One advantage I have in my career – and believe me, I thank my lucky stars every day for my good fortune in this regard – is that I travel a lot. And when I do travel, I get to visit the greatest bars in the world and spend time picking the brains of the world’s greatest bartenders.
The most recent drink to grace our cocktail list is the result of my travels.
Taking inspiration from many sources, my initial interest in bitter, sour and sweet with a distinctly tropical bent was taken directly from the ever-brilliant Giuseppe Gonzalez and his now-famous Trinidad Sour.
While I, and the rest of the world, was taken by the combination of bitter, herbal, sweet flavors, it never really struck me as a an extensible sort of drink style until I came across Andrew Bohrer’s amaro-based Mai Tai variation called the “Elena’s Virtue”. Now here was a drink with legs, and a hint of what was to come in the world of cocktails, in my humble opinion.
But what New York and Seattle do well, San Francisco often does better, and usually with a lot more Fernet Branca, and that’s the conversation I had with Josh Harris while competing in the Domaine de Canton finals in St. Maarten this spring. And after tasting his simple concoction of ginger liqueur, pineapple and Fernet Branca I knew it was time for me to get my feet wet and try my hand at the herbal tropical sour.
The result has been a smash hit at the bar, as it very much follows in the style of our restaurant bar, a reflection of the crafted European style of cooking that emerges from the kitchen on a nightly basis. In other words, earthy, sour, herbal flavors do very, very well where we work.
Put all of this together, throw in a desire to explore the dusty, neglected bottle of Drambuie, and an early morning racking one’s brain to come up with a drink name (the original intent was Brixton Club) and a star was born:
Kingston Club
1½ oz Drambuie
1½ oz pineapple juice
¾ oz lime juice
1 tsp Fernet Branca
3 dashes Angostura bitters
Shake ingredients with ice and finish with 1 oz soda water. Strain mix over fresh ice into a chilled collins glass and garnish with an orange twist.
A side project, an experiment or just a simple curiosity that turned into a delicious phenomenon that we're still serving to much delight at our bar, barrel aged cocktails explore the gentle manipulation of a drink's flavors over time. This post details the inspiration, the history and the methods behind my barrel aged cocktails.
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.
Turned off by the glop you find in the grocery store, and unable to endure another long egg and cream whipping session, I set out to build an egg nog recipe from the ground up that retained the character of the orginal formula, was easy to make in a few minutes at home or at the bar, and tasted absolutely delicious. See if you agree with the result.
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 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.
Quick! Can you name the five main whisk(e)y-producing countries in the world? Scotland? Check. Ireland? Mmm-hmm. Canada? Yep. United States? Definitely.
But then you’d go, “Five?”, and I’d be all, “Yeah, five!”
And then you’d be all, “Like, where else?”
And then I’d be all, “Japan, dude!”
And you’d be all, “No way!”
And I’d be all, “Fully!”
And then for proof I would show you Chris Bunting’s blog Nonjatta, which means “I drank it all”. Like, literally. Nonjatta is all about Japanese whiskey, which is really helpful when you live in BFE and can’t get any where you live, because then you can learn all about it and sound smart anyway.
After a brutal weekend of making drinks for what seemed like every single graduate of the University of Oregon this weekend (and their parents), I’m propping myself up at my computer to once again take part in the Mixology Monday festivities.
I did some advance planning (a first) and started working on this recipe last month. The theme of this Mixology Monday is cocktails that use cream-based liqueurs, but I’m going to go out on a limb and show you how to make your own Irish Cream instead.
I cobbled this recipe together from a variety of online sources, and then tweaked the recipe to satisfy my palate and the palates of those I work with and serve. I think it’s a success.
On a busy night, there is always one guy lurking somewhere in the bar who will try to make you a rose out of a paper cocktail napkin as a romantic gesture.
This man is Satan and he drives a van. Do not trust him.
I like to use Matusalem Platino or Bacardi Silver rums in my mojitos. Since they were Cuban companies before the tide of revolution sent them packing for Puerto Rico, I feel it’s the closest I’m going to get to real Cuban rum in my mojito during this pointless embargo. That said, experiment with other silver rums and see what works best with your palate.
While working on a host of new drinks for the El Vaquero drink menu, I found several references to a Nacional Daiquiri, created at the Hotel Nacional in Havana, Cuba using apricot brandy.
Never able to leave well enough alone, I fooled around with proportions and flavors until I came up with this twist on the hotel’s famous daiquiri. It’s been a huge hit this spring.
1.5 oz Bacardi Superior rum
.75 oz apricot brandy
1 oz fresh lime juice
.75 oz simple syrup
2 generous dashes Fee Brothers Peach Bitters
Shake ingredients well over cracked ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lime wheel.
The good news is that my dear friend (and one hell of a bartender) Sean Bigley over at Ultimate Bar Chef is hosting a cocktail competition this summer and he wants you to participate. And, if you win, you can take home a cool $1,750.
Loathe as I am to suggest that you read anything other than the gospel that I hand down to you at three in the morning twice a week, I should admit that another one of my favorite blogs is Cocktails with Camper English. Here’s Camper in his own words:
Camper English is a cocktails and spirits writer for publications including the San Francisco Chronicle, San Francisco Magazine, Imbibe Magazine, Out Magazine, Wine & Spirits Magazine, and Stuff Magazine. This blog is a celebration of drinks, drinking venues, drink making, drinking, and drunks, including home bartending experiments, visiting venues in San Francisco, and sharing universal booze news.
The writing is as informed as it is hysterical. You can see his full website here, and be sure to check out the Hate Blog:
People who say, “I love your Hate Blog, Camper!” Get a life, InterNerd.
Sour mix is a gateway drug. It can lead you down a very dark path, or it can open up a new world of fresh flavors or ingredients. As proof of this, I submit to you two examples:
One scenario involves the novice bartender using prepackaged mix as a medium for all sorts of vile concoctions. Let’s face it: bland, weak, artificially-flavored sour mix is the vodka of non-alocholic mixers. Add some raspberry to it, it tastes pretty much like raspberry. Add some whiskey and it’s, uh, flavored whiskey. I guess.
But this other path is one that I’ve been asked a lot about lately, and is the subject of this article: how do you make and properly apply fresh sour mix to cocktails?
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 [...]
