The Last Train.

Woo woo.

 

The Last Train.

A while back I was making myself a pre-dinner Negroni as I am wont to do and I had a “let’s mix this up a bit” moment (as I am also wont to do) which took me to a strange place. A Negroni is such a classic drink that I long assumed all vaguely logical variations had been tried and codified: the Boulevardier, the Kingston Negroni, the White Negroni etc. Mais, non. Having let my bottle of Amaro Montenegro languish at the back of the cocktail cabinet a little too long I have spent much of this year rediscovering its manifold joys – as you may have noticed from recent articles. Knowing that it has a particular affinity with mezcal I did what seemed incredibly obvious and used it in place of Campari in a Mezcal Negroni for an equal parts combo of mezcal, Montenegro and Italian vermouth (which IMHO simply must be Punt e Mes in a Negroni). A slice of grapefruit peel completed the picture. And? Well, it was damn tasty if I do say so myself. So tasty that my first thought was that this must be a well known variation that I’ve simple never come across. I Startpaged it (I don’t Gxxgle anymore) and while there are a few things that come vaguely close, to my shock this simple and elegant combination appears unrecorded in the cocktail canon. I immediately decided this should be called a Montenegroni but sadly that perfect name had already been snagged by Montenegro for a slightly tweaked Negroni using their own amaro in place of Campari. Ah, well, you can’t win ‘em all. I guess I’ll just have to dig into my little notebook of obscure cocktail name ideas. An important observation is that with Montenegro being a tad sweeter than Campari you really neeeed to be using Punt e Mes as your vermouth as it is slightly bittered itself. I you can’t get any I suggest adding a dash or two of aromatic (eg. Angostura) bitters to a more normal Italian vermouth. When cutting your garnish don’t be afraid to go a bit deeper than normal as a little bitterness from the pith will do no harm in this case.

I did my due diligence and tested my recipe on a couple of pretty hard-core Negroni-heads and it got their stamp of approval so here for your sipping pleasure I present:


The Last Train.

1.5oz / 45ml* Mezcal of decent quality.

1.5oz / 45ml* Amaro Montenegro.

1.5oz / 45ml* Punt e Mes.

Stir with ice and strain over a big clear ice cube (or ball) and garnish with a slice of grapefruit peel. No grapefruit? OK orange will suffice.

Toast Swervedriver , especially this song from their excellent 1993 album Mezcal Head.


*This makes for a largish drink but you can easily scale it back, given its equal parts construction, should you prefer.

Posted in Recipes | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Japanese Highball + Improved Highball.

Say “hai” to the Highball.

Japanese Highball + Improved Highball.

I am recently returned from a trip to the land of the rising sun and it would be remiss of me not report on Japanese drinking culture. It’s not, at least in the mainstream, a very cocktaily culture but aside from the sake and beer staples there is a mixed drink that merits some discussion: the Japanese Highball. This simple drink is just a Scotch (or sometimes Japanese whisky) and soda and is served in literally every bar and restaurant as well as the ubiquitous Seven Eleven store in a can. Unsurprisingly this just tastes like watered down, fizzy cheap scotch which may sound a bit uninspiring but in the heat of late summer/early autumn was pretty welcome when served ice cold with plenty of clear ice*. In the years following the Second World War Japan was occupied by American forces and certain small chunks of American culture became popular with some of the youth. Denim jeans, Rock ‘n’ Roll, beer and whisky being perhaps the most notable. The thing with whisky was that during the war America largely ceased production leaving barely enough Bourbon and rye for the home market. Winston Churchill on the other hand allowed the distillation of Scottish whisky to continue. Some say as a way to lift morale but more likely because he was drinking a sizeable slice of the production himself. Thus the occupiers of Japan were awash with Scotch and over time the locals also found a taste for it too eventually deciding they could probably make it just as well as the Scots. They were not far wrong. At this time Americans often called a long mixed drink a “highball”, a phrase which dropped out of favour in the US but stuck in Japan coming to mean specifically a Scotch and soda.

Improvey time!

But I think we can take the Japanese Highball and elevate it somewhat. I’ll take my inspiration from the fact that there is sometimes a variation on offer where ginger ale is subbed for the fizzy water (which 100+ years ago would have been called a Mamie Taylor in the west but let’s not worry about that). I wondered about splitting the difference and adding a bit of garnish flavour and came up with this tweaked Highball which I quite like. The first step was to upgrade the whisky from a base level blended scotch to a base level single malt. I picked some Glen Moray which in Scotland we might call a “supermarket malt” which is not super exciting but for just a few more currency units provides a little more smoothness and sophistication which I think is important here given the nakedity of this mixed drink. Of course you can use any damned whisky you like in your Highball and definitely should. A very small amount of ginger syrup takes the edge off that raw scotch flavour as does a swathe of nice fresh lemon zest and a a slice of fresh ginger. While the changes are minor I found the taste more approachable whilst staying fairly true to the original recipe. Kampai!


Improved Highball.

1.75oz / 50ml Japanese or Scottish whisky (see text).

0.25oz/ 7.5 ml ginger syrup

Pour into a well iced Collins glass.

Top up with good quality sparkling water and stir gently.

Garnish with a slice of fresh ginger and a swathe of lemon peel.

Toast the films of Akira Kurosawa (1910-1998).


*Japan has no truck with cloudy ice and nice clear cubes fresh out of the Hoshizaki are found everywhere.

Posted in Recipes | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Valkyrie.

Do, do, do, dooooo, do…

Valkyrie.

This quick. Busy month. Holidays! Last month Montenegro. Montenegro good! This month more Montenegro! Own recipe. Gin, Montenegro, lemon juice, ginger syrup, bitters. Shake. Up. Yum! See you next month!


Valkyrie.

1.5oz / 45ml Gin of choice (but not flavoured!)

0.75oz / 22ml Amaro Montenegro.

1oz / 30ml fresh lemon juice.

0.5oz / 15ml ginger syrup.

2 dashes orange bitters.

Shake and strain into a chilled champagne coupe. No garnish.

Toast flying Scandi chicks.


 

Posted in Recipes | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Honey Thief.

Bzzzzzzzz.

Honey Thief.

Last month we talked about what makes the perfect summer drink and used the Daisy de Santiago as an example. This time I present my own take on the warm weather drink in the form of the Honey Thief. If you recall our requirements for such a drink are coldness, hydration, simplicity and light floral and herbal flavours. I wanted to use an amaro in this and one of the lightest, summeriest amari is Montenegro; replete with citrus, herbs and spices yet still balanced and easy-going. I combined it with a slightly larger quantity of gin to create a split base for our summery concoction. The choice of gin is yours to make as long as you steer clear of any of the sweeter and/or flavoured varieties. No need to go too pricey either as those subtleties might be lost against the herbal punch of the Montenegro. The latter, I feel I should point out is actually an Italian product and was (re)named to honour Princess Elena of Montenegro who married some Italian dude in 1896. Anyway, base: check. It’s summer so we want some citrus in there and I’m going for lime even though lemon juice would work just as well. Before squeezing cut a nice long strip of the peel off to use as our garnish. We have some sweetness in our base from the Montenegro already so we’ll boost that with some honey syrup. In all my recipes I use a ratio of three parts runny honey to one part very hot water stirred to combine. Not difficult, even on holiday. Now here have some choices depending on whether we are at home or on vacation without access to all our tools. In the former case let’s shake with ice and strain into an iced glass for maximum chillage otherwise feel free to just build in the glass with plenty of ice. The last little trick is one I borrowed from my own Tijuana Tonic and that is to lengthen our drink with Indian tonic instead of soda, the bitterness of which brings us into perfect bitter/sour/sweet balance while adding a little quinine bite. All to be stirred gently together in a tall glass and garnished with our left-over citrus peel.

Imbibe, enjoy and chillax!


Honey Thief.

1.25oz / 37ml gin of choice (see text).

0.75oz / 22ml Amaro Montenegro.

1oz / 30ml fresh lime juice.

0.75oz / 22ml honey syrup (see text).

Shake with ice, strain into an ice filled Collins glass and top up with 2-3oz / 60-90ml tonic water. Stir gently and garnish with a lime twist.

Can also be built in the glass.

Toast 80s Scottish white-boy soulsters, Hipsway.


 

Posted in Recipes | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Daisy de Santiago.

I’m half crazy (from this heat).

 

Daisy de Santiago.

With high summer approaching it is good to have a cracking summer cooler to hand. But what makes one? A good hot weather drink starts cold and stays cold and that that happens at its most chilly when you shake with cubed ice then strain over crushed ice. Your cooler shouldn’t be too strong – although plenty of Tiki ones are – especially if it is for day-time consumption. Hydration being important we want a decent water content but all that ice and relatively light touch on the alcohol are already leaning into that. A nice cooler has light and refreshing ingredients so we should leave our long aged and deeply flavoured spirits and liqueurs on the shelf and reach for light rums, gins and the more fruity/floral/herbal liqueurs. It should also be fairly easy to make, especially as you might be on holiday without fancy tools or a blender. That’s a lot to consider but fear not for I have the perfect summer elixir in hand which comes from Charles H. Baker in 1939 via Martin Cate to our frosty glass.

Charles H. Baker was a globetrotting food and drink writer with a flowery, verbose, conversational style that seemed at least a generation past its sell-by date. Yet there is much to be gleaned from his books (and gleaned we have) at least one of which is handily back in print. In The Gentleman’s Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book or Around the World with Jigger, Beaker and Flask gushes about the Daisy de Santiago served to him at Bacardi HQ in Havana, Cuba. Times have changed since then. Let’s break down our summer cooler’s simple name. A daisy is a drink from the sour family of cocktails that is sweetened not with a syrup but with a liqueur. Santiago de Cuba is Cuba’s second city on the south coast and the location of Bacardi’s erstwhile distillery. The Daisy de Santiago doesn’t show up much after WWII and I think we need to credit Martin Cate for its resurrection in his superb 2016 Tiki cocktail book Smuggler’s Cove. Martin adds a little soda water to the shaker while Baker adds it later which is a cunning upgrade in my opinion. What this does is effectively a substitution for blending as the soda provides both the extra aeration and dilution blending provides for the poor blenderless. And as you have no doubt notices that extra dilution and simplicity of construction are two of our key asks in a summer cooler. For those worried about shaking with soda water be assured it is possible with a small amount just be sure to seal and hold the shaker tightly as the effervescence somewhat counteracts the vacuum effect that normally keeps a shaker sealed. He also puts the Chartreuse in the shaker rather than floating it and adds the teaspoon-and-a-half of sugar syrup that Baker calls “optional” but I reckon modern tastes are aligned to that*. You can reduce or skip it if you like things very tart. So far so good. All nicely streamlined and simplified. But then Catey messes with the rum and boy do things get controversial when Martin talks rum, having himself developed a whole new categorisation of rum that some think genius yet others can’t quite get behind. I fall in the latter camp while admiring the effort on an eternally thorny problem**. Cate calls for a “blended lightly aged” rum (type number 2 in his book) which would be anything from Appleton Signature or Mount Gay Eclipse to El Dorado 3 or Diplomatico Blanco. Uh, uh. This needs to be Cuban rum and there is no Cuban rum in Smuggler’s Coves rum categories! Now I understand he is located in the USA where Cuban rum is under stupid embargo but if you are trying to recategorise all the world’s rum you can’t just ignore the existence of one of the very biggest producers that is extremely available worldwide. Bacardi is, incidentally, now a Puerto Rican rum and largely uninteresting (as is their US “Havana Club” FYI). Of course I tried it Cate’s way with some Appleton Signature but to me the best results were with bona fide Cuban rum like Havana Club 3 Anos/Original or, if you are feeling a bit spendier Havana Club 7. For those of you *sigh* without access to real Cuban rum try some Plantation 3 stars or El Dorado 3 but not US “Havana Club”. For the “daisy” component Yellow Chartreuse is called upon and that I fear means it is time for update for the ongoing Chartreuse Crisis. I wrote a couple of years ago that I hoped the shortage would blow over but even here in the “core markets” it is still difficult to find and to boot the price has pretty much doubled. Yikes. On the plus side some alternatives to the real monky spirit have hit the market (as well as the ones I discussed in ‘23) and I’ll likely try some when current stocks are used up. I’ll be sure to let you know what I make of them.

‘Nuff said. Recipe:


Daisy de Santiago.

1.5oz / 45ml Cuban rum (see text).

0.5oz / 15ml Yellow Chartreuse (or alternative).

1.5 tsp Demerarra syrup to taste.

1oz / 30ml fresh lime juice.

1oz / 30ml Soda water.

Shake carefully (with a firm grip) with ice and strain into a double Old Fashioned glass packed full of crushed ice. Garnish with a sprig of mint.

Toast the summertime


*There are also reasons to believe that limes were smaller 80+ years ago and recipes of the time called for “the juice of one lime.” Even today the amount of juice a single lime gives up is quite variable leaving us the need to rebalance older recipes and, indeed, adjust to taste.

**One I largely avoid by recommending specific rums and figuring my readers are smart enough to find similar alternatives as necessary.

Posted in Recipes | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Three American whisky substitutes.

The real great replacement.

Three American whisky substitutes.

Trumpo the Clown is at it again, threatening 50% tariffs on products from the EU. Looks like it’s time we got serious about replacing our American whisky (as discussed recently) with products from friendlier countries. I got off to a bit of a faltering start when one of the promising bottles of Canadian whisky I bought turned out to be bottled and owned by a US company, proving that you need to do your research in advance. I try to pick spirits that are likely to be fairly available to my readers and in this case that’s a wee bit tricky but I reckon at least one of these should be available in your neck of the woods. Without further ado let’s look at this trio of post-American whiskies which, as an added bonus, all hail from countries which are in the upper tier for their respect for international law and human rights.

Jameson Black Barrel.

Let’s get straight out of the gate with my “almost everyone can get their hands on this” pick. And it might be a bit surprising. It certainly surprised me. My first thought for a bourbon replacement was to go Canadian but we run immediately into a couple of problems. As I alluded to above, a disappointing number of Canadian whiskies are US owned so, to save you the research, Seagram’s, Canadian Club and Black Velvet are out. Where I’m at those are by far the three most prevalent north-of-the-border options. Bugger. I plan to dip a bit further into Canada in due course but in the meantime I got a tip-off that there was a bourbon alternative close to home. From Ireland. I was suspicious but gave it a go. Jameson Black Barrel is named for its use of re-charred ex-bourbon barrels and thus closely mimics the bourbon ageing process despite the use of a different mix of grains (aka the “mash bill”). In the US various mixes of corn, wheat and rye are the raw materials whereas Ireland (and Scotland) stick pretty religiously to malted barley. This does not immediately sound ideal but we shall proceed undeterred. We observe a fairly standard looking Jameson bottle but with a nice wood topped cork which is certainly an  upgrade from their entry level whiskies. The black label looks nice and marks it as a part of their “reserve series” (whatever that means) as well as reflecting the use of those charred barrels. A mention of those barrels is found on the back label but there is scant other information besides the frankly disappointing “40% vol”. Meh. For the price, which we’ll get to in a bit, I expect it not to be watered down to the legal minimum. Just sayin’. I turn to the internet in search of more information but find out little more other than that it is a blend of pot still and grain whiskies with no age statement forthcoming. It’s not exactly encouraging, yet things improve considerably once we stop faffing about and actually open the bottle. While there isn’t a great deal happening on the nose it does indeed smell more like a bourbon than your typical Irish whisky (yes, I’m just going to continue to spell it the Scottish and Canadian way) which is good news for our intended use here. The gold colour suggests some age but for all we know it might also be caramel boosted. Talk to us Jameson. Talk. To. Us. When tasted I find it quite pleasant. Rounded and warming with flavours that bounce back and forth across the Atlantic from Cork*** to Kentucky. We have the familiar vanilla and caramel notes of bourbon but there is still a slight yet persistent Irish whiskey (oh, all right, just this once) flavour that I feel must be the barley calling. You know, this might just work. Tried in a few bourbon cocktails the Irishness fades back a little further and the cocktails drink just like they were bourbon based. Does it work as a bourbon sub? Yes, for sure. Is it a superb mixing whisky? Not particularly. It is also on the pricey side for a mixer – which to be fair was likely never Jameson’s intention – at about €37 for 700ml. However it is very widely available and might be the only game in town in some regions. It is also quite enjoyable to drink on it’s own so we certainly get some double duty out of it. So for some it can be a baseline US bourbon replacement. But some of us can – and will – do better.

Millstone rye 92.

Produced by Zuidam distillery which is (barely) in The Netherlands, Millstone Rye is our outlier in this group as it is not widely available. If you are not a BeNeLuxer you could skip this one but I think it gives an insight into what other ryes are out there. Unlike bourbon, rye whisky is free from geographical restrictions and as such there are a few ryes that are made in European countries. I think it is fair to say that Zuidam are a distillery that mainly focusses on jenever and liqueurs but they do like to dabble in a few other spirits. I am a big fan of their rye (rogge in Dutch) jenever so this was a logical place for me to turn to in my rye whisky quest. Production of their rye whisky appears to be tiny as evidenced by the label information. Each bottle is marked with a distillation date and a bottling date the gap between varying from 4 to 9 years from the bottles I’ve seen (my bottle was over 7 years between). This means we are looking at not even a “small batch” but “single barrel” product. And we pay accordingly, for this is not a cheap whisky coming in at about €40 for the 92 proof (46% abv) offering and €60 for the 100 proof (50%) version. Expensive but not outrageous considering the batch sizes and ageing. It comes in a traditional looking clear glass bottle with a perfectly fitting wood and synthetic cork. The label isn’t very sophisticated but is striking enough with the black, red and gold touches. I did prefer their older bottle which was more “modern” with a label that had more information on it* but I have gleaned that data from pictures of the older bottles online. There’s those specific distillation and bottling dates (happily still present on the newer labels) and mentions of the 100% locally produced rye mash bill milled by Dutch windmills, small copper pot still distillation and maturation in new American** oak. Let’s crack it! In the glass we observe a rich coppery-edging-into-bronze spirit which releases a massive spicy hit of rye when sniffed. The rye-forward punch carries through in the flavour. Intensely, intensely ryey but because of that other notes are somewhat subdued. This is very different from the American ryes we are familiar with and takes some getting used to. Considering the seven years in oak it feels less rounded and even a little thinner than I expected and while I enjoyed it well enough I felt it lacked complexity as a sipping whisky. But we are talking about a spirit from single barrel and must treat it as such. Without blending from multiple barrels we are getting a whisky that will inevitably have some variation between bottlings. However, we are here to evaluate its suitability as a mixing rye and this is where things get very interesting. Millstone’s rye flavours shoulder their way to the front in the classic cocktails I tried (Manhattan and Boulevardier) in the most delightful way. They were simply transformed into delicious rye delivery devices. In that sense we are getting our value for money here that we are not as a sipping whisky in my opinion. Clearly it is not for everyone but if, like me, you are a lover of such classics grab yourself a bottle of Millstone Rye 92 if you have the chance. In terms of the wider world of ryes I think this proves there are exciting European alternatives to be discovered.

Lot 40 Canadian Rye.

I few weeks ago I used some Lot 40 – a properly Canadian rye – in my Fermi Paradox and while at the time I said I’d not review it I’ve decided to include it here as it seems to be a little more widely available than I first thought. Lot 40 is Canadian made whisky with majority French owners (Pernod-Ricard) so we are on safe ground with this one. It’s a stable-mate of the J.P Wiser brand of Canadian whiskies which we might get to in future. I love the bottle; tall, straight sided with a old line diagram of a still screen printed directly on the bottle and a diagonal paper label pasted on top. Classy. We have parts of that label in dark green which in the US has become pretty much the standard colour code for rye whisky. It is a clear bottle which I like because you can see the colour of the contents before you buy it. All three of our bottles here are clear and I applaud each of those the distilleries on their transparency. Again there is a nice wood topped cork that fits well. We see that it is small batch copper pot distilled from 100% rye and aged in new oak barrels for an indeterminate time (although I’ve read rumours of 6-8 years) before being bottled at an acceptable, if a touch light, 43%. In the glass we note a bright coppery hue that would be consistent with the rumoured age. The smell is much more reminiscent of a typical American rye (George Dickel for example) than I expected and indeed if I did not know better I might think this to be an American rye. The flavour continues in that vein too. Spicy, rounded, hints of wood and honey and a nice lingering finish. It is well balanced being dry but not bitter and I find myself really enjoying this delightful rye. It’s very familiar to the rye drinker and not the slap in the chops that our Dutch rye delivered. I’d be happy to sip on this of an evening but that is not why we are here is it? The cocktails! And, yes, and as by now you might have guessed it does the job very well indeed. Exactly what you’d expect from an American mixing rye without the punch through that Millstone delivers. Given that, it also has a second string to its bow. For I am of the opinion that almost any cocktail which uses bourbon as a base is even better with rye. If you agree with that then Lot 40 can be a bourbon replacement too in which case it certainly surpasses Jameson Black barrel for potentially a few less non-dollars. Ka-ching. The price and availability are variable but I was able to find a few online sources with prices broadly in line with comparable American ryes (I paid €36 for 700ml). As such it is pretty tempting to call “mission accomplished” but we’d better leave such thoughts to the:

Conclusion.

So we’ve tried our trio and found some interesting options which I hope might help the like-minded amongst you. I shall further pursue the quest whilst current chaotic conditions continue and post my findings as and when. In the interim I have predictably stocked up on the Lot 40 and keep a beady eye open for Millstone ryes on discount. The Jameson is there as a backup for those short of options. It would be nice to think some non-US distillers might consider creating new whiskies to fill this void but with 4+ years lead times we cannot hope to see anything very soon but of course we can hope that the situation in the USA might not last that long.

Note to my American readers.

I very much hope you understand that my reasons for my avoidance of US products come not from any hatred of you or your country. Quite the opposite in fact, as I myself am “half Americian” by marriage, have family there and have enjoyed more trips to the USA than I can count. On the other hand it should be understood that people in other countries dislike being threatened, lied about and disrespected by the current administration just as much as Americans do. A majority of those I talk with in the Netherlands have been actively avoiding US products in the last few months – and without any encouragement from me! If America puts its house in order and fully respects other nations and its own residents I will be first in line to buy a bottle of Wild Turkey 101, Peychaud’s bitters or George Dickel rye. Until then, as you can see, there are plenty of other options to plug the gap. I doubt those who find my stance objectionable are very numerous within my readership but if you find yourself offended please comfort yourself with the knowledge that I am simply exercising my free speech and freedom of choice as a consumer – values which I know are very important to you. Thank you for your attention on this matter.


*Having gone from describing production details to tasting notes. Which is disappointing as I can taste the contents by simply opening the bottle!

**Yeah, not much we can do about that as it happened years ago!

***It is distilled in their Midleton distillery rather than Dublin.

Posted in Spirits | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Too Soon/Not Too Soon.

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.


 

Posted in Recipes | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Fermi Paradox + Lot 40 rye.

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.

Posted in Recipes | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Black Douglas + William Lawson’s whisky.

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…

 

Posted in Recipes, Spirits | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Ultimate Daiquiri

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.


 

Posted in Recipes | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment