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.