Flor de Jerez

For a fraction of a second the ice cubes went completely airborne -- having left the scoop and not yet landed in the martini shaker.  When they did land, they did so as a single mass and clattered into the bottom of the tin.   Scoop buried to the hilt in the ice bin at the same time the shaker hit the bar at the end of a line of six bottles.

"AND THEN HE STARTS CALLING ME BARBARELLA!  BARBARELLA!!!  BAR-BAR-EL-LA!" Katie smacked out each syllable on her side of the bar.  The bartender just looked at her and nodded.  The corners of his mouth tugged upward in a small polite smile that never made it to his eyes.

"You're kidding," he said.  "And were you in a bar at the time?"

"YES I WAS IN A BAR --WE WERE IN A BAR.  THASHOWISTARTED...STARTED THE STORY..."  Katie took another pull from her margarita straw.  It took her two tries to get her hands to grab the heavy glass goblet.

"You were shouting in a bar, and he called you Barbarella," shaking his head, he put both hands on the bar like a couple of buttresses and locked directly onto Katie's eyes.  The sincerity was way over the top, walking right to the line of sarcasm.  "Men can be so cruel."  Then as if someone threw a switch, he went right back to his crafting.

"I KNOW!  RIGHT?!

"Katie, dear.  You're shouting.  The room just isn't that loud."

"AUNT GIIIIINA!" Katie squealed and tumbled off her barstool.  She bounced a bit in the knees, finding the floor a moment sooner than she anticipated.  Gina grabbed Katie just above both elbows and held her at arm's length to fix her with a reprimanding look.  "SORRY!  Sorry!" she staged whispered.  "Aun' Jjjina, I love you so much.  You are susha dear, dear friend.  Najus'to mom.  But tawallavus."

"I know, dear.  Now -- " Gina put an index finger to her lips and returned to her stool on the other side of Emma.  Katie mirrored the gesture.

The bartender picked up the stained bottle of Angostura bitters and shot it twice into the iced shaker.  Next he picked up the translucent plastic bottle, pointed it into the shaker and squeezed in some cane sugar syrup -1-2-3.

Gina slid back up onto to her stool.  More stage whispering.  "Wuzzeye shouting?"

Next the large plastic juice jug.  1and-2and- of fresh lemon juice.  "A little bit."

"Who is he to be calling me Barbarella, anyway?  He wasn't so hot.  I mean, really?  Lookh at me.  I don't lookhlikea... CAVEWOMAN!"

From the tall, slender bottle the bartender dispensed a quarter ounce of apricot liqueur into the shot glass.    Then he picked up the bottle of sherry.  He preferred the higher end Amontillados for his sherry-based bevs.  A full jigger splashed over the ice.  Finally, the half ounce of reserved rum.  He put the lid on the tin and began shaking.  "You have no idea who Barbarella is, do you?"  She giggled into her margarita which meant no.  "So what's up with your mom?  Why is she so sad?"

"Tchh," Katie rolled her eyes so hard he practically heard them thunk against the back of her skull.  "She and my dad finally split.  She acts like she's entitled to lifetime happiness or something.  So now her life is over and we all gotta stop what we're doing and take care of her.  Like my life is so perfect I need to take care of hers?  Spsh!"

"How long were they married?"  He strained the shaker contents into a coup.  Instantly, the glass generated a film of condensation that perfectly aligned with the liquid in the glass.  The cocktail glowed with the ambient tea lights like an amber jewel.  Flecks of ice floated to the top and coated the surface in miniature, glistening constellations.

"Idunno.  Something likh fortyears."

Another switch was thrown in the bartender, a tightly controlled mask sliding over his face as he intentionally avoided eye contact with anyone.  "That's a lifetime with someone.  I can understand how she might have a hard time adjusting."  He slid the coup with the jewel-like amber liquid towards Katie.  "Here, take a break from the margaritas for a minute."

"What's this?"

"It's called a Flor de Jerez.  I like to pair a drink to the customer's personality."

Katie concentrated to lift the delicate glass to her lips.  A stringent flowery vapor hit her nostrils well ahead of the glass touching her lips.  She took a sip and recoiled.  A curl wrinkled her nose and pinched her eyebrows.  "Oh my god!" she sputtered.  "What is this?" Suddenly she was more sober than only a second ago.

"I told you.  It's called a Flor de Jerez."

"It's so bitter."

"Really.  Guess I nailed it."  Katie looked at him, cocked her head and blinked.  She giggled into her Flor de Jerez which meant she didn't get it.

"Men can be so cruel."  The bartender looked in the direction from which the sarcasm flew.  A smiling Emma sat with her elbows on the bar and her fingertips gently grasping the top of her Brandy Alexander.  He smiled sadly.  She gave him a wink.



Flor de Jerez
1/2 oz. reserved rum
1 1/2 oz. Amontillado sherry
1/4 oz. apricot liqueur
3/4 oz. lemon juice
1/2 oz. cane sugar syrup
1 dash Angostura bitters

Pour all ingredients in an ice-filled shaker and shake until cold.  Strain into a coup.  No garnish.

Coffey Park Swizzle

The pic captures my mood this season.
Ambivalent and washed out when it comes to the holidays.
But the Coffey Park Swizzle is a bright spot of warmth and color.

The Holidays.  Or, the Holla-daze.  I'm finding myself a bit ambivalent about the season of light and gifting now that Thanksgiving is over.  So, I thought a cocktail that tasted like a North American Christmas would help me rally.  Isn't it funny how the flavors of a northern winter are downright Caribbean?  All those warm spices like nutmeg and clove and allspice and ginger.  I don't know whether I want to build an edible house, bake cookies shaped like amorphous little men, or make jerk chicken.

The Dilettante sat down with Death & Co. over morning coffee to cruise the text looking for just the right sipper to suit the mood.  (At this point I'm feeling the need to reassure that even though he was looking at a mixology text while enjoying his morning cuppa, the Dilettante does not have a problem.  Well, let's qualify that.  The Dilettante does not have a problem with booze.  Several other categories are up for grabs!)  Leafing through the pages I came across a whole section of swizzles.  Interesting, but not necessarily what one thinks about as a winter beverage since swizzles are typically served in pilsners filled with crushed ice.  Think adult snow cone.  That's summer rooftop, right?  But then Coffey Park Swizzle caught my eye and the taste buds began to imagine.  This could be just the cocktail to jump start my mood for the winter season.  But first I needed to do some shopping and then just a bit of advance prep before Happy Hour!

Such an interesting mix of ingredients -- both familiar and new.  Even as we were taking our first sip, I really didn't know if this was gonna play out.  All the ingredients -- sherry (recalling that classic short story, "The Cask of Amontillado"), French Caribbean rum, lime juice, ginger syrup, the exotic new Falernum, bitters -- each on its own was so good.  But mixed incorrectly, this could easily wind up being a tall cold glass of soap.

There is a lot to sort out in that first sip.  The words "interesting" and "I don't know" immediately followed it.  The Partner and I stood in front of the tree, warily eyeing each other.  We couldn't even sit down, locked in place by that first sip, impish smirks on our faces as we processed what our taste buds were telling us.  I wanted to like it, so, the next sip.  Processing.  By the third, we knew we had a winner.  Cold, wintery, refreshing and spicy.  A little ginger syrup goes a long way.  So much so that our lips were still tingling in the cab on the way to dinner after only one round.  And one round is really all an imbiber should attempt.  A tall, cold aperitif that morphs as the crushed ice melts and nuances the drink's complexity.  In fact, the Coffey Park Swizzle put us very much in mind of the Bourbon Squash which has become one of our summer go-tos.  So summer swizzle, winter swizzle. Coffey Park could be the featured cocktail on the bar until spring.

Coffey Park Swizzle
1 oz. rhum*
1 oz. sherry
1/4 oz. Falernum
3/4 oz. lime juice
3/4 oz. ginger syrup
3 dashes Angostura bitters

Mix the first 5 ingredients in a shaker with only a few pieces of crushed ice and shake just until cool.  Strain into a pilsner filled with crushed ice and swizzle**.  Add the bitters and blend it down through the drink, swizzling and stirring to do so.  Garnish with mint sprig.



*: Rhum or rhum agricole is the French Antilles version of rum, made from cane sugar as opposed to cane molasses.  If you can't find the former, feel confident substituting the latter.

**: The verb swizzle means to stir by spinning a stirring stick between both hands while drawing it up and down in the glass.  The noun swizzle or swizzle stick is not what we think of today as a stir stick.  It's more like a muddler with a set of short spines coming perpendicularly off the bottom.  So when it spins it creates a bit of a vortex to mix.  A regular stir stick will not do this effectively.  If you can't find a swizzle stick, you can get the job done pretty well with a long bar spoon.

Smoky Grove

PDT Interview

Personal preferences: Something new & warming
Style of drink: cocktail
Spirit of choice: whiskey, bourbon, brandy
Last drink: Siesta

Despite the fact that I've stumbled upon the tactic of letting The Partner select the tip, I thought I'd do a little reconnaissance earlier in the day. I was gonna run it past him, but ... nah.

While I was prepping, he snuck a peak over my shoulder at the Smoky Grove, "Hmmm...interesting." Still, I think it's something he'll like.

Made with a single malt scotch, this bev comes by it's name honestly. It's a mouthful of smoky peat. The charred orange twist only adds to the effect. It's not unpleasant, but it is powerful. At first one might expect it to be rough, but despite the smokiness, it's nice and smooth with notes of vanilla & orange (so The Partner detected). Just like one ought to do with a good scotch, this is a sipper, maybe one or two before dinner, no more. The rave of the night? The Partner: "This is good. I could have a couple of these. It's my kind of drink: not overly citrusy or acidic. Nice and smooth & smoky. I like it."

Validation. Date Nite can proceed.


Smoky Grove

2 oz. single malt scotch whisky
1/2 oz. sweet vermouth
1/2 oz. dry vermouth
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash orange bitters

Stir ingredients in a mixing glass over ice. Serve in a chilled coupe. Garnish with a flamed orange twist.

Cocktail Chat-Bitters

Bitters today

So if you've landed here from the link in the Martinez entry, you know that this Cocktail Chat is a result of the research I had to do to find out exactly what Boker's bitters are.  In doing so, I thought I'd also post some interesting cocktail trivia about bitters in general given they're such the rage these days.  

If you've spent any time in a trendy drinking establishment lately, you know that bitters are the hipster fetish du jour.  You can see evidence of the fad in even the most bare bones liquor stores.  Not long ago, Angostura bitters would be all you found, with Peychaud or orange bitters -- if you were lucky -- in the more "withit" shops.  Now you can walk into almost any liquor store and find shelves of bitters ranging from Aztec chocolate to "Tiki" -- whatever the hell that would be.  From the sublime to the ridiculous.  Gotta love a trend.

In general, bitters are infusions of herbs, spices, roots, and fruits with alcohol. They started out in the 19th century as tinctures and marketed for their purported health benefits.  Eventually, their use migrated to the mixological arts where they became exceedingly popular in drinking culture.  The lighter ones would be mixed with soda alone and served with ice.  Stronger ones were used in accents in more complex cocktails.  Their use in a beverage was the mark of elevated cocktailing and a bartender who knew what he was doing.  But, between the FDA lowering the boom on unproven medicinal claims and Prohibition, bitters were largely wiped out until only a few years ago.  Until the recent trend, Angosturas were the only kind available.

Sidebar: I for one, can testify to the curative powers of Angostura bitters.  Once, while out with friends in a crowded happy hour bar, I got a most debilitating and frustrating case of the hiccups.  I was the stereotypical drunk, sitting on my bar stool, wracked with intermittent convulsions accompanied by that telltale chirp that could be heard over the din of the bar.  My drink would slosh out of the glass if one hit while I was holding it, they were that bad.  I wasn't even drunk, for Pete's sake!  Embarrassed and uncomfortable, I was about to leave when the bartender approached me.  He saw me getting ready to take off when he motioned for me to sit.  He leaned over the bar:  "Hiccups?"

"Yeah."

He put his palm up to me in a sign to wait a moment.  His hands disappeared below the bar, working something in the well.  A moment later he slid a cocktail napkin across the bar to me.  On it was a lemon wheel with some amber liquid soaking into the top of it.

"Eat the whole thing.  Rind and all."

I did.  And as sure as I'm sitting here, the instant that thing hit my stomach I felt my diaphragm relax.  "What was that?"  I shouted.
"Lemon & bitters.  Works every time."  Cured, I didn't have another spasm the rest of the night.  To this day it's my go-to remedy for singultus!

Bitters bottles from back in the day

Back to my research on Boker's.  As it turns out, they were produced by a company in New York.  With Prohibition, the company went belly up nearly a century ago.  Just recently a bottle was found still holding a small portion of the stuff which was characterized by notes of cardamom, cassia, and bitter orange peel.  Sounds pretty good, in fact.  With renewed interest in classic cocktails and the bitters craze, a company has reconstructed Boker's.  They are available from Dr. Adam Elmegirab's Boker's Bitters.

With all the different flavors out there, the wrong variety can significantly alter the taste of a drink.  However, the difference between a cocktail with and without them is noticeable.  As an accent, only a few drops add all kinds of dimension.  A simple comparison:  Make two Manhattans, one with and one without.  Do a side-by-side taste test.  You will see the difference and will never want a bitters-less Manhattan again!  

Black Thorn (Irish)

PDT Interview
Personal Preferences: sipping
Style of Drink: aperitif
Spirit of Choice: whiskey
Last Drink: Blood & Sand

After the last drink The Partner commented about needing a nosh to go with it.  The inject-a-thought made me want something more to sip but not as syrupy as the last one.  Something a bit more savory.  Something that could keep us company while he put the finishing touches on dinner and munched on a handful of pretzels.  The Black Thorn (Irish) was a good next step.  In the same family as the Manhattan, Rob Roy, Old Fashioned, this one was a bit lighter.  With the lemon twist garnish it got more and more lemony as we got towards the bottom of the glass.  Made me think that maybe just a dash of lemon juice would brighten it up.  But then I risk another refrain of the acidity chorus. 

Black Thorn (Irish)
2 oz. Irish whiskey
1 oz. dry vermouth
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a chilled coupe.  (Meehan says to rinse the glasses with Absinthe.  (We didn’t.)  Garnish with lemon twist.

Improved Whiskey Cocktail

Very elegant & a total bomb.

PDT Interview
Personal Preferences: warming, winter pick-me-up, using a new liquor
Style of Drink: rocks
Spirit of Choice: Maraschino liqueur, peach liqueur, pear liqueur, honey bourbon
Last Drink: Pearl Button

We won’t spend much time on this one.  In both versions it wasn’t the best and far from “improved” in both my book and The Partner’s.  The recipe calls for the glasses to be rinsed with Absinthe.  The Partner can’t stand licorice.  So his didn’t get the rinse.  I’m not a fan of strong licorice either, but wanted to see if there’s any way to include Absinthe without it overwhelming the entire bev.  Besides, I always want to get the baseline before I start improvising.  No luck.  Mine was all licorice.  The Partner was done with the one round.  I made another without the Absinthe.  Still, the one word was cloying.  I couldn’t even finish it.  If I were to do this again, I’d definitely leave out the Absinthe and the simple syrup.

Improved Whiskey Cocktail
2 oz. rye
½ oz. Maraschino liqueur
½ oz. simple syrup
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Stir with ice and pour over a single ice cube into a chilled rocks glass that’s been rinsed with Absinthe.  Garnish with a lemon twist.  

Bianco | 41 down 234 to go

It was official this week.  We're done with warm in the Windy City.  We needed the heat on two days this week.  No matter what I did today, I was just cold.  So when it came time to start thinking about happy hour, something brown just seemed warm and comforting.  Honestly, a noggy Milk Punch was really calling my name.  But we need to push forward rather than run repeats, so the Bianco it was.

We'll file this one under Manhattan lite.  It hit the basic flavor notes, but the first few sips had that same kind of light, hollow quality you get when drinking an artificially sweetened diet beverage.  It's not a terribly rich cocktail and lacks the full mouthfeel of its more citified cousin.  I suppose this could be something one could offer a sipping partner who is dieting or generally concerned about caloric intake and spin it as a "low-cal" option.  Ha!  Which of course, it's not.  But it sure feels and tastes like one.  Gotta love that dry vermouth!

Bianco

2 oz. bourbon

1 oz dry vermouth

2 dashes Angostura bitters

Shake with cracked ice and decant into a chilled cocktail glass, garnishing with a lemon twist.

Green-Eyed Monster | 37 down 238 to go

“I'm the Green Fairy... The hills are alive, with The Sound Of Music!”

The Partner is working late again tonight.  So given his notorious dislike of all things licorice, it was an opportunity to sample a Pernod bev.  I know I’m one of only a handful of peeps who actually like – no, love – the movie, Moulin Rouge.  IMHO an entire course could and should be taught on the literary and sociological aspects of the film.  It is a film of a particular moment that was soon obliterated by 9/11.  For myself, its appeal rests in the fact that it drew together so many of my interests – framed storytelling, literary conventions galore, popular music, Broadway music, it is a musical, iconic actors who actually sang themselves -- ahem --  sans Auto-Tune -- whatever you want to say about their quality, the amazing Christine Anu as Arabia, and (...wait for it...) one of my oh-so guilty pleasures – Ms. Kylie Minogue – was the embodiment of Absinthe herself as the Green Fairy!  Could Homo ask for more?

Huh?  Oh, yes, the drink!  The Green-Eyed Monster is a mouthful o’ licorice.  The fact that it only takes a quarter ounce of Pernod makes no difference.  All the other liquid in the tipple serves only to dilute the syrupy aromaticity of the Absinthe.   If you like this kind of thing, go for it.  But this is such a strong flavor, it’s very much a one note wonder – unlike Nicole, Ewan, John, Jim, Richard, Christine, aaaand … **sigh** …  Kylie.



Green-Eyed Monster
2 oz. Irish whiskey
½ oz.sweet vermouth
¼ oz. Pernod
1 dash Angosturas

Shake with cracked ice and serve in a chilled cocktail glass with a lemon twist.

The Abbey | 32 down 243 to go

So there’s not much to talk about with the Abbey.  It’s the very first in the back of H & M, thus consisting of nothing but a recipe.  Looking online, there’s not much to report either, save that it seems to have been invented and was wildly popular in the 1930’s and can be found in another cocktail bible, The Savoy Cocktail Book.  Indeed, recipes I came across online are updates for modern palates, using Lillet’s & orange bitters, each of which renders a somewhat sweeter, less bitter experience than this original.

So far, it’s The Partner’s self-proclaimed favorite.  Upon reflection, he took a Goldilocks stance, describing it as not too acidic, not too sweet, but juuuust right.  In the moment after the first sip, though, he put it this way:  “MMMM!!  GIN…!  It’s not sour….   Mmm-hmm!  Very nice!”   After he finished his first (a full 3 sips ahead of me), he not-so-subtly held his empty in front of him intoning, “Yes, please. I’ll have another!”  And I didn't even get the stock lecture on "these classic cocktails".  Progress.

This is a good aperitif, with a light juniper base and orange accent.  Getting to the bottom of the glass, it does take a decidedly sweet turn as you down the cherry-infused liquid from the maraschino garnish.  In an odd example of role-reversal, I had to stop at two while The Partner could’ve gone for a third.  Between the sweet last sips and the OJ, it was becoming a bit thick on my palate.  Perhaps some fresh-squeezed OJ would be better as it’s a bit thinner.  (Home squeezed, not the kind they sell in the grocery store that mulches the entire orange.)

Snapping the pic and seeing the cherry nestled in the crook of the martini glass I couldn’t help but think of those Screwball ices we used to get from the ice cream man as a kid.  What were those little balls at the bottom of the ice, anyway?  Gumballs?  I think I need to try to find one of those.…

Abbey Cocktail

2 oz. gin

1 oz. orange juice

1 dash sweet vermouth

1 dash bitters

Shake with cracked ice and pour into chilled cocktail glasses.  Garnish with a maraschino.

Bennett Cocktail | 31 down 244 to go

The Bennett Cocktail came from the back of the bible, so there’s no history to this from H & M to share.  However, according to Robert Vermeire’s Cocktails, How to Mix Them (1935), the Bennett was very popular in Chile and was named after a popular Chilean millionaire, businessman and landowner.

The Partner and I enjoyed this one as an aperitif one night when he had to work quite late.  We were both starving, but dinner was warm and ready to go whenever we were.  As soon as I got the text that he was on a homeward-bound train I started icing the glasses.  This cocktail would be a delicious delay of gratification.  And delicious it was.  The tart astringency of the gin, lime and bitters was smoothed out by the simple syrup.   After the first couple sips, I found myself thinking of bubble gum.  I know that might make some of you wince, but note my choice of words here.  I won’t say it tasted like bubble gum.  It didn’t.  However, as I sipped, I did think of it.  And this was not an offensive thing.

After the first round, The Partner, who I think is officially Patience personified with this project, did what has happened enough times now that I can call it a trend.  He asked if his next round could be “one of your fantastic Manhattans.”  Hey, blog mission accomplished, right?  At least he’s not defaulting to Kettel anymore.   But after the requisite lecture on the problem with “these classic cocktails”, and I agreed to make him a Manhattan to accompany my second Bennett, he rather quickly and willingly decided to join me.  Then, giving his imprimatur, “This one’s nice.  I’d do it again.  It’s a keeper.” 

Ah, a toast to expanding horizons!

Bennett Cocktail
2 oz. gin
½ oz. lime juice
½ tsp. simple syrup
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Shake with cracked ice and serve in chilled cocktail glasses.  Garnish with a lime squeeze.

(BTW, skulking around the Web looking for history about the bev I found several recipes that called for sugar instead of simple syrup.  I’d advise against such pinch-hitting.  Beyond mere sweetness, syrup adds a smoothness and dimensionality to a cocktail that sugar does not.  Sugar is just sweet and will make a bev sandy if not held in solution.  Take the few minutes needed to make simple syrup.  Then it’s on hand for such cocktails.  Plus, it keeps for ever.) 

Rob Roy | 26 down 249 to go

Chicago this spring has been miserable.  I’m not sure if I’ve cracked this joke in an entry before, but even if I have, the weather’s been sucky enough that repeating it bears up:  I don’t remember moving to Seattle. 

So, we’re sitting on the deck, getting to the end of our Moscow Mules – a decidedly warm weather bev.  The Partner asks, “So what’s next?”  It’s at that moment that I realize the gloriously warm sunny day has turned gray and damp yet again.  This is no longer Moscow Mule weather. 

“Feels like a we need something warming, with a brown liquor,” says I.

“Yes, I’ll have a Manhattan!” says he.

We’re not making repeats today, thinks I, and I hit the bible.  Rob Roy!

While H & M declare, “When all else fails, we turn to the Rob Roy ….”  Here’s my declaration:  A Rob Roy  is the poor, country cousin to the Manhattan.  Wooo!  What a difference an ingredient makes.  Not wanting to give up on a second round, I made another for myself.  Sometimes drinks get better with another round.  And for The Partner:  a Manhattan.  (“No, really, can I please have a Manhattan and can you make it with the good bourbon?”  Sure, baby.  Why miss a chance for a side-by-side comparison?) 

Seriously.  Night and day.  And it’s not just the difference between a maraschino and a lemon twist.  A RR is noticeably rougher.  Less refined.  It stings the back of the throat – relatively speaking – to be sure.  It even looks anemic sitting next to its Uptown cousin. Ok, really, I guess it wasn’t horrible.  But if a bartender can make this then he can make a Manhattan and why wouldn’t I want a Manhattan then?  Unlike H & M, we’ll be able to try another route when all else fails.

From time to time, I must admit that The Partner has a point. 

(Don’t tell him that though or there’ll be no living with him.)


Old Fashioned
2 oz. whiskey
½ oz. sweet vermouth
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Stir with cracked ice; strain into chilled cocktail glass; garnish with a lemon twist or a maraschino cherry.

Old Fashioned | 24 down 251 to go

In another nod to the ancestors and not wanting to work too hard for this evening’s cocktail, we went with the Old Fashioned.  This is another one I remember the adults drinking at parties when I was a kid.  The cherry and the orange in the glass always seemed so exotic to me.  And the rich smell of the bourbon mingling with the pipe smoke from my father and grandfather… heady stuff.

This is another super easy one that requires some muddling, which is always fun.  And can I say, wow, right to the brain!  Starting with a real kick, they get sweeter and easier as they goes down.  The combination of bitters and sugar adds that je ne sais quoi dimensionality as they balance and counter each other, just as they do in a Champagne Cocktail.

H&M dispute whether the OF may have been the first American cocktail.  Regardless, it’s indeed and oldie.  They offer two versions of the history of the OF and say they won’t take sides.  I on the other hand will.  My fave of the two is the far more interesting one that traces its origins back to the Whiskey Rebellion of the early 1790’s.  When the new Federal government levied its very first excise tax on whiskey to raise some money to pay down the national debt, folks on the frontier didn’t take it so well.  (Sin taxes?  Deficit spending?  Regionalism?  Tax rebellion?  What exactly has changed in 220 years?)  Westerners found it particularly onerous arguing it hit their pocketbooks harder than Easterners’ since farmers made whiskey from surplus grain left over from the harvest.  Whiskey also operated as an alternate currency since money on the frontier was often scarce.  Poor folks were sometimes paid in whiskey.  So for them it was also an income tax.  When tax officials tried to collect, in many instances the response turned violent.  This was particularly the case in the southwestern counties of Pennsylvania where the rebellion was centered.  In Kentucky, as it turns out, no one was trying to collect the tax.  So some farmers and tavern owners moved their whiskey operations there.  When they went, they took with them their recipe for the Old Fashioned.

As a result of this muddled history (yep, hadda do it!) there’s some disagreement about whether the bev was originally made with bourbon or rye.  Today however, use whichever is your fave and you’ll not only be correct, but you won’t be disappointed either.

Old Fashioned
2 oz. whiskey
2 dashes Angostura bitters
1 t. sugar
Splash of seltzer

In a chilled Old Fashioned glass, muddle sugar, bitters, orange wheel, and a maraschino cherry until the sugar is dissolved.  Add whiskey and ice and seltzer.  Stir.  Optional: garnish with a lemon twist.

Cocktail Chat | An Original Cocktail for Mother's Day

This entry is a Cocktail Chat since it is not a drink out of Cocktail.  However, it is absolutely an inspiration that's resulted from this undertaking.

A couple hours ago, I thought it'd be fun to create a cocktail for Mother's Day.  Since I can't be with my mom today, I thought I'd design something she would enjoy.  So mom, if you're reading this, Happy Mother's Day.  This bev's for you!

Once the weather warms up, mom loves a good white wine spritzer.  So that's where this drink begins.  But since this is a special day and the tipple a part of the Dilettante project, it couldn't be just a spritzer.  The fact that mom isn't big on liquor, finding accents was a bit of a challenge until I thought about the aperitifs she enjoys.  So this will have a citrus note to it.  I'm sure I'll tweak the recipe over time, especially if I get some feedback and ideas from mom herself.  

But in the meantime, I offer the first draft of the Diane Spritzer!  May it refresh on a hot summer day!

The Diane Spritzer

4 1/2 oz. Sauvignon Blanc

2 oz. Cointreau or Grand Marnier

1 oz. gin

1 oz. lemon juice

4 dashes orange bitters

seltzer to taste

Stir with cracked ice; pour into a wine glass filled with ice; garnish with a lemon wheel.  For some added dimension, shake 3 dashes of Angostura bitters on a sugar cube and place in the bottom of the glass.

Fancy-Free | 18 down 257 to go

Cocktail is divided into 3 parts.  Part I is "Mixing Advice from the Alchemist".  Part II is "The Drink Classics Worth Imbibing First" and consists of 63 of the 275 classics.  It's from here that I find most of the history about a bev included in a blog entry.  Then there's Part III: "Drink Recipes".  And that's all they are.  Names and recipes.  It's from here that the Fancy-Free came so there's no official history.

However, as soon as I mixed and decanted this, the nose instantly took me back to my history as that little boy eating sotted cherries.  There's just something about the combination of bourbon & maraschino juice that reminds me especially of my grandparents' generation.  Too, in bourbon drinks maraschinos don't look quite so offensive.  I love how in this one it's almost a shimmering jewel set in the crook of the glass.

The Fancy-Free is so simple to mix, very Manhattanesque, and good.  So good, in fact, The Partner made one of his boldest declarations to date:  "Honey, I think this is the best one you've mixed yet!" 

"Wow!" I said.

"Can't wait to see that in print…" he "protested", practically begging me to include his quip here. 

But I'm a mixologist now.  I serve to please!

Fancy-Free
2 oz. bourbon
1/2 oz. maraschino juice
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash orange bitters

Shake with cracked ice; strain into chilled cocktail glass; garnish with a maraschino