Tuesday, September 17, 2019

swedish paralysis

1 1/2 oz Malört (Jeppson's Malort)
1 1/2 oz Orange Juice
1 1/2 oz Pineapple Juice
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
1/2 oz Orgeat
1/2 oz Cinnamon Syrup

Whip shake, pour into a Tiki mug, fill with crushed ice, and garnish with an edible flower.

After returning home from work two Tuesdays ago, I decided to riff on a drink instead of finding a new recipe at that hour. Actually, I first had opened up the Smuggler's Cove book in hopes of quickly finding a novel recpe and had spotted their Norwegian Paralysis that I had made prior. Their riff was an aquavit variation on the okelehao-based Polynesian Paralysis, and I had recently tinkered with an Italian amari direction in the Dolce Far Niente. To change things up, I opted for malört as the spirit and switched the demerara syrup to cinnamon to better complement the herbal liqueur, and I dubbed this one the Swedish Paralysis.
The Swedish Paralysis tingled the nose with pineapple, nutty, and cinnamon aromas underneath the floral notes. Next, a creamy orange and lemon sip led into the malört's wormwood-driven botanicals, the orgeat's nutty, and the syrup's cinnamon flavors with a pineapple and cinnamon finish.

Monday, September 16, 2019

cave creek

1 1/4 oz Rock & Rye (Hochstadter's Slow & Low)
1 oz Blended Scotch (Cutty Sark Prohibition)
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
1/2 oz Grenadine
1/4 oz Campari

Shake with ice, strain into a Collins glass with ice, top with soda water (2 oz), and garnish with a lemon twist.
For the cocktail hour two Mondays ago, I perused Carey Jones' Brooklyn Bartender until I came across the Cave Creek. That drink was a Whiskey Collins of sorts crafted by Nate Dumas at The Shanty, and it seemed like a good use for my bottle of Rock & Rye that had been untouched for a bit. Besides the sweetness in that whiskey cordial, the lemon juice was balanced by the Trader Vic-favored duo of Campari and grenadine. Once built, the Cave Creek met the senses with a bright lemon oil aroma over the whiskey notes. Next, a carbonated lemon and berry sip trickled into whiskey with a hint of peat smoke, orange, and berry flavors on the swallow.

Sunday, September 15, 2019

port of innsmouth

2 oz Moderately Aged Rum (Plantation Original Dark)
1 oz Lime Juice
1/2 oz Dry Curaçao (Pierre Ferrand)
1/2 oz Cinnamon Syrup
1/2 oz Don's Spices #2 (1/4 oz Vanilla Syrup + 1/4 oz Hamilton's Allspice Dram)
2 dash Aromatic Bitters (Angostura)

Whip shake, pour into a large snifter glass (Tiki mug), fill with crushed ice, and garnish with mint sprigs.

Two Sundays ago, I turned to the Minimalist Tiki book by Matt Pietrek and Carrie Smith and spotted the Port of Innsmouth by Jason Alexander. As I mentioned in the Innsmouth Fog Cutter #2, Innsmouth is a fictional town in Massachusetts that was invented by horror writer H.P. Lovecraft for a 1936 story. Here, instead of a Fog Cutter, the drink that the Port of Innsmouth reminded me of was the Nui Nui. Jason utilized the curaçao for orange juice swap as I had done in my aperitif riff, the Maui Nui. Once prepared, the Port of Innsmouth donated a dark rum and cinnamon bouquet to the nose. Next, caramel, lime, and orange notes on the sip flowed into rum, cinnamon, allspice, and vanilla flavors on the swallow.

Saturday, September 14, 2019

banana daiquri

1 1/2 oz Gold Puerto Rican Rum (Tommy Bahama Gold)
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1/2 oz Simple Syrup
1/2 Ripe Banana cut into slices
4 oz Crushed Ice

Blend until smooth (blend without ice to break up the banana and blend again with ice) and pour into a cocktail glass. Here, I made 1 1/2 times the recipe and split into two cocktail coupes.
Even before Giffard came out with Banane du Bresil, people made Banana Daiquiris but they used the fruit itself (although crème de banana was around as early as the 1930s as demonstrated in the 1937 Café Royal Cocktail Book with drinks like the Metropine, so who knows?). For a post-work drink two Saturdays ago, I decided to make Mariano Licudine's blender version that he crafted at the Mai-Kai in Fort Lauderdale circa 1971. Since I lacked a cocktail glass that would hold 8-9 ounces of liquid, I decided to make a batch and a half of the recipe from Jeff Berry's Remixed and split it into two coupes. Once prepared, the Banana Daiquiri smiled with a bouquet of banana and a hint of lime. Next, a creamy melonish sip led into rum and banana flavors on the swallow with a lime finish.

Friday, September 13, 2019

patois

1 1/2 oz Rhum Agricole Blanc (Clement)
1 oz Dry Vermouth (Noilly Prat)
1/4 oz Benedictine
1/4 oz Amer Picon (Torani Amer)

Stir with ice, strain into a cocktail coupe, and garnish with an orange twist.

Two Fridays ago after returning home from work, I was in the mood for rhum agricole but was too tired to search for a new recipe. Therefore, I became inspired by the flavors of the Creole Cocktail especially after tinkering with it to make it into a Floridita Daiquiri riff, the Creolita, a few weeks back. Here, I took things in a dry vermouth direction akin to the Georgetown Club that Charles H. Baker Jr. wrote about but with different rum and with the Benedictine-Picon duo instead of falernum. For a name, I dubbed this Creole meets a Martinique Martini the Patois which is "Antillean Creole spoken in Martinique with elements of Carib, English, and African languages."
The Patois awoke the senses with orange oil over grassy funk on the nose. Next, a crisp sip with hints of orange wandered into grassy funk and herbal orange on the swallow. The agricole, Benedictine, and orange liqueur combination did remind me a little of the 'Ti Punch riff, the Homere Punch. I later retried this drink with blanc vermouth, but the extra sweetness seemed to obscure the wonderful flavors of the rhum and other ingredients; perhaps splitting the vermouth might provide a more rounded drink, but I quite enjoyed it as it was the first time.

Thursday, September 12, 2019

kingston soundsystem

1 1/2 oz Overproof Jamaican Rum (Rumfire)
1/2 oz Suze Gentian Liqueur
3/4 oz Soursop Juice
3/4 oz Lime Juice

Shake with ice, strain into a rocks glass with ice (pour into a rocks glass), and garnish with a dehydrated lime (lemon) wheel and a pineapple leaf (mint sprigs).

After work two Thursdays ago, I turned to my compiled list of drinks to make with the tropical juices that I had just bought, and I decided upon the Kingston Soundsystem calling for soursop. The recipe was crafted by Shannon Mustipher and published in her Tiki: Modern Tropical Drinks book, and it was inspired by the Jungle Bird but taken in an opposite direction. Here, an unaged rum was used instead of a dark one, an herbal gentian liqueur instead of bitter Campari, and softer soursop juice instead of pineapple.
This reggae-inspired number greeted the nose with melon blending into rum funk. Next, a melon and lime sip transitioned into funky rum and earthy herbal flavors on the swallow with a pineapple-like finish.

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

dubonnet frappe

1 1/2 oz Dubonnet Rouge
3/4 oz Jamaican Overproof White Rum (Wray & Nephew)
1/2 oz Grenadine
1/4 oz Banana Liqueur (Giffard)
1 tsp Sugar
1 1/2 cup Crushed Ice (12 oz) (*)

Blend until smooth, pour into a coupe glass (16 oz glass), and garnish with freshly grated orange peel.
(*) Not sure how a 16 oz build fits in a coupe (my largest coupe is around 7 oz). A 1/2 cup ice would fit in there but it would not be smooth, and splitting the whole build into two glasses would just be too little alcohol for a bar to serve.

Two Wednesdays ago, I was in the mood for a blender drink, and I remembered one in the PunchDrinks' Dubonnet-sponsored article. That libation was the Dubonnet Frappé crafted by Julia McKinley of Lost Lake in Chicago. Lost Lake has been publishing a variety of frappé recipes including Daiquiri and Harvey Wallbanger ones, and a frappé itself is a drink that is either blended in the Cuban tradition, poured over shaved ice which Trader Vic was fond of, or shaken and served with crushed ice. The Dubonnet Frappé here was McKinley's riff on the Ron Habañero Dubonnet Helado from the Cafe Plaza in Maracaibo, Venezuela, that Charles H. Baker Jr. published in his 1951 The South American Gentleman's Companion. For her riff, she subbed Jamaican rum and banana liqueur for the original's Cuban rum and Maraschino.
The Dubonnet Frappé pleased the nose with orange and fruity aromas. Next, lime and cherry from the Dubonnet and perhaps the grenadine played in the frosty sip, and the swallow gave forth funky rum and banana flavors.

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

midnight stroll

1 1/2 oz Rye Whiskey (Rittenhouse)
3/4 oz Campari
1/2 oz Amaro Ramazzotti
1/4 oz Pierre Ferrand Dry Curaçao
1 dash Peychaud's Bitters

Build in a rocks glass, add ice, stir to mix and chill, and garnish with an orange twist.
Two Tuesdays ago, I was in the mood for a digestif and remembered a drink that I had noted in SeriousEats called the Midnight Stroll. The recipe was a Boulevardier riff invented by Brandon Lockman of Red Star Tavern in Portland, Oregon. The Midnight Stroll took its first step with a bright orange oil aroma over rye and dark orange notes. Next, a caramel orange sip turned the corner into a rye, root beer, and bitter orange swallow. After enjoying this drink, I rediscovered a sparkling wine-lightened recipe that was pretty similar -- Joaquin Simo's Day Bell that he served to me at Tales of the Cocktail in 2010.

Monday, September 9, 2019

atherton

2 oz Appleton White Rum (Uruapan Charanda Blanco)
1 oz Pineapple Juice
3/4 oz Lime Juice
1/2 oz Honey Syrup

Whip shake, pour into a Tiki mug or double Old Fashioned glass (Tiki mug), and fill with crushed ice. Garnish with a pineapple wedge (chocolate mint sprigs).
Two Mondays ago, my copy of Justin Cristaldi's Tiki Triangle arrived; I learned about the book when Justin asked permission a few months ago to put my Nuclear Daiquiri gets the Mai Tai treatment, the Bikini Atoll, in its pages. The recipe that caught my eye as a starting place was the Atherton created by Tim Mayer of the exotica group Waitiki 7 after they played a gig at the Atherton Pavilion in Honolulu in 2008. Once crafted, the Atherton proffered an earthy rum funk and mint bouquet to the nose. Next, lime and honey on the sip played into earthy rum and pineapple on the swallow with a honey-tinged finish.

Sunday, September 8, 2019

royal peacock

1 1/2 oz Rhum Agricole Blanc (Clement)
1/2 oz Mezcal Espadin (Fidencio)
1/2 oz Passion Fruit Liqueur (Ezekiel)
1/4 oz Simple Syrup
3/4 oz Mango Juice
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1 dash Bittermens Hellfire Habanero Shrub (Housemade Hellfire Bitters)

Shake with ice, strain into a Collins glass rimmed with chile salt (cayenne powder + salt), and fill with ice. Garnish with 3 pineapple leaves (3 mint sprigs).

Another tropical juice that I purchased was mango to make a few drinks. The one that I began with was from Shannon Mustipher's Tiki: Modern Tropical Cocktails book called the Royal Peacock. The recipe was created by Dani DeLuna who started the Tiki the Snow Away event each January on Instagram back in 2015, and she based it on the Planteur -- a Martician punch with rhum agricole and guava.
The Royal Peacock greeted the senses with a cayenne pepper aroma from the rim along with mint and tropical fruit notes. Next, lime and papaya strutted on the sip, and the swallow displayed grassy, smoke, passion fruit, and pepper heat flavors.

Saturday, September 7, 2019

soursop sour

1 1/2 oz Gin (Beefeater)
3 oz Soursop Nectar
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
1 oz Simple Syrup (3/4 oz)
2 dash Angostura Bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a double old fashioned glass (Tiki mug with crushed ice). Garnish with an orchid (nasturtiums and a mint sprig).

One of the other tropical juices that I purchased was soursop nectar to make a few recipes. Soursop grows in the Caribbean, and its fruit despite looking like Durian has a pleasant pineapple aroma, strawberry, apple, and citrus flavors, and a creamy texture. The drink that I started with was a 2004 creation by Audrey Saunders at Bemelmans Bar in Manhattan a year before she opened up the Pegu Club. Overall, the Soursop Sour reminded me of a juice-forward Pegu Club given the gin, citrus, and bitters combination, but in the end, it was much more subtle.
The Soursop Sour began with gin's pine coming through underneath the mint and peppery floral garnish aroma. Next, lemon and a creamy melon sip gave way to gin, pineapple, clove, and allspice flavors on the swallow.

Friday, September 6, 2019

maracaibo

2 oz Aged Jamaican Rum (1 1/2 oz Appleton Signature + 1/2 oz Smith & Cross)
1/2 oz Crème de Banane (Giffard)
1/4 oz Allspice Dram (Hamilton's)
3 oz Tamarind Nectar
1/2 oz Lemon Juice

Shake with ice, pour into a Highball glass, and garnish with a lemon wheel.
Two Fridays ago, I procured tamarind nectar to make a Jeff Beachbum Berry recipe that I had spotted in the 2010 edition of the Food & Wine: Cocktails book series. I was curious as to why a drink named perhaps after the Venezuelan city of Maracaibo would call for Jamaican rum, but I was lured in by the tamarind, banana, and allspice flavor backup. Once prepared, the Maracaibo donated a lemon aroma from the garnish along with caramel and rum funk notes from the drink underneath. Next, lemon and tamarind mingled on the sip, and the swallow proffered funky rum and banana flavors with an allspice and tamarind finish.

Thursday, September 5, 2019

bjorn supremacy

1 1/2 oz Overproof Rye Whiskey (Rittenhouse Bonded)
1/2 oz Baska Snaps Malort (Jeppson's)
1/2 oz Briottet Crème de Peche
2 dash Boker's Bitters (Jerry Thomas Decanter)

Shake (stir) with ice and strain into a cocktail coupe.

For a nightcap two Thursdays ago, I delved into Brad Parsons' Amaro book for a recipe. There, I spotted the Bjorn Supremacy by Dennis Gobis of Austin's Roosevelt Room. Dennis described how the name based off of a Robert Ludlum play "seemed fitting for a cocktail accented with a Scandanavian spirit." I was curious to see how malört would play off of peach flavors since it did quite well with apricot ones in the Cutman and Lightning Swords of Death.
The Bjorn Supremacy welcomed the senses with a rye, peach, and clove aroma. Next, malt with a hint of fruit on the sip transitioned to rye, peach, and wormwood-driven herbal flavors on the swallow with a clove, allspice, and celery-like finish.

Wednesday, September 4, 2019

dolce far niente

1 oz Fernet Branca
1 oz Campari
1 1/2 oz Orange Juice
1 1/2 oz Pineapple Juice
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
1/2 oz Orgeat
1/4 oz Simple Syrup
1 pinch Salt (or 5 drop 1:4 saline)

Whip shake, pour into a Collins glass, fill with crushed ice, and garnish with a mint bouquet.
After having made the Polynesian Paralysis, I thought about the Norwegian Paralysis with aquavit, and I wondered if I could make an Italian amari one. For the classic's Okolehao, I substituted a Ferrari, the infamous Fernet-Campari duo, as the base spirit, and selected as the name Dolce Far Niente meaning "sweet doing nothing/sweet idleness" which sounded classier than the Italian Paralysis. Moreover, the name reminded me of some of Ryan Lotz-era No. 9 amaro drinks such as the Riviera di Ponente and Amaro di Cocco. Once prepared, the Dolce Far Niente gave forth a mint, orange, caramel, and menthol aroma to the nose. Next, orange and lemon mingled with Fernet's caramel on the sip, and the swallow let go of minty, menthol, herbal, nutty, and pineapple flavors.

Tuesday, September 3, 2019

once over #2

1 1/2 oz Aperol
3/4 oz Lime Juice
3/4 oz Orgeat
1/2 oz Tequila (Lunazul)
5 leaf Mint

Blend with 1+ cup crushed ice and pour into a Collins glass. Float 1/4 oz mezcal (Fidencio) and garnish with a bouquet of mint.
Two Tuesdays, I was in the mood for something on the lighter side, so I reached for Drew Lazor's Session Cocktails. There, I was drawn in by the Once Over #2 by Ryan Gannon of The Cure in New Orleans; Ryan named the drink that he crafted for an agave spirit popup event after the song "The Once Over Twice" by the Los Angeles punk band X. Once blended, the Once Over #2 welcomed the nose with a mint and smoke aroma. Next, a creamy lime sip led into orange and mint flavors on the swallow with a tequila finish.

Monday, September 2, 2019

polynesian paralysis

3 oz Okolehao or sub Bourbon/Rye (Old Grand-Dad Bonded Bourbon)
3 oz Orange Juice
3 oz Pineapple Juice
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
1 oz Orgeat
1/2 oz Simple Syrup

Blend 10 seconds with 12 oz crushed ice, pour into a Tiki bowl, and garnish with a gardenia (nasturtiums).

Two Mondays ago, I was flipping through Beachbum Berry's Remixed when I came across the Polynesian Paralysis. I had previously skipped over this 1960s recipe for it calls for okolehao; okolehao is Hawaiian moonshine made mostly from the root of the Ti plant and is rather hard to come by this way. Martin Cate must have felt the same way for he crafted the Norwegian Paralysis substituting aquavit as the base. Instead of continuing my wait for a bottle of okolehao from a craft distiller to make its way over, I decided to take Berry's advice and utilize an American whiskey in its place. As I learned from Matt Rowley in his history of okoleao, during the 1960s, instead of going through the effort of digging up these roots and roasting them for the mash, producers flavored whiskey with ti roots or extracts, and this was the era when the Polynesian Paralysis was crafted. True okolehao apparently has molasses, brown sugar, funk, root beer, and earthy flavors, but until I can experience that easily, I decided to give the recipe a go with my house Bourbon.
Berry provided a bit of history of the name via the 1960 book Waikiki Beachnik which described Polynesian Paralysis as, "a screaming desire not to do work, not to do anything that requires any substantial effort either physical or mental." Once prepared, the drink itself donated Bourbon, pineapple, nutty, and orange aromas to the nose. Next, orange and lemon mingled on the sip, and the swallow proffered whiskey, pineapple and nutty flavors that came across with a coconut note from a combination of the orgeat and Bourbon.

Sunday, September 1, 2019

paul mcgee's zombie

1 1/2 oz Flor de Caña Gold Rum (Don Q Añejo)
1 oz Lemon Hart 151 Rum (Plantation OFTD)
1/2 oz Smith & Cross Rum
1/2 oz Appleton Estate 12 Year Rum (Appleton Signature)
1 oz Lime Juice
1 oz Grapefruit Juice
1/2 oz Cinnamon Syrup
1/2 oz Grenadine
1/2 oz Falernum (Velvet)
1 dash Angostura Bitters
1 dash Absinthe (12 drop St. George)

Blend with 1 cup of ice (whip shake), pour into a 22 oz glass (Tiki mug), fill with crushed ice, and garnish with orchids (pea blossoms) and a lime shell with a flaming crouton soaked in absinthe (1/4 oz El Dorado 151).

While researching the 1934 Zombie, I came across a 2013 TastingTable article that provided Paul McGee's riff on the drink that he served at Chicago's Three Dots & A Dash. I always wondered why there was only a teaspoon of grenadine in the classic, and Paul tripled that value as well as doubling the Don's Mix (grapefruit juice and cinnamon syrup) to make for a more fruity mix.
McGee's Zombie filled the nose with caramel, berry, and clove aromas. Next, grapefruit and lime mingled with caramel on the sip, and the swallow donated rum, pomegranate, cinnamon, anise, and other spice flavors on the swallow. Indeed, this Zombie variation was much more fruit forward than the Don the Beachcomber one assuming a real pomegranate grenadine is in play.