spectacle island

3/4 oz Unaged Rhum Agricole (Rhum Clement Premiere Canne)
3/4 oz Aged Domestic Rum such as Thomas Tew (Thomas Tew)
1/2 oz Lime Juice
1/2 oz Pineapple Juice
1/2 oz Madeira (Blandy's 5 Year Verdelho)
1/2 oz Green Chartreuse

Build in a Tiki mug, fill with crushed ice, and swizzle to mix and chill. Garnish with mint sprigs, freshly grated nutmeg, and an ignited spent lime shell containing overproof rum (El Dorado 151).

Two Tuesdays ago, I wanted to make a recipe from my new purchase of Chloe Frechette's Easy Tiki book, and I stopped my page turning when I came across the Spectacle Island. The recipe was crafted by Chantal Tseng of Washington DC's Petworth Citizen & Reading Room where Chantal and the staff are known for creating literary-inspired drink menus. This one besides being named for a Boston Harbor landmark was from a line in Neal Stephenson's 1988 novel Zodiac. The combination of rum, pineapple, Madeira, and Chartreuse reminded me of the Reverend Mather so I was game.
The Spectacle Island circled the nose with mint and nutmeg aromas. Next, grape, lime, and pineapple notes sailed into a swallow featuring grassy rum funk melding into Chartreuse's herbal flavors.

beekeeper

2 oz Bourbon (Four Roses Yellow Label)
1 bsp Honey Syrup (1/4 oz 1:1)
3 dash Angostura Bitters
2 dash Absinthe (1/2 bsp Butterfly)

Build in a rocks glass, add ice, stir, and garnish with a lemon twist.
Two Mondays ago, I was flipping through the pages of Michael Madrusan and Zara Young's A Spot at the Bar book when I came across the Beekeeper in the section on Old Fashioned riffs. While the combination appeared very much like a Sazerac, the lack of an absinthe rinse to overwhelm the nose later did not support that conclusion. In the glass, the Beekeeper instead of anise and spice notes reached the senses with lemon oil, Bourbon, and floral aromas. Next, malt and honey on the sip buzzed into whiskey, anise, and allspice flavors on the swallow.

strawberry fix

1-2 Strawberries, hulled and quartered
2 oz Bourbon (Old Grand-Dad Bonded)
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
3/4 oz Simple Syrup

Muddle strawberries at the bottom of a double old fashioned glass to make a jam, and top with crushed ice. Shake the rest with ice, strain over the top of the crushed ice, garnish with a fresh strawberry, and add a straw.
Two Sundays ago, I selected Sasha Petraske's Regarding Cocktails from my bookshelf, and I stumbled upon the Strawberry Fix that would make great use of the fresh berries that we had bought at the market. What surprised me was that the strawberries were not muddled, shaken, and strained with the rest of the ingredients, but they were muddled at the bottom of the serving glass and held in place by a mountain of crushed ice. Once assembled, the Strawberry Fix awoke the senses with Bourbon and strawberry aromas. Next, lemon and berry notes mingled on the sip, and the swallow came through with a delightful wave of whiskey flavors.

sinking stone

1 1/4 oz Koch Espadin Mezcal (Fidencio)
1/2 oz Plantation Jamaican Rum
1/2 oz Atxa Vino Vermouth Blanco (Dolin Blanc)
1/2 oz Cynar
1/4 oz Plantation Pineapple Rum

Stir with ice, strain into a rock glass with a large ice cube (coupe glass without ice), and garnish with an orange twist.
Two Saturdays ago, I ventured out of my house to safely buy Ivy Mix's Spirits of Latin America book from the Boston Shaker store (purchasable here via their web store). That evening, I opened the book and decided to make the first recipe that caught my eye -- the Sinking Stone that I believe is one of Ivy's originals from Leyenda in Brooklyn inspired by the Negroni. With mezcal, two rums, and Cynar in the recipe, I was sold. The Sinking Stone greeted the senses with an orange oil aroma that melded into the pineapple and smoky agave bouquet. Next, Cynar's caramel filled the sip, and the swallow proffered rum, smoke, and vegetal flavors.

necromancer

1 1/2 oz Rhum Agricole (Rhum Clement Premiere Canne)
3/4 oz Grapefruit Juice
3/4 oz Cocchi Americano
1/2 oz Velvet Falernum
1 dash Absinthe (12 drop St. George)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail coupe.
Two Fridays ago, I decided to make a recipe that I spotted on Kindred Cocktails sourced from a Punch Drinks article called the Necromancer. This was Vince Bright's Corpse Reviver #2 riff featuring rhum agricole that he crafted at Chicago's Lost Lake, and it reminded me of the Sinking Ship Swizzle that I did as a drink of the day back in 2016 (as a rhum Corpse Reviver crossed with a Royal Bermuda Yacht Club). Here, the Necromancer awoke with an apricot and peach aroma. Next, grapefruit and nectarine notes on the sip transformed into grassy rum flavors on the swallow that finished with ginger, anise, and clove.

shipwreck

1 oz Smith & Cross Rum
1 oz Linie Aquavit (Aalborg)
1/2 oz Pernod Absinthe
1/2 oz Blandy's 5 Year Bual Madeira (1/2 oz Blandy's Verdelho + 1/4 oz Simple Syrup)
1/2 oz Lemon Juice
1/2 oz Pineapple Juice
2 dash Miracle Mile Red Eye Bitters (Bittercube Jamaican #2)

Whip shake, pour into a double old fashioned glass, and fill with crushed ice. Garnish with a lemon wheel and a sprinkle of black sesame seeds (lemon wheel and chocolate mint sprigs).

Two Thursdays ago, I was in a Tiki mood, so I reached for David Montgomery's Zombie Horde book. There, I latched on to Jim Meehan's Shipwreck that he created at PDT in 2013. The Madeira in the Zombie riff appealed to me for I had tinkered with Madeiras in the Island of Lost Souls, and the aquavit was definitely a good thing given its role in the the Norwegian Paralysis, Viking Fogcutter, and Port of Göteborg. I probably had skipped over this one since I feared that the healthy slug of absinthe would dominate this libation, but I was wrong.
The Shipwreck met the nose with rum funk, tropical, and anise aromas that were accented by my choice of chocolate mint garnish. Next, lemon, pineapple, and grape mingled on the sip, and the swallow was an intense combination of funky rum, caraway, and herbal anise spice flavors. Given how burly the spirits in the mix were, they all seemed to keep each other in check.

youthful expression

1 oz Bourbon (Old Grand-Dad Bonded)
1 oz London Dry Gin (Beefeater)
1 oz Amaro Ramazzotti
2 dash Bittercube Cherry Bark Vanilla Bitters (Bittercube Most Imaginative Bartender Bitters)

Combine in a Collins glass, add ice, and stir to chill (combined and placed in the freezer for 30+ minutes). Pour seltzer down the spiral of a barspoon to fill (2-3 oz).
Two Wednesdays ago, I was in low energy mode, so I recalled the Youthful Expression in Sother Teague's I'm Just Here for the Drinks book that is built in the glass. Though time intensive, the effort to chill the combination in the freezer before adding the soda water was well worth it. Sother described the Ramazzotti in the mix as "the Dr. Pepper of the amaro world" with its cola, spice, and fruit notes, and the name implies that "This is the type of drink that, though sophisticated in flavor, harkens back to a simpler approach to drinking." Once prepared, the Youthful Expression greeted the nose with a pine, root beer, and Bourbon nose. Next, a carbonated caramel sip grew into pine and mint-root beer flavors on the swallow with American whiskey notes on the finish.

menehune juice

2 oz Trader Vic Light Puerto Rican Rum (Don Q Grand Añejo)
Juice of 1 Lime (1 oz Lime Juice)
1/2 oz Orange Curaçao (Pierre Ferrand)
1/4 oz Orgeat (1/2 oz)
1/4 oz Rock Candy Syrup (omit)

Whip shake, pour into a double old fashioned glass, garnish with a spent lime shell, a mint sprig, and a menehune (pea blossoms).

Around two weeks ago, Allan Katz, the owner of Las Vegas' Jammyland Cocktail Bar & Reggae Lounge (and not the New York distiller Allen Katz), went on a rant about the Mai Tai on Twitter; this should not be too surprising given that his profile reads "defender of the Mai Tai #deathtofalsemaitais." His rant was how the Mai Tai has been changed to remove its Jamaican roots, and how certain brands claimed solidarity with Black Lives Matter yet change the rum to their non-black island spirit. He argued that the Mai Tai was invented with a 17 year old Jamaican rum, and only its dwindling availability forced a change. While that rum is essentially no longer available, the base he argued needed to be Jamaican and not something other in the Caribbean. I commented that even Trader Vic knew that by calling his Mai Tai with Puerto Rican rum by a different name -- the Menehune Juice. I had never made this recipe for it appeared too similar to the Mai Tai itself, but now with this rant fresh in my head, I performed the experiment.
The Menehune Juice began to appear in the Trader Vic literature during the 1970s, and I sourced the recipe his 1974 Rum Cookery & Drinkery book. I then discovered that menehune are the flower mix in the Hawaiian lei, and I would later learn two things. First, that the menehune are mythological dwarf creatures believed by Hawaiians to live deep in the islands' forests and valleys. Trader Vic suggested that his drink would help find one by declaring, "You can't see or talk to a menehune until you drink some Menehune Juice. So drink some." The menehune here as a garnish was not a flower medley but a plastic toy or swizzle stick featuring this creature. Second, that the Mai Tai is not the same without a Jamaican rum. The Menehune Juice met the nose with a mint and lime aroma. Next, a creamy, lime, and caramel sip flowed into rum, orange peel, and earthy-nutty flavors on the swallow. Without the funk that Jamaican rum carries along, the drink was rather delightful but lacked any degree of pizazz.

lorikeet

2 oz Rittenhouse Bonded Rye
1/2 oz Giffard Banane du Bresil
1/4 oz Cinnamon Syrup
1 oz Pineapple Juice
3/4 oz Lemon Juice
6 dash Peychaud's Bitters
4 dash Angostura Bitters

Whip shake, pour into a Collins glass, fill with crushed ice, and garnish with an orange twist and pineapple leaves (honeysuckle blossoms).

Two Mondays ago, I was feeling the need for something tropical, so I selected Shannon Mustipher's 2019 Modern Tropical Cocktails book. There, I selected the Lorikeet as a Jungle Bird riff that subbed out the Campari and simple syrup for banana liqueur, cinnamon syrup, and two types of non-potable bitters. This stood out more to me than the base switching from rum to rye and the citrus from lime to lemon. Overall, the concept seemed delightful, and I was curious to see how Angostura and Peychaud's would perform in place of the Campari.
Lorikeets are colorful and vocal parrots found in Australia and New Guinea, so I figured that an exotic-looking floral garnish would work rather well here since I lacked a pineapple fruit to pluck leaves from. Once prepared, the Lorikeet flew to the senses with a pineapple, cinnamon, and banana bouquet. Next, lemon and pineapple mingled on the sip, and the swallow called out with rye, bitter banana, and bubblegum flavors and a cinnamon and anise finish.