chocolate stinger (audrey saunders)

2 oz Pierre Ferrand Ambre Cognac (Courvoisier VS)
1/4 oz Marie Brizard Crème de Menthe (Tempus Fugit)
1/4 oz Marie Brizard Crème de Cacao (Bols White)
1 tsp Kahula
1 dash Bittermens Mole Bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a coupe or an old fashioned glass with ice.

Two Saturdays ago, I decided to make a recipe that I found in Pierre Ferrand's 2016 NYC Cocktail Book called the Chocolate Stinger that was created, or better stated improved upon, by Audrey Saunders at the Pegu Club in Manhattan. The Stinger is a classic first published in 1914 that dates back to the 1890s of shaken instead of stirred Cognac and crème de menthe. It is also a drink that I have a distinct memory of from Russell House Tavern. While we did put it on the menu in 2014, in 2013, I recall two troublesome townie women who sat at my bar one early afternoon and one of them ordered a Stinger. I recall shaking it, serving it on crushed ice, and garnishing with a mint sprig (*). She was appalled at the presentation and asked for it to be strained. Luckily, when it was later on the menu, my bar manager was smart enough to serve it up. I think that bar guest would be appalled by this variation of a Stinger as well given the excess flavors and lower mint quotient than expected. However, Audrey's recipe was tempting for crème de menthe and cacao work well together as I learned in Death & Co.'s Midnight Mountain and that I utilized in my Year of the Dragon, and minty Fernet works amazingly with crème de cacao. One Instagram friend commented that the Chocolate Stinger reminded them of the After Eight which is crème de menthe with either chocolate or coffee liqueur depending on the recipe with either vodka or Bailey's as the third ingredient; here, all three liqueurs are present, so that observation was rather on point. It turns out that there is a mid-century recipe known as the Chocolate Stinger that is simply the two crème liqueurs with or without vodka shaken together. Given Audrey Saunders' high level of perfecting drinks, it was a good reason to shake up (instead of stir) another straight spirits recipe. In the glass, Audrey's Chocolate Stinger gave forth brandy and mint aromas. Next, mint and roast notes on the sip developed into Cognac, chocolate, and mint flavors on the swallow with coffee and mint on the finish.

(*) Postnote 7/13/26: While reading Toby Maloney's The Classic Cocktail Sessions, he pointed out that Dale DeGroff serves his Stingers in a rocks glass with crushed ice and garnished with a mint sprig; however, both the original and updated recipes in Dale's The Craft of the Cocktail book leave out the mint garnish. Difford's Guide includes the mint garnish in his preferred recipe but offers up older recipes served in a cocktail glass including Straub's 1913 recipe that includes a lemon peel in a regal shake.

love in the time of covid

1 1/2 oz Suntory Toki Japanese Whisky
1 oz Lillet Blanc (Cocchi Americano)
1/4 oz Giffard Apricot Liqueur (Rothman & Winter)
1/4 oz Giffard Menthe de Pastille (Tempus Fugit Crème de Menthe)
2 dash Peychaud's Bitters

Stir with ice, strain into a cocktail (coupe) glass, and garnish with a lemon twist. Two Mondays ago, I selected my copy of Neil Ratliff's 2022 Seattle Cocktails book for the night's libation. There, I was lured in by Love in the Time of Covid at The Doctor's Office. Bar director Keith Waldbauer described how it was created as a one-off for a charity during lockdown, and it was so successful that it became the bar's first original on a menu of classics. The concept of apricot and mint accents was something that I was familiar with from the Leap Frog and that I utilized in my Derby Julep, so I was curious to see how it would work here with Japanese whisky. Once this updated Gabriel García Márquez tribute drink was mixed, lemon, apricot, and mint aromas jumped out to the nose. Next, pear and grapefruit notes on the sip broadened into whisky, grapefruit, apricot, and mint flavors on the swallow. As the drink warmed up, the Peychaud's cherry and anise aspects started to come out on the back palate.

the manticore

2 oz Beefeater Gin
1/4 oz Velvet Falernum
1 tsp Giffard Menthe Pastille (Tempus Fugit Crème de Menthe)
1 tsp Cinnamon Syrup
1 1/2 dash Peychaud's Bitters

Stir with ice, strain into a double old fashioned glass with a large ice cube, and garnish with lemon oil from a twist.Two Sundays ago, I reached for Death & Co.'s Welcome Home book, and there I spied the Manticore by Scott Teague circa 2014. The concept of a spiced and minty gin Old Fashioned of sorts with the only other gin Old Fashioned popping into my head being Phil Ward's Elder Fashion made me curious enough to mix one up for myself. Once prepared, the Manticore welcomed the nose with lemon aromas from the twist plus hint of mint and cinnamon. Next, a semi-sweet sip revealed pine, mint, and cinnamon flavors on the swallow with an anise finish.

absinthe suissesse

1 oz Absinthe Verte (Pernod Absinthe)
1/4 oz Orgeat
1 oz Heavy Cream (Trader Joe's Vegan)
1 Egg White
1/4 oz Crème de Menthe (as float) (Tempus Fugit)

Shake absinthe, orgeat, and egg white without ice. Add cream and ice and shake again. Strain into a coupe, float crème de menthe, and garnish with freshly grated nutmeg.Two Saturdays ago, I spotted a recipe for an Absinthe Suissesse on PunchDrinks that made me realize that I had never written one up here despite riffing on it for an absinthe competition in the Mai Tai Suissesse mashup given the common orgeat component. This recipe was crafted by Kirk Estinopal at Cure in New Orleans, and it was surprisingly different from the one in Neal Bodenheimer's Cure: New Orleans Drinks and How to Mix'Em. The book version has a slightly heavier pour of absinthe and simple syrup instead of orgeat, and I decided to use the article's recipe for orgeat in my mind has seemed like an important ingredient after reading multiple recipes throughout the years. Using Kirk's recipe, the Absinthe Suissesse donated a minty, wood spice, nutty, and licorice aroma to the senses. Next, a creamy sip subsided into licorice, nutty, and star anise flavors on the swallow. My guess is that much of the crème de menthe float sank for the last few swallows were rather minty.

polar bear

1 1/2 oz Mezcal (Del Maguey Vida)
3/4 oz Dolin Blanc Vermouth
1/2 oz Tempus Fugit Crème de Menthe
6 drop Angelica Tincture (2-3 dash Celery Bitters (Bitter Truth) as a recommended sub)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail coupe.Two Thursdays ago, I reached for Robert Simonson's Mezcal & Tequila Cocktails book and became curious about the Polar Bear. I had skipped over this recipe before, but after having written up the Stinger, I was interested in seeing what a mezcal twist crafted by the Bon Vivants at Trick Dog in 2013 would be like. The only other time I have had tequila or mezcal with crème de menthe was the Charo's Kick. Here, the Polar Bear swiped at the nose with roasted vegetal, smoke, and herbal aromas. Next, white wine with an herbal note on the sip flowed into smoky mezcal and mint on the swallow and a smoke-tinged finish.

half past midnight

2 oz Cognac (Pierre Ferrand 1840)
1/2 oz Fernet Branca
1/2 oz Crème de Menthe (Tempus Fugit)

Build in an old fashioned glass, add ice, stir to mix and chill, and garnish with a lemon twist.Two Wednesdays ago, I opened up the Bartender's Choice app and came across the Half Past Midnight. Despite it sounding like a Chris Hannah drink name, the recipe was crafted by Sam Ross at Attaboy in 2015, and it came across like a more approachable Corpse Reviver No. 3. In the glass, the Half Past Midnight offered up a lemon, caramel, and mint aroma. Next, the caramel continued into the sip where it was chased by Cognac, mint, and menthol flavors on the swallow.

stinger

1/2 jigger Brandy (2 1/4 oz Pierre Ferrand 1840 Cognac)
1/2 jigger Crème de Menthe (Tempus Fugit)
1 peel Lemon

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

After writing up the Flashbang, it dawned on me that I have never written up the classic Stinger despite making variations such as the Midnight Stinger. I turned to the earliest recipe that I have in my library under that name which is from Jacques Straub's 1914 book Drinks. I adapted the equal parts recipe to the 3:1 ratio that we utilized when we had the Stinger on the menu at Russell House Tavern in 2014 (not including the lemon peel in the shake that Straub preferred). As for the history, I turned to The Oxford Companion to Cocktails & Spirits where it was described as "the king of after-dinner cocktails" that gained popularity through millionaire playboy Reginald Vanderbuilt's making them for his friends. The combination first appeared in 1890 but won out with the catchy here name perhaps referring to a quick jab to the head in boxing in 1913; that earliest reference was in John Applegreen's book Applegreen's Bar Book: Or how to Mix Drinks. The Stinger is unusual for it is one of the few straight spirits recipes that is shaken to induce a greater chill and dilution. Its popularity went from the clubmen and debutantes at the beginning of the century to World War II fighter pilots during the 1940s before drifting out of favor in the 1970s.Once prepared, the Stinger came at the nose with a Cognac, lemon, and mint aroma. Next, a light caramel sip set up a Cognac and mint swallow with a lemony finish. I commented on my Instagram that the lemon peel in the shake was indeed a nice touch by providing some extra depth and dimension.

corpse reviver #3

1 oz Cognac (Pierre Ferrand Ambre)
1 oz Fernet Branca
1 oz Crème de Menthe (Marie Brizard White)

Stir with ice and strain into a Nick & Nora glass.

Two Wednesdays ago, I was looking through the pages of the "Drinks of Drink" cocktail bible and became curious about the Corpse Reviver #3 subtitled the "Savoy Corpse." I have never seen the Corpse Reviver #3 in the Savoy Cocktail Book so I was definitely curious. I had previously skipped over this recipe in our database until I recently made the Apotheke which was essentially a sweet vermouth for Cognac version of this one. My curiosity led me down internet rabbit holes until I uncovered that it was crafted at the Savoy's American Bar around 20 years after the publication of the book which contained the more famous versions one and two. Wikipedia declared that, "Salvatore Calabrese states in his book Classic Cocktails that it was created by Johnny Johnson of the Savoy circa 1948, and lists it as a Corpse Reviver #3. Others believe it was invented later in 1954 by Joe Gilmore, also of the Savoy."With the mystery solved, it was time to experience the Savoy's wonder. Here, it began with a minty aroma that led into a caramel-tinged sip from the Fernet Branca and perhaps the Cognac as well. Finally, the swallow wrapped things up with Cognac, minty, and menthol flavors. Overall, I would probably find myself drinking this more frequently after a big meal than first thing in the morning after a raging evening.

apotheke

1 oz Fernet Branca
1 oz White Crème de Menthe (Tempus Fugit)
1 oz Cocchi Sweet Vermouth

Stir with ice, strain into a cocktail glass, and garnish with a cherry.Two Saturdays ago, I got home from work and discovered that Andrea had gotten me takeout from Veggie Galaxy. After eating way too much, I needed something to settle the stomach before I went to bed, so I remembered that there was an interesting Fernet drink from the A Spot at the Bar book. The recipe was the Apotheke that the authors claimed to have sourced from the 1919 Henry's ABC of Mixing Cocktails book and came across like a Corpse Reviver #3 with sweet vermouth instead of brandy; I was not able to find the recipe in the 1923 2nd edition on EUVS though, but it was in my later edition with supplemental material added in 1986 (1996 printing). Once prepared, the Apotheke approached the nose with a minty and menthol aroma. Next, caramel and grape notes on the sip shifted toward mint and menthol flavors on the swallow.

lewiston

1/4 wineglass Bacardi (2 oz Santa Teresa Claro)
1 dash Lime Juice (3/4 oz)
2 dash Grenadine (1/2 oz)
2 dash Green Crème de Menthe (1/4 oz Tempus Fugit White)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass; I garnished with a mint leaf.
Two Sundays ago, I ventured into the Pioneers of Mixing at Elite Bars: 1903-1933 book and spotted the Lewiston that came across as a Bacardi Cocktail with the addition of crème de menthe. Once prepared, the Lewiston conjured a berry and mint nose. Next, lime and berry notes mingled on the sip, and the swallow proffered rum and pomegranate flavors with a mint finish.

charo's kick

1 1/2 oz Blanco Tequila (Lunazul)
1/2 oz Mezcal (Fidencio)
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
3/4 oz Orgeat
2 bsp Crème de Menthe (1/4 oz Tempus Fugit)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail coupe; I later found a recipe that included a lemon twist and I feel that a floated mint leaf would not be out of place here.

Two Sundays ago, I decided to make a recipe that I had noted previously on Imbibe Magazine called the Charo's Kick. The recipe published in 2015 was attributed to Justin Lane Briggs at Faro in Brooklyn shortly after the restaurant opened, and it seemed to be the agave take of Cameron's Kick from Harry MacElhone's 1922 Harry's ABCs of Mixing Cocktails with the addition of crème de menthe. After making the drink, I did a little research and uncovered an entry in the Kindred Cocktails database that declared that it had been invented by Anthony Schmidt in 2010 at the Noble Experiment in San Diego without the minty element. A discussion ensued, and I soon found a 2015 article in the Village Voice where Briggs gave credit to Schmidt for his take on the Cameron's Kick. Moreover, Briggs was rather impressed by the result, tinkered, and found that crème de menthe added another layer of complexity that worked with all the ingredients; he declared, "There's nothing really more refreshing than mint and citrus together. If I ever wonder what to make someone and I have a drink that combines those two, I can make that and they'll be happy."
The Charo's Kick with the menthe welcomed the nose with a nutty, lemon, and smoke aroma with a hint of mint. Next, a creamy and lemon sip swung into a smoky agave and earthy swallow with a light minty finish.

memphis

2/3 Rye (1 1/2 oz Old Overholt)
1/3 Italian Vermouth (3/4 oz Cocchi Sweet)
1 dash Crème de Menthe (1/4 oz Tempus Fugit)
1 dash Picon Bitters (1/4 oz Torani Amer)

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.
Two Thursdays ago, I selected Pioneers of Mixing at Elite Bars: 1903-1933 and spotted the Memphis in the American whiskey section. The Memphis appeared like a Liberal with the rye, vermouth, and Picon combination but with an added element of crème de menthe. Once prepared, the liqueurs' mint and orange aromas greeted the senses. Next, malt and grape on the sip led into rye, mint, and bitter orange on the swallow. Overall, perhaps a bit more Picon and less menthe would have made for a more enjoyable tipple for me.

cuban prince

2 oz White Rum (Privateer Silver)
1 oz Noilly Prat Dry Vermouth
1/3 oz Tempus Fugit Crème de Menthe
1 dash Regan's Orange Bitters (Angostura Orange)

Stir with ice, strain into a cocktail glass (cocktail coupe), and garnish with a lemon twist.

Two Tuesdays ago, I reached for Frank Caiafa's 2016 The Old Waldorf Astoria Bar Book and spotted the recipe for the Prince Henry. That gin drink was a tribute to Germany's Prince Henry who stayed at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in 1902; however, I was drawn to the rum riff that followed that recipe called the Cuban Prince. The drink reminded me of the Georgetown Club Cocktail, but instead of falernum, the Cuban Prince called for crème de menthe and orange bitters.
The Cuban Prince evoked a lemon, white rum, and mint nose. Next, an off-dry white wine sip conjured a rum, minty, and herbal swallow with an orange finish.

black magic

1 1/2 oz Dark Jamaican Rum (1 1/4 oz Coruba + 1/4 oz Smith & Cross)
1/2 oz Cognac (Camus VS)
1 tsp White Crème de Menthe (Tempus Fugit)
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1/2 oz Papaya Nectar

Shake with ice, strain into a tall glass (Tiki mug), and fill with crushed ice. Garnish with a pineapple chunk (chocolate mint sprigs).
Two Fridays ago, I ventured back to the Zombie Horde book to make the other papaya nectar-containing drink, the Black Magic. This was not the better known coffee-tinged one from the Mai-Kai but an earlier one from the Village Vanguard jazz club in Manhattan. The recipe itself dates back to 1941 when it was published in the New York Daily News (which pre-dates the Mai-Kai opening in 1952). Their Zombie riff is noteworthy for it was perhaps the earliest to contain crème de menthe. Once prepared, the Black Magic greeted the nose with a caramel, rum funk, and herbal bouquet under the chocolate mint garnish's aroma. Next, lime, caramel, and papaya notes on the sip transformed into funky rum and mint flavors on the swallow.

daiquiri menta

2 oz White Rum (Privateer Silver)
3/4 oz Lime Juice
2 tsp Sugar (Florida Crystals)
1/4 oz Crème de Menthe (Tempus Fugit)
5-6 leaf Mint
10 oz Crushed Ice

Combine all but the rum in a blender and blend on low. Add rum, blend until smooth, and pour into a large Martini glass or go-cup (stemmed water glass). Garnish with a mint sprig.

Two Sundays ago for Andrea's birthday, she requested a blender drink to christen our new Vitamix blender. Since I ran out of oranges and could not make the Pearl Diver that night, I remembered a blender drink that I had spotted in Punch called the Daiquiri Menta. The recipe was crafted by Nick Detrich and Chris Hannah at their new Cuban-inspired spot, Manolito in New Orleans, and the blending with mint leaves reminded me of the Missionary's Downfall.
Once prepared, the Daiquiri Menta was all about the mint on the nose. Next, lime on the sip slid into rum and more mint on the swallow with a herbal chlorophyll bitterness on the finish.

raleigh hotel

2/3 Bourbon (1 1/2 oz Old Grand-Dad Bonded)
1/3 French Vermouth (3/4 oz Noilly Prat Dry)
1 dash Crème de Menthe (1/4 oz Tempus Fugit)
1 dash Picon (1/4 oz Torani Amer)
1 dash Orange Bitters (Regan's)

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

Two Saturdays ago, I honed my search for the evening's nightcap to the Pioneers of Mixing at Elite Bars: 1903-1933 book. There, I spotted the the Raleigh Hotel that reminded me a little of a Brooklyn in structure. The cocktail could be named after the hotel in Washington, D.C., that was well known for serving superb Gin Rickeys and Mint Juleps on its great mahogany bar during the book's era. Unfortunately, the hotel was razed, and the book provided no information about the drink name's inspiration.
Like a Mint Julep, the Raleigh Hotel greeted the senses with a mint and Bourbon aroma. Next, malt and white grape on the sip led into whiskey and dark orange flavors on the swallow with a minty and barrel-aged noted finish.

year of the dragon

3/4 oz Cynar
3/4 oz Benedictine
1 oz Bonal Gentiane-Quina (Byrrh would also work well here)
1/4 oz Crème de Menthe (Tempus Fugit)
1/4 oz Crème de Cacao (Tempus Fugit)

Stir with ice, strain into an old fashioned glass with a large ice cube, and garnish with a lemon twist.

Two Wednesdays ago, I was flipping through the Death & Co. Cocktail Book when I spotted the Midnight Mountain. I soon remembered that I had made the drink back in June, but I was so taken by the combination that I was inspired to riff on it. The Midnight Mountain has a base of Amaro Nardini which to me displays great chocolate and mint notes in the mix. To replace it, I split that volume between Benedictine which also displays those two flavors and Cynar which has some dark and minty notes as well. Moreover, instead of a sweet vermouth, I swapped in Bonal Quinquina for quinine and chocolate are a natural pairing that was strong enough to have saved Barolo Chinato wine from extinction. Since Midnight Mountain is a land in the Year of the Dragon video game, I dubbed this variation on the game itself.
With four liqueurs and one fortified wine, the Year of the Dragon appears like an oddity on paper, but it made for a solid nightcap. In the glass, it offered up lemon and mint aromas to the nose that preceded a caramel and grape sip. Next, Cynar's funky vegetal flavors led into mint and chocolate notes on the swallow with a quinine-accented finish.

fu manchu

1/2 oz Lime Juice (3/4 oz)
1 tsp Green Crème de Menthe (1/4 oz Tempus Fugit White + 1 drop green food coloring)
1 tsp Simple Syrup (1/4 oz)
1 tsp Orange Curacao (3/8 oz Cointreau)
1/2 tsp Triple Sec (combined with above)
1 oz Light Rum (1 1/2 oz Privateer Tres Aromatique Overproof White Rum)

Shake with ice, strain into a Sour glass (snifter), fill with ice, and garnish with a lime wedge speared to a green cocktail cherry (mint sprigs).

Sunday night after my bar shift, I decided to make a recipe that I had read about that morning as I made my way cover to cover through Beachbum Berry's Remixed called the Fu Manchu. The drink was created by Sax Rohmer who featured the character Fu Manchu as a villain in his books, and he wanted a green drink to capture the energy. While Rohmer crafted many version, Berry found that this 1947 one was the best. While the recipe calls for a Sour glass, it was often served in a Fu Manchu mug that has come under a lot of heat for its cultural appropriation. An Al Sotack article in Vice's Muchies series best explained the dilemma by quoting Paul McGee, "We're sensitive to the origins of tiki, and how it was a concept developed 80 years ago during a time when 'cultural appropriation' was not a mainstream concern in America. Some of the early tiki bars presented artifacts of Polynesian cultures outside of their sacred context and meaning, and without respect to the significance those items held in Polynesian culture. We do have some mugs with 'tiki' illustrations, but there are other mugs on the market that we don't feel comfortable using in service. For example, the Fu Manchu mug, and any hula girl or 'native babe' mugs."
I probably avoided the drink due to this concern coupled with not having green crème de menthe, but I decided that the recipe was worth trying and green food coloring could solve the second issue. In the glass, the Fu Manchu delivered an orange-herbal mint bouquet that was supplemented by my choice of mint garnish. Next, lime and orange paired elegantly on the sip, and the swallow began with funky rum flavors and ended with minty herbal elements. Given how restrained and elegant Tempus Fugit's liqueur is to cheaper ones, perhaps doubling the amount and removing the simple syrup ingredient would help shift this in the right direction.

midnight mountain

1 1/2 oz Amaro Nardini
1 oz Carpano Antica Sweet Vermouth (Cocchi)
1/4 oz Marie Brizard Crème de Menthe (Tempus Fugit)
1/4 oz Marie Brizard Crème de Cacao (Tempus Fugit)

Stir with ice, strain into a double old fashioned glass with a large ice cube, and garnish with an orange twist.
Two Tuesdays ago, I ventured into the Death & Co. Cocktail Book for a nightcap to round off my work night. In the fortified wine section was an alluring amaro-driven number called the Midnight Mountain by Brad Farran circa 2013. The drink was centered around Amaro Nardini and seemed to build on the chocolate and mint notes that I often find in that liqueur such as in the Stigmata and the Bitter Swagger. Once prepared, the Midnight Mountain shared orange, herbal, and caramel notes to the nose. Next, grape and caramel on the sip slipped into bitter herbal, minty, and chocolate flavors on the swallow. The end result was something more akin to Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies than Fernet Branca.

girl from ipanema

1 oz Avua Cachaça
1 oz Tempus Fugit Crème de Menthe
3/4 oz Passion Fruit Syrup
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
1 Egg White

Shake once without and once with ice, strain into a coupe, and garnish with a lemon twist and three drops of Angostura Bitters.
The libation that Andrea had at the Baldwin & Sons Trading Co. upstairs at Sichuan Garden II was the Girl from Ipanema. Overall, the drink name and ingredients came across like a tropical drink with mint and egg white smoothness modulating a cachaça Hurricane. In the glass, it gave forth a lemon and passion fruit nose. Next, a creamy lemon sip gave way to a grassy, passion fruit, and mint swallow with the mint pleasantly lingering on the finish. Indeed, I was impressed at how well the crème de menthe complemented the cachaça's grassiness.