Latest news with #Frishkopf
Eater
09-06-2025
- Business
- Eater
Brandy From New York? This Upstate Distillery Is Counting on It.
Since the brandy distillery Klocke Estate opened last summer in Claverack, New York, the restaurant has been the draw. It's dazzling, situated on a hilltop above 160 acres of farmland, orchards, and vineyards. The seasonal American menu from chef Becky Kempter shows off leek croquettes, a spring cavatelli with ramps, asparagus, peas, and mains like roast chicken or lamb shank. Klocke deserves its spot among the handful of mid-Hudson Valley restaurants that are destinations. Of those, it's undoubtedly the most luxurious. In the dining room, chandeliers and floor-to-ceiling windows cast soft light over myriad textures: crushed velvet and William Morris-style floral designs on the walls, a marble fireplace with a Victorian tapestry hanging above, and exposed wood beams. Tables are situated around a custom glass cabinet in the middle of the room which displays co-owner John Frishkopf's library of brandies, Armagnacs, and Calvados. It's a lush setting to observe the sage-colored Catskills in the distance. Still, the restaurant, Frishkopf says, primarily serves to 'set the table for our brandy.' At the moment, brandy isn't flying off the shelves in the U.S, but Frishkop and his husband, Brett Mattingly, are playing a long game to establish regional brandy's preeminence. It already has provenance: Laird's Applejack in New Jersey, founded in 1780, is the very first distillery in the United States (It's also one of the few legacy brands today run by a woman.) And there's evidence that a man named Jakob Planck brought several stills from Holland to the northern Hudson Valley, around the time brandy was first being exported from Europe by Dutch fleets, in 1638. The state of brandy in the U.S. doesn't daunt the founders. 'Eventually, the brandy we make here in Claverack,' says Caleb Gregg, director of farming and production, 'will sit beside the world's great brandies, specifically Cognac caliber.' Frishkopf, a Boston native, was first inspired to make brandy on the plum and apricot orchards of friends' estates while based in Prague early in his finance career. Returning to the Northeast in his 60s, he wanted to make brandy commercially. The region is one of a few places, he says, where conditions for growing cider apples and grapes were always ideal— for brandy, not for wine. Brandy grapes are harvested earlier than wine grapes, when they have a sugar content (or brix) between 16 and 18 percent. That relatively low sugar produces an alcohol content between eight and ten percent after fermentation, ensuring it will be below 60 percent after distillation. Additionally, lower sugar levels result in higher tannin and acid content, according to Gregg, providing the necessary structure for brandy's prolonged aging process. In 2017, Frishkopf and Mattingly purchased the property. With the help of veteran distiller Dan Farber in California, Cornell University, and expert wine and apple farmers around New York State, they selected 43 varieties of organic cider apples and nine organic white grapes, all suited to the climate and terroir of the Hudson Valley. Mattingly, an MIT grad, raised on a family farm, designed a master plan for planting using a permaculture approach that weaves sustainability and self-sufficiency into the design. In 2020, the team planted the first trees and vines. Despite that most apple growing in the East has moved south due to risks like fireblight, the team remains committed to organic farming — with an eye to bring back cider apples that used to grow in the region for hundreds of years — with the help of old and new technology. They monitor digital wind, temperature, and sun on large flat screens. They implant organic bacteria cultures to battle fireblight, powdery and downy mildew, and other bacterial infections. They position black locusts posts where eagles and red-tailed hawks can sit and hunt larger pests, like voles. As of this writing, four successful grape and apple harvests have been pressed and fermented into wine and cider, and distilled in a copper Alembic Charentais still imported from Cognac. Right after distillation, the spirits are transferred to barrels made from aged French oak, where they will mature for another three to thirty years, depending on the batch. 'It takes patience,' according to Gregg. '...and we may find out, in 25 years, that the grapes we're growing are better suited for younger brandies, for example. That's the fun part.' Consumers might not try the estate's best brandies for decades. Perhaps they'll keep improving long after Frishkopf and Mattingly retire. With hope, they've invested in infrastructure that will outlast them — including the storage facility, the still, and above all, people like Gregg, who, in his late 20s, manages all aspects of brandy production. While customers wait for the first batch of brandy, Frishkopf sees his role as a teacher and host. In addition to the brandy library, they're also producing ready-to-drink vermouth. Klocke currently sells their white vermouth and sweet red vermouths under the Brevis label, three cocktails—an appletini, a brandy manhattan, and a brandy old-fashioned—three eau de vies, and what they call an unoaked brandy, or the Klocke Estate 00. Frishkopf says that their customers will be able to taste the evolution of their brandy over the years, which reinforces the time theme as the through line of the brand. Frishkopf points to the Dutch word for clock as inspiration for the name; the vermouth label Brevis, named after the Latin word for brief; and the ready-made cocktail label, Flyback, named after the term for when a chronograph returns to zero. During dinner service at Klocke, diners often catch magnificent sunsets. It quickly became a tradition for everyone to emerge onto the west-facing patio with their drinks for twenty minutes to stare toward the mountains where Rip Van Winkle mythically fell asleep for twenty years, across land that has fallen in and out of cultivation for generations. Often, the waitstaff and cooks join them, signaling there's no need to rush. Sign up for our newsletter.
The Guardian
09-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Skype shutdown surfaces sweet memories: ‘I proposed marriage'
Microsoft announced on the last day of February that it would sunset Skype. By the time the death knell tolled, the video chatting software that once revolutionized communications had become a ghost of its former self. Experts chimed in with half-hearted eulogies for the platform that Microsoft spent years neglecting, yet few were surprised, and even fewer shed tears. The Guardian's journalism is independent. We will earn a commission if you buy something through an affiliate link. Learn more. 'The fact that Skype was never integrated into any other Microsoft platform, nor redesigned to resemble other Microsoft solutions or included in any bundled commercial offerings – despite its loss of users – was a clear indication that Microsoft had long decided to discontinue the service,' said Gianvito Lanzolla, a professor of strategy, at University of London. But for Skype's long-suffering users, and those who stopped using it but still thought of it fondly, the coming demise of Skype – which will shut down on 5 May – is a moment worthy of acknowledgment. Skype was a reminder of a bygone era and a source of inspiration for many. It facilitated relationships across oceans when there were few affordable means of making international calls, nothing short of a miracle for those with family members in distant parts of the world. One nostalgic Guardian reader composed a song based on the familiar Skype ring. Michael Frishkopf, a professor at the University of Albert's department of music and the director of the Canadian Centre for Ethnomusicology, created a short symphonic work with the Skype theme song in 2020. It was 'originally for a film score (though it was never used in that way)', Frishkopf wrote in an email. 'Skype was always a tool for connecting out of isolation and it struck me that a lot of people probably associate it with being far from loved ones,' Frishkopf said. 'That Skype ring tone, I don't know who made it, but it has a kind of wistfulness to it. It isn't either major or minor, it could go either way. In the same way, it could sound happy or sad which could represent the sadness of longing for someone and the joy of connecting with them. That [Skype] is fading out for good, it might cause a sense of loss for people.' Sorry your browser does not support audio - but you can download here and listen $ Inspired by Frishkopf's email, the Guardian asked readers to share their own memories of Skype. What they described in touching tributes was a piece of technology that connected parents with their children, enabled start-up founders to communicate across oceans and timezones, and even made two proposals possible. When I had a mid-career shift, I used Skype extensively as a way to contact clients. That was 2019, and I was on the verge of working again. I spent ten years as a full-time mom, you see. Before I began working online, it felt impossible to be working and stay at home for my kids. You can say that Skype opened up a world of possibilities to me. – Melany Heger, Manila, Philippines I proposed to my Swedish husband over Skype using sticky notes. We got married on 5-5-15, the same day Skype will end its service. It's very sad, I especially liked it since it was from my husband's homeland of Sweden. Skype played a big part in our lives in keeping us connected while we were dating and it will always be in my heart. – Holly, Iowa I think we take for granted how revolutionary Skype was. A futurist utopia always included video calling, and that was ubiquitous by 2005 thanks to Skype. I proposed marriage through it to a long-distance girlfriend in 2008. We never got married, but our ill-fated engagement felt glorious for the weeks after, and memories of our multi-hour sessions still give me a sense of melancholy as strong as any other moments of lost young love. – Dave, Michigan My husband and I would never be married if we hadn't had Skype. We met in 2004 when he was on a year abroad from Colorado School of Mines to the University of Leeds. By the time I moved to the States and we got married in November 2009, we had racked up countless Skype hours at all times of the day and night. Skype allowed us to have a long distance relationship that would not have seemed possible if we were just a few years older. Skype also allowed me to see and chat with my parents after I had moved. Nowadays my children (11 and seven) cannot imagine a life without FaceTiming their grandparents, but so much of that is owed to mom and dad's early years of Skype dating! – Jessica, Colorado In 2004, I moved across the world to attend university in the United States. Phone calls were too expensive, so I would spend hours on Skype chatting with my family and friends back home. When we went around the dinner table saying what we were grateful for my first American Thanksgiving, Skype was my answer. Homesickness was my malady, Skype was my medicine. – Laura, Los Angeles My great-grandmother said the most important invention during her lifetime was the ability to fly internationally, delighting in the fact that she could journey from Australia by plane for her one and only 'grand European tour' in the 1960s, once all her children had grown. For my grandmother, who sadly passed in 2010, it was the invention of Skype. She had spent many years corresponding via a much-cherished weekly letter and annual phone call when her only sister moved to London and then New York during the 60s and 70s. So, you can imagine her delight when I made a similar move abroad in the 2000s that we could still see each other and talk via a video call during her final years. I cherish the memory of those Skype calls as much as the letters she wrote me. – Felix, Mexico When first arriving on these Japanese shores, calls to the US were prohibitively expensive. I used to write aerograms (light paper that could be folded into an envelope) to my parents. Then I had two children who dispersed, one to Tokyo, one to the US. We Skype regularly, though we also use Google Chat. As an expat, I have found Skype invaluable. It can be used as a verb – 'Let's Skype!' – and fulfills a sense of joy found on Christmas morning. I will miss it. Sign up to TechScape A weekly dive in to how technology is shaping our lives after newsletter promotion – William Baerg, Japan We are still using Skype on a weekly basis to talk to my husband's Nanna who is in her 90s. We started doing this in Covid and haven't stopped – Tuesday evening is family chat time. She gets to see her two great granddaughters this way. We think we can switch to Zoom but it's more awkward for her to use. – Alice, Hampshire Throughout his numerous 12-15 month military deployments that dotted my childhood, Skype (and later Skype-to-Go) was the most reliable way to have any sort of contact with my dad in between receiving hand written letters. – Veronica, Michigan I have been teaching Qur'an on Skype for the last nine years. I think there is no better app for teaching, especially because of the clarity of the voice in terms of teaching by sharing the page. – Ghulam Asghar Awan, Pakistan During the pandemic, I did online teaching via Skype. One of my students was a single child, alone at home. She was around 10 when I first taught her. Now when all school was online, she was obviously very happy to have a teacher just for herself. She didn't learn much, because she interrupted me all the time, just wanting to talk to somebody. Bella, you still have a very special place in my heart! I'll never forget you! – Friedrich Helmke, Brazil The person with whom I used Skype the most and used it last was my friend Harald. I live in Wisconsin and work at the university in Madison. Harald was from Germany but did a postdoctoral fellowship in Madison in the early 2000s. We became friends while he was here, and interestingly, we grew much closer after he moved back to Germany. We would get together before or after conferences and do bike trips together, and we visited each other many times over the years. Harald's preferred way of communicating when we were on opposite sides of the world was by Skype. He'd use it as a verb. 'Let's Skype next Tuesday,' he'd say to me. I would often tease him as new platforms became popular that he was wedded to this outdated mode of communication. He died about two years ago, and I miss him terribly. And anytime I hear about Skype I think of him. – Matthew, Wisconsin Our startup, which has helped hundreds of thousands of people access scientific research, only exists because of Skype. We wrote the seeds of the project at an all-night hackathon in 2011, in person, but the two of us lived in different countries and three time zones apart – would this thing fizzle or bloom? Over the next few years we talked on Skype every evening to improve the product, get funded, incorporate and grow. Skype saw our grit, tears and laughter. The result was Unpaywall, OpenAlex, improved open science, and wonderful memories. Thank you, Skype. – Heather Piwowar, Vancouver, Canada Skype was the first of the video calling services. That said, it was absolutely rubbish, and I dropped it like a stone as soon as anything close to a viable alternative arrived. It's bloated, resource-hogging, unintuitive interface lives on in Teams and is vastly improved upon by services like Discord. I'm thankful for it breaking new ground, but am more thankful we've gone a lot further from where we started. – Seth, Cambridge, UK
