MxMo Vermouth: The flower with the power
I’ve been a bad blogger recently, what with the infrequent updates and all (though I’m still writing regularly over at Serious Eats), but even after spending a busy day writing about booze and a busy evening judging a cocktail contest for Domain de Canton (congratulations, Jay!), I’ve still got to log in to WordPress for two basic reasons: first, it’s Mixology Monday, and I have yet to miss a MxMo post in the three-plus years it’s been going (we’ll ignore that whole “isn’t Paul hosting the July event?” thing from this summer, when I foolishly offered to host right after Tales of the Cocktail); and two, this event is hosted by Vidiot at Cocktailians, and he has selected a topic that’s truly close to my drinkin’ heart: Vermouth.
In addition to writin’ about vermouth and talkin’ about vermouth at events like Tales of the Cocktail, I’m a fan of drinking vermouth — both on its own as an aperitif while I’m cooking dinner, and in big glugs or tiny dribbles when making cocktails. But there’s one thing I wish there was more of in this world: cocktails that used vermouth as the primary ingredient.
Oh, sure, there are the assorted aperitif cocktails — your Bamboo, your Adonis, and things of that nature — but drinks that use the mild character of vermouth as a foundation for stronger-flavored spirits and liqueurs are relatively few in number.
I’ve already written about a couple of my favorite vermouth-based drinks, the Trilby and the Appetizer a la Italienne; here’s another that was introduced to me by Jim Meehan from PDT, a drink I touched on a couple of years back in an article about absinthe I wrote for Imbibe (the photo of this drink that accompanied the story is shown in this screen shot, and was taken by the immensely talented Stuart Mullenberg — I’m showing it partially because it’s freakin’ awesome, but also because I’m way too lazy to set up a photo after such a long day) and that I still like to pull out from time to time: the Chrysanthemum.
I’m hardly the first blogger to prepare a Chrysanthemum, but the drink is so damn tasty I hope I’m not the last. As I mentioned during our recent Vodka-oriented Mixology Monday, in drinks like the Chrysanthemum dry vermouth plays a role not unlike that played today by vodka in drinks like the Drink Without a Name or the Gypsy: it’s a relatively quiet ingredient that serves to diffuse the flavors of louder ingredients such as, in this case, Benedictine and absinthe. But unlike vodka, vermouth serves a couple of other functions: first, it’s lower in alcohol, so it reduces the bombast further, helping a combination of strong-flavored ingredients merge together; and it has its own flavor and complexity, which brings more to the bibulous table than simple alcoholic firepower — in this case, a kind of lean floral aspect that complements the herbaceousness of the Benedictine without challenging its alpha-dog properties.
Anyway, don’t take my word for it — mix one and see for yourself. But a note on the preparation: the Savoy Cocktail Guide and other books of its vintage list this as a two-to-one vermouth-to-Benedictine drink. Depending on your taste, this may weigh in on the sweet side; Meehan recommended shaving the Benedictine back to a quarter-ounce, and your palate may find joy anywhere between those two levels — in other words, play with it until you find what works for you.
Chrysanthemum
- 2 ounces dry vermouth (Dolin’s all the rage right now, but Noilly Prat shouldn’t be underestimated in this drink)
- 1 ounce Benedictine
- 1 teaspoon absinthe
Stir with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Deploy a large swath of orange peel over the drink and use as garnish.
That’s where I like to go with vermouth-based drinks nowadays. Head on over to Vidiot’s place to see what other folks came up with for this round of Mixology Monday.
Now if you’ve sampled the
Here’s Palomino’s recipe, which I included in my Imbibe piece last summer. One note: as listed, this makes a fairly large drink. You can easily scale it back by nudging the rum back to 1 1/2 ounces and the vermouth and liqueur to 3/4 ounce; scale back the bubble water accordingly, but don’t skip the lime twist — those bitter oils provide another layer of complexity to an already blammo drink.
Fernet Branca so thoroughly takes over most cocktails that I was attracted to its use as the foundation for this drink — especially seeing how it was paired with equal parts of dry and sweet vermouth, and
But, a year or so back, I was served a variation on this drink by Jamie Boudreau. Jamie freshened up the CR1 by using pommeau de normandie in place of the apple brandy; this reduced the alcohol level of the cocktail, making it a bit more managable, while also bumping up the fruitiness factor without adding extra sweetness. Rounded off with peach bitters and Angostura, and the Corpse Reviver #1 had a — sorry again — new lease on life. Here’s Jamie’s version, the Naramata:
I tried a few versions of this drink; while the impulse is always there to reach for a premium vermouth like Carpano Antica, it most assuredly does not work in this cocktail. The Antica has such a strong flavor that it overwhelms the pommeau; instead I used Martini & Rossi as it’s my workhorse sweet vermouth, and it seemed to work well in this drink. Also, I eschewed the cognac recommendation and instead went with Armagnac, reasoning that the more rugged, earthy flavor could lend an interesting angle to the drink. I doubt I could tell a Naramata made with cognac from one made with armagnac in a blind tasting, but the Armagnac did its job well and I have no complaints.



