Death On Two Legs

An old-school pure-cocktail post? How delightfully antiquated! I'm a little sad at how uncommon these have become, but that's how it goes. It doesn't really help that I've settled into a mixing style that relies on simplicity, showcasing spirits and classic recipes. Which makes things easy, but not exactly flashy or generally blog-worthy - at least most of the time.

It's become something of an odd trick that I hit my mixological stride only after I've already had a considerable amount. Thus, last weekend a friend and I had already had enough to render us insensible when I decided to break out my bottle of Alto del Carmen Pisco Reservado. This, I figured, would be interesting to try, being quite an oddity: a pisco both from Chile and which spent enough time in oak to change color. After a quick taste, I somewhat-coherently decided that it would do very nicely in a simple Sazerac-style drink (I think I mumbled something like "Sure, why the fuck not?").

The pisco being fairly sweet and floral to begin with, I decided to swap the traditional absinthe rinse for a smoky mezcal instead, which was a superb decision. Here, the result, to which my friend mumbled in turn something like "Dude, thass a fucking good drink."

2 1/4 oz Alto de Carmen Pisco Reservado
1/4 oz rosemary-citrus syrup
2 dashes Peychaud's bitters
2 dashes Regan's orange bitters

Rinse an old-fashioned glass with mezcal (I keep an atomizer loaded with mezcal for applications like this) and place it in the freezer. Stir the ingredients over ice and strain into the prepared glass, squeeze a strip of lemon peel over the glass and discard, then repeat with a fresh strip of peel and drop in as garnish.

Fucking good drink! And to cap it off, I figured a Queen reference was in order; I could have sworn I'd used this name before, but not according to my recent trawling through archives. So, the pretty pale pink drink with the punchy backbone wins it.

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?

Very Old Fashioned

This isn't actually especially old - it's just the best name I could come up with on short notice.

1 1/2 oz Plantation 20th Anniversary Rum
1/2 oz Laird's Apple Brandy
1/4 oz mezcal (Vida)
1/4 oz pineapple syrup
3 dashes Bitter Truth Celery Bitters

Stir over a large ice cube in an old-fashioned glass.  FUCK GARNISH.  That's the kind of mood I'm in.  Booze in a glass, dammit, and fast!

Southern Side

I have kind of a contentious relationship with mint.  Keeping some around for use in juleps and such is great, but it always winds up on a top shelf in our fridge, where it remains forgotten until I notice its decidedly brown color.  At that point, it's just gotta get used.

Using up a near-empty bottle of mezcal seemed like an interesting merger, and I vaguely remembered a recipe from Speakeasy that sounded like a good fit - which actually wound up being a Prohibition-era classic from the Savoy Cocktail Book.  I swapped some mezcal in for gin to provide a smoky flavor, and at that point a pineapple syrup seemed only obvious.

1 1/2 oz gin (Tanqueray)
1/2 oz mezcal (Vida)
1/2 oz pineapple syrup
3/4 oz lemon juice
1/4 oz orange juice
2 bunches mint (about 15-20 leaves)

Shake well to pulverize the mint and strain into a cocktail glass.  Garnish with a strip of orange peel.

If you prefer, you could double-strain this to remove the tiny mint pieces, but I kinda like the texture they provide.  It also provides a nice visual impact, so you'll want to garnish with a mint leaf instead to keep the color.

Applewood

The highly-effective pairing of scotch and apple brandy in that last drink got me thinking about other options.  I'm pretty sure I've combined tequila and applejack before, so why not mezcal?  In fact, why not all three?

3/4 oz scotch (Dalmore 12 Year this time)
3/4 oz Laird's Straight Apple Brandy
1/4 oz mezcal (Del Maguey Vida Mezcal Joven)
1/2 oz sweet vermouth (Cinzano again)
1 dash Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters
1 drop orange blossom water

Stir briefly over ice and strain into an old-fashioned glass.  I don't understand this "garnish".

I tried this originally as a scaffa-style unchilled drink, but the dilution (more than the chilling) really seems to help take the edge off.  I might try this with a bit of chilled water rather than ice next time.

Luchador

More playing around with mezcal.

3/4 oz Sombra mezcal
1 1/4 oz pineapple-tequila-sage liqueur (you'll have to make this one yourself, although I may very well provide a recipe soon)
1/2 oz Cocchi Americano

Stir well over ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with a lime coin squeezed on both sides to express the oil and juice and drop in.

This one was experimental but worked out very nicely indeed.

Silversmith

I was absolutely delighted to receive an order of exotic spirits this week, which had been hunted down specifically because I'd never seen their ilk in any of my local liquor stores.  Among them was a bottle of Sombra mezcal, a spirit I'd been itching to experiment with.  I popped it open almost immediately.  "Whoa!" I called to my wife, "this smells like somebody chucked a pineapple into a campfire."  To which she wrinkled her nose and agreed.

Turns out, I wasn't far off.  The process of making mezcal, a cousin of tequila, consists of digging a large pit, filling it with hot rocks, then tossing in a bunch of agave piña (also the Spanish for "pineapple", which it closely resembles).  After roasting for days, these are mashed and left to ferment, finally resulting in a powerful spirit that tastes something like tequila infused with cigar smoke.  The silver Sombra mezcal that I received is particularly intense, and it took some taming.  Still, it holds its flavor very well in cocktails, and lends a resounding smoky flavor.

This particular drink was just me playing around, and is named after the place where Sombra is made: Oaxaca, Mexico.  Silver jewelry shops are a major component of the tourist trade there.

1 oz Sombra mezcal
1 oz pineapple-infused tequila (I used resposado
1/2 oz Cynar
1/2 oz kumquat syrup
1 dash lime juice

Shake with plentiful ice and pour into an old-fashioned glass; garnish with a caramelized pineapple slice if you're feeling fancy, or nothing if you're feeling lazy.