the glorious fourth

1 drink Brandy (2 oz Courvoisier VS Cognac)
1 dash Jamaican Rum (1/4 oz Smith & Cross)
Juice of 1 Lime (3/4 oz)
4 dash Gomme Syrup (1/2 oz Simple)
1 large tablespoon Ice Cream (1+ oz Vanilla)

Shake and strain into a fancy glass.
The Glorious Fourth was one of the fancy drinks created by William Schmidt in his 1891 The Flowing Bowl, and the recipe came under discussion on Kindred Cocktails due to an early July post on Punch Drinks. Therefore, two Saturdays ago, I picked up some vanilla ice cream on my shopping expedition to test out this Brandy Sour taken in a dessert direction. Once prepared using the ice cream as the only cooling agent, the Glorious Fourth conjured up a Cognac and vanilla aroma with a hint of rum funk. Next a creamy lime sip with a touch of caramel notes proceeded into brandy, funky rum, and vanilla flavors on the swallow.

metropole

1/2 jigger Brandy (1 1/2 oz Courvoisier VS Cognac)
1/2 jigger French Vermouth (1 1/2 oz Noilly Prat Dry)
2 dash Gum Syrup (2 tsp Simple)
2 dash Peychaud's Bitters
1 dash Orange Bitters (Regan's)

Stir with ice, strain into a cocktail glass, and garnish with a cherry.

While looking through my old LiveJournal for the Fluffy Ruffles, I spotted the Metropole that I made in April 2008 shortly after having read about the drink in David Wondrich's Imbibe! book as well as on Chuck Taggart's blog. There, I made the somewhat newer 2:1 recipe that Wondrich preferred, but here, I found the older recipe in George Kappeler's 1895 Modern American Drinks as the equal parts drink. Wondrich wrote about this version in his Esquire Magazine column where he described the Metropole as, "If drinks were old movie stars, this one would be James Mason. Dark, handsome, suave, a little dry, but deep down a swine. Which is entirely appropriate, considering where it originated." The drink was created at the Metropole Hotel sometime between its opening in 1876 and the book's publication in 1895. Located near what became Times Square, the hotel's street-level Café Metropole served all night and gained a seedy reputation (hence, Wondrich's "swine" comment) until its demise in 1912 (only a week after one of the regulars got gunned down in front of the café). Kappeler also included the Metropolitan Cocktail which is pretty much the same there save for the bitters being two dashes of Angostura instead of the Peychaud's and orange bitters duo (and not the more modern Metropolitan that is the Cosmo riff with Kurant instead of Citron vodka, of course). The original Metropolitan published in O.H. Byron's 1884 Modern Bartender’s Guide preceded the Metropole and called for sweet vermouth instead of dry vermouth plus syrup, so perhaps the café purloined that and switched the vermouth type, bitters, and name slightly.
I opted for a little more simple syrup than specified which strayed from Wondrich's description of it being "a little dry," for I envisioned this to be a Cognac Sazerac minus the absinthe. In the glass, the Metropole presented a Cognac nose that preceded a semi-sweet and slightly fruity sip. Next, the swallow was a pleasing brandy and cherry anise combination.

the weeper's joy

3 dash Gum (1/4 oz Simple Syrup)
1/2 pony Absinthe (3/4 oz Kübler Absinthe)
1/2 pony Vino Vermouth (3/4 oz Cocchi Sweet)
1/2 pony Kümmel (3/4 oz Helbing)
1 dash Curaçao (1/4 oz Pierre Ferrand Dry)

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

When I got home two Fridays ago, I thought that it might be time to revisit a drink never made it on to the blog. The recipe was the Weeper's Joy -- an oddball combination that appeared in William Schmidt's 1891 The Flowing Bowl. I made that drink before I got a reprint of that tome for I was able to source it from David Wondrich's Imbibe! Many of the cocktails in Schmidt's book were weird ones, and it was not surprising that the 2010 Beta Cocktails zine (the photocopied one that came out between the book printing of 2009 Rogue Cocktails and 2011 Beta Cocktail books) hosted what appeared to be a riff on it called the Spice Trade with overlapping absinthe, kümmel, and curaçao ingredients.
For an absinthe, I selected Kübler for its softer balance seems to work the best in my collection with absinthe-forward recipes. Once prepared, the Weeper's Joy offered an anise and caraway aroma that preceded a sweet grape sip. Next, caraway, cumin, orange, anise, and other spice notes filled the swallow. Overall, it was the orange flavors that donated an elegance to the combination.

the french connection

1 1/2 oz Baldwin Bar's Private Cask of Plantation Trinidad 2009 Rum
1 oz Pierre Ferrand Premier Cru Cognac
1 tsp Lustau East India Solera Sherry
1 tsp Crème de Banana
1 tsp Gomme Syrup
2 dash "Tango Bitters" (1 dash each Bittermens Tiki and Angostura)

Stir with ice, strain into a rocks glass with ice, and garnish with 2 lemon twists. Note: the three 1 tsp ingredients were equal parts in a 1/2 oz pour of the mix (and in a previous version were 1/4 oz each).
The cocktail that Andrea selected at the Baldwin Bar two Sundays ago was the French Connection that featured the bar's recent purchase of a barrel's worth of Plantation 2009 Trinidad Rum. While Trinidad is not a French island, Plantation Rums are part of the Pierre Ferrand Cognac house, and their brandy made up the other large percentage of the Old Fashioned-like drink. Once prepared, the French Connection smuggled Cognac and rum aromas underneath the lemon oil notes from the twists. Next, caramel and grape on the sip transitioned into rum and brandy flavors on the swallow with light banana and spice accents.

the invitation

1 dash Gum (1/4 oz Simple Syrup)
1/2 small drink Sherry (1 1/2 oz Lustau Amontillado)
1/2 small drink Vino Vermouth (1 1/2 oz Cocchi Sweet Vermouth)
1 dash Absinthe (1 bsp Kübler)

Stir with ice and strain into a fancy glass.
Two Tuesdays ago, I reached for William Schmidt's 1891 The Flowing Bowl in search of an elegant oddity. There, I selected the Invitation that came across like an absinthe-tinged Adonis which sounded rather delightful and seemed to suggest by both the name and the ingredients that it would make for a fine aperitif. In the glass, the Invitation reached the nose with nutty grape aromas brightened by minty herbal accents. Next, a semi-dry grape sip was followed by a sweeter and rounder grape flavor on the swallow that led into an anise-herbal finish.

the gladstone

1 drink Whiskey (2 oz Old Overholt Rye)
1 dash Jamaican Rum (1/4 oz Smith & Cross)
a little Maraschino (1/4 oz Luxardo)
2 dash Gum (1/4 oz Simple Syrup
1 dash Absinthe (1 scant bsp Kübler)
1 dash Russian Kümmel (1 bsp Helbing)
2 dash Bitters (Jerry Thomas Decanter)

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.
For a drink two Thursday nights ago, I reached for William Schmidt's 1891 The Flowing Bowl and spotted the Gladstone. The recipe came across like a more complex Improved Whiskey Cocktail with additional flavors from Jamaican rum and kümmel. Once prepared, the Gladstone shared a whiskey, anise, and caraway bouquet to the nose. Next, malt and a light cherry flavor on the sip slid into rye, rum funk, nutty cherry, caraway, and other spice elements on the swallow. I was definitely pleased at how well the kümmel notes merged in with the bitters and absinthe of the Improved Whiskey Cocktail, and a touch of Jamaican rum funk rarely seems to hurt a flavor profile.

goldenback

1 1/2 oz Bulleit Bourbon (Old Granddad Bonded)
1/2 oz Camus VS Cognac
1/2 oz Suze Gentian Liqueur (Salers)
1/8 oz Gomme Syrup (Small Hands)
1 Lemon Twist

Express twist into the mixing glass, add the rest of the ingredients, and stir with ice. Strain into a coupe pre-rinsed with Lucid Absinthe (St. George).
Two Wednesdays ago, I decided to make a recipe that Gaz Regan published from his last season of Cocktails in the Country. The recipe was crafted by Jason Swaringen of Washionton D.C.'s McClellan's Retreat, and the Goldenshellback was his Diamonback Cocktail that he wanted to take in a more herbal-bitter direction. Once in the glass, the Goldenback proffered an anise-accented earthy herbal bouquet to the nose. Next, a smooth mouthfeel from the gum syrup was joined by malt notes on the sip, and the swallow gave forth Bourbon, hints of Cognac, and earthy gentian flavors with a bright finish from the absinthe.

the queen of the night

2/3 Port Wine (1 1/2 oz Sandeman Tawny)
1/3 Madeira (3/4 oz Blandy's 5 Year Verdelho)
1 dash Brandy (1/2 oz Camus VS)
1 dash Crème de Rose (1/4 oz Combier Liqueur de Rose)
2 dash Gum Syrup (1/4 oz Simple)

Stir with ice and strain into a cut glass with a dash (1/8 oz) Green Chartreuse at the bottom.

While shopping at Ball Square Fine Wines, I spotted a bottle of Combier's rose liqueur. After a moment of consideration, I purchased the specimen for I needed a crème de rose to try out a good number of recipes from William Schmidt's 1891 The Flowing Bowl; Schmidt seemed addicted to accenting his drinks with this now almost defunct cordial. Upon returning home, I assembled a list of drinks that used the liqueur, and when I read out the list to Andrea after having the Spievak Zombie, she picked The Queen of the Night for its Madeira content.
The Queen of the Night proffered a floral and grape aroma that led into a grape sip mostly from the port wine with some assistance from the Madeira. The grape next entered into the swallow where it finished with rose notes and herbal hints of Green Chartreuse.

white lion

1 jigger Bacardi Rum (1 1/4 oz DonQ Gold, 1/4 oz Wray & Nephew, 1/4 oz Vale d'Paul Agricole)
3 dash Maraschino Liqueur (3/8 oz Luxardo)
2 dash Apricot Liqueur (3/8 oz Rothman & Winter)
2 dash Gum Syrup (omitted)
Juice 1 Lime (1/2 oz)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

Two Fridays ago, I reached for Pioneers of Mixing at Elite Bars: 1903-1933 for the evening's nightcap. The recipe that called out to me was the White Lion in the rum section; I had previously skipped over that drink for it has the same name and a bit of similarity to Jerry Thomas' White Lion (which is rather similar to his Knickerbocker). Then again, Max Toste put his own spin on the White Lion at Deep Ellum, so perhaps riffing on the classic while maintaining the name has always been the norm. Instead of passing it over this time, I opted to make this Daiquiri variation of sorts.
In the glass, this White Lion shared funky and grassy rum aromas along with lime notes. The lime continued on into the sip where it mingled with hints of cherry and orchard fruit. And finally, the swallow shared funky rum, apricot, and nutty cherry flavors. Overall, it was closer to a Periodista than a classic Daiquiri.

budokan

1 oz Hamilton's 151 Proof Demerara Rum
1 oz Sandeman's Rainwater Madeira
1 barspoon Demarara Gum Syrup
2 dash Angostura Bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a rocks glass spritzed with shiitake mushroom-infused absinthe.

After the Hawthorne, I still had time in the Kenmore area before the game let out in Fenway so I made my way to Hojoko. I soon discovered that Yawkey Way was blocked off to foot traffic due to the game, but I was able to Jedi mindtrick the guard into letting me through to go get cocktails on the other side. Once there, I found a seat in front of bartender Stephanie Ann Wheeler, and I asked her for the Budokan. Bartender Daren Swisher later came by to talk about their rum Sazerac of sorts and described how Madeira often has a mushroomy aspect to it, and the shiitake-infused absinthe helped to reinforce that.
The absinthe rinse paid dividends in the aroma department. Next, caramel richness from the rum dominated the sip with perhaps some grape notes hiding in there, and the swallow showcased the rest of the rum flavors along with bitter herbal elements.

american flambee

The theme for this month's Mixology Monday (MxMo LXXVI) was picked by Muse of Doom of the Feu de Vie blog. The theme she chose was "Fire!" which I could not help but read with a Beavis & Butthead voice. The Muse elaborated on the theme with her description of, "Tiki-philes have their flaming spent lime shells and scorpion bowls. Classic cocktailers have the magic of a flamed orange zest. Molecular mixologists have their Smoking Guns... You don't have to go full Blue Blazer, not nearly -- heck, you could go full Fireball Whiskey!... You could riff on the Old Flame or come up with an inventive name of your own. You could even use a good firewater or burned wine. ...In essence, bring the heat! Bring the Fire! Bring your inspiration!"

When I thought of fire drinks that I have already covered, I have done Tiki ones like the Cradle of Life, burnt mint ones like the Vellocet, burnt rosemary ones like the Rubicon and Rosemary's Baby, and burnt citrus peel containing fires that are quenched by a chilled drink such as the Krakatoa. All of these were relatively new recipes, and I know that the history of flaming drinks goes back quite a ways. I have had classic Blue Blazer and new school ones like the Death in a Doublewide, but I did not feel comfortable doing that in my home kitchen. As I flipped through the literature, I found a few 19th century flaming poussé-cafes, but poussé-cafes always seem like a novelty drink (unless there is an egg yolk in the middle and then it is a right of passage). What I was searching for but had forgotten where I had read them were a series of drinks that utilized spirits ignited in inverted citrus peel "cups"; I had always been intrigued by them but glossed over them when it came time to mixed. Finally, I re-discovered several in Pioneers of Mixing at Elite Bars: 1903-1933. The ones that used orange peels seemed like they would not utilize much spirit, so I opted for the American Flambée that calls for a grapefruit peel; there was another grapefruit peel one but it was served with boiling water which seemed wrong for the warm summer evening. I was definitely curious to see how alcohol as a solvent mixed with the caramelization effect from the flame would extract interesting flavors from the citrus peel.

American Flambée
• Take the skin from a large 1/2 grapefruit, turn inside out.
• Put in a vessel to hold skin, add 1/2 liquor glass of Bourbon.
• Light, and when out, strain into a glass.
• Add a dash of gum syrup.
• Garnish with nutmeg.

To this recipe, I increased the spirit to 1 1/2 oz and utilized Fighting Cock 103° Bourbon. After it burned to the point of extinguishing itself, it was about an ounce. Some loss was due to the burning process while the rest was either from absorption into the peel or drippage over the side. I did move the flaming peel from the jigger base to a bowl shortly after the photo (once the first drop of burning alcohol hit the counter). For a dash of sweetener, I used a 1/4 oz of simple syrup, and I added a stir with ice and strain step instead of serving it room temperature; however, I did add the "room temperature" to the post to pay homage to the original recipe.
Once prepared, the nutmeg's aroma complemented the caramelized grapefruit peel notes; later, as the drink warmed up, it gained whiskey elements on the nose. Next, a sweet malt sip led into a Bourbon-y swallow with a wonderful bitter grapefruit finish. Overall, the effect was akin to a spectacularly generated à la minute grapefruit bitters that flavored a Whiskey Old Fashioned.
So thank you to the Muse of Doom for getting me to try a recipe I had skipped over many a time before, thanks to Saint Florian for protecting me in my mixology protocol, and thanks to the rest of the Mixology Monday participants for keeping the flame of Mixology Monday events from extinguishing!

white house

Jigger St. Croix Rum (1 1/2 oz Privateer Silver)
3 dash Lemon Juice (1/2 oz)
2 dash Gum Syrup (1/2 oz Simple)
2 dash Madeira (3/4 oz Blandy's Verdelho)

Shake with ice and strain into a glass filled with cracked ice. Decorate with fruits, berries, and mint.
After the Cortez Julep, I found a recipe in Pioneers of Mixing at Elite Bars: 1903-1933 that would well utilize the extra mint sprigs that I picked from our garden. That drink, the White House, appeared to be a rum Fix, but it did not appear in the Fix section of that chapter on rum recipes. Once mixed, the mint contributed greatly to the White House's nose. A grape and lemon sip led into the rum on the swallow along with the Madeira and its sharp and smoky notes.

georgia

1/3 Booth's Gin (1 oz Hayman's Navy Strength)
1/3 Lemon Juice (1 oz)
1/6 Gomme Syrup (1/2 oz Simple)
1/6 Strega (1/2 oz)
Spot of Egg White (1/2 Egg White)

Shake once without ice and once with ice. Strain into a cocktail glass.
Two Thursdays ago, we began the cocktail hour with an interesting Strega drink from the Café Royal Cocktail Book called the Georgia. The drink began with a lemon and herbal aroma that contained an oregano-like note. The sweet, smooth sip yielded a pleasing lemon flavor that led into a botanical-rich swallow with gin and Strega notes. Overall, the Georgia was a lot smoother of a Strega drink than the Berkley Hotel Cocktail perhaps due to the egg white and addition sugar added.

l'aurore

2/3 Old Tom Gin (1 1/2 oz Ransom)
1/3 Sweet Vermouth (3/4 oz Cocchi Vermouth di Torino)
1 dash Gum Syrup (1/4 oz Simple)
1 dash Maraschino Liqueur (1/4 oz Luxardo)
1 dash Absinthe (1/4 oz Kübler)
2 dash Orange Bitters (Regan's)

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with fruit (cherry).

Two Thursdays ago, I was flipping through William Schmidt's The Flowing Bowl from 1892 and spotted the L'Aurore. The drink seemed like an interesting Martinez-like drink that also shared similarity with his Angelus. With L'Aurore meaning "the dawn," I am unsure if this was meant as a foglifter in the morning or whether it was just part of his astronomical drink naming tendency like The Sun.
The L'Aurore began with a Maraschino and anise aroma that led into a grape and spice sip. The savory gin flavors appeared on the swallow along with the Maraschino and absinthe, and the drink offered a delightful lingering chocolate note at the end.

improved whiskey cocktail

2 oz Rittenhouse 100 Rye
1 barspoon Gomme Syrup (1/8 oz)
1 barspoon Maraschino Liqueur (1/8 oz)
4 dash Angostura Bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a rocks glass rinsed with 2 spritzes of Vieux Pontarlier Absinthe. Twist a lemon peel over the top and discard.

For my other drink at Craigie on Main, I asked bartender Ann for the Improved Whiskey Cocktail that just appeared on the menu. I first had an Improved Cocktail for the 19th century-themed Mixology Monday where I made a Improved Gin Cocktail. There, I explained the two major improvements over the Fancy Cocktail which was an Old Fashioned gussied up with a dash or two of Curaçao, the hot new cocktail ingredient of the day, and which appeared in the 1862 edition of Jerry Thomas' book. The improvements showed up in the 1876 update of Thomas' book where the Fancy's Curaçao was swapped for Maraschino and the new hot ingredient -- absinthe. I also revisited the drink at the Bols Genever release party where the Improved Holland Gin Cocktail was showcased as a classic use of the spirit. However, I had never had the drink as a whiskey one, and I decided to take the Craigie's menu's suggestion that it was a good time to try it.
Much like a Sazerac, the Improved Whiskey Cocktail began with a lemon and anise nose. The malty sip led into a hot, flavorful rye swallow with light Maraschino notes and spice from the Angostura Bitters and absinthe. The drink did veer from the Sazerac for it lacked the specific color and flavors of Peychaud's Bitters and possessed the extra funky, nutty notes of Maraschino on the swallow.

::chicha night: pisco sours, peruvian surf music, and food::

On Thursday, Andrea and I went to a Somerville Arts Council event hosted by Brother Cleve at Machu Picchu in Union Square. Besides celebrating the food of Peru, Cleve highlighted the Pisco Sour and Peruvian surf music.

In terms of pisco, Cleve acknowledged that there were the Peruvian and Chilean styles; however, he mostly focused on the former. After the Spanish Conquistadors led by Francisco Pizarro arrived in 1532, they began to take over the Incan empire. As the Spanish began to colonize the region, they tried to bring an Iberian-style of agriculture with them including viticulture. While many of the grape varietals they tried had trouble taking root in the desert-like parts of Peru, eventually certain strains had success. Although the wine was not very notable, it was discovered that distillation could make a rather fine product; the first written evidence of this dates back to 1613.

In terms of modern pisco production in Peru, it is all distilled in copper Alembic stills to bottling proof, aged in inert containers like glass or stainless steel and not wood, and bottled without dilution. The spirit gained a lot of popularity in America especially on the West Coast during the mid 19th century. As people flocked to California during the Gold Rush, boats making the trip around South America stopped into port in Lima, Peru, and purchased pisco. Unfortunately, two events in the 1910s led to pisco's decline in popularity here. The first was the opening of the Panama Canal in 1914 which made the trip around Cape Horn unnecessary; the other was Prohibition in 1919. Pisco only witnessed a resurgence in this country in the last decade or two.

While Cleve did speak about Duncan Nicol and his famous Pisco Punch as well as a few other drinks, he spent more time on the Pisco Sour. During Prohibition, there was a well-known diaspora of bartending talent to Europe and the Caribbean. However, some went to Peru including Victor Morris who is credited in modifying the classic Whiskey Sour into the first Pisco Sour in the early 1920s.

Cleve showed off his bartending prowess by talking us through making a Pisco Sour. In terms of ingredients, he spoke about the different types of piscos made from single varietals or combinations of the four aromatic and four nonaromatic grape varietals. I spoke about this in my notes on the Pisco Blending Seminar at Tales of the Cocktail last summer. Next, he pointed out that the limes found in Peru are unlike the Persian limes we are used to for our Gin and Tonics. The closest approximation of the proper limes that we can get here are Key Limes. With a hand squeezer, it took four or five of these small limes to provide an ounce of juice. Instead of simple syrup, Cleve recommended gomme syrup that is traditionally used for the gum arabic sap softens the taste of the alcohol on the tongue and makes the drink all too easy to quaff. Cleve recommended Vargas brand's gomme syrup that he finds rather inexpensively at Frío Rico in East Boston (360 Bennington St via the Wood Island T stop).

Pisco Sour
• 3 oz Pisco Quebranta (like Macchu Pisco)
• 1 oz Key Lime Juice
• 1 oz Gomme Syrup (like Vargas brand)
• 1 Egg White
Shake all but the pisco without ice; add the pisco and ice, and shake hard. Strain into a wine or rocks glass. Garnish the top with several drops of Amargo Chuncho Peruvian Bitters (sub Angostura).

Cleve claimed that the three ounce pour of spirit was traditional, and it falls within the 2-4 ounce range used in most recipes I have seen. Note that Cleve added the pisco after the dry shake. Although I could find no evidence of alcohol causing issues with egg white foaming, foaming decreases after the egg white is diluted to 40% of its original volume according to Harold McGee in On Food and Cooking (and mentioned in my notes about eggs). With egg sizes of today, that value means that 3 ounces or less of mix to one egg white often provides the best results. Cleve was not the only one making Pisco Sours that night, for the restaurant staff made us two rounds. What I noticed was that they were adding their sugar syrup to the wine glasses first and pouring from what I assume were blender-prepared pitchers of the pisco, lime juice, egg white, and ice mixtures. With a quick stir of a straw, the drink became fully sweetened. Sugar has both a positive and negative effect on foaming; early, it will delay foaming and reduce the foam's final volume and lightness by interfering with the protein molecules unraveling. Later, sugar works to stabilize foams by keeping air bubbles inside the protein lattice longer.

For further information, Brother Cleve recommended Gregory Dicum's The Pisco Book. Some supplemental information was added here from that book, and I have mentioned a drink recipe, the Firecracker Cocktail, that I found there.

The end of the evening showcased Brother Cleve's DJing skills. While in Peru, he added to his vast record collection by buying indigenous music including Chicha. Chicha, or Peruvian surf music, became popular in the 1960s as pentatonic scales of Andean music was fused with Columbian Cumbia and psychedelic American surf guitars and synthesizers. For samples of the music, check out the Barbès record label or this collection of videos.

the angelus

1 dash Gum Syrup (1/8 oz Jaggery)
1 dash Absinthe (1/8 oz Kübler)
A little Vermouth (1/2 oz Vya Sweet)
1 pony Old Tom Gin (1 oz Ransom)
2 dash Orange Bitters (2 dash Regan's)
2 dash Curaçao (1/4 oz Senior Curaçao)

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

After having the Sunshine, I decided that we needed to try something a bit more old school and found the Angelus in William Schmidt's The Flowing Bowl. With Old Tom Gin and sweet vermouth, the drink reminded me of the Martinez Cocktail with a few alterations. For a gin, I opted for the more flavorful Ransom Old Tom but later remade it with Hayman's.
The Angelus when made with the Ransom presented an orange aroma from the Curaçao and bitters, a mint- and thyme-like aroma from the gin, and perhaps a hint of anise from the absinthe. The sip was rather simple with orange and grape notes, while the swallow showcased the spiciness of the gin. As the drink warmed up, the absinthe notes began to appear on the swallow as well. We could not believe how delicious this drink was, and I believed it was the Ransom Old Tom Gin tying the drink together. Therefore, I remade the drink with Hayman's. The drink lacked a lot of the savory herb notes in the nose and spice on the swallow; moreover, the drink was much more absinthe and orange forward. While the drink was decent with the Hayman's, it was nothing magical; with Ransom, it was worthy of the Angelus name.

[chaud lapin]

2 oz. bourbon (Old Fitzgerald was used)
1/2 oz. gomme syrup
1/4 oz. pimento dram

Stir with a mixture of cracked and whole ice in a mixing glass, and decant into a cocktail glass. Squeeze a generous amount of lemon peel over the top and discard.

Last night (11/2) marked the first time that Drink was open on a Sunday. Fred and I hopped on the Red Line last night after dinner in Davis Square and we arrived there to find the same cast of bartending characters as last time - Sam, John, and Ben. There were maybe a dozen patrons all clustered at the central bar. We chose the right-hand edge, and John asked us what we were in the mood to drink. I was leaning towards bourbon, and then I spotted the dram on the counter. John said he would make me a simple drink utilizing both, and I clapped in anticipation.

I don't know if there is any cinnamon in the pimento dram, but that's certainly what I tasted. The heat of the Old Fitz was dulled only slightly by the gomme, and the result was like an old fashioned candy with just enough bite. In the scale of trick or treat, this was certainly a treat.

Neither John nor Sam enjoy naming drinks. And since many of the cocktails at Drink are made up on the fly, I suppose naming each and every one would be quite an undertaking, and ultimately unhelpful. That's all well and good, but it leaves me in a bit of quandary as a blogger, since I'd like the titles of the posts to immediately evoke in my memory what the drink was like. So, I'm adopting the following convention: if a drink is unnamed, I'm simply going to make a name up and enclose it in brackets. Hopefully the name will evoke something, and provide a degree of entertainment value.

And if there isn't already a cocktail that's actually named "chaud lapin", well, there should be.

the improved gin cocktail

The theme for this month's Mixology Monday (MxMo XXXI) is 19th century cocktails as chosen by the Bibulo.us blog. The theme was a little bit of a challenge since most of my cocktail books start their focus in the 1910s to 1930s; however, I did have access to Jerry Thomas' Bartending Guide (or How to Mix Drinks) online and as well as to David Wondrich's Imbibe which tells a good history of Thomas. We had already made a few drinks from these sources including the Weeper's Joy and others, and I wanted to try something new.

The drink I went with was the Improved Gin Cocktail. The improved part comes from an 1876 update of Jerry Thomas' book. Two major "improvements" over the Fancy Gin Cocktail were the use of maraschino instead of curacao and the use of absinthe. Absinthe, much like in the last year or so in this country, was the popular fad during the 1870s and 1880s. A dash or more was added to cocktails to add some extra complexity to the drink besides the standard use of absinthe as a base liqueur.
Improved Gin Cocktail
• 2 oz Gin (1 small wine glass)
• 1 tsp Gomme Syrup (3 dashes)
• 1/2 tsp Maraschino Liqueur (2 dashes)
• 1/4 tsp Absinthe (1 dash)
• 2 dashes Boker's Bitters
Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass which has the rim coated with a slice of lemon. Twist lemon peel over top to express the oil. The Jerry Thomas measurements are in parenthesis while the Wondrich interpretation is on the left.

Ingredients notes: for a gin, we used Boomsma Oude Genever gin which would approximate some of the gin being used in this period. Oude Genever is a Dutch style that is rather malty and tastes like a light whiskey mixed with the juniper notes of modern day gin. Luxardo Maraschino and Versinthe absinthe rounded out the other store bought ingredients. The gomme syrup I had made after a major hunt for gum arabic which I ended up buying online before I was alerted that it was available in a local Indian spice shop under a different name (I believe it was Indian gum, and it was in crystals instead of a fine powder). And lastly, the Boker's Bitters were the first bitters that I made and bottled at home; I wrote about the process in this blog entry. A bottle of my Boker's is at the bar at Rendezvous in Cambridge, MA, if you're in town and curious. Angostura Bitters would make a fine store-bought substitute for the Boker's, and simple syrup for the gomme syrup as well.

I found that the absinthe and the bitters made for a good pairing, and these tastes were balanced out by the sweetness and smoothness of the gomme syrup and maraschino. The gin gave a good base for the rest of the ingredients without overpowering the drink with its flavor. Andrea's seemed rather pleased with her Improved Gin Cocktail, and she commented that her first sip tasted like an old-fashioned cherry cough drop.

nasturtium bitters

After remembering the nasturtium-infused gin we made last year, I decided to craft some cocktail bitters around this peppery tasting flower that grows around the border of our vegetable garden as well as elsewhere in our yard.
I used botanical to alcohol and water ratios from various recipes I found (and there is great variation through out the recipes) and chose my first recipe. Version 1 was similar to the recipe below and started out with a very good nasturtium and orange aroma during days 1-2. By days 4-5, it was way too bitter when used in a 3:1 Plymouth gin:Noilly Prat martini; in fact, it was horribly bitter. I ended up having to dump that batch and to scrap the milk thistle and cut back wormwood 5 fold. The experience taught me to pilot lot new recipes in the small scale -- such as the Celery Bitters that are ongoing which started as 6 jars of 1 oz size.
The recipe that I ended up going with and bottling:

Yarm's Nasturtium Bitters
• 12 oz Bacardi 151 rum
• 4 oz water
• 45 grams nasturtium flowers (wet weight)
• 10 grams dried orange peel
• 8 grams cardamom pods (sliced open)
• 7.5 grams cinnamon stick
• 5 grams gentian
• 1 gram wormwood
• 2 grams star anise
Let steep for 14 days.
• 12 oz water
• 30 grams nasturtium flowers (wet weight)
Muddle the flowers in a separate jar and store in fridge overnight.
Filter the alcohol portion through a coffee filter.
Wash the botanicals with the nasturtium water, and filter this wash. Combine with alcohol filtrate.
Bottle.

The recipe does not reflect that I added some of the botanicals after sampling them at day 4. I doubled the cinnamon and cardamom, added the star anise, upped the gentian from 1 to 5 grams, and added the 4 oz of water to keep the herbs submerged. One difference was between the first and second batches of bitters, it rained a lot and the flavor quality of the nasturtiums changed. The first were rather sharp and peppery, and the second were more tea-like akin to a rooibos which might be why I added the second round of botanicals.

My favorite recipe with them so far is:

Rum Old Fashioned
• 1 1/2 oz Medium-bodied rum (Ron Zacapa 15 year)
• 1/4 oz Gomme (or simple) syrup
• 2-3 dashes of Nasturtium bitters
Stir with ice and strain into a rocks glass.

Enjoy!

August 2010 post-script: I remade the bitters this year. It was a less rainy season this year, so the flowers had more flavor and aroma. I, therefore, scrapped the 12 ounces of muddle flower water and swapped in 6 ounces of water. I used a new batch of cinnamon that made this note more prominent; surprisingly, the cardamom (same batch) seems more dominant. Perhaps it was the muddling of the cardamom pods that helped.