Deep Sea Cocktail

Deep Sea Cocktail

Deep Sea Cocktail

1 Dash Absinthe. (Verte de Fougerolles)
1 Dash Orange Bitters. (Regan’s Orange Bitters)
1/2 French Vermouth. (1 1/2 oz Noilly Prat Dry)
1/2 Old Tom Gin. (1 1/2 oz Junipero Gin, dash rich simple syrup)

Shake (stir, please) well and strain into cocktail glass. Add 1 olive (Divina Roasted Red Pepper Stuffed) and squeeze Lemon Peel on top.

Fabulous Martini-like cocktail and a great use for Junipero Gin.

Also, not always that big a fan of the olive in lighter flavored gin martinis. With the Absinthe and orange bitters here, it really is an enjoyable combination.

This post is one in a series documenting my ongoing effort to make all of the cocktails in the Savoy Cocktail Book, starting at the first, Abbey, and ending at the last, Zed.

Deuville Cocktail

Deuville Cocktail

Deauville Cocktail

1/4 Brandy. (Generous 1/2 oz Maison Surrenne Petite Champagne Cognac)
1/4 Calvados. (Generous 1/2 oz Germain-Robin Apple Brandy)
1/4 Cointreau. (Generous 1/2 oz Cointreau)
1/4 Lemon Juice. (Generous 1/2 oz fresh lemon juice)

Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.

Quite nice! The equivalent of a 2-1-1 Sidecar.

The use of Brandy and Apple Brandy gives it a bit more interest.

According to wikipedia:

Deauville is a commune of the Calvados d├ępartement, in the Basse-Normandie r├ęgion, in France. With its racecourse, harbour, marinas, conference center, villas, Grand Casino and sumptuous hotels, Deauville is regarded as the queen of the Norman beaches.

So the use of Calvados in this cocktail, certainly makes sense.

This post is one in a series documenting my ongoing effort to make all of the cocktails in the Savoy Cocktail Book, starting at the first, Abbey, and ending at the last, Zed.

Davis Brandy Cocktail

Davis Brandy Cocktail

Davis Brandy Cocktail

1 Dash Angostura Bitters.
4 Dashes Grenadine. (1 tsp. homemade grenadine)
1/3 French Vermouth. (3/4 oz Noilly Prat Dry)
2/3 Brandy. (1 1/2 oz Maison Surrenne Petite Champagne Cognac)

Shake (Stir, please) well and strain into cocktail glass.

A thoroughly enjoyable cocktail.

All about the brandy with just a little sweetness and fruitiness from the grenadine.

This post is one in a series documenting my ongoing effort to make all of the cocktails in the Savoy Cocktail Book, starting at the first, Abbey, and ending at the last, Zed.

Davis Cocktail

Davis Cocktail

Davis Cocktail
1/4 Jamaica Rum. (generous 1/2 oz Inner Circle Green)
1/2 French Vermouth. (generous 1 oz Noilly Prat Dry)
2 Dashes Grenadine. (1 tsp. homemade)
Juice of 1/2 Lemon or 1 Lime. (1 lime)

Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.

This is a confusing one, not least because the ingredient fractions fail to add up to the usual “one”.

My version of Duffy gives it as:

Davis
1/2 Jamaica Rum.
1/2 French Vermouth.
2 Dashes Raspberry Syrup.
Juice of 1 Lime.
Shake well with ice and strain into glass.

And the Cocktaildb, Jones’ Complete Barguide one assumes, gives it as:

Davis Cocktail
3/4 oz fresh lime juice (2 cl, 3/16 gills)
1 1/2 oz Jamaica rum (4.5 cl, 3/8 gills)
1/2 oz raspberry syrup (or grenadine) (1.5 cl, 1/8 gills)
3/4 oz dry vermouth (2 cl, 3/16 gills)

I tried the cocktaildb version on Saturday night using Appleton V/X and my wife said it tasted like candy. Pretty disgusting. Way too much grenadine.

Went back to the original, and decided the sensible thing would be an overproof and rather flavorful rum. Not bad at all. With the Inner Circle overproof rum and a reasonable amount of sweetener, it really is all about the rum and the lime. A refreshing tonic.

This post is one in a series documenting my ongoing effort to make all of the cocktails in the Savoy Cocktail Book, starting at the first, Abbey, and ending at the last, Zed.

Darb Cocktail

Darb Cocktail

Darb Cocktail

1/3 French Vermouth. (3/4 oz Noilly Prat)
1/3 Dry Gin. (3/4 oz Bombay Dry Gin)
1/3 Apricot Brandy. (3/4 oz Rothman & Winter Orchard Apricot)
4 Dashes Lemon Juice. (Juice 1/8 Lemon)

Shake (Stir?) well and strain into cocktail glass.

I also tried this with Zwack Barack Palinka in place of the apricot liqueur. While that combination is, uh, interesting, and sort of like a vaguely apricot flavored Casino Cocktail, I really understood why some friends have said said, “as it started to warm it became somewhat harsh,” about the Culross Cocktail when made with Zwack’s Apricot Eau-de-Vie. I think any cocktail with more than a little Zwack Barack Palinka, and you’re going to want it plenty cold.

Anyway, I stirred this, and double strained to get any stray lemon pulp out. I thought it was a quite attractive. A shimmery translucent peach in color.

According to Bartleby.com, quoting “The Columbia Guide to Standard American English”, “Darb is an Americanism probably nearly obsolete today, a slang word from the 1920s meaning ‘something or someone very handsome, valuable, attractive, or otherwise excellent.’”

This post is one in a series documenting my ongoing effort to make all of the cocktails in the Savoy Cocktail Book, starting at the first, Abbey, and ending at the last, Zed.

Dandy Cocktail

Dandy Cocktail

Dandy Cocktail

1/2 Rye or Canadian Club Whisky. (1 oz Rittenhouse Bonded Rye Whiskey)
1/2 Dubonnet. (1 oz Vergano Americano)
1 Dash Angostura Bitters.
3 Dashes Cointreau. (1 tsp. Cointreau)
1 Piece Lemon Peel.
1 Piece Orange Peel.

Shake (stir, please) well and strain into cocktail glass.

First, I find Dubonnet, at least as we have it here, made in the good old USA, to be a pretty boring ingredient. I’ve heard rumors that the stuff they have in France and other countries is superior, but I haven’t ever had it in France to know.

Anyway, since I’m out of Dubonnet Rouge and don’t have any Lillet Rouge, I thought I’d sub in the Vergano Americano. Not traditional, I suppose.

I interpreted the rest of the instructions literally, cutting two wide swaths of peel, squeezing them into the ingredients in the mixing tin and dropping them in. Then stirring them with everything else.

The use of peels as an ingredient makes me think of 19th century drinks like Cobblers, though the use of Cointreau and Dubonnet, seems to place the cocktail more squarely in the 20th Century. Perhaps a 20th Century adaptation of a 19th Century recipe?

One interesting note I found in the 1900 edition of “Cocktail Bill Boothby’s American Bartender”:

Some of my recipes for the manufacture of cocktails order the dispenser to twist a piece of lemon peel into the glass in which the drink is to be served; but in some establishments this is forbidden, the bartender being ordered to twist and drop the peel into the mixing glass and strain the peel with the ice when putting the drink into the serving glass. This is merely a matter of form, however, as the flavor is the same in both cases.

So, I guess, this recipe came from one of those establishments!

Anyway, this re-imagined Dandy is pretty fantastic. I’ve made it before with Dubonnet Rouge and thought it kind of “meh”. A slightly tweaked Manhattan. With the Americano, it ends up more similar to a Creole Cocktail, but is quite spicily distinct. With the Americano’s bitter Quinine bite giving more structure, at least to my taste, than the combination of sweet vermouth and Amer Picon in the Creole. The milder flavor of the Rittenhouse seemed more appropriate rather than the Sazerac Straight or Wild Turkey Rye, but I’m sure they would also be quite tasty.

Definitely something I’ll make again.

This post is one in a series documenting my ongoing effort to make all of the cocktails in the Savoy Cocktail Book, starting at the first, Abbey, and ending at the last, Zed.

MxMo XXX–MAKE IT ANOTHER OLD-FASHIONED, PLEASE

Due to circumstances beyond my control, well laziness basically, I am going to recycle this MxMo post from a year and a half ago. Besides, I’m off to my home state, Wisconsin, land of the Brandy Old-Fashioned. Ya so, dat Old-Fashioned ting is perfectly apropos of the “Local Flavor” theme, dere hey.

Cheers to Kevin Kelpe of Save the Drinkers for hosting this round.

MAKE IT ANOTHER OLD-FASHIONED, PLEASE
Cole Porter, 1940
[...]
there are moments, sooner or later
When it’s tough, I got to say, love to say … Waiter

Make it another old-fashioned, please
Make it another, double, old-fashioned, please
[...]

There’s an art to the Old-Fashioned cocktail. It’s a simple thing, yet when you order it in two bars, you will seldom receive the same cocktail twice.

By the time Jerry Thomas published his “Bartender’s Guide” in the late 1800s, a whiskey cocktail had come to be a shaken “up” cocktail. Due respect to Mr. Thomas, I stirred, and did not shake with crushed ice.

Whiskey Cocktail

Whiskey Cocktail
(Use small bar-glass.)
Take 3 or 4 dashes of gum syrup. (Barspoon Rich Simple Syrup)
2 dashes of bitters (Boker’s). (Angostura)
1 wine-glass of whiskey. (2oz Sazerac 6 Year Rye)

Fill one-third full of fine ice ; shake and strain in a fancy red wine-glass. Put in a piece of twisted lemon peel in the glass and serve.

Some authors posit that the Old-Fashioned Cocktail came by its name as a shortened version of something like, “I’ll have a Whiskey Cocktail made in the Old Fashioned Manner”. That is to say, not shaken and served on the rocks. Presumably, a “Really Old-Fashioned” would be whiskey, water, syrup and bitters. From the Savoy Cocktail Book:

Old-Fashioned Cocktail

Old-Fashioned Cocktail
1 Lump Sugar (Barspoon Rich Simple Syrup)
2 Dashes Angostura Bitters
1 Glass Rye or Canadian Club Whisky (2 oz Sazerac 6 Year Rye)

Crush Sugar and bitters together, add lump of ice, decorate with twist of lemon peel and slice of orange using medium size glass, and stir well. This Cocktail can be made with Brandy, Gin, Rum, etc., instead of Rye Whisky.

Some time in the 20th century, Bourbon replaced the Rye as the whiskey of choice in the Old-Fashioned, and even stranger, bartenders began to muddle the garnish in the glass with the bitters and sugar. Also, for better or worse, soda crept into the mix. From Charles Schumann’s, “American Bar”:

Old Fashioned

Old Fashioned
1 Sugar Cube (Barspoon Rich Simple Syrup)
dashes Angostura Bitters
2 oz Bourbon (W.L. Weller 12 Year)
soda (skipped)
stemmed cherry
orange
lemon

Place sugar cube in an old-fashioned glass saturate with Angostura, add orange and lemon wedges, press with a pestle, add Bourbon, stir well, add ice cubes, fill with soda or water, stir again, garnish with cherry.

Even odder, in Wisconsin, the liquor of choice in Old-Fashioneds is not Whiskey at all, but Brandy (preferably Korbel). Wisconsinites, being cold weather folk, also have a tendency to make these rather large, and sometimes give you a choice of “Sweet” or “Sour”. “Sour” includes a spritz of Soda and “Sweet” a spritz of 7-Up.

Brandy Old-Fashion, Sour

Muddled Brandy Old-Fashioned (Sour)

Recipe identical to the Schumann Old-Fashioned recipe; but, with a generous 2 oz pour of Korbel Brandy instead the Bourbon.

Lately, however, I have found a return, in a few local bars, to the Savoy style stirred Rye Old-Fashioneds, with or without the orange and cherry garnish. This makes ordering an Old-Fashioned somewhat less of a crap shoot. Though, the bartenders do tend to ask if you’re sure you want it that way.

MAKE IT ANOTHER OLD-FASHIONED, PLEASE
Cole Porter, 1940
[...]
So, make it another old-fashioned, please

Leave out the cherry,
Leave out the orange,
Leave out the bitters
Just make it Straight Rye.

Sazerac 18 Year Old Rye Whiskey

Sazerac 18 year Old Straight Rye Whiskey

And, of course, it wouldn’t be complete without a drink of real old fashioned rye whiskey.

For further, more erudite reading on the Brandy Old-Fashioned subject, check Robert Simonson’s Off the Presses for this article: Brandy Old-Fashioned

Edit – Fixed song lyrics. Thanks Bryndon!

Damn-The-Weather Cocktail

Damn The Weather Cocktail
Damn-The-Weather Cocktail

3 Dashes Curacao. (Brizard Orange Curacao)
1/4 Orange Juice. (3/4 oz fresh Orange Juice)
1/4 Italian Vermouth. (3/4 oz Cinzano Rosso Vermouth)
1/2 Dry Gin. (1 1/2 oz Tanqueray Gin)
(Dash Regan’s Orange Bitters.)

Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.

If there is any single type of Savoy Cocktail Book cocktail that I’m getting a bit bored with, it’s probably these Bronx type things. They’re perfectly fine and all, they just never really seem exceptional.

For example, I know I would prefer the Damn-The-Weather without the orange juice.

Heck, then it’s a Martinez! Yum!

Are these type cocktails supposed to be Breakfast/Brunch picker-upper type things?

This post is one in a series documenting my ongoing effort to make all of the cocktails in the Savoy Cocktail Book, starting at the first, Abbey, and ending at the last, Zed.

BOTW–Rodenbach Grand Cru

Before I was a cocktail geek, I was a beer geek.

When in College, far too long ago, my usual plan was purchase a 24 pack of Leinenkugel or Point long necks and see how long they would last. Don’t ask how long that usually was, as it was probably an embarrassingly short amount of time. But, ah, for those blissful days of $6.99 24 packs.

One day my room-mate brought home a bottle of Chimay Rouge. He said, “You gotta try this, it’s the shit.” Or words to that effect. In any case, being a long time flavor junkie, it blew me away. I’d been a Midwestern American Lager and Ale guy and had no idea that beer could even taste like the Chimay did. Almost more like wine than any beer that I had tasted up to that point. Set me off on a course to try as many esoteric beers as I possibly could.

Anyway, fast forward a few years, to 2000. Mrs. Flannestad and I are on our honeymoon in New Zealand. We’re in Christchurch, a beautiful English style city on the South Island. After a day at the market, involving delicious cinnamon babka and sheepskin gloves, (“all sheep died from natural causes,” the labels assured us,) we wandered by a bar whose name I cannot recall. We were a bit hungry and thirsty, so we went in, and were astounded by the number of beers they had, both in bottles and on tap.

One in particular stood out. It was called Rodenbach, and according to the description, it was aged in wooden casks. Some portion of the beer was aged, and some was new. When I asked the waiter about it he said we had to try it.

Wow! Another Belgian epiphany. While I’d tried a few Belgian beers up to that point, I’d never had any made in the sour style. This was rich and sour, almost more like a cross between a cider, a beer, and, well, a mild balsamic vinegar. Anyway, after trying it, I filed it away, and hoped, even though I’d never seen it in the United States to be able to try it again.

Unfortunately, when we got back to the States, we did not find it anywhere.

A few years later, we discovered that our good friends Kim and Matt were a bit obsessed with Rodenbach. And luckily, it was beginning to be available again in the US after a long absence. First in the Midwest, where we tried it at the fantastic beer bar Hop Leaf, and then at several holiday parties at Kim and Matt’s house.

Then, finally, about a year later, this February, when I went to pick up the month’s Beer of the Month club, I was pleased to discover a bottle of Rodenbach Grand Cru in the selection.

BOTW--Rodenbach Grand Cru

The beer pours a reddish brown amber, from the glass, with little or no head. Given there isn’t much head, there also isn’t much aroma. The first thing you get is a sour flavor not unlike slightly fermented cherry juice. It has middle flavors more like a rich sherry or light balsamic vinegar than a beer, and as it warms slightly is incredibly complex. It goes fantastically with food, cheese especially, not unlike sherry.

If you can find it, and are open to different flavor experiences in beer, I highly recommend trying Rodenbach. They make three beers. Rodenbach Original a blend of aged and new beers, Rodenbach Grand Cru which is just aged beers, and Redbach which is a blend of beer and cherry juice similar to lambic beers.

BOTW--Rodenbach Grand Cru

Daiquiri Cocktail

I’ve actually talked already about the Daiquiri in the post “Daiquiris, a Cautionary Tale,” but for that post, (back when I wasn’t too lazy to make movies,) I didn’t actually make a regular Daiquiri. So here we go!

Daiquiri

Daiquiri Cocktail

The Juice of 1/4 Lemon or 1/2 Lime. (1/2 Lime)
1 Teaspoonful Powdered Sugar. (1 teaspoon caster sugar)
1 Glass Bacardi Rum. (2 oz Flor de Cana Extra-Dry)

(Drop the lime shell into the cocktail shaker.) Shake well and (double) strain into cocktail glass.

“The Moment had arrived for a Daiquiri. It was a delicate compound ; it elevated my contentment to an even higher pitch. Unquestionably the cocktail on my table was a dangerous agent, for it held in its shallow glass bowl slightly encrusted with undissolved sugar the power of a contemptuous indifference to fate; it set the mind free of responsibility; obliterating both memory and to- morrow, it gave the heart an adventitious feeling of superiority and momentarily vanquished all the celebrated, the eternal fears. Yes, that was the danger of skilfully prepared intoxicating drinks . The word ‘Intoxicating’ adequately expressed their power. Their menace to orderly, monotonous resignation. A word, I thought further, debased by moralists from its primary ecstatic content…but then, with a fresh Daiquiri and a sprig of orange blossom in my button-hole, it meant less than nothing”

A short extract from Joseph Hergesheimer’s “San Cristobal de la Habana” which contains much wisdom concerning Drinks, Cigars and the Art of Fine Living.

This was always one of my favorite quotes from the Savoy. Fortunately, I was able to track down the Full Text of Hergesheimer’s “San Cristobal de la Habana” on the Internet archive. The Savoy editors chose to edit the passage in some pretty interesting, and fairly predictable, ways. I’ve added the deleted text back in, in bold.

“The moment, now, had arrived for a Daiquiri: seated near the cool drip of the fountain, where a slight stir of air seemed to ruffle the fringed mantone of a bronze dancing Andalusian girl, I lingered over the frigid mixture of Ron Bacardi, sugar, and a fresh vivid green lime.

“It was a delicate compound, not so good as I was to discover later at the Telegrafo, but still a revelation, and I was devoutly thankful to be sitting, at that hour in the Inglaterra, with such a drink. It elevated my contentment to an even higher pitch ; and, with a detached amusement, I recalled the fact that farther north prohibition was formally in effect. Unquestionably the cocktail on my table was a dangerous agent, for it held, in its shallow glass bowl slightly encrusted with undissolved sugar, the power of a contemptuous indifference to fate; it set the mind free of responsibility; obliterating both memory and tomorrow, it gave the heart an adventitious feeling of superiority and momentarily vanquished all the celebrated, the eternal, fears.

“Yes, that was the danger of skilfully prepared, intoxicating drinks. . . . The word intoxicating adequately expressed their power, their menace to orderly monotonous resignation. A word, I thought further, debased by moralists from its primary ecstatic content. Intoxication with Ron Bacardi, with May, with passion, was a state threatening to privilege, abhorrent to authority. And, since the dull were so fatally in the majority, they had succeeded in attaching a heavy penalty to whatever lay outside their lymphatic understanding. They had, as well, made the term gay an accusation before their Lord, confounding it with loose, so that now a gay girl certainly the only girl worth a ribbon or the last devotion was one bearing upon her graceful figure, for she was apt to be reprehensibly graceful, the censure of a society open to any charge other than that of gaiety in either of its meanings. A ridiculous, a tragic, conclusion, I told myself indifferently: but then, with a fresh Daiquiri and a sprig of orange blossoms in my buttonhole, it meant less than nothing.”

More interesting that, and an interesting book on the whole.

It’s kind of funny, I’ve made versions of the Hemingway Special, (with Maraschino and Grapefruit Juice,) a lot; but I don’t think I’ve ever sat down and made myself a regular Daiquiri. I guess it seemed too simple to be extraordinary.

The trick of dropping the the half lime shell into the shaker to get that extra bitter lime oomph, I learned from an instructive youtube video (Daiquiri) from Mr. Angus Winchester.

Like the Cuban Cocktail (No. 1), the relatively small amount of lime and sugar, leaves the Daiquiri a pretty dry and sophisticated cocktail. The flavor of the Rum and scent of the lime are front and center with just enough sweetness to take the edge off.

Simply delightful.

This post is one in a series documenting my ongoing effort to make all of the cocktails in the Savoy Cocktail Book, starting at the first, Abbey, and ending at the last, Zed.