MxMo CVII: Bahia Cocktail

A full year after my first participation in Mixology Monday, I finally managed to catch another round with a few days to go before the deadline! The fact that this took a year should tell you everything you need to know about my knack for timing.

Fortunately, this one is a doozy. Dagreb of the Nihil Utopia blog explains his choice for this month's theme as follows:

My theme this time is overproof. Or rather how you utilize overproofs.  Do you sub them into your standards? Save them for accents in particular recipes? Pour them into ceramic volcanoes and set them on fire? Reserve them only for making liqueres? Whatever it be I'm looking for your recipes that use overproofs as base or as modifier in a noticeable-

      -WAIT-

"What's an overproof," you ask? "Well, uh, yeah..."

First let's decide what is proof. It's my party so I say 50% abv is proof. Above that is overproof. You disagree? Host your own party! (No really host a MxMo it'll be fun.) So BIB liquors are exempt this month but lots of bottles are fair game! Whether it boldly proclaims its strength on the label or nonchalantly lets you discover its strength for yourself use that bottle that packs a punch in a drink this month. 

Astute readers may recall a rather ludicrous number of navy-strength gins rattling around my growing, eclectic collection of gin samplings. So while I could have selected a high-test rum or whiskey, gin is nearest and dearest to my heart, and was the only logical choice when organizing my thoughts on "overproof".

Frequent MxMo participants (MxMites? MxMolians?) will most likely know this already, but whence the term "navy strength"? Well: like rum before it, gin was popularized by the sailors who drank it. In the days before refrigeration, pasteurization, or filtration, spirits were some of the few beverages that would remain potable on long ocean crossings. Combined with citrus to make grog, they also helped to combat scurvy. Naval ships had one additional requirement: in the event of a burst barrel or clumsy sailor, the spirits had to contain enough alcohol that soaked gunpowder would still ignite. That takes at least 114 proof (57% ABV) which then became the benchmark for spirits suited for naval use. (The picture shown here is obviously more recent, but demonstrates how this tradition carried on even into the Second World War.) Such navy strength gins fell out of favor for a while, but they've come roaring back in recent years; nowadays it seems that just about every gin producer makes an overproof product, though they're often harder to find than the standard editions.

My usual inclination with these is probably a dangerous one, though I'm sure sailors would approve: I just sub them in for a typical London Dry in whatever I'm making. Some people like to increase the amount of gin in their Negroni, but I'll stick to the equal-parts ratio and just use a stronger gin. If it's been a long day, I've been known to make a Martinez or other gin-base cocktail with navy-strength product. This is usually an experience that's equal parts rough, bracing, and deeply satisfying.

Which leads us into my submission. While considering recipes for overproof substitution, I hit on the Bijou Cocktail, which is perfect because it also utilizes green Chartreuse, another overproof product by Dagreb's standards at 110 proof (55% ABV) and one of my perennial favorites.

Now, a traditional equal-parts Bijou is a reasonably burly cocktail to start with, so replacing the gin with a navy-strength version is gilding the lily a bit. But hey, I finally caught a MxMo; we'll call that a special occasion, worthy of a strong drink. It's probably a good thing that no appropriate overproof substitution for the sweet vermouth comes immediately to mind, or this post would never make its way out of draft status in a readable form.

For the gin, I defaulted to a product I've been obsessed with lately: Far North Spirits' Gustaf Navy Strength Gin. It's produced from rye, which gives a faintly sweet-spicy character, and it's then infused with botanicals that edge into vegetal territory reminiscent of Scandinavian aquavit. The focus is less on sharp juniper, more on a very rounded profile that blends spice, herb, and sweet citrus. Pairing it with Chartreuse seemed like an obvious slam dunk. I really wanted to try this with Punt e Mes, thinking that some additional bitterness would balance the sweeter notes of the gin, but it was out of stock at the couple liquor stores I visited. I tried a couple of vermouth alternates (including Dolin Blanc, which was tasty but a little too light, and Cynar which was too herbal and rooty) but settled back on good old Cocchi Torino, which was the closest match in my mind to the absent Punt e Mes. (I'd still really like to attempt that version, but we've got a deadline to hit.)

The normal construction for a Bijou is an ounce of each ingredient, which is already pretty sweet and assertive; using the Gustaf, it simply became overwhelming. The recipe I linked above also provides a more "modern" version with three parts gin to one part Chartreuse and vermouth. With that ratio the Gustaf just took over. I landed on a middle ground of 2:1:1, which curiously enough is how I usually recall the Bijou recipe. Perhaps there's a reason for that, because it worked brilliantly here. I started with orange bitters as called for in the original recipe, but the drink really hit its stride when I subbed a large dose of a homemade cinnamon-orange bitters instead.

Here, the result:

1 1/2 oz Gustaf Navy Strength gin
3/4 oz green Chartreuse
3/4 oz Cocchi Torino (or Punt e Mes...)
1 eyedropper homemade cinnamon-orange bitters (call it 4 dashes of orange bitters, supplemented by 2 dashes of a spice-laden aromatic bitters like Fee Brothers)

Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass; garnish with a lemon twist, or if you feel like showing off, score a lime peel into a jewel-like shape and drop into the drink.

Since the original French name "bijou" translates to "jewel" I decided to name this one after the much-disputed world's largest emerald, known as the Bahia Emerald. Its contested history seems a good fit for a drink that took a couple iterations to get right, and which still stuns with its weight.

I had a lot of fun putting this together, so I'd like to thank Dagreb for coming up with this month's theme, the geniuses behind MxMo for keeping this event alive and well, and my wife for tolerating my cocktail mixing even with a new baby boy at home. Cheers!

Here's the accompanying roundup post from Dagreb, which features quite a few tasty-looking drinks. I can't wait to try some of these, and their photography game puts my own to shame. Nicely done, everybody!

Spirits: Even More Weird Gins

That's right, kids: even more weird-ass gins for your perusal. I'm trying to build a very off-kilter catalog here.

Esmé

About: From what I can tell, this might be an exclusive import from Total Wine & Spirits, who consistently surprise me by carrying some otherwise hard to find stuff. Information on how it's produced is a bit difficult to come by, but its listing at the retailer notes that it's a modern gin, flavored with cucumber and rose petals, which puts it into direct competition with the long-dominant Hendrick's. I was a little skeptical, but pleasantly surprised to find that it's less aggressively floral than expected. And it retails for maybe 60% of Hendrick's typical price. It's certainly not small-batch in any sense, but I don't let that bother me when I'm buying Tanqueray, so why should it here?

Tasting Notes: Esmé doesn't stray too far from the London Dry formula, and the nose is nothing too distinctive, except for some floral-perfume notes that blow off quickly. The palate is quite soft, with a creamy marshmallow character reminiscent of a decent vodka. The botanicals start creeping in after the sweetness eases, but they don't include much juniper flavor, more an indistinct mix of dried herbs and a bit of citrus peel. Pretty quickly, the bitter-grassy flavor of cucumber takes over, supplemented by a little pepper and capped off by a distinctive wash of rose petal. That combination isn't exactly my favorite, but it's not overwhelming here and there's not much competition from the other botanicals. Fans of Hendrick's or newcomers to gin will probably find this suitable, and I like it with a simple mixer, but it's no substitute for a London Dry.

G'Vine Nouaison

About: This one's a bit of a blast from the past for me; I originally tried this gin back in the very first days of this blog, way before I had a clue what was going on. Unfortunately, I didn't record any tasting notes, so it's impossible to know how much either my taste buds or the gin itself have changed. Regardless: this is another French product, distilled in copper pot stills from the same Ugni Blanc grapes commonly used to produce cognac. That distillate is then macerated with different botanical blends, which notably include the delicate grape flower, to produce both Nouaison and its cousin Floraison. The latter is a fresher, lighter style where the floral character is very prominent; Nouaison skews a little closer to London Dry territory, but still has a lot of distinct grape character.

Tasting Notes: The aroma on this one is distinctively, richly floral, stuffed with violets and fresh grapes; it puts me in mind of young French table wine, a Beaujolais maybe. The floral quality in particular carries on into the palate, which is... complicated. Initially, it's all violets and blueberries, powerfully floral and sweet, until the classic London Dry botanicals take hold. There's (oddly fresh?) juniper, coriander, cinnamon, and peppercorn, balanced and spicy through the finish, the texture dominated by rich essential oils. It's all layered with the rich, warm sweetness of vanilla and more of that fruity, young table-wine character, which lingers on into a perfumed and slightly hot finish. I dig it! It's most definitely unusual, and despite its billing not really anywhere close to a classic London Dry, but the vinous qualities pair nicely with vermouth and other aromatized wines, making it an interesting candidate for your next Negroni or Martinez.

Letherbee Autumnal 2015

About: We've talked about Letherbee's flagship gin before, with a passing reference to the 2014 Vernal edition. Since then, a full year has gone by; the 2014 Autumnal wasn't terribly impressive, and the 2015 Vernal was flavored in a tropical-ish style with papaya and coconut (hard pass, thank you) but these unique variants sometimes hit a real home run. Witness the 2015 Autumnal edition, which is aged in a used Buffalo Trace bourbon barrel and flavored with Vermont maple syrup. I'd feel bad about including this here if it wasn't so damn good; when I started drafting this post I had just bought a third bottle, but now I can't seem to find it anywhere. Perhaps that's not surprising given the limited nature of these releases, but it does make this review somewhat teasing. Let's just say that if you do uncover a bottle of this, you should buy it.

Tasting Notes: Perhaps it's unsurprising that this drinks pretty much exactly as it's described on the label. The nose is relatively restrained, straddling an odd line between the botanical presence of gin and the woody qualities of whiskey. The maple is foremost on the palate, initially sweet but turning to intense wood tannins and a sort of cherry-like warmth. At the same time, the vegetal qualities of Letherbee's flagship gin come in like an aquavit, with strong notes of fennel, cinnamon, and coriander. It's a bit like Linie, a bit like aged genever, not really much like a gin at all; perhaps it's not surprising that I like it given my usual penchant for weird spirits. Regardless, it's such an interesting and complex spirit with such rich botanicals that it does well in simple cocktails, like an old-fashioned made with a little bit of the syrup from a good jar of brandied cherries.

This is getting to be a pretty robust selection of damn weird gins! I don't know when exactly I'll get a chance to expand further, but it'll be detailed here if and when I do.

Tasting #3: Holiday Party Redux

Just about two years to the day after my first tasting menu presentation, I was invited back (in a fit of poor judgment, no doubt) to handle drinks for another holiday party!  This was a great experience for me, in that it allowed me to think back on what worked well vs. not so well at the previous event, while reworking the format for a slightly bigger crowd.

Five drinks wound up being a little impractical the last time around, so we shortened to three rounds (I cheated by doing two variations on the same formula for round 2, as you'll see below).  To start things off, we added a relatively gentle communal punch, which gave everyone a chance to settle in and grab something to eat while getting into the spirit of the event.  The other major difference this year, although it doesn't show in the menu below, is that I recruited volunteers from the crowd to help out with measuring, stirring, and shaking.  I've done this with friends at home, and it's a great way to keep everyone engaged while also demonstrating one of the points I try to get across the most fervently: that with a little instruction, anybody can put together a good drink.

(There were a lot of pictures taken as well - I'll try to hunt down some copies and post them up here.)

PRIMER: ROSY CHEEKS PUNCH
1 oz (8 oz) gin (Tanqueray)
½ oz (4 oz) overproof white rum (Wray & Nephew)
½ oz (4 oz) cinnamon syrup*
½ oz (4 oz) Campari (or similar)
½ oz (4 oz) lime juice
3 oz (1 standard 750ml bottle) sparkling wine
4 oz (1 standard 1 liter bottle) soda water
To build: Combine in a large glass, or punch bowl over a large block of ice. Garnish with cranberries, orange slices, rosemary sprigs – whatever you want! (All of the above at the event, which was maybe a bit much, but which got compliments on its appearance!)
Other notes: You can make this as an individual drink, or as a communal punch for 6-8 people (using the amounts in parenthesis).

DRINK #1: OLD-FASHIONED, RUMMY STYLE
2½ oz aged rum (Plantation 5 Year)
¼ oz cinnamon syrup*
¼ oz falernum (John D. Taylor)
3 dashes Angostura bitters
To build: Stir over ice and strain into a chilled glass, or just stir over a large ice cube; garnish with a small strip of lemon peel squeezed over the glass.
Other notes: Don’t skimp on the rum here; you want a smooth operator for this one.

DRINK #2 (A/B): SILVER & GOLD HOLIDAY FIZZES
Silver:
1½ oz gin (Tanqueray)
1 oz falernum (John D. Taylor)
1 oz lemon juice
½ egg white
Gold:
1½ oz gin (Tanqueray)
1 oz apricot liqueur (Rothman & Winter)
1 oz lemon juice
½ egg yolk
To build: Shake once without ice and once with ice, then strain into a highball glass and top with 3-4 oz of soda water to taste.
Other notes: Two different variants on the same basic formula; you can omit the egg for a plain fizz if you’re squeamish, but this way nothing goes to waste.

DRINK #3: FRANKENSTEIN’S ZOMBIE
1½ oz aged rum (Plantation 5 Year)
1 oz overproof white rum (Wray & Nephew)
½ oz apricot liqueur (Rothman & Winter)
½ oz falernum (John D. Taylor)
¼ oz cinnamon syrup*
1 oz pineapple juice
1 oz lime juice
2 dashes Angostura bitters
To build: Shake vigorously and pour unstrained into a highball glass; garnish with flaming rum in a lime shell only if it’s your first drink of the night. (I was asked why I made this point at the event, and it bears repeating: alcohol is flammable, and you don't want to set your bar/home/self on fire.)
Other notes: This is a cobbled-together version of several different Zombies that can be found in the wild; the original goes back to 1934.

*For Cinnamon Syrup: Combine 1 cup each of white sugar and water in a saucepan and add 4 whole cinnamon sticks. Heat and stir until the sugar dissolves, and let stand for at least 1 hour or overnight. Strain, bottle, and keep in an airtight refrigerated container.

I'm sure they'll never read it here, but I'd like to extend my thanks once again to our hosts, both for the aforementioned hosting duties and for inviting me back.  Events like this are always a blast, and it was fun to get participants a little more hands-on this time around!

Sour Grapes

It's been a while since I've written up an actual drink! Feels a little... nostalgic. Lately I've been making relatively simple cocktails, and it's not too often that one jumps out and grabs my attention. This is a very welcome exception, so much so that I had to get it down.

1 1/2 oz G'Vine Nouaison gin (we'll do a writeup on this soon too)
3/4 oz red wine
3/4 oz tamarind syrup (I'd have loved to use a sour grape syrup, but this is close enough)
3/4 oz lime juice

Shake and strain into a cocktail glass.

Yum. A really nice, simple take on a gin sour that also tastes shockingly of grape.

Spirits: Local Gins

"More gins?" I can hear you asking already. You're damn right, more gins. I won't be stopped.

These particular gins are all unique in that they hail from distilleries located near my hometown of St. Paul, Minnesota. There's been a boom in local distilling lately, and it's a curious fact that the first products turned out by most of them are various takes on gin. The reason's simple: gin doesn't have to be aged to develop flavor the way that whiskey does, so you can ship product out the door and start recouping your investment immediately, rather than having to sit on barrels for a year or more. Gin's just a smart start-up booze.

The thing about gin is that you have to find a way to distinguish yourself in order to sell it. Clever marketing will only get you so far; with so many other distilleries pumping out product, producers have to make the booze itself unique in order to attract attention. These, friends, are some dang unique gins. They sure caught my eye, and I am only too happy to share.

Bent Brewstillery Gunner Ghost

About: Starting off strong is a gin distinguished by its proof. The dramatically rendered ship on the label ought to be a dead giveaway that this is navy-strength product, the stuff that sailors used to slop all over their gunpowder. (Not intentionally, it just happens after having a few, or when enemy fire fucks up a barrel.) Bent Brewstillery is also my most local of the distillers featured here; heck, our bank is located right across the street from their taproom. They produce a number of unique beers, and the brewery does double time producing mashes for their stills. Hardworking fellows over there.

Tasting: No surprise that this is pretty potent stuff from the nose on up. The botanical mix features some surprises, but the first whiff is full of classic juniper, dark herbs, and an intriguing maltiness. Lighter, grassier elements (hello apricot, lemongrass... and hops?) take over on the palate at first, but the alcohol makes itself known pretty quickly. The swallow is full of malt and spice and a rounded sweetness, plus a sort of cola flavor that's weird to encounter in gin. It's different from other navy-strength bottlings in the same way that American gins are different from London Dry versions: a bit sweeter, a bit more robust, less focused on juniper. I like it, particularly in shaken drinks.

Norseman Strawberry Rhubarb Gin

About: Norseman is a micro-scale distillery run out of the hipster-heavy northeast Minneapolis neighborhood, with a strong focus on local sourcing. Even though it appears to be run by two guys and their dogs, they've really ramped up production and their products can be found at many local liquor stores (including bigger chains that will let you order product online). Those products span a few different spirits and they're starting to release aged whiskies and rum, but this is a seasonal release of their gin, one version of a few. I'm guessing that the strawberry and rhubarb are distilled in with the botanicals; I keep meaning to email the distillery for clarification on that, but haven't gotten around to it. Heck, at this point they might not even remember, this being a rather limited-edition summer edition that you might now be hard-pressed to find.

Tasting: This is a rather sweet gin, and it starts from the nose, which is filled with candied strawberry. On the palate, it's pretty one-note, but it's a complex note: think good strawberry-rhubarb pie, filled with both of those plus lemon peel and vanilla. After the swallow, a bit of white pepper hangs around, but there's really not much juniper presence here; good for the novice gin drinker. On the other hand, it's nowhere close to the artificial sweetness that you might expect from the name, and it makes for a fantastic gin & tonic on a hot day.

J. Carver Barrel Gin

About: The J. Carver distillery is a bit further afield, located in the outlying city/exurb of Waconia, not quite in what I'd consider the Twin Cities metro area but close enough that I'm considering an afternoon trip to their tasting room. They make a few "premium" gins and vodkas, but this is the odd duck of the bunch, a gin distilled with local botanicals, grains, and wild rice (definitively Minnesotan, if a bit unusual) then briefly aged in also-local newly charred bourbon barrels. Making a barrel-aged gin is a bit of a gutsy move, but it paid off. I actually first learned about this spirit from Robb Jones of Spoon and Stable, a man I trust in all matters spiritous, who liked it so much that he bought an entire barrel of the stuff for his bar. Smart move.

Tasting: It shouldn't be surprising that this is an atypical gin, with a nose more redolent of star anise and orange peel than juniper. I get a little whiff of the juniper right at first tasting, but that rapidly gets layered with licorice, vanilla, dark spices, and a building bourbon-barrel char character. The finish is a bit tannic and drying, with more of that oaky finish, a wash of black pepper, and a sort of sweet dried-herb background. It's complex, nicely aged, and a little bit rough but still sippable. With the oak presence and sweetness, this makes one hell of a Martinez.


So there you go, more weird gins! I love the motley collection that I've assembled, and you can be certain that I'll keep on adding to it in future.

Salers Substitutions

A few weeks ago, rummaging around my favorite liquor store for finding unusual products, I came across a bottle of Salers Gentiane, which I'd heard mentioned on cocktail blogs but had never found in person. Did I buy it? How is that even a question?

In all fairness, I brought it home not having much idea what I was getting into. I knew it was similar to other bitter aperitif liqueurs, namely Suze and Aveze, which I'd tried before in drinks like the White Negroni and in a drink or two at the esteemed Pouring Ribbons. What I didn't understand was how distinct these gentian liqueurs were from other aperitifs that I've known and loved.

Salers, as it turns out, is a different beast because of what's used to make it bitter: gentian root. A post on Fred Yarm's excellent blog, recapping a talk at this year's Tales of the Cocktail, first helped me get a handle on this difference. Gentian is a distinct bittering agent from either wormwood (used principally in vermouth, and more famously in absinthe) or cinchona bark (the bittering agent in tonic water and in other favorites like Cocchi Americano*). Like vermouths and other aperitifs, gentian liqueurs are fortified wines, starting life as relatively-bland white wine that's then boosted with sugar and spirits to add flavor and shelf life.

*This is actually a little weird, because Fred's post points out that gentian is generally used in "americanos" but Cocchi is indeed flavored with cinchona. Because this sort of linguistic confusion is everywhere in the world of food and spirits.

What makes gentian different is the quality of its bitteress, which sits between wormwood and cinchona on a continuum. Wormwood is intensely herbal and sharply bitter; cinchona is flat, sweeter, and woodier; gentian falls in the complex territory between. It's like taking a deep whiff of wild brushes. Trying my newly acquired Salers on its own, the flavor was intensely vegetal, bitter like a green pepper, brighter and more herbal than the citrus notes I'm used to in Cocchi Americano or Campari. Still, I reasoned, the formulation, alcohol level, and sweet/bitter balance are all roughly comparable to other liqueurs in the category. Why not give it a spin in recipes that call for other bitter liqueurs?

Pink Negroni

A Negroni riff seemed an obvious first move, the White Negroni already having been established as a good use of gentian liqueur. However, I'd purchased my Salers in lieu of other white fortified wines, so I decided to use up the last of my Aperol instead. Glad I did, too, because what a pretty color!

1 1/4 oz gin (using the last of my Bombay Sapphire East)
1 oz Aperol
1 oz Salers

Stir and strain over a large ice cube in a rocks glass; garnish with a broad strip of grapefruit peel.

This went down way too easily. It didn't have quite the richness of a traditional Negroni made with sweet vermouth, but the sweetness was on-point and the orange-rhubarb notes from the Aperol balanced the vegetal-lemon flavor of the Salers beautifully. I would happily add this into a regular rotation if I had such a thing.

Poison Ivy

Given the multiple comparisons I've already made to Cocchi Americano, not doing a Vesper riff would have been stupid. I tried plugging Salers into my standard Vesper recipe, but the final version took a little tweaking to get right.

1 1/2 oz gin (Beefeater this time)
1/2 oz vodka (Lususkowa, a vodka I hope to cover in a near-future post)
1/3 oz Salers
2 dashes Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters

Stir very, very well and strain into a chilled cocktail glass; garnish with a lemon twist expressed over the top of the glass. Next time I might try discarding the peel and adding a basil leaf, just to nail home the look.

I normally use about 1/2 oz of Cocchi (about twice what Ian Fleming's original recipe calls for) because I like the flavor, but Salers was a bit overwhelming at that level. Backing off and supplementing with orange bitters lent a better balance of citrus and greenery.

In conclusion: like so much I've talked about here, Salers is funky stuff. But if you've got a hankering for something unusual to try in spirits-focused cocktails, it might just be worth seeking out.

A Few Random... Martines?

I'm not quite sure what to call these. They're sort-of Martini variants, in that they consist of a gin stirred together with an aromatized wine, but in each case it's a sweeter aromatic than dry vermouth. Yet they're missing the additional sweetening that would make them a Martinez, leaving them in a weird grey area.

Oh, and... yeah, I made all three of these at once. And I poured all three at once. And then I drank all three in quick succession. It's fucking amazing that I managed to collect these recipes.

#1 (middle above)
1 1/2 oz Bombay Sapphire East gin
3/4 oz Cocchi Americano
2 dashes Bitter Truth Tonic Bitters
2 dashes Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters

Stir and strain into a cocktail glass; garnish with a thin lime wheel.

Drink first as preparation.

#2 (left above)
1 1/2 oz Norseman Strawberry Rhubarb gin
3/4 oz Byrrh
2 dashes Bitter Truth Tonic Bitters
2 dashes Bitter Truth Jerry Thomas' Own Decanter Bitters

Stir and strain into a slightly fancier cocktail glass; garnish with a strip of lemon peel.

Drink second to steady yourself.

#3 (right above)
1 1/2 oz J. Carver Barrel gin
3/4 oz Bonal
2 dashes Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters
2 dashes Bitter Truth Jerry Thomas' Own Decanter Bitters

Stir and strain into your fanciest cocktail glass; garnish with a brandied cherry.

Drink third to forget.

A Few Random Old-Fashioneds

I find it hard to resist an old-fashioned. Here I'm talking about the simplest classic cocktail. Booze, syrup, bitters; full stop. For a "fancy" version, add a dash or two of something flavorful.

Simplicity is a virtue here. Made well, a classic bourbon- or rye-based old-fashioned is a perfect and uncluttered masterpiece. You've got a delicate sweetness, an accenting punch of spice, a rich mouthfeel, all taming the base spirit but never letting you forget it's there.

Flexibility is another core aspect of the old-fashioned. A traditional version is made with whiskey, but it doesn't have to be. Any spirit that you wouldn't mind drinking straight will do. Likewise syrup; there's no need to stick to plain old simple when you've got variously flavored varieties. And there are a million different craft bitters out there today. Grab some of each, and combine them over a large ice cube. Boom: old-fashioned.

Here are a couple good combinations I've stumbled into recently.

Japan
2 1/4 oz Nikka Taketsuru Pure Malt whiskey
1/4 oz lemon syrup
4 dashes Bitter Truth Jerry Thomas' Own Decanter bitters

Mexico
2 1/4 oz Mezcal Sacrificio Reposado
1/4 oz honey-ginger syrup
2 dashes Bitter Truth Xocolatl Mole bitters
2 dashes Regan's No. 6 Orange bitters

Mpls
2 1/4 oz Norseman Strawberry Rhubarb Gin
1/4 oz cinnamon spice syrup
2 dashes Bitter Truth Tonic bitters
2 dashes Angostura bitters

For all of the above, stir briefly and strain over a large ice cube. Don't even think about garnishing.

What? No mention of hiatus? Shhhh what hiatus, what silliness is this?

Wise Man

Hey look, another lapse! It's another season where I just haven't been mixing much original stuff - largely gin & tonics and daiquiris, for some reason. Just to keep the suspense from building too much, here's a backlog item for you.

I started screwing around with this concept a little while ago after purchasing a bottle of Bombay Sapphire East, which was an unusual purchase for me. I'm not a fan (at all) of standard Bombay Sapphire, but a bar-master friend had me try a competition drink of his once using this as the base, and I got hooked. This version adds lemongrass and black pepper to the normal Sapphire botanicals, which I think adds some depth and spice to what is otherwise a fairly bland gin. I got to thinking one morning (don't judge me) how the "eastern" concept might get along nicely with tea, so I assembled this the moment I got home from work. It's still a work in process (I don't think the balance is quite there) but let's record it anyway.

1 oz Bombay Sapphire East
1 oz cognac (any decent VS or better brandy ought to do)
1 oz Bonal (honestly, I might try straight-up sweet vermouth next time)
1 oz chilled oolong tea (can't remember exactly what kind)
1/4 oz Licor 43 (to balance the astringency of the tea)

Stir and strain into a chilled coupe glass. A lemon twist garnish is a good idea here, but don't tell anybody I said so.

The mix here was based on the Ampersand, which I think is something of an unfairly obscure lost cocktail. Again, I don't think this exact recipe quite nailed the balance, but I find the concept intriguing, and the drink's light body quite fit for summer. Some further renditions might pop up here soon.

Hanging Garden

I love mint in cocktails, but it's an annoyingly short-lived ingredient. A properly stored syrup will keep for months; you can keep citrus in a bowl for at least a week; mint, once it's picked, will only make it a couple days before it starts to wilt. It's sad - but even sadder, that's one of the exact reasons that we're planning on hanging planters on our front porch. Fresh mint on demand!

1 oz vodka (Moskovskaya)

3/4 oz Fidelitas Obstler

3/4 oz gin syrup

3/4 oz lime juice

12 mint leaves

Shake the liquid ingredients first, then add the mint leaves and shake briefly and brutally; you want to break up the mint a bit without bruising it too much. Strain (but don't double-strain; you want those lovely green specks) into a cocktail glass and gaze at the frothy goodness that requires no additional garnish or fine, float a fucking mint leaf on top, then, if you've got extra.

Coriander Gimlet

A very straightforward drink here, but a good one! Among the first cocktails I was introduced to when I turned of age was the gimlet, and I grew to dislike it pretty quickly. I blame Rose's lime "juice" (nope) for turning me away, though shitty rail vodka probably contributed too. But that's unfair to the poor gimlet, which is a classic in its own right, and which can be much improved with a little care.

A homemade replacement for Rose's crud is really the core here, but I'm intentionally leaving off the recipe for now. I've got a roundup planned for some of the syrups and mixers that we saw pop up over Mocktail Month, and this will be included there, since I actually created it in April but never used it in a mocktail worth recording.

2 oz gin (whatever you like; I believe I was finishing off a bottle of New Amsterdam)
1 oz lime-coriander syrup
1/2 oz lime juice

Shake and strain over fresh ice in a rocks glass. Garnish? No, you fool. Drink it and garnish with a refill.

Mocktail Month: Provisionally Accepted

Another recent notion of mine is trying to replicate serious cocktails in a non-alcoholic format. I recognize this as a losing battle in a lot of cases; without the burn of proper whiskey, there's no way you're going to successfully produce a booze-free Manhattan, for example. Just about anything with citrus is almost too easy. Perhaps there's a middle way; something more challenging, a way to mimic a stirred drink, but one within the realm of possibility.

A Negroni isn't necessarily the most logical of options, and to be honest this isn't quite there. Another edition found online is probably strictly a closer match, but this one doesn't mess around with non-alcoholic wine (because fuck that nonsense, although they did have the bright idea to toast the spices, which I'll have to try next time around) nor does it require that you purchase Sanbitter. Instead, um, you only have to make a few different things at home.

Fine. It's not any more convenient and it's not particularly close. One thing it does manage is a lot of flavor in a compact format, with the balance of bitterness, spice, and sweetness to be found in a good Negroni. It's a step in the right direction. Too bad Mocktail Month is just about over and we can get back to the real deal before long.

2 1/2 oz over-steeped tea (a mix of green and black here; essentially, just simmer 6 oz of water per teabag in a saucepan until it reduces by about half, then squeeze out all the resulting liquid and allow to cool)
1/3 oz "red vermouth" syrup (recipe to come)
1/3 oz gin syrup (like the G&T syrup I've shared before, but with the tonic part stripped out)
2 dashes Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters
2 dashes Fee Brothers Gin Barrel Aged Orange Bitters
2 dashes Bitter Truth Tonic Bitters

Stir and strain over fresh ice; garnish with a wide strip of grapefruit peel to make it feel a little more like the real thing.

It's really much closer to the Teagroni from Craft Cocktails at Home, but whatever, it's still tasty. Further renditions of this one to come, I think. Oh, and I deliberately chose not to include a picture of this one. In its current form, it ain't pretty; not much chance of mistaking it for a Negroni by sight. Ah well, let's accept what progress we can.

Cagliostro

Another backlog item for you today, created a couple weeks ago when experimenting with Byrrh in a Negroni-type formulation. I heartily approve of the result; it's a bit sweeter and richer than a classic Negroni, but I really like the way the licorice-and-orange notes of the Averna play with the berry notes from the Byrrh.

1 1/4 oz London Dry gin (Botanist here obviously, but Tanqueray, Boodles, or another solid brand would be fine)
1 oz Byrrh
3/4 oz Averna
3 dashes Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters

Stir very well and strain into an old-fashioned glass over a fresh large ice cube. Garnish with a large strip of orange peel - I don't see one in the picture but I recall using one. Must have either added it after or it's hiding behind the cube.

I like the origin of the name on this one, too. One of the first public appearances of the Negroni in print is in a quote from none other than Orson Welles, who at the time was shooting his film Black Magic, in which he plays... Count Cagliostro. Fitting, given that the Negroni was also supposedly named for Count Camillo Negroni.

Bonus drink: this was also very pleasant as a pseudo-Boulevardier variation, with the gin replaced by Irish whiskey and bumped up to about 2 oz or so.

Easter Special

Did I forget to post this one? I forgot to post it. But that's okay - a little backlog helps make up for the terribly unproductive Mocktail Month so far. Honestly, it's been a lot of the same, and it's hard to get excited enough about a basic soda to throw a post together, even if it is handmade.

I have ideas in the works, though! I'm convinced that there has to be a way to make a substitute Negroni, or at least an Americano, probably involving Sanbitter but preferably something I can make at home. Maybe a tea concentrate and a heavily spiced syrup?

Until then: this. One of the signals that I'm getting fairly decent at this stuff is that when I ask my mother what I can bring for brunch, her response these days is as likely to be "How about you make something?" as the old standby bottle of wine. I made this low-caliber punch-type thing for Easter. The name wrote itself.

For ease of transport, the end product was a scaled-up bottled cocktail. The proportions given in the picture aren't the final version; I just needed an illustration for the post. A couple trial runs produced the following end proportions.

This makes roughly two liters of finished cocktail.

12 oz light white wine (I used a cheap gruner veltliner, but a mild pinot grigio or sauvignon blanc would do fine too)
9 oz gin (nothing fancy; New Amsterdam here)
6 oz Byrrh
3 oz Aperol
3 oz cinnamon syrup
1 1/2 oz orange juice
1 1/2 oz lemon juice

Mix this together and bottle until ready to serve. When ready, combine with an equal proportion of soda water and serve in wine glasses.

Expert Level

Here's a simple, straightforward cocktail that really took off after an unexpected twist.

2 oz pear-infused gin
3/4 oz cinnamon syrup
1 oz lemon juice

Shake and strain into a double old-fashioned glass over a large ice cube; top with 2 oz Fulton Expat.

I originally tried topping this with good old soda water, but that fell somewhat flat; the Expat added welcome spice, bitterness, and body that really kicked this into the stratosphere. If you can't get the Expat, a decent Belgian dubbel and a dash of bitters ought to do.

Man, I dig a good beer cocktail; an unexpected success is even better.

Master Martinez

In the vein of the Best Boulevardier, here's a revised take on a classic that absolutely dominates other drinks that share its name. I'm a big fan of the Martinez, but this is the best one that I've come up with yet.

1 1/2 oz Tanqueray Malacca (there is no substitute)

1/2 oz barrel-aged kirschwasser

1/2 oz sweet vermouth (Carpano Antica, because it's worth it)

1 dash maraschino liqueur (Luxardo, duh)

1 dash cinnamon syrup

3 dashes Angostura bitters

Stir well and strain into a cocktail glass; garnish with a lemon twist (check out the channel knife; haven't used that in a while!) and sip slowly.

Sorry about the kirschwasser; it's something you'll have to make age at home yourself, but it's totally worth it. Some brief time in oak really does help to round off the raw edges of the kirsch and mixes very nicely with the vermouth.

Adventures: Duluth

I've been a little coy about discussing my location, and honestly, I'm not really sure why. It's not like anyone other than close friends reads this little booze-diary of mine, and it would take a lot more drinking to convince me I'm worthy of stalking. As in, hallucinogenic levels of alcohol.

Hence, this entire post is dedicated to our recent drive up to Duluth, a little jaunt that we mostly planned around teaching my wife to ski. However, as it turns out, skiing's kind of a daytime activity, which left the nighttime to wander around seeking out local watering holes. Fortunately we'd done a little scouting in advance and stayed down on Canal Street, a lively little part of downtown with many a brewpub in walking distance.

And a craft distillery to boot! One of the first places we visited was Vikre Distillery, whose products I've written about before. They've also got a neat little tasting room out front, outfitted in very chic Scandinavian style; think Bauhaus meets North Woods, which is funky but cool. It's tiny, with a small bar and a lounge area for maybe 20, separated from the actual distillery area only by large sliding-glass panels. This gave me ample opportunity to nerd out on stills while sipping on a couple nicely-executed cocktails and a neat little tasting flight of gins and aquavit. The whole place is homey and comfortable, and I was really surprised by the obvious skill of the bartender (whose name I didn't manage to catch) as he turned out drinks using house-made everything. (Apparently this is a legal requirement of the law that allowed such cocktail tasting rooms.) I also managed to spot a couple big casks stamped with port labels lined up along a wall; I'd bet that Vikre have a port-finished something-or-other in the works, and I'm pretty excited to see the end result! You heard it here first.

Right next to our hotel was the Canal Park Brewing Co., so we pretty much had to stop by and take home a growler. We tried most everything on tap over a couple of visits, and the Greedy Bastard Black IPA was our stand-out favorite. We also popped by the Bent Paddle taproom for an apres-ski beer (and additional growler) one afternoon. But perhaps the best pub we tried was the 7 West Taproom, a really basic-looking place with a surprisingly extensive beer list. They also have a neat sampling method: write your beers directly onto a paddle with dry-erase marker, receive tasting pours of said beer.

Still, nothing held a candle to our favorite place: a beautiful, historic basement bar called the Rathskeller.

I doubt you can appreciate how much I wish this place was located closer to home. We might get into a lot of trouble down there. A bit of explanation: the bar itself is located in the sub-basement of Tycoon's Alehouse, a restaurant situated in Duluth's 1890s-era town hall. The name is a German term for a drinking establishment located in the basement of a city hall (I love such fantastically precise German words) and, true to form, this one is about 20 feet below street level in an old cellar which was apparently once used as a temporary jailhouse. There's no signage; instead, you must weave your way back to an elevator at the back of Tycoon's, and hit the button ominously marked "-1". We only knew about the place thanks to a tip from one of our regular bartenders down at my favorite pub back home.

My god, but this place is cool. The shot above shows about half the lounge area, which is laid out with plush chairs in-between mortared columns with thick arches, with a bar laid out along a wall. On that bar is a well-curated selection of whiskeys, which I did my best to taste through.

No, seriously: I made a pretty good dent. Granted, it took two separate visits (or more accurately, after the first visit, we really wanted to come back for more) but I sampled just about every whiskey on that bar that I hadn't tried before.

Here's just a sample, the highlights of the first evening. First among these, to the left: Bushmills 1608, a blend created to commemorate the distillery's 400th anniversary (yeah). This, frankly, might be the absolute best Irish whiskey I've ever sampled. Rich, spicy, smooth, malty, slightly peaty; absolutely delicious sippin' whiskey, and a really unique Irish blend. In the center: Prichard's Double Chocolate Bourbon, a really nice, rich whiskey with a ton of chocolate on the nose. Despite that, it's very nicely balanced on the palate, with just some touches of bitter chocolate on the finish. On the right is something really cool: a custom Woodford Reserve blend developed specifically for Tycoon's. Apparently, the head brewer at Fitger's Brewhouse (who also has a stake in Rathskeller) regularly visits the Woodford distillery, and on his last trip developed a custom blend from different barrels! Not too far off from the base Woodford formula, but spicier, and not something you're going to find anywhere else.

Honestly, though, the best part of the whole adventure was the company we found. First, the bartender at Rathskeller, a knowledgeable and welcoming barman by the name of Cade. He knew his stuff inside and out, and was happy to accommodate my indecision. When we visited on the second evening, he not only remembered the bottles I'd tried, but my wife's whiskey preference too, and he was happy to pull down all of the bottles so that I could snap pictures. Now that's a good bartender.

Second, in a bizarre coincidence, we ran into the very same dude from the pub who recommended Rathskeller to us in the first place, in addition to our other regular bartender and their lady friends. Kudos to Jeff and Evan for their fine taste, as always. For once, I got to buy them a drink, and we had a hell of a time chilling out. That was most definitely a pleasant surprise!

Overall, it was a hell of a trip. I don't know when we'll make it up to Duluth again, but when we do, you'll very likely find us at one of these spots again.

Valentine's Cocktail

I'm really not a big fan of Valentine's Day, it being, in my opinion, a manufactured holiday created mostly to sell sappy pablum in a ridiculous attempt to relieve post-holiday winter doldrums. (Wow, that got bleak quickly.) But, setting expectations low in the first place provides me with the ability to pleasantly surprise my wife by applying even a modest amount of effort.

On Friday, I took a much-needed day off from the day job, which pretty much committed me to making some kind of romantic gesture. So: flowers. And, playing more to my skill set, a drink utilizing both sparkling wine (the beverage of romance!) and blood orange, one of her favorite fruits.

Hence, this very pretty concoction! (Served in equally-pretty, recently acquired coupes!)

1 1/2 oz rose petal-infused gin*
1/2 oz spiced cranberry syrup
1/2 oz blood orange juice
1/2 oz lemon juice

Shake and strain into a coupe glass, then top with 1-2 oz sparkling wine to taste. Garnish with a large coin of peel from the expended blood orange. (I was going to trim the peel into a heart shape, but figured that would be a bit too much.)

*A relatively simple one: take 1 tablespoon of dried rose petals per 4 ounces of gin, combine in a glass vessel, and infuse for about 24 hours. Strain through a coffee filter, pressing gently to extract all the gin, and for every 4 ounces of gin add a drop (yes, a single drop) of rose water and three drops of Fee Brothers Rhubarb Bitters (easily omitted, but I like the bit of freshness they add).

So far as a name for this one, I'm leaving the post untitled because I can't decide between "Gun & Rose" or "Love Gun" (this being a variation of the French 75, a drink named after a cannon). The former is great as a reference, but I like the suggestiveness of the latter.

Gin & Tonic, Extra Short

I've had an odd idea rattling around my head lately. I thought it might be a fun challenge to try replicating the flavor of cocktails in a non-alcoholic syrup form. Hence, this afternoon I cooked up a tonic syrup with gin botanicals, aiming to mimic the flavors of a classic gin & tonic. This wound up quite convincing; the recipe's not perfect yet, but I'll reproduce it below.

Of course, beyond the obvious application of a G&T without any actual gin involved, this also offered the possibility of integrating those same flavors into different drinks. My first foray was simply inverting the ratios of gin and tonic, creating an old-fashioned formula that tasted like a compact version of the classic highball.

2 oz gin (Citadelle Reserve, to enhance the lovely golden color, but any London Dry would do fine)
1/3 oz gin & tonic syrup*
3 dashes Fee Brothers Orange Bitters (I would really have liked a quality lemon bitters here, but didn't have one)

Shake and strain into a cocktail glass; top with a scant dash of soda, just for a little fizz. Garnish with a lemon twist.

*Take the peel of 4-5 large lemons and muddle in a large bowl with 2 cups of sugar. Set aside and crush 1/2 cup of juniper berries, 1 tablespoon of black peppercorns, and 1 tablespoon of coriander seeds. Add these to a saucepan along with 1/4 cup of cinchona bark and 1 tablespoon of black tea leaves and bring the whole thing to a boil, then simmer until the volume reduces to about 2 cups. Add the lemon-sugar mixture, stir until the sugar dissolves, and pour through a fine strainer. Bottle in an airtight container and refrigerate. Next time, I'm planning to add a bit of fresh thyme and possibly a touch of lavender; maybe green tea instead of black, too.

Hey look, new glassware! My wife directed us to a thrift shop way out in a distant suburb searching for a coffee table, where I promptly got distracted by a surprising array of vintage glassware. A couple hours later, we arrived home with the coffee table plus enough new coupes to cover almost the entire thing. (Shown below. Not shone: the punch set, also vintage style. Yes, I bought a second punch set.) Yay! Expect these decorative varieties to start popping up in pictures here soon.

Beauregard Gin Fizz

The Ramos Gin Fizz is one of those well-regarded classic cocktails that you will never see on any cocktail menus (except maybe in its hometown of New Orleans). Reason being, it's a damn tasty drink but it is also a horrific pain in the ass. Egg is finicky enough to integrate that it takes its own technique to properly emulsify; add cream, and you've got a drink that takes at least a minute of sustained shaking to get right. That's troublesome even at home (after every round, I swear my arms are going to fall off) but I can't even imagine cranking out dozens each night.

Still, every now and again a floral, refreshing, richly textured cocktail is worth it.  Winter must be eroding my brain again.

2 oz gin (I'd have used Old Tom if I had any)
1 oz lemon juice
3/4 oz blueberry syrup
3/4 oz half-and-half
3 drops rose water
1 small egg white (or 1/2 a large egg white)

Dry shake (as in, combine everything and shake without ice) until you can't take it anymore, then add ice and shake some more. Keep shaking. Do your arms hurt yet? Keep shaking. You're not done. Keep shaking. Curse eggs and dairy, curse yourself for choosing such a beverage, curse your cruel and capricious God. Keep shaking.

After a subjective eternity, strain into a tall, footed fizz glass if you've got one (or your thinnest, tallest glass if you don't) and top off with 2-3 oz of chilled soda water. Stir gently, garnish with a little drizzle of extra blueberry syrup for super-fanciness. Such a difficult cocktail should not go undecorated.