Entries Tagged as 'Applejack'

Bitter Maestro

It’s been a long, busy summer of mostly ignoring this blog, and if left to my own devices I’d likely let the radio silence continue until well after Labor Day. But in response to several inquiries and gentle nudges following the last round of Mixology Monday — a theoretically monthly event that last took place in May — I once again donned my blogging beanie and found a host (or nine) for upcoming events, the first of which is today (at least it’s still today for another half hour or so).

When I put out the call for hosts via Twitter (I’m @cocktailchron, in case you’re wondering), I wasn’t surprised that the first offer came from Lindsey Johnson, who in her day job — if that’s the right term for it — works with the spirits industry as the maven behind Lush Life Productions, and who keeps her social media street cred by not only being a tireless Tweeter (sorry — usually I avoid such new-media lingo, but my amour for alliteration won out) and by participating in social-media focused panel discussions such as the one she joined me on last month at Tales of the Cocktail, but by also publishing the blog, Brown, Bitter and Stirred — which, as luck would have it, is the theme for this month’s MxMo.

While it’s still August, autumn seems to be creeping in early here in the Pacific Northwest, and dark, boozy drinks laced with a little elaborate Italian liqueur are perfectly suited to the next 10 months of mostly unbroken gray. Here’s a drink I was introduced to last fall that I wrote up for the San Francisco Chronicle earlier this year: the Bitter Maestro.

The Bitter Maestro is from Brooke Arthur, who was then at Range and now helms the bar at Prospect in San Francisco. I swung by Range last October on the night before Whiskyfest, to say hi to Brooke and to spend a little time at Range’s small, comfortable bar. With practically no direction from me, Brooke brought over the three things I needed most at 9 o’clock on a Thursday evening: salad, ice cream and a cocktail built on a base of cask-strength whiskey.

Brooke said that the Bitter Maestro was related to a drink from John Deragon at PDT, and while the stump-blaster she poured me had a base of 140-plus-proof Thomas Handy Rye, it also works well with something of a more modest (though still mighty) octane, such as Rittenhouse bonded or Russell’s Reserve Rye. Playing off this spicy base is a small pour of applejack (though Laird’s bonded apple brandy works well, especially if you have a higher-proof rye in the mix), with a little mellowing from Dubonnet rouge and the bitter angle provided by a half-ounce of Amaro Nonino.

In the realm of bitter liqueurs, Nonino is a bit of a pussycat along the lines of Averna, as compared to the rough-trade bitterness found in stuff like Unicum or Fernet Branca, and Nonino’s gentle nip of bitter is a nice counterpoint to the roar of the rye. For a change of pace and to bump up the bitterness a tad, I’ve tried the Maestro with Bonal Gentiane-Quina substituted for the Dubonnet; it dries out the drink a little more (though it doesn’t need it), and gives it a little more back-palate action for those times when the mood takes you there.

Anyway, thanks to Brooke for introducing me to this drink and for sharing the recipe.

Bitter Maestro

  • 1 1/2 ounces rye whiskey (go for higher proof)
  • 1/2 ounce applejack or apple brandy
  • 1/2 ounce Dubonnet rouge
  • 1/2 ounce Amaro Nonino
  • 1 dash pomegranate concentrate or grenadine

Combine in a mixing glass and fill with ice; stir well and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Twist a bit o’ lemon peel over the drink and discard, and garnish with a few pomegranate seeds.

Want to see what everyone else has been up to for Mixology Monday? Head over to Lindsey’s place and check out the submissions.

30/30, #11: the Diamondback

In the late fall and early winter, I fell into a swoon regarding the perfect marriage between two ingredients: rye whiskey and apple brandy. While I’d flirted with this combination before, I’d never really explored its potential. By November, though, I was reaching for the black-labeled bottles of Rittenhouse bonded rye and Laird’s bonded apple brandy on most nights, trying different liqueurs and other flavoring agents to take the drinks in different directions. While there were a couple of loser drinks in the trials, most came through incredibly well. Here’s the drink that first sparked my interest in this flavor combination, a cocktail that I tried several years ago and have kept coming back to on a regular basis: the Diamondback.

The first appearance I know of for this drink is in Ted Saucier’s Bottoms Up, from 1951, and Saucier describes it as composed of two parts Old Schenley rye whiskey, with one part each of applejack and yellow Chartreuse. I initially came across this drink on Chuck Taggart’s blog way back in 2005, when my blog was in its infancy, and the comment I posted for the drink was, I think, my first exchange with Chuck. The recipe he posted (using the more potent green Chartreuse in place of the yellow) had likewise been suggested in a blog comment by Murray Stenson, who had posted the Diamondback on Zig Zag‘s bar menu. After reading Chuck’s post I became an occasional fan of the Diamondback, and even included it in an Imbibe story on applejack a couple years back.

I mention this connection because I’m coming off a busy weekend, one that was filled with eating and drinking with Chuck and Wes (and a whole slew of Seattle cocktail people) during their long-overdue visit to Seattle. Murray even dropped by during last night’s cocktail party at Dayne & Wendy’s, and at some point Keith Waldbauer mixed up a Diamondback. This may seem a trivial personal detail to many, but the way I’ve come to know people like Chuck and Murray over the almost four years since I first came across this recipe made covering this drink appropriate, in a sentimental kinda way. Don’t care for the sentimentality? Mix one anyway — with the alcoholic firepower supplied by three ingredients in the 100-proof and up range, the Diamondback will put you in a reflective state of mind pretty fast.

Diamondback

  • 1 1/2 ounces rye whiskey (Rittenhouse bonded strongly recommended)
  • 3/4 ounce applejack (Laird’s bonded apple brandy strongly recommended)
  • 3/4 ounce Chartreuse (yellow works, but green works better)*

Stir well with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry if that’s your thing.

* As Dietsch noted when he wrote up this drink for Mixology Monday, this amount of Chartreuse can push the drink over to the sweet side; you may wish to dial it back to a half-ounce or so and see how that suits your tastes.

This drink is part of 30/30, a series of 30 drinks in 30 days — or as much as I can keep up before collapsing in a weary, booze-addled heap.

30/30, #3: Savoy Tango

Way back during the dark ages of mixology, when decent sloe gin was as hard to find in the U.S. as gas under $3 — and here we’re talking about a year or so ago — this drink never would have caught my attention. Hell, even after Plymouth started distributing its sloe gin, I breezed right over this recipe in The Savoy Cocktail Book, discounting it because of its deceptive simplicity: two ingredients in equal parts, both fruity and boozy — where’s the appeal?

That was a mistake. After seeing the Savoy Tango recommended on the boards over at eGullet, one night late last summer I broke out the Laird’s Bonded Apple Brandy and gave the drink a whirl; by the time I’d made it through half the glass, I had a new favorite cocktail for the fall.

At the time I was working on a story about Plymouth’s sloe gin for an upcoming issue of Imbibe; not wanting to scoop my own story, I stifled any posts about drinks made with sloe gin until the piece came out in November, and by that point I’d pretty much moved on to other things. Hence, the drink is just now making its way onto the blog, and while the rich stone-fruit flavors hint strongly at autumn harvest, this is such a crisp and flavorful drink that I hope you give it a spin despite the season.

Savoy Tango

  • 1 1/2 ounces sloe gin
  • 1 1/2 ounces Calvados or apple brandy (Laird’s bonded works wonders in this drink)

Stir ingredients with cracked ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry, if that’s your thing.

Plymouth’s sloe gin is still available only in limited distribution, but since it’s come on the market the booze world has been blessed with one additional sloe gin that’s absolutely a knockout: one from the guys at The Bitter Truth, who partnered with Austrian distiller Hans Reisetbauer to make this fantastic product (full disclosure: a sample was provided by The Bitter Truth). True, you’ll need to order The Bitter Truth sloe gin online (though products such as their bitters are increasingly available in the U.S.), but it has an arresting complexity that, along with the crisp freshness it shares with Plymouth’s sloe gin, helps make up for all those years of low-rent sloe gin that we had to put up with for so long.

This drink is part of 30/30, a series of 30 drinks in 30 days — or as much as I can keep up before collapsing in a weary, booze-addled heap.

Farmer’s Bishop

Last Christmas — and the one before that, too, as a matter of fact — I was all about getting into the festive holiday spirit by torching up big bowls of punch. I’m not sure if I’ll get to that this year: I have some aged eggnog that should be ready Christmas Eve, and if that doesn’t put me in the hospital then I’ve kind of been jonesing for Reveillon Cocktails and Tom & Jerry on Christmas Day and at other festive events (I even started on the Reveillons early, as should you, after reading Chuck’s recent post revisiting his extraordinary contribution to holiday mixology). But should things change, I plan to have some oranges, cloves and cider handy, along with a box of matches. And maybe this year I’ll try to lay in some extra apple brandy, just in case.

Farmer's BishopHere’s a little novelty I found in an old Peter Pauper Press holiday drink guide I recently picked up on eBay: the Farmer’s Bishop (I’m sure it’s out there in other books, I just haven’t gone looking yet). It’s related to the Christmas Rum Punch (aka English Bishop) I wrote about last year, with the only difference between the two being the use of apple brandy instead of rum. I have no gripe with the rum version — damn tasty, that — but I’m really intrigued by how this could turn out. I’d imagine you’d want something like Laird’s bonded apple brandy, or possibly something from Laird’s line of aged brandies or a Calvados or even Clear Creek’s young apple brandy, instead of the Laird’s applejack, which won’t provide as much of a fruit flavor as this punch might require. If anybody goes for it, please post a note in the comments section.

Farmer’s Bishop adapted from The Holiday Drink Book, Peter Pauper Press, 1951

  • 6 oranges
  • around 4 dozen whole cloves
  • 1 bottle apple brandy
  • 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 1/2 gallon cider
  • 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
  • and if you have any pimento dram kicking around, an ounce or so would work wonders here

Stick each orange with 8 cloves, and bake them whole in a slow oven (300F, I’m guessing) for 1 hour. Place them in a heated punch bowl and prick them well with a fork. Heat the apple brandy in a saucepan until warm — CAREFUL, especially if you’re using a gas stove — and pour over the oranges; sprinkle with the sugar. While warming the brandy, heat the cider to almost boiling. Take 1/2 cup of the cider and mix the remaining spices in it, then set it aside. Carefully light the brandy — I like to use a sugar cube soaked with a bit of the brandy, place it in the bowl of a long-handled spoon, light it and then stand back while placing the burning cube in the boozy punch. Let it burn for a few seconds, then add the hot cider to extinguish the flames; stir in the cup of spiced cider. You can keep it warm in a chafing dish or on the stove (I’d imagine a crockpot would work, if somewhat lacking in pizzazz). Serves 24.

Farmer's Bishop

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 ……


  • The Cocktail Chronicles is part of the Cocktails & Spirits Ad Network. To advertise on this site or across a network of cocktail and spirits related weblogs, click here.
  • Subscribe via e-mail

    Enter your Email


    Preview | Powered by FeedBlitz
  • Etcetera

  • Foodista Drink Blog of the Day Badge
  • Powered by Laughing Squid
  • hit counter
  • Alcoholic Blog Directory