The next Mixology Monday is scheduled for September 15. Hosting this round will be Joe and Dinah (aka Metagrrrl) at Bibulo.us, and this history-minded couple has selected 19th Century Cocktails as the theme. Sounds pretty straightforward, so start dusting off your crustas and pondering your cobblers and other old-school drinks, and keep an eye out at Bibulo.us for further details.
While I was working up my presentation for the “Cocktails With a Kick: Absinthe Returns to America” session at Tales of the Cocktail, I embarked on an extended search through old bar guides in search of attractive — and repulsive — cocktails of yore that featured the old savage green stuff. Starting sometime in the 1870s or thereabouts, absinthe started cropping up in a number of different cocktails, ranging from simple preparations such as the Absinthe Frappe or Absinthe Cocktail, to its use as a seasoning ingredient in innumerable drinks such as our old friend the Sazerac.
All was to be expected until I started digging deeper into the drinks of William Schmidt. (This photo-of-a-photo of Schmidt was taken at the Museum of the American Cocktail, and was kindly provided by Dinah Sanders.) A famed bartender close to Jerry Thomas’ era, “The Only William” penned a number of distinctive drink recipes that called for absinthe in The Flowing Bowl: When and What to Drink, first published in 1891 (you can purchase a 2007 reprint version here
Here’s one that works. For the last year or so, I’ve been a sucker for sherry in cocktails, and one of my favorite warm-weather drinks this summer has been the Sherry Cobbler (which I’ve somehow neglected to blog about, along with about 6,870 other things). The Anticipation matches sherry with vino vermouth, then incorporates absinthe in just a dash, with a little sugar to make it all appealing.
For my version, I used Carpano Antica Formula vermouth, which has a strong flavor particularly well-suited to cocktails that need a robust vermouthy zoom and a gentle bitterness. I also used Hidalgo Amontillado for the sherry, thinking that its dry, delicate richness would pair well with the vermouth; I’m willing to wager a nice Oloroso would also work wonderfully, whereas a Manzanilla or Fino could give the drink a nice crispness. Plenty of room to explore.
And explore I will: I really enjoyed the Anticipation; the nuttiness of the sherry nestled right into the sweet/bitter balance of the vermouth, and the absinthe served as seasoning: lending the aroma a gentle anise note, and functioning on the palate as a flavor enhancer without taking over the drink. Flavorful, aromatic and resolutely old school, the Anticipation also clocks in a bit lower on the alcohol scale — an oddity in the absinthe cocktail world, but a welcome diversion for times when you’re looking for a gentle nip, or for those late evenings when you’re not ready to leave the bar but don’t need another wallop of alcohol.
Anticipation
- 1 1/2 ounces sherry
- 1 1/2 ounces sweet vermouth
- 2 dashes simple syrup
- 1 dash absinthe
Stir well with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.
It’s mid-August, and I’m beat. I’m heading out on vacation for the next week or so, with a little detour through Portland on August 23 & 24 for the Great American Distiller’s Festival. If you’re in Portland for the event, please be sure to find me and say hi.
If you’re looking for new posts, though, keep an eye on Serious Eats, where my usual Wednesday and Friday columns should appear.
I’ll be back here August 25, tanned, rested and ready. Until then–
In today’s San Francisco Chronicle, the editors allow me to indulge my ongoing OCD issues with vermouth:
The Truth About Vermouth
The secret ingredient in today’s top cocktails remains misunderstood
Then, as an extra treat, swing over to the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, where Leslie Kelly’s piece on summer cocktails works in a reference (and a hotlink! hot damn!) to this site, in the context of talking about the Hemingway Daiquiri. Note: the guy in the photo mixing up a Hemingway Daiquiri isn’t me; that’s Keith Waldbauer. I’m nowhere near that ugly. teen public nudity – accidental public nudity. bizarre toying: busty girls toying and squirting. forced to suck cock videos – women forced strip humiliated video.
The subhead to this post should be: “Yes, it’s another PNW Blackberry drink.”
But what do you expect? The theme for this month’s Mixology Monday is “Local Flavor,” (selected by our host this month, Kevin at Save the Drinkers), and it’s the Pacific Northwest in late summer. Short of distilling down a Douglas fir — oh, wait, that’s been done — if you need a local ingredient around here, you need look no further than the blackberry. (Of course, I could have turned to other ingredients evocative of Seattle, but a drink mixed with over-roasted coffee and hyper-hopped beer with a muddled chunk of smoked salmon just ain’t in my future. Sure, it’ll be on some promo menu at Bite of Seattle or something, but not here.)
While there are native varieties, the Himalayan blackberry is the most prevalent in these parts — so much so that it’s considered a noxious weed. Given the right mix of climate and disturbed soil, blackberry brambles consume Seattle real estate faster than the nouveau riche, springing up with such unabashed greed for new neighborhoods that they make even condo developers blanch.
This is the way I was thinking this past weekend, as I, like seemingly many other booze-bloggers in the region (with the exception of displaced Canadians), sauntered out in pursuit of some bramble-fruit. That’s where things went south: given the lousy luck with weather we’ve had the past six months or so, the berries on the bushes look green, knobby and angry, as if they’re daring you to pluck them and pop them in your mouth so they can strangle you with an astringent wallop that’ll put you in full-body pucker for the better part of a week. The farmer’s market wasn’t much better: while I scored some decent raspberries, the blackberries looked bloated and flaccid, and promised to be about as appetizing as watching a peanut butter-smeared late-career Elvis try to haul himself out of a beanbag chair.
Remembering what great things they’re doing with freezers nowadays, I picked up some frozen blackberries (after confirming that they’re at least from Washington state) and a bottle of vinegar and headed home to make some shrub.
Yes, I’m late to this one, but with good reason: last year, when Rick and Gabriel (who otherwise typically detests complex ingredients — c’mon, you didn’t think I’d let that slip by, did you?) and everyone else was going on and on about their homemade shrubs, I could simply head downtown and step into Vessel, where Jamie was doing all the work for me, even making up drinks with all my favorite ingredients that featured his homemade shrub.
This year, however, is different: Jamie’s moved on, and Zane is too busy talking smack about me to my friends to start naming drinks after me (or so I’ve heard — not like I’ve stopped by Vessel recently. Hmmm, maybe there’s a connection there…). So, with no other option at hand, I shrubbed it up: two batches, one raspberry and one blackberry (so I can mix to taste), fortified with champagne vinegar.
Raspberry / Blackberry Shrub
- 1 pint raspberries and/or blackberries
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1/2 cup water
- 1 cup white wine vinegar (I used champagne vinegar)
Mix sugar and water over medium heat and bring to boil; add berries and let simmer about 10 minutes. Add vinegar and boil another two minutes. Cool and strain; a second strain may be needed to remove the fruit flies that settled in the liquid after the first strain (try not to think about it later when you’re mixing the drink). Bottle.
But how else to go local with the drink? How about a product from a Washington distillery; unfortunately, until Pacific Distillery in Woodinville gets their gin and absinthe on the market later this year, that means the only one around is Dry Fly in Spokane. Not exactly local, though it is in the same state; plus, they make gin and vodka, but I really like dark spirits with the shrub. With that kind of mileage, I might as well look south and start poaching products from Portland’s distilleries, which thanks to a less bass-ackwards set of state regulations, are more numerous than those in Washington. Looking for a dark spirit — especially one that matches well with berries — I quickly settled on the fruity and flavorful 2-year-old apple brandy from Clear Creek Distillery.
Which brings me to the Apple Bramble Buck — and of course, the confession: since there’s no citrus juice in there, it’s not really a buck; but, the vinegar in the shrub lends acid and that bright sharpness, so this etymological offense is a relatively minor one.
Apple Bramble Buck
- 2 ounces Clear Creek 2-year-old Apple Brandy
- 1 ounce blackberry shrub
- 4 ounces ginger ale
Build in a highball glass over ice; stir gently and provoke with a straw.
I almost went with a spicy ginger beer on this one, but I’m glad I didn’t; the shrub has a strong flavor, but delicate, and I think the ginger would have trampled over the nuances of the berries. I went with full-bore blackberry shrub in this, in keeping with the theme, but next time around — and there will certainly be a next time; this thing is damn tasty — I may mix equal parts raspberry and blackberry, just to give it another dimension.
Anyway, after a fleet of failed experiments on my part, the Apple Bramble Buck delivers. Head on over to Kevin’s place to see what other folks have done in their locales this Mixology Monday.
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