hawaii cocktail

1 1/2 oz Plymouth Gin
1 oz Pineapple Juice
1/2 oz Simple Syrup
2 dash Fee's Orange Bitters
1 Egg White

Shake once without ice and once with; strain into a wine glass.

After the main four-way battle went down at the Woodward, Andrea and I departed for the crowd was getting rather densely packed. We, therefore, missed the consolation round showdown of John Gertsen versus Jackson Cannon as well as more complementary spicy Sailor Jerry punch and cans of Narragansett beer. Instead, we headed up the Red Line to visit bartender Derric Crothers at Green Street for a nightcap. The drink I ordered off of the large A-to-Z cocktail menu was one that I had danced around, the Hawaii Cocktail. I have had similar drinks including Stanley Clisby Arthur's State Street Cocktail and the herbaceous Celeriac from Left Coast Libations, but never Trader Vic's classic (albeit a slight variation from the one in the book). While those three pineapple juice-egg white drinks are gin based, Duffy does offer up the rum-based cousin, the Hawaiian.
Floating over the Hawaii Cocktail's frothy egg white and pineapple juice head was a fruity, pineapple aroma. A sweet, rich sip was followed by pineapple and gin flavors on the swallow. Moreover, the aftertaste was all about the orange bitters. The egg white donated a good deal of smoothness to make the Hawaii Cocktail a pleasure to drink.

union station swizzle

2 oz Eagle Rare Bourbon
1/2 oz Maraschino Liqueur
1/2 oz Apricot Liqueur
1/2 oz Lemon Juice

Add to a highball glass filled with crushed ice and swizzle to mix. Float Herbsaint and Angostura Bitters on top and add a straw.

Before heading over to the final edition of the Cocktail Wars at the Woodward two Sundays ago, Andrea and I stopped by Drink in Fort Point. One of the drinks that bartender California Gold made for me was something she created for her shift at the Patterson House in Nashville, Tennessee. She was down that way after taking a Bourbon tour, and one of her fellow Tales of the Cocktail apprentices invited her for a guest bartending shift.
Cali named the drink the Union Station Swizzle after a grand 19th-Century railroad station in Nashville that was restored and converted into a hotel. Back in the day, amidst the stunning Victorian architecture were two alligator ponds located on the track level! The Swizzle's aroma was dominated by the Herbsaint's anise-heavy aroma. A somewhat dry and fruity apricot and lemon sip was chased by rich Bourbon and funky Maraschino notes on the swallow. While not quite all that tropical, the Swizzle did fit in with the night's Tiki Sunday theme.

dead reckoning

2 oz Aged Rum (Appleton V/X)
1/2 oz Navan Vanilla Liqueur
1/2 oz Maple Syrup
1/2 oz Tawny Port (Sandeman)
1 oz Lemon Juice
1 oz Pineapple Juice
1 dash Angostura Bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a highball glass filled with cracked ice. Top with 1 oz of soda water. Garnish with a mint spring and a lemon zest spiral.

A week and a half ago, I spotted a collection of recipes from New York and San Francisco bartenders on the TastingTable website. On Friday night, after spying that our mint patch was resistant to the killing frosts we have recently experienced in the past few weeks, I decided that we should give Martin Cate's recipe from Smuggler's Cove in San Francisco a try. True, the recipe, the Dead Reckoning, could be made without a mint sprig garnish, but we wanted to experience it as Martin intended it.
The drink was the perfect accompaniment to that night's dinner of Isa Chandra Moskowitz's Tamarind Lentils recipe. The Dead Reckoning's mint and lemon peel garnishes contributed greatly to the drink's aroma. The rich rum was complemented by the maple and port on the sip, and this was followed by a pleasing vanilla and light spice flavor on the swallow. Thinking back, the maple and tawny port combination in Hungry Mother's No. 43 was also a quite solid one. Andrea commented that the drink was "pretty spectacular... and superbly balanced," so between it and the Tamarind Lentils dinner was a success!

masked booby punch

1 oz St. Germain
1 oz Gold/Aged Cachaça (Seleta)
1/2 oz Jasmine Green Tea, strong
1/2 oz White Grapefruit Juice
1/2 oz Lemon Juice
1/2 oz Ginger Syrup

Shake with ice and strain into a rocks glass (alternatively mix and chill in glass with ice). Twist a lemon peel and grapefruit peel over the top.

About two weeks ago, Andrea and I submitted a punch for the St. Germain Rock'em Sock'em Punch Bowl Brawl. Our punch made the top 3 cut to be served at the event out of a few dozen entries! The recipe we submitted was slightly different than the one above, but it was closer to how we intended it. The major difference beside scale and chilling with an ice block was the syrup. When we crafted the small scale sample, I made a ginger-citrus peel simple syrup which involved making an oleo saccharum with grapefruit and lemon peels and sugar. The concept was to extract the oils out of the peels and into the sugar to make an "ambrosial essence" of the fruits. David Wondrich in Punch traced back the process to a recipe written in 1670. After that, I grated fresh ginger and muddled it into the oil-soaked sugar before adding warm water to make the syrup. The effect was stunning when we did it at a small scale.

Unfortunately, when it came to competition time, my scale up on the ginger was wrong. I guesstimated how much ginger I initially grated, and perhaps the effects of scale up itself (can effect spices and bitters) might have played a role. Therefore, I recommend using a ginger syrup -- commercial or perhaps even homemade -- to standardize the process. While the oleo saccharum added an extra layer of citrus wonder to the drink, the hour extraction in sugar might deter many people from casually giving this recipe a try. Plus, over the large portion of citrus juice in the recipe, the oleo saccharum's effect only added a slight highlight of aroma.
Initially, we had submitted the punch to the boxing-themed event as the Palooka Punch. Given our base spirit of cachaça, we tried to figure out a good boxer or MMA star to name the punch after, but none of the Brazilian names seemed to make good drink names. Instead, we switched to boxing terms, and out of all the boxing terms, only "palooka" seemed to pair up with the word "punch" well. Later, we decided the definition of "an incompetent or easily defeated athlete, especially a prizefighter" was a bit too ironic. Instead, Andrea suggested that we switch to the fauna and flora of Brazil. Over brunch, we sat with our respective smartphones until I found the large, handsome sea bird, the masked booby. A "Masked Booby Punch" sounded rather kinky and in line with St. Germain's advertising campaigns using old erotica images and comparable to Emma Hollander's St. Germain sparkler, the One-Armed French Hooker.

For the competition, I ended up making the tea and the ginger-citrus peel syrup to bring to the event. The ginger -- the key weapon in our punch -- while seemingly strong in the syrup was way too subtle in the bowl. Moreover, as the ice cubes (instead of a large ice block) diluted the bowl's contents over the two hour span, the tannins in the tea became stronger in the balance as the other flavors were diluted away. Our St. Germain rep Kate even asked if I wanted to spike the bowl with Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur, but I figured that it should stay as is and also I feared the explosion that would occur if the two feuding brothers' product met (then again, for a fightsport theme, it would work). However, the cachaça still did a good job in assisting the tea and lemon juice in cutting down the sweetness of the St. Germain and syrup, so that aspect went as planned. In the end, we placed second.

glasgow

2 oz White Horse Blended Scotch
1 barspoon Caol Ila 12 Year Scotch
1 oz Noilly Prat Dry Vermouth
2 dash Peychaud's Bitters
1 barspoon Henri Bardouin Pastis

Stir with ice and strain into a rocks glass. Twist a lemon peel over the top.
For my second cocktail at Rendezvous, I asked bartender Scott Holliday for suggestions on my next drink. He mentioned that the restaurant's sous chef Ben rather likes the Glasgow; Ben learned about the drink in Esquire and was drawn to it when David Wondrich called it the Crispin Glover. Wondrich explained, "Only through the Glasgows of this world do the Manhattans truly become what they are. Without its Crispin Glovers, high school would not, in esse, be high school." Just like Ben, when I heard that it was the Crispin of Cocktails, I too needed to try one.
The Glasgow greeted me with a lemon oil aroma coupled with a briny, smoky Scotch note. A semi-mellow malt flavor on the sip was chased by smoke from the Scotch, anise from the pastis (the original calls for absinthe), and bitter notes from the vermouth and Peychaud's on the swallow. Lastly, the Glasgow was rather dry from the French vermouth combined with a lack of sweetener (save for the small amount of sugar from the barspoon of pastis). While the drink was an odd ball that could be made more standardized with sweet instead of dry vermouth or by the addition of a muddled up cube of sugar, it was definitely not the newer Crispin Glover vintage that casts a movie full of Down Syndrome actors or rats, but the earlier Back to the Future oddball days. To summarize the essence of the drink with a quote, Mr. Glover said, "I do like things that are not necessarily a reflection of what is considered the right thing by this culture. Somehow, promoting that status quo I find uninteresting."

rum scaffa

1 1/2 oz Plantation 5 Year Barbados Rum
1 1/2 oz Cynar
1 dash Angostura Orange Bitters

Stir without ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

Last Wednesday, Andrea and I went over to Rendezvous to have dinner and cocktails. For my first drink, bartender Scott Holliday wanted to show me one of the simple drinks (number of ingredients-wise) he had been working on. The Scaffa recipe above actually came later, for he served me the cocktail version first:

• 1 1/2 oz Plantation 5 Year Barbados Rum
• 1 1/2 oz Cynar
Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Twist an orange peel over the top.

The spirit plus Cynar essence of this drink reminded me of Aaron Butler's Scottish Play (although Aaron's drink has two addition ingredients as minor components). While I did not ask Aaron's rationale, Scott made the pairing for he liked the rich caramel flavor of the rum and how it emphasizes sweet flavors, so he therefore mixed it with something bitter. Scott's drink started with an orange nose paired with some dark undertones. A rum and caramel sip was followed by a rich and complex swallow. Moreover, the oils from the orange twist contributed a light Lillet-like citrus flavor on the sip. What was most odd was that it tasted drier on the sip and sweeter on the swallow; generally, drinks with bitter liqueurs finish in the opposite direction. Lastly, as the drink warmed up, the Cynar became more dominant in the flavor profile.
Scott mentioned that he enjoyed the initial experiment of mixing the rum and the liqueur at room temperature more than he did in the chilled cocktail itself. At that point, I brought up the Mixoloseum's Thursday Drink Night where the theme was Scaffas -- stirred, un-iced cocktails often as simple as a spirit, a liqueur, and a dash of bitters. Scott decided to mix up this cocktail in Scaffa format and pour it into cordial glasses for the three of us to try. Definitely, at room temperature and undiluted, the drink was a different beast. The Rum Scaffa was even more caramel and more intensely Cynar than the ratio of spirit to ice melt would suggest. In addition, the transition from sip to swallow had a better continuity of intensity and flavors, and I believe that all three of us concluded that while the cocktail version was delicious, the Scaffa form was superior.

great barrington

1 1/2 oz Berkshire Mountain Distillers' Ragged Mountain Rum
3/4 oz Bianco Vermouth
3/4 oz Cocchi Americano
1 dash Housemade Wormwood Citrus Bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a rocks glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.
Two Mondays ago, Andrea and I went to Deep Ellum after attending a reception for David Wondrich at Drink to celebrate his new book Punch: the Delights (and Dangers) of the Flowing Bowl. While one of the three punches at the event was rum based, I evidently was not tired of the spirit for I asked bartender Jen Salucci to make me the Great Barrington off of their menu. The drink was named after the town in western Massachusetts where Berkshire Mountain Distillers is located. On the nose, the Great Barrington started the drink's citrus wave with a lemon oil aroma. The citrus notes continued in the slightly sweet sip from the bianco vermouth and Cocchi Americano, and the swallow had a nice bitter finish with a rum aftertaste.

mary sharon

1 1/2 oz Chinaco Blanco Tequila
3/4 oz Martini & Rossi Bianco Vermouth
1/2 oz Mirto
1 dash Bittermens Mole Bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

For my second cocktail at Eastern Standard two Sunday nights ago, I asked bartender Josh Taylor if he had any new tricks up his sleeve. He thought I might be interested in the Mary Sharon and I became intrigued after I heard it was a variation of the "Sex in the City" classic, the Cosmopolitan, albeit an abstract one using Mirto liqueur instead of cranberry juice. Moreover, he mentioned that Avery Glasser of the Bittermens had a hand in the genesis of this recipe most likely similar to how he helped create Craigie's Bird Bath and Green Street's Avery's Arrack-ari. For a name, the myrtle berry liqueur's Sardinian origin prompted a Mediterranean theme; the cocktail became dubbed the Mary Sharon after Kristin Scott Thomas' character in Prince's 1986 movie Under the Cherry Moon.
The Mary Sharon's aroma was full of citrus oils but I was confused as to whether it was orange or grapefruit. When I asked Josh, he informed me that it was actually lemon and explained that the bounty of orange notes in the bianco vermouth was really that strong. Indeed, the vermouth presented a good amount of citrus peel flavors and the sip was a rather blood orange-Campari taste when combined with the Mirto. The minerality of the tequila and a hint of bitter orange came through on the swallow followed by chocolate from the mole bitters at the very end.

surbiton road

1/2 Lime (cut into wedges)
1 small handful Basil Leaves (~12)
1 oz Vanilla Rock Candy Syrup
1 oz Smith & Cross Rum
1/2 oz Cruzan Black Strap Rum
1/2 oz Punt e Mes

Muddle lime, basil, and syrup. Add rest of ingredients and ice, shake, and double strain into a rocks glass filled with crushed ice. Garnish with a basil sprig and a straw.

Two Sundays ago, Andrea and I went down to Eastern Standard for dinner and drinks. When bartender Naomi Levi came by to talk about cocktails, I asked if she had any basil to make me a drink that Devin Hahn of the Periodista Tales blog had told me about. When she heard the request for basil, she immediately knew what I wanted and ran off to see if she could find any in the kitchen. The drink was called the Surbiton Road after the street in Kingston, Jamaica, where the Italian Consulate is located. Her premise was to figure out what could be made in Jamaica given only two things that the Consulate could bring over from Italy. For those two items, she selected basil and the amaro-like sweet vermouth Punt e Mes.
The Surbiton Road greeted my nose with an aroma of basil and rum. The sip was a combination of the lime, funky pot stilled Smith & Cross, and molassesy Blackstrap rum flavors that were followed by vanilla from the syrup and both grape and bitter notes from the Punt e Mes on the swallow. The basil added greatly to the sip to make it more complex than the swallow. Overall, the Surbiton Road was a savory smash that was a good departure from the bar's more standard mint-based ones.