broken spur cocktail no. 1

1 oz White Port (Ramos Pinto)
1 oz Gin (Aviation)
1 dash Anisette (1 barspoon Herbsaint)
1 Egg Yolk

Shake one round without ice and once with. Strain into a cocktail glass.
On Monday night, I started browsing our cocktail books for recipes that use white port as we had bought a bottle this past weekend. One that appealed to me was the first Broken Spur in Trader Vic's Bartender's Guide. The book also contained a Broken Spur #2 which had the gin reduced to a quarter ounce and with the addition of a quarter ounce of sweet vermouth. The Broken Spur we made had a soft anise nose. The drink was not overwhelmingly anise but it was one of the main tastes besides the richness from the port and egg yolk. The Broken Spur's flavor made Andrea think of a fennel crème brûlée. Overall, it was a decent drink although I felt that it might be improved with a sprinkling of grated cinnamon or nutmeg as a garnish.

alamagoozlum

1/2 Egg White
2 oz Genever Gin (Bols)
2 oz Water
1 1/2 oz Jamaican Rum (Plantation)
1 1/2 oz Yellow or Green Chartreuse (Green)
1 1/2 oz Gomme Syrup
1/2 oz Curacao (Mathilde XO)
1/2 oz Angostura Bitters

Shake hard with ice for a while. Strain into cocktail (or here, rocks) glasses. Makes 4 servings or so.

While drinking my first cocktail at Drink on Sunday night, I was talking with bartender Joe Staropoli and somehow he mentioned the Alamagoozlum and how one customer will not forgive Joe for making him that drink. And to that, my reply was to declare that I would love for him to make me that cocktail as my second beverage. The Alamagoozlum is the lead-off recipe in Ted Haigh's Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails and originally appeared in Charles H. Baker's 1939 Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask. Baker claimed that the drink was invented by J. Pierpont Morgan -- yes, the famous the banker and philanthropist was apparently an amateur bartender as well. I think it was the 1/2 oz of Angostura bitters that deterred me from making it at home, or perhaps the grand volume of the recipe. This should not have been much of a deterrent since I have enjoyed my experiences with copious amounts of Angostura bitters such as in the Trinidad Sour and since I am fully capable of scaling drinks down. Actually, the amount of bitters per serving (assuming it splits 4 ways) is less than the amount in a Seelbach.

Joe got very enthused and set to work on making the Alamagoozlum. I tried to convince him to scale the drink down, but he decided he would make it full sized and find homes for the other servings. The drink once poured had a rather healthy head on it with the froth deriving from the egg white and Angostura bitters. The nose was full of green Chartreuse and Angostura's cinnamon notes and was a prelude to the flavors to come. The Alamagoozlum was rather rich from the egg and the malty Genever, and it had a good deal of spice from the Chartreuse and bitters. I could not fathom why the gentleman did not enjoy the drink the previous time Joe made the recipe, except that he might not have been a fan of green Chartreuse. The yellow Chartreuse option would produce a less sharp and slightly sweeter balance and might be a decent path for those who prefer milder cocktails.

And speaking of communal drinking experiences, we ended the night with some tequila. To our right was New Hampshire bartender Jeff Grdinich who had just returned from his Mezcal adventures in Oaxaca, Mexico, and the conversation had been focused on agave spirits for much of the night. John Gertsen decided that our tequila needed to be served in a particular way taught to him by Alex Ott, a bartender and grandson of the famous Dada artist. Gertsen freshly grated a "discernible mound of cinnamon" on top of each orange slice, and we were instructed to take a bite of the dusted orange slice and then drink the tequila. The pairing works best with a reposado tequila since the cinnamon complements the wood notes from the tequila's barrel aging (besides cinnamon generally pairing well with tequila).

knickerbocker

1/2 Lime or Lemon (Lime)
1 wineglass Santa Cruz Rum (2 oz Flor de Caña 4 Year Gold)
2 tsp Raspberry Syrup (Homemade, see recipe below)
1/2 tsp Curaçao (Curaçao de Curaçao)

Squeeze juice out of lime half and drop the lime shell into a 6-8 oz tumbler glass filled with crushed ice. Either build drink in glass and shake, or shake drink separately with ice, and strain over crushed ice. Garnish with berries of the season.

On Saturday night when we got home, we decided to combine a nightcap with crossing off one more drink from the Anvil's 100 Drink list. I chose the Knickerbocker from the list's remainders since I had made up a batch of raspberry syrup earlier in the day using frozen raspberries. The recipe is a modification of one I found in the New York Times:

Raspberry Syrup
• 1 cup Raspberries
• 1 tbsp Sugar
Combine ingredients in a sauce pan and cook over a medium flame for 5 minutes. Stir constantly and use back of spoon to break up berries.
• 3/4 cup Water
• 1/2 tsp Lemon Juice
Add second batch of ingredients, bring to a boil, and then simmer for 15 minutes. Let cool. Strain through tea towel or cheesecloth, and squeeze out remaining liquid until only solids remain in the cloth. Give the sauce pan a quick rinse with water, and pour in the strained berry juice.
• 1 1/3 cup Sugar
Add an equal portion of sugar to make a 1:1 berry simple syrup. Heat while stirring for 2 minutes until all sugar has dissolved. Let cool, skim off any foam, and bottle.
• 1 oz Vodka
Optional addition to help preserve the syrup from microbial growth; add and mix by inverting to bring the ABV to ~5%. Either way, store covered in refrigerator. Makes a little under 2 cups.

Finding the appropriate recipe for the Knickerbocker given Huegel's description of "rum, raspberry syrup, curaçao, and lime" was more difficult than I imagined. Most of the recipes in the dozen or so books I opened were for either lemon juice or lemon plus orange juice, not lime. It was not until I opened Ted Haigh's book which pointed me to Jerry Thomas' 1862 How to Mix Drinks, or The Bon-vivant's Companion did I find the one that I followed. At that point, I decided to check on what David Wondrich had to say in Imbibe! about Jerry Thomas' recipe. Wondrich recommended the lime option which is unusual since history has seemed to have picked the lemon one as the winner. Wondrich also suggested increasing the curaçao (to upwards of 1 oz) if one is seeking a sweeter drink instead of increasing the raspberry syrup. And lastly, Wondrich recommended against shaking the drink with the lime shell as doing so would impart bitter notes from the lime oils.
We opted against increasing the sweetness of our drinks, and the balance turned out on the tart but not unpleasantly so side. Perhaps it had to do with our larger limes which yielded almost an ounce and a half total of juice (most limes yield about an ounce, and in 1862, probably a bit less than that) but the drink was still very enjoyable to drink that way. I could understand why Wondrich preferred the lime option for the raspberry-lime is a classic flavor combination. The rum flavor was a bit subtle under the fruit notes, and the rum heat was apparent but not uncomfortably so on the swallow. The drink was rather refreshing and was in essence the short drink version of a Rum Rickey.

the melody

1 1/2 oz Dry Gin (209)
3/4 oz Passion Fruit Juice
3/4 oz Lillet Blanc
2 dash Cointreau (1 tsp)
2 dash Calvados (1 tsp Marquis de Saint-Loup)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.
On Friday night, I was flipping through the Cafe Rayal Cocktail Book when I spotted the Melody. Perhaps it was the combination of the passion fruit and the Lillet that called out to me -- a combination that I had previously tinkered with in the Plastic Passion swizzle. And perhaps it was the curiosity of why there were 2 dashes of Calvados in a drink instead of a more sizable measure. The Melody started off with a fruity nose and fruity taste in the first part of the sip which was followed by the bite from the gin. Moreover, the Cointreau provided a different fruit note that lingered after the swallow. The drink was rather mild due to its low acid content, and as it warmed up, it reminded Andrea of a citrus-light Pegu Club.

balmy night

1 oz Dry Sherry (Lustau Los Arcos Dry Amontillado)
1 oz Jamaican Rum (Appleton V/X)
1/2 oz Orange Juice
1/4 Curaçao (Curaçao of Curaçao)
1/4 Allspice Dram (St. Elizabeth's)
1 dash Angostura Bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange twist.
The theme for last night's Thursday Drink Night on Mixoloseum was Allspice Dram cocktails. Allspice Dram, historically known as Pimento Dram, is a rum-based liqueur infused with allspice and often clove, cinnamon, and nutmeg which can add a Caribbean, Tiki, or Christmastime element to drinks. For inspiration, I borrowed the sherry-dram-Cointreau combination from the Balm cocktail and the rum-dram-orange juice from the Kingston Heights to yield the Balmy Night (which was apropos considering the unseasonably warm weather here in New England yesterday). The Balmy Night started with a robust orange nose from the peel oil and the freshly squeezed juice. On the sip, the nuttiness of the sherry was followed by the spiciness of the dram and Angostura bitters. Moreover, the sherry worked well with the orange flavors from the juice and curaçao liqueur, and the rum added some richness of flavor and much needed heat. One of the Mixoloseum participants who made the drink commented that the Balmy Night had a nice Polynesian feel to it with the sherry and rum combination and how the allspice notes towards the end of the sip rounded out the drink.

blackthorn

1/2 Irish Whiskey (1 oz Knappogue Castle)
1/2 Dry Vermouth (1 oz Dolin)
3 dash Absinthe (1 barspoon Pernod Absinthe)
3 dash Angostura

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.
A few nights ago, it was time to make good use of the bottle of Irish whiskey we bought in New Hampshire by making the Blackthorn off of the Anvil's 100 Drink list. The recipe, which we found in the Savoy Cocktail Book, also gave us a good excuse to try our media sample of Pernod Absinthe. All of the ingredients were pale yellows and greens which gave me the impression that the drink was going to be light in color. However, after the 3 dashes of Angostura bitters, the liquid in the mixing glass turned orangey red. Moreover, once the drink was poured, the milkiness from the absinthe louche was evident. The color reminded Andrea of sloe gin which I found interesting since 3 of the 5 Blackthorn recipes in Boothby's 1934 World Drinks and How to Mix Them contained sloe gin instead of whiskey (the last one was a gin drink which would be a similar hue from its Dubonnet content). The Irish whiskey-based drink we made had an anise nose and a rather dry balance. There were malt and dry vermouth notes on the front of the sip followed by absinthe and bitters flavors on the swallow. In essence, the drink was a dry Manhattan with a bit of absinthe. I felt that the subtle flavors of the Irish whiskey were a little lost in the mix as compared to Bourbon or rye in similar recipes, although its maltiness did shine through.

tennessee

2 oz Jack Daniels Whiskey (or other Tennessee Whiskey)
1/2 oz Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur
1/2 oz Lemon Juice

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a cocktail cherry.

On Monday night, Andrea and I stopped into the Independent for their "Barstool Mountain Monday: Country Drinking Songs and Country Drinks" event. I am not sure if the night was to celebrate all that is hillybilly noir or to honor bartender Evan Harrison on his last night at the Independent before shifting over to Deep Ellum. On the menu were a few drink specials including the Country Gentleman (applejack, curacao, lemon juice, and sugar) which Andrea selected and the Tennessee which I chose. The Tennessee was essentially an Aviation with the herbalness of the gin swapped for the barrel-aged sour mash taste of the whiskey. On the sip, the drink started out with a tart lemon note which was followed by the whiskey and then the Maraschino flavors. The presence of the citrus and liqueur smoothed out the spirit considerably and made the Tennessee easy, yet not boring, to drink.

navy grog

3/4 oz Lime Juice
3/4 oz Grapefruit Juice
3/4 oz Honey
1 oz Light Puerto Rican Rum (Tommy Bahama White Sand)
1 oz Dark Jamican Rum (Appleton VX)
1 oz Demerara Rum (Lemon Hart 80)
1 oz Club Soda

Heat honey until liquid and mix with juices and rum. Shake without ice until honey is mostly mixed. Add ice and shake again. Add soda water and pour into double old-fashioned glass filled with crushed ice or ice cone with straw. To make ice cone, pack a Pilsner glass with shaved ice and poke a hole with a chopstick down the center. Gently remove ice cone and freeze overnight (read text for other options).
Sunday night was Tiki night at our kitchen. I had been eying Don the Beachcomber's Navy Grog recipe in Beachbum Berry's Grog Log for a while, and recently had been perfecting my ice cone making technique. And on Sunday, I finally had a pair that were viable. Neither my Ice-O-Mat crusher nor my Lewis Bag and mallet yielded "shaved ice" so packing it down like snow did not work. I did not try our blender which might have worked better than the hand-powered methods and the thought of waiting for the first good snow fall did cross my mind. My solution was to wet the ice bits down with cold water, pour off the excess liquid, and fill up my makeshift molds. The ice once refrozen adhered too well to the Pilsner glass and made extracting it in one piece difficult (and without the wet ice, it did not stay together well either). My solution was to cut the bottom off of a half liter Poland Spring seltzer bottle. The plastic bottle allowed me away to squeeze the ice out as well as to remove the cap and push from the bottom. As for the chopstick, I found that leaving it in for two hours with a wiggle every 30 to 60 minutes prevented the chopstick from sticking (I was using wood; plastic would probably stick less). After that, I removed the chopstick and let the wet ice refreeze for several hours more. Making the cone should not have been that difficult, but having the wrong form of ice certainly made things a challenge.

But finally, Navy Grog! The drink was very rummy with rich dark rum notes standing out in the beginning of the sip and white rum heat on the swallow. When I asked Andrea what she thought of the fruit flavors, her response was, "There's juice in here?" Although after a few more sips, whether through ice melt diluting the grog or through our taste buds acclimating, the citrus and honey flavors became evident. Overall, the Navy Grog was rather pleasant, and I would be rather satisfied if it were hot out. However, it was a chilly night in late November, and I felt that the drink could use some flair whether through a barspoon of allspice dram or a few dashes of pastis or bitters (*). Next time I will try an ukulele soundtrack to see if it aids my tropical island imagination and saves me from the wintry mood.

(*) Post note: Fans of this concept can try Beachbum Berry's original Ancient Mariner which is similar enough that Ted Haigh lists it as the Navy Grog recipe in the new edition of his book.

2nd post note: When I showed the photo of our Navy Grog to bartender John Gertsen, he quickly focused in our lime peel flag and commented how it reminded him of a Gin Pennant and immediately set off to fetch his copy of the Mixologist which had a description of it. Wikipedia describes the flag's meaning as "that the wardroom is inviting officers from ships in company to drinks... Originally it was a small green triangular pennant measuring approximately 18 by 9 inches, defaced with a white wine glass, nowadays the gin pennant is a Starboard pennant defaced with a wine or cocktail glass." And the Mixicologist asserts that "Whenever and wherever a ship hoisted the pennant, it meant that it was time to 'come aboard for a drink'".

checkers

1/4 Bacardi Rum (1/2 oz Rhum JM Blanc, see text)
1/4 Pineapple Juice (1/2 oz)
1/4 Sweet Plymouth Gin (1/2 oz Hayman's Old Tom, see text)
1/4 Dry Vermouth (1/2 oz Dolin)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Ratio in the recipe was shorthand for fractions of a jigger (1 1/2 oz), and this was upped to fractions of 2 oz here.

Last week, I was flipping through our new Pioneers of Mixing at Elite Bars (1903-1933) book and I spotted the Checkers cocktail. The equal parts nature and the mixing of gin and rum intrigued me and reminded me slightly of the Between the Sheets (four equal parts with rum and brandy, not rum and gin). Beneath the recipe, there were two notes in regards to the spirits. One was about the Bacardi Rum of that era. The editors recommended either Cuban rum (like Havana Club) or a rhum agricole to mimic that style, and we opted for the latter. The second was about the Sweet Plymouth Gin which is no longer made; the editors suggested using regular Plymouth Gin, but we opted for Old Tom, a sweet gin style.
Once mixed, pineapple was rather strong on the nose and was the first flavor detected on the sip. The pineapple notes melded smoothly into the funky rhum agricole flavors on the beginning of the taste, and this combination was followed by the herbal notes of the gin and vermouth on the swallow. The Checkers was not overly dry with the only sweetness stemming from the gin and the pineapple juice. Andrea wondered if the drink would benefit from a dash of absinthe in the mix; looking back, a gin, vermouth, and pineapple combination with Herbsaint was rather delightful in the Beaux Arts, so perhaps that recommendation for a Checkers variant would be quite tasty.