Posted by a Special Guest on 03.28.08 7:03 AM
Editor’s note: Our pal Sean returns once again to Drink of the Week guest-bartender duties with a delicious, prettily pink cocktail inspired by the fabulous girl in his life.
—-
Last week, we celebrated one lunar year with our daughter dog, Reese. Like proper San Franciscans, we simply had to throw a cocktail party to, um, mark the occasion. But what to serve? Salty dog? Perhaps. Bark-tini? Ugh, no. Greyhound? Now we’re talking.
Nothing more than vodka and grapefruit juice, the Greyhound can be lovely with brunch, but it’s maybe not the most interesting option for cocktail hour. Luckily, we had just finished our inaugural batch of pompelmocello, and so we decided to sub that in for some of the vodka. And being cunning linguists as we are, we dubbed our newfound concoction the Italian Greyhound.
The name was apt, for when we were researching breeds while ‘shopping’ for a dog, Italian Greyhounds were front-runners in our consideration. Apartment-sized, trainable and loving, they seemed like a good match for us. The one deterrent was that they have a tendency to burrow under blankets and pillows, and if you accidentally and unknowingly sit on one in its ersatz lair, you can kill it. Maybe, we thought, we wanted something a little sturdier. In the end, we got our Manchester Terrier mix pound puppy, who at 17 pounds swaggers with the attitude of a dog many times her size.
Alas, there already exists a cocktail called the Italian Greyhound, basically your standard Greyhound with a float of Campari on top. It’s just as well, for in tinkering with the recipe further, I decided vodka wasn’t really the way to go anyhow. In order to convert the greyhound into something worthy of a cocktail glass, I had to bump up the booze-to-juice ratio, and vodka just wasn’t bringing anything to the party. Gin, on the other hand, offered enough complexity to offset the acidity of the juice.
All that remained from the original inspiration was grapefruit juice, and smaller amounts of it, but I still wanted to honor its provenance. Anita suggested dubbing it the Levriero — Italian for greyhound — and so a new cocktail was fledged.
Levriero
1 oz limoncello (or pompelmocello)
1 oz gin
2 oz red grapefruit juice
Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with mint sprig or a twist.
Drink of the Week, drinks, holidays & occasions, preserving & infusing
6 Comments »
Posted by a Special Guest on 07.27.07 7:04 AM
Editor’s note: Inspired by our recent mojito post and his Kentucky-bred husband’s birthday this week, Sean returns to Drink of the Week guest-bartender duties. By featuring this classic, I think it’s safe to say that he’s absolved of any trauma inflicted by his last stint behind the bar. [wink]
——
I don’t remember just how I started
I only know that we should have parted
I stole a kiss, and then another
I didn’t mean to take it further
One mint julep was the cause of it all
— “One Mint Julep,” Rudy Toombs
Few cocktails are as storied, as fraught with history and tradition in America, as the mint julep. The very word “julep” evokes a paradoxical domestic exoticism: nostalgic visions of the Old South, of white-bearded men in linen suits coddling dogs named Belvedere. But when was the last time you ordered one in a bar?
Somehow, despite its technical similarities to the fashionable mojito, juleps have yet to catch on as a hipster sipper. Perhaps bourbon’s star has not yet risen as the booze of choice in the way that rye, gin and even cachaça have. (Mind you, bourbon is always in vogue at our household.) Maybe its Southern connotations render it undesirable for the too-cool-for-school crowd. Or could it be the special glassware?
Whatever the case, I am here to tell you that nothing is more refreshing than an ice-cold mint julep, condensation sweating down its sides, on a hot, muggy day. Heck, even on a foggy summer’s day here in San Francisco, they’re downright delish.
And then there’s those cups. While you don’t absolutely need julep cups, they do serve a practical purpose beyond merely being stylish and sophisticated (not that those are not reasons enough to use them). Optimally made from sterling silver, the julep cups’ metal sides chill quickly and help keep your drink cool as a cucumber. And let’s face it — the very sight of condensation on the side of the cup makes your mouth water in Pavlovian anticipation.
Like many Southern things — biscuits, fried chicken — mint juleps are simple enough, requiring few ingredients but also a light hand. Though it’s nothing more than mint, sugar, water and bourbon, balance is key. You don’t want a drink that’s too cloyingly sweet, chewing-gum minty or Molotov-cocktail strong. None of those things is particularly refreshing.
Like the mojito, the julep begins with a muddle, and this is where things begin to get complicated. Some recipes call for granulated sugar, others powdered sugar, others still simple syrup. Most recommend muddling the mint first and letting it steep for a few minutes. Yet Robert Duvall as the julep-sipping Captain in Thank You For Smoking extolled the virtues of crushing the mint on the ice.
I don’t know about you, but I’m a busy man. I’m not going to take the time to pluck only the most nubile leaves, to mill my sugar to the right grain or to hand-chisel my ice to a perfect consistency. I prefer to keep things simple — as in simple syrup. (Good thing I have a bunch on hand.)
Just muddle the mint in the syrup, cover with crushed ice and pour the bourbon over. Stir until well chilled, and then sip with an audibly refreshed “ah!”
But if all this is just too rich for your blood, you can still enjoy a proper julep at my new favorite watering hole, The Alembic. They feature the mint julep in their J Peterman-esque menu of cocktails old and new, and they serve it in a proper julep cup and everything. Just one mint julep is guaranteed to inspire spontaneous conversation from your neighbors. And who knows where it could go from there?
I do declare, I believe I’m getting the vapors!
Mint Julep
Several fresh mint leaves, preferably organic, plus sprigs for garnish
3/4 oz simple syrup
2 oz bourbon
crushed ice
club soda (optional)
Place mint leaves in the bottom of a julep cup and add the simple syrup. Muddle the mint leaves just enough to bruise them all over — you don’t want to crush them into a paste, just to release their minty goodness. Let stand for a minute or two to steep. Fill the cup with crushed ice. Pour the bourbon over the ice. Stir to combine and chill, until the cup is good and cold. If there’s room in the cup and you are so inclined, feel free to add a splash of club to lighten it up. Garnish with mint sprig.
If you want to make juleps for a crowd, muddling is too time-consuming. You can make a whole batch of mint-infused simple syrup by steeping a combination of fresh mint and mint tea bags in your syrup for a few minutes, then straining it well, squeezing the mint and teabags to release the maximum mint flavor. Pour the cocktail with the same proportions, minus the muddled mint.
Drink of the Week, drinks, other blogs, recipes
8 Comments »
Posted by a Special Guest on 04.27.07 7:04 AM
Editor’s note: We’re off to Seattle, so our pal Sean has agreed to man the bar in our absence. He illustrates the maxim that you can’t judge a book by its cover, or a tasty cocktail by its (dreadful) name. And, look! — it even features a locally made vodka. Hmm… Drink Local Challenge, anyone?
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title.
— Juliet, “Romeo and Juliet”
Romantic notions aside, I’m afraid there’s more to a name than fair Juliet would have you believe. Especially when we’re talking about cocktails.
Case in point: Amy and I recently attended an event at McCormick & Kuleto’s designed to showcase their program of classic American cocktails. In a function room with sweeping views over the Bay and Fisherman’s Wharf, a pair of bartenders talked about the place of the cocktail in American history extending back some 300 years; for example, they spoke of the Mint Julep’s origins in Virginia as opposed to Kentucky, and how a classic cocktail should have four elements: Liquor, water, sour and sweet. To complement all this boozy banter, they were of course shaking, stirring and pouring up cockatils — eight in all. But why, then, when talking about classic American cocktails, did they choose to kick the evening off with what they called a Raspberry Cosmimosa?
If I saw this drink on a menu, it would be absolutely the first thing I would not order. The name alone sends up a series of red flags, starting with the portmanteau portion of the moniker: Cosmimosa = Cosmopolitan + Mimosa. You’ll never find me ordering a Cosmopolitan in part because I think of them as grown-up Kool-Aid but mostly because I have yet to have one in a bar that didn’t royally suck. Mimosas are somewhat less offensive … except of course for that whole orange thing. To top matters off, the dangling “Raspberry” at the beginning smacks of some kind of superimposed flavoring, an unwelcome artifice in what was already becoming an overcomplicated concept.
But here’s the thing: It was good. It was balanced, bright, refreshing, and all-around tasty. It certainly had the four major elements: Vodka and champagne made up the alcoholic components; lime juice gave it tartness; orange and simple syrup pumped up the sweetness; and the shaking over ice gave it just enough dilution to open up the flavors.
They were generous enough to share the recipe, and I can attest it’s as good in the home as it was in the restaurant. In fact, this makes a wonderful party drink, as you can make the body of it in bulk, shake it up in batches and just float the champagne on a per-serving basis.
So what’s in a name? Plenty. But if, like Juliet, you are willing to look past that barrier, you may find much to love on the other side.
Raspberry Cosmimosa
2 fresh orange wedges
1 1/2 oz. raspberry-infused vodka
(the original recipe called for Stoli Raspberri, but I used Hangar One)
3/4 oz. simple syrup
3/4 oz. fresh lime juice
1/2 oz. cranberry juice
1 oz. Champagne or, if you prefer, prosecco
In a cocktail shaker, add the orange wedges and crush with a muddler. Add the remaining ingredients except champagne. Fill with ice. Shake vigorously for 5 seconds. Strain into a cocktail glass and top with champagne. Garnish with a twist of orange peel and a raspberry.
To make in bulk, change all measurements from ounces to cups, and mix everything but the bubbly in a pitcher. Follow the same instructions, shaking in batches. Serves 8.
Drink of the Week, drinks, locavore, recipes
1 Comment »
Posted by a Special Guest on 02.23.07 7:03 AM
Editor’s note: I don’t know about the rest of you, but I for one have missed Drink of the Week during its recent hiatus. (Perhaps that’s just a sign of how much I desperately need a cocktail, but I digress…)
This week’s guest-bartender duties fall to our friends Lauren & Paul, another pair of cocktail aficionados from our Seattle crew. Just looking at that gorgeous photo reminds me of the wonderful parties they host in their fabulous house, and all the nights we’ve spent together at the Zig Zag, Union, and other Jet City cocktail haunts.
Last fall, we took a wine-tasting trip to the Okanagan. (Don’t ask me why it’s spelled “Okanagan” in Canada and “Okanogan” in the US — it’s just one of those mysteries of life.) As we wandered around the little towns, we noticed each ice-cream parlor offered a flavor called “Tiger Tiger”.
After many days of seeing this oddly named ice cream, we had to try it. Turns out it’s orange and black-licorice ice cream swirled together to create a tiger-stripe effect. We decided the same flavor combination might make for a good cocktail. And so it does:
Tiger Tiger
2 oz. gin
3/4 oz. orange curacao
1/4 oz. lemon juice
splash Pernod
2 dashes orange bitters
Shake all ingredients, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with lemon peel.
Drink of the Week, drinks, recipes
2 Comments »
Posted by a Special Guest on 02.02.07 7:07 AM
Editor’s note: Our next guest behind the bar is our friend Dayne, who lives — and drinks — in Seattle with his wife, Wendy (of fondue mac & cheese fame).
When Anita asked for a guest drink submission, I was a bit stumped at first. Most of the more-interesting things we make come from recipes I’ve found online in the first place, so simply re-posting one of those seemed a little boring.
A while back, I’d read Paul’s post over at The Cocktail Chronicles about the Blood & Sand, and followed that up by reading Gary Regan’s article on the same drink. It seemed like an interesting drink, though a bit bizarre: I’d never been much of a Scotch drinker — that’s slowly changing — and Scotch in a cocktail sounded especially strange.
Early last fall, I finally got around to acquiring some Cherry Heering with the intention of making Singapore Slings, but realized I finally had the missing ingredient for a proper Blood & Sand. Digging through old boxes of liquor that had come into our marriage from who-knows-where (I blame my best man, who has brought open-bottle remnants to more than one party), I found some Scotch, put everything together in the original equal-proportion recipe, and took a sip.
Ugghh. Awful. Beyond bad.
OK, so maybe it was the Scotch. I don’t remember what brand was involved, but it made for a pretty horrendous cocktail. Could have been the vermouth too. Feeling that the drink deserve another try, I tested Ted Haigh’s 4:4:3:3 variation, with no better luck.
I mentioned my unsuccessful experiments to Murray and Kacy down at the Zig Zig, and both of them said the same thing: “Use rum instead” — an interesting possibility. Somehow, I’d never quite gotten around to trying this variation. But earlier this week, I pulled out all the makings and gave them a shake. The result was a pleasantly mild drink with a tiki-ish flavor profile, but much less sweet than most tropical concoctions.
Since that evening, I’ve tried another Blood and Sand with some Famous Grouse — again a party remnant, though coincidentally the same brand that Paul used in his original post — and Carpano Punt e Mes vermouth. Much more successful, and almost certainly closer to what the cocktail was intended to taste like.
But the rum variation is worthy in its own right. Using a new base liquor usually calls for a new name; it’s possible that someone’s already christened this drink elsewhere, but I haven’t been able to find it. So, I give you:
The Bloody Beach
3/4 oz. medium-bodied rum (I used Appleton V/X)
3/4 oz. cherry brandy (Cherry Heering or Cherry Marnier — don’t use a clear eau-de-vie)
3/4 oz. sweet vermouth (I used Carpano Punt e Mes)
3/4 oz. fresh-squeezed orange juice, strained
Shake all ingredients vigorously with ice, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
Drink of the Week, drinks, other blogs, recipes
1 Comment »
Posted by a Special Guest on 01.26.07 7:05 AM
Editor’s note: Over the next couple of months, we’ll be delegating Drink of the Week duties to a few of our cocktailian friends from time to time, as our bar supplies and equipment are rather limited in our temporary space.
First behind the stick is our friend and neighbor Erik, a talented amateur mixologist who’s currently working his way through the Savoy Cocktail Book, trying each drink in alphabetical order! Today, though, he shares the results of last night’s Robert Burns-influenced experimentation.
I had an idea to drink a Scotch-related cocktail last night, in honor of Burns Night, and Audrey Saunders’ Dreamy Dorini Smoking Martini was the first that occurred to me.
I composed the elements — 2 ounces of decent vodka, a couple drops of Henri Bardouin pastis, and a half an ounce of Jon, Mark and Robbo’s “The Peaty One” Scotch — and stirred them together.
Nope.
I didn’t like it.
I just kept thinking, this would have been better with vermouth instead of vodka. And how do I get this Band-Aid taste out of my mouth?
Maybe Islay-style malts just aren’t my thing.
I hated to be boring and retro, but I stirred together a hard-to-beat classic cocktail that’s even more fitting to the occasion.
Bobby Burns
1-1/2 oz. Italian Vermouth (I used Carpano Antica)
1-1/2 oz. Scotch whisky (I used Compass Box Asyla)
2 dashes Benedictine
Stir with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.
Drink of the Week, drinks, holidays & occasions, recipes
5 Comments »
