Not to be confused with the Spanish wine-and-fruit-based alcoholic beverage sangria, sangrita (meaning “little blood”) is a traditional accompaniment to a tequila served completo; a non-alcoholic sipper that cleanses the palate between fiery doses of agave.
Years ago I was taught that sangrita is a blend of tomato and orange juices, with the addition of something spicy (hot sauce, typically) for a little kick. But further research has convinced me that this American sangrita recipe, while still enjoyable and certainly prevalent, is not altogether authentic.
Real sangrita from the Lake Chapala region of Jalisco is made with Seville orange and pomegranate juices, with powdered chiles added for heat. Taking into account that even the most cocktailian bartender (professional or otherwise) doesn’t typically stock sour oranges or pomegranate juice behind the bar, I’ve worked up a recipe that should approximate the flavor of this spicy little sour orange and pomegranate chaser while still providing an authentic experience.
1 oz orange juice (freshly-squeezed)
¾ oz - 1 oz lime juice (depending on the sweetness of your oranges)
½ oz real pomegranate grenadine
3 dashes hot sauce or ¼ tsp chile powder
Mix ingredients, chill, and serve.
This is far from the final word on sangrita. I’ll still continue to enjoy the tomato varieties (1,2,3), but I think you’ll find a brightness and depth of flavor from this version that plays better with a wider variety of mezcals and tequilas than its heavier gringo cousin.
What’s your experience with sangrita? Chime in with your stories and recipes in the comments section.
One question I'm often asked is "Do you have any drink-related book recommendations?" Well, funny you should ask, I've compiled a list of the ten books every professional bartender or home mixologist should own. I keep every one of these close at hand and have read most of them several times. I suggest you do the same.
It's always mojito season somewhere, so this advice is timely in your area about half the year. Wether you're making them or simply enjoying them, this advice will help you look like a pro in no time at all.
The flavors of the Richmond Gimlet are imbued with sunshine. Fresh mint mingling with the herbaceousness of gin and the tartness of lime have made this drink a Eugene classic for many years now.
You'll get a lot of snarky advice on this site about how to make a proper drink, but if you ever need to know what not to do, this is the video for you.
The world of booze can be mystifying to people that don't work in bars or around alcohol all the time. I hear a lot of assumptions about the industry I'm in that are - much like 90% of what you hear in bars - completely false. Here are a few you've probably heard yourself.
The debate rages on: Should we try to look cool and crack open the Boston shaker or be tidy professionals and use the Hawthorne strainer the way God intended? Be sure to leave your two cents in the comments section.
The traditional garnish for a Pisco Sour is a couple of drops of bitters in the foam, but I've never been particularly impressed with the way these few paltry drops of bitters sat in their little egg-white mattress and didn't play along with the rest of the drink. I envisioned a Pisco Sour with a uniformly-distributed bitters-scorched foam: slightly crisp as the fire burnt the sugars, and slightly warm as the foam insulated the rest of the frosty cocktail from the heat. A pisco creme brulée in a glass!
I get so many visitors looking for tips on how to write a bartending resume that I thought I should finally post a tutorial on how to write your own. Click the headline to read more.
I always love showing up to a party with a gallon jug of pre-mixed margaritas, so I've decided to share my recipe. This margarita recipe is the perfect blend of strong, sweet, and sour. But be warned: this recipe packs a serious punch.
There isn't much I can say about this video that hasn't been said already. If you've read anything I've written about cocktails, you'll understand why this video symbolizes everything wrong with the state of bartending in America today. Watch and learn, but be warned: this one isn't for the feint of heart.
About Me
My name is Jeff Morgenthaler and I'm the head bartender at Bel Ami in Eugene, Oregon.
I'm 36, I've been tending bar for 12 years and writing about it for 5. Mixing drinks has become something of a passion for me in recent years, and I strive to elevate the experience of having a drink from something mundane to something more culinary.
The writing I do here is intended as a work in progress. My recipes are like my opinions: they are constantly being revised and refined as I work them through my mind and my fingers. Comments and participation are encouraged, so please don't feel the need to tread lightly here.
One of my favorite things about the holidays is getting to spend a lot of time in airports. Since I’m usually stuck safely behind a bar five nights a week, it’s nice for me to get right in there with a swarming throng of people and be corralled through a series of lines for an hour or more.
So, to rinse off whatever anxieties I’ve accumulated during a day’s travel, I like to unwind by doing a little bar research once I arrive at my destination. Being in Los Angeles to visit my sister, and knowing where I’d go if I were Chuck Taggart, I headed downtown to sit at Southern California’s shrine to whiskey: Seven Grand.
When I’m visiting a bar of this caliber, I usually like to start with one of the classics, just to get a feel for the place. So my first cocktail was an expertly-prepared Sazerac, with Rittenhouse rye and Pernod. While I’ve got to say that I usually prefer Herbsainte to the syrupy-sweet Pernod, it became less of an issue with the punch of the 100-proof whiskey. In place of the traditional lemon peel, they used orange peel. Nice touch, dudes.
Next I decided to take a chance and venture onto the house specialty portion of the menu, something I almost never do unless I’m in a reputable establishment such as this (really, you have no idea what sort of abominations have been placed in front of me under the guise of ‘mixology’). So I ordered up an Elder Fitzgerald, which I’m guessing went something like this:
2 oz Old Fitzgerald 12 year-old bourbon
1 oz lemon juice
¾ oz St. Germain elderflower liqueur
½ oz simple syrup
1 egg white
…but I could be wrong. Old Fitzgerald is light and spicy, and a perfect compliment to the elderflower liqueur. The lemon adds the right amount to tartness, and the egg white builds a nice, creamy mouthfeel and a foamy head on the drink.
All good things must come to an end, and after four ounces of whiskey in me and very little sleep on the plane, it was about bedtime for Bonzo. Seven Grand is a little oasis in a desert of low-carb vodka/sodas and Red Bull drinks. I’ll be back, and next time I’m taking you with me, Taggart.
Yes, these are the words that I hear ringing in my ears as I find myself reading the news that Forbes Traveler has sympathetically chosen to include me in its very illustrious list of Cocktail Movers and Shakers this year.
Another drink-slinger who’s putting the Pacific Northwest on the cocktail map is Jeffrey Mortgenthaler[sic], bartender at El Vaquero in Eugene, Oregon. “There are amazing drinks being made in this region right now and people don’t really know about it.” He’s doing his best to change that. Of late, his favorite drink is an Old Fashioned using house-made orange bitters and his own brandied cherries.
While minding my own business yesterday, checking out free Dilbert cartoons and looking for sexy Pilates vlogs, I was rudely interrupted by Cate O’Malley of the Well Fed Network with the following announcement:
Just a heads up that your site is officially in the running for the 2007 Food Blog Awards - head on over to www.wellfed.net for the news.
I clicked my mouse or whatever on the blue words to download my trophy when I discovered that I was not alone: apparently there are others out there who write about beverages and such! Teeth gnarled, fists clenched and toes curled, I decided to check out the competition.
When I travel, I have a list of bars and bartenders that I want to see in whichever city I’ll be visiting. My recent trip to Manhattan was no exception, and after the Repeal Day party I made a point of heading out into the snowy night in eager anticipation of having some world-class cocktails.
The first bar on my list was the Flatiron Lounge, near Gramercy Park. All of the reviews I’d read told me that this was the place to be treated to some serious bartending, and judging by the cocktail menu that was placed before me, I was going to be in for a treat.
My day started at 1PM today, at a lunch at Pete’s Tavern, one of the oldest the oldest continually-operating bars in New York City. I had a great meal and met some of the people at Dewar’s that have been working so hard to spread the same message that I’ve been touting for some time now myself, people without whom some of you would never have heard of Repeal Day or contemplated its importance.
Thanks to the efforts of the good folks at Dewar’s scotch, I flew out this morning to New York City for Repeal Day.
After a few late take-offs and missed flights, I finally arrived in Manhattan in time to check in to my hotel and scrub my travel-weary face before heading out on the town for a short visit.
This being my first ever time hosting Mixology Monday, I’m a little nervous. So bear with me. Also, my schedule has taken a turn for the busier… I’m leaving tomorrow morning to celebrate Repeal Day with the folks from Dewar’s scotch in New York City!
As Repeal Day is coming up on the 5th, I thought we should all get in the spirit by mixing our favorite Prohibition-era cocktails. On to the entries!
Last month, I wrote about a recent nightmare involving Grey Goose vodka’s razor-sharp serrated metal foil… and my hand. Many of you shared your horror stories in the comments section.
Last week, Sven-Olaf Hansen, Global Brand Director for Grey Goose, replied to the comments with a promise that changes were on the way at Grey Goose:
I own a small library of books on the subject of bartending. Some of these books are geared toward the professional bartender, while others are written for the home mixologist. But regardless of the intended audience, almost every book I own heartily recommends that we use paring knives for cutting fruits and garnishes. […]
