Entries Tagged as 'Pimento Dram'

My mother always said I was special…

…as did my guidance counselor, while dissuading me from pursuing anything ambitious in life.

Now, apparently the San Francisco Chronicle thinks so, too — see, it’s right there next to the byline: “Special to the Chronicle“. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, almost as warm as the new St. Elizabeth Allspice Dram I wrote the article about makes me feel.

Plus, the editors gave this one of my all-time favorite headlines:

Hot dram!
Complex Jamaican liqueur’s American revival captures imaginations of connoisseurs

Eric’s liqueur really is fantastic — as someone who’s worked up several batches of pimento dram by hand, I’m excited to have a convenient, well-made product on the market. So much for hand-grinding the allspice berries from here on out.

Northern Spy

Now that the copyright-flogging, spam-blogging leeches of the Internet have officially entered the cocktail-blog realm — and my apologies for being cryptic, but if you have no idea what I’m talking about, you’re one of the lucky ones — I thought I should follow suit and start stealing from myself.

Northern SpyHere’s a drink I posted last Friday over at Serious Eats that’s worthy of a little more exploration. I was introduced to the Northern Spy a few weeks ago by Murray Stenson, who mixed one for me while I was in my customary clueless mode about what to drink next. The recipe sounded familiar — apple cider, applejack, lemon juice, liqueur (more on that in a minute) — and after refreshing my memory with the help of my good friend Google, I realized that Erik had recently posted the recipe on eGullet as part of his Stompin’ Through the Savoy journey, while mixing up some cocktails with San Francisco bartender Josey Packard at Alembic.

I had the good fortune to meet Josey last month while in San Francisco, and while I had only one drink at Alembic — the fault for which I lay on the residual Bourbon & Branch-induced hangover I was traveling with at the time — it was obvious that Josey knew her stuff. The Northern Spy just drives that point home: perfectly suited for late autumn and early winter, this drink is a match made for Thanksgiving. Josey says she serves this at her own family gatherings, and I’ll be putting together a round or two on Thursday, partially to enjoy the drink’s rich flavor but also to play with a few variations.

Josey’s recipe calls for using apricot brandy for flavor and sweetness (she even makes her own, macerating a pound of dried apricots in 750ml of VS or better brandy for a few days). I’ve used a couple of the better commercial versions out there — Rothman & Winter Orchard Apricot and Giffard Abricot du Roussillon — with fantastic results. She also says the Northern Spy works great with the royale treatment — topping the cocktail with an ounce or so of chilled champagne — which I’m definitely going to have to try this week.

But during my first introduction to the drink at Zig Zag, Murray pulled out a bottle of house-made pimento dram and used that in place of the apricot brandy; this swapped the elegant fruitiness of the drink for a deep, mellow allspice tone that really emphasized the Northern Spy’s autumnal character. Then tonight, just for laughs, I broke out the bottle of Giffard Ginger of the Indies liqueur and substituted that for the apricot, giving the drink an aura of spicy brightness.

(And since I’m horsing around with the recipe, you’ll note from the photo that I tried substituting the Clear Creek Apple Brandy — the two-year-old stuff, not the eight-year-old Eau de Vie de Pomme — for the applejack, with pleasant results.)

Josey’s got a great drink here, whether made her original way with the apricot or with the allspice or ginger variations. If you’re looking for a Thanksgiving drink — or holiday cocktail, or just regular autumn tipple — the Northern Spy is a good one to roll out.

Northern Spy (created by Josey Packard, Alembic, San Francisco)

  • 2 ounces applejack
  • 1 ounce fresh apple cider (flash-pasteurized is okay, but no preservatives!)
  • 1/2 ounce fresh lemon juice
  • 1/4 - 1/2 ounce apricot brandy, to taste, depending on brand*

Shake well with ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass that’s been rimmed with cinnamon sugar. Top with champagne, if you like (be sure to goose up the sweetness a little to compensate for the extra acidity), and for the holiday go ahead and garnish with a cranberry.

* or pimento dram, or ginger liqueur, or ……

Obscure Booze

I have a thing for weird, unobtainable booze. I’m also hardly alone — peruse the cocktail blogosphere, and you’ll find many other folks like me. There we are, sniffing around for violet liqueur and Swedish punsch, and embarking on major undertakings that are time and cost intensive — and sometimes in violation of state and federal statute — just so we can finally follow a drink recipe that was dug out of a bartender’s guide that went out of print before our respective parents were born.

Hey, I’m there.

Imbibe magazineWhy do we want this stuff? That’s the question I try to tackle in my story in the latest issue of Imbibe. Titled “Gone but not Forgotten” and beautifully photographed and designed — no, really, the story is freaking gorgeous – the article covers the pursuit of Batavia Arrack, Amer Picon, Falernum, Creme de Violette and Pimento Dram. As with other stories, one of the main perks of writing this piece was having the opportunity to get on the horn with folks like Ted Haigh, Chuck Taggart, Eric Seed and Jeffrey Morgenthaler, and to chat about cocktails and weird booze for a while. I also sat with Jamie Boudreau one afternoon and sampled his homemade Amer Picon substitute side-by-side with the authentic version (not surprisingly given Jamie’s talents, the replica was better, with a fuller, richer flavor that promises to work much better in cocktails than the watered down contemporary Picon). As a gesture of thanks for his efforts, I even gave Jamie credit for creation of the Chartreuse Swizzle, a remarkable and powerful drink that apparently has its provenance elsewhere (sorry, Marcovaldo).

I’m sure some folks are thinking, “If these things are impossible to find, why should I care?” Mainly because for many of these ingredients, finding them isn’t so impossible anymore. Look at absinthe (not covered in the article, but still one of those must-have-but-can’t-easily-find ingredients): a year ago, you had to be willing to bend the law and make your credit card whimper in order to obtain a decent bottle of the stuff; now, you can pick up a bottle at your local liquor store (if you live in New York), or easily, legally and somewhat-affordably get one online.

More pertinent examples, perhaps, are creme de violette and Batavia arrack: violette is one of those near-impossible-to-get ingredients that only a lucky few have, thanks mainly to traveling friends who hit liquor stores in Japan or France (thanks again, Chris! And thanks for the refill, Darren). Batavia arrack — rum’s ancestor, the base to arrack punch and the long-lost Swedish punsch — is perhaps even harder to find, squirreled away in dusty old shops in Germany and the Netherlands, or brought back from Indonesia.

Now (soon, anyway), both of these are at hand: thanks to Eric Seed, an esoteric-spirits aficionado and incredibly nice guy who is principal at Haus Alpenz, these products are back in the United States; I don’t think they’re in stores just yet (Eric, help me out here if that’s not the case), but they’re in a warehouse somewhere in New Jersey about to be loaded on a truck bound for your finest liquor stores, where they’ll wait until some of your more dedicated New York cocktail geeks grab a bottle and swoon.

And that’s not all, but that’s all I’ll say for now. Want more info? Then head for Tales of the Cocktail, where a panel will discuss “Lost Ingredients” on Thursday, July 19. Panel participants include Ted Haigh, Chuck Taggart, Eric Seed and myself, along with several other notables, and we’ll discuss several of the spirits mentioned in the Imbibe story, along with a few more. Surprising announcements and great excitement guaranteed.

Milk Punch

It’s easy to think of this old chestnut of a drink as a lazy man’s eggnog — I do, in a fashion. But this relic from mixology’s mesozoic era has enough of its own character to deserve attention and respect, especially at this time of year.

Now, I’m sure there are a number of people who read the headline and then moved on, grimacing at the thought of mixing the stuff your mom was always making you drink with the stuff she was always trying to keep you from drinking. That’s a definite mistake (one I was guilty of making myself for way too long). With a nice, aged spirit and a touch of sugar (and some vanilla, if your tastebuds trend that way), milk makes a silky, soothing base for this gentle, warming concoction. In New Orleans, you’re likely to encounter this as a morning beverage — what a beautiful idea — and while typically served cold, you can certainly warm up your milk punch to take the edge off a winter day.

The milk punch is classically made with brandy and / or rum, but bourbon also does a fine job, and is a favorite among many aficionados. Short of using Campari or soy milk (sorry, vegan lushes), it’s hard to screw up a milk punch (like your mother, the milk punch is very forgiving). And if you’ve made yourself some homemade pimento dram (or have a bottle from Jamaica lying around), a dash or two in the mixing glass gives the punch a warming, spicy smoothness that’s especially welcome six days before Christmas, when you’ve still got two weeks worth of shopping to do and no opening in your schedule in which to do it.

Milk Punch

  • 1 ounce brandy*
  • 1 ounce dark rum*
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 2 dashes vanilla extract (optional)
  • 2 dashes pimento dram (optional)
  • 4-6 ounces whole milk, to taste (I suppose you could use 2% in a pinch, but you’ll be missing out on the punch’s full effect)

Stir with ice and strain over crushed ice into a large goblet. Sprinkle with nutmeg. (Or, mix the booze, sugar and flavoring in a mug and fill with hot milk. Do the nutmeg thing if desired.)

* Bourbon may be substituted for the brandy & rum. Or, brandy may be substituted for the rum, rum for the brandy, or whatever other option you may consider.

MxMoX: Ho Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum

I can’t explain why I find it so satisfying, but in It’s a Wonderful Life, the grand holiday weeper that’s near-inescapable at this time of year, there’s a brief scene in a rough kind of barroom as Clarence the angel and Jimmy Stewart / George stop in for something to help them warm up:

CLARENCE: I was just thinking . . . It’s been so long since I . . .

NICK (impatient): Look, mister, I’m standing here waiting for you to make up your mind.

CLARENCE (appreciatively): That’s a good man. I was just thinking of a flaming rum punch. No, it’s not cold enough for that. Not nearly cold enough . . . Wait a minute . . . wait a minute . . . I got it. Mulled wine, heavy on the cinnamon and light on the cloves. Off with you, me lad, and be lively!

NICK: Hey, look mister, we serve hard drinks in here for men who want to get drunk fast. And we don’t need any characters around to give the joint atmosphere. Is that clear? Or do I have to slip you my left for a convincer?

CLARENCE (to George): What’s he talking about?

GEORGE (soothingly): Nick — Nick, just give him the same as mine. He’s okay.

Sure, laugh at the little angel guy with his old-timey ways and his thirst for hot spiced hooch — but if you’re spending your holiday party with a dry martini in your hand, you’re missing out on something. (Not that I have anything against dry martinis, of course — far from it — but it’s Christmas, for Chrissake…)

There’s something about the holidays that makes you reach for things you’d probably avoid the rest of the year — eggnog, gluhwein, tepid crab puffs that have been sitting on the buffet table for three hours. This holiday, add one more item to the list: a mugful of something from a BIG FLAMING BOWL OF BOOZE.

Flamed drinks aren’t the sole province of Jaeger-soaked frat-boys tossing back Irish Car Bombs: burning liquor has a heritage that includes the tiki (like Flaming Coffee Grog), the New Orleans (the Cafe Brulot — damn, gotta do that one sometime) and the uber-classic (the Blue Blazer). On Christmas, a flaming punch has extra appeal — it looks pretty festive among all the holiday trappings; it gives you something to chat about while you’re tippling under the mistletoe; it perfumes the air with the Christmasey smell of oranges and spice; and, a ladle in your hand full of something burning sends a not-so-subtle message to your sister’s husband that it just might be time to shut…the fuckup.

This recipe comes from Esquire’s Handbook for Hosts, from 1949:

Christmas Rum Punch

  • 6 oranges
  • 1/2 gallon sweet cider
  • 1 bottle Jamaica rum, bestest [I’ve used Myers and Appleton V/X with decent results; I’d bet it would also work well with a Barbados rum, or maybe even Bacardi 8. Nothing too posh, though — save that for fortifying yourself to hear your uncle’s advice on franchise opportunities.]
  • Sugar to taste
  • Whole cloves
  • Ground cinnamon and nutmeg

Stick the oranges full of cloves and bake them in the oven until they soften [20-30 minutes at 350 should do the trick]. Place oranges in the punch bowl, pour over them the rum and granulated sugar to taste. Set fire to rum and in a few minutes [ed note: make that seconds; see above] add the cider slowly to extinguish the flame. Stir in cinnamon and nutmeg, and keep the mixture hot.

Christmas Rum PunchI’ve made this punch the past two years, with good results. It’s incredibly easy to make — a bonus when you’ve accidentally committed yourself to make appetizers, sides, dessert and drinks for 12, and you started on the Tom & Jerry’s early. Experience says to make sure you have a sturdy punch bowl, preferably silver — unless your goal is to create an unforgettable holiday memory by assassinating your mother-in-law’s Waterford. Warm everything up beforehand, too; in addition to the obvious benefits, warm rum lights easier than cold. Also, be prepared with the cider; while the flames make the spices flare and pop nicely, letting the cloves burn too long will leave ashes in your drink and make your house smell like you’ve invited over the audience from a Cure concert. And experiment with your forms of sugar (go easy, though) — a few cubes of Demerara, strategically placed, will give a nice caramel touch to the punch. Finally, should you have any pimento dram on hand, a modest slug mixed in with the punch gives it an extra holiday kick.

So cue up Nat King Cole, put on your fuzzy reindeer sweater and smile like you mean it. With a couple of these boozy holiday bracers in you, it might just seem like the most wonderful time of the year.

Need more holiday cheer? Head on over to The Spirit World, where our good host Brenda is taking care of this round of Mixology Monday, themed Drinks for a Festive Occasion.

And, of course…happy holidays.

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