Entries Tagged as 'Spirits'

MxMo Come to your senses: do you smell something in here?

I’ve been at this cocktail thing a long time. A little more than eight years ago, if memory serves, I bought my first bottle of rye, tracked down a copy of David Embury’s The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks on eBay (price: $10 — oh, how things have changed) and started mixing the hell out of everything. But over the years (as the dwindling frequency of posts here suggests), I’ve grown lazy and jaded on some issues related to creative drinks, and the transformative episodes of finding a rare spirit or tasting a paradigm-shifting cocktail are now fewer and much further between.

Still, I’ve had my moments, and some of these have been quite memorable, based largely on the olfactory experience of a particular drink. This isn’t surprising, of course; the sense of smell has a tighter link to memory than any of our other senses (or so I recall reading somewhere, and it seems to make sense so I’ve stuck with it so far). And while I sometimes struggle to recall the precise flavor of a certain whiskey or of a once-mindbending cocktail, there are experiences I recall with complete clarity, due largely to the assertive aroma of a particular drink: the first Sazerac I had that was mixed with French absinthe (rather than Pernod or Herbsaint in those not-so-long-ago times when absinthe was still verboten), as the ethereal fragrance of green anise wafted up from the glass; or the moment at a Tales of the Cocktail past, as Eric Seed from Haus Alpenz poured sample cups of the not-yet-released Smith & Cross in a crowded tasting room and I caught the lascivious funk of the rum’s aroma from a full 10 feet away. And another? The Gin Basil Smash is right up there.

The Gin Basil Smash has a history that is blissfully short: created in 2008 by Jorg Meyer at his bar, Le Lion in Hamburg, the drink has reportedly enjoyed a good deal of popularity in Germany and environs (and is the only cocktail I know of that has its own Facebook page). The drink’s composition is ludicrously simple: just a basic gin sour with the addition of fresh basil and the lemon shell, which you muddle together and shake before double-straining over fresh ice (or, more in tune with the drink’s inspiration, a contemporary-style smash with the addition of basil).

Gin Basil Smash
by Jorg Meyer (adapted for us non-metric types)

  • 2 oz. gin (I used Hendricks because it’s decent, I have a lot of it in the house and the urge struck)
  • 3/4 oz. fresh lemon juice (about half a medium lemon)
  • 3/4 oz. simple syrup
  • 1 bunch fresh basil
  • basil leaf, for garnish

Place basil and lemon shell in a mixing tin and muddle away (you can instead drop in half a lemon rather than a squeezed lemon shell, but you’re ramping up your muddling work a little). Add the remaining ingredients, fill shaker with ice and shake well until chilled, about 10 seconds. Strain into old-fashioned glass filled with fresh ice. Garnish with basil leaf.

Anyway, whatever – the drink is absolutely delicious, yes, but it’s also intensely aromatic. With a big bunch of fresh basil going into the mixing tin, the cocktail comes out alluringly green, but also enormously fragrant, impressing it all that much more on your memory the first time you tuck into one, while also making what would otherwise be a simple gin sour into a more three-dimensional drinking experience.

…which is kind of what this month’s Mixology Monday is all about. The theme is “Come to Your Senses,” and it’s hosted over at 12 Bottle Bar. Head on over and see what everyone else has come up with–

Beer? Bourbon? Oh, hell–make it both

I’ve been sitting on this recipe for a while.

This drink initially caught my attention last winter, while working on the (aborted) 60/30 thingy in which I tried to revive my own interest in this blog by writing about a whole hell of a lot of stuff. Writing about 60 drinks in 30 days over the busy holiday season proved to be, well, a stupid idea — but this drink, that I was holding in reserve but never got around to posting? Pretty much the opposite of a stupid idea.

The Weissen Sour comes from Kevin Diedrich, late of the Burritt Room in San Francisco; the drink appeared on an early menu for the bar, and during the course of talking to Kevin about other stuff I was writing last fall, I asked if it’d be okay to run the recipe for this drink. Kevin’s moved on from Burritt Room now (heading to Jasper’s Corner Tap & Kitchen, according to Paolo Lucchesi), and considering the beer-forward nature of the new place, this drink that combines bourbon with brew seems particularly fitting.

(Fitting for what? Well, today is Mixology Monday, an online cocktail thingy that’s been going on for more than five years now — anyway, this month’s event is hosted by Fred at Cocktail Virgin Slut, and for July’s theme, Fred chose Beer Cocktails — so, now the whole thing hopefully makes sense.)

When you come right down to it, the Weissen Sour is an amazingly simple drink: just a basic whiskey sour with the tweak of adding orange marmalade (if you’re playing along with the name game, I suppose that’s a tour through the Omar Bradley with a tip of the hat to the Marmalade Cocktail, though now it’s getting complicated) and orange bitters, then tossing the thing in a highball glass (with ice? I neglected to ask Kevin, so I went for it, though in hindsight it might have worked better with crushed ice rather than big cubes), and finishing it with a punch of chilled weisse beer.

As anyone with an occasional (or frequent) boilermaker habit can tell you, bourbon loves the hell out of a cold, crisp beer, and as we head into mid-July, few beers are crisper or more appealing than a decent weisse. For this drink, I used Maker’s Mark (wheated bourbon, wheat beer…) and Ayinger Brau-Weisse for the beer. I’m not sure if I wound up trampling all over Kevin’s original recipe for the drink, but I’m pretty pleased with the result: the gently sweet fruitiness of the marmalade is a great bridge between the richness of the bourbon and the flowery aromatics of the beer, and the mixture is simple enough that you don’t feel anything is going over the top.

Weissen Sour
from Kevin Diedrich

  • 2 ounces bourbon
  • 3/4 ounce lemon juice
  • 1 barspoon orange marmalade
  • 2 dashes orange bitters
  • chilled weisse beer
  • small piece of lemon, for garnish

Combine everything except beer and garnish in a cocktail shaker; smush the marmalade around to help it dissolve in the liquid, then fill shaker with ice and do what comes natural. Strain into highball glass (I filled mine with ice, but give it a try without if the idea of pouring beer over ice skeeves you out), and top with chilled beer.

And that’ll get you through a warm July evening.

That’s what I’ve got for this round of Mixology Monday. Be sure to head over to Fred’s place and see what other drinks folks have come up with this month.

The summer of pisco? Let’s start with the Bell-Ringer….

This could be the summer for pisco.

I’ve been hearing for years about how the revival of this South American spirit was right around the corner — about how pisco and cachaca (which is also made in South America, but beyond the matter of geography and color has pretty much nothing in common with pisco) are ascendant and just waiting for their breakthrough moment. And I look, and I wait, and…well, I can’t say “nothing” because that’s not the case, but for an alleged revival, it’s certainly been slow to come about.

But really, this time it could happen, and it might be happening now.

Consider: six or so years ago, when I purchased my first-ever bottle of pisco, there were maybe three brands in the Seattle liquor store I visited (two, if you discount the one in the goofy novelty bottle), and those were all Chilean. Nothing against Chilean pisco, mind you, but the bottle I bought (and the others I subsequently tried) were, well, lackluster. So unimpressive, in fact, that I still have that damn bottle of pisco, somewhere at the back of the liquor cabinet, about three-quarters full and gathering dust.

But now, pisco’s popping up everywhere, and this time it’s not just mediocre brands that are coming into the store. Campo de Encanto, which is coming this way from Peru via San Francisco, is easily one of the very best piscos I’ve tried (and during a visit to Lima in February, I tried way more than my fair share), and other very good Peruvian piscos are popping up in bars and liquor stores right now, and — by not being crap, and not costing $40 a bottle — they’re convincing bartenders and cocktail geeks to actually try playing around with the stuff, breaking out some old classics as well as experimenting with new pisco cocktails.

So, as I said, maybe this summer is it.

Since tomorrow is the first day of summer (and today is Mixology Monday, hosted by Filip at Adventures in Cocktails, with the theme of “Niche Spirits,” which is a realm pisco falls into here in the U.S.), here’s a pisco cocktail that’s especially alluring: the Pisco Bell-Ringer.

I’ve tried this drink before, with the aforementioned crappy pisco, so I’m especially relieved now to mix it again with a decent representative of the pisco class. As Dave Wondrich notes in Esquire Drinks (and on the website), this little ditty goes back to 1903, when it appeared in Jim Maloney’s How to Mix Drinks. While there are Bell-Ringer drinks (defined, apparently, as drinks served in a glass rinsed with apricot brandy) in Maloney’s 1900 book, The 20th Century Guide for Mixing Fancy Drinks, pisco didn’t make the cut in that round. That’s unfortunate; pisco and apricot are absolutely bonkers for each other, with the round, flowery richness of pisco providing a perfect platform for the lush fruitiness of apricot liqueur; really, everything else in the drink just keeps it in balance so these two flavors-in-love can go at it like rutting weasels.

A version of this drink made its way onto the cocktail menu at Clover Club a while back, and that came out in Dale DeGroff’s The Essential Cocktail; in this version, Julie Reiner tinkered with the formula slightly, adding an egg white and tweaking the bitters approach while adding an extra half-ounce of aged rum, which gives a little vanilla-ey woodiness to the mix; it’s nice, certainly, but for tonight I’ll stick with the earlier formulation (with one caveat: I’m bumping up the lemon and simple syrup, for a little better sour/sweet balance) rather than distract the pisco and apricot from their flavorful amore.

Pisco Bell-Ringer
(adapted from Wondrich’s Esquire Drinks)

  • 2 ounces pisco (I used Campo de Encanto acholado – stick with Peruvian for this mix)
  • 1/2 ounce lemon juice
  • 1/2 ounce simple syrup
  • 2 dashes orange bitters
  • 2 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
  • Rinse of apricot liqueur

Combine everything except apricot liqueur in a cocktail shaker and fill with ice. Shake well until chilled, about 10 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass that’s been rinsed with apricot liqueur. Garnish with lemon wheel.

Mmmm, pisco. C’mon, summer of 2011, let’s see what we can do with this stuff.

That’s my drink for this Mixology Monday; be sure to head over to Filip’s place to see what everyone else has been up to.

 

11:59

Please excuse the dust — it’s been a while since I’ve been around these parts, and I haven’t had a chance to clean up.

On what’s become a typical Monday night, I’d be perfectly content to continue ignoring this blog in favor of frittering away my time on even less productive pursuits, but today is Mixology Monday (chapter 56, if anyone’s keeping count), and considering that last month was the first time in what’s now five years of the event (happy anniversary!) that I missed posting a drink for a MxMo (thanks to a busy travel schedule and my own unshakable laziness), I thought it best not to make that a habit, as well — and so, here we are.

Not that it’s an easy theme this month. As chosen by this month’s MxMo host, Chris at Spirited Remix, the theme is “Your Best” – as in, what’s your very best original drink that you’ve ever put together. And for me, at least, the only correct answer is: I have absolutely no idea.

When it comes time to mix a cocktail, an overwhelming majority of the time, I’m totally happy to follow a beaten path — timeworn classics like the Manhattan and the Old Fashioned (along with their extended families) are such frequent visitors around my place that they have their own keys for the front door and keep a toothbrush in my bathroom for overnight stays; and I’ll occasionally host old friends like the Daiquiri (which also usually brings its large clan for its warm-weather visits) or newer ones like the Revolver, and I’ll just keep going back to these familiar drinks rather than start fiddling with something new.

When I do go in my own direction, it’s usually just riffing on a theme — such as last summer’s tinkering with single-serving punches — or plugging different elements into familiar patterns, such as taking David Wondrich’s model of 2 parts spirit / 1 part fortified or aromatized wine / 1 tsp. liqueur / 1 dash bitters and pulling out different things from the liquor cabinet that otherwise would be neglected and sad. I do have a few originals that I like — the Duniette, which I don’t mix very often because I’m kind of tired of St. Germain, but otherwise is a lovely cousin of the Jasmine; and the Theobroma, which I still think is kinda rockin — but really, there are others who spend far more time working out new combinations than I do, and I’m happy to be a spectator.

But mentioning the Theobroma reminds me of some experimentation I was doing a couple of years back, when I was really enjoying the interplay of a few favorite flavors, based around the perfect-to-me combination of bitter orange and chocolate. I’ve riffed on these quite a bit, using Amer Picon (and replica) or Ramazotti or another orangey amaro with creme de cacao, chocolate bitters or cacao-nib tincture, and deploying these in a base of tequila (as with the Theobroma) or whiskey. But chocolate also has an intense affinity for Chartreuse, as well as for the richness of vanilla; and one night, while trying to figure out some way to combine these flavors, I came up with something I kind of really liked, a drink I’ll call the 11:59.

Before I get to the recipe, an explanation: I originally made this with Jamie Boudreau’s replica of Amer Picon, which is absolutely delicious, but I’m not using it here — because frankly, it’s a pain to make and keep around. For this round, I’m substituting Punt e Mes, which will bring a bitter note without the sweetness of a liqueur; if you try this drink and it’s not quite to your liking, I’d suggest substituting Amer Picon or a replica (if you have it), or Ramazzotti with an extra dash of orange bitters. For the vanilla element, I’d initially tried using Navan in a tequila-based cocktail, but that was getting too sweet and fussy; instead, for that big vanilla flavor without added sugar, I went with Angostura 1919 rum for the base spirit, since it’s the most intensely vanilla-ey rum I can think of. (Plus, it’s my firmly held opinion that there are WAY too few spirit-forward drinks that use rum as a base — c’mon, it’s delicious, we’ve gotta figure out how to use it more.) With those two together, it was just a matter of knocking in the other ingredients to get a drink that features the flavors of bitter orange, chocolate, Chartreuse and vanilla, yet isn’t tooth-achingly sweet. Here y’go–

11:59

  • 2 ounces Angostura 1919 rum
  • 3/4 ounce Punt e Mes
  • 1/4 ounce green Chartreuse
  • 1/4 ounce white creme de cacao
  • 2 dashes orange bitters (I used Angostura orange)
  • – orange peel, for garnish

Pour all ingredients into a mixing glass and fill with ice. Stir well until chilled, about 30 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass; twist orange peel over drink and use as garnish (and now that I think of it, a flamed orange zest wouldn’t be out of place right about now).

I’m sipping one right now — hang on — and it’s pretty good. Is it my best? Really, I dunno — on certain nights, I’d prefer the Theobroma, on others I’d rather go with some freestyle punch or riff on an improved whiskey cocktail, but really I’d like to think that “my best” is still ahead of me somewhere. The search for that will keep me interested for a good while, I hope, and it may even excite me enough that I come back around to this blog again before the dust builds up too deep on the dashboard and all signs of life flicker out of The Cocktail Chronicles. We’ll see.

(Oh, and the name? I’m in the habit of putting off my Mixology Monday contributions until the very latest that one could still consider the day “Monday”, and tonight looks like it’s no different — so I’m naming this drink after the time that I usually finish up and hit “publish”, just before the calendar slips into Tuesday…)

Anyway, head on over to Chris’ place to see what everybody got up to this month.

Japanese Flip

Yes, yes, the first post in a month, and for all the good intentions with that whole 60/30 effort, I managed to squeak out just shy of 40 drinks before succumbing to work / laziness / holidays / post-holidays laziness. But, the final 20 drinks are to come over the next week or so, once I break my self-imposed drought — let’s just forget about that 30 day thing, huh?

But while I haven’t had a drop to drink since New Year’s Day — my liver is a very loyal and supportive part of my anatomy, and following the annual holiday excesses, I like to give it a little vacation — today is Mixology Monday, and while I’m occasionally racing the clock to get a post finished in time (as I am tonight), I have yet to miss one. Anyway, this month’s event is sponsored by Josh at Cocktail Assembly, and Josh has selected Flips as the theme.

I’ve been down the flip road before, including at least once for Mixology Monday. Four Januarys ago, when MxMo was hosted by Imbibe Unfiltered, I prepared a classic hot Rum Flip, aka a “Yard of Flannel,” a tankard of richness that with its funky base of steaming beer and lathery heaviness left me uncertain of how the drink ever caught on in the first place

Ah, but flips made their way in the world, eventually being compressed to just liquor (or port or sherry), sugar and an egg, with a little nutmeg on top to add a dainty touch. A perfectly pleasant mixture, if you’re into that kind of thing, but it could use a little excitement — which can be added, for example, by swapping out the sugar for liqueurs, as in the Colleen Bawn, or for an alternative sweetener / liqueur combo, as in the Fort Washington Flip, or by scrapping the whole liquor/sugar thing and just plunging ahead with a bitter liqueur, such as in the too-damn-tasty Cynar Flip or in the weirdly alluring Fernet Flip.

Here’s one flip variation that I tried around the holidays and found not too shabby: the Japanese Flip. Okay, I just made up the name, kinda — really, this drink is a slightly tweaked Japanese Cocktail with an egg thrown in. By “tweaked,” I mean I’m knocking back the brandy to 1 1/2 ounces to keep the overall quantity under control, and bumping up the orgeat from a 1/2 ounce in the original to 3/4 ounce for the flip, as a whole egg is mighty effective as a sweetness buffer, and you might want a little added syrup so the ethereal nuttiness of the orgeat remains a prominent player in the drink.

I mixed this drink with Boker’s Bitters a la the Japanese Cocktail, but to be honest I think they got lost in the richness of the flip; if you still want the added dimension, I’d recommend a spicy aromatic bitters such as The Bitter Truth or Fee’s Whiskey Barrel Aged bitters, or just axe the bitters entirely because, y’know, this drink is all about the cognac and the orgeat in a plush kind of environment.

Japanese Flip

1 1/2 ounces cognac or Armagnac
3/4 ounce orgeat (I used Trader Tiki’s)
1 smallish egg, very fresh
2 dashes bitters (optional; see note)
–fresh nutmeg, for garnish

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker and shake well, without ice, until well combined, about 10 seconds. Add ice and shake again with a hell of a lot of vigor for around another 10 seconds; strain into a small goblet or cocktail glass, and grate some nutmeg over the top.

OK, perhaps not the most imaginative twist on a flip, but isn’t simplicity a wonderful thing? Besides, the Japanese Cocktail is always a winner with me, and in a flip environment I find the brandy/orgeat combo just as appealing.

Anyway, that’s my post for this Mixology Monday. Be sure to head over to Josh’s place to see how everybody else flipped out this month.


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