The L'Orange and The Gene Splicer

The Orange Popsicle, or The Gene Splicer

Not the best way to start one's Sunday morning, opening the New York Times over coffee and seeing a headline heralding the demise of breakfast across the continent: A Race to Save the Orange by Altering Its DNA.

With the Florida orange business coming in at $9 billion a year -- second only to Brazil globally -- you'll perhaps forgive me if I don't take  beknighted little orange farmer, Ricke Kress, at face value when he suggests he's fighting against the big, bad FDA, consumer groups, and environmentalists to save the noble orange as a service to mankind.  I think it's pretty safe to say it's about profits.  And when the article concludes with Kress talking about how GMO technology might one day “... improve orange juice....  Maybe we can find a way to have oranges grow year-round, or get two for every one we get now on a tree.”  who is he kidding?  This is about Big Agribusiness doubling down on yet another mono-culture (think bananas and corn) and doing anything and everything it has to protect that monoculture, supersize its production and thus its profits.  Even if it means twisting nature by inserting pig or spinach genes into orange trees to do it.

Remember seasonal produce?  Wouldn't it be great to return to them.  We value things so much more when we can only enjoy them for a limited period of time each year.   Scarcity not only makes things more valuable, but when it comes to food, I firmly believe scarcity makes them taste better.  It's not like the Frankenfoods Big Agribusiness has produced to keep seasonal fruits and veggies in our supermarkets year round are tastier.  So now we have them year round.  How is it a bonus to the consumer?  For all their genetic manipulation, irradiation, and nitrogen storage foods have no taste and lousy texture.  Take tomatoes.  So we have them year round.  The outcome is that they're now orange/pink, mealy, and tasteless year round.  Unless you're willing to shell out $5-$7 a pound for "heirlooms".  Big Agribusiness is making our food supply more vulnerable to disease and species eradication the more they widdle our food stocks down to a mere handful of species.  Genetic diversity is a bulwark against disease and extinction.  As we're seeing with bananas and now oranges, we're just one bug away from losing some of our favorite foods.  But hey, as long as Southern Gardens Citrus, or Tropicana, or Florida's Natural, or Monsanto gets those record profits in the here and now, who cares if future generations never get to eat another banana or drink another glass of OJ again.  Right?

OK, ranting is over.  Let's drink.  In the interest of genetic diversity, I made two tipples here.  The first is more cocktail-like with nice depth and body.  It's a little sweet, but not cloying.  It's a surprisingly nice orange cocktail -- which doesn't get said too often.  Let's dub this one L'Orange, given most of its ingredients' French pedigree.  The other is a nice summer sipper -- light and tasty. In the summertime as a kid, I loved to make homemade popsicles by pouring straight OJ into popsicle molds and putting them in the freezer.  So seasonal.  Well, this one tastes just like that.  So we can call this one The Orange Popsicle, or the Gene Splicer.  I think I prefer the latter because it starts off as a L'Orange, but then you splice in some other ingredients, just like Southern Gardens Citrus and Monsanto!

L'Orange:  The template DNA for The Gene Splicer

L'Orange
1 1/2 oz. orange juice
1 1/2 oz. Lillet blanc
1 oz. Cointreau

Fill a cocktail shaker with ice.  Add the OJ, Cointreau,  and Lillet.  Shake 12-15 times.  Decant into a chilled martini glass.  No garnish.

The Orange Popcicle, or the Gene Splicer
2 oz. orange juice
1/2 lime juice
1/2 oz. Cointreau
1/2 oz. Lillet blanc
2 dashes orange bitters
2 oz. seltzer

Pour the OJ, lime juice, Cointreau, Lillet, and bitters in a Collins glass.  Fill with ice.  Top with the seltzer and stir.  No garnish.

Corpse Reviver #3, or the Marco Rubio

I’ve been getting bored lately with posting mere reviews of new beverages and quips from The Partner (hysterical as they are).  But recently, I had a brainflash. Let’s give it some time and see how it works. Here's the story of my brainflash. 

There is so much in the media that makes me sad or angry lately that this NPRoholic can't even listen to super-high quality news shows like Morning Edition or All Things Considered anymore.  And don't get me started on The Partner's fave: Today.  At least in the former it's the news that disturbs.  In the latter it's the cast that makes me apoplectic.  (Yes, cast.  I will not besmirch the Fourth Estate by suggesting that biased Matt; bland, insipid Female Sidekick; bland, insipid Female News Reader, or clownish Al are even remotely related to professional journalists. But I digress...somewhat.)  Then there's "reality" TV.  Talk about man's inanity to man.  If we take these shows as a reflection of society, then as a nation we must be a bunch of developmentally stunted adolescents who can't get enough of the trumped up drah-mah more characteristic of middle school classrooms and high school drama clubs.  I'm digressing again. But bear with me. It's all about to come together here.

So The Partner and I were catching up on our TiVo queue and I felt like getting mixologically experimental.  I looked at the bar and saw two lone Florida oranges about to skip past their expiration dates.  I also had a sudden jones for something akin to a lemonade.  Then it occurred to me.  I'll riff on the Corpse Reviver! I whipped one up with fresh OJ and found it worth repeating.  (Look here to learn more about the Corpse Reviver and here for the Corpse Reviver #2.)

As we sipped, a news tease featuring Marco Rubio and his filibustering ass zipped by as we fast forwarded through a commercial block.  If you’ve paid any attention to the news over the past couple weeks, the message (for now) is clear:  Marco Rubio is the savior of the Republican party!  In fact, just try Googling “Marco Rubio savior”.  In a mere .27 seconds you’ll get about 58,000 results.  Scoffing at the TV, I took a sip and it hit me.  The media, and probably even Marco himself, see him as the reviver of the Republican party corpse.  And thus the latest incarnation of Dilettante is conceived.  Cocktailing as social commentary!

So here’s the first such entry:  The Corpse Reviver #3, or the Marco Rubio.  During the late 19^th early 20^th Centuries, revivers were hair of the dog bevs after excesses of the night before.  After the excesses of the party of frightened, angry, old, straight, white men-in-denial, the media and the party are hanging all their hopes on Rubio.  He’s young, Hispanic, telegenic, from Florida.  What do you know?  Everything Tea Partiers and the rest of the party have been saying is true.  The Republican party really is a big tent!  I love it when they point to one or two people going against type and call it proof of their rhetoric. 

But more importantly, as I sipped I was thankful, thankful that God sent us Marco.  See, recently I haven’t been sleeping very much out of fear that a drone might come crashing through the window of our Chicago condo and take us out.  But now I can sleep at night, feeling safe that my president and his justice department have promised not to dispatch us from a distance in the middle of the night.  Phew!  Marco, despite your tweeted protestations:  

There is only one savior, and it is not me. #Jesus
— Marco Rubio (@marcorubio) February 7, 2013

...you are my savior! 



Corpse Reviver #3 or the Marco Rubio
equal parts:
gin
Cointreau
Lillet Blanc
orange juice

Shake over ice and pour into (an Absinthe-rinsed, if you must) coupe.  No garnish.

White Lady

Happy New Year!

Has there really been no post since November??  Well, we've gotten through Thanksgiving, all the holiday parties, Chicago Christmas, New Jersey Christmas, both of us down with a winter cold, and a first week back re-entry.  And while last night wasn't exactly a Date Nite, we did eek out a cocktail from PDT that we sipped while we got ready to meet friends for dinner.

Say hello to the White Lady.  A staple offering from the 1920's at the infamous Harry's New York in Paris, this looks and tastes like the old classic it is.  I thought it would be a good one for The Partner given that the ginny, juniper, citrusy qualities would be mediated by the silky sweetness of the egg white & simple syrup....  Not so much.  A little too classic for his tastes.  While I wouldn't make this a regular for us, it is an easy classic sipper when you have a few friends over and want to impress with a single round that's classy looking, classic flavors, and introduces some  variety beyond the usual bowl of vodka.  A good aperitif to wake up palates before dinner...(and subsequent rounds!).  

**A note to C:  To start 2013 off on the right foot, The Dilettante took your advice.  To keep everyone happy while The Dilettante did the mix-n-shoot, The Partner got a short Tito's & soda sipper.  You were right!  No complaints, not whining, no rushing while the drinks were mixed, staged & photographed.  You're a genius! 

White Lady
2 oz. gin
3/4 oz. Cointreau
3/4 oz. lemon juice
1/4 oz. simple syrup
1 egg white

Dry shake, then shake with ice.  Serve in chilled egg coupes with no garnish.

Sidecar

Givens: Last night was Friday
              Last night was Date Nite
Statement: Food ≤ Cocktails x Fun = Post ÷ Hangover
∴ Short Post.

Happy hour: Sidecar.  Close relative of Maiden's Prayer & Between the Sheets.

Tasty aperitif.

Partner: "I think I can drink this one.  It's just the right balance of sweet and sour and acidity.  I don't think D. & S. would drink it.  But, oh well...."

Me: "They'll drink what I make 'em!"

A rave for an old classic.

Side Car

2 oz. cognac

3/4 oz. Cointreau

3/4 oz. lemon juice

1/4 oz. simple syrup

Shake with ice.  Serve in a chilled coupe half rimmed with sugar.  No garnish.

Corpse Reviver #2

PDT Interview
Personal Preferences: Something new
Style of Drink: aperitif
Spirit of Choice: gin
Last Drink: Manhattan

The Partner had one tough week at work this week.  So rather than tax him with something new, I made him our now standard Manhattan.  For me, how could I not mix up something called the Corpse Reviver #2??  I’ll need to find Reviver #1 – which Meehan ties to the Savoy Cocktail Book.  Wow, was this enjoyable!  Think of a smoooooth lemonade.

For A. & R., you may want to consider this one for Orphans’ Easter.  I know you’ve already made a choice from the Dilettante's list.  But this one is really nice, not to mention easy-breezy to mix.  Plus, you still get to use Lillet!

As for The Partner, it’s a good thing I love the man.  Whenever I don’t make him a new concoction, mixing him a Ketel or Manhattan instead, he always asks, “What’ve you got there?”  The question is usually tinged with envy.  Read: "How come you didn't make me one too?" and pouted through boo-boo lips.  I got the same this time around too.

“It’s a Corpse Reviver #2.  And no, you can’t have a sip.”  He shot back with some faux wounded quip about it not mixing with a Manhattan anyway.  But sure enough, by round two he wanted a sip and I was willing to give it over.

“Oh wow!  That’s like a smooth lemon drop.  That’s gonna be a regular on the deck this summer.”

Husbands.  He really oughta just trust me from the outset  :-P

Corpse Reviver #2
¾ oz. gin
¾ oz. Cointreau
¾ oz. Lillet Blanc
¾ oz. lemon juice
Shake with ice and strain into a chilled Absinthe-rinsed coupe*.
No garnish.

*: Again, we don’t own coupes and we’re not fans of Absinthe – even a rinse of it.  So I didn’t use them here.

UPDATE:  This was the other offering for The Partner's birthday cocktail party mentioned in the Pimm's Cup #1 Update.  And A. & R. did wind up featuring it for Orphans' Easter, as recommended above.  Easily this could've been a more regular feature on the roof this summer.  However, we ran out of Lillet pretty early on and, for whatever reason, it didn't get restocked in a timely manner.  Still, the CR2 became my order of choice when cocktailing "off-site".  If the mixologist is worth his rimming salt, he knows the beverage.  If not, with it's equal proportions and short ingredients list, it's easy to remember and coach him through.  That said, be sure to ask if Lillet is behind the bar.  This is not the same cocktail without it.

Cosmopolitan

PDT Interview
Personal Preferences:  caving to tradition
Style of Drink: classic
Spirit of Choice: vodka
Last Drink: Conquistador

Would you know this was a Cosmo if I didn't tell you?

OK, I’ve been putting this off for damn near a year now.   A Cosmo.  I’ve been dreading some ruby concoction that every fag & his hag order for happy hour at Gay Bar USA.  Such a cliche.  But I have to say, this was a surprise.  First of all, take a look at the color and proportions.  With only a half ounce of cranberry in a nearly 4 oz. cocktail, red this ain’t gonna be.  For a PDT recipe, I have to say, it’s rather classic in style.  More on the acid side than sweet, it has a rather generic tartness that is good for whetting the appetite.

Drinking more with his eyes and head than his palate,  The Partner declared these tasty and had 2 rounds, which was about all even I could stomach of these.  But as an aperitif, that’s appropriate, I believe.

An interesting exercise would be to mix up a couple of H & M’s version to see how they compare.  Then maybe one from a local establishment.  Perhaps episode 2 of He Shot-She Shot?  We’ll see.

Bon Samedi!

Cosmopolitan
2 oz. Buddha’s Hand vodka*
¾ oz. Cointreau
¾ oz. lime juice
½ oz. cranberry juice
¼ oz. simple syrup

Shake with ice and strain into a chilled coupe.  Garnish with an orange twist.


*: We didn't have any Buddha's Hand vodka, so we used Ketel Citroen.

Do Be Careful | 45 down 230 to go

The name here sure makes it sound dangerous, doesn’t it?  Do Be Careful is fun to say, tasty, but ultimately, not in need of a special license to enjoy or chaperone to guard against one’s foolishness showing up naked on FaceBook.  A bright, citrusy bev that’s mediated by the dash – and I do mean dash – of grenadine, the DBC is innocuous and goes down nicely for a couple rounds.  We’ll make them again.  Moving on….
 

So, the real story this week is the cocktail vessels themselves.  Check those out!  Recently, I’ve been thinking to myself that the photos were getting a little stale.  We only have so many styles of glassware and seeing the same ones repeat over and over on the blog was getting monotonous.  Wow…is this the Dilettante or the Debutante who can’t be seen in the same outfit one cotillion to the next?  But what’s a home mixologist to do?  Do you know what quality drinkware costs???  Anyway, The Partner was apparently reading my mind.  (Honestly, I never expressed my thoughts out loud or even hinted!)  As I was about to decant the DBC’s into a set of our martini glasses, he stopped me and pushed a box across the bar.  “This is really for Christmas, but I think you might want to open it now.” 
 

Awesome.  Constantly chilled bevs that are never watered down.  Some cocktailing designer was really thinking on this one!
 

Do Be Careful
1 ½ oz. gin
¾ oz. Cointreau
¾ oz. lemon juice
1 dash grenadine

Shake with fine ice; strain into chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with a maraschino.

Appetizer | 43 down 232 to go

This week has been a lesson in delayed gratification.  I’ve been craving a good Old Fashioned for about a week now and was looking forward to one or two kicking off the weekend.   But last night I was forced to drive back from Springfield when my train was delayed 2 ½ hours.  I couldn’t take it, so rented a car and made it back to Chi well before the Lincoln 304 out of St. Louis.  Another job well-done, Amtrak!  But by the time I got home, having missed our late dinner reservations at Vincent, all I could handle was a hot shower, a bottle of wine, and some pizza – all of which The Partner had waiting for me.

I still want that Old Fashioned.  But since I missed posting last night, I needed to get this in before the OF.  I have to admit to being intrigued by the Appetizer.  Between the name and the ingredients, I was thinking of this cocktail like a pint of Guinness – a meal all on its own.
 
Never underestimate the power of citrus hulls to fruitify one’s cocktail without the acidic sting.   The Appetizer is a surprisingly smooth cocktail with a bright, round, fresh sweetness.  I was nervous with the Peychaud's bitters, ready for The Partner to curl his nose and wince with an “Eeew, licorice!”  But instead, I was rewarded with an “Oh, that’s nice, dear….  That’s nice!”

On to the Old Fashioned...finally!

Appetizer

2 oz. rye

3 dashes Cointreau

2 dashes Peychaud's bitters

1 lemon hull

1 orange hull

Shake with ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass, garnish with lemon twist.

Margarita | 29 down 246 to go

Without exaggeration, The Partner and I can say that prior to today, we have not had a Margarita.  I know this may cause some consternation around Lakeview where up to this moment El Tapatio and our friend, M., have held the title for Best Margarita.  This version is of a different caliber.

To be fair, we did not make this Margarita strictly by the book.  It is a bit of an improv – and not getting a baseline, for sure.  While this may seem like I’m getting cocky, let’s look at it as needing to make necessary substitutions when different ingredients are in-house.  We were out of Cointreau so substituted Grand Marnier.  And as mentioned in the previous post, we’re desperately trying to drink down a store of OJ.  So orange juice subbed for lemon juice.  We also prefer ours on the rocks without salt.  All that being said, this version was one of the smoothest and tastiest we’ve ever had.  When out of balance, Margaritas can cut in one or a combination of 3 ways:  Too much booze and it burns the throat.  Too much syrup and it scratches the 

throat.  Too much citrus juice and the acidity burns the tongue & tonsils.  Often, heartburn is the result more than any kind of enjoyable warm fuzzy.  This version perfectly harmonized the 3 components of liquor, sugar, and citrus.  It was smooth, vibrant and refreshing. 

As several guests arrived for a spontaneous roof party, these flowed easily throughout the evening without gumming up the palate with syrupy sweetness.  Several guests remarked at their goodness and one was even surprised that it was a Margarita.  How tragic.  This is what Chi-Chi’s has wrought.

Margarita
1 ½ oz. tequila
¾ oz. Cointreau
½ oz. lemon juice
½ oz. lime juice

Shake with cracked ice; strain into chilled wine goblet or cocktail glass with kosher salt on the rim; garnish with a lime wheel.


UPDATE:  This recipe continues to yield, hands-down, the best Margarita The Partner and I have ever had (sorry M. :-).  In the original post above, I didn't strictly follow the recipe as written.  But I've since mixed it exclusively as written and it is smooth, citrusy, balanced sweetness, dangerous.  A staple on the roof this summer, especially with guests who tended towards the familiar, all said this was the best Margarita they'd had.  If you haven't taken the opportunity to mix this bad girl up, do it!

Cocktail Chat | A Critical Mixology Lesson

Every year, The Partner and I host a Pride brunch.  Most years we have about 15-25 people show up.  We cook easy brunch things, serve up the usual brunchy cocktails like Mimosas, Bloody Marys, and Screwdrivers.  This year we had two occasions to change things up and go all out.  First was our deck.  We've just finished an expansion of it that includes a fun new outdoor bar.  The other occasion was this little project we're on with the bible and the blog. 

As we planned our respective menus, I decided that the usual drink fare were fine, however the morning would need something new to reflect our growing expertise in the mixological arts.  Given that the morning moves quickly and we're on a schedule to walk over to the parade by late morning, the special bev would have to be something I could mix a batch of in advance and just pour into a glass when requested.  Not wanting to experiment with something new for a party, I turned back to the blog, zeroing in on both the "Make it again, Sam" and "summer" tags for inspiration.  Everyone remember the Jasmine ("I'll have a Jaaaasssmine...")?  Seemed perfect.  It was breakfasty in its ingredients, tasted like grapefruit juice when mixed, and bonus of bonuses for the day:  IT WAS PINK!

After a trip to Costco for some large scale high end ingredients (I was mixing for 40.) and a cool, spigotted dispenser, I got to work the morning of the affair.  I collected the ingredients, pulled my measuring cups, squeezed six pounds of fresh lemons.  I mixed it all together and tasted.  Now here's the lesson: unless the drink is specifically a punch, you can't just scale it up.  A simple and proportional conversion from ounces to cups simply does not work -- which is what I did.  How clever and mathematical I felt!  But when finished mixing and adding a healthy amount of ice, I didn't have a punch, I just had a cocktail of Brobdingnagian proportions.  It was amazing how something that is so delicious and refreshing in a four ounce martini glass was utterly lacerating in a twelve ounce drinking glass filled with ice.

What was supposed to be a simple mixing task had now become a rescue mission.  Guests were minutes away from walking in the door and I had to find a way not to waste over $100 of perfectly good premium liquor.  Taking a moment, I breathed and with a little positive self-talk I told myself that I would not panic.  This was now an improvisation, no different from when I'm cooking without a recipe.  It would just require some thought to the ingredients necessary to achieve the desired flavors and textures coupled with a routine of mix and taste, mix and taste until all elements were balanced and harmonious.  Luckily, The Partner had already made a pitcher of simple syrup just to have on hand.  Luckily, too, we live across the street from a Whole Foods.  Figuring my budding Pride Punch was suffering from an over abundance of sharp base and accent liquors as well as an acidic juice, it would need more sweetness to soften it up.  I grabbed a carton of sweetened lemonade from across the street and added about two cups of that to the mix.  Next, I added about half a cup of the syrup.  With a few more tweaks with each new ingredient I finally arrived at the perfect balance of sweet to tart, brining the sharp presence of alcohol down to a mere suggestion.  Mixed with ice and it was the perfect cooler on a sunny, summer Pride morning!

It's here that I have to give a shoutout to our neighbor, Y.  She came over right on time and before everyone else and was the instrumental set if taste buds and opinions that helped me complete this concoction.  Y, babe, I know this was not your cup of tea, but you took one for the team to save the day, and I appreciate that.  Clearly, we were successful.  As the picture shows, it was popular.  Peeps were so disappointed when the barrel ran dry two people were picking the tankard up off it's base and tipping it ten ways to Sunday to eek out the last few drops from the tap.  Ah, I love an enthusiastic Pride!

LOOK at all those "Jasmine Pride Punches"!

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.

Petit Zinc | 17 down 258 to go

The grayish tinge should've been a warning!

As mentioned in the previous entry, we were on our way to dinner at J- & M-‘s place.  After 18 years, they’re more family than friends.  So I thought I’d bring the bible along and rustle up a cocktail with them at their place.  It was sort of a Top Chef moment with no idea what they would have in their bar besides their favorite bases of vodka & scotch.  Available mixers included some sweet vermouth & Grand Marnier & orange juice.  So a Petit Zinc it was (substituting Grand Marnier for Cointreau).

If you were starting to worry that we liked everything we made lately with all the “Make it again Sam” tags, fear not.  This was awful.  Figures it would happen at a friend’s  home.  Despite all the other ingredients and what you’d expect to be a glass full of orange, it was like drinking thickened sweet vermouth.  Horrible.  We adjourned to the roof to enjoy a spring evening if not the concoction.  The guys sipped dutifully, eyeing me over the rims of their glasses, telepathically asking each other “How much more of this will we have to drink this before quitting?”  Yet I didn’t want to give up and was heroically striving for the bottom of the glass. 

Finally, M- stands up with a half empty glass.  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to move on to something else.”  As the word “absolutely” was coming out of my mouth, The Partner stands as well.  “Yeah, me to.  I need a vodka.”   Really?  Et tu, Iohannes? 

 I couldn’t blame them.  If it’d been our liquor, I’d’ve been leading the way to the bar for a new bev.

Petit Zinc
2 parts vodka
1 part each: sweet vermouth,
Cointreau, OJ

Shake with cracked ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass, garnish with orange wheel or a maraschino.

Pegu | 15 down 260 to go

Dry & citrusy...the Pegu from colonial Burma

I love it when H & M lead with a short but tantalizing history of a cocktail, especially one as exotic and literary as the Pegu.  This drink was fantastically popular during the 1920’s, 30’s & 40’s, but traces back to Burma of the late 1800’s.  The bev gets its name from The Pegu Club which was 50 miles outside Rangoon and was the regular haunt of British colonial officers.  One officer in particular may be a reason for it’s 20th century popularity.  For several years, George Orwell was famously stationed in Burma and a frequent patron of the club.
 
For my family back East, a quick Google led me to the club’s namesake in SoHo and purports to be an establishment dedicated to classic cocktailing culture.  How cool is that?  Maybe you could check it out and report back.  Or perhaps a field trip cum family reunion when I’m home next.  For research purposes, of course!  I sense a plan hatching…

H & M claim “the Pegu is more than mildly in resurgence, meaning that this inspiring gin aperitif has been successfully ordered at most bars and dining establishments.”  Now granted, the copyright of the bible is 1998.  But still, has anyone else heard of this tipple before?  I know I haven’t.
 
The Pegu is a good way, say the authors, for people who don’t like Angostura bitters to acclimate.  They also suggest adding a couple dashes of orange bitters as training wheels for the bitters-averse.  We tried it both with the orange bitters and without.  This is a beautiful, dry, citrusy drink.  Very refreshing.  If you make it with only the Angosturas, you can smell the difference when shaking, but the taste is not terribly different.  Though it does go from dry with the orange to dry, dry, dry with Angosturas alone.  An easy-breezy one to mix and a definite for a summer evening after a day in the sun.  Santé!

Pegu
3 parts gin
1 part Cointreau
1 part lime juice
2 dashes Angostura bitters
(2 more dashes orange bitters for a bit more citrus and less dryness)

Shake with cracked ice and serve in chilled Martini glasses.  Garnish with a lime twist.

Jasmine | 11 down 264 to go

The Partner:  I can see it now.

Me: What?

The Partner: The next time we're out with J- and  M- and the waiter comes to take our drink order and this time it'll be "3 vodkas and a Jasmine."

Gentle Reader, do be sure to hear that cocktail name as it was said, by stretching the "a" out for a good long time and giving  the "s" the slightest sibilance:  "three vodkas and a ... Jaaaaaasssmine."

He can be so funny sometimes.

As it turns out, the Jasmine is not an old classic but a relative newcomer, being named after Matt Jasmine, formerly of the world famous Chez Panisse.

We made this one right after the medicinal Drink Without a Name.  And while it looks like the love child of a Cosmopolitan and a Pink Squirrel, it was the perfect next step from DWAN as it tasted exactly like fresh squeezed grapefruit juice.  An unexpected and welcome surprise.  So much so that by the end of our second round, Someone was passing me his empty and nonchalantly asking for another.

Me: Huh….  Looks like the next time we're out with J- and M- it'll be two vodkas and two Jasmines!

The Partner: [Sheepish sideways smirk.]


Me: Don't worry, baby, I'll teach you how to say it like a man.

Jasmine
1 1/2 oz gin
1/4 oz Cointreau
1/4 oz Campari
3/4 oz lemon juice

Shake with cracked ice; strain into chilled cocktail glass and garnish with lemon twist

Drink Without a Name | 10 down 265 to go

To make the Drink Without a Name, I had to purchase Chartreuse and learned several things I never knew before. (Hey, alcohol as a “gateway” drug…to learning!  Ha!)  While it comes in two colors, yellow & green, it’s the green that is traditional.  In fact, the name of the color derived from the liqueur and not the other way around.  Chartreuse has been made exclusively by Carthusian monks for about 270 years and named after their monastery in the Chartreuse Mountains of Grenoble, France.  The recipe is highly guarded, though we know it’s made with 130 herbs and aged in oak barrels.  It’s one of the few liqueurs to continue to improve in the bottle as it ages.
 
As for its taste, it is exceedingly smooth, very herbal and bitter.  Even medicinal.  It reminded me of a digestif my friend brought me from the Czech Republic, once upon a time, Becherovka.  It is not an inexpensive liqueur and now I know why.   Given that it packs quite a wallop and challenges the contemporary palate, one doesn’t drink it in vast quantities.  Therefore, it will last forever.
 
I had high hopes for this cocktail.  How could you not with its cool, pale green hue made even more vibrant with the orange garnish.  But at the risk of sounding downright Rumsfeldian, the DWAN tastes like Old Europe in a cocktail glass.  Still, we were troupers and finished our medicine before we moved on to our next Saturday evening refreshment.

Drink Without a Name

2 oz vodka

1/4 oz Cointreau

1/8 oz Chartreuse

Mix over cracked ice, stir to chill and serve in chilled cocktail glass.

French 75 | 6 down 269 to go

Ok, when was the last time you had a Fresca?
 

The French 75’s as much a keeper as the Black Velvet was a bust.  Shake with cracked ice:

• 1/4 oz gin
• 1/4 oz Cointreau
• 1/4 oz fresh lemon juice

Decant into a chilled flute and top with 4 oz. Champagne.  Garnish with lemon twist.

A neighbor friend joined us for some apps and a few F75's as a start to her evening out.  I must admit, by the second round, I was not being so meticulous in the measuring and was pouring 1/2-3/4 oz. of the gin & Cointreau with the juice of 1/2 a lemon each time.  They were still delightful.  Light, refreshing, citrusy.  A grown up, better Fresca.
 
Be warned, these go down eeeeasy!  I predict the F75 will get a lot of play on the deck this summer and be pressed into brunch service to relieve the venerable-but-tired Mimosa.

Possible variations include using lime juice instead of lemon, adding a dash of simple syrup and 2 oz. of brandy.  Honestly, I think this would be gilding the fleur de lys.  Substituting bourbon for gin makes it a French 95.

Factoids from H & M: The drink as it’s known now was first mixed somewhere between 1915 & 1920. They cite it as having been named after the 75 mm cannon known as the “Savior of France” during WWI, with a version of the drink (minus the Cointreau and citrus) sipped by French officers before battle.  Ah, courage liquid!