Born in a Prohibition-era bar in Havana, christened with the establishment’s name (along with a close relative, the Floridita Daiquiri), witness to a thousand awkward moments as Hemingway mumbled nearby over his Papa Dobles, the Floridita happens to be one of the most counter-intuitive, paradigm-shifting drinks I can think of. It also happens to be incredibly delicious.
- 1 1/2 ounces white rum
- 1/2 ounce lime juice
- 1/2 ounce sweet vermouth
- 1 dash grenadine
- 1 dash white creme de cacao
Shake with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass.
While the Floridita is suave and mysterious in the glass and surprising to the palate, it’s also–and there’s no gentle way to put this–quite easy to fuck up. When mixing these, precise measurement is essential, especially when it comes to the dashes–DASHES, mind you, not splashes!–of grenadine and creme de cacao. A cavalier attitude around the cocktail shaker will give you a glass of sweet, weird-tasting goo; take a little time and give it some attention, however, and you’ll wind up with an incredibly complex drink–the sour citrus first on the palate, giving way to the depth of the rum and sweet florals of vermouth, and finishing with the deep, gentle hint of fruit and chocolate. Impress your friends, or just yourself–this one is worth the work.
Technorati tag: cocktails