Thursday, August 28, 2008


rosita the first

1 oz. tequila
1 oz. Campari
1/2 oz. sweet vermouth
1/2 oz. dry vermouth
1 dash Regan's orange bitters #6

Pour all the ingredients into a large old-fashioned glass filled with crushed ice. Stir and add an orange twist.

rosita the second

1 oz. tequila
1 oz. Campari
1/2 oz. sweet vermouth
1/2 oz. dry vermouth

Stir and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange wheel.

I will now relate to you the tale of the rival Rositas.

Last Tuesday we decided that the evening was too lovely to waste sitting indoors, so we walked over to the Independent in Union Square for cocktails. The Rosita Liam deftly mixed up for me was terribly pretty, with a a strong Campari flavor and barely any tequila flavor. I liked the drink much more after some of the ice had melted, and the tequila recovered somewhat. The (welcome) addition of the bitters gave the drink nice long citrus-tingly finish. Liam was more than happy to share the recipe, which I've related above as Rosita the first.

The next night, I found myself with my friend Julia at Green Street in Central. I spotted the Rosita on the expanded menu and decided to order it to compare with my experience the night before. It certainly was tasty, but I definitely prefer it with the ice and orange bitters.

I tried to do a bit of research on the origin of the Rosita. Once again turned out to be my most trusted source - no big surprise once you learn that the author of the cocktail is Gary Regan. He based the recipe on a 1988 edition of Mr. Boston Official Bartender's Guide. His tinkering upped the tequila to 1 1/2 oz., and he added Angostura bitters instead of his eponymous orange #6.

I think the Rosita the first recipe hews much more closely to Regan's vision. Well done, Indo crew!

Thursday, August 21, 2008


1 oz Bourbon (Maker's Mark was used)
1/2 oz Cointreau
7 dashes Angostura bitters
7 dashes Peychaud's bitters
5 oz Champagne (Cava was used)

Stir first 4 ingredients in a champagne flute, and then add the sparkling wine and stir again. Garnish with an orange twist. From Ted Haigh's Vintage Spirits & Forgotten Cocktails.

Fred's litmus cocktail is the Pegu Club. Mine is the Seelbach, and oh what a convoluted relationship I have with it. I first tasted one in my very own kitchen last fall, made with tender loving care by Fred. I disliked it. Intensely. This baffled me, since I like bitters, bourbon, Cointreau, and champagne, very much. I thought that maybe my tastebuds were being too girlie about the hefty addition of the bitters. So, of course, I felt compelled to try it again at some point in the future, after my tastebuds had been re-calibrated.

Several months later I found myself at Green Street, with Andy behind the bar. It was warm out and I wanted something refreshing and somewhat lighter in alcohol, so I requested a Seelbach. It was absolutely delightful, and exactly what I wanted it to taste like. When I asked Any what the secret was, he told me Misty's recipe backed off to 4 dashes each of the Angostura and Peychaud's. I was a little bit disappointed about this, since I really wanted to like the unmodified recipe.

My third Seelbach was made by Tom at Eastern Standard - a more gifted bartender I couldn't ask for. I disliked it. Intensely. WTF was going on? He used the classic recipe, and it just tasted far too dry and vaguely chemical-y for me. How could 3 (ok 6) leetle dashes make such a big difference?

To confuse things even further, when I went back to Green Street and ordered another one from Andy, he insisted that in fact they use the full 7 dashes of each. Perhaps it's the choice of champagne that skews the taste for me (Green Street uses Segura Viudas Cava, I think). Perhaps his dashes are calibrated differently from Tom's or Fred's. Either way, Andy's Seelbach became the gold standard for me.

So, I thought I kept the note of trepidation out of my voice when I ordered one the other night at Rendezvous. But then Fred spoiled it with an evil little laugh, and the comment that I'm very picky when it comes to this cocktail. I might have looked slightly worried when Scott free-poured the bourbon and the Cointreau, and dammitall if I didn't count the dashes dispensed. He topped it off with cava, gave it a quick stir, and asked me if I wanted the garnish (I politely declined).

My reaction: not bad (did I say that out loud? I can't remember.) Not bad at all. There was the tiniest hint of the chemical flavor I'd noted many times before, but otherwise it was perfectly balanced, and after several more sips I could barely taste that anymore. I think the bartender mistook my hesitation for disappointment, so I was quick to reassure him that I liked it.

I'm so delightfully happy that I can order one now at someplace besides Green Street (sorry Andy, but a girl's got needs).

Wednesday, August 20, 2008


Saffron-infused Gin
Lemon-Cardamom Simple Syrup
Orange Twist

Pour into a rocks glass with ice. Mix. Garnish with an orange twist peeled over the drink.

For my second drink last night at Rendezvous, I asked Scott if he had an idea for my next drink -- something that he had been experimenting with lately. He rather excitedly said that he did, and I told him to make it for me without needing to tell me what it would be. I watched as he took out an unlabeled, yellow liquid-containing bottle and another bottle that I knew was some sort of simple syrup. The former was a saffron-infused gin that Scott had made based on a once lost late 1800's recipe. The rest of the drink he sculpted around some of the other flavors in kulfi, and the end product was quite delightful. The herbal components were rather well balanced such that no one dominated the mouth, and the nose was filled with the pleasant smell of the orange oils. Definitely one of the most innovative old fashions that I have had.

Edit 9/4/08: at the time, the drink entry was referred to as "kulfi-esque gin old fashioned" but I updated it since the drink now appears on the Rendezvous menu.

half sinner, half saint

2 oz Sweet Vermouth
2 oz Dry Vermouth
1 barspoon Pastis
Lemon Twist

In a rocks glass with ice, pour both vermouths and mix. Garnish with a lemon twist peeled over the drink. Float the pastis on top.

Last night, Andrea and I went to Rendezvous in Central Square (Cambridge, MA) where Scott Holliday was bartending. I had vermouths on my mind after reading the SFGate article that Andrea had emailed me earlier in the day, and went with the Half Sinner-Half Saint that I spotted on the cocktail menu. John Gertsen of No. 9 Park was the first to introduce me to this cocktail as a nightcap sometime last fall.

Scott's version used Noilly Pratt dry vermouth, Cinzano sweet vermouth, and Henri Bardouin pastis. He went a lot lighter on the pastis than the CocktailDB recipe suggests which is a 1/2 oz of herbsaint. Perhaps the lesser amount used for this menu item was to make it more accessible; however, there was definitely enough to deliver the anise flavor. The larger than average lemon twist added a wonderful aroma to the glass (Scott later explained last night his focus a lot on the smells of a drink as he creates a cocktail). And visually, the white cloudy louche on the top of the drink from the pastis makes an angelic halo which probably makes up the saint part of this drink. Which leaves to guess that the vermouths are the sinner (especially how many people avoid them like the devil in their drinks)?

Sunday, August 17, 2008

[unnamed, oddly tasty concoction]

(equal parts?)
Amer Picon
Yellow Chartreuse
Rye (Michter's)
a dash or two of mole bitters

(garnished? I don't remember! An hour after having this drink I dropped my phone in the loo so, um, yeah: hi!)

This drink had that wonderful chilling/warm fuzzy-nosed sensation I adore. I was having an upbeat time drinking alone with The American Way of Death Revisited at Eastern Standard last Monday before going off to a club to dance (and to drown my mobile, apparently), and did that thing that I can't decide if Hugh finds interesting or annoying: which is, to demand something new and tasty with little to no criteria given. I'm usually always game for this, as he has never yet steered me wrong (in fact, he possesses excellent drinks-ESP) and in this case, he came up with this lovely little thing. I'm continually amazed at Yellow's ability to not only stand up to other ingredients in a drink, but to blossom so well in concert with them.

marconi wireless

1 3/4oz Applejack
3/4oz sweet vermouth
2 dashes orange bitters

Stir and strain. Recipe from CocktailDB.

Wow, the cool bit about adding authors onto a blog is that one can be totally lazy and/or lame, yet new posts appear. I'll try to be better about it, and stay tuned: I have a trip to SF coming up very soon! (Whee!)

This drink is as tasty as the ingredients would suggest, and I am not sure why I've never listed it here before.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

h. g. wells

1 3/4 oz W. L. Weller's Special Reserve Bourbon
1/2 oz Dry Vermouth
1/4 oz Ricard Pastis

Stirred with ice and strained into a cocktail glass. Garnished with a long lemon peel curl. Proportions from CocktailDB with alcohol choice from the Green Street menu.

Last night, Andrea and I ended up getting a drink at Green Street and I selected this drink off of their big cocktail menu for Andy to make for me. The first obvious tasting note is that this is a rather dry cocktail, which is coming from a drinker who shies away from many sweet cocktails. The more I drank of it, the more the flavors were similar to some of cocktails I have had with the malty Oude Genever style gin rather than with bourbon.

I was intrigued to find the recipe on CocktaiDB and elsewhere not mentioning Weller Bourbon since the name connection was so perfect. Also in my searches, I found a good H. G. Wells quote to give you something to ponder while drinking after a tough day, "The crisis of today is the joke of tomorrow." Cheers.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

the winter hill

The theme for this month’s Mixology Monday (MxMo XXX) is “local flavor” as chosen by the Save the Drinkers blog. The options were to either “gather ingredients that are representative of the culture/geography/tackiness of your respective cities and make a drink with a truly place-based style” or “dig up an old drink that came from your city and revive it! If you can find the original bar, that would be even more interesting.” Since the Boston recipes I was easily able to dig up, such as the Ward 8, were pretty well known and somewhat ubiquitous around here, I decided to go with the first option. My town of Somerville, Massachusetts’ Chase distillery and the neighboring town of Medford’s Lawrence distillery produced some of the country’s finest rums and other liquors up until the Volstead Act and the Eighteenth Amendment closed off these distilleries. I then got the idea of using some of the contemporary local product, namely one of the three vodkas that are made in Somerville – Cossack, Rubinoff, and Ruble. These vodkas are rather scary in that they come in plastic bottles, are often associated with skid rowers, high schoolers, and poor college kids, and have a chemical solvent sort of harshness to them. They are not distilled in my town but “produced and bottled” here. I believe train tanker cars of food-grade grain ethanol (probably from the corn belt) arrive at the “distillery,” the ethanol is diluted onsite to 80 proof, and the product is packaged for distribution. The evil nature of this product excited me in that this vodka probably shared a lot quality-wise with the bathtub hootch that would have been prevalent during Prohibition.

The first liquor store I went to did not have any of the three local brands but tried to sell me a similar New Hampshire brand. I explained that it had to be from Somerville as it was a “gift.” The clerk asked me if it was meant as a joke, and then sent me up the hill to the next level down of townie liquor stores. They did indeed have Cossack and Ruble. I ended up going with the Ruble since they had it in smaller sizes. The 375mL bottle set me back $3.99, and later I regretted not going with the 200mL bottle for $2.19.
My drink’s inspiration was the Irma La Douce cocktail invented by the lovely ladies of Boston's LUPEC, or at least the cucumber puree aspect of it. It was a big hit when we recently made it for guests, one of whom was a major cuke fan. To match the vodka produced a mile and a half from my house, I added cucumber, mint, and nasturtiums gathered from my garden only a few feet from my door.

The Winter Hill
• 1 1/2 oz Somerville Vodka
• 1/2 oz Cucumber Juice
• 1/2 oz Dry Vermouth
• 1/4 oz Gomme (or simple) Syrup
• 2 Nasturtium Flowers
• 1 Sprig of Mint (4-6 leaves)
• 1 dash Angostura Bitters
• 1 dash Orange Bitters
Prepare the cucumber juice by peeling, blending, and straining a ripe cucumber. Muddle the mint, nasturtiums, gomme/simple syrup, and bitters. Add vodka, vermouth, and cucumber juice and shake with ice until painfully cold. Pour through a strainer to remove most of the vegetable matter. Garnish with a nasturtium flower.
I used the sugar part of the gomme syrup to sweeten the drink and the gum arabic part to reduce the off flavors. And I used the nasturtiums with their pepperiness in attempt to compliment the chemical spiciness of the vodka. My other ingredient note was that the dry vermouth was Noilly Prat.

The end result had a rather delightful peppery-flowery vegetableness to it that completely masked the chemical solvent burn of the Ruble vodka [1]. Andrea [2] likened it to a Bloody Mary in a drink-at-brunch sort of way. Overall, the drink would be a lot tastier if made with Hendrick’s or Plymouth gin, but this wasn’t the point of the exercise. Also, a half ounce of lemon juice (and upping the simple syrup to a half ounce) would be a delightful variant as well as adding club soda and ice to make it a tall drink. I opted out of the lemons since they did not agree in my mind with the local theme (bitters, vermouth, and gomme syrup did seem like fair game though).

Cheers from Somerville, MA!

[1] Well until the drink warmed up to room temperature and the burn from booze increased to uncomfortable proportions. The last half ounce got dumped. Maybe passing it through a Brita filter first would have helped...

[2] Andrea just added a comment to this post where she said, "I'll add a few comments about the Winter Hill that might put it in cultural context. Over the past 10 or so years, Somerville, and our neighborhood of Winter Hill in particular, has experienced a great deal of gentrification. When I began grad school about 15+ years ago, the city was referred to as "Slummerville" by the college-types, and provided a source of cheap rents for said students (me being one of them for a time). Somerville's longer-term residents were primarily from the working classes, who originally worked in the industries that dominated the city prior to the WWII.

"As the financial services industry boomed in Boston, real estate prices in Boston proper and its nearby communities began to rise, and gentrification of previously undesirable cities with a short commute time to Boston commenced. In Somerville, this process was accelerated once the Davis T-stop opened in 1984, which provided 15 minute rapid transit service into the heart of Boston. With skyrocketing property values, increasing numbers of the older guard either sold at a profit or dug in to withstand the yuppy storm and complain about high property taxes.

"Today Somerville has the distinction of being one of the most densely populated cities in the US, and a little over half of its residents are unmarried. Somerville also boasts that it is second only to New York in artists per capita. Close quarters, and an increasingly youthful and sophisticated culture, have created a lot of friction between old guard and new school. Nonetheless, residents from all backgrounds are trying to pull together to create a community like no other, where hip artists passionately embrace Neapolitan Christmas displays, and fans of the artisan food movement cherish the knowledge of the city's old world cooks. The 'Ville is also home to a sizable proportion of the Boston area's finest craft bartenders, and no doubt the crusty old-timers would recognize the classic cocktails that these bartenders are reviving.

"The Winter Hill cocktail nicely embodies this spirit. Urban vegetable gardens abound in the yards (front, back, side, you name it) of old and new residents alike. No-one would mistake a bottle of Ruble for an handcrafted vodka, but it's likely been sampled by many 'Villens. I think we all value the scrappy history of our quirky city; so I'll drink to that!"

Thursday, August 7, 2008

family jewels

1 part rye
1 part green chartreuse
1 part sweet vermouth
1 dash orange bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

As already mentioned in this blog, Fred and I decided to hit Rendezvous the other evening. This was my second drink there.

This cocktail is a variation of the classic Bijou cocktail, much beloved by classic cocktail gurus everywhere. Alas, the Bijou is not beloved by me[1]. But this drink, this I like, which shouldn't surprise me. Rye and chartreuse work well for me in general, as the flavor of the rye suppresses the pine and elevates the anise (and angelica? something subtly bitter-green) notes in the chartreuse.

The notes I had in my iPhone for this drink: Family Jewel, Bijou variant, 1:1:1 proportions, Old Overholt, Green C, Dry noilly peat (sic) [2].

These notes, they lie. The vermouth used was in fact sweet vermouth (Cinzano), and whether my omission was intentional or not, the "s" on the end of the cocktail's name really should be there, as Scott (as the drink's auteur) pointed out to me in a subsequent email.

I had made a request for some sort of rye or bourbon drink, following up my delicious George Washington Smash. "Green Chartreuse?" Why, yes, lovely, just as long as it doesn't also have gin. "I've got just the thing."

The dizzy cocktail glass he proudly placed before me was filled[3] with a fragrant concoction with a slightly heavy texture. In stark contrast to the fruit and foliage that adorned my last drink[4], it was completely bare. My initial impression was that it was certainly less sweet than the smash. A larger sample tasted pleasantly bitter, with toasted almond stitching together all the other flavors. In far too short a time (though in fact it must have been the better part of an hour), my glass was empty. I was tempted to order another made with a different rye, but it was regrettably past closing time.

I'm already looking forward to going back.

post-script: I made this again at home using Wild Turkey rye and, quite frankly, the spicier rye ruined it. Scott's intuition is far better than mine (no surprise).

post-post script: Actually, it was I who ruined it. This is definitely a cocktail that benefits from the addition of the melt water from the ice. I didn't let the shaker sit for quite long enough before decanting the first time I made it. I corrected this on a subsequent preparation, and the green chartreuse definitely rose to the Turkey's challenge.

[1] The juniper bite of gin tends to pull out the pine-y flavor in chartreuse, and it tastes like I'm drinking Lestoil.
[2] Yes, I'm sure I typed prat, but the iPhone's damned auto-correct feature struck again.
[3] When I say filled, I'm not joking. When we got home, I had Fred measure out how much the glass holds - approximately 7 1/2 oz. My cocktail could very well have been 6 oz. of booze along with an ounce of melted ice. I obviously did not drive home after consuming it.
I am, in general, anti-garnish (and don't get me started on the hatred that burns inside me for the flamed orange peel). However, a smash by definition requires fruit and/or greenery, so I approve in this case. Indeed, I devoured every last bit of cherry/mint/lemon in the drink.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008


2 oz applejack
1 oz dry vermouth
1/2 oz St. Germain
1 dash Peychaud's bitters
1 dash orange bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange peel.

Last night after going to the Hendrick's Beantown Bartender Battle at Green Street, we stopped by Rendezvous to sample the cocktail wizardry of Scott Holliday at his new bar (Scott recently returned to Boston after a sojourn up north). The cocktail I went with, the Boutonnière, was a more complex version of the delightful Marconi Wireless(*) but without the richness of the sweet vermouth. CocktailDB tells me that Klondike Cocktail would be the closest cocktail (equal parts applejack, dry vermouth, orange bitters), and add in some elderflower liqueur and Peychaud's bitters. The addition of the extra flavors in the bitters and St. Germain definitely transformed the drink into something rather intriguing.

Also rather noteworthy was the glass of housemade ginger beer afterwards.

(*) So delightful, our newest cat is named Marconi after the cocktail.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

boker's bitters

I recently became interested in making my own cocktail bitters in part to revive some old recipes I had been finding and in part to try my hand at creating some new ones. To do the latter, I wanted to try some of the former first.

Besides a few recipes in Imbibe, there were three good online resources that I found. Jamie Boudreau's How to Make Bitters post was the first I found and it gave the general breakdown of the bittering agent, the flavor, and the solvent besides giving a few recipes. The Art of Drink's bitters recipes collection was the next one that I discovered. I used the wide variety of bitters to plan out my botanicals order. And the last was a recent article I found in the
blog although I had already started my bitters project by the time I discovered this resource.

I started with Boker's Bitters which was in Boudreau's, Art of Drink, and Imbibe. The recipe in Imbibe gave a tip on halving the water added at the end to convert these old stomach bitters (meant to be drunk straight) to cocktail bitters (meant to be added dash-wise). I had ordered a bunch of herbs from the Hippies (read a livejournal post I wrote about it) to make this recipe and others, and a digital scale from eBay.
Here's my scaled down version of the recipe:
Boker's Bitters
• 5.6 grams Quassia
• 5.6 grams Calamus Root
• 5.6 grams Catechu (Betel Nut)
• 3.8 grams Cardamom Pods
• 7.5 grams Dried Orange Peel
Add 8 oz Bacardi 151. Stir daily. Let infuse for 10-14 days. Filter through a coffee filter. Rinse the botanicals twice with 8 oz of water and filter. Total volume is 24 oz. Bottle.
After the 12 days of soaking and two water rinses, these herbs looked rather pale like soggy wood chips instead of this bounty of color.

After bottling it, it was time to try it in a cocktail. CocktailDB had 5 recipes using Boker's. This is the one that Andrea and I made last night:
Submarine Cocktail
• 1 1/2 oz Gin
• 1/2 oz Red Dubonnet
• 1/2 oz Dry Vermouth
• 1 dash Boker's Bitters
Stir in a mixing glass with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.
The bitters did not disappoint. A very aromatic and flavorful one that has some similarities to Fee's Whiskey Barrel Aged Bitters. It worked rather well in a Manhattan when I was monitoring the bitters progress after 4-5 days, and took the drink to a new level as compared to Angostura.
The finished product. I used 100 mL European-style dropper bottles bought from a company John Gertsen recommended called The total yield was 6 bottles (the bottles easily hold over 100 mL).

Saturday, August 2, 2008

déjà vu in dehli

2 oz Old Monk XXX Rum
1/2 oz St. Germain
1/2 oz Lime Juice
2 dash Bittermens Tiki Bitters

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

Last night was my 4th night of cocktails (Tuesday was having friends over, Wednesday was a friend's birthday at the B-side, Thursday was my birthday that ended up at No. 9) where we were celebrating the impending nuptials of some friends at Green Street. Tiredness from the long week of work made me seek out this pleasant sounding cocktail on Green Street's menu which I had not tried before. I am generally not a big fan of the tiki genre but I gave this one a go.

The Old Munk rum is a dark rum infused with vanilla that we own at home after wanting to make a Maharaja's Revenge (2 oz Old Munk, 1 oz apricot brandy, 3/4 oz fresh lime juice, lime wheel garnish) from LUPEC's delightful Little Black Book of Cocktails via Brother Cleve. I am not sure if the Déjà Vu uses the same proportions as that but in essence, it is the same drink after swapping St. Germain for Rothman and Winter Apricot Liqueur.

One difference of course is that the Déjà Vu uses Bittermens Bitters! Instead of trying to describe them, I will just copy and paste from the BB's website:

‘Elemakule Tiki Cocktail Bitters - Winter 2008

Brian Miller - One of the fantastic bartenders Death and Company and tiki enthusiast asked if we ever considered making a Falernum - a classic west indian spiced cordial. Though we’re not doing cordials, we did wonder if it’s possible to actually create a bitter designed with tiki cocktails in mind. It’s a departure from our normal bitters in many ways: the recipe has been simplified in order to make it easy to make at a bar with limited facilities, we’ve developed a new set of bittering agents that play much better tiki drinks and we’ve included a little fresh fruit into the mix.
Primary Flavors: Allspice, Star Anise, Cardamom and Citrus

While my cocktail could have used an extra dash or two of these bitters, they did add a great component to the drink.

Friday, August 1, 2008

pegu club

2 oz gin
1 oz orange liqueur
1/2 oz lime juice
2 dashes Angostura

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

Matt made me this as my first drink last night at No. 9 Park. He used Plymouth gin and Ben's housemade orange liqueur (80 oranges' peels mixed with grain neutral spirits). The fact that their orange liqueur was unsweetened (or not sweetened much) made this drink delightfully dry. Some versions of the drink use these proportions except use Cointreau or curacao which makes the drink taste wrong for me. Also, some recipes use orange bitters instead of or in addition to the Angostura; combined is fine but alone the orange bitters lack the strength to steer the drink the proper direction.

Yes, I am pretty particular about the Pegu since it was the first gin cocktail that won me over to the spirit. The ratio I use at home is 1 1/2 oz gin (often Bombay), 1/2 oz Cointreau, 1/2 oz lime juice, and a dash of Angostura; shake until painfully cold. With this ratio, the citrus and the bitters mix to make the cocktail taste like grapefruit juice.

The rich history of the drink I found when researching this drink back in 2006 was this one, and I just found a decent article in the Wall Street Journal on it (with yet a different recipe).

rum copenhagen

2 oz rum
2 oz apricot liqueur
3/4 oz Gammeldansk
2 dashes orange blossom water
topped off with orange peel oils (no garnish)

Stirred with ice and strained into a cocktail glass. Add orange peel oil to top of cocktail.

Last night after my birthday dinner at Ten Tables, Andrea took me to No. 9 Park. My second cocktail of the night was a variant of their Copenhagen which Ben and Matt were working out that night. They used a Venezuelan rum that really worked well with all of the flavors and was not overly sweet. The rum set a very different tone to the drink than Fighting Cock bourbon does, but it was complex enough to do the job. The apricot liqueur was the same Rothman and Winter one that is in their normal Copenhagen; however, it did not taste like there was too much apricot like the bourbon version (*). Ben's touch to Matt's variant was the orange blossom water and orange oil which added a very pleasant nose feel to the drink.

(*) The original Copenhagen, for my taste buds, could have the apricot halved and the Gameldansk doubled to a 2 oz bourbon 1 oz apricot 1 1/2 oz Gameldansk ratio. The concept seemed to intrigue Ben last night.