milo

2/3 Bacardi (1 3/4 oz Privateer Silver + 1/4 oz Rhum Clement Agricole)
2 dash French Vermouth (3/4 oz Noilly Prat Dry)
2 dash Grenadine (1/4 oz)
1 dash Ojen Bitters (20 drop St. George Absinthe)

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass; I added a grapefruit twist.
Two Saturdays ago, I reached for Pioneers of Mixing at Elite Bars: 1903-1933 after dinner. There in the rum section was the Milo that reminded me of the Atta Boy from the Savoy Cocktail Book but with rum and a dash of absinthe in place of the gin (or like Pioneers' Cuban with rum instead of gin and Maraschino). Once built, the Milo proffered grapefruit oil over grassy rum and berry notes to the nose. Next, cherry and white wine elements on the sip gave way to grassy rum, cherry, and pomegranate flavors on the swallow with an herbal finish.

:: we've all got to start somewhere ::

First published on the USBG National blog in May 2019.

The recent USBG Northeast Regional Conference in New Haven brought up an amusing personal anecdote about the city in regards to drinking. I grew up nearby in Milford, CT, and throughout high school, I was never part of the drinking culture due to my mom being rather strict and the threats of punishment too severe. During the summers, I worked at a day camp, and for my 18th birthday, two of the older counselors decided to take me out on the town in New Haven a month or so before I left for college. One of the early stops on the adventure was at the Vietnam Memorial in New Haven Harbor. There, one of the guys brought out Peachtree Schnapps, orange juice, and convenience store wax paper cups. Overlooking Long Island Sound, I had my first mixed drink – a Fuzzy Navel of all things.

Throughout college, I mostly stuck to beer with some forays into wine and occasionally a punch if that was what the only thing available at a party. But my vocabulary regarding asking for mixed drinks was not developed in the least. After college, I soon learned that requesting a Sour was not too bad, and Amaretto Sours went down pretty easily (even if they are more likely to give you a sugar high over getting you inebriated). Moreover, bartenders did not seem to mind making them especially when Sour Mix came in a bottle or was off the soda gun. When I fell into the Boston club scene, I learned that the main bartender at one place had several drinks that people requested with interesting names like the Mind Eraser or Red Death that she enjoyed making. While the components of the former were known, the latter was a well-kept mystery. One night, I ran into one of the sales reps who used to visit me at work (a non-restaurant job), and he offered to buy me a drink. It was phrased to suggest a mixed drink instead of a beer, and I panicked and asked him to get me a Red Death. He replied, “A what? No, I’ll buy it for you but I just want to know what’s in it.” I replied, “I don't know, it’s red, it’s strong, and everyone orders them from Terri the bartender.” At that point, I realized that I needed a more business appropriate drink.

I decided that I needed to learn how to drink a Manhattan. It was probably more Tom Waits songs than Charles Bukowski books that steered me in that direction, but somehow I knew that this was going to be my drink. So the next time that a friend inquired if he could buy me a mixed drink, I asked the bartender for a Manhattan. I remember freezing when she countered, “What whiskey?” I had no clue that I needed to be so specific. After a moment, I unfroze and unsurely blurted out, “Maker’s Mark,” and then turned to my older, wiser friend - “I did alright?” He agreed and said that it was indeed a whiskey and in fact a good one to make a Manhattan with. Luckily, the bartender did not ask me a litany of other questions using terms that I did not know at the time like, “Up or on the rocks?” Given my sweet tooth at the time, “A cherry or a twist?” would have been a no-brainer, but this was certainly uncharted territory, and I was learning the hard way – through figuring out how not to embarrass myself instead of being guided by the bartender or a friend.
I used this sense of confusion later when I became a bartender to alleviate stress in a guest by giving them an easy out. With a Martini, the questions could be numerous like gin or vodka? What brand? Olive brine or vermouth? How dirty or dry? Shaken or stirred? Up or on the rocks? Olives or twist? If I noted any lack of confidence, I would quickly suggest before all of the questions began, “I rather enjoy my Martinis with two parts of Beefeater to one part of dry vermouth with orange bitters and a lemon twist in a cocktail glass, but I can make it which ever way you’d like.” All of the sudden, taking an order was an act of empathy instead of merely commerce, and on the upside, drink orders came more quickly since the guest did not hem and haw over the confusing possibilities. Plus, if the guests opted for my way, they learned to drink better in my eyes.

I have been taught a lot about not embarrassing a guest when cutting them off and trying to get them to leave, but it is rare that I hear or read anything about how to get a drink order out as an act of compassion. All too often we expect our drinkers to know what they would like from experience, but even that can keep them in their liquidy ruts. However, when they do not know, it can be panicky – especially if they are on a date, with business associates, or with others whom they need to impress. And plenty are sensitive enough that the act of being confused alone is something that can sour the evening. While some of the rougher sort will just bark out, “Just make the darned drink!” to avoid the questions, the quieter sort might feel less welcomed by the questions. Getting a verbal drink order out of a guest can and should be an exercise in benevolence. Even on drink menus, all too often novices (whether to imbibing in general or to craft cocktails specifically) freeze up by obscure drink terms and ingredients. Learning to talk about menu items in a few simple words can guide them out of this maze; even carefully constructing the menu will not work with every guest, but it certainly will help.

As the craft cocktail renaissance hits its second or third wave, we have become too used to the guest who does not want their Negroni as an equal parts drink and inquires what vermouths the bar carries to best make their target flavor profile. Thus, we have come to anticipate advanced knowledge in our guests, and we can forget that many times some one is just there to be with their friends and has not figured out the exact verbiage or even drink styles that suit them. Be aware, and be the guide.

While I never made it out to the monument in New Haven Harbor that weekend to relive my youth, that weekend I did win a bottle of Crown Royal Peach in a raffle. One of my USBG chapter mates commented that I could at least have a peachy New Haven memory whenever I wanted now. A sip would definitely harken back to the days when the biggest decision was - “yes or no?” instead of the more stressful “What do you want?” and “How you want it?” Remember that what is in the glass should be a non-stressful decision, for it is not necessarily why they are even gathering that evening. Cheers to drinking better, but remember the road that took you there!

don's special 151 swizzle

1 1/2 oz Puerto Rican 151 Rum (Don Q)
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1/4 oz Passion Fruit Syrup
1/4 oz Honey Syrup
1 dash Peychaud's Bitters

Build in a tall glass, fill with ice, swizzle to mix and chill, and garnish with a mint sprig. Sub another mild Caribbean 151 rum if Puerto Rican 151 is not in your inventory.

In thinking about the 151 Swizzle Challenge, I decided to craft my own after making the mid-century classic recipe. In contemplating a sweetener, I bandied about ideas of coffee liqueur, crème de cacao, Benedictine, and passion fruit syrup. Andrea seemed to like the passion fruit idea, and I took the passion fruit and honey syrup combination from Don's Special Daiquiri along with its Puerto Rican rum to combine into Don's 151 Swizzle. For bitters, I merged the anise of the Herbsaint and with the drying power of Angostura in the original, and I selected Peychaud's. It turns out that the combination bears some resemblance to Beachbum Berry's Hart of Darkness albeit with a different rum, lemon in addition to lime, some soda water, and no bitters or garnish.
Don's Special 151 Swizzle proffered mint and passion fruit notes to the nose. Next, lime mingled with honey on the sip, and the swallow showcased rum, passion fruit, and anise flavors.

no vermouth in duluth

1 1/2 oz Fino Sherry (Lustau)
3/4 oz Oloroso Sherry (Lustau)
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1/2 oz Pineapple Syrup
1 dash Regan's Orange Bitters
1 dash Peychaud's Bitters

Shake with ice, strain into a Highball glass, fill with crushed ice, and garnish with a mint sprig.
Two Thursdays ago, I returned to Imbibe Magazine to make a year old recipe called No Vermouth in Duluth. I had skipped over Sam Mattenson's recipe that he crafted at Porchlight in Manhattan since I had lacked Fino sherry in my collection until a few months ago, and now it was time to make this Sherry Cobbler riff (even if I would describe it more as a Sherry Fix given the pineapple syrup). Once assembled, the No Vermouth in Duluth's nose was dominated by the freshly picked mint sprig. Next, lime and grape on the sip slid into nutty, savory, and pineapple flavors on the swallow.

wicked behavior

1 1/2 oz Bourbon (Old Granddad Bonded)
3/4 oz Pineapple Juice
1/4 oz Elderflower Liqueur (St. Elder)
1/4 oz Aperol
1/4 oz Honey Syrup
1/4 oz Lemon Juice

Shake with ice, strain into a cocktail coupe, and garnish with an optional dehydrated pineapple slice (omit).
Two Wednesdays ago, I decided to make the Wicked Behavior that was published in Imbibe Magazine; this Whiskey Sour of sorts was crafted by Ariana Vitale at Rider in Seattle. In the glass, the Wicked Behavior offered up a Bourbon, honey, and floral nose. Next, pineapple and orange filled the sip, and the swallow gave forth whiskey, bitter, and floral flavors.

151 swizzle

1 1/2 oz Lemon Hart or Hamilton's Demerara 151 Proof Rum (Lemon Hart 151)
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1/2 oz Simple Syrup
1 dash Angostura Bitters
6 drop Pernod or Herbsaint (St. George Absinthe)

Flash blend with 8 oz crushed ice for 5 seconds, and pour into a flared metal Swizzle cup (build in a Julep cup, fill with crushed ice, and swizzle to mix and chill). Garnish with a cinnamon stick and freshly grated nutmeg.

Two Tuesdays ago, I met the call for the 151 Swizzle Challenge. The challenge was the rebirth of a series started by Instagrammer El Nova that fizzled out at the end of 2015, and he described this year's inaugural event as, "Here's the first challenge of 2019. The 151 Swizzle Challenge... The rules are simple. Make a 151 Swizzle using the original recipe or come up with your own mix. Hashtag it, post it up, but most of all make your swizzle shine. Cheers and good luck!" Since I had never had the original, I started with Don the Beachcomber's recipe (attributed to his bartender Tony Ramos) that Beachbum Berry shared in the Grog Log and Remixed books and later on his site, instead of making up my own or delving into the more spice-driven Mai Kai and Tiki-Ti versions. I probably passed over this recipe on numerous occasions for fear that the drink would come across as too hot, but it was time to experience it first hand. For the rum, I made use of an older Lemon Hart 151 rum circa 2012, and I utilized a swizzle stick to mix the drink instead of a blender.
The 151 Swizzle's garnishes offered up much of the nose with cinnamon and woody spice aromas. Next, lime and the rum's caramel mingled on the sip, and the swallow came through with rum, cherry wood, allspice, and anise flavors. While I was expecting the sip to be rather potent, the dilution through swizzling tamed this into a relatively easy to drink number (albeit with a surprising 2.8 oz equivalent of 80 proof spirit).

rum jumbie

1 1/2 oz Light Virgin Island or Puerto Rican Rum (2 oz Don Q Añejo)
2 oz Pineapple Juice
2 oz Orange Juice
1/2 oz Grenadine
1/2 oz Lime Juice

Stir with ice in a tall glass (whip shake, pour into a Tiki mug, fill with crushed ice, and garnish with a mint sprig).
Two Mondays ago, I wanted to make use of this season's mint that had reappeared along the boarder of my garden plot. Therefore, I delved into Trader Vic's 1972 Rum Cookery & Drinkery and found a drink, the Rum Jumbie, that seemed amenable to a mint sprig garnish. Overall, the combination came across like a more pineapple and orange juice-forward precursor of the 2002 Sven Tiki. Once mixed, the Rum Jumbie donated caramel and fruity aromas under the mint bouquet. Next, orange, lime, and pineapple swirled on the sip, and the swallow shared rum, berry, and pineapple flavors. Overall, the Rum Jumbie was not all that tricky and instead was rather refreshing.

powhatan

1 drink Dubonnet (2 oz)
2 dash Benedictine (1/2 oz)
2 slice Orange

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass; I added an orange twist.

Two Sundays ago, I began flipping through a digital copy of Jere Sullivan's 1930 The Drinks of Yesteryear: A Mixology that was a retrospective of drinks made before Prohibition. The book came up when I was searching for Dubonnet and Crème Yvette recipes when developing the Zaza d'la Whore recipe earlier in the week. Instead of the Lee Cocktail of equal parts gin, Dubonnet, and Crème Yvette in those pages, I was lured in by the Powhatan that had Dubonnet shaken with Benedictine and orange slices. Shaking with orange slices is something that has surfaced recently in drinks like Sam Ross' Too Soon?, but it also appeared a century before in recipes like Ensslin's Before the Bell. The Powhatan recipe was attributed as "A Virginia Congressman's creation," and Powhatan was the Indian chief that met the English settlers at Jamestown in 1607 and was the father of Pocahontas.
The Powhatan welcomed the nose with bright orange aromas over berry notes. Next, grape and cherry on the sip led into cherry, chocolate, orange, and minty herbal flavors on the swallow with an orange peel bitterness on the finish.

perfect circle

1 1/2 oz Campari
1 1/2 oz Fino or Manzanilla Sherry (Lustau Fino)

Chill in a Collins glass in the freezer. Add 3 oz dry sparkling wine (Gloria Ferrer Brut), add ice, and garnish with an orange wheel (orange twist).
Two Saturday nights ago, we were drinking a bottle of sparkling wine with dinner. Andrea wondered if we should save the last glass for that night's cocktail, and I remembered a few champagne recipes in Maggie Hoffman's Batch Cocktails book. In that collection, I spotted a recipe from Paul McGee and Shelby Allison of Lost Lake that was not a tropical libation but a sherry riff on the Americano called the Perfect Circle, and I adapted the 8 serving pitcher drink to a single serving one listed above. In the glass, the Perfect Circle offered an orange and white wine bouquet to the nose. Next, a carbonated wine sip led into bitter orange followed by dry savory flavors on the swallow.