Becherovka has been unavailable in our area for quite some time.  I think that hit Phred at Elemental hard; he makes a variation on a classic Manhattan using it.  I found some in Sodo last week and snagged a couple of bottles to experiment with.  It tastes a bit of cloves.  I have no idea what I’m going to do with two whole bottles.  Next month’s party may have to feature a clove punch.

This is something I threw together for a test drive.  It wasn’t a bad drink for a summer evening.  Plus, I got a rather pretty picture of it.

Добрый вечер (Dobri Vyetcher, roughly)

1.75 oz gin (I used Martin Miller’s)
half a lime, cut into quarters
.5 oz Becherovka
two dashes of Arak (though you could use absinthe / herbsaint / pastis)
top with tonic

Muddle the limes and the Becherovka.  Add the Arak (or whatever).  Shake hard with ice and pour the whole thing in a Collins glass.  Add more ice if necessary.  Top with an ounce or two of tonic, to taste.  Go out on the porch, soak up some sun, pretend you’re reading the New Yorker, sip, and fall asleep on the chaise lounge.

If you hadn’t guessed already, this is just a froofy gin and tonic.  That’s what happens when you have a froofy liquor cabinet.  Also, cherries have nothing to do with it.  They’re just pretty.  And delicious.  And now eaten.

вечер, roughly prounounced “vee-et-cher”, is the Russian word for evening, which is as good a time as any to enjoy this drink.  Every time I try to say Becherovka, I end up turning the B into a V – a lowercase ‘b’ in Cyrillic is pronounced as a V.  That’s a long way of saying I’m an idiot and can’t pronounce my ingredients properly.  Whatever.  Добрый вечер.  (Good evening.)

A mysterious glowing orange ball has been appearing in the sky lately.  It must be our yearly week of sun in Seattle.  Makes you want to break out the fruity rum drinks, yes?  Hell, watching the laundry go round makes me want to break out the fruity rum drinks.  Let’s get right on that.

Shiso Mojito

2 oz white rum (I like Cruzan)
1 oz lime
.75 oz simple syrup
one sprig shiso leaf / three big leaves
splash of club soda

Throw everything but the soda into a shaker. Add lots of ice. Shake the hell out of it and scare your poor jumpy dog. Pour it all into a Collins glass. Top it with the soda. Offer it to poor jumpy dog with a straw. Say no when he asks for a bully stick garnish.

This is an easy one to do if you have a limited bar.  Yes, you can use the traditional mint.  But where’s the fun in that?  This has a much more subtle and unique flavor.

Shiso is indeed a type of mint.  You usually find it used as a garnish in Japanese cuisine.  Some types of sushi use it.  Hamachi is delicious with shiso and a bit of lime.  It can be a bit hard to find, but a lot of Asian grocery stores have it, like Uwajimaya out here in the Seattle area.  Me?  I’m growing it in the greenhouse this year.  Why?  Hint:  I have no clue how to make sushi properly.

Kanpai!

So I’m hitting the herbs.  Specifically, the sage we have growing in the greenhouse.  Here’s a recipe from Brooke Arthur out of the Left Coast Libations book.  (Buy it!)  I have all the stuff to make it, I took today off, it’s sunny, I got up at 5:30am to go to the gym, and dammit, life is good.  Cocktail time!

Evergreen

Four kumquats (they’re in season!)
Four large sage leaves
1.5 oz Plymouth gin (or pick your favorite dry gin)
1 oz St Germain liqueur
.5 oz lemon

Muddle the kumquats and three of the sage leaves with the lemon juice.  Bash ’em up real good.  Add the other ingredients, and (according to Brooke) shake hard, 20 times.  Double-strain this one into a frosty cocktail glass.  Use the other ridiculously ginormous sage leaf to garnish.

I really dig this one.  It’s got a grapefruit-pineapple tartness that’s balanced very well with the lychee-esque St Germain.  Maybe the pineapple is because the only sage I have in the greenhouse is pineapple sage.  <shrug>  It works well, but any fresh sage  you can get your hands on will be fine.

I have no idea why it’s called the Evergreen.  Maybe Brooke originally created it at 4:20.

Got The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks by David Embury today.  If I get through this one, I think I graduate from farter-around to dilettante.  Since it’s my current crush, I was determined to find something new and interesting to do with Cocchi Americano tonight.  Cracked open the book to a random page, and what d’ya know…

Self-Starter

3 oz gin (I used Plymouth)
2 oz Cocchi Americano
1 oz apricot brandy


Get out a big-ass cocktail glass, stir, strain, and lament your stupid expensive hobby. The recipe actually calls for a 3:2:1 ratio of the ingredients, but hell. This one is good. Three ounces of gin won’t kill you, and I can’t do math.

The original version of this one called for Kina Lillet, but as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, this is no longer available. Cocchi Americano is close enough.

If anyone reads this thing, yell if you have requests for specific recipes / ingredients / tastes.  I swear I make drinks that DON’T have Cocchi Americano. too.

Out of perhaps 120 bottles in our collection, two are vodka. One was a gift. The other we bought accidentally, mistaking it for a bottle of Dry Fly gin.

Now I know their are legit vodka connaisseurs out there. Apologies in advance. But we generally think of vodka as liquor for people who don’t like the taste of booze, but who want to get drunk.  I’m in it for the opposite reasons.  (Yes, it’s a good trick to be a cocktail geek and avoid getting sloshed.)

Anyway, here’s a classic for which we popped the Dry Fly vodka.

The Vesper

3 oz dry gin
1 oz vodka
.5 oz Lillet blanc or Cocchi Americano

Stir with ice and strain.  Garnish with an overly dramatic lemon twist.  Call a taxi.

This one, of course, originates from Ian Flemming’s Casino Royale.  It was ‘invented’ by James Bond and named for Vesper Lynd, his equally fictitious love interest.  Yes, yes.  Shaken, not stirred.  Stir it, dammit!  I want this one clear and free of ice chips.  Sue me.  But it’s a matter of taste.

The original recipe called for something called Kina Lillet, which is no longer available.  Lillet reformulated their stuff in the 80s and took out its quinine-ish bitter component.  You can make it with today’s Lillet blanc just fine, but for something closer to the original, try the Cocchi Americano.  It’s as close to Kina Lillet as we get nowadays.  I like its bitter edge.  I’m also fond of the overly large and obnoxious twist.  The lemon peel really adds to the drink.

Obligatory warning:  this is Don Draper-level octane.  I have to be in a serious dry, hard liquor mood, and even then, I can manage maybe half of one.  That bottle of Dry Fly vodka is going to be lasting us a looooong time.

I missed derby last night.  One of the girls goes by ‘Reanimate-Her’.  (Clever, but I prefer ‘Jalapeno Business’ in the bad name department.)  Anyway, she’s a joy to watch.  Slides like mercury between ‘Clam Slammer’ and ‘Muffstache’.  That sounds ruder than I thought it would.

To make up for missing our homegirls, here’s one of my favorite classic cocktails.

Corpse Reviver #2

.75 oz gin
.75 oz Cointreau
.75 oz Lillet Blanc
.75 oz lemon
Dash absinthe
Cherry

Combine everything except the cherry and shake hard enough to raise the dead.  Strain into a frosty cocktail glass.  Drop the cherry in and watch it drown.  Laugh maniacally.  It tastes better that way.

So you’re asking now, if you’re still reading, why is it called a Corpse Reviver?  Apparently, this one (and its cousin, the Corpse Reviver #1) were considered good ‘hair of the dog’ drinks.  You know.  That whole ‘cure your hangover by drinking more’ solution.  (That does, apparently, work, but personally, the last thing I want to look at if I’m feeling delicate is more liquor.)

Don’t have everything you need to make this one?  It’s worth a trip to the liquor store – the cocktail is THAT good – but if you have the gin, it shouldn’t cost you very much.  A bottle of Lillet Blanc will run you about $20.  Better yet, get yourself some Cocchi Americano for about the same price and substitute that.  Both can be consumed on their own as apertif wines.  Because, um, that’s what they are.  Cocchi Americano is particularly yummy, with a slight bitter edge.  And by the way, it’s pronounced COKE-ee.  Learned that after embarrassing myself several times.

About absinthe:  a lot of cocktails will call for a dash of this.  A decent bottle of absinthe will set you back at least $50, so if you’re just looking to add a bit to your drinks, you’ll be stuck with a big bottle of expensive that lasts 10 years.  You can substitute Herbsaint or a pastis for it; they’re a bit cheaper.  It’s a shame to leave it out – really ties the drink together – but it’s still a decent sip without it.

I’ve been posting a lot of drinks that involve ingredients most people don’t have, or are a bi-atch to make.  So here’s the first in a series of cocktails with ingredients that are easy to find and fairly simple to make.  It’s a classic Prohibition-era cocktail, named for the distance you had to go from shore to consume hooch legally.  Hooray for boats!

12 Mile Limit

(It’s prettier than I managed to capture in this crappy picture.)

1 oz white rum (I like Cruzan, and it’s cheap!)
.5 oz brandy
.5 oz rye (I like Bulleit rye, if you can find it, and it’s also cheap!)
.5 oz lemon
Pomegranate grenadine

Combine everything except the grenadine in a mixing glass.  Ice, shake, and strain into a cocktail glass.  Drizzle a dash or two of grenadine and garnish with a lemon twist.  Toast to Will Rogers, who once said “Prohibition is better than no liquor at all.”

Now about that grenadine.  Most of that stuff you’re going to find in the store is a hot sticky mess of high-fructose corn syrup and red dye.  Leave it on the shelf with the plastic maraschino cherries.

Real grenadine is made from pomegranates.  You can make your own from scratch, but that’s a total pain in the ass.  If you want an easier alternative, get yourself some POM juice and make a syrup with half juice and half water.  Even easier, but not nearly as good, buy a semi-decent brand.

If none of this works for you, no worries.  The drink’s still good without the grenadine, although you might want to add a little simple syrup to it to make up for the sweetness.  That’s just one part sugar to one part water, dissolved.

This one is a fine way to get your home bar started, if you don’t already have all the stuff to make it on hand.  You’ll get a lot of mile-age out of the components.  (Booo.)

Today’s subject: the cocktail fail.

Amateur mixology is a lot like being a teenager. You experiment. You do some uninformed, ballsy, and otherwise stupid things. If you’re lucky, your friends shut the hell up about your mistakes and reminisce fondly about your triumphs. I have the luxury of just throwing out crap that doesn’t work. But bar owners generally discourage their bartenders from doing this too often.

Today’s topic: diving catches (a.k.a., fix yo’ shit).

I’m no expert, but here’s what I’ve learned so far about cocktail improv.

  • Better to riff on some recipe you already like than try to reinvent the wheel.
  • If you have to invent your own stuff, keep a list of go-to flavor pairings.  I’ll share the ones that I’ve figured out so far soon.
  • St Germain fixes a lot of mistakes.
  • If all is truly lost, put it on the rocks.
  • If the rocks don’t fix it, put it on crushed ice.
  • If the crushed ice doesn’t fix it, add something carbonated.
  • If the sparkling wine / ginger ale / club soda / tonic doesn’t fix it, you’re fucked.

To that end, here’s something I screwed around with tonight that started out unpalatable, but ended up kind of nice.

Quaternion
Four kumquats
2 oz Cruzan white rum
2 oz sparkling wine
1 oz orange juice
.25 oz cinnamon syrup

Muddle the kumquats and the cinnamon syrup. Add the Cruzan and orange juice. Shake with crushed ice. Add a little additional crushed ice to a Collins glass, then pour the whole thing unstrained into the Collins glass. Add the sparkling wine and give it a gentle stir.  Stand behind the bar and look like you know what you’re doing.

If you’re keeping score, that’s crushed ice AND something carbonated. Shhhh.

Left Coast Libations is a seriously f’n beautiful read.  This year it’s been nominated for best cocktail book by Tales of the Cocktail. Someday I’ll go to that conference.  New Orleans.  Heaven.  I think I’ll line up a liver donor first.

Anyway, if you’re up for some adventure, there are quite a few recipes in there worth the considerable effort (and expense) they’ll generate.  My current crush:  Chris Ojeda’s Fragola e Aceto.  According to the book, Chris is at Varnish in LA, which has a great reputation.  Perhaps I’ll go if there’s not the typical LA ‘are you beautiful or famous enough to be here’ check at the door.  Name-dropping, vodka-chugging, $2,000 dress-wearin’, read-my-screenplay sayin’, headshot-shovin’ industry wannabes remind me of why I left town.

The Fragola e Aceto is not my recipe, so I won’t be reprinting it here.  (Buy the book.  It’s cheap.)  I will say that it involves a muddled strawberry, gin, simple syrup, lime, black pepper, balsamic vinegar, and basil foam.  Yup.  Basil foam.  I wanted this drink bad enough to make that shit.  It’s delicious.  It damned well better be, for the effort it takes.  Here’s what it looks like, if it’s made by someone who doesn’t know exactly what they’re doing.

Fragola e Aceto

I have two drinks on the books now that call for foam:  this one, and Jeffrey Morgenthaler’s margarita with Cadillac foam and sea salt.  I’ll be experimenting more.  Foams seem to add a nice counterpoint to whatever’s in the drink, and a wonderful texture.  You’ll need a whipped cream cannister to make them and a healthy disregard for the potential risks of consuming raw egg whites.  I will be buying some cream of tartar to add to the foam mixes in the future; the meringue-like mixtures break down pretty quickly after dispensing and look… icky.

Excuse me now, while I go find someone to chase off my lawn.

If you’re a fan of Fernet Branca, you’re probably either playing cocktails in expert mode or a good professional bartender. What does it taste like? Well, have you ever had Sen-Sen? No? You’ll just have to imagine a mouthful of licorice and violets, then.  It ain’t for everyone.

An equally cocktail-crazed friend was over this weekend, and she’s a Fernet fiend.  I merged an (undrinkable) Cynar recipe I’d found somewhere with half an idea from Monica at Needle and Thread to make this one.  It got consumed very quickly.

Flippin’ Brown Cow



1.5 oz Fernet Branca
.5 oz absinthe (ya really)
.5 oz ginger syrup
Five fresh red cherries
Whole egg
3 oz root beer

Sounds nasty, doesn’t it? You’ll have to trust me. It’s rul good.

Muddle the (pitted, fresh) cherries with the Fernet, absinthe, and ginger syrup. Two notes:

  • You can probably use brandied cherries if you have to. Cherries are only around for a few months of the year. Fernet is forever. You should probably use double the number if you have to go this route.
  • You don’t have to go through the pains of making ginger syrup.  The Ginger People make some really nice ginger juice.  Cut this half and half with simple syrup, and voila.  They make ginger syrup, too, but I wouldn’t use this.  It’s not strong enough.  Fit only for pancakes.

Once you’ve muddled all this, fine strain it (using a fine mesh strainer) into a mixing glass.  Pour it back into the shaker and add the whole egg.  Take the spring off your cocktail strainer (it’s ok, really – it’s easy to put back on) and drop it in the shaker.  Dry shake the whole thing like it’s your worst ex-boss.  Then put some ice in it and shake it some more.  Like your second worst ex-boss.

Put the spring back on your cocktail strainer and strain the whole damned thing into a rocks glass with ice.  Gently pour in the root beer.  Garnish with a couple brandied cherries if you feel like what you’ve already done isn’t weird enough.

Like politics, this one is best shared only with friends who swing the same way you do.