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.

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 la Matt 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.

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Barrel Aged Cocktails

If there’s one thing I hate about living in the Pacific Northwest, it’s the stretch of time from late October until late June, when the sun makes only the most occasional of appearances. I typically pack on an extra 10-15 pounds during those rainy months, party due to over-consumption of wintertime drinks like dark beer, egg nog, hot-buttered-anything and wassail. I wanted a drink for the winter that I could add to my cocktail menu that was more like the light, café-style cocktails I typically gravitate to during the summer.

Jerry Thomas prescribed a drink called “sangaree” that, to the best of our knowledge was a colonial adaptation of the Spanish “sangria”. The recipe, which calls for anywhere from 1½ to 4 ounces of port, Madeira, gin or brandy dolled up with sugar and dusted with nutmeg in a glass sounded less than exciting to me, but the challenge of updating this old chestnut sounded like a fun January task.

We began with ruby and tawny ports but found both way too sweet. White port got us much closer to our target, but it wasn’t until a healthy dose of dry vermouth was applied that we knew we were on to something. To provide additional depth and hint at the drink’s colonial origins we sweetened with a maple-nutmeg syrup and finished the whole thing off with a teaspoon of allspice liqueur and orange oil.

The Dry Vermouth Sangaree

3 oz dry vermouth
½ oz maple-nutmeg syrup*
1 tsp St. Elizabeth Allspice Dram
1 large strip orange peel

Shake everything – yes, even the orange peel – with ice until well-chilled and strain into a cold cocktail glass. Garnish with a fresh strip of orange peel.

*To make maple-nutmeg syrup, combine 8 ounces each of Grade B maple syrup and water, and 1 tbsp freshly-grated nutmeg. Simmer, covered, for 20 minutes. Let cool, strain out solids, bottle and chill.

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Dry Vermouth Sangaree

Well, folks, it’s time of year again. I repost this recipe every year because I’m a man on a mission. You see, I love egg nog, but I can’t stand the thick, gelatinous goop they sell at the grocery store. Even if you were to cut it with alcohol, it’s still so overly-pasteurized and full of preservatives that it would be anything but enjoyable to slug down at a Christmas party. So a few years ago, I set about concocting the simplest, tastiest Egg Nog recipe I could, and after many trials and errors, here’s what I came up with.

In terms of cocktail history, Egg Nog is nothing more than a brandy or rum (or both) flip made with the addition of cream or milk. The 1862 Bar-Tender’s Guide by Jerry Thomas calls for a nog made up of a tablespoon of bar sugar, a tablespoon of water, a whole egg, cognac, rum and milk, shaken and strained, with some nutmeg grated on top. The problem I have with Thomas’ recipe is all the extra water that comes from the melting of the ice, not to mention that extra half ounce he calls for. Watery egg nog, anyone? Yeah, no thanks.

So I did a lot of research, in cookbooks and on the web, and tried a bunch of different recipes and methods. Some called for cooking the eggs into sort of a custard, but that’s a heck of a lot of work and results in something that can only be described as thick glop. Others required separating the eggs, beating them independently, and folding them together. But again, it’s too thick and I’m too lazy.

This is the recipe I devised. It can be made in just about any home or bar, since the ingredients are fairly simple. It can be done entirely in a blender, so there are no whisks or beaters or rubber spatulas or stovetops needed. It yields two healthy servings, so you can easily multiply it to serve more. It doesn’t use a ton of heavy cream, so it’s fairly light. In other words, it’s practically perfect.

2 large eggs
3 oz (by volume) granulated sugar
½ tsp freshly-grated nutmeg
2 oz brandy
2 oz spiced rum (I use Sailor Jerry’s)
6 oz whole milk
4 oz heavy cream

Beat eggs in blender for one minute on medium speed. Slowly add sugar and blend for one additional minute. With blender still running, add nutmeg, brandy, rum, milk and cream until combined. Chill thoroughly to allow flavors to combine and serve in chilled wine glasses or champagne coupes, grating additional nutmeg on top immediately before serving.

One note about blenders. This recipe works great in home blenders, but the commercial models are designed to heat whatever they’re blending, which can result in scrambled eggs by the time you get around to the sugar. If you’re using a Vita-Mix or similar commercial blender, cut that initial blend time down to a quarter minute or so.

Enjoy!

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Egg Nog

You may or may not have known this, but I like making cocktails out of wine. Or things that were once wine. Or things that were made from wine. However you want to say it, I like making cocktails out of wine. So when I saw that there was a cocktail competition coming up that called for the use of sherry (a type of wine made from white grapes grown around the town of Jerez, Spain and fortified with brandy), I was like, “I’m all over this.”

So I reached for the Morgenthaler Standby Formula book and grabbed this old chestnut. First, I bolstered the sherry with something bitter, put in a touch of something sweet, and finished it with something absinth-y. Then I dumped that one down the sink and tried about ten other combinations. The result is this cocktail, The Solera Club.

I like wine-based cocktails, because they don’t punch you in the face the way, say, a 94-proof gin-based cocktail is going to. This means these drinks are going to be more versatile, and drinkable on more occasions than a big spirit-driven monster. A lot of my customers like to end the night with one of these low-proof sippers, but I take a more European tack myself and delight in them during the late afternoon, noshing on Marcona almonds and watching the sidewalk traffic without getting falling-down drunk.

So in the spirit of early autumnal afternoon sipping and enjoying the sunshine while it still lingers, here’s the recipe:

2 oz sherry (cream for a sweeter, rounder drink, dry sherry such as an amontillado for a more drier, more austere drink)
1 oz Cynar
½ oz creme de peche
1 tsp absinthe

Stir with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. If you’re going the cream sherry route, I’d recommend garnishing with a lemon twist as I’ve done here. If you’re using the drier, nuttier sherries, try using an orange twist.

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The Solera Club

“Here, see if you can make me something with this”, the liquor rep taunted as he dropped a bottle of aquavit on the bar. If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I don’t really work that well under pressure. I try, but it literally takes me weeks to come up with a new drink that I’m happy with. Maybe I’m slow, maybe I’m a perfectionist, doesn’t matter: I hate it when I have to work under pressure.

So I was especially vexed when this particular wiseass handed me a bottle of aquavit. For those of you who don’t know, is a traditional Scandinavian liquor flavored with caraway and – typically – other herbs such as fennel and anise. It’s delicious, but it’s unique and isn’t known for its superb mixability.

However, I knew the liquor boob was insinuating that I might not be able to rise to the challenge, so I whipped this up (after about three false starts). A small handful of visitors to the bar at Clyde Common have suggested that it might be one of the best drinks I’ve come up with so far, but I’ll let you be the judge of that. I just think it tastes delicious.

1 oz aquavit
1 oz applejack
¾ oz sweet vermouth
¼ oz yellow Chartreuse
1 dash Angostura bitters

Stir ingredients with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail coupe. Garnish with a large twist of lemon peel and serve.

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Norwegian Wood

With my recent move to Portland and consequent adjustment to a new work environment, new living situation and new selection of great bars and restaurants to explore, I’ve been a little lax on the new drink recipes.

Fortunately I have my cruel taskmasters at Boca Loca Cachaça to keep me toiling away, day and night, churning out recipe after recipe using their incredible product.

If you haven’t experienced Boca Loca yet, I urge you to give it a try as I firmly feel it is the finest cachaça available on the market today. The spirit is light and fresh, and free from a lot of the oiliness and heavy smoke you’ll find in other – sometimes inferior – cachaças available out there. There is grassiness, big stone fruit, some white pepper and a very light honey finish. Boca Loca is a beautiful product and it’s a pleasure to work with.

So for the spring I set about creating a series of cocktails that showcased the cachaça in a different way. This is my first entry.

Inspired in part by a gorgeous cocktail created by my good friend Gonçalo de Souza Monteiro, the Comte de Sureau, I turned the drink around and twisted the proportions to highlight the cachaça, and then finished the whole thing with a little lemon oil. It’s simple, petite, and a beautiful thing to sip on.

1½ oz Boca Loca cachaça
¾ oz Aperol
½ oz St. Germain elderflower liqueur

Stir ingredients with cracked ice and strain into a small chilled cocktail coupe. Garnish with a generous twist of lemon.

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Caneflower

This recipe is part two of my New Orleans Mixology Monday post. For the complete story behind this drink, please click here.

¾ oz Wild Turkey rye
¾ oz Clear Creek apple brandy
¾ oz Carpano Antica Formula vermouth
¼ oz Strega
2 dashes cinnamon tincture*
1 large strip orange peel

Stir ingredients over cracked ice. Strain into an ice-filled old fashioned glass and garnish with orange peel.

*To make cinnamon tincture, soak 4 ounces whole cinnamon sticks in 16 oz grain alcohol for three weeks. Strain solids and bottle.

And here’s a short video of the Autumn Leaves shot by Philip Beech:

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Autumn Leaves

“Try this.” The wine rep looked determined. The wine salespeople in town usually know better than to waste their time with me, as I have little-to-no influence on the wine list. If it’s a distilled product you’re trying to push – and if it’s not vodka – then I’m the man behind the bar to talk to. Otherwise, you’ll probably want to save your breath.

“It’s an Italian aperitivo and I think you’ll really like it.” She was aware of my fondness for Negronis and such and was certain I’d take a liking to the bottle of Vergano Americano she was presenting to me. Reminiscent of the drink of the same name, this Americano was a special type of Italian aperitif referred to as a chinato.

Chinati are Italian fortified wines, similar to vermouth. Originally solely flavored with quinine, they took on a life of their own sometime around the late 19th century and came to be infused with various herbs and other flavors. There is most certainly orange peel and possibly caramelized sugar in this product.

I had to have this bottle, but living in a small town sometimes means that the more esoteric liquors on the shelf don’t move as quickly as I’d like them to. Since I was afraid to buy a case and have it sit behind the bar waiting for me to hand-sell each individual glass, I figured it was time for a cocktail.

After several rounds of base liquors and bitters selections, it was time to try it out on the unsuspecting. “It’s quite strong, but really pretty right below the surface,” was the first comment I received.

So, voila: The Beauty Beneath.

2 oz Appleton Estate V/X rum
1 oz Vergano ‘Americano’ chinato
½ oz Cointreau
1 dash Fee Brothers’ Old-Fashioned bitters

Stir ingredients with cracked ice until combined and cold. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Express the oils from an orange twist over the surface of the drink and drop the spent twist into the drink.

If you can find the Fee Brothers’ Whiskey Barrel Aged bitters, grab ‘em. Unfortunately, my only bottle was in service when I stopped by the bar to pick up supplies for the photoshoot.

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The Beauty Beneath

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.

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How to Make Sangrita

In the bottom of a 10-12 oz glass (or a silver julep cup, if you’ve got one on hand) gently muddle together:

12 mint leaves
¼-½ oz simple syrup

Add to this mixture:

2 oz bourbon

Stir to combine ingredients, and fill glass with finely crushed ice. Garnish with the prettiest mint sprig you have, and serve.

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Mint Julep

An authentic Dark and Stormy made with Gosling’s rum and homemade ginger beer is the ideal prelude to summer, when the spring months are arriving like lions and one’s mind turns to thoughts of lambs.

The national drink of Bermuda, a true Dark and Stormy is never made with Jamaican ginger brew or weak ginger ale. Only the real stuff made in small batches will do, so try this recipe at home or seek out a case of Barritt’s or Blenheim if you can.

In a collins glass filled with ice, add:

2 oz Gosling’s Black Seal rum
5 oz ginger beer

Garnish with lime and serve immediately.

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Dark and Stormy

Just to warn you before you invest too much personal (or work, heh) time, there are no fruit liqueurs used anywhere in this post.

There is a liqueur made from flowers, which eventually turn into berries. But flowers aren’t a fruit. There is wine, which I guess comes from fruit. But I boil the booze out of it and add a bunch of sugar, so it’s not really a liqueur, it’s a fruit syrup. Sorta.

But I really, really wanted to share this drink with you, because it tastes incredible and it embodies the sort of building-layers-of-flavor thing I’ve been working on lately.

When I found my first bottle of St. Germain elderflower liqueur last year, I was – like many of you – inspired by its unique flavor and wanted to use it in a cocktail. I mixed it with vodka, I mixed it with gin, I mixed it with lemon juice, and I sweetened it with simple syrup. And everything I came up with ended up being remarkably similar to this drink, which – while delicious – lacked the complexity I was looking for in a drink to put on my cocktail menu.

Enter Sweet Cheeks Winery. Their 2006 Estate Pinot Gris has something you won’t find in too many Oregon wines: big, ripe, juicy white peaches on the palate. And when I tasted it, I knew I had to find a way to work this baby into a cocktail.

East of Eden

1½ oz Bombay gin
1 oz fresh lemon juice
¾ oz pinot gris syrup*
½ oz St. Germain elderflower liqueur

Shake ingredients over cracked ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. No garnish is necessary, as it will just get in the way of the luscious aromas rising from the glass.

*To make pinot gris syrup, simmer one bottle pinot gris (or try experimenting with other local white wines – this is one drink that can evoke a sense of place) over medium heat until reduced by half. Add 12 ounces sugar and stir until clear. Bottle and chill until ready for use.

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Mixology Monday: Fruit Liqueurs (Kinda)

I like to use Buffalo Trace’s Sazerac 6-Year rye in my Sazeracs. The nose is sweet and fruity, but the palate is nice and dry with a lot of spice – a perfect choice for the Sazerac experience.

Fill an Old-Fashioned glass with ice and water, and set aside to chill. Once cold, drain ice water and rinse with Herbsaint.

In a 16-oz mixing glass, combine:

1 sugar cube
-or-
¼ oz simple syrup

4 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters

Small splash water

Muddle together until sugar cube is dissolved (skip this step if using simple syrup, obviously)

Add:

2 oz rye

Fill mixing glass with ice and stir contents until well-chilled. Strain into Herbsaint-rinsed Old Fashioned glass. Twist lemon peel over drink to express oils, and discard peel. Serve!

And for more fun with Sazeracs, be sure to check out this discussion on proper Sazerac technique.

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Sazerac

I love brandy. I love to consume it, I love to sell it, and I love to mix with it. A few months ago, someone suggested I come up with a great Oregon cocktail, and as I scanned the backbar at work my eyes landed on one of my most beloved Oregon spirits, Clear Creek Apple Brandy.

If you come to Oregon for the first time, you’ll likely land in Portland. And while spending some time exploring that great city of ours should be one of the first things on your list, please take a day to explore an area nearby that is often overlooked, even by Oregonians.

From Portland, take Highway 84 east for about an hour and a half, following the breathtaking Columbia River valley to the town of Hood River. After lunch, take some time to explore the valley south of town. It’s a luscious region that lies in the shadow of Mount Hood, full of apple and pear orchards, and little family farms selling fresh berries on the side of the road. You can still buy a Coke in a glass bottle at the general store here, and spend hours exploring as you sip. It’s an incredible little place to lose yourself in during those perfect Oregon summer days.

This wonderful setting is where Clear Creek grows the apples used in their apple brandy. This drink is my humble tribute to that place.

The Cascade Crush

2 oz Clear Creek apple brandy
1 oz lemon juice
¾ oz simple syrup
1 tsp Marionberry jam

Shake ingredients over cracked ice until combined. Strain over ice in a double-rocks glass. Garnish with fresh Marionberries when in season, or with lemon peel during the cold, rainy months when you long to return to that little valley on a warm summer afternoon.

I love this drink. Thank you for reading.

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Mixology Monday: Brandy

A couple of months ago, my friend Kevin from The Scotch Blog sent me a bottle of Pig’s Nose scotch in the mail.

As an aside, I highly recommend making friends with people who do things like, say, run the world’s biggest blog on scotch whiskey. Really.

Anyway, Pig’s Nose is a fun, easy-to-drink, everyday whiskey with some relaxed caramel notes, a little orange thrown in there, and – oddly enough – figs and raisins. Oranges, figs, and raisins? That sure does remind me of one of my favorite dessert wines, Pedro Ximenez… Sounds like it’s time for a cocktail!

2 oz scotch
¾ oz Pedro Ximenez
1 dash orange bitters
1 large strip orange zest

On the inside of a double rocks glass, rub the outside of the orange zest until the oils have coated the interior of the glass. Fill glass with ice.

In a cocktail shaker filled with ice, add scotch, Pedro Ximenez and orange bitters. Stir until well chilled. Strain contents into ice-filled glass, garnish with orange zest, and serve.

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Scottish Breakfast

I wrote to my friend Jimmy Patrick this morning and asked him what he was going to do for this month’s entry. He wrote back:

A rum drink with Bacardi in it. Any guesses?

And I asked, “Are you doing a Cuba Libre?”

What? No. What kind of idiot puts gin in a Cuba Libre?

“Um, I do.”, I sheepishly replied.

But then I thought to myself, “Hey, self, why do you put gin in a Cuba Libre?” and I set out to find out why.

I guess I’ve been thinking about the Cuba Libre a lot lately, because over at The Art of Drink, Darcy has been doing a lot of wonderful and in-depth writing about rums and Coke.

But while the most bartenders will tell you that a Cuba Libre is just a Rum and Coke with lime, I’m going to disagree with that dismissive statement and try to convince you that the Cuba Libre can be elevated to new heights by the addition of gin.

The Cuba Libre was reportedly created sometime during the Spanish-American war, when America was helping Cuba fight for its independence from Spain. Coca-Cola was a hot new beverage in the States, limes practically grew on trees, and Cuban rum was actually available to Americans. (Yes, this was quite some time ago.) The Cuban and American soldiers toasted the future of a free Cuba (Cuba Libre) with their new concoction, which they drank and drank.

After Prohibition, when rum was again (legally) plentiful in this country and Americans had a fever for all things Carribean, the Cuba Libre enjoyed widespread success. The drink even spawned a hit song by the Andrews Sisters, which helped further the public’s awareness of this hot new drink:

If you ever go down Trinidad
They make you feel so very glad
Calypso sing and make up rhyme
Guarantee you one real good fine time

Drinkin’ rum and Coca-Cola
Go down Point Koomahnah
Both mother and daughter
Workin’ for the Yankee dollar

But there was trouble in paradise, as some folks weren’t too enamoured with the drink’s syrupy-sweetness. Charles H. Baker writes about the drink on page 27 of his Gentleman’s Companion of 1939:

The only trouble with the drink is that it started by accident and without imagination, has been carried along by the ease of its supply. Under any condition it is too sweet.

Not too worry, however, the ever-opinionated Baker offers a solution:

The improved Cuba Libre consists of 1 big jigger of Carta de Oro Bacardi, the juice of 1 small green lime, and the lime peel after squeezing. Put in a Tom Collins glass, muddle well to get oil worked up over sides of the glass, add lots of ice lumps, and fill up with a bottle of chilled coca cola. Stir up once, and salud y pesetas!

Sure. Drink’s too sweet, so let’s add a bunch of fucking lime juice and muddle the peel so the bitterness overpowers everything. It’s a nice thought, but an amateur move. How about we try something a little more elegant?

Paul Harrington, in his 1998 book Cocktail – The Drinks Bible for the 21st Century also grappled with the sweetness of the drink, and laid part of the blame on the now-sanitized formula of Coca-Cola…

Coca-Cola no longer contains exotic ingredients, but we’re still convinced that the soda made in South America tastes better than that mixed elsewhere.

…and offered his own gin-spiked solution:

Whenever we consider the Cuba Libre our best option at a given bar, we remind ourselves that this drink was once viewed as exotic, with its dark syrup – made, at that time from kola nuts and cocaine. A few American drinkers had hoped that this wonder … would go on to compete with the great bitters of Europe. The drink, when worth drinking, contains 2 to 3 ounces of the new far from exotic soda, the juice and hull of ¼ lime, 1 ounce of rum, 2 dashes of bitters, and ½ ounce of gin. (The last two ingredients are our own additions.)

An elegant solution, with an eye on former production methods, an attentiveness to modern palates and a sharp degree of sophistication. Take that, Baker.

Isidro Gutiérrez, a bartender at Town at the Chambers Hotel in New York City, offered up a strikingly similar recipe to the New York Times in 2002:

Mr. Gutiérrez cites a 1952 article from a Cuban newspaper suggesting that some turn-of-the-century Cubans drank a Cuba Libre with a decidedly different kick, one including cocoa beans, gin, bitters and a splash of cocaine. (In its early days, Coca-Cola also contained trace amounts of cocaine.)

So Mr. Gutiérrez, who fancies himself something of a drink historian, decided to bring back that type of Cuba Libre — minus the cocaine, of course. He also dropped the cocoa beans after he discovered they were a bit too bitter.

Cuba Libre

Adapted by Isidro Gutiérrez for Town at the Chambers Hotel

3 ounces Coca-Cola
1 ounce rum
1/2 ounce gin
2 dashes bitters
1/4 lime
Dash of club soda

Mix the Coca-Cola, rum and gin in a highball glass. Add the bitters, and squeeze in the juice from the lime. Top off with the club soda to add bubbles.

As a side note, I would like to remind you, the reader, that gin and white rum have a very similar flavor profile, an as an experiment suggest you try substituting white rum for gin in your favorite gin cocktails. You’ll find that a whole new world of interesting (and yes, potentially disgusting) mixological options awaits you.

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Mixology Monday: Gin

1 cup water
2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 tablespoon freshly grated ginger
6 cloves
1/2 teaspoon mace
6 allspice berries
Cinnamon stick
2 pounds sugar
4 × 750 ml bottles sherry
12 eggs, separated
375 ml brandy
6 apples, cored and baked

In a covered 12-quart stockpot, bring water to a boil. Add nutmeg, allspice, ginger, cloves, mace and cinnamon. Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Add sugar and sherry and heat until the sugar dissolves completely.

Beat the egg yolks and whites separately; fold together. Put egg mixture in a large bowl, and slowly add the heated mixture to the eggs, 1/4 cup at a time at first, stirring each addition to slowly heat the eggs. Once the brew has been thoroughly mixed, add the brandy and the baked apples.

I keep my Wassail in a large crock pot on low heat to prevent the eggs from curdling. If you don’t have a crock pot, keep it on the stove on low, but be very careful: even on low heat this mixture will get hot – quickly.

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Wassail

To be honest with you, I didn’t really have much of a chance to prepare for this month’s Mixology Monday. In fact, when Natalie emailed me a reminder earlier today, my first thought was, “Oh, f*ck!”. And as much as I loves me some Mixology Monday, I’ve been a little out of the loop this week. There are a few reasons for this:

1. I’ve been very busy with the bar.
2. I’ve been very busy building websites.
3. Today is my birthday.

However, I was able to put something together on the fly while making dinner tonight. This might come as a shock to some of you, coming from a lowly barkeep and all, but I’m actually a fairly adept cook. So while I was putting together dinner, I whipped up a cocktail with some of the ingredients I had in my liquor cabinet. And to my surprise it turned out pretty okay. In fact, I think this would be a wonderful first course.

The food:

Butter Leaf Salad

With buttermilk-tarragon dressing, late-summer tomatoes and country bacon

¼ cup buttermilk
¼ cup sour cream
¼ cup mayonnaise
1½ tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 tsp cracked black pepper
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tbsp freshly chopped tarragon

Whisk ingredients together in a non-reactive bowl. Cover and chill in a refrigerator for one hour to meld flavors.

Meanwhile, slice ½ pound bacon into thick chunks and cook over medium-high heat until fat is rendered and bacon is near crisp. Drain of fat and pat dry with a towel.

Seed tomatoes and dice. Let drain and set aside.

Toss washed butter leaf lettuce with dressing. Garnish with tomatoes and bacon.

Herbsaint-Scented French 75

With Beefeater gin and organic lemon juice

3 oz dry sparkling wine
1½ oz gin
1 oz fresh lemon juice
1 oz simple syrup
Herbsaint

Rinse chilled champagne flute with Herbsaint or other anise-flavored liqueur. Combine gin, lemon juice, simple syrup and sparkling wine and stir with cracked ice until chilled. Strain into flute and garnish with lemon twist.

I liked the idea of the lemon juice and sparkling wine cutting the fat of the dressing and the bacon. I went with the Herbsaint because I thought it would pair well with the anise notes of the tarragon, and given that Herbsaint is one of the drier absinthe substitutes out there I think it pairs really well with this particular salad.

Try it for yourself and let me know what you think in the comments. Thanks for reading, and thank you for hosting, Natalie!

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Mixology Monday: Food Pairings

It’s football time here in the university town I call home, so on Saturday mornings my kitchen often becomes the epicenter of pre-game madness. I like to put out a bottle of vodka, a pitcher of my Bloody Mary mix, and a tray of fun garnishes for the fans and let people put together their own drinks.

Now, I understand the benefits of juicing your own tomatoes for the ultimate do-it-yourself Bloody Mary. However, I’ve got to point out that in the middle of winter here in the Pacific Northwest, canned tomato juice tastes a hell of a lot better than the mealy specimens my local grocery store is peddling for $3.99 a pound. So here’s a beefed-up Bloody Mary mix you can make any time, with ingredients you can find just about anywhere.

1 46-oz can tomato juice
1 garlic clove, minced
½ small avocado
¼ cup Worcestershire sauce
1½ oz lemon juice
1½ tbsp steak sauce
2 tsp cracked pepper
1½ tsp celery salt
1½ tsp hot sauce
1 tsp horseradish

Purée garlic, avocado, and eight ounces of the tomato juice in a food processor or blender until smooth. Add to remaining ingredients in a large pitcher and stir until combined.

As an aside, I’ve found that this recipe works best when it’s allowed to sit overnight to let the flavors combine. So if you have the time, try to make it the night before.

To make a Bloody Mary, fill a 16-ounce glass to the rim with ice and add two ounces (¼ cup) of your favorite vodka. Salting the rim of the glass is optional, but I like to pre-salt a few glasses and set them out. Top with Bloody Mary mix and garnish as you like. Here are some suggestions for your garnish tray:

Celery stalks
Stuffed olives
French cornichons
Pickled white asparagus
Lemon and lime wedges
Pearl onions
Pickled green beans
Cherry tomatoes
Pickled garlic cloves
Pickled pepperoncini peppers
Cooked, peeled shrimp

And for a wonderful treatise on making a single Bloody Mary the right way, check out this video my peeps over at the Small Screen Network have put together.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

A Pitcher of Bloody Mary Mix

I never really venture too far outside of my comfort zone when it comes to cocktails. Sure, I’ve tried some strange combinations before, but when all is said and done I usually tend to stick to the classics.

Until this evening.

Maybe it was all the late-summer sun I got at the pool this afternoon before work. Maybe it was crawling around inside the keg cooler looking for a leak in the beer gas line.

Or maybe it was the f*cking iSi whipper that I’ve had sitting next to the cash register for several weeks now, staring at me and asking (not literally, at least I hope not) when I was going to actually try something new.

Well, I went out on a limb and tried something I’d wanted to do for a while: a deconstructed cocktail.

Being a Latin-American restaurant, we tend to make a lot of margaritas. Like, a lot of margaritas, so naturally I wanted to start there. I grabbed my iSi whipper, filled it with the ingredients I thought would make for a decent Cadillac foam, and set it to chill while I put together our basic margarita:

2 oz tequila
1 oz triple sec
1 oz lime juice
1 oz lemon juice
1 oz simple syrup

Shake ingredients together over cracked ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Then I grabbed my whipper, which I had already filled with…

2 egg whites, lightly beaten
2 oz Grand Marnier
4 oz orange juice, finely strained
4 dashes peach bitters

…and double-charged with CO2.

I then laid down a nice, thick foam on top of the margarita I had just made. You can see how well they stay separated.

Running back to the kitchen, I grabbed some black Hawaiian sea salt for contrast and grated it into the foam.

Voila! The sweetness of the foam is wonderfully complemented by a tart, bracing blast of tequila and lime with each sip. And the presentation ain’t half bad, either, if I do say so myself.

Hey, you know what? That was really easy! I’m going to try to venture outside of my comfort zone more often.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Margarita with Cadillac Foam and Sea Salt

Earlier today at the Cocktail Summit, we played with seaberries (aka sea berries or sea-buckthorn). If you haven’t tried seaberries before, they’re a small, soft fruit full of a milky, citrusy, tart juice – slightly astringent and very rich. They’re unlike anything I had ever tried.

I had been messing around with some wine syrups this week, and luckily had remembered to bring along a bottle of Verdejo syrup. To make Verdejo syrup, just boil down a bottle of Verdejo wine until reduced by half (should equal 12 ounces). Add a cup and a half of sugar and stir until clear. Let cool and bottle.

Now, on to the drink. Seaberries are also known as buckthorn, hence the name of the drink.

2 oz white rum
20 fresh seaberries
1 oz fresh lemon juice
1 oz Verdejo syrup
2 dashes Regan’s orange bitters

Muddle seaberries in a mixing glass until all their liquid is released. Add rum, lemon juice, Verdejo syrup and orange bitters and shake well over cracked ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

The Buckthorn Bruise

This is my interpretation of a classic style of Brazilian drink. Often these are blended, but variations appear here and there that are on the rocks like this one. I like to use Leblon cachaça at the bar because it’s a multi-distilled, and therefore lighter, product.

2 oz cachaça
1 oz fresh lemon juice
1 oz pineapple juice
.75 oz real pomegranate grenadine
.5 oz simple syrup

Shake ingredients over cracked ice and strain into a large wine glass filled with fresh ice. Top with 3 ounces soda or sparkling mineral water and garnish with a fresh pineapple spear.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Batida Rosa

But it’s a great idea: we’re all going to try out recipes that we’ve seen on each other’s sites, and report on our findings.

Because we’re bloggers.
And we have love.
Blog love.

Got it?

Originally, I wanted to pick up my very own iSi whipper and make Jimmy Patrick’s cassis foam as Jimmy’s skills have been a great source of envy for me for a long time, but I settled on something I’ve been keeping quiet about for a long time, the Bramble.

I learned about the Bramble from my friend George Sinclair’s website a few months ago, and I’ve been making them for a select few customers at the bar ever since. I like to call it “the best-kept secret in town”.

Here’s a little history from George:

The Bramble is a cocktail that has seen its way onto almost every UK cocktail bars menu, And although a correct recipe is not always used, it is still a testament to its excellence, of both flavour, and memorable naming, that others are continually trying to improve its simple formula.

Created in the mid-1980s by Dick Bradsell at Fred’s Club in Soho, London

So, in short, the Bramble exemplifies everything I strive to do with my cocktail menus. Time to rip it off!

The Bridgeport Bramble

I didn’t have a bottle of Plymouth gin on hand when I started exploring this drink, so I substituted Portland, Oregon’s own Aviation gin. It’s similar to Plymouth in its herbaceous nose and creamy mouthfeel, and since blackberries grow wild in Oregon, this seemed like a natural choice.

1.5 oz Aviation gin
.75 oz lemon juice
.5 oz simple syrup
.75 oz creme de mure (blackberry liqueur)

Shake the gin, lemon juice and simple syrup with cracked ice and strain into a double rocks glass. Top with crushed ice and gently float creme de mure on top. Garnish with a skewer of four wild, organic Oregon blackberries.

This post wouldn’t be complete with a fair amount of gushing on my part, so if you’re not already in-the-know, let me be the first to introduce you to George Sinclair, the Thinking Bartender. Now, I consider myself to be a cocktail history buff. I have a good-sized library of books (original editions of The Gentleman’s Companion and the South American Gentleman’s Companion, anyone?) and I consult them every time I’m looking to explore a new cocktail. But George puts my knowledge and adherence to classic methodologies to shame. His relentless quest for perfection stands, to me, as an ultimate goal and a reminder that while the cocktail renaissance here in the United States is just getting underway, it has been in full swing on the other side of the pond for a good long time.

So, thanks, George, and here’s to many more brilliant posts.

Oh, and check out Phil at Lamb Martini, who has a new-found love for the Richmond Gimlet, and Chris at Nonjatta who, through a trial-and-error process, discovered that a Tomato Daiquiri beats all other fruit daiquiris!

Thanks for hosting this one, Paul.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Mixology Monday: The Bramble

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.

Irish Cream

1 cup half-and-half
1 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
1.75 cups Irish whiskey
1 ounce strong brewed espresso
1 ounce chocolate syrup
1 teaspoon real vanilla extract
1 teaspoon almond extract

Mix ingredients together, bottle and refrigerate. Should stay stable for at least a month.

Thanks to Anna at Morsels and Musings for hosting this month’s Mixology Monday – be sure to head over to check out her round-up of the other entries!

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Mixology Monday: Cream

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.

In a 16-oz mixing glass, gently muddle together:

1 large sprig spearmint
.75 oz simple syrup

Add:

Half a spent lime hull, and
1 oz of lime juice (no less, no more)
2 oz white rum
3 oz sparkling mineral water

Top with crushed ice and mix with a straw until drink is combined and glass is frosty.

Post from: Jeffrey Morgenthaler. Follow me on Twitter.

Mojito