Entries Tagged as 'Rum'

MxMo XIV: Tiny Bubbles

The thing that always surprises me about champagne cocktails is the underlying nefarious nature of many of these drinks. You look at a recipe, think, “oh, it’s just a glass of wine, same stuff you use to toast at weddings and on election night last November — look, there’s only a smidgen of booze in the glass, it’ll be lighter than your run-of-the-mill highball,” then mix up a couple and, boom — your ears are feeling fuzzy. The thing I always forget is that champagne isn’t simply a substitute for seltzer; while it prances and fizzles in the glass, it’s actually getting the gin in that French 75 or the bourbon in that Pendennis all excited to come out of the glass and down your gullet, where the real fun begins. But even though I always underestimate them, each time I start to fiddle with champagne cocktails, I resolve to do it more frequently.

Mixology MondayThis break for bubbly was prompted by Anita and Cameron over at Married…With Dinner, hosts of this month’s Mixology Monday. Champagne cocktails seemed an apt theme, given that it’s tax day (considering that the final calculation of my return reversed a substantial debt and turned it into a small refund, I’m in the mood to celebrate), and that this month marks the first anniversary of Mixology Monday events. Oh, what a year it’s been — from pastis to exotica to whiskey, to a shooter event that fizzled — ah, memories. Okay, I’ll stop — on with this month’s drink.

Crimean Cup a la MarmoraI decided to use this month’s theme to dig into one of the few remaining recipes in Ted Haigh’s Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails that I have not yet tried: the Crimean Cup a la Marmora. Actually a punch, the Crimean Cup dates back (in print, anyway) to Jerry Thomas’ The Bar-tender’s Guide, from 1862. While several of the old drinks listed by Thomas lack the pizzazz you find in more modern drinks, the Crimean Cup is a happy exception. Mixing rum, brandy, lemon juice, maraschino and orgeat with champagne and soda water, the cup is a surprisingly light and even-handed punch. From the recipe, it looks rather sweet, but between the champagne and the soda, the sweetness is easily leavened. If you’re not convinced, simply reduce or eliminate the added sugar, or add a touch more lemon juice. This drink is reason itself to keep a bottle or two of bubbly on hand.

Crimean Cup a la Marmora (makes 2 drinks)

Muddle 2 broad slices of lemon peel with a teaspoon of sugar and 1/2 ounce dark Jamaican rum (Haigh suggests Myer’s; I used Appleton V/X, with good results). Add:

  • 1 ounce brandy
  • 1/2 ounce Maraschino liqueur
  • 1/2 ounce Jamaican rum (Appleton again)
  • 2 ounces orgeat
  • 1/2 ounce lemon juice
  • 4 ounces soda water

Stir vigorously and pour into a goblet with 2 or 3 large pieces of ice. Add 3 ounces chilled dry sparkling wine (I only had cava on hand, but it worked well)

Head on over to Anita & Cameron’s place to see what other folks are posting.

MxMo XI: Flipping Out

Why was it that the good folks at Imbibe Unfiltered decided to choose “Winter Warmers” for the theme of this Mixology Monday? Did they somehow foresee that good chunks of the Pacific Northwest — including their base in Portland, and mine in Seattle — would be socked in for days on end with temperatures barely venturing above freezing, and snow and ice still an annoyance nearly a week after its first appearance? (And for those of you in Canada, Maine and Missouri, scoffing at my whining about the cold, remember that this is the rainy Northwest, where you’re forced to swap your heavy winter coat for a thin Gore-Tex slicker before they’ll let you have a driver’s license. And for those of you in New York and environs, having a 70+ degree January: just shut the hell up.) Did they imagine that my office would be without heat this morning, leaving me shivering at the keyboard and chilled to the bone by noon? Or was it simply based on a casual glance at the calendar, along with a theme in their current issue that details a number of ways to defrost in mid-January?

Whatever the reason, I enter this MxMo as icy as a mint julep. On a night like this, a more standard warmer won’t quite hack it — a toddy has horsepower, but not enough gumption to properly beat the chill; a concoction with actual fire seems serious about warmth, but my near-immolation while playing with burning rum several MxMos back has made me leery about getting matches too close to my refreshments; and as appealing as a coffee drink sounds, using it to warm up at the end of a long, cold day would leave me goggle-eyed into the wee hours.

Instead, I need a seriously studied winter warmer, one that dates to an era before thermostats and central heating, designed to create an instant heat deep inside then stick tenaciously to your ribs, warming and soothing for the long haul. It’s time to try a rum flip.

And I do mean trying “a” flip as opposed to “the” flip, because, as with so much else, there are a number of different recipes out there. For mine, I’ll go back as far as I can — to Jerry Thomas’ The Bar Tender’s Guide from 1864 (which, it should be noted, offers two versions of this drink; this recipe is the second, more appealing version):

Rum Flip (verbatim from Thomas)

Keep grated ginger and nutmeg with a little fine dried lemon peel, rubbed together in a mortar.

To make a quart of flip: — Put the ale on the fire to warm, and beat up three or four eggs with four ounces of moist sugar, a teaspoonful of grated nutmeg or ginger, and a gill of good old rum or brandy. When the ale is near to boil, put it into one pitcher, and the rum and eggs, &c., into another; turn it from one pitcher to another till it is as smooth as cream.

The rum flip is closely related to the egg flip, aka the “yard of flannel,” which another shivering PNWer, c at Slakethirst, attempted a while back with mixed reviews. With c’s fair warning mixed with my own curiosity — and my apprehension at drinking something composed mainly of hot beer and eggs — I set out to make my own flip.

First, I scaled down the recipe (see below), as putting away a quart of flip would mean I’d be lying in bed later tonight, bloated and queasy, wishing to god I’d gone with one of the coffee drinks. Next, for the beer: one of the Northwest’s ubiquitous pointy-elbowed hop-bombs of a pale ale seemed out of place in a drink such as this, so instead I chose something smoother and more venerable: Samuel Smith Old Brewery Pale Ale. For the rum, something dark and heavy seemed appropriate, so I pitched in a shot of Gosling’s Black Seal Rum. And for dried lemon peel, as I have none, I went with a bit of fresh.

Rum Flip (my version)

  • 1 egg
  • 8 ounces ale
  • 1 ounce rich simple syrup
  • 1/4 tsp mixed fresh-grated lemon peel and nutmeg
  • 1 ounce dark rum

Beat egg and add sugar, spice and rum. Heat ale to almost boiling, then place in pitcher or large tankard, and pour egg mixture in another pitcher. Carefully — oh, boy, do I mean carefully — pour the contents of one pitcher into another, then pour back and forth until well-mixed.

Warm? Certainly. Weird? Deeply.

Actually, I’d hesitate before calling this drink “deeply weird”. “Deeply” may be putting too fine a point on it; rather, my perception of the flip’s weirdness is probably the result of cognitive dissonance: for most contemporary drinkers such as myself, the notion of “hot beer” is inherently distasteful if not downright repulsive, and it’s hard to get past that long-established bias while snuggling down with a whole mug of it, with some egg for body and some rum for forebearance and some sugar just to make it palatable.

While the flip is unusual, and intriguing, and kind of curious in a way, the flip just keeps announcing over and over, “I’m hot beer! C’mon, have another sip–” which I do, until I just can’t anymore. Thank goodness I kept the rest of the ale in the fridge; the flip’s lingering taste is going to need some scrubbing.

Head on over to Imbibe Unfiltered to see how many folks had better luck with their winter warmers this Mixology Monday.

Holiday Spirit Practically One Hundred Per Cent

Excerpt from “Dancing Dan’s Christmas,” from Blue Plate Special, by Damon Runyon, 1931

Now one time it comes on Christmas, and in fact it is the evening before Christmas, and I am in Good Time Charley Bernstein’s little speakeasy in West Forth-seventh Street, wishing Charley a Merry Christmas and having a few hot Tom and Jerrys with him.

This hot Tom and Jerry is an old-time drink that is once used by one and all in this country to celebrate Christmas with, and in fact it is once so popular that many people think Christmas is invented only to furnish an excuse for hot Tom and Jerry, although of course this is by no means true.

But anybody will tell you that there is nothing that brings out the true holiday spirit like hot Tom and Jerry, and I hear that since Tom and Jerry goes out of style in the United States, the holiday spirit is never quite the same.

The reason hot Tom and Jerry goes out of style is because it is necessary to use rum and one thing and another in making Tom and Jerry, and naturally when rum becomes illegal in this country Tom and Jerry is also against the law, because rum is something that is very hard to get around town these days.

For a while some people try making hot Tom and Jerry without putting rum in it, but somehow it never has the same old holiday spirit, so nearly everybody finally gives up in disgust, and this is not surprising, as making Tom and Jerry is by no means child’s play. In fact, it takes quite an expert to make good Tom and Jerry, and in the days when it is not illegal a good hot Tom and Jerry maker commands good wages and many friends.

Now of course Good Time Charley and I are not using rum in the Tom and Jerry we are making, as we do not wish to do anything illegal. What we are using is rye whisky that Good Time Charley gets on a doctor’s prescription from a drug store, as we are personally drinking this hot Tom and Jerry and naturally we are not foolish enough to use any of Good Time Charley’s own rye in it.

The prescription for the rye whisky comes from old Doc Moggs, who prescribes it for Good Time Charley’s rheumatism in case Charley happens to get any rheumatism, as Doc Moggs says there is nothing better for rheumatism than rye whisky, especially if it is made up in a hot Tom and Jerry. In fact, old Doc Moggs comes around and has a few seidels of hot Tom and Jerry with us for his own rheumatism.

He comes around during the afternoon, for Good Time Charley and I start making this Tom and Jerry early in the day, so as to be sure to have enough to last us over Christmas, and it is now along toward six o’clock, and our holiday spirit is practically one hundred per cent.

Yes, I’ve done the Tom & Jerry before, but in the spirit of the season — and in consideration of the gazillions of people googling for this right now — I wanted to dig out this great Runyon passage that I feeble-mindedly half-remembered last year, and share it with … well, with regular visitors and casual googlers alike.

Tom & Jerry, for a crowd

Batter:

  • 12 eggs, separated
  • 1 pound sugar
  • 2 ounces aged rum (Appleton V/X, Bacardi 8 and Havana Club Anejo work well, along with many others)
  • 1/2 tsp ground cloves
  • 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
  • 1/2 tsp ground allspice (or 1 oz pimento dram)

Beat the egg yolks until thin, and gradually whisk in the sugar. Add the rum & spices. In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff and fold into the yolk mixture until well mixed.

For each drink, put 2 ounces of batter into a toddy mug (you may want to scale that back if using a smaller mug or coffee cup). Add 1 ounce each of brandy and aged rum (or bourbon, or rye, a la Good Time Charley) and fill mug with equal parts hot milk and boiling water. Top with grated nutmeg.

For those keeping score, this is a different recipe than the Audrey Saunders version from last year. Open a dozen cocktail manuals and you’ll find as many different variations on the Tom & Jerry. That’s okay — the punch is easily customized, and the above version is in the direction my personal taste is currently taking me.

Like it sweeter? More sugar. Spicier? Ramp up the allspice and cloves. Richer? More milk, less water. Boozier? You can figure that out. You’ve found the right recipe when it tastes good to you and your guests, and when it leaves your holiday spirit practically one hundred per cent.

Happy Holidays to all–

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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