oot-Fray oops-Lay

I picked up some cachaça the other day, although it's not calling itself cachaça. It's calling itself "Rum Toucano," but as it's not a rhum Agricole, and it's made from sugarcane instead of molasses, I'm calling it a cachaça. And so I decided to try it in a rather experimental way.

While perusing the recipes page for Bittermens bitters, after getting their Boston Bittahs and 'Elemakule Tiki bitters, I found a drink made by Ago Perrone, from Montgomery Place, called "Dolce and Cabana" as it was made with Cabana cachaça. Well, I had my Rum Toucano, and I didn't have any Lillet Rouge, but I did have some Dubonnet Rouge, another quinquana. And I had some bitters that Mr Perrone didn't when he invented the drink. So I did a few little swaps, and came up with this one. I call it "The Loopy Toucan," or, assuming I haven't mangled my Portuguese too badly...

O Tucano Louco

1.5 oz Rum Toucano (or other cachaça)
2/3 oz Dubonnet Rouge
2 dashes Bittermens Grapefruit bitters
2 dashes Bittermens Xocolatl Mole bitters
1 dash Bittermens Boston Bittahs
1 dash simple syrup (preferably made with demerara or unbleached sugar)

Stir all with ice and strain into coupe. Garnish with a lemon twist (expressed over the drink first, please) and a cherry or two.

There are a lot of flavors and noses in this cachaça vying for attention, lots of citrus, lots of spice. And by using so many bitters, and by using the sweet but complex notes from the Dubonnet, you really cater to all of them. It's a very complicated drink, with fruit and lemon and black pepper notes. It's almost like a nice añejo tequila with some sips, but quite different with others. I really kind of like this one. Not bad for just futzing around with swapping in what I had on hand. Perhaps on my next go-round, I'll replace the Xocolatl Mole bitters with the 'Elemakule bitters and see what the spices bring to the party...

Mixology Monday August: Brown, Bitter and Stirred

So I've been gone from this blog almost a month, but that's nothing compared to MxMo...they've been in absentia since MAY! Though, in their defense, there was Tales of the Cocktail and the summer heat in there...they probably were busy and/or drunk. But I repeat myself. Anyway, there's a new MxMo challenge out there, hosted by Lindsey Johnson of Lush Life Productions at her blog, Brown, Bitter and Stirred. And thus she has chosen an eponymous challenge. To make a drink that's brown, bitter and (preferably) stirred.

So I've decided to offer up a drink I've been kicking around (appropriately) since May, and decided that it's good enough to share. It's a variant on a drink called "La Mañana Después" that's served at The Gibson in Washington D.C., which is itself a variation on the Savoy's Fernet Cocktail. The Fernet is made with gin, but The Gibson makes it with blanco tequila. I made it with añejo tequila. While "La Mañana Después" is supposed to be a drink for the morning after, suffering from a hangover, I've used añejo tequila, which is aged anywhere from a year and a day to a day short of three years. Since I got it sometime after it stopped aging, instead of "La Mañana Después," "The Day After" I've called it "Tres Años Después" or "Three Years Later."

Tres Años Después

2 oz añejo tequila
1/2 oz Fernet Branca
2/3 oz sweet vermouth
2/3 oz dry vermouth
1 dash Fee Brothers orange bitters
1 dash Bittermens Grapefruit bitters
1 dash Bittermens Boston Bittahs

Stir all well with ice, strain into an Old Fashioned glass containing a single ice cube.

It's smoky, it's citrusy, it's bitter, it's wonderful. The Bittermens Boston Bittahs, which are a new ingredient for this blog, are citrus, more citrus, and a little extra citrus for good measure, with a backbone of chamomile. They're really wonderful, and worth every penny it takes to get them (and it really doesn't take all that many).

The only rule is you have to listen to Arthur Lyman while you make this

Aloha, you boozehounds, you. Apologies for the delay in posting again...I just can't keep up with the pace I established last year.

Anyway, today I've got an excellent drink for you, and one that I can finally make properly thanks to a little bit of luck. A while back, I entered a giveaway that Blair "Trader Tiki" Reynolds was running on Facebook...one lucky winner would get a care package with all of his currently available syrups. Lady Luck was on my side, as I'd picked up her bar tab the night before (man, that girl can drink!) and I soon had seven bottles winging their way to me; Don's Spices #2, Don's Mix, Vanilla Syrup, Cinnamon Syrup, Orgeat Syrup, Passion Fruit Syrup, and Hibiscus Grenadine. So yes, for those keeping track at home, these were a freebie, but not because I'm awesome, or because the Trader was trying to butter me up, but simply because I'm lucky. Trust me, I'm nowhere near a big enough fish in the booze-blogging pond to merit freebies from anyone. All that being said, let's get on to the drink, shall we?

I went with one that would let me use a couple of the Trader's syrups, the Passion Fruit and the Hibiscus Grenadine. This is a cocktail that dates from about 1961 or so, at the Kahiki in Columbus, OH, and it's a blender drink (gasp!) called:

The Port Light

1 oz fresh lemon juice
1/2 oz passion fruit syrup
1/4 oz grenadine
1 1/2 oz bourbon (I actually used rye, but who's counting?)
8 oz (1 cup) crushed ice

Put all ingredients in a blender and process on high for 5 seconds. Pour it, without straining, into a tall glass, adding more crushed ice if necessary to fill.

(recipe adapted from Jeff Berry and Annene Kaye, Beachbum Berry's Grog Log, p.66)

Oh man, this is a beautiful drink. Tart, sweet, ice cold, what more could you ask for? The passion fruit syrup just punches you in the nose with a ripe fruit flavor when you open the bottle, and the grenadine is sweet and bright, with an additional floral tartness from the hibiscus. I used rye in this drink, because it's what I had on hand, but even so, the syrups and lemon juice more than hold their own against it. It's kind of a Polynesian Ward Eight, and sipping one of these on a summer night with fireflies twinkling and Martin Denny or Arthur Lyman on the HiFi is going to be a little slice of heaven by way of some exotic port of call.

I'm very much looking forward to trying the other Trader Tiki syrups when I can get enough varieties of rum to do them justice in all sorts of Tiki drinks!

(FCC disclaimer: the branded products named in this post were received at no cost to me, not for review or promotional consideration purposes, but as a prize in a random giveaway.)

"Well, help yourself...because of the debt of honor to General Lafayette!"

"You know your own history, right?

You don't know who he is, do you?! What was it? The Spanish-American War? The French Banana War? What? The Revolutionary War! Hung out with Washington. Lafayette. Street named after him in New York. Forget it!"

Yes, only a warped mind would think "Oh, America's Independence Day! Let's reference a British transvestite comedian! It'll be brilliant!" Lucky for you, dear readers, you're dealing with a mind that is precisely that warped.

I've missed you! Have you missed me? No? Oh well. I've also missed being able to taste and being able to go ten minutes without coughing, sneezing or generally wanting to vacuum out various body cavities with a straw duct-taped to a shop-vac. Stupid sinuses. Stupid lungs.

Anyway, I'm rambling. Sorry. That quote above from Eddie Izzard really is germane to the post tonight though. Because I enjoy being contrary, and thought I'd post a drink named after General Lafayette. My understanding of this drink is that it's intended to be a blending of US culture and French culture (with a little West Indies thrown in for good measure) and so it seems fitting. On the 234th anniversary of the final approval of the text of America's Declaration of Independence (the signing didn't actually happen until August 2nd), I give you:

The Lafayette Cocktail

1 1/2 oz rye whiskey
1/2 oz dry vermouth
1/2 oz Dubonnet (rouge)
1 dash Angostura bitters (I added a dash of Bittercube's Jamaican Bitters #2, as well)

Stir all well with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

The rye is very much an American spirit, and the Dubonnet and dry vermouth, of course, are French. The bitters, well, they're of Caribbean origin, but we'll let that slide...some Colonial Americans were, too, after all.

Taste-wise, it's pretty much a dry Manhattan, but the quinquina nature of the Dubonnet makes it a little bit different. Still, there are definitely worse ways to toast the nascent events that started my country on the often rocky road to independence. Happy Independence Day, to my American readers, and I hope my foreign readers will raise their glasses, too...America may not be perfect, but lord knows we've tried, and that's gotta count for something.

just so you know...

I have not been silent because I hate you all, or because The Man came down on my or anything like that. I've been silent because I've been super-busy with work and because I've had a head and chest cold that rendered me pretty much incapable of tasting anything less nuanced than, say, a very garlicky marinara sauce. Once my nose declogs and my lungs empty themselves, I shall resume.

Thanks, as always, for you patience, gang.

Not the "chirp, tweet" kind.

I managed to get to a great liquor store in my area, one that has the widest selection of amari (bitter liqueurs, traditionally Italian) that I've found anywhere nearby. And in lieu of getting a $29 bottle of Campari, even though I really wanted to get one, I opted instead for a little more than kin and at a price more kind...Luxardo makes a similar product called, simply, Bitter. Both Campari and Luxardo Bitter (and their lower-proof cousin, Aperol, which is also owned by the Campari group, now) are bitter apertif liqueurs, that have a lot of flavorings in them, lots of herbs, and a noticeable bitter and sweet orange note. The most famous drink that's made with Campari (or its substitutes) is a Negroni; equal measures of gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari. It's good, but I tend to find sweet vermouth to be a little cloying sometimes. And so I nosed around a little more and found this relative. Not quite 1:1:1 ratios of the three ingredients, it's named, I presume, for its color, and most likely for the clergy who wear it. Less likely is the notion that it's named for the bird. Though red, the avian Cardinal is not italian and likely does not drink. I add a dash of orange bitters just to bring out that note a little more in my Luxardo Bitter.

The Cardinal Cocktail

1 oz London dry gin
3/4 oz dry vermouth
3/4 oz Luxardo Bitter/Campari/Aperol
dash of orange bitters

stir all well with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

The Bitter is certainly bitter...there's a note in there that recalls Fernet Branca...but it's also sweet, and citrusy, and refreshing. It's a surprisingly subtle drink, and one that I think will fare very well over the summer, as temperatures rise and the sun beats down and turns my skin the color of Campari. Pass the lidocaine.

I'm like a crackhead, but for ginger.

I made a trip to World Market today. And I bought a whole bunch of ginger stuff. Ginger candy, ginger cookies, sodas with ginger as an ingredient. Also the new cocktail glass featured tonight. And then I went to the grocery store on my way home to get lettuce for my pet rabbits, and lo and behold, there was a new ginger liqueur there, made by Stirrings. I can't find anything on their website about it, but they had some other liqueurs, as well; pomegranate, triple sec, peach, apple, and one other one that I can't recall at the moment. All proclaimed that they were natural, and all looked pretty good (although the apple liqueur was that alarming shade of green we've sadly come to expect from apple-flavored anything. Curse you, Jolly Ranchers!). So I picked that up and decided to experiment with it.

I can't find out what the base is, but I'm assuming it's neutral grain spirits, rather than the cognac that Domaine de Canton is made from. The nose, however, is a much sharper, stronger ginger than the Canton. It's got a little fire to it! I used a drink called the Chatham Cocktail as a starting point for this, but since I'm not using ginger-flavored brandy, I made this one mine. Named after an area that's now part of NYC's Chinatown, I'm calling it:

The Chatham Square Cocktail

2.5 oz Plymouth gin
.75 oz Stirrings Ginger Liqueur
.75 oz lemon juice
3 dashes Fee Brothers orange bitters (cheaper than Angostura's but not as good. They're what I've got on hand, though)
3 drops Peychaud's or Angostura bitters, for garnish

Shake all save for the Peychaud's/Angostura with ice, strain into a 7.5 oz cocktail glass, and gently float 3 drops of your choice of bitters on top.

The ginger is very very strong with this drink...kitty wants to play! I really like it, though, because it stands up well to both the Plymouth and the lemon juice. The orange bitters round out the citrus notes a bit, and depending if you go with the Angostura or the Peychaud's, you'll get a slight spice or anise nose from the drink as you bring it up for a sip. I quite like it!

Trying to sneak in under the wire...

Although by calling attention to the fact I'm trying to sneak in, I've just blown my cover. Ah, well...

I completely spaced, and lost track of time, and as a result, have technically missed May's Mixology Monday. The theme this month? Tom Waits.

I know, crazy, huh? But still, inextricably linked with liquor. Even after having laid off the sauce himself.

So I rummaged around in my memory banks, entertaining notions of creating a "Piano Has Been Drinking" cocktail, but no. Instead I went with another hoary old Waits tune (maybe not old, but definitely hoary) and have created:

Frank's Wild Years Cocktail

1 oz Rittenhouse 80° rye whiskey
1/4 oz Fernet Branca
1/4 oz orgeat syrup
1/4 oz sweet vermouth
1 dash Bittermens grapefruit bitters

Stir all well with ice, strain into scrupulously chilled shot glass

i started with that classic, the Franciuli Cocktail, and modified it a bit to make it suitable for Frank's Wild Years...the Fernet is scaled back a bit, and the sweetness quotient is upped a little, to better contrast with the bitter characters of the amaro that the Fernet brings to the party. The slight citrus tang of the grapefruit bitters counters the sweetness of the orgeat. All in all, a slightly off kilter flavor, with an aftertaste that somehow suggests the zen-likes notes of green tea, but one that's uniquely suited to pay tribute to Mr. Tom Waits.

Step into my office, baby...I'm big in Japan...

Spring has sprung, the grass is riz...

...I wonder where dem boidies is?

Today was finally spring-like weather in my neck of the woods, topping 70°F, and generally being pleasant and agreeable outside. The trees and lawns have greened up nicely, and there's enough pollen in the air to put an allergic elephant down.

Therefore, in such a time as this it is most meet to trot out an appropriately themed libation. And I just so happened to pick up one of the ingredients today, as a reward to myself for donating blood and being such a swell guy (plus it was on sale!); Plymouth Gin.

Plymouth is a little different from a lot of other gins on the market today...I find it hard to quantify the differences, but Wikipedia notes that "[i]t has a distinctively different, slightly less-dry flavour than the much more commonly available London Dry Gin, as it contains a higher than usual proportion of root ingredients, which bring a more 'earthy' feel to the gin, as well as a smoother juniper hit." Plymouth themselves credit the flavor to a unique blend of juniper berries, lemon and orange peel, orris root (the root of an iris plant), angelica root, cardamom, and coriander. All are traditional gin ingredients, but they play up the earthiness and sweetness of the blend, and dial back the juniper a bit. Still, a most excellent drink, especially in a Gin Pahit (pink gin).

Anyway, on to tonight's drink:

Spring Feeling Cocktail

3/4 oz lemon juice
3/4 oz green Chartreuse
1 1/2 oz Plymouth gin
dash of Grapefruit Bitters

shake all well with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass.

Truly a green and spring-like drink. Herbaceous, tart, bracing. Yes, this will do quite nicely. Greetings, o springy cocktail! Would you like to ride with Batman? Yes, you'd like that, wouldn't you?

Er, sorry. Got carried away there a bit.

Not much to say about such a simple drink, apart from "GO MAKE ONE!"

...and cue Pee-Wee Herman in the platform shoes!

I picked up a new spirit last night. Well, not new, but one that I haven't touched since college, and swore, for the longest time, that I would never touch again.

You guessed it. Tequila.

I'd wager not a few of you, dear readers, have had a run in with some spirit or another that you consumed in, shall we say, "injudicious amounts" and that you vowed you would never drink again. For me, and for tequila, it wasn't so much that I drank too much of it, it was just between the rotgut that passes for tequila on many college campuses, and the ridiculous salt-lick-lime ritual, I did not see any redeeming qualities in the stuff.

But, as so frequently happens, I read more and more articles about it and wondered if perhaps I'd been too hasty in shutting it out. Reposado tequila, which has been "rested" in oak barrels, sounded intriguing, because who doesn't want a well-rested drink? Also nifty-sounding was añejo tequila, "aged" for between 1 year and a day shy of three years, also in oak. Then you start getting into über-premium tequilas, ones that I could never hope to afford, ones like extra-añejo, aged for more than three years. Considering that'd make it much older than this blog, it's quite understandably out of my range. But my friendly neighborhood Costco, believe it or not, had a store branded, 100% Agave, añejo tequila for a quite reasonable price, and I thought it might just be time to see if my dislike of the spirit wasn't maybe a bit irrational.

Well, the spirit by itself is really something. It's sort of like bourbon after being aged in those oak barrels, but a little sharper, a little black peppery, even. Tasty, and nothing like the colorless lighter fluid I sampled in college. Clearly my old grudge was founded on a simple misunderstanding. This was not some paint-thinner suited only for washing down cheap bear (I'm looking at you, Milwaukee's Best!) but something that was quite suitable for sipping on ice with nothing to sully it at all.

But you all know that I like mixing stuff! So I dug around for some drinks that used añejo tequila. And believe it or not, most people don't want to sully it by mixing it! But I found a few that used a minimum of ingredients, chosen to let the spirit shine through. And the one I'm sharing tonight is a variant on a great, much-beloved classic.

Añejo Tequila Old-Fashioned

3 oz añejo tequila
1 teaspoon agave nectar
4 dashes Peychaud's bitters
3 spritzes Urban Moonshine citrus bitters (or 2 dashes orange bitters)
2 dashes Jamaican bitters (or grapefruit bitters)

Stir all well with ice, strain into ice-filled double Old-Fashioned glass. Garnish, if desired, with a strip of grapefruit peel.

Damn, that's a smooth one. That peppery character pokes out, but it's tempered by the agave nectar (a natural fit in this drink) and the citrus and grapefruit really lift it up and give it a clean, fresh character. I'm utterly ashamed for having misjudged tequila for as long as I did, and I hope my Scrooge-on-Christmas-morning mindset may extend to other things.

But it probably won't. Bah humbug.

Around the world in less than four fluid ounces

I managed to finally get my hands on a new bottle of Fernet Branca, much to my joy and relief. Believe it or not, the last time I made it to my local liquor store that carried it, they had sold out of six bottles, their entire stock, in just a few days. Which astonished me, as pretty much nobody likes the stuff, save for San Franciscans, Argentineans, and a few lunatics like me. Happily, when I returned a few days ago,they had plenty in stock, and for four bucks less than some other stores I'd visited. So I was a happy lush. I had the obligatory Hanky Panky with it, and was pondering what else I might use it for. Then I figured, "Hey, why not come up with an original cocktail?" And so I listened to myself, and did.

This is another one that seems odd until you try it, and then you find everything fits together quite well. Considering all the disparate cultural influences it has, I call it:

The Globetrotter Cocktail

2 1/2 oz rye whiskey
3/4 oz sweet vermouth
2 barspoons (about a scant 1/4 oz) Fernet Branca
3 dashes Donn's Tinc

Stir all well with ice, and strain into an ice-filled Double Old-Fashioned glass.

So let's see. We've got American rye whiskey, sweet vermouth (Italian or French, depending on who made it), a bitter Italian amaro in the Fernet Branca, and a sort of faux-Polynesia in the Donn's Tinc. Hardly a likely combination. But. But. The spice of the tincture melds with the vermouth and the Fernet and the rye. The citrus zing from the grapefruit in the Donn's Tinc sings out over the Fernet Branca at the same time. The sweetness of the vermouth rounds out the bitter character of the Fernet. I'll be the first to admit it's another drink that doesn't seem like it should work. But, quite fortunately for me, it does. Which is good, because I hate pouring rotten experiments down the drain.

"Sittin' here in Avalon, lookin' at the pouring rain..."

Look! I'm back! And I have a drink for you!

Yes, I know it's been an entire month since my last post, and it's horrible, and you've gone un-tippled for entirely too long. My apologies. As I said in my interstitial update a couple weeks back, I've been busy and broke. But I rummaged through my remaining booze inventory and the list of drinks I've wanted to post but haven't yet, and I came across a wonderful convergence of the two.

This is one of those drinks that's more than the sum of its parts...you look at the ingredient list and go "Oh, no. It'll be too sweet/too herbal/too sour/too weird." But no. It turns out to be some impossible balance of all of those. This is a true Prohibition-era cocktail, and it's called:

The Last Word

3/4 oz London dry gin
3/4 oz green Chartreuse
3/4 oz lime juice
3/4 oz Maraschino liqueur

Shake all with ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass

All of those unlikely ingredients work together in an most unlikely harmony, and it's really sort of magical. Typically, using that much Maraschino is a death sentence on a cocktail, making it syrupy sweet and repugnant, but here it counteracts the grassy herbal nature of the Chartreuse and the sourness of the lime juice. For a switch up, Paul Clarke over at "The Cocktail Chronicles" suggests swapping rye for the gin and lemon juice for the lime. That sounds like it'd bring it into swinging distance of The Scoff Law Cocktail, but still, different enough.

Give it a whirl. And no, despite the ominous drink name, I'm not going anywhere...I'm just working to get some more money so I can buy more ingredients.

a thousand apologies...

I'm knee-deep in a show, and I'm broke. What else can I say? I'm pretty much out of booze, but once I get a paycheck and take care of bills, I'll endeavor to get a new drink made up and posted. I'm not dead! My pocketbook is, however.

Pip pip cheerio and Barnard's your uncle...

-C

Happy Anniversary to Me!

Tonight makes it the First Anniversary of this little ol' cocktail blog. And so far, I've not made any Cosmopolitans. And I've not used any wire hangers. And I aim to keep on with that.

But for tonight, I thought I'd go back to the early days of this endeavor and correct a horrible wrong I did to a poor, defenseless drink. The very first drink I posted, in fact. I mixed up, on the morning of March 30th, 2009, the day after I created the blog and posted the introductory entry, a makeshift version of a cocktail from David Wondrich's "Esquire Drinks" wherein I substituted bourbon for brandy, dropped the amount of dry vermouth in accordance with what I had on hand, and added lemon juice. Yeah. That turned out to be okay...but it was not the drink that it purported to be.

So I thought tonight I'd rectify that, and post a properly made version of this drink tonight. So that you can see what it should be, rather than the strange, mutant bourbon sour it wound up being. And so, I give you the proper version of the Metropole Cocktail. Named after a "somewhat lively" hotel in New York that went bankrupt in 1912, a scant week after it saw one of its regulars murdered. Morbid as that is, it always makes me think of The Happiness Hotel from "The Great Muppet Caper." Only without Muppets getting killed (we'll leave that to "Meet the Feebles").

The Metropole Cocktail

1 1/2 oz brandy
1 1/2 oz dry vermouth
1 dash orange bitters
2 dashes Peychaud's bitters
cherry for garnish

Stir all save cherry with cracked ice and strain into chilled glass. garnish, if desired, with cherry.

I'll admit to not being much of a brandy connoisseur...my uncle drinks it like it's going out of style, and my home state is one of the biggest consumers of brandy, per capita, in the US. We even make Old Fashioneds with brandy and mashed up fruit. But I digress. Despite the rosy hue, this is not a girly drink. Nor is it sweet. It winds up being quite a dry drink...very acerbic, not sweet at all, but very layered...there's the vermouth and the faint anise notes from the Peychauds, and a touch of sweetness from the brandy, a little citrus from the orange bitters, but nothing really dominates the drink. I think that makes it really interesting, frankly. It's complex and sort of mysterious. I like it!

Thanks for sticking with me for this first year of blogging, everyone, and I hope that I'll continue to hold your interest. If I don't, well, it's not like I'm puttin' a gun to your heads or anything. You'll just miss out on all sorts of new and interesting drinks.