Famous Riffs

I think for the next couple of weeks, we’ll take a bit of a departure from our usual aesthetic and relive a couple our more whimsical holiday jocularities.  After that, I promise, we’ll get serious-for at least a while.

So our first stop on Santa’s barhopping express (I guess when you drive a flying reindeer powered sleigh, DUI’s aren’t such a concern–though don’t let Blitzen hit the sauce; he gets mean) is a festive tipple dreamed up by King Cocktail, Dale Degroff, for Crown Royal.   B first spotted it in his book The Essential Cocktail because it had Domaine de Canton, a ginger liqueur that she really likes.

A quick glance at both the ingredients and methodology reveals that this is a riff, albeit substantial, on the classic old fashioned cocktail.  It also is on the same page in his book.  I had actually meant to put a link to my post on the Old Fashioned when I realized, I hadn’t done one, so that might be a good place to get back to being serious.   So what is this riff?

Royal Gingersnap

Superfine sugar (aka bar sugar)
Ground cinnamon
2 Orange slices
1 Maraschino Cherry
1 tsp. orange Marmalade
1/4 oz. Domaine de Canton
2 oz. Crown Royal Canadian Whisky
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Flamed orange peel

Mix equal parts cinnamon and sugar (a couple of teaspoons each will do it unless you are serving this one up for a party).  Prepare rocks glasses by moistening the rim with one of the orange slices and rimming the glass with the cinnamon/sugar mix and let dry while you are mixing the rest of the drink.  In a mixing glass muddle the other orange slice, cherry, Domaine de Canton and marmalade.  Add the whiskey, bitters and ice.  Shake well and strain into the prepared rocks glass.  Garnish with the orange peel.

It’s probably not the most serious of drinks, but when you’re feeling that yuletide glow, it’s a festive and tasty way to inject a bit of merriment.  It’s also light enough that even the less serious drinking guest at your party can enjoy it.

Cheers.

Negroni

Last Friday, the lab decided it needed a “spontaneous act of happy hour” at Briana’s house.  She had the comestible well in hand, which left the libation in our hands.  Knowing gin was a popular favorite with all of the revelers, my mind wandered the the Negroni. Tasty, portable and gin based. No problem.

The backstory on the Negroni’s a little dubious, but still worth repeating.  According to Eric Felten’s How’s your Drink?,  A book by bartender and author Luca Picchi called Sulle Tracce de Conte give credit for the invention of the cocktail to Count Cammillo Negroni, who asked the bartender Fosco Scarselli at his regular drinking establishment Caffee Casoni in Florence to beef up the Americano with some gin.   I bring this all up because Esquire’s David Wondrinch is a little dubious of the story.  It seems a little questionable the remarkable amount of details about names and places that survive for a relatively obscure cocktail that was suppose to have been invented in 1920.  Well however it came into being, it’s still a tasty one (if a bit summery for January drinking).  Most recipes call for equal parts gin, Campari and Italian sweet vermouth.   I actually think the Esquire version is a little better:

Negroni

• 2 oz. London dry gin,
• 1 oz. Campari
• 1 oz. Italian vermouth

Stir in a cocktail shaker with ice and strain into a cocktail glass with a twist of orange. (Alternatively, serve in on the rock).

Anyway you serve it, it makes for a festive happy hour.

Cin-Cin

Festive and Fizzy

B informed me she wanted some thing festive and fizzy this afternoon.  After a bit of mouth-agape monkey-trying-to-solve-a-Rubik’s-cube thinking, she reminded me that she had found a recipe for a drink called a Kir Royale 38.  Loyal readers of the blog (and other mythical creatures) will recall that we have already done the Kir Royale.  B found this more obscure riff on that cocktail in a 1999 New York Times article written by William Grimes called “The Aperitif Moment: Sip or Flinch“.  According to Grimes, the Kir Royale 38 was developed to celebrate the 38th anniversary of the legendary (the Kennedy’s used to hang out there) and now defunct New York restaurant La Caravelle.

Kir Royale 38

• 1 teaspoon cognac
• 1 teaspoon Grand Marnier
• 6 to 8 ounces Champagne
• 1/2 orange slice

Pour the cognac and Grand Marnier into the bottom of a champagne flute. Fill glass with champagne and garnish with the orange slice.

As a side note, you really need Grand Marnier as Cointreau simply makes the drink too sweet.    Both B & I enjoyed this festive and fizzy drink that seems to be ideal for holiday drinking and entertaining.  I think we both still like the original Kir Royale a little better, but this version makes for an enjoyable alternative when you want to change it up a bit (or your don’t have crème de cassis).

Cheers.

Emerald

As college towns go, it’s been my contention that we have long suffered a dearth of suitable drinking establishments.  Well, a couple of weeks ago that situation markedly improved with our new Irish public house, Devere’s. And there’s a lot to like about Devere’s Pub—a back bar fresh from Ireland itself, an library complete with comfortable couches, great local food including bangers and puddings.  They even do a study hall, so I can go to a bar at 9 in the morning, have a cup of coffee and read (enter the library and couches).

All this got me felling like I wanted to have a cocktail with some Irish whiskey in it.   As David Wondrich, author of probably my all-time favorite (and now out of print) cocktail book, Esquire Drinks, points out that the ranks of Irish whiskey cocktails are a little thin, coming up with the Brainstorm and Emerald.   He then goes on a couple of hilarious screeds on various dreadful green Chartreuse and green creme de menthe defilings of Irish whiskey in the name of St. Patricks day drinks, as well as on the choice of bitters in the Emerald.

In looking into the Emerald, its history seems a bit obscure.  I wasn’t able to find it in the Savoy Cocktail Book or Jerry Thomas’s How to Mix Drinks.  I was able to find it in a 1954 edition of Ted Saucier’s Bottoms Up and in the 1935 version of the Old Waldorf Astoria Bar Book.  So the Emerald likely dates to Prohibition or slightly before.  There’s also seems to be another ill-conceived version of it that is made with gin and green curacao.

Emerald

• 2 oz. Irish whiskey (we used Tullamore Dew)
• 1 oz. Sweet vermouth
• 1 dash orange bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with a maraschino cherry.

This drink draws obvious comparisons with either the Manhattan, which uses rye and Angostura bitters instead (and yes, dear reader, if you make it with bourbon, you’re doing it wrong.  Very, very wrong) or a Rob Roy, which is made with Scotch whisky.  This difference in whiskeys really does make for three very different (and all thoroughly enjoyable) cocktails.  Irish whiskey, like Scotch, is made from predominantly barley (unlike rye, which is a mixture of rye, corn and wheat). Unlike Scotch, though, it can be made with a mixture of both malted and unmalted grain, and the malting is done over indirect heat, so the resulting mash doesn’t pick up that aggressive peat-smoke flavor.  The result is that Irish whiskey tends to be more subtle and mellower that either rye or Scotch, which decidedly comes through in the Emerald.

So if you find yourself yerning for the Auld Sod, we’d highly recommend quenching at least your thirst with an Emerald and if you’re near Davis, a visit to Devere’s pub would probably help as well.

Slainté and Happy Thanksgiving

The Widow’s Kiss

I have to confess that I found this one looking for something with Calvados in it.  In looking at it, it had pretty much everything I love. It’s old. It’s chock-full of screwball booze.  Also, it turns out to be really good as well.

David Wondrich gives credit to a German bartender named George J. Kappeler at the Holland House hotel on Fifth Ave. and Thirtieth St. in New York for it’s invention.  Apparently it as all the rage before the turn of the last century.

Almost all of the recipes I found for this cocktail call for Yellow Chartreuse, a lower proof, milder version of its older sibling (the yellow was introduced in 1838) Green Chartreuse.  Even the original Kappeler version calls for the yellow stuff.  Problem is that I like Green Chartreuse.    Robert Hess makes the cocktail in one of his Cocktail Spirit video blogs and mentions the if you are using the green variety to use half as much.  Finally Ti Adelaide Martin and Lally Brennan call for the full amount of Green Chartreuse in their In the Land of Cocktails book.  Well I like the way they think.

The Widow’s Kiss

• 2 oz Calvados
• 1 oz. Green Chartreuse
• 1 oz. Benedictine
• 2 dashes Angostura bitters

Stir in a cocktail mixer with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass or coupe.

A couple of notes:  I haven’t seen anyone recommend a garnish, but I was feeling like I wanted a drink toy to amuse myself with that afternoon, so I threw in a cherry.  Also, if you want the original version or if you find it a little harsh, use the Yellow Chartreuse.

B & I really like this one.  In fact as soon as I hit post, I think one might be on the agenda.

Cheers.

 

Agricole Daiquiri

This twist on the classic involves one of my favorite things… quirky booze.  This time it’s rhum agricole.   All rum is originally fermented from sugar (it’s what makes it rum instead of  say brandy, which uses fruit, or whiskey that uses grain).  Most rums use molasses.  What makes rhum agricole unique is that is uses fresh cane juice rather than the molasses.  The result of this is that it has a greener herbal taste reminiscent of some tequilas.  Our friends Bob and Nancy had given me a bottle of this for my birthday several years ago (this isn’t the first time we made this one–I just got around to getting B to take a picture).   When I went to look for a recipe that uses this I ran across this one in Imbibe No. 17: (Jan/Feb 2009).  They interviewed the always lovely Rachel Maddow. She talks about the Heminway Daiquiri, which we have done before and then mentions this variation of the daiquiri:

Agricole Daiquiri

• 1 1/2 oz. rhum agricole blanc
• 3/4 oz. lime juice
• 1/2 oz. simple syrup
• 1/2 to 1 oz. Green Chartreuse (as a float)

Shake the first three ingredients with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.  Pour the Green Chartreuse over the back of a spoon to float on top of the drink.

The rhum agricole by itself in this drink really doesn’t work very well.  The green taste is almost off-putting. My guess is that’s why you put triple sec in a margarita with the tequila.  When you float the Green Chartreuse on it, though, magic happens.  The herbal quality of both some how harmonize and the drink comes alive.  Very cool.

Cheers

Limoncello Fizzy Sangria

Admittedly “Limoncello Fizzy Sangria” is a bit of a deviation (some might even go as far as deviant) from the usual vintage cocktail vibe of this blog.  I can only offer two items in my defense… summer and patio.   For me, if you combine those two, you wind up at sangria.  I may actually do a blog post some time on my usual (red wine) sangria recipe.  Today’s post, though, is a tasty twist on the idea.  I came across it looking for something to bring to a going a way party for our friends Meghan and Ben.

This recipe comes from a book that I got as a gift from our friend Elsie called  101 Sangrias and Pitcher Drinks by Kim Haasarud and Alexandra Grablewski.

Limoncello Fizzy Sangria

• 1 bottle dry white wine
• 2 cups lemonade
• 1/2 cup limoncello
• 2 lemons, cut into wheels
• 2 oranges, cut into wheels
• 1 bottle of semisweet sparkling wine (prosecco or spumante)
• lemon twist and mint sprigs for garnish

Combine everything but the prosecco (and the mint/lemon twists) and give it a stir.  Refrigerate for a few hours or overnight.  Add ice to glasses and fill half way with the wine/limoncello mixture.  Top up with the prosecco and garnish.

Something (probably insect-like in nature) ate my mint, so we went with the lemon twist as the solo garnish.  B & I both think this one is a nice addition to our patio entertaining repertoire. It’s both festive and refreshing.  It’s also easy to make for a group.

One last thing, for anyone interested in a great blog about science, I highly recommend checking out our friend Meghan’s blog Aliquots.

Have a great summer.

Vieux Carré

I just realized that it’s been exactly six months since my last post.  Wow.  I knew I had been putting this off a bit, but this is even more serious procrastination that I’m normally capable of.  I definitely planned on doing thiso one for Fat Tuesday, but as you can see that plan didn’t work out.

Enough excuses. I first ran across the Vieux Carré in a tweet from Imbibe Magazine, which said that it was a 1930′s New Orleans recipe named after the French Quarter (literally, I think, Old Square).  A little more research in the form of a Google search, and I ran across Chuck Taggart’s GumboPages blog, which ascribes the  invention of the drink  in1938 to Walter Bergeron, the head bartender at the Monteleone Hotel in New Orleans.  All facts that, with the exception of the exact date of 1938, the hotel’s blog confirms (I’ll trust him on that detail).  There are a lot of recipes around for this drink, all of which are built on the basic formula of equal parts rye, congnac and sweet vermouth and a little bit of Benedictine plus both Peychaud’s  & Angostura bitters.   I actually went with the one from Ti Adelaide Martin and Lally Brennan’s In the Land of Cocktails book (they credit Stanley Clisby Arthur’s book Famous New Orleans Drinks and How to Mix ‘Em), though with the Hotel Monteleone’s serving suggestion:

Vieux Carré Cocktail

• 1 oz. Rye whiskey
• 1 oz. Cognac
• 1 oz. Sweet Vermouth
• 1/2 tsp. Benedictine
• 2 dashes  Peychaud’s bitters
• 2 dashes Angostura bitters

Stir all of the ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice and strain into an old-fashioned glass half-full of ice.  Garnish with a twist of lemon.

The Hotel Monteleone’s recipe calls for 1/2 oz of Benedictine and 3/4 oz of everything else, which I think leaves it just a bit sweet.  Upping the Benedictine to a full teaspoon, though, is certainly a fine idea (and what Chuck Taggart recommends).  Both B & I really liked this classic cocktail. I think it could wind up on our list of favorites.

Cheers.

Mexican Sweet Limes

Thought I would go with a quick post here. B and I bought a couple of “Mexican Sweet Limes” at the Sacramento Farmers’ Market on Sunday.  They look like a round lemon.  We decided to give them a whirl tonight with a Daiquiri.

I even decided to break out a decent rum (Appelton Estates).  I went with the basic daiquiri recipe:

• 2 oz rum
• 1 tsp superfine bar sugar
• juice of half a lime (in this case the Mexican sweet limes)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

Anyway, the upshot was rather disappointing.  We actually tasted the sweet lime juice straight.  It is neither tart nor particularly “citrusy” .  Kind of an unfortunate use of good rum.  We added the juice of half of a regular lime to each glass and this seemed to make them drinkable.

We’re still not sure what you would use a sweet lime for, but it’s not for daiquiris.  Probably a good general rule is that a great cocktail like a daiquiri doesn’t need tinkering with.

Bijou

One of the problems with the history of cocktails, is that the people most qualified to write it would rather be drinking.  Those that are writing, tend to be prone to indulging in a bit of self aggrandizement.   Case in point, one Harry Johnson.  According to cocktail historian David Wondrich in his book Imbibe, Johnson’s many unsubstantiated claims include publishing the first cocktail book in 1860 (none of which exist today in spite of his claim of selling 10,000 copies) and being the first to bring cocktails to New York.  Interestingly, however, the 1900 edition of his book does included the first recipe fora cocktail called the Bijou.

The 1895 edition of C.F. Lawlor’s The Mixologist contains a recipe for a cocktail of the same name but substituting Grand Marnier for green Chartreuse (to much less effect according to Wondrich).  Interestingly,  Harry Craddock’s Savoy Cocktail Book (ca. 1930) has an essentially identical cocktail called the Jewel (I guess the English didn’t like the French name).

Bijou

• 1 oz gin
• 1 oz green Chartreuse
• 1 oz sweet vermouth
• 1 dash orange bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with a twist of orange and a cherry.

This really is an interesting little tipple.  The herbal complexity of all three liquors, especially the green Chartreuse, really seem to harmonize well.

Pip-pip