high-end cocktail bar inside Riggs hotel, there’s the Sakura Silver Service, which includes Roku gin, Haku vodka and sakura vermouth. José Andrés’s China Chilcano is stirring several drinks that incorporate the flower, including a pisco sour set off by sakura bitters. And at Nama Ko, the blossom can be found in food (sakura-smoked katsuo bonito sashimi) and beverages (such as a sakura-smoked Old-Fashioned).
To learn more about the distinctive flavor, I spoke to Yuki Sugiyama, the second secretary in the public affairs section of the Japanese Embassy in Washington, who noted that the blossoms are often served in Japan packed in salt. The variety most used for the edible flowers can be found in Washington, but Sugiyama warns against would-be urban foragers. “I hope people do not pick the flowers here in D.C.!” he said. Sakura mochi, a kind of rice cake, are often used as part of celebratory meals in Japan, he said.
Yes, here in the States, there are some truly unpleasant foodstuffs under the cherry blossom banner. LaCroix water promises “a botanical twist of sweet and tart, the dazzling taste of blossoming Spring!” according to the company’s website, and instead delivers a mouthful of fizz that’s strangely redolent of fudge.
But there are plenty of good iterations — once you overlook the semantics. After all, who could be mad at a cherry-filled doughnut, I asked myself as I munched on the tart-fruit version from local chain Astro Doughnuts? And, sure, the quaff from Alexandria’s Lost Boy Cider whose can is strewn with petals doesn’t contain cherry blossom. But its hint of cherry and, interestingly, jasmine flower gives it a soft, floral-fruity profile.
Advertisement
Another reason I couldn’t summon much bubble-gum-hued rage from within my soul has something to do with the state of the city’s restaurants. So many of them are dealing with rising costs and the shifting behaviors of diners. Cherry blossom season, with the thousands of tourists who stream into the city to marvel at the flowery wonderland, is one of the biggest annual boosts to the hospitality industry.
Now, even though I’m giving the annual wave of cherry blossom impostors a pass, I will still forever and always roll my eyes at the goofy, overly clever political cocktail specials that my fair city’s drinking establishments dream up whenever there’s a notable news event emanating from those marble buildings. These, fellow Washingtonians, are the real unforgivables. You can take those “Essential Worker” Bellinis that crop up whenever there’s a government shutdown looming (that is, nearly constantly) and “Moscow Muellers” (remember them?) and stick them in your blossom.
ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7uK3SoaCnn6Sku7G70q1lnKedZLGkecydZK%2BZX2d9c4COaWpoamFksKmx0auwZpqcpMC0u8xmnaWZpqS%2FbrDCaA%3D%3D