whirlpool julep

1 jigger Rye (1 1/2 oz Rittenhouse 100)
2 dash Bacardi (1/4 oz JM Rhum Gold)
2 dash Benedictine (1/4 oz)
1 tsp Anisette (1/6 oz Arak Razzouk)
5 sprig Mint

Lightly muddle the mint at the bottom of a Julep cup, add rest of ingredients and crushed ice, and stir until the cup is frosted. I garnished with additional mint sprigs and added a straw.

Last Friday, as I was flipping through our copy of Pioneers of Mixing at Elite Bars: 1903-1933, I spotted a Julep recipe that we had not tried before. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to get in another mint drink in case the impending snow storm killed off our mint patch and turned it into Tom & Jerry season. The fact that the Julep was rye based reminded me of a line I read in Richard Harwell's Mint Julep book; there he quoted a Kentucky humorist, Irvin S. Cobb, who said, "Any guy who'd put rye in a mint julep and crush the leaves would put scorpions in a baby's bed." Well, I am a Northerner and rye seemed like a legitimate spirit to use here; moreover, I was curious as to how the Benedictine and anisette flavors would play with the mint's.
While a mint garnish was not specified in the recipe (only muddled mint), it did add a wonderfully robust aromatic component. The sip presented the malt and barrel notes of the whiskey, and the swallow contained a lot of herbal flavors from the anisette that was complemented by the Benedictine and mint. Since there was not very much sugar in the drink to soften the spirit's heat (and less than intended since I used a dry arak instead of an sweet anise liqueur), a less aggressive rye than 100 proof Rittenhouse would have aided this drink.

paddington

1 1/2 oz Banks 5 Island Rum (El Dorado 3 Year)
1/2 oz Lillet Blanc (Cocchi Americano)
1/2 oz Grapefruit Juice
1/2 oz Lemon Juice
1 barspoon Orange Marmalade

Shake with ice and double strained into an absinthe-rinsed (Kübler) coupe. Garnish with a grapefruit twist.

On Wednesday last week, I opened up the new PDT Cocktail Book and selected the Paddington as the night's libation. The recipe was created by David Slope in Fall of 2008 after spending a bit of time mixing drinks under one of PDT's decorations, a taxidermied black bear of that name. I think I was drawn in by the marmalade and convinced by the absinthe rinse.
The Paddington proffered an absinthe, grapefruit, and lemon aroma that led into a complex citrus flavor on the sip. The swallow began with the rum and ended with light absinthe and marmalade notes, and the swallow ended a little tarter than the sip began. The marmalade in conjunction with the other ingredients came across almost as a Cointreau-like note, and thus, the Paddington had a Corpse Reviver #2 feel to it (albeit one that was more tart and citrussy and less botanically driven).

juan bautista

1 oz Macchu Pisco
1 oz Aperol
1/2 oz Cynar
1/2 oz Lustau Dry Oloroso Sherry
2 dash Fee's Whiskey Barrel Bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a rocks glass filled with fresh ice. Garnish with an orange twist.
For my second drink at Craigie on Main, I asked bartender Jared Sadoian if he had any drinks that he was working on. The one that he made for me was the Juan Bautista named after an Italian 16th century sailor and explorer Giovanni Battista Pastene who served under the Spanish crown. Pastene was hired to explore the eastern side of Central and South America, and he later served under Francisco Pizarro in Peru. To capture this bit of multinational history, Jared incorporated a Peruvian spirit, pisco, a Spanish wine, sherry, and Italian liqueurs, Aperol and Cynar.
Jared described the Juan Bautista as a loose spin on the Negroni. The drink began with an orange oil aroma over a fruity herbalness that seeped through. The sip presented a sweet grape flavor that combined well with the Aperol and pisco, and the swallow showcased the Cynar's bitterness and the sherry's nuttiness. As the ice melted, the Juan Bautista trended towards being more sherry forward on the sip; similarly, on the swallow, the bitter's cinnamon notes began to appear and the Cynar flavors became more pronounced.

monopatín

1 oz Lustau Fino Sherry
1 oz Rabarbaro Zucca Amaro

Stir with ice and strain into a rocks glass that was rinsed with mezcal and contains a large ice cube. Garnish the ice cube with a pinch of fleur del sel (sea salt).

Two Tuesdays ago, Andrea and I ventured down to Craigie on Main where Ted Gallagher and Jared Sadoian were tending bar. For my first drink, I requested the Monopatín from Jared, and I also asked for an explanation about the name as monopatín translates from Spanish into "skateboard." I assumed that it was bartender John Mayer's drink for his Texas roots often include a bit of Tex-Mex culture and Spanish vocabulary. Alas, I was wrong and Jared referred me to Ted who had created the drink. Ted denied having a skateboarding past or present; instead, he was inspired by Evan Harrison's Peralta named after famous skater Stacy Peralta. Moreover, he was also influenced by John Gertsen's Moto Guzzi both in its vehicular theme and in its equal parts format (equal parts Booker's Bourbon and Punt e Mes stirred with ice and strained into a rocks glass).
The Monopatín began with a smokey nose from the mezcal rinse and a dark herbal aroma from the Zucca. The sherry offered grape notes on the sip that were sweetened by the amaro's sugar content, and the Zucca's herbal quotient appeared on the swallow. When the salt melted the ice and dripped into the drink, the Monopatín got sweeter for the salt reduced the perception of bitterness. Since it was placed on top of the ice, there was a delay such that the first few sips were different from perhaps the last two thirds of the drink. Overall, the Monopatín seemed like it would make a wonderful aperitif which was Ted's intention in crafting the recipe.

el brioso

1 1/2 oz Blanco Tequila
1/2 oz Crème Yvette
1/2 oz Campari
1/2 oz Dolin Blanc Vermouth
1 dash Angostura Bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Twist an orange peel over the top and discard.

For a nightcap on Monday, I flipped through a few older Imbibe Magazine issues and spotted the El Brioso in the September 2009 one in a section on Crème Yvette drinks. While we had tasted this liqueur at Tales of the Cocktail two months before in July 2009, the article was premature for the liqueur would not be launched until spring 2010 in New York and California. It was autumn of 2010 before the spirit made its way to Massachusetts' shelves. Therefore, it was time to revisit these neglected recipes since we could now make them. The one that appealed most to me was created by John Gertsen of Drink. El Brioso, which translates to "the lively, energetic one," was inspired by the Rosita, and John used the Crème Yvette to balance the Campari's bitterness.
El Brioso greeted me with an orange aroma from the twist, and the Crème Yvette's sweet berry flavors were coupled with hints of citrus from the Dolin Blanc on the sip. The swallow began with Campari and tequila notes and ended with Crème Yvette's violet and the Angostura's spice. Indeed, the Crème Yvette and Campari balanced each other rather well in intensity and thus donated a cohesiveness to the sip-swallow transition.

san luca

2 oz Manzanilla Sherry
1 oz Tequila
1/2 oz Combier Orange Liqueur

Stir with ice and strain into a coupe glass rimmed with dried olive powder. Garnish with an orange twist.
Monday last week, Andrea and I went down to Estragon. For an aperitif before dinner, bartender Sahil Mehta made me the sherry-based San Luca. With its tequila component, the San Luca reminded me of the Lillet-based Metexa from the Café Royal Cocktail Book. The recipe also called for a dried olive rim which seemed odd at first until it added some elegant salty notes which worked well with the tequila. Moreover, the olive contributed greatly to the drink's aroma along with the orange twist. On the palate, the sip was a light grape flavor from the Manzanilla sherry, and the swallow showcased the tequila with an orange finish. Interestingly, the combination of the light sherry and the orange liqueur came across almost like a bianco vermouth. Overall, the San Luca made for a great aperitif due to the salt component preparing the mouth for food and to the lighter alcohol content.

3, 2, 1

1 1/2 oz Old Overholt Rye
1 oz Yellow Chartreuse
1/2 oz Martini & Rossi Dry Vermouth

Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.
For my second drink at Green Street, I asked bartender Philip MacLeod for the 3-2-1. The 3-2-1 is a drink I was revisiting, for I recall ordering one the first few times we went to Green Street back in 2007. Since then, I do not recall spotting this recipe anywhere other than in the bar's drink book, so I am unsure of its origins other than the name reflecting the proportions (*). A quick glance makes me think that it is a Yellow Chartreuse variation of sorts of the Green Chartreuse-laden Hague or St. Moritz. The 3-2-1 greeted my nose with a Yellow Chartreuse aroma of herbal and minty notes along with a touch of the rye whiskey. The sweet sip provided malt and a mild herbal flavor, while the bulk of the Chartreuse and vermouth flavors appeared later as a minty and intensely herbal swallow. The rye's barrel notes at the end functioned to dry out the drink a little. Moreover, after finishing the drink, it did seem in a way like a less bitter and more sweet Green Point.

(*) Post note 2/22/23: apparently this was indeed created at Green Street. Writer Robert O. Simonson inquired if Misty made its successor, the 4-5-6, at Brick & Mortar.

jack rose

1 1/2 oz Applejack
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
1/2 oz Grenadine
1 dash Peychaud's Bitters

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

Two Sundays ago, Andrea and I went to Green Street for drinks. For my first cocktail, I asked bartender Derric Crothers for the Jack Rose. While the drink is not much more than an Applejack Daisy (here with bitters) created in the early part of the 20th century, the recipe is rather symbolic for the Boston drink scene. In spring of 2005, the Jack Rose Society was formed with the task of sifting through the mass of drink books to find which recipe was the best of all. The scholarly crew consisted of drink historian Brother Cleve, then B-Side bartender Misty Kalkofen, Eastern Standard's Jackson Cannon, then Chez Henri's Scott Holliday, and then No. 9's John Gertsen. Their goal was to help Jackson put the very best recipe on the Eastern Standard's debut menu. After working through nearly two dozen recipes, they concluded that applejack, lemon juice, housemade grenadine, and Peychaud's bitters was best. The recipe on the Green Street menu, perhaps brought directly by Misty who worked there soon after from 2006 to 2008, is identical to their conclusion save for the applejack being decreased from two ounces to an ounce and a half.
The Jack Rose began with a lemon aroma that was joined by a fruity note from either the applejack or the grenadine. The tart lemon sip presented apple and pomegranate flavors, and the bitter lemon swallow led into lingering Peychaud's spices. Andrea commented that the lemon and grenadine worked rather well here for the former enhanced the tartness of the apple distillate and the latter restored the apple's sweetness.

port au prince

3/4 oz Barbancourt 5 Star Rum (Atlantico Reserva)
3/4 oz Amber Virgin Island Rum (Atlantico Platino)
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1/2 oz Pineapple Juice
1/2 oz Falernum (Velvet)
1/4 oz Simple Syrup (Jaggery)
6 drop (1/8 tsp) Grenadine

Shake with ice and strain into a rocks glass filled with crushed ice. I garnished with a lime shell and a Maraschino cherry. Note that the original recipe was a blender drink with 4 oz of crushed ice.

We were recently sent small samples of the Atlantico rum line -- just enough to do a tasting and make a cocktail. Atlantico rums are produced in the Dominican Republic using a combination of molasses and fresh cane juice, and they just added a white (Platino) and amber (Reserva) rum to their older Private Cask offering. When Andrea and I tasted the spirits straight, here were our thoughts:

Atlantico Platino - aromas of coconut and melon; flavors of vanilla with a sharper clove-like note at the end.
Atlantico Reserva - aromas of pineapple, caramel, slight fusel oil note, and vanilla; flavors of vanilla, tropical fruits, and coconut.
Atlantico Private Cask - aromas of coconut and lime; thinner on the sip than the Reserva with a lot of barrel-aged notes on the swallow.

Of the three, Andrea picked the Platino as her favorite and I leaned towards the Reserva as mine. While the Private Cask has some elegant wood notes, the 15+ years in wood has diminished some of the more intriguing fruit elements seen in the other two expressions. As for price, the Private Cask sells for around $35 a bottle, and I believe that the Reserve and Platino will be $25 and 20, respectively.
Since we are more cocktail people than straight spirits ones, it was time to mix with these rums. In Jeff Berry's Sippin' Safari, I discovered the Port Au Prince that felt like a good complement to the Atlantico Platino and Reserva's tropical fruit and spice notes. Berry attributed the recipe to Don the Beachcomber in the late 1930s; the drink appeared on some of his early menus but disappeared by 1941. While the city of Port au Prince is in Haiti, it is not all that far from the Dominican Republic. The drink itself possessed a lime aroma from the juice and garnish and prepared the taste buds for the sweet lime sip. The swallow showcased the grand combination of the pineapple, rum, and clove-driven spice notes.