Pineapple Fizz

Pineapple Fizz
2 Tablespoonsful Pineapple Juice.
1/2 Tablespoonful Powdered Sugar.
1 Glass Bacardi Rum.
Shake well, strain into medium size glass and fill with syphon soda water.

So I asked for a Pineapple Fizz at a restaurant in San Francisco.

The recipe didn’t seem entirely promising to me, but the restaurant has fresh pressed pineapple juice, so I was curious to see how that would work.

I said something to the bartender like, “Hey, wanna make a Savoy Cocktail? The Pineapple Fizz is Rum, 2 tablespoons of pineapple juice, and sugar. I leave the rum up to you. It is my feeling it might need a little extra tartness, but I’m not sure.”

He was interested in the idea.

He walked to his station down the bar. Gave the idea some thought, looked up, and came back.

He asked, “This is a fizz, right?”

To which I said, “Yes,” and as he was walking away, immediately thought, “Oh crap, he’s going to put egg white in the drink.”

So we ended up with Barbancourt 8 Year old Rum, Pineapple Juice, Lime Juice, Pineapple Gum Syrup, Lime, and Egg White.

With similar proportions to Heaven’s Dog’s Gin Fizz Tropical, we both admitted this version of the Pineapple Fizz is just not very good. The combination of juice and pineapple gum syrup puts the pineapple out there too strongly. Instead of being a light refreshing Fizz, it was tart and cloying at the same time, in the way that only too much pineapple can be. Sits on your stomach badly. They can’t all be winners.

Though to be honest, I think there might be an OK drink here, but more of a slightly pineapple-ey Rum and Soda Water kind of thing than what most people think of as a modern, intense, citrus driven Fizz. And as much as I like Barbancourt 8, I think the unaged Barbancourt might be a better choice. To be continued…

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

XYZ Cocktail

X.Y.Z. Cocktail
1/4 Lemon Juice. (3/4 oz Lemon Juice)
1/4 Cointreau. (3/4 oz Clement Creole Shrubb)
1/2 Bacardi Rum. (1 1/2 oz Solomon Tournour Rene Alambic Rum)
Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.

A daisy? A daiquiri with Orange Liqueur?

In any case, I am happy to report this combination, is pleasantly dry, even with the Creole Shrubb standing in for Cointreau (no open bottles convenient).

The Rum, I suppose, is a bit of a stretch from Bacardi, of any decade, or century. Well, what are you going to do? Until I find a Dry Cuban Style Rum I actually like, rather than just tolerate, I shall feel free to improvise.

Banks 5 Island? Why not? Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em!

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.

Wow Cocktail

Wow Cocktail
1/4 Bacardi Rum. (1/2 oz Havana Club 7)
1/4 Hercules. (1/2 oz Hercules 5a)
1/4 Calvados or Apple Brandy. (1/2 oz Calvados Montreuil)
1/4 Brandy. (1/2 oz Osocalis Brandy)
Shake (I stirred) well and strain into cocktail glass.

Wow, indeed.

3/4 Booze and 1/4 Aperitif Wine, this is not awful, exactly, but not compelling. Mostly just boozy.

I thought maybe bye choosing Havana Club 7, that I could bring a bit of extra character to the drink, but I think it just distracted from the two brandies. A white rum would have been wiser, I think, in this case.

I guess some of the problem might be that this is not entirely my favorite batch of Hercules. Back to finding Quady Elektra for Hercules, and back to remembering to put the mint tea in.

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.

White Lily Cocktail

White Lily Cocktail
1/3 Cointreau. (3/4 oz Cointreau)
1/3 Bacardi Rum. (3/4 oz Barbancourt White)
1/3 Gin. (3/4 oz Miller’s Gin)
1 Dash Absinthe. (dash Absinthe Duplais Verte)
Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.

I normally don’t enjoy drinks from Judge Jr.’s 1927 book, “Here’s How”, but I found the White Lily strangely interesting.

There is just something fascinating about the combination of Barbancourt White Rhum, Orange, Miller’s Gin, and Absinthe.

However, I suppose I am cheating slightly by using a rum like Barbancourt instead of a Dry Cuban Style Rum. Even being a fairly mild agricole-ish rum, Barbancourt brings a lot more to the party than the average Molasses based white rum. So sue me.

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.

Whist Cocktail

Whist Cocktail
1/4 Bacardi Rum. (1/2 oz Havana Club 7 Year)
1/4 Italian Vermouth. (1/2 oz Carpano Antica)
1/2 Calvados. (1 oz Calvados Montrueil Reserve)
Shake (I stirred) well and strain into cocktail glass.

This is a delightful drink that has been known in the West Indies for countless years. It might be described as a West Indies “Sundowner”.

Not quite sure why all these West Indies cocktails are showing up all of a sudden, but here’s another.

Described as a “Sundowner”, according to the Wiktionary, that means, “A cocktail consumed at sunset, or to signify the end of the day. A cocktail party in the early evening.”

Being 3/4 booze, this is a pretty stiff way to start the evening’s entertainment.

The cocktail called for “Bacardi Rum” for which I’d usually use a dry Cuban Style Rum. But I figured with the Italian Vermouth and Calvados, it wouldn’t hurt to use something with a bit more character.

I’ve always enjoyed the Havana Club 7 in Manhattans, it has just enough rough character that it makes sense to take the edges off with a bit of vermouth. Works here, lending a bit of aged character and sweetness to the drink.

Whist is a classic English trick-taking card game which was played widely in the 18th and 19th centuries. It derives from the 16th century game of Trump or Ruff, via Ruff and Honours. Although the rules are extremely simple, there is enormous scope for scientific play.

Apparently originating in the early 17th century, the now obsolete adjective “whist” and variant spelling “wist” (in which the word wistful has its roots), meant quiet, silent, and/or attentive. The adverb wistly is also defined as meaning intently.

In its heyday a large amount of literature about how to play whist was written. Edmond Hoyle, of “According to Hoyle” fame, wrote an early popular and definitive textbook, A Short Treatise on the Game of Whist. It is important to note that this game, called “French ruff” by Charles Cotton, is similar to écarté. English ruff-and-honours, also described by Cotton, is similar to whist. If we admit that ruff and trump are convertible terms, of which there is scarcely a doubt, the game of trump was the precursor of whist. A purely English origin may, therefore, be claimed for trump (not la triomphe). No record is known to exist of the invention of this game, nor of the mode of its growth into ruff-and-honours, and finally into whist.

Huh, now that I think about it, the Whist Cocktail is very similar to the Corpse Reviver No. 1, with Rum instead of Brandy. Well, if you start your day gaining steam from a Corpse Reviver No 1, I guess it makes sense to end it quietly, with its cousin the Whist Cocktail.

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.

Twelve Miles Out Cocktail

Twelve Miles Out Cocktail
1/3 Bacardi Rum. (3/4 oz Vale d’ Paul Aguardiente Nove de Santo Antao)
1/3 Swedish Punch. (3/4 oz Underhill Punsch)
1/3 Calvados. (3/4 oz Monteuil Calvados Reserve)
Shake (I stirred) well and strain into cocktail glass. Squeeze orange peel on top.

When my friend Stephen Shellenberger (aka Boston Apothecary) was in town, he stopped by Heaven’s Dog for a drink.  As if a visit from this young drink visionary weren’t enough, he also brought in a couple bottles of Rum from Cape Verde called “Vale d’ Paul Aguardiente Nove de Santo Antao” for me to try.

At the time, I wasn’t really drinking, so didn’t get much of a chance to appreciate the gift.  But I was struck by the similarity of the Aguardiente to Agricole Style Rums.

A few nights later, Michael Lazar (aka Mr. Manhattan) stopped by, so I gave him a taste of the Aguardiente. Interestingly, he had first been introduced to Agricole Style Rums in Guadalupe, and really enjoyed them.  Since that time, he had tried many Agricole Rums from Martinique, but never quite gotten the same kick out of the Martinique Rum that he had gotten out of the Rums from Guadalupe.  The leaner nature of the Martinique Rums just didn’t jive with his memory of the fruity, delicious rums of Guadalupe. The Vale d’ Paul Aguardiente, he thought, was closer to the style of Rums he remembered from that Caribbean Island.

When I was trying to think of an interesting drink to use the in the Twelve Miles out, it was exactly that fruity character that I thought would match well with the Calvados in this drink.

For a mostly booze drink, this isn’t bad.  It should be almost as cold as you can possibly get it, or it will seem too sweet, but it is kind of nice. The Calvados, Rum, and Punch really mesh into something else which is quite interesting, yet at the same time all the elements are present and available.  The aroma from a generous piece of orange peel is definitely a critical element.

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.

Three Miller Cocktail

Three Miller Cocktail

1 Teaspoonful Grenadine. (1 Teaspoon Small Hand Foods Grenadine)
1 Dash Lemon Juice. (1 Dash Lemon Juice)
2/3 Brandy. (1 1/2 oz Cognac Park V.S.O.P.)
1/3 Bacardi Rum. (3/4 oz Rene Alambic Rum)

Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.

In Harry McElhone’s book “Barflies and Cocktails”, a drink with these ingredients is called “The Three Mile Limit”, referring to the distance a ship had to be from shore to evade the long arm of the law. McElhone also notes, “This cocktail was invented at Harry’s New York Bar, Paris, by “Chips,” Brighton, the popular Bartender. One of the effects of the Volstead Act, people get busy when outside of the three miles.”

While, “The Three Mile Limit” is a fine, if somewhat literal, name for a cocktail, it doesn’t really roll off the tongue. You can certainly imagine that name being shortened rather quickly to, “The Three Miler”. What happened for Craddock to rename it “The Three Miller”, we will never know, but it is a rather better name than either Three Miler or Three Mile Limit.

The cocktail itself is of the mostly booze sort, which, aside from the Super Extra Dry Martini, has largely gone out of fashion with modern drinkers. Probably, if someone were to ask me for this in a bar, I would make something like: 1 1/2 oz Brandy, 1/2 oz Rum, 1/2 oz Lemon, 1/2 oz Grenadine. Or if they were young, maybe even, 1 oz Brandy, 1/2 oz Rum, 3/4 oz Lemon, 1/2 oz Grenadine, 1/2 oz Simple Syrup. But either way, we’re getting pretty far from the almost all booze of the original formulation, which I even found a bit hard going, basically a glass of cold Brandy.

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.

Tanglefoot Cocktail

Tanglefoot Cocktail
1/6 Orange Juice. (1/2 of 3/4 oz Blood Orange Juice)
1/6 Lemon Juice. (1/2 of 3/4 oz Lemon Juice)
1/3 Bacardi Rum. (3/4 oz Barbancourt White Rum)
1/3 Swedish Punch. (3/4 oz Underhill Punsch)
Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.

“T”! Wow! How many cocktails can be in T, U, V, X, Y, and Z? Well, actually, there are a fair number of cocktails in T and W, about an 100 more “Cocktails” before I hit the real final stretch of fizzes, juleps, cups and other “Fancy Drinks”. Still reason enough to “Smile”.

In his book, “Barflies and Cocktails,” Harry McElhone notes this is a “Recipe by Charly Kinney at Harry’s New York Bar, Paris.”

I only had a blood orange, so that’s what I had to use in the cocktail.

I was also feeling like a funkier rum would be a better complement to the Swedish Punch, so went with the Barbancourt.

Was definitely right about that!  This was quite a tasty formulation, with the tart early season blood oranges, lemon, Barbancourt, and Swedish Punch.  If you’ve got Swedish Punch, this would definitely be on my list of the top 2 or 3 cocktails to make with it.

Strangely, the best definition I can find for Tanglefoot is “cheap whiskey”.  I’m kind of guessing, this might be a drink that would result in your tangling up your dancing feet, that is, if you drank 3 or 4.

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.

Sunshine Cocktail (No. 2)

Sunshine Cocktail (No. 2)
The Juice of 1/4 Lemon. (Juice 1/4 Lemon (about .25 ounce))
2 Dashes Crème de Cassis (5ml/Teaspoon Brizard Creme de Cassis)
1/2 French Vermouth. (1 oz Noilly Prat Dry)
1/2 Bacardi Rum. (1 oz Havana Club Anejo Blanco)
Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.

What Sunshine Numbers 1 and 2 have to do with one another, is anyone’s guess. Clearly there is no familial resemblance based on ingredients.

What we do have is a rather light and gussied up version of the Bacardi Cocktail (Rum, Grenadine, and Lime or Lemon Juice). The addition of Dry Vermouth softens the impact of the rum and the Cassis stands rather head and shoulders above the average Grenadine. Well, either that, or it is an El Presidente with a bit of Lemon.

Either way, quite a pleasant cocktail.

Heck, this would be even nicer doubled and served over ice with some soda, especially on a hot day!

Again struggling with the light meter on this one, so apologies for the murky appearance of the photo.

If you see Lauren Bacall coming, be sure to hand her a glass of Sunshine BEFORE you whistle.

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.

Sonora Cocktail

Sonora Cocktail
1 Dash Lemon Juice.
2 Dashes Apricot Brandy.
1/2 Applejack or Calvados.
1/2 Bacardi Rum.
Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.

So I actually got to making the Sonora Cocktail on May 5th this year, a.k.a. Cinco de Mayo, a holiday we in America tend to celebrate as if it were “Mexican Independence Day”. We eat fajitas with flour tortillas, drink slushy Margaritas, and slug down Corona with lime.  All very authentic.  If you are a tourist in Cancun.

To quote the wikipedia article about Cinqo de Mayo:

Cinco de Mayo (Spanish for “fifth of May”) is a holiday held on May 5 that commemorates the Mexican army’s unlikely victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862, under the leadership of General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín. It is celebrated primarily in the state of Puebla and in the United States. While Cinco de Mayo sees limited significance and celebration nationwide in Mexico, the date is observed nationwide in the United States and other locations around the world as a celebration of Mexican heritage and pride. Cinco de Mayo is not Mexico’s Independence Day, the most important national patriotic holiday in Mexico.

I am unclear why we Americans always seem to celebrate holidays which are relatively insignificant in their countries of origin (see St. Patrick’s Day), but we do, so there really isn’t much to do about the whole thing. Either embrace the madness or stay away from the mobbed bars on those days.

Anyway, here we have another drink where a relatively neutral, and inexpensive, spirit is probably being used as an extender for the rather more expensive one, in this case Calvados.  I figured, what the heck, it’s Cinco de Mayo and the cocktail is called “Sonora”, why not use a relatively neutral tequila in this puppy instead of Rum?  Though I was a bit worried about the vegetal notes in the Tequila and the Calvados clashing in an unpleasant manner.

2.5ml Lemon Juice (aka a half barspoon. mine happens to be 2.5ml, yours may not be.)
5ml Brizard Apry (aka a barspoon. mine happens to be 5ml, yours may not be.)
1 oz Groult Reserve Calvados
1 oz Tequila Ocho Plata*

Oof, that was not good.  As I suspected, the vegetal notes of the Calvados and the tequila are too much for this basically all booze concoction.  Let’s try that again.

5ml Lemon (aka a barspoon. mine happens to be 5ml, yours may not be.)
5 ml Brizard Apry
1 oz Laird’s Bonded Apple Brandy
1 oz Tequila Ocho Plata*

Hm, not bad, but too sour, and still awfully boozy.  Substituting the less vegetal Laird’s Apple Brandy definitely improves this cocktail.  I could see some people enjoying this, *cough*David Embury*cough* but it isn’t my style.

shy 1/4 oz Lemon
long 1/4 oz Brizard Apry
1 oz Laird’s Bonded
1 oz Tequila Ocho Plata*

OK, I think this is a far as I can stretch the original recipe and still call it a Sonora-ish cocktail.  It’s not bad.  Still, at this point, I’m beginning to think the Sonora is a lost cause.  Can I just have a Manhattan, stat?  Even a Tequila Sour (aka Tommy’s Margarita) would make me happy?  Please?

Most importantly, should you order this cocktail during the next Savoy Night at Alembic Bar, May 23rd, 2010?  Well, it’s probably better with rum than it is with Tequila, still, it will be made to the Savoy Spec at Alembic, that is, pretty much all booze.  Unless you’re looking for a quick buzz, I’d avoid it.

*The Tequila Ocho Plata was sent to me by a marketing firm promoting the brand. Score!

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.