Stir ingredients in ice, serve straight up with a cherry
Many in the cocktail set say that this should only properly be made with an American whiskey. I think such narrow provincialism has no place in the modern world, and generally use Canadian Club. But I’ve also had great success using Old Overholt rye whiskey. And there are many good bourbons on the market these days.
Stir on ice, serve straight up with shredded $100 bill on the rim. Top off with a quick pour of French champagne.
This is a drink to have in public, so people will know that you have enough money to throw it away on dumb crap like shredded $100 bills, and to ruin good cognac by mixing it with other ingredients. Even if you don’t actually have that kind of money, people will think that you do. And if they think you have money to throw around, they’ll want to get their share, so they will suck up to you a bit. And isn’t that what you want?
Note: Substitute Armagnac to make a De La Souche.
Postscript: This post may be a joke. It would behoove you not to try making a Conspicuous Consumption cocktail. If you have $100 bills to shred, I’d encourage you to send them to me. I’ll shred them for you.
In England, this is a traditional Christmas drink. I tried it the first time about a year ago at a bar, but it wasn’t until I made it for myself that it won me over. It’s a pretty serious drink, for those already well versed in gin and Angostura.
1 1/2 oz. gin (I’d recommend Hendrick’s gin or something else with spicy, as opposed to floral, overtones)
Several dashes Angostura bitters
Stir on ice, serve straight up in a cocktail glass.
This drink has its origins in the coastal cities of England and its colonies, two centuries ago. Seamen, in pubs while on shore, would take the drink as a general curative. Gin was supposed to be a remedy for numerous illnesses, from the plague to gout. Angostura bitters, meanwhile, were and are an effective means of combating stomach sickness.
It has been a long week, nay, a long month. So the impetus for this post is more than welcome.
The Rusty Nail:
1 1/2 0z Scotch (feel free to eyeball it)
1/2 oz Drambuie (again, no need to dirty the measuring cup)
Serve on ice in a tumbler or old-fashioned glass
And it’s that simple!
This is a drink well suited to cold weather. It was invented by some big-shot bartender in the 40s or 50s and popularized by Hugh Hefner, which to my mind is not a very interesting story. More interesting is that the copy on the Drambuie bottle is a bunch of flim-flam. The Drambuie people would have you believe that the recipe was bestowed upon their family by Charles II when they gave him refuge from the New Model Army at the conclusion of the English Civil War. The story is full of holes: there is no evidence linking the recipe to Charles II, and title to the Drambuie company has changed hands a bunch of times — the current owners just happen to have the same family name as the original owners (the Scots make do with just a few). But in Scotland as in the West, when the facts contradict the legend, print the legend.
This is a cocktail that practiced and worldly connoisseurs will often name as their favorite. I’ve served it to a number of guests and they almost always are wildly enthusiastic about it.
1 1/2 oz. gin
1/4 oz. Maraschino liqueur
1/8 oz. creme de violette
1/2 oz. fresh lemon juice
Shake or stir, serve straight up with a cherry garnish
Now, two of those ingredients are rare and somewhat pricey. Most people don’t just have them sitting around. But I can assure you that if you buy a bottle of each, they will last you a very long time. Both liqueurs have such forceful flavors that they can only be used in tiny amounts. Also, the gin needs to be a fairly smooth, flowery gin like Beefeater, not a spicy gin like Hendrick’s.
The cocktail’s origins are obscure. It seems to have had the misfortune of being invented right before Prohibition, and thus it did not really establish itself the way that martinis and Manhattans had been able to. I have evidence that the aviation is now making a comeback, though, as the bartenders at the fancy places nearby are familiar with the recipe. I hope the trend continues.
1 1/2 oz. or thereabouts grapefruit juice (fresh or not)
Serve on ice in a tumbler or old-fashioned glass with a salted rim
The salty rim makes the drink. This is a refreshing drink good for a hot day. It is miles better than its vodka-based cousin, the Greyhound. I know nothing whatsoever of its provenance, so I must be uncharacteristically short-winded in recommending it.
I did a bartending gig this evening. It was enjoyable and interesting. The degree to which people’s behavior towards me is different depending on the role I occupy has always intrigued me. The most popular order today, after the Margarita, was the mojito. It’s a pretty good drink.
1 oz. white rum
1 oz. fresh lime juice
1 oz. sugar
fresh mint, several sprigs
Put the mint at the bottom of an old-fashioned or highball class, pour the sugar on top of it, and pour the lime on top of the sugar. Muddle these ingredients until the sugar is well dissolved, and mint well crushed. Now add the rum and some ice. Garnish with lime.
Whatever you do, do not buy the “mojito mix” that is sold at the store. That stuff is crap. Using real lime juice and real sugar makes a much better drink.
This drink seems to be a traditional beverage out of Cuba. It seems that for a very long time, it has been what field workers there drink during their breaks, to fight off the heat. And indeed, it’s good as a coolant. Today was a hot day, and I think that’s one reason so many people wanted this drink specifically. It’s interesting that what works for a thirsty Cuban field hand in 1893 also works for a thirsty middle-class party-goer in San Leandro in 2010.
Just to be tiresome, I want to note that this drink is interesting in that it is both a sour and a bittered drink. It follows the “sour” recipe (a spirit, with equal parts sweetener and citric acid) and also the “bitter” recipe (a spirit, with both a sweetener and a bitter). The mint here is playing the role of a bitter. It is interesting to taste something that interacts at once with both the sour and bitter receptors on the tongue.
Garnish with slice of lime. Serve on ice in an old fashioned or highball glass.
Yeah, of course it’s an obvious one. The name describes the recipe. But I’m in a hotel room here, OK? Simplicity is of the essence. Also, the G&T is a great staple because it’s one of the few drinks almost impossible to screw up. That said, I’ve come across bartenders who have somehow found a way.
Like many alcoholic beverages, the gin and tonic got its start as a medicinal product. Researchers found that quinine was a silver bullet that made people insusceptible to malaria, which had been plaguing the British navy down in the tropics. But how do you get the seamen to consume quinine, a very bitter alkaloid? The best answer the British came up with was to mix it with a sweetener and some booze. It worked! The French dealt with the same issue by creating Dubonnet.
Similarly, the French liqueurs Benedictine and Chartreuse, and the Scottish liqueur Drambuie, were initially supposed to be all-purpose medicines. I believe the Chartreuse people still claim that it is health-enhancing. Whiskey was the result of Scottish monks’ years searching for a “water of life” that would make them live longer. Cognac resulted from similar efforts in France. Bitters have a calming effect on the stomach, and so were once used by navies to battle mal de mer. The Italian family of bitters, such as Campari, were supposed to be good for the liver. Vermouth was created as a vehicle with which to take wormwood, which was used to treat something or other. So many drinks we think of as simple refreshments were once marketed as medicine. It’s a rather funny irony of history.