Wednesday, February 8, 2012

dwight street book club

2 oz El Dorado White Rum
1 oz Lemon Juice
1 oz Carpano Antica Sweet Vermouth
1/2 oz Pedro Ximénez Sherry
1/2 oz Burnt Cinnamon Syrup

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass painted with two streaks of port reduction paint (post-rotovapping, boiled down).

Tuesday last week, Andrea and I took the opportunity to visit the newly redesigned bar at Clio. The bar gained about three seats in length as the lounge area on the short side of the bar was removed; this might be expanded to 4 or 5 more seats depending on the chair spacing. Moreover, the bar gained an additional work station for crafting drinks which will come in handy on the busier nights. In addition, the white marble bar top transformed into a wooden one, the back bar acquired a bit of lighting, and the television luckily evaporated. Still the same old Todd Maul behind the stick, but since we had last seen him, he gained a rotovap and seems to have had a lot of fun tinkering and extracting flavors with it. While Andrea tried a drink that had purified aspects of Lillet Blanc, I went with the Dwight Street Book Club that used remnants of a rotovapped port wine as a garnish.
The Dwight Street Book Club offered up a rum and sweet grape aroma. The grape continued on in the sip where it was countered by the lemon. On the swallow, the rum was followed by cinnamon and sherry notes. Overall, the drink was rather lightly bodied; however, as the paint shed from the sides of the glass, it made the last few sips much more heavier in body with rich port flavors.

temporary fix

2 oz Citadelle Gin
1/2 oz Crème de Cassis
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
1/4 oz Simple Syrup

Shake with ice and strain into a rocks glass filled with crushed ice. Garnish with a lemon twist and add straws.

The other drink I had at Brick and Mortar was the Temporary Fix made for me by bartender Misty Kalkofen. Besides my adoration of the Fix, a classic but nearly lost and forgotten drink class, I was lured into ordering this menu item for it was in the structure of the Mississippi (or Missouri) Mule, a recipe we made from one of Duffy's cocktail books shortly after starting to make drinks at home years ago. While I did not ask Misty about how a Fix came on to the menu, I surmise that she wanted to find a good use for the small format ice machine the bar owns.
The Temporary Fix began with a lemony aroma that led into a lemon and berry sip. Most of the cassis notes came through on the swallow though; when paired with the gin's botanicals, the cassis gained an interesting bitter aspect to it.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

sentimental gentleman

2 oz Douglas XO Blended Scotch
1/2 oz Bénédictine
1/2 oz Nux Alpina Walnut Liqueur

Stir with ice and strain into a rocks glass.
Two Sundays ago, Andrea and I ate dinner at Veggie Galaxy and headed over to Brick and Mortar where bartenders Kenny Belanger and Misty Kalkofen were making drinks. For my first cocktail, I asked Kenny for the Sentimental Gentleman which offered up a peaty smoke aroma from the Scotch that later gained walnut notes as it warmed up. The malt from the Scotch filled the sip, and the swallow was an interplay of the herbal Bénédictine and the walnut. Rather poetically, the Sentimental Gentleman got a bit more bitter and sharp over time as it acclimated to room temperature.

benjamin barker daiquiri

2 oz Aged Rum (1 oz Appleton VV, 1 oz Coruba Dark)
1/2 oz Campari
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1/2 oz Demerara Simple Syrup (Jaggery)
1/8 oz Absinthe Verte (La Muse Verte)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a floated lime wheel.

Two Saturdays ago, Andrea was in the mood for an absinthe drink so I opened up Kate Simon's Absinthe Cocktails book looking for inspiration. The recipe that called out to me was from Brain Miller of Death & Co.; his Benjamin Barker Daiquiri was named after one of the aliases Sweeney Todd, the razor-wielding killer of The String of Pearls and The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. What drew me to the recipe was not the absinthe but the addition of Campari to the Daiquiri -- an addition that worked rather well in a Mai Tai variation I was served at Eastern Standard. The Campari also donated the sanguine hue that sparked Brian Miller's imagination in the naming process.
The Benjamin Barker Daiquiri greeted my nose with absinthe, lime, and resinous wood notes from the aged rums. The sip presented lime and rich caramel notes from the rum, and the swallow showcased the funkier aspects of the rums and the bitter notes of the Campari. A lingering absinthe note remained on the aftertaste that strangely seemed more menthol than anise. Overall, the richness of the rums and the raw sugar kept the Campari in check rather well.

Monday, February 6, 2012

kon-tini

1 1/2 oz Virgin Island White Rum (El Dorado 3 Year)
1/2 oz Dark Rum pref. Demerara (Lemon Hart 80)
3/4 oz Ginger Liqueur (King's Ginger)
3/4 oz Velvet Falernum
3/4 oz Lime Juice

Shake with ice and strain into a coupe glass. Garnish with a lime twist spiral.

Two Fridays ago, I spotted a rum drink by Jeff Beach Bum Berry that we had passed over in Food & Wines: Cocktails 2010 called the Kon-Tini. The name stems from a reference in Jeff's Sippin' Safari where the introduction explained, "In 1947, Thor Heyerdahl sailed 4,300 miles across the Pacific in the Kon-Tiki, a rickety balsa-log raft. Heyerdahl was a lightweight. Beach Bum Berry's raft, the Kon-Tini, not only travels through oceans... but through time." While Heyerdahl was attempting to prove that pre-Columbian South Americans could have settled Polynesia, Berry's epic journey is to gather recipes inspired by Polynesian food and drink; in a way, their efforts are both valuable historical recreations.
Berry created this drink shortly after Domaine de Canton Ginger Liqueur came out for he felt that it would work well with falernum. Here, the lime and ginger notes filled the aroma and the sip. The swallow showcased the spicier elements of the ginger along with the rum and the falernum's clove. Overall, the Kon-Tini was a tasty spiced riff on the classic Daiquiri.

a two-fold operation

2 oz Genever (Bols)
3/4 oz Calvados (Morin Selection)
1/2 oz Bénédictine
1/2 oz Oloroso Sherry (Lustau)
2 dash Angostura Bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

After the Javanese Crusta, I decided to make the other drink in the Philly.com article where I found the Always Crashing the Same Car. This drink was A Two-Fold Operation created by Phoebe Esmon at Farmers' Cabinet. Phoebe named the drink after a quote by Falstaff in "Henry IV" that did not have to do with political intrigue as I first suspected but with the effect of sherry and the benefits of drink:
A good sherris sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain; dries me there all the foolish and dull and curdy vapours which environ it; makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble fiery and delectable shapes, which, delivered o'er to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of your excellent sherris is, the warming of the blood; which, before cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice; but the sherris warms it and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extreme: it illumineth the face, which as a beacon gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the vital commoners and inland petty spirits muster me all to their captain, the heart, who, great and puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage; and this valour comes of sherris.
For a sherry, she chose an oloroso that is described in the article's text as a sweet style of sherry; we lacked a sweet one and used the Lustau Don Nuño Dry Oloroso we had on hand instead. We also split this drink two ways to make for a more moderate-sized nightcap.
The Two-Fold Operation began with Bols Genever's malty notes along with a hint of apple aroma. Unlike the nose, the sip offered up more of Calvados' apple than the Genever. Next, the swallow began with the sherry's nuttiness that led into the herbalness of the Bénédictine and finished with lingering Genever botanicals. Indeed, the Calvados had a great effect of softening the Genever and making the drink a rather smooth sipper.

Friday, February 3, 2012

javanese crusta

1 1/2 oz Batavia Arrack
1/4 oz Orgeat (BG Reynolds)
1/4 oz Cinnamon Syrup (BG Reynolds)
1/4 oz Lime Juice
2 dash Angostura

Shake with ice and strain into a small wineglass with a sugar-coated rim. Garnish with a wide lime peel looped around the inside of the glass' opening.

For Thursday Drink Night last week on Mixoloseum, the theme was "nuts." For a nut ingredient, I wanted to stay away from the temptation of trying to imitate the glory of the Peanut Malt Flip and instead focused on orgeat syrup. When thinking about orgeat recipes, I thought about the classic Cognac drink, the Japanese, and decided to make it a bit funkier by swapping in Batavia Arrack for the brandy. To add some extra flare, I paired the orgeat with cinnamon syrup as in Ben Sandrof's Cuban Anole and merged the concept with the Crusta. Using the Japanese cocktail name as a base, I dubbed it the Javanese Crusta.
The Javanese Crusta hit the nose with Batavia Arrack, lime oil, and cinnamon aromas. The lime and orgeat on the sip was followed by Batavia Arrack's funkiness spiced with cinnamon syrup and Angostura Bitters on the swallow.

zelda fitzgerald

1 1/2 oz Rittenhouse 100 Rye
1/2 oz Cynar
1/2 oz Aperol
1/2 oz Mirto Liqueur
2 dash Angostura Bitters
2 dash Angostura Orange Bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a rocks glass. Garnish with a flamed lemon twist.

Two Wednesday ago, Andrea and I went down to Craigie on Main for cocktails. For one of my drinks, I asked bartender John Mayer for the Zelda Fitzgerald. The drink was created back in spring of 2010 by then bar manager Carrie Cole, and I remember Andrea enjoying it a lot as I drank my Monmartre. Carrie based this drink off of a cocktail from Tom Schlesinger-Guidelli called the Camino that appeared on Craigie's inaugural cocktail list. From the Camino, Carrie swapped the housemade amber vermouth for Aperol and Cynar, doubled the nonpotable bitters content, and switched citrus garnishes.
The Zelda Fitzgerald began with a lemon oil aroma that was joined by Aperol and Mirto notes. The rye's malt appeared on the sip along with the soft Aperol flavors; the rye's heat competed on the swallow with Mirto and Cynar's bitterness. Interestingly, the combination of flavors on the swallow generated an almost Campari-like note.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

aguamiel

2 oz Blanco Tequila
1/2 oz Cynar
1/2 oz Pineapple Gum Syrup
2 dash Angostura Bitters
1 pinch Salt

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

After the Omar, I decided to make Ryan Fitzgerald's Aguamiel that appeared in Imbibe Magazine. The last drink I had by Ryan was another pineapple-flavored one, the Far East Algonquin. Instead of whiskey, the Aguamiel used tequila along with Cynar; the combination of these two spirits with pineapple had worked well in the past, such as in Sahil Mehta's Alucarda, so I was definitely game to try this one. For a drink name, Ryan chose the Spanish word for honey water that is often used to describe the sweet juice extracted from the agave's piña.
The Aguamiel presented a lemon oil, tequila, and herbal Cynar aroma that led into a pineapple sip. The swallow began with the pairing of tequila and Cynar that combined so wonderfully in drinks like the Lipspin and ended with lingering Angostura spice notes. Moreover, the pinch of salt seemed to cut Cynar's bitterness into more earthy herbal notes.