Yellow journalism, red drink.

William Randolph Hearst was a newspaper magnate who never let the facts stand in the way of a good story. He's got a drink named after him already, though, so we'll move along. One of his enduring legacies, however, was "yellow journalism," wherein legitimate news was soft-pedaled, and attention-grabbing, sensational headlines were elevated to above the fold. Perhaps the most egregious example was how the unverified (and as yet unproven) assertion that the USS Maine exploded in Havana harbor due to a bomb or torpedo, an assertion which helped to touch off the Spanish-American War. A popular rallying cry became "Remember the Maine, to hell with Spain!" Not terribly clever, but catchy. So much so, it seems, that "Remember the Maine" became the name of a cocktail. And it tastes pretty good, too.

Remember the Maine

2 oz Bourbon whiskey (or rye, which I prefer)
3/4 oz sweet vermouth
1/4 oz Cherry Heering
dash of Pernod
2 dashes of Angostura bitters

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

Between the spiciness of the rye, the sweetness of the vermouth, the back of the throat tartness of the Heering, and the anise notes of the Pernod, you've got a lot going on in this drink. Happily, the elements work pretty harmoniously, as long as you don't overdo the Pernod. I wouldn't make a habit of drinking this every day, but it's one to keep in mind for an occasional tipple, especially when you want something a little different.

Hey gang, long time no see!

So...I'm into rehearsals, and the play is going to be awesome. But you're not here for news about my theatrical career, you're here for drinks! And to oblige, I'm offering a tiki drink, from Don the Beachcomber's vault, way back in 1941. It's called the Test Pilot, and it's made as follows:

Test Pilot

1/2 oz fresh lime juice
1/2 oz falernum (use a scant 1/2 oz if homemade like mine)
1 tablespoon Cointreau
dash of Angostura bitters
1/8 teaspoon Pernod
3/4 oz light Puerto Rican or Cuban (-style) rum (I cheated this a bit and used Pyrat XO Reserve)
1 1/2 oz dark Jamaican rum (cheated this a little, too, and used Gosling's Black Seal)

Blend all with 1 cup of crushed ice for 5 seconds, then pour it into a double old-fashioned glass. Add a little more crushed ice to fill, and garnish as you like, though a cherry is pretty much all you need.

Now I know you're all going "a blender drink?!" And usually I'm not crazy about blender drinks, because they make noise and are a pain to clean up after, and generally imply that you're going to take inferior ingredients and make a liquor-filled smoothie out of them. However, it is possible to have good blender drinks, and the Test Pilot is a stellar example of one. First off...it's COLD. Which is always good. Secondly, you've gotten a little bit more air in there, and made some of the more inaccessible flavors open up a tiny bit. Third, you've got tiny bits of ice melting all at once, helping to dilute the drink...and it needs it...there's a fair amount of liquor in this puppy. The bitters and Pernod sort of skulk around like good little henchmen, making you aware that something's there, but not really identifying themselves. The two rums, the falernum, the Cointreau and the lime all chime in at various points, making for a tremendously complex but ultimately awesome drink. Do take it out for a spin, won't you?

Monkey Gland v. 2.0?

In the 1920s, a "fad drink" was making the rounds in Paris. It was called the Monkey Gland. To make a long story short, this was the sort of the "Slippery Nipple" of the time, a titillating name and nothing too special to back it up. Long story short, the name came about from a certain "doctor" (and I use the term loosely) who was transplanting monkey testicles into humans, with the notion that it may pump up the libido of the recipient. Sounds like a good recipe for Ebola, but that's just me. For more info on the drink, see Darcy O'Neil's post on his blog, "The Art of Drink."

So, I got to thinking on this one...it never really caught on here in the US, I think in part due to the already increased stigma on absinthe, an ingredient which was barely used in the original, but was thought to have some serious mind-warping juju in its depths. If it did come to the states, though, it probably would have come in through New Orleans, because with transplanted monkey parts, it sounds like voodoo already. So here's a small, more cordial, slightly more exotic take on the Monkey Gland; call it:

Monkey Gland v. 2.0

1 oz gin
1 oz orange juice
dash of Pernod (or absinthe if you have it)
dash of raspberry syrup
dash of Peychaud's bitters
3-5 drops of black pepper and orange extract*

stir all ingredients together with ice and strain into a cordial cup.

*to make this, just mix 1/2 tsp mixed peppercorns (some crushed, some whole) and 1/4 tsp of dried orange peel for every two ounces of overproof rum, let steep for a week, and then strain through a coffee filter.

Well, it turned out OK, but as Darcy says in his post, it's basically gin n' juice with a dollop of anise. The raspberry syrup's there for color more than anything, and the bitters and black pepper/orange extract, while present, are left kind of going "Well...here we are, Bartleby. What now?" (I have no idea who Bartleby is...he just showed up.)

So I got to thinking some more...what could I do to make it a little more interesting? And then it occurred to me...why not use some of the berry shrub base instead of the raspberry syrup? It'll add some more personality, and some more complexity, with the berries and vinegar playing off the rest...so here's:

Monkey Gland v. 2.1

1 oz gin
3/4 oz orange juice
3/8 oz berry shrub base
1/8 oz Pernod or absinthe
dash Peychaud's bitters
5 drops black pepper and orange extract

This one has a lot more appeal...it's not nearly so sweet for one, and it's got a lot more depth. The black pepper extract adds a little bit of heat right at the end, but not enough that you go "Why is there pepper in my drink, Bartleby? Did you get me a strange Bloody Mary? Is this some kind of new Sangrita?" The modified version's not quite got the same electrified hue of the original...it's a bit mellower due to the less refined nature of the shrub base blotting out some of the more fluorescent aspects of the raspberry syrup, but it more than makes up for being not quite as vibrant appearance-wise in the flavor department.

It's definitely worth a try...if you didn't, I'd say you were bananas.

Elect-ile Dysfunction

West Palm Beach. Election. Troubles deciphering ballots. Trying to sex chads. Swinging? Hanging? Pregnant? Tri-chad? Oh, those crazy November days of...1960?!

Yep.

Seems that 40 years before the big dust-up in Florida electoral history, there was another sorry-ass chapter. In the aftermath of all that deciphering, a precinct captain in Palm Beach Lakes decided to create a drink to help unwind at the end of the day, and lo, the Swinging Chad was born.

Swinging Chad

2 oz golden Puerto Rican rum (or Cuban, if you know a guy who knows a guy)
2 oz unsweetened pineapple juice
2 dashes Angostura bitters
1 dash Pernod

Stir well with cracked ice and pour, unstrained, into a Collins glass. Top up with ginger ale, add a straw, and garnish it with a paper umbrella with little rectangles cut out of it.

It's a silly looking thing, but it's not too bad. As long as you don't go too heavy with the Pernod, this is a pretty well balanced, interestingly spicy concoction, one that's got enough magic going on that it's hard to pick out individual flavors. I'd say it's more of an occasional drink, though, rather than a twice or thrice a week tipple...as the Emperor said to Mozart..."too many notes."

Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship...

Humphrey Bogart: a man's man. Drinker, smoker, fighter, lover, a tough guy with an all-too-human heart. Ok, that's enough waxing rhapsodic, you're here for drinks, not a hagiography. I began with that introduction because tonight's drink is a little number called the Bogey. It's really a combination of all sorts of elements from other cocktails; a chunk of Martini here, a dash of Manhattan there, it's whimsical, but it makes for a good tipple.

Bogey
1 oz gin
1 oz dry vermouth
1/4 oz bourbon
1/4 oz Pernod
dash of lemon juice

Add all the ingredients to a mixing glass full of ice, introduce it to a bar spoon and stir until well chilled. Strain into a cocktail glass.

This is one of those drinks that you'd think would just taste like an amalgam of all it's ingredients, but it's really quite subtle. It's pretty much impossible to describe, but it'd be a great one to make at home, or see if your friendly neighborhood bartender can do it justice. It's a fairly uncommon drink, which is a pity, because it's got potential. Give it a whirl.

This drink travels directly to...The Twilight Zone.

I was reading an old Thursday Drink Night post earlier this evening from late February, dealing with adding rinses to the inside of your glass before adding the cocktail itself...and I got to pondering...last night we played around with Pernod and noted that between that and the gin, there were a ton of extracts and herbal ingredients in it. So how many varieties of multiple extracts could I have in one drink and still have it taste good? I decided that I was just crazy enough to find out, and so I created another drink tonight! There's no photo, because it's really nothing special to look at, but it's worth trying if only to see if it cures your bursitis or something.

The Potential Monteleone Cocktail

For the rinse:
6 drops pimento dram
6 drops spice extract or falernum
6 drops Pernod
2 drops Peychaud's bitters

For the drink:
1 3/4 oz jenever-style gin
1/4 oz bourbon
1/4 oz dry vermouth
dash orange bitters
dash Angostura bitters

Swirl the rinse around in your prettiest cordial glass as far up the sides as possible, then pour out the rest. Shake the remaining ingredients with ice and strain into your glass.

This is really a weird, but good concoction. The nose is so at odds with the flavor that it's got this weird little cognitive dissonance thing going on, which I really like. The scent is very spicy, sweet, all nutmeg and allspice and cinnamon and star anise...and then the flavor is very dry and ascerbic, with a little bit of sweetness from the bourbon and a little fruit from the orange bitters. I'd almost use this as a digestif in its current size, or double it and have it with a splash of club soda as a larger size cocktail.

If you're in an experimental, mind-warp kind of mood, you could do worse than this drink. Not bad for a made up on the spot drink.

UPDATE! Dateline: El Cinco De Mayo 2009 [insert newsroom sound effects here] I'm entering this drink in a contest, and it has thus been renamed. It was "The Voodoo PuPu Platter" but it is now the "Potential Monteleone Cocktail" to reflect the contest in question.

If someone wants a drink that tastes like candy, serve them this!

Growing up, I remember my grandparents had some unusual varieties of candy. Mercifully, I never had circus peanuts inflicted upon me, but I did have spice drops. Remember those? Little dome shaped, sugar encrusted pieces of gummy candy? And no matter what the color, they all tasted the same? It wasn't a bad flavor, but it was distinctive. I'd forgotten all about those until I sampled tonight's drink...a drink that contains a spirit I've never had before; Pernod.

I'll confess, I looked for a miniature bottle of Pernod because I knew that it was an anisette, a sort of licorice-on-crack flavored liquid, and to be honest, black licorice is not one of my favorite foods. Sadly, there were no mini bottles to be found (frankly, I'm not sure if they even exist), so I figured I'd just bite the bullet, stop worrying and learn to love Pernod. Well my worrying proved unfounded, because while the nose of Pernod is full of licorice, the flavor is not nearly as monotone as that. And tonight's drink, cheerfully called "William Seabrook's Asylum," makes for quite the unusual, but intriguing, cocktail.

Pernod, like it's big brother absinthe, and cousin ouzo, is a liquor that louches, or clouds up when it's introduced to water. It makes for some pretty effects, especially in the Asylum. You'll notice on looking at the ingredients, that, despite containing grenadine, the beverage is very very yellow. That's solely due to my grenadine being homemade and pretty pale in color. If you use commercial (and if you do, PLEASE go with a brand like Stirrings over Rose's), or if you make your own using pomegranate juice, your drink will end up more orange than yellow. My grenadine was made by boiling down pomegranate pips, and is therefore not quite as colorful.

William Seabrook's Asylum

Pour slowly, and in this order, into an Old-Fashioned glass:

1/2 teaspoon grenadine
1 1/2 ounces Pernod
1 1/2 ounces London dry gin (though a Jenever-style would be interesting, too)

Add 2 to 3 ice cubes, letting them melt a tiny bit, and then swizzle to watch the clouds form.

I'd be lying if I said this tastes like anything besides a spice drop, but that's not a bad thing at all...it's not cloyingly sweet, and as David Wondrich points out in "Esquire Drinks," "[b]etween the Pernod and the gin, you've got the extracts of a few dozen assorted roots and herbs, not a few of which must have some serious juju going for them...[it] seems to impart a trancelike, unblinking calm tat is difficult to otherwise achieve." I don't know about "trancelike" but after a pair of these, I was feeling pretty damn mellow. For an introduction to Pernod, this drink made it pretty painless. Next stop, absinthe, maybe?

Addendum: You've probably noticed that in a lot of my photos, I've got the drinks posing with books. That's not by accident. I'm a voracious reader, and I will happily and most emphatically recommend any of the books you see in the photos. I try to match them based on a sort of emotional connection I feel each drink could make with them, but sometimes I just feel like singling out a book, you know?