Too Soon/Not Too Soon.

Posted on 2nd May 2025 by Andy

Not too soon at all.

Too Soon/Not Too Soon.

Last month we looked at a creation of mine called The Fermi Paradox which used Cynar as its main bitter component. I’d like to think you might already have been in possession of this lovely Italian ingredient or are considering buying some. In either case, perhaps you are wondering what else you can do with it? One of the very best uses of Cynar is in Sam Ross’s strangely named Too Soon which first appeared in Sasha Petraske’s posthumous Regarding Cocktails in 2016 (an absolutely indispensable cocktail book in my opinion). It is an example of what I call a “hybrid” cocktail having elements of both the sour and aromatic styles although you could also argue that it is simply a sour with a split base of gin and Cynar. Whatevers. The interesting aspect of the Too Soon is the somewhat unusual technique of shaking with thin slices of fruit in the shaker. This has the effect of adding a little bit of juice as well as some oil from the peel into the drink which in turn brighten the whole affair. Subtle but essential. It is an absolutely sublime drink in my view but the down-side is that makes an unholy mess in your shaker. But it’s worth it. Sam used two thin slices of orange to mess up his shaker but, as tasty as that is, I decided to defile mine with blood orange slices because a) they are in season and b) I reckon it’s even tastier with their inclusion. The change is far too slight to warrant a completely new name but I chucked a “not” on the front to acknowledge my tweak and to allow me to post a toastlink to one of my favourite songs. I’ve included both recipes below despite the small difference but I urge you to use the blood orange version while those wonderful russet dusted orbs of deliciosity are still in season. Yum.

Too Soon.

1oz / 30ml gin (nothing fancy required).

1oz / 30ml Cynar (accept no substitutes).

0.75oz / 22ml fresh lemon juice.

0.5oz / 15ml simple syrup.

2 thin slices of orange (from the widest part of the fruit).

Shake well with ice and double strain into a chilled Champagne coupé.

Not Too Soon.

1oz / 30ml gin (nothing fancy required).

1oz / 30ml Cynar (accept no substitutes).

0.75oz / 22ml fresh lemon juice.

0.5oz / 15ml simple syrup.

2 thin slices of blood orange (from the widest part of the fruit).

Shake well with ice and double strain into a chilled Champagne coupé.

Toast Throwing Muses.

 

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The Fermi Paradox + Lot 40 rye.

Posted on 4th April 2025 by Andy

Where is everybody?

The Fermi Paradox + Lot 40 rye.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last few months you have likely noticed the recent unpleasantness that has infected the USA. As I write we see a government that seems hell-bent on descending a once great nation into an authoritarian* dystopia. On the international stage alone we see threats to peaceful neighbours, disrespect of staunch allies and – as I write – the threat of tariffs on various products but most significantly for cocktail world a 200% tariff on European alcohol products. Whether those come to pass remains to be seen (it would likely devastate many US businesses if it did) but until the good people of America put their house back in order I will not be buying or writing about any American products. There’s not that much a humble cocktail blogger can do but in my own tiny way I’m doing something – and perhaps my readers might consider doing the same? Please understand that I do this not out of any hatred of the USA** but in support of the restoration of sanity, democracy and human rights.

What does this all mean for cocktailistas like us? I think it is fair to say that the cocktail owes its existence largely to American ideas and European products and that leads to the realisation that, should the trade wars indeed escalate, those 50 states will be in more of a pickle than us Europeans. The USA doesn’t really produce any essential cocktail components beyond Bourbon and rye whisky. Yes, there are other products but they are just local version of spirits, liqueurs and vermouths that are available elsewhere. But Bourbon and to a lesser extent rye are tricky to replace and I’ll need some time to identify satisfactory substitutes. I start my quest here. It is not without a dab of poetic irony that the first place we look to replace Bourbon or rye is Canada. We’ll come to the search for alt-Bourbon in due course but rye whisky is what we need for this cocktail and is, indeed, the easier win with some rye content present in most Canadian whiskies. My first attempt was a bottle of Lot 40 rye but its not getting a full review because it’s not exactly easy to get your hands on. I was pretty happy with it but when I went back to order a couple more from my favoured supplier it became clear I’d already snagged their very last bottle. Oh, well. The highlights are that it is a tasty mixing whisky made with a 100% rye mash bill in a very nice bottle at 43% abv. Catch some if you can. Rye whisky has no geographical restrictions and is also made in a number of European countries (Germany, Denmark and the Netherlands off the top of my head) so we have some more local options too. But let’s get to our freedom cocktail:

Named for the great Italian scientist who fled fascism in Europe to America*** in 1938 and built the worlds first functional nuclear reactor under the stand of a football field in Chicago (no, really) The Fermi Paradox proudly uses Italian and Canadian ingredients. I’ve been working for this one for a while and the original intention was to use George Dickel rye but I’ve found the Lot 40 substitution entirely satisfactory. It’s a riff on the Black Manhattan (appropriate as Fermi worked on the Manhattan Project) but including the divisive Fernet Branca for added punch. The Fernet paradox is that while adding depth it also adds a pretty intense bitterness that can be quite overpowering. My trick is to tame it with a spoonful of the syrup from the maraschino cherries that are also our garnish. We really must use the real Italian maraschino cherries and definitely not the fake neon ones as I explain in the same article. The combination is deliciously rebalanced whilst keeping the dark enticement of the Fernet. A bit of the wonderful Italian amaro Cynar makes up the rest of our modifier component. “But what does it taste like?”, you ask. It tastes like resistance.

XXX UPDATE XXX

The threatened US/EU tariff war has been defused for now (as of 9.4.25) which is, of course, good news.

My boycott of US product still stands in opposition to the madness.

The Fermi Paradox.

2oz / 60ml Rye whisky (such as Lot 40 rye).

0.75oz / 22ml Cynar amaro.

0.25oz / 7.5ml Fernet Branca.

1 tsp / 5ml Syrup from a jar of (real!) maraschino cherries.

Stir with ice and strain into a chilled Nick & Nora glass containing one (real!) maraschino cherry.

Toast Enrico Fermi (1901 – 1954).

*I’m not quite ready to deploy the F word but it might not be very far away.

**Quite a chunk of my family are US citizens after all.

***The opposite of which seems to be already beginning in the scientific community.

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Black Douglas + William Lawson’s whisky.

Posted on 7th March 2025 by Andy

Paint it black.

Black Douglas + William Lawson’s whisky.

I was recently invited to a Burns Supper, which, to those unaware, is an evening of whisky, poetry, whisky, Scottish cuisine, whisky, song, whisky and whisky in honour of the famed Scots poet Robert Burns. Tradition dictates that we all make a contribution to the evening (mostly whisky) but the host tasked me to provide a pre-dinner cocktail for about twenty guests. I initially settled on an old version of the Robert Burns cocktail (a bit of a no-brainer that one) tweaked it until I was happy and then got on with a busier than normal week. On the eve of the event I realised I was way short of one of the essential ingredients (absinthe) and, once I ran the numbers, pretty tight on supply of the Scotch* itself. While the latter could be quickly rectified the former could not so a last minute change of tack was required. I settled on a modified version of my very own Black Watch (Scotch, Ramazzotti, Italian vermouth and black walnut bitters, stirred over a big cube) but subbed the amaro for Glayva to make it more Scottish and served it without ice in a sherry glass as an aperitif. And damn if it didn’t go down well with the guests. It’s a touch sweeter than my usual creations but when you are mixing for a largely non-cocktailhead audience that will tend to be well received. I sought a name that referenced the original drink settling on the name of a character we learned about in school who in the early 14th century gave the English invaders a bit of a hard time and was known – for his notoriety rather than ethnicity – as The Black Douglas. They should make a film about that dude. Anyway, further to the story of the Burns Supper my mixing Scotch was entirely depleted by the exercise requiring the remains of my Monkey Shoulder, Finlaggan and infinity bottle (which happily combined quite nicely) requiring a total mixing Scotch restock. My go-to base mixing Scotch has long been the excellent vatted malt Monkey Shoulder but the price has been climbing steadily for a while now and I wondered if I could find something satisfactory for less of my hard earned moneys. We don’t need a great deal of complexity or age in a mixing whisky so I wondered if a (gasp) blended whisky might suffice. I’d had a decent experience with William Lawson’s blended a while back and when I spotted some at €16 for a LITRE I decided to put it to the test. Lawson’s is an interesting blend in that according to what I hear its malt content comes from a single Speyside distillery, namely MacDuff (aka Glen Deveron) and indeed this is alluded to on the bottle. And that makes it a fairly simple affair free of peaty notes and likely only lightly aged. The label is cheesier than it used to be with a robust young kilted Highlander on the green bottle as the owners, Bacardi, are chasing a younger demographic these days. But it would be a mistake to be put off as I found Lawson’s surprisingly elegant with a lightly fruity nose and taste typically Speysidey: floral with hints of dried fruit and honey. It’s not as “meaty” as Monkey Shoulder due to the dilution of those malt flavours with the column still grain whisky but the flavours are not a million miles away. Which should perhaps come as no surprise as the sources of the malt whisky of both are a mere 30 miles apart. It mixes very well being light and approachable in flavour yet having enough presence to make any cocktail taste sufficiently “Scotchy” in much the same way as Monkey Shoulder but for half the price. And, indeed, in the Black Douglas it works just fine. For drinks like a Scotch Old Fashioned or other very spirit forward cocktails you might want to move a bit more up-market into the cheaper single malts or vatted malts but the rest of the time I’m perfectly happy to mix with William Lawson’s and will be using it as a solid base for my rebooted Scotch infinity bottle. It’s an absolute steal at the price, widely available in Europe at least and is highly mixable so for that use I’d rate it a straight B. So there.

“And the Black Douglas recipe?”, I hear you ask. Here you go:

Black Douglas.

2oz / 60ml Scotch whisky (eg. William Lawson’s, Monkey Shoulder etc.)

0.5oz / 15ml Glayva whisky liqueur (Drambuie will also suffice).

0.5oz /15ml Italian (sweet) vermouth.

2 dashes Fee’s Black Walnut bitters.

Stir with ice and strain into a nick & nora or large sherry glass.

Garnish with orange peel.

Toast Sir James Douglas (c.1286-1310).

*I prefer the term Scottish Whisky to the lazy “Scotch” but I think it’s probably a bit of a losing battle at this point so this is not going to be the hill I die on. “Expresso” for espresso on the other hand…

 

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The Ultimate Daiquiri

Posted on 7th February 2025 by Andy

Welcome to the club.

Ultimate Daiquiri.

It’s been just about eight years since I posted my first article here and I thought we’d celebrate the anniversary by revisiting that recipe – the noble Daiquiri. This time the mission is not to explain via the Daiquiri the importance of technique and balance in a cocktail (we’ve all come a long way since then after all) but to make the absolute best Daiquiri we possibly can. Le’go! First; the rum. It is very tempting to think that using some expensive aged fine rum will make your Daiquiri better, and indeed the Anejo Daiquiri is a thing. But that in my opinion is really another drink altogether just as a ‘Ti Punch, or Caipirinha is no Daiquiri despite the similar ingredients. For a Daiquiri to be a Daiquiri it must contain a white Cuban rum and that, dear reader, is the elephant in the room. The classic pick is Havana Club 3 Años an inexpensive yet excellent example of the type that is very widely available. Except in the USA. Now, I have always been somewhat sympathetic to my American readers’ Cuban rum predicament but given recent events my patience has pretty much worn out. Unless you’ve brought some home from abroad (don’t even start me on the fake Havana Club sold by Bacardi in the US) you are gonna be missing out on this party and it is your government’s fault. Rise up, rise up and demand access to the good rum! And while you’re at it...

Anyway, having stopped to breathe I continue. I have, after much enjoyable experimentation, come up with a rum combination that maintains the true character of the Daiquiri while also elevating it per our goal here. Slightly over half of the rum portion shall be Havana Club 3 Años (aka “white” or “original”) and the rest made up with one of the moderately aged “bridge” rums we discussed recently. The most authentic choice would be Havana Club 7 but other choices work just as well. Next we turn to the lime juice and here I introduce a little “hack”. Take a nice plump green lime and cut a long swathe of peel from about half the lime with a peeler making sure not to dig too deep (see below). Drop that into your shaker before halving and squeezing the lime. The peel will get bashed about during your shake and give your Daiquiri a little extra zing from all the lovely oils that are released.

Like this.

That just leaves the sugar syrup to be dealt with. I think a demerara syrup is a worthwhile upgrade to the point that I use the following as my house simple syrup. Whack a Pyrex jug on a kitchen scale and boil some water. Weigh out 100g (or 1 portion) of demerara sugar. If lacking proper demerara the next best is turbinado followed by any other unrefined (or “raw”) brown sugar. Add another 100g (or portion) of white sugar on top of it followed by 200g (or 2 portions) of just boiled water and stir until dissolved. Pour it into a clean sterilised bottle and it will keep for a good few weeks in the fridge. The amount you use in your Daiquiri is a matter of taste but as a guide use half an ounce if you like it tart, three quarters of an ounce if you like it sweeter and a whole ounce if you want to incur my unending wrath. A very optional addition is a few drops of a foaming agent (I quite like Fee Foam) to give a silkier mouth-feel but don’t overdo it as a foamy head is naught our desire. A Daiquiri should be ice cold so be sure to have a well chilled coupé glass ready and a well iced shaker. Shake a little longer and harder than normal (without going crazy) then double strain into that cold, cold glass. Simplicity + attention to detail = perfection.

Ultimate Daiquiri.

1.25oz / 37ml Havana Club 3 Años Cuban rum.

0.75ml / 22ml Havana Club 7 (or another aged rum).

1oz / 30ml Fresh lime juice (see text).

0.5-0.75oz / 15-22ml demerara syrup (see text).

Peel of half a lime (see text).

Shake well with ice and strain into a well chilled champagne coupé.

Toast Cuba, home of the Daiquiri.

 

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Lewis and Clark + Sarsaparilla.

Posted on 3rd January 2025 by Andy

Lookin’ for Lewis and Clark.

Lewis and Clark + Sarsaparilla.

In the last exciting episode of Proofcocktails.nl I was blabbering on about how I’ve been neglecting the poor old Old Fashioned so I’m doing another one for good measure. Kind of. We’ll get back to it in a bit, but first, sarsaparilla.

Sarsaparilla.

“What’s that about?” you ask. Well I was recently at my local spice merchant when I espied a bag of sarsaparilla and said to myself, “What’s that about?” And bought some, obvs. All I knew is that it has some Wild West vibes evoking images of dusty saloons and thirsty cowboys. Turns out dem cowboys were drinking fake sarsaparilla made of some other shizzle but never mind. Real sarsaparilla is a more oriental affair altogether being a popular drink that usually goes by some variation of the name Sarsi/Sarsae in countries surrounding the South China Sea. I proceeded as I usually do with unfamiliar dried ingredients and made a tincture of it by soaking a heaped teaspoon of it in 100ml of strong neutral spirit for three days before straining and bottling it. Hot diggity if it’s not some tasty stuff! A little goes a long way and just a couple of drops add a deliciously addictive vanillaesque woodiness to anything you drop it in (gin being a personal favourite). While you could certainly use it to make some soft drinks via a sarsaparilla syrup that’s not where we’re going today. Nope, we’re going back out west by incorporating it in our twisted Old Fashioned, the:

Lewis and Clark.

In case you were snoozing in school these two dudes forged a way to the Pacific ocean in 1805 at the invite of President Thomas Jefferson who had just purchased and enormous chunk of the now USA from the French for 15 megabucks* sight unseen and wondered what it might look like. Stopping those other Europeans laying claim it and informing the surprised locals that there were now under the jurisdiction of a random bunch of wigged pale faces on the other side of the big river were also part of the jaunt. Lewis and Clark turned out to be a right pair of dicks who would certainly have perished were it not for their slave and dog as well as the general friendliness of the locals who did not yet realise the enormous crock of colonial shit that was about to land on them. The reason I’m using the name of these two muppets for a cocktail is that they took 120 gallons of whisky (as well as an unrecorded amount of rum, brandy and wine) with them and yet somehow managed to drink it all long before they returned. So we gotta give them some points for being top scoopers. And finally to our drink. The Lewis and Clark is simply an Old Fashioned that uses honey syrup instead of sugar, a little sarsaparilla and a tiny amount of citrus for balance. The version below is made with rum but you could also use whisky or brandy too as the expedition carried all three in abundance. If going for the latter two use a disc of lemon instead of lime.

Lewis and Clark.

2oz / 60ml aged rum.

1 tsp / 5ml 3:1 honey syrup.

2 dashes sarsaparilla tincture (see text).

2 dashes aromatic bitters.

Squeeze of a lime disc (just a few drops) – see below.

Stir with ice and strain into a whisky tumbler containing a big block or sphere of clear ice. Drop in the squeezed lime disc. Alternatively stir with the disc included.

Note: Cut a small disc from the side of a lime (‘Ti Punch style). About the size of a large coin.

Toast York, Sacagawea and Seaman** the dog without whom the whole expedition would have gone tits up yet got little thanks.

*History does not recall how much the French paid the native Americans for it but we can probably hazard a guess…

**I did think about naming the drink after the dog but Mrs Proof advised against.

 

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Festive Old Fashioned.

Posted on 6th December 2024 by Andy

Kris my ash.

Festive Old Fashioned.

It has been bothering me for a while that I haven’t talked very much about the Old Fashioned. I mean once you know how to make one, and tweak one, there’s not that much more too say. I hope you don’t get the idea from these pages that the Old Fashioned* isn’t a classic and excellent drink – it is. Pretty much all modern cocktail bars will have a twist on an OF that they give their own name, yet an Old Fashioned it remains and, indeed, I find it an amusing game to try to spot the Old Fashioned-hiding-behind-a-new name on any craft cocktail menu where they typically just name the flavours present. But I digress. The approach of the festive season gives me an opportunity to set things right. Ish. I’m not really a fan of Christmas cocktails so don’t usually bother writing anything special at this time of year but then again I’m aware others might like to try something that fits with the yuletide mood. Given recent events I toyed with calling it the Old Fascist and Mrs Proof laughed but then said a firm “no!”. Fair enough, it doesn’t sound very festive after all. In the end I just called it what it is since I disapprove of renaming barely changed classics anyway. The Festive Old Fashioned is a nice way to Xmasify your favourite brown spirit and I find it works equally well with all sorts of whisky or a decent aged rum or cognac. The bridge rums we looked at last month are excellent choices here. For the small sugar component we use ginger syrup which, if you are a Tiki-head like me you will have already made** and stored but you could also just buy some. We’ll want some cinnamon flavour too and for this I make a cinnamon tincture which is simply 2 sticks of cinnamon (I like to use 1 of each type – cassia and Ceylon) broken up and soaked in 50% vodka for 2 days then strained through a coffee filter. It’s also a nice addition to Tiki drinks so you’re not making it just for this***. Orange bitters complete the festive flavour selection box so-to-speak. Then we just give it the Old Fashioned treatment by stirring it all with ice and straining it over a nice big block (or ball) of clear ice. The garnish of grated nutmeg is the icing on the cake but go easy on it lest overpower the drink. Sip slowly to get yo ass into the festive vibe.

See you all next year!

Festive Old Fashioned.

2oz / 60ml aged spirit of choice (whisky, rum, cognac etc.)

1 teaspoon / 5ml ginger syrup (or a touch more if you like).

4 dashes cinnamon tincture

2 dashes orange bitters

Stir with ice and strain over a big block or sphere of clear ice and grate a little nutmeg over the top.

Toast 2025.

*Sometimes it is called an Old Fashion without the “ed” but that is just plain wrong and really grinds my gears. So please don’t.

**70g root ginger peeled and sliced, in a blender with 200g of sugar and 200ml of very hot water. Pulse blend about 20 times then leave for and hour. Strain through a fine sieve pushing down gently on the pulp. Bottle and refrigerate. Keeps for a few weeks if the bottle is sterilised.

***For example when cinnamon syrup is called for I just use simple syrup and 5 dashes of my cinnamon tincture.

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7s and 8s: Four bridge rums for mixing or sipping.

Posted on 2nd November 2024 by Andy

Rum and sunshine, there’s enough for everyone.

7s and 8s: Four bridge rums for mixing or sipping.

I mostly sort rums into one of three categories: Mixing, sipping and garbage. The latter are the heavily sugar and gawd-knows-what-filth dosed spirits that are pushed upon the teeming ignorant masses to erode the good name of Rum, the greatest of all spirits. The most egregious of those are no longer allowed to call themselves rum in the EU which is at least a good start so if the words rum, rhum or ron appear naught on the label leave them on the shelf to poison the souls of the less diligent. Breathe Andy, breathe. The other two categories (mixing and sipping) are pretty self-explanatory but there exists a sub-category between the two that I wish to discuss today that I call “bridge rums”. These aged rums are more expensive than typical mixing rums and are edging into “sippable” territory while remaining fairly affordable. More complex than the simple mixing rums they find a welcome place in cocktails where the rum is not overpowered by other flavours and remains the star of the show. A Daiquiri, a Rum Old Fashioned, a Mai Tai. You get the drift. These rums are usually aged for 7-8 tropical years (ageing being somewhat accelerated in a warm climate) and sit mid-range with a lesser aged mixing offering and a more aged – and expensive! – sipper or two typically available from the same distiller. Today I’m going to wheel out four examples that I value but this list is far from exhaustive and similarly placed rums from other distillers may serve you well. However, do make certain that the 7 or 8 is followed by the word years (or años) and is not just some number that an unscrupulous marketeer has simply plucked from the ether and slapped on the label. Yes, it happens. A last comment before we dive in is that in my opinion the best rums come from islands (or multi-island nations) that don’t begin with a P and I generally avoid rums that come from a mainland country unless it begins with a G. So there. I’ve picked a range of 7s and 8s that should be widely enough available that wherever you live you should be able to get your hands on at least one of them. Given that prices of these rums vary quite considerably in different markets the relative value to you will depend on what you need to fork out for them but I’ve included the price I paid for each 700ml bottle to give you a baseline. Anyway, let’s try a few rums!

El Dorado 8 (€21-26)

Coming from the South American mainland nation of Guyana (heh), El Dorado 8 is a rum I’ve written about on these pages a few times but it fits into this group so well that I couldn’t exclude it. A lot of folks reach for El Dorado 12 and when I did many years ago I found it far too sweet. El Dorado have cleaned up their act in recent times and that extra sugar is no longer present but I found the drier 8 year old (which also uses a different blend of rums from the distiller’s interesting collection of historic stills) much more approachable and it has been a staple “bridge rum” ever since. It has that typical Demerara rum quality that is often described as “smoky” which I think is perhaps a little misleading and might better be called “earthily spicy”. While I almost always use ED8 as a mixing rum I am never disappointed on the occasions I drop some in a glass all on its own. Although the bottle, screw cap closure and 40% abv look pretty pedestrian you get a lot of age and still pedigree from a remarkably affordable rum to the point I can’t think of another that can touch it for the price. Yet it remains a Demerara rum which is a specific style that limits its overall flexibility. It lends itself pretty well to a rum old fashioned and as a component of various multi-rum tiki cocktails where it brings that Demerara depth and some age to the mix. El Dorado 8 is a no-brainer if available to you at this kind of price.

Appleton Estate 8 (€28-33)

Jamiaca’s Appleton Estate make some cracking rums including the entry level Signature and the highly regarded 12 year old under the eye of master distiller Joy Spence. Some years ago I would happily mix away with the 12 year old but of late the price has started to rise quite dramatically to the point I’m not dropping 45+ rum tokens on a mixer. However, there is a somewhat overlooked aged Appleton that really kicks ass and some even prefer to its more expensive sibling. Appleton Estate 8 is a beautifully crafted pot still rum that is deeply, deeply enjoyable for sipping on yet, if the price is right (and it does vary quite a bit) is equally good in cocktails. Typically for an aged Jamaican rum, the funky edge is barely detectable but the wood and spice of a well aged rum transfers effortlessly into a Mai Tai or rum Old Fashioned. When sipping there is a slightly creamy vanilla note that might get lost in a cocktail but that’s fine as this is the rum I’m mostly likely to drink on it’s own out of this group. While the most expensive on my list it exudes far more class than the others with an attractive bottle and label with an excellent wooden cork and higher bottling abv of 43%. The slight extra price is well spent and purely in terms of favour sophistication this is the leader of this pack by a good margin. In a Mai Tai I find three parts of Appleton 8 topped out with one part of Rum Fire or Wray & Nephew overproof tough to beat – and hopefully somewhat in the spirit of Trader V’s original recipe.

Angostura 7 (€23-27)

For those of you who thought Trinidad’s Angostura only made bitters: Surprise! They also pump out a line of rums. From what I’ve tasted so far these are unremarkable but solid rums that are likely not my first choice at each price point. So why are we here? Well Angostura 7 has a peculiar property that makes it very interesting. On its own this coppery, “rummy” rum, with bittersweet orangey notes is just “fine” but unexciting. But for some strange reason it mixes really well and I’ll be damned if I can explain why. I just notice that every time I include it in a cocktail I mentally say to myself, “damn, that was a good one!” Could it be that its very mid-Caribbean ordinariness makes it very flexible? In that sense it takes our concept of a “base” rum and works very much as a well aged version of the same. I’ve not found too much information on how Angostura 7 is made and aged but suffice to say that whenever I see Ango 7 at the lower end of this price range I’ll pick one or two up and use it purely for how well it plays in a Mai Tai or Anejo Daiquiri.

Havana Club 7 (€22-25)

Good ‘ole HC7 finds a place on this list because – unless you live in the USA of course – this is the most easily available example of a bridge rum and most of you should have no problem finding a bottle. Americans can get it at almost any non-US airport when they travel and really need not worry about having it confiscated on their return as I’ve never heard of that happening. Being a Cuban rum we know it is from a column still and has no sugar added, ‘cos them’s the rules there. Sure, it’s not the most exciting rum ever but its leather and tobacco notes are pleasant enough to make it an enjoyable sipper and somewhat like the Angostura it is very flexible and works well in a very wide range of rum cocktails. On its own I find it just a little “thin”, likely due to the lack of pot-still content but in cocktails that matters less as juices and syrups will make up for it in body. It’s not the first bottle I reach for yet I’m never without one and when I do include it in a cocktail I’m rarely disappointed. Try it a Hotel Nacional Special or Old Cuban and see what I’m talking about.

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Port Ellen + Mandarins

Posted on 4th October 2024 by Andy

To Ellen Bach.

 

Port Ellen + Mandarins.

O noble Mandarin, ancestor of all citrus (along with the citron and pomelo but who remembers those losers?), majestic in thy sweet oranginess yet all too rarely utilised in the preparation of cocktaily splendour how shalt we honour you? I too was complicit in the under-use of this commonplace fruit until a recent visit to a favourite cocktail bar (no, I’m not telling you because it’s hard enough to get a table in this tiny place as it is) where there was a drink of some mandariny content that got me to thinking. Why do we ignore this fruit that is so tasty, widely available and affordable? And which fits so handily in a standard citrus squeezer? Damned if I know but let’s have a crack at rectifying the situation. Given the paucity of mandarin and even orange juice based cocktails where do we look for inspiration? The Blood and Sand springs to mind yet that is not a cocktail that receives much love. Regardless of that I think whisky is the way to go and a smoky Islay (pronounced eye-lah not eye-lay) malt seems to complement the sweetness of the mandarin juice so we’re off to a good start. When it comes to mixing with Islay malt I think we should tread carefully and not waste a fine and expensive whisky on a mixed drink where its nuances will most likely be lost. In these cases I always reach for an affordable and slightly mysterious bottling. Finlaggan Original Peated is certainly an Islay malt whisky but which of the small island’s clutch of distilleries produce it is a well kept secret. It is an uncomplicated affair with bags of peat smoke flavour but little complexity and likely only the minimum of ageing (three years) but that is exactly what we need in a case like this. There are other options such as Ileach or the lesser aged offerings of the “big” Islay distilleries. Going for a bit of depth I split this base with a little ruby port which bungs some tannins into the mix. We are already nicely balanced for sweetness but lacking in modifier and accent so lemon juice and grenadine in equal proportions followed by a couple of dashes of Fee’s black walnut bitters tick those classic cocktail anatomy boxes with the bitters replacing some of the woodiness our relatively young base lacked. The name refers to the place one steps off the ferry to Islay as well as the fortified wine component. I’m pleased with the result and think it pays a respectable homage to the unlikely but undeniable King of Citrus without whom no lemon, lime, orange or grapefruit would exist.

Port Ellen.

1.5oz / 45ml peated Islay malt whisky (such as Finlaggan).

0.5oz / 15ml ruby Port (I like Kopke).

1oz / 30ml fresh mandarin (or tangerine*) juice.

0.5oz / 15ml fresh lemon juice.

0.5oz / 15ml grenadine (homemade or good quality).

2 dashes Fee’s black walnut bitters (use a single dash aromatic bitters if you lack it).

Shake with ice and stain into a chilled champagne coupe. I didn’t garnish it because mandarin peel is a bit flabby but you can do so if you like.

Toast Citrus Reticulata.

* Tangerines are either just the same species as mandarins or as near as damn it that it doesn’t even matter – so use ’em instead if you like.

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Busted Flush.

Posted on 6th September 2024 by Andy

Ah, crap.

Busted Flush.

I’m sometimes asked how I name my cocktails. Mostly I’ll look for a connection between  the main ingredients and see if anything suggests itself but when that fails I turn to The List. Huh? Well, whenever I hear something that sounds like it would make a good name for a cocktail* I add it to a file on my phone with perhaps a suggestion of which kind of base spirit it might be suited to. When I’m stuck for a name for a newly invented cocktail I run through The (by now rather extensive) List hoping to find a good match and usually that bears fruit – or at least triggers a related idea. I should point out that once settling on a name one should check it isn’t already an established cocktail. I say “established” because in my opinion if there is a single instance of some shitty unbalanced concoction that has clearly barely passed anyone but the creators own lips they don’t get the right to hog a good name. Very occasionally I even use The List ass-backwards and create a drink around the name. Recently whilst perusing The List I came across a name I’d added a very long time ago on an evening when I was donating most of my meagre earnings to my “friends” in a game of poker. Busted Flush (4 red ingredients and 1 black) said the entry. Game on! To be fair this really isn’t usually the best way to create a cocktail but sometimes giving yourself some limiting factors actually helps with the creativity, forcing you to explore combinations you might otherwise never consider. This time I believe it worked out pretty well. The black(ish) ingredient is my own blend of dark Jamaican rum but feel free to use an existing one – US Coruba dark, Hamilton, Myers’s, Worthy Park 109 and Blackwell’s all fit the bill. The red ones are pretty standard** and listed below. What results is a somewhat Negroniesque drink but more bittersweet than just bitter thanks to the Heering and with a nice rich and complex depth from the addition of the vermouth and bitters. Otherwise simply make – and enjoy – it in the same same way as a traditional Negroni.

Busted Flush.

1.5oz / 45ml Dark Jamaican rum (see text).

0.5oz / 15ml Cherry Heering.

0.5oz / 15ml Campari.

0.5oz / 15ml Punt e Mes (or another sweet vermouth).

3 dashes Peychaud’s bitters.

Stir with ice and strain into a double old fashioned glass containing a block or sphere of clear ice. No garnish required.

Toast Corky McCorquodale (2004 – 1968)  who brought Texas Hold ’em Poker to the world.

*Can be literally anything such as a song, a book, a turn of phrase, a mythological or historical character, an animal or plant. Anything.

**If you don’t have all of these in stock you’re really not taking this cocktail thing very seriously and need to have a quiet word with yourself.

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Pulu + Lonkero.

Posted on 2nd August 2024 by Andy

Lonkero to the left of me Pulu to the right, here I am.

Pulu + Lonkero.

A Finnish friend, knowing me to be of the cocktaily persuasion, once told me of a drink that was popular in her youth that was called a lonkero. Upon hearing that this “cocktail” came in a can I likely lost interest and forgot about the lonkero. Until she returned from a trip home toting a 6-pack of lonkeros (or perhaps lonkeri for all I know). It being a hot day and the proffered can being ice cold I partook of the Finnish alcopop and damn if it wasn’t pretty damn tastily refreshing. It might be a little harsh of me to call it an alcopop as it does contain proper gin mixed with what appears to be white grapefruit soda. Other flavours exist but I am reliably informed that the grapefruit version in the blue can is the original. OriGINal. See what they did there? The full name on the tin is Hartwall Original Longdrink but the Finns just call it lonkero which just means longdrink and it should be ordered as such as complicating the ordering process at a Finnish bar is a big no-no*. Predictably enough I decided to reverse engineer the lonkero in proofy fashion into a long drink we can enjoy without a trek to Helsinki. It is immediately apparent that the lonkero is at heart simply a pre-made gin Paloma and thus this is not a particularly troublesome exercise. White grapefruit juice, gin, sugar and sparkling water aside, the one tweak I used to balance it to my liking was a tiny amount of citric acid crystals (themselves a common ingredient in canned drinks) but if you lack those a teaspoon of lemon juice will serve the same purpose. Tehtävä valmis! All that remains is to name the drink. Since it is similar to the Paloma which is Spanish for dove I first thought to give it the same treatment in Suomi. According to Google translate that is Kyyhkynen. Yeah, no. Upon informing my tame Finn of the problem she suggested using the Finnish slang for pigeon. Happily Pulu doesn’t sound a million miles from Paloma either. So there we have it: A simple and refreshing gin drink for a summer afternoon. Kippis!

Pulu.

1.5oz / 45ml dry gin (Finnish if you have any!)

1.5oz / 45ml white grapefruit juice (bottled is fine here).

1oz / 30ml simple syrup (1:1).

1/8 tsp of citric acid or 1 tsp of lemon juice.

Shake with ice and pour unstrained into a Collins glass. Top up with soda water and stir gently.

Malja suomalaisille – kansalle, joka ottaa juomansa vakavasti.

*The Finns are not big on unnecessary chit-chat, especially in bars.

 

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