Cedared Martinez

It's time once again for the Weird Gin Cocktail Hour!  Seems like there's not a month where I find some new, unusual gin that just begs to be taken home.  This time, it's Vikre Distillery's Boreal Cedar Gin, which I almost feel bad for mentioning; it's brand-new, hyper-local, and near as I can tell not yet distributed outside my home state.  It's an interesting spirit, very subtly colored and flavored with cedar wood, which is probably a first. The cedar is most definitely prominent, sharing space with some classic botanicals as a somewhat piney presence before ballooning out into campfire smoke with a mild forest-berry backdrop.  It's a little bit hot at the end (campfire in more ways than one) but despite all that cedar manages to be more restrained than other evergreen-infused gins like St. George Terrior or Rogue Spruce Gin.

That unique smoky presence makes this a dead-on match for Cynar.  After some experimentation, here's a Martinez rendition designed to make use of this potent combination.

2 oz Boreal Cedar Gin
1/4 oz Licor 43
1/4 oz Cynar
1/4 oz red vermouth (plain old Martini & Rossi, this time)
1 dash Regan's No. 6 Orange Bitters

Stir and strain into a cocktail glass.  Garnish with a thin strip of orange peel, or nothing at all.

If you're adventurous, you can swap out some or all of the red vermouth for additional Cynar (in which case you might want to drop the bitters) but I like this more balanced approach.  From experience I can also tell you that Luxardo, Benedictine, and even Rothman & Winter's Apricot liqueur all make interesting substitutions for the Licor 43.

The Hamlet Cocktails

Allow me to subject you to a bit of revisionism.  When I first stumbled on the preliminary "Hamlet's Cocktail" (equal parts aquavit, Cherry Heering, and Cynar, stirred well) it seemed that I'd found a classic yet apparently original combination.  As often happens, I took to tinkering, and found that the savory herb-cherry-bitters profile could be adapted into a number of cocktails.  Here are four renditions, one for each season, together demonstrating how a cocktail can be riffed on to produce seasonal specialties.

The King's Ghost (spring version)
Hamlet's meeting of his father's ghost is the opening scene of the play, so it seemed only appropriate to include the ectoplasm-colored absinthe in this one.

1 1/4 oz aquavit (North Shore is my preference here; use the clear Aalborg if you must)
1/2 oz Cherry Heering
1/2 oz Luxardo
1 oz Cocchi Americano
1 dash orange bitters

Rinse a small bar glass with absinthe and toss out the remainder; set this in the chiller to "season" as with the classic Sazerac.  Stir the above over ice and strain into the seasoned glass, then fill up with fresh ice.  Garnish with an orange twist.

Flowers From Ophelia (summer version)
I just really like this name.  Ophelia's a bit crazy and this one is too, though it makes a fine summer tonic.

1 1/4 oz aquavit (Aalborg is actually perfect here)
1/4 oz kirschwasser
1/2 oz Luxardo
1/2 oz orange curacao
1/2 oz Aperol (could use Campari in a pinch)

Pour the above over large ice cubes in a large Collins glass and fill up with soda water.  Garnish with a couple of orange half-wheels inserted into the drink, plus an edible flower on top if you're feeling pretentious.

That Sleep of Death (fall version)
Somewhat morbidly titled, but hey, Hamlet is a tragedy.  This is closest to the original in construction, with minor modifications.

1 1/2 oz aquavit (North Shore, please; your best substitute is Linie for this one)
1 1/4 oz Cherry Heering
3/4 oz Cynar

Stir the above well and strain into a chilled cocktail glass; garnish with a flamed orange coin.

Alas, Poor Yorick (winter version)
A few of these would be enough to kill just about any clown (look it up, kids).

2 oz aquavit (Linie is most appropriate here)
1 1/2 oz Cherry Heering
10 dashes Bitter Truth Jerry Thomas' Own Decanter Bitters
1 dash orange curacao (optional, honestly)

Stir gently (you don't want this one too cold) and strain into a chilled cocktail glass; garnish with a brandied cherry (carved into the shape of a skull if you can manage it) and a bit of fresh-grated nutmeg.

Moroccan Haze

Here's a potent and slightly foggy cocktail that was too good not to write down.

1 1/4 oz cognac (VSOP grade or better would be nice)
1/4 oz absinthe
1/4 oz Cynar (I haven't tried Cocchi Torino, Carpano Antica, or other reasonably bitter vermouths, but I have every reason to expect that any of them would work; however, the herbal notes of Cynar have an interesting synthesis with the absinthe)
1/4 oz rooibos tea syrup
2 dashes ras-el-hanout bitters (I'll get around to publishing a recipe someday, I swear)
2 dashes orange bitters

Stir and strain into a cocktail glass; garnish with a large orange coin squeezed to express the oil.

Poison Apple

I think I'm about ready to go back to work. It's not like I have a problem with day drinking (as in, I don't completely frown on the practice) but I'm pretty sure that drinking scotch while the sun's up is some kind of warning sign.

2 oz scotch (a blended Speyside; Pig's Nose would do)
1/4 oz sweet vermouth
1/4 oz Cynar
1/4 oz pineapple syrup
2 dashes Bitter Truth Xocolatl Bitters

Stir over a large ice cube in an old-fashioned glass. If we were going all-out here, I'd say garnish with a dehydrated slice of cacao nib-crusted pineapple, but anything less would be foolish.

Don't worry about the name - I realize there's no actual apple in this. Like most of my cocktail names it's derived from a whole chain of barely-coherent puns that rattle around my skull whenever I think about such things.

Briny Deep

Okay, fine, I admit it - I wanted a Pitch Black, I was out of vermouth, and I subbed in another amaro instead.  So what?  It's tasty enough to merit its own name anyway.

1 1/4 oz Cutty Sark Prohibition Edition
1 oz Averna
1 oz Cynar
1/4 oz overproof dark rum (did you know that Gosling's makes a 151-proof version?)

Stir over a large ice cube in an old-fashioned glass; garnish with a small pinch of salt on top of the cube.

This makes for an impressively dark and sultry drink.  Worth hunting down the amaros for, if you ask me.

Grandfather Cocktails

I somehow managed to delete this post!  I'll reconstruct it as best I can...

I recently re-read Jason Wilson's Boozehound - a very entertaining exploration of unusual booze categories.  One of my favorite chapters goes into detail about amaros, the Italian bitter liqueurs best exemplified in this country by Campari.  I've included Cynar (wonderful, bizarre, artichoke-y goodness) in a few recipes, but haven't explored many other amaros on my own before.  A few weeks ago, I decided to splurge and try a couple that I'd never worked with before.

I wound up with bottles of Averna and Zucca.  These share a dark, intense, herbal quality but have very different takes.  Averna is appropriately Sicilian, full of black liquorice, orange peel, and a hint of walnut.  Zucca focuses on jammy red fruit, dark spices, and an interesting astringency (possibly from the inclusion of rhubarb).

Both of these are quite pleasant on their own over ice with a liberal splash of soda water; this makes for a simple, bittersweet apertif.  I've also seen them used in recipes like the Black Manhattan, but thought they might really shine as supplements in a classic old-fashioned.

#1 (Papa Averna)

2 oz aged rum (Plantation 20th Anniversary, because that's how I roll)
1/2 oz Averna
1/4 oz orgeat (homemade)
2 dashes orange bitters (Regan's No. 6)

Stir over ice in a cocktail glass.  Garnish with orange peel, if you want.

#2 (Papa Zucca)

2 oz bourbon (delicious Willett Pot Still Reserve)
1/2 oz Zucca
1/4 oz orgeat (I had a bunch left over from some as-yet-unposted Easter cocktails)
2 dashes aromatic bitters (Angostura)

Stir over ice in a cocktail glass.  Garnish with a cocktail cherry, if you're feeling fancy.

These are both old-fashioned and bitter - hence the term "grandfather cocktails".  Get it?!?  (Sorry, I occasionally fall victim to compulsive punning.)

Northwoods

A very incise, woodsy, herbal drink. I think I'm gonna make quite a few of these.

1 oz rye whiskey (Bulleit)
1/2 oz Loonshine
1/2 oz Cynar
1/2 oz sweet vermouth (Cocchi Torino)
15 drops Bittercube Door County Hops Bitters

Stir and strain over a large ice cube in an old-fashioned glass. Garnish with a strip of lemon peel.

Soda Siphon Experiments

With the approach of warmer weather, I've been spending a lot more time perched on our patio, drink in one hand, book in the other.  That drink is usually a long one, something thirst-quenching and relatively low in alcohol - a caress rather than a punch.  Most recently, I've been experimenting with my beloved soda siphon, using it to construct pre-made carbonated cocktails.

Once you've got a decent set of bar tools and glassware, a soda siphon is a logical step in specialized equipment.  Sure, they cost a little bit, and the chargers aren't free either, although you can find them cheap in bulk online.  Yet a splash of soda water adds life and lightness to many drinks, and opens up a whole world of easy homemade sodas when you want (or need) something non-alcoholic.  You can buy acrid, overly sharp soda water in bottles that go flat within hours of opening, or you can bite the bullet and invest in the tools to make your own on demand.  I think it's obvious which route I recommend.

Not included in the manufacturer's directions (which you should obviously read) is the possibility for adding more than just water to your siphon.  It's best not to use anything very acidic or thick, since you don't want to corrode or gum up the inner workings, but that still leaves a lot of room to maneuver.  For example, I poured in a somewhat boring bottle of sweet rhubarb wine, augmented with a splash of crisp Sauvignon Blanc and topped off with water.  After charging and letting rest in the fridge (which helps hold the carbonation better for some reason) I had a light and refreshing sparkling wine spritzer enjoyed by all.

Below is an example of a general formula I've hashed out over time.  The proportions make for a light and refreshingly bitter highball, best served in a tall glass with plentiful ice.  You can serve as much or as little as desired, and substitute ingredients to your whim.

This particular recipe is a riff on the Americano, the father of the Negroni, with a couple of well-placed accents.  The weirdo total volume is because a 1-liter soda siphon holds slightly less than that when you account for a small amount of necessary airspace.

200 ml Aperol (or Campari)
100 ml gin (London Dry, Old Tom, or Hendrick's are all welcome)
50 ml maraschino liqueur (Luxardo, duh)
600 ml cucumber water

Pour into a 1-liter soda siphon, charge, and let chill for at least 2 hours.  Pour slowly over plentiful ice and garnish with cucumber slices.

If you're not using a siphon, use the following proportions per serving.

1 1/3 oz Aperol; 2/3 oz gin; 1/3 oz Luxardo; 2 oz soda water; 2 oz cucumber water

Again, this is a formula highly amenable to substitution.  Try the following combinations in the same proportions as above.

Cynar - silver tequila - St. Germain - cantaloupe water

Punt e Mes - blended scotch - Cointreau - lemon water

I have a few tonic recipes around and may try a precharged version soon.  It's getting close to G&T season. In the meantime, any of these do very nicely.

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.

Antonin's Black Heart

Here's a commemorative drink, in the grand tradition of bartenders naming cocktails after memorable people. The person in question is one who I disagreed with on almost everything, but he was certainly influential and he seemed like a guy who would enjoy a stiff drink.

And I think we all need one of these now that an already insane election season just got crazier.

1 1/2 oz Laird's Straight Apple Brandy
3/4 oz Cynar
3/4 oz red vermouth
1/4 oz ruby port
1/4 Islay scotch (or similarly peaty, briny monster)
2 dashes Bitter Truth Jerry Thomas' Own Decanter bitters
2 dashes Fee Brothers Black Walnut bitters

Stir and strain into an old-fashioned glass over a single large cube. Garnish with a large coin of orange peel (I used blood orange, appropriately enough) and a few grains of sea salt.

Hamlet's Cocktail (Alas, Poor Yorick)

Another unusual drink, this one somewhat simpler in construction.

1 1/2 oz aquavit (I like North Shore's very interesting, domestically made rendition)
1 1/2 oz Cherry Heering (really the only cherry liqueur that works for this, unless you make your own at home)
3/4 oz Cynar (bizarre, artichoke-y goodness)

Shake lightly and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with an orange wheel, brandied cherry, or old skull.  Gaze deeply and solemnly into the glass before knocking back.

It took a couple days for this one to percolate, but now the name seems perfectly obvious.  Both aquavit and Heering are traditionally Danish and fit for a prince (Heering was an official purveyor to the Royal Danish Court).  The entire thing is rather dark, somewhat bitter, lightly shaken, and highly profound--there's a lot of flavor to digest here.

I'm rather proud to call this one original, if a bit weird.  When I shared this recipe with one of my bartending mentors and friends, his immediate reaction was "Wow, that might be a bit too strange for me."  Take that as you will.  I'm not saying it's for everybody, I'm just saying it merits a try if you happen to have these ingredients on hand.

Catching up

Hah - see!  Any of my writings beginning with a manifesto almost immediately fails to meet its stated goal.  No matter, let's just make up for some lost time.

I spent a significant chunk of this weekend behind a bar, and as usual when we're overstaffed, we had some time for experimentation.  We set a goal of utilizing scotch, which we don't sell much of.  What little we do sell is primarily single malt, and served neat, so the poor sad bottle of Johnny Walker Black sits lonely among its fellows on the shelf.  Why not let him have a little fun?

Blended scotch was all the rage about a hundred years ago, and grew to popularity out of marketing genius, capitalizing on the American invasion of a uniquely Scottish phenomenon: golf.  It's a key component in a very classic Manhattan variation, the Rob Roy, which is a damned good drink if made properly.  Dave Wondrich (via Imbibe!) gives a recipe from 1902 made with equal parts scotch and red vermouth, plus a few dashes of orange bitters and lemon peel.  Another favorite of mine is the Marie Taylor, a drink rescued from oblivion by Dr. Cocktail himself (I got the recipe from Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, but the linked recipe is almost identical).  Why the Mamie Taylor ever went out of fashion is beyond me, as it's basically a richer, more interesting Moscow Mule that appeals even to non-scotch-drinkers.

Anyway, scotch doesn't appear in a great number of cocktails, mostly because it's notoriously hard to mix with, but it can be quite effective if well-used.  My first attempt was a rather simple Rob Roy variation made with Johnny Walker Black, Cynar, and Licor 43: easy, tasty, but nothing too far off the beaten path.  Coworker David immediately surprised me by grabbing a handful of fresh strawberries and muddling them with the Johnny Walker and a bit of Grand Marnier to tie things together.  A dash of orange juice completed his attempt, but the result fell flat until I grabbed some Fee's Aztec Chocolate Bitters in a fit of inspiration.  The result had a surprising balance between scotch-chocolate richness and strawberry-orange tartness, although I would love to swap the Marnier for a liqueur with some vanilla character like Tuaca, plus maybe an egg for texture...

Having passed these two around to the staff, we started deviating from our original mission.  David took aim at the row of amaros that have been steadily accumulating on the back shelf of the bar, while I reached for a recent addition: St. George absinthe.  I was slightly nervous about tequila as a base, but a resposado (in this case, Aguavales Gold, which is very good for the price) worked wonderfully when paired again with Licor 43.  The herbs and spices in all three teamed up wonderfully, although I would have loved to try an añejo if we carried one.

We'll squeeze recipes out of these yet; for now, they're still just ideas.  I hope you don't mind the banter.  I'll make up the missing recipes with some oldies from my tasting notebook.

The Uppercut

I don't know why it's named this, other than the punch it packs.

1 1/2 oz aquavit (use the aged Norwegian variety; Linie is a good go-to brand)
1/2 oz maraschino liqueur (Luxardo, as always)
1/2 oz Cynar (everyone's favorite artichoke apertif! yes, really.)
1/4 oz lime juice
1 dash absinthe

Stir vigorously and strain into a chilled cocktail glass; spear a brandied cherry and stir into the drink as garnish.

This is a rather incisive drink, filled with bitter orange, cherry, dark spices, and rich herbs.  I'd also be happy to try this with brandy (something fairly young, 3 years or less) or a rye whiskey in place of the aquavit, but would bet it wouldn't be quite as interesting.

All In

Here's a drink named after its construction. This started when I couldn't decide between a Negroni and a Boulevardier, and things escalated from there. The genever is a beautiful midpoint between gin and whiskey, and while I was at it I decided to split the modifiers as well.  The result looks overly complicated but is tasty as hell, enough to warrant its own post (which is kind of an event these days!)

2 oz Bols barrel-aged genever
1/2 oz red vermouth
1/2 oz rainwater Madiera (a medium-dry sherry might work too)
1/2 oz Cappelletti Aperitivo
1/2 oz Cynar
4 dashes orange bitters (Regan's No. 6)
1 dash maraschino liqueur (Luxardo)

Stir and strain over a large cube. A bit of lemon or orange peel would make a nice garnish here, but as you can see I skipped it (having neither readily available). A fancy glass sufficed for me.

Beignroni

A french-y version of the wonderful Itatian-ish Negroni, one of my personal favorite cocktails?  Sure, and why not call it something that nobody will be able to pronounce correctly?  Say the first part like "beinget".

1 oz cognac
1 oz Cynar
1 oz sweet vermouth
1 dash orange bitters

Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Notebook Cocktail #9

Somewhere in here I had a rather unhealthy fixation on double-base cocktails, meaning those that combine two different liquors in equal proportion.  Classic examples such as the Vieux Carre are among my favorite drinks (you may have noticed a couple variations) and I like trying to get spirits playing off one another.  It's a damned difficult trick to pull off; out of maybe a half-dozen cocktails that I vaguely recall, this was the only one enjoyable enough to deserve recording.

1 oz rye (Wild Turkey here)
1 oz Bak's Bison Grass vodka
3/4 oz Cynar
1/4 oz Licor 43
2 dashes aromatic bitters

Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass; garnish with a wide swath of orange peel.

And that, my friends, concludes the run of Notebook Cocktails (representing maybe 10% at most of my output during this latest hiatus).  I'll try to spread these out a little in future.  In the meantime, I wish all of you a very pleasant July 4th weekend (those of you reading from the U.S., anyway).

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!

Home Bar Basics

After work last weekend I hopped down to a nearby watering hole for a quick burger and beer.  Mid-meal a couple of ladies planted themselves a short distance down and begged the bartender's opinion on the best way to get started on a simple home bar.  That caught my attention, as did the bartender's answer: start with five or so base spirits (whiskey, gin, rum, vodka, and tequila) and buy gradually more expensive items as they need replacement.  I couldn't help but pipe in at this point, with a strongly worded suggestion that liqueurs, vermouth, and bitters be included too.

The conversation continued after I settled up and left, and it held my interest on the drive home.  It's a damned good question: what do you really need in a home bar?  We all have to start somewhere, and we definitely can't all stock up right away.  Tools are pretty basic, honestly.  You can get by and make most drinks with no more than a couple of items:

1. a shaker you like (assuming it's the easy-to-find 3-piece "cobbler" style, you can stir and strain using this too)
2. something to stir with (a bar spoon is the classic tool, but a plastic reusable chopstick works just fine too)
3. a muddler (wood or metal is best, plastic not so much)
4. a small knife for garnishes (you probably already have something suitable
5. a measuring device (something in increments of 1/4 oz or smaller; you could even use a set of measuring spoons, since 1 tablespoon = 1/2 liquid oz)

Really, that's about it.  Obviously you can deck yourself out with Boston shakers, julep strainers, jiggers, pour spouts, and anything else, but the five above are the true minimum for 99% of cocktail recipes.  As you can see, you've probably already got many items that will do simply by having access to a basic kitchen.  To be fair, you'll need something to drink out of too, but glassware is largely up to you.  I'd go with martini glasses for drinks served up, standard water glasses for highballs, and rocks/juice glasses for stuff in between.  You could add champagne flutes too for bubbly stuff, or just all-purpose small wine glasses.  Beyond that it's whatever you like and can afford.

Ingredients are the complicated part, but for a flexible yet basic home bar, there are some ground rules.  Base spirits are the obvious part.  You'll want a selection of at least three, out of the list of available options:

• Vodka, which I don't regard as all that essential
• Gin, a key part of so many classic cocktails
• Tequila, 100% agave or don't bother
• Rum, aged or not
• Whiskey, anything from bourbon to rye to scotch
• Brandy, including varieties such as cognac and pisco

Regarding price point, I'm really not convinced that top-shelf ingredients are essential to crafting excellent cocktails.  Lower-end spirits have their place too, particularly if you're using a mixer; the finest rum available is overkill if you're pouring it over ice with Coke.  That said, try to stay away from the very bottom shelf.  Most of the stuff down there is cheap grain alcohol, diluted with water and flavored with artificial agents; it's poor imitation of the real deal at best.  The top shelf is all well and good, but if you're setting up a basic home bar for the first time, why spend an arm and a leg on ingredients that you haven't even played around with yet?  Aim for the middle; there are very fine deals here.  In generally I usually find that top-shelf spirits cost roughly five times more than their bottom-shelf counterparts (great bourbon costs $50, cheap whiskey costs $10).  Search out the stuff that's half as expensive as the best bottle, but twice as expensive as the cheapest ($20-25 in our example above).  You're bound to find a wide variety to choose from, and you can always upgrade later if you find a spirit you particularly enjoy.

Base spirits alone, though, do not make for anything close to a well-rounded bar.  For every liquor in your cabinet, there's a mandatory bottle of accent.  After all, it's the possibility of endless combination that differentiates cocktails from wine and beer - not that there's anything wrong with those, and in fairness they need fewer tools to enjoy.  But cocktails should be exciting, creative, and spontaneous, and you'll never get that from just pouring whiskey on the rocks.

First of all, there are sweetening agents.  I think you can reasonably get by with two: an orange liqueur, and something else.  The orange liqueur can be either triple sec (drier) or curacao (sweeter).  On balance I prefer triple sec, specifically Cointreau.  This ingredient is central to many popular classics, from the Margarita to the Sidecar and the Cosmopolitan, and it plays very well with a wide range of ingredients.  The other sweetener is your choice, depending on what you like and what's seasonal.  There are plenty of possibilities: Chambord, St. Germain, Beneditctine, maraschino (Luxardo the clear preference), Drambuie, Chartreuse... Marie Brizard and Rothman & Winter both make some very fine lines as well.  Should you find a couple of these that you really like, you could justifiably replace that orange liqueur too, but I'd prefer to supplement rather than replace.  Remember that you can afford to spend a little more on ingredients in this category, because you'll use them in lower quantity than your base spirits.  Try and avoid bottom-shelf liqueurs; they're more artificial, more cloyingly sweet, and much less complex in flavor than the good stuff.  Spring for a couple of decent bottles that will last a while.

Second, vermouth is an absolutely critical accent.  Vermouth makes a Dry Martini or Manhattan what they are, and I wouldn't want to have a bar that couldn't produce them.  Moreover, vermouth can add sweetness, bitterness, and herbal complexity to a drink all at the same time, making it a great ingredient for experimentation.  You're best off having both the dry/white/French and sweet/red/Italian varieties; other "rose" and "blanc" styles also exist, and have some interesting uses, but they're less common in drink recipes.  Plenty of major brands (Noilly Prat and the iconic Martini among my favorites) come in half-bottle sizes, which is usually what I buy.  Being based on wine, vermouth can oxidize, losing its pleasant flavor in the process and replacing it with an acrid twang.  I sincerely believe that there's a special corner of hell reserved for those bartenders who store their vermouth with a speed pourer on the bar rail.  Always, always, keep your vermouth in the fridge. It will last longer and taste far better.  Buying half-bottles ensures that you replace them more frequently, keeping your supply fresh.


Third, there are bitters, an ingredient central to the original definition of the word "cocktail".  These are extremely potent infusions of flavorful herbs and spices, and serve as the spice rack in mixology; a little dash can add a ton of flavor and transform a drink into something else entirely.  There are two major types of bitters: "potable" versions, often from Italy and mostly based on wine (like vermouth), and classical bitters, based on spirits and meant to be used in very small quantities.  Potable bitters, called amaros in Italy, can be used all on their own, and are typified by the well-known Campari.  I highly suggest keeping a bottle around (if not Campari, then its close cousin Aperol, or others such as Averna and Cynar) but wouldn't call them absolutely essential to a basic bar.  Make them one of your first expansions, though.  They are brilliantly flexible and can be used in whatever quantity you want, from small dashes to add a little bite and complexity, all the way up to the spirit in a light highball (Campari & soda, anyone?)  


Classic bitters are an entirely different animal, and are typified by the ubiquitous Angostura.  Used in small dashes, they primarily add depth and spice to cocktails.  They're readily available and almost never have to be replaced, so it just doesn't make sense to omit them from your basic setup.  Angostura and other "aromatic" bitters can be found just about everywhere, and just about any will serve.  If possible, look for a bottle of orange bitters as well.  These are typically lighter and fresher, and have seen a huge resurgence within the last five years; many decent liquor stores will carry them, and dozens of varieties can be found online.  Bitters can transform a drink from okay to outstanding, and since they're used in such small quantity they take a very small part of your total investment.


I won't go beyond mentioning basic elements like fresh juices and syrups; these are a minor part of your investment and should be added as needed for whatever strikes your fancy.  If you're making Sidecars, pick up a couple of lemons; if you're making Mojitos, grab limes and mint and whip up some simple syrup.  Mixers such as tonic, soda, and ginger ale are good to keep around, particularly in the summer when long drinks are the name of the game.  You can produce these yourself, of course; I've detailed my fondness for the soda siphon before, but that may be going too far for a basic home bar.  Oh, and of course there's ice: both an ingredient and a tool, really.  Keep plenty of it around.

So really, that's about it!  Seems like a lot, I realize, but I truly think this is the minimum investment for a toolkit that will let you produce the vast majority of classic cocktails.  Even without branching out, you've got plenty of room for experimentation, substitution, and creativity.  Make a few additions gradually, and you'll have a full semi-professional bar with which to astound your friends and produce some damned fine drinks.