Inspired by a visit to see Tony Conigliaro at the unnamed bar at 69 Colebrooke Row in London last fall, where Manhattans are aged in glass vessels to sublime and subtle effect, the barrel aged cocktails I’ve been serving at Clyde Common this year are a decidedly American curiosity.
The rub of aging cocktails in a glass bottle is that the whole premise is built upon subtlety, as we know that spirits aged in glass or steel do so at an unremarkable pace. Being from the United States, where – as everyone is aware – bigger equals better, I pondered the following question: what if you could prepare a large batch of a single, spirit-driven cocktail and age it in a used oak barrel?
A hundred some-odd dollars in liquor later, I was nervously pouring a gallon of pre-batched rye Manhattans into a small, used oak cask whose previous contents were a gallon Madeira wine. I plugged the barrel and sat back in anxious anticipation; if the experiment was a success I’d have a delicious cocktail to share at the bar – if it was a failure then I’d be pouring the restaurant’s money down the floor drain.
Over the next several weeks I popped open the barrel to test my little concoction until I stumbled upon the magic mark at five-to-six weeks. And there it was, lying beautifully on the the finish: a soft blend of oak, wine, caramel and char. That first batch sold out in a matter of days and I was left with a compelling need to push the process even further.
Now, three gallons of Negroni might not be practical for the home enthusiast, but the average bar or restaurant should be able to afford that sort of quantity quite easily. For those of you trying this at home, try searching the internet for one-gallon charred oak casks (stay away from the fancy lacquered kind meant for display in dens and 1980s wine bars) and be sure to let us know what you find in the comments section below.
We procured a small number of used whiskey casks from the Tuthilltown distillery and proceeded to fill them with a large batch of Negronis; and that’s when the magic of barrel aged cocktails grabbed our attention. After six weeks in the bourbon barrel, our Negroni emerged a rare beauty. The sweet vermouth so slightly oxidized, the color paler and rosier than the original, the mid-palate softly mingled with whiskey, the finish long and lingering with oak tannins. We knew we were on to something unique and immediately made plans to take the cask aging program to the next level.
Negronis are now prepared in five-gallon batches and poured into multiple bourbon barrels. Robert Hess’ ubiquitous Trident cocktail is currently resting inside single-malt barrels. The El Presidente (à laMatt Robold), Deshlers, Remember the Maines, they’re all receiving the oaked treatment in a little storage room in the basement of the restaurant that I refer to as my “office”.
Once the cocktail is aged long enough for my taste, I then drain the bottle, straining out any charred bits of wood, and bottle the contents for use by my bartenders. To order, the cocktail is then measured out and poured over ice in a mixing glass, stirred, strained into a cocktail glass, and then garnished with the appropriate garnish. It’s quick and simple, as all of the real work has already been done by the barrel.
Anyway, on to the recipes. As simple as it seems to do, I figured not everyone is going to want to do the math to get started on some of these recipes, so here are a few I’ve figured out:
Negroni
Makes Three Gallons
128 oz (approximately five 750ml bottles) dry gin
128 oz sweet vermouth
128 oz Campari
Stir ingredients together (without ice) and pour into a three-gallon oak barrel. Let rest for five to seven weeks and pour into glass bottles until ready to serve.
Manhattan
Makes Three Gallons
256 oz (approximately ten 750ml bottles) rye whiskey
128 oz (approximately five 750ml bottles) sweet vermouth
7 oz Angostura bitters
Stir ingredients together (without ice) and pour into a three-gallon oak barrel (I prefer a barrel that has previously stored sherry, Madeira, or port wine). Let rest for five to seven weeks and pour into glass bottles until ready to serve.
Trident
Makes Three Gallons
128 oz (approximately five 750ml bottles) aquavit
128 oz dry sherry
128 oz Cynar
7 oz peach bitters
Stir ingredients together (without ice) and pour into a three-gallon oak barrel (I prefer a used single malt barrel). Let rest for five to seven weeks and pour into glass bottles until ready to serve.
Feel free to leave any questions in the comments section below.
My problem with homemade tonic water has always been a flavor profile that was too esoteric for the general audience. This recipe takes some of the positive qualities people have come to understand from commercial tonic water and updated them with fresh ingredients.
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.
The problem with living in Oregon is the absence of little wooden shacks by the sea that sell cases of fresh ginger beer stacked on back porches. But with some readily-available ingredients, a recipe I've been revising for several years - and a few free minutes - I can easily transport myself to a little fishing boat on the ocean as I sip a Dark and Stormy made with fresh, house-made ginger beer.
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.
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.
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 Clyde Common in Portland, Oregon.
I've been tending bar since 1996 and writing about it since 2004. 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.
All this talk of Chocolate Martinis is giving me diabetes. Sure, you can pour a bunch of sweet, creamy liqueurs into a glass and call it the Fine Art of Mixology, but you’d be missing the whole point. Why not try something that’s going to reward you from start to finish, a drink that packs the Bacchanalian punch of brandy with the delicate flavors of chocolate and cream?
The Brandy Alexander, popular during the first part of the 20th Century, was likely a derivative of the Alexander Cocktail, which uses gin in place of brandy. Both are wonderful concoctions, but the brandy version achieved greater fame in the pantheon of cocktail culture, possibly because of brandy being revered as a rare and sophisticated spirit and gin having a more pedestrian image pre- and during Prohibition.
Okay. On to the drink. It’s so worth it to find whole nutmeg in your grocery store and grate it yourself, rather than using the stale, pre-grated crap you’ll find.
1.5 oz brandy or Cognac
1.5 oz dark (or light, if you prefer) crème de cacao
1.5 oz cream
Shake well over cracked ice and strain into a chilled nine ounce cocktail glass. Grate fresh nutmeg on top of the resulting foam and serve immediately.
Comments
7 Responses to “Brandy Alexander”
09 Jan 2007 at 10:49 am 1. hilsy
Your recent writings regarding the true definition of a Martini got me to thinking about a variation I like to prepare for myself at home.
I replace the Vermouth with Cointreau. I typically use only enough Vermouth or Cointreau to coat the ice cubes and dump out any excess before adding my gin (preferably Plymouth, though I’ve been enjoying locally made Cricket Club lately).
Is this still a Martini or would you consider it to more strictly be a cocktail?
17 Jun 2008 at 3:19 pm 2. Jay
Wow. I mean, just wow, man. What an amazing drink.
I had a few of these a while ago, and they didn’t quite seem to be my sort of thing. They tasted a bit like Bayleys with brandy. I didn’t really know where I went wrong. I thought I should have used something better than VS Cognac. I was wondering whether twitching the ratios a bit would do any good. Maybe I hadn’t shaken enough.
But then I managed to find whole nutmeg. Jeff’s right, nutmeg is a make-it-or-break-it ingredient in this cocktail. I mean, this is what gods have after dinner. Just amazing.
26 Dec 2008 at 10:24 pm 3. BethAnne
You’re right about the nutmeg — I bought it this year for my egg nog. Heavanly!
26 Dec 2008 at 10:24 pm 4. BethAnne
You’re right about the nutmeg — I bought it this year for my egg nog. Heavenly!
That looks like the kind of sweet drink I could get behind! Much as I might like a spiked milkshake, too many dessert-ish mixed drinks (I wont say “cocktails”) are just… inane. Bunches of sugary liquor sloshed together at random.
This is a drink with class. Thank you, sir. Bravo!
06 May 2009 at 8:40 pm 6. Kateastrophe
Nothing says disaffected, sexually nebulous upper class youth like a Brandy Alexander. I feel an urge to read Brideshead Revisited.
But in all seriousness, the drink is a classic in a way no chocolatini ever will be.
20 May 2009 at 11:50 pm 7. Jim
I am glad I read this if only to discover a wonderful drink. The Brandy Alexander is now part of my home bar menu! Thanks!
I absolutely hate it when someone sends me a box full of sex toys in the mail. Sure, it might sound like fun to some of you (you know who you are), but receiving a big box of free sex is much more trouble than it’s worth. Believe me. So I get a [...]
09 Jan 2007 at 10:49 am 1. hilsy
Your recent writings regarding the true definition of a Martini got me to thinking about a variation I like to prepare for myself at home.
I replace the Vermouth with Cointreau. I typically use only enough Vermouth or Cointreau to coat the ice cubes and dump out any excess before adding my gin (preferably Plymouth, though I’ve been enjoying locally made Cricket Club lately).
Is this still a Martini or would you consider it to more strictly be a cocktail?
17 Jun 2008 at 3:19 pm 2. Jay
Wow. I mean, just wow, man. What an amazing drink.
I had a few of these a while ago, and they didn’t quite seem to be my sort of thing. They tasted a bit like Bayleys with brandy. I didn’t really know where I went wrong. I thought I should have used something better than VS Cognac. I was wondering whether twitching the ratios a bit would do any good. Maybe I hadn’t shaken enough.
But then I managed to find whole nutmeg. Jeff’s right, nutmeg is a make-it-or-break-it ingredient in this cocktail. I mean, this is what gods have after dinner. Just amazing.
26 Dec 2008 at 10:24 pm 3. BethAnne
You’re right about the nutmeg — I bought it this year for my egg nog. Heavanly!
26 Dec 2008 at 10:24 pm 4. BethAnne
You’re right about the nutmeg — I bought it this year for my egg nog. Heavenly!
04 Mar 2009 at 6:45 pm 5. Ross
That looks like the kind of sweet drink I could get behind! Much as I might like a spiked milkshake, too many dessert-ish mixed drinks (I wont say “cocktails”) are just… inane. Bunches of sugary liquor sloshed together at random.
This is a drink with class. Thank you, sir. Bravo!
06 May 2009 at 8:40 pm 6. Kateastrophe
Nothing says disaffected, sexually nebulous upper class youth like a Brandy Alexander. I feel an urge to read Brideshead Revisited.
But in all seriousness, the drink is a classic in a way no chocolatini ever will be.
20 May 2009 at 11:50 pm 7. Jim
I am glad I read this if only to discover a wonderful drink. The Brandy Alexander is now part of my home bar menu! Thanks!