Rediscovering the Classics: Welcoming Back Overproof Cognac

Cognac was once the workhorse spirit reached for more often than any other spirit. By the late 1800s with the phylloxera epidemic threatening to devastate the entire European grape industry, cognacs were still flowing into all sorts of concoctions in America. And with good reason--cognac is tasty. But as the blight continued, something had to change. For the wine industry that meant grafting American root stock onto European vines to curb the pests' steady appetite. The cognac industry made changes as well. For instance, the folle blanche grape, long the mainstay of cognac distillers, was passed over in favor of the more resilient ugni blanc grape. Even considering the changes and innovations cognac houses made, cognac's reign in the world of cocktails persevered. Even as many spirits fell out of popularity during Prohibition, cognac maintained a steady role as such classics as the Sidecar, French 75 both gained their popularity during those dark days. And if the resilience of the Stinger, which made it through unscathed, attests to anything, it is that cognac still carried weight in bartenders' hands.

When Americans emerged from the bleak days of the failed Noble Experiment, cognac, like many spirits, was forced to change again. New drinkers emerged, but their thirst was not for the more rough and tumble spirits that flowed during the golden era of cocktail. Their palates, fueled by years of sweeter drinks that required cream and other heavy-handed mixers to overpower the under-quality spirits, craved more mellow flavors, sometimes even invisible spirits. Thus, Canadian whiskey, bourbon, and vodka grew in popularity. With innovations in the areas of distillation, barrel-aging and blending, cognac producers were able to keep their spirit on pace with demand. Regardless of whether the industry changed to adapt to the market or whether it was just a happy accident, the resulting cognacs were smooth, drinkable and utterly complex. These changes would help define the cognac market for years.

No matter how revelatory a fine cognac's qualities may be in a snifter, the master blender's artistry can easily be lost in a mixed drink. While the hints of oak and vanilla can create a wonderful foundation, the other flavors in a cocktail often take center stage instead interacting with and enhancing the base spirit. While historically cognac has been used in conjunction with other stronger flavors--such as in the vieux carre where the rye is tempered by the milder cognac--cognac was never simply a pushover spirit. Like the whiskeys and rums of the early twentieth century, early cognacs were built for more, whether by choice or accident. And while this may have turned off certain tastes, those cognacs were able to carry a cocktail and not be pushed around. And even before the age of cocktails, brandies held up the punches of the world.

With the popularity of truly classic cocktails rising, the booze market has been steadily introducing products to allow those historic drinks to be re-created. And while those early spirits were rougher for many reasons, not all of them on purpose, they also were sold at higher proofs. This allowed the spirit to shine when mixed, and perhaps required that they be mixed. But as new products meant to replicate obscure ingredients emerge, we have also seen the the re-introduction of higher proof spirits with bolder flavors. Quality overproof cognacs give us a glimpse into what those classic cocktails may have tasted like and it becomes quite apparent why cognac was reached for so often.

Champagne Julep
Juleps were one of the first mixed drinks consumed widely across the United States. A simple mixture of spirit, mint, sugar and ice--nothing is more refreshing, especially in the heat of summer. Today, the julep has become linked to the Kentucky Derby, and it has become famous for its reliance on bourbon. This was not always the case. In the days before whiskey found a steady audience, a julep meant cognac. And just as an overproof bourbon works best in a julep--primarily because it won't be as affected by prolonged dilution--an overproof cognac also is a clear choice. Adding champagne to this already decadent beverage is quite extravagant, and incredibly delightful. Dangerous, yes, but delightful nonetheless.

Champagne Julep (adapted from Paul Clarke's recipe at cocktailchronicles.com) 

2 ounce cognac
7 mint leaves
2 teaspoons simple syrup
1 ounces champagne

Muddle lightly mint leaves in syrup. Retain one for garnish. Add cognac and then crushed ice. Top with champagne. Garnish with mint sprig.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Pierre Ferrand 1840 cognac, Chateau St. Michelle sparkling wine, and a 1:1 simple syrup. 

Prescription Sazerac
The original Sazerac was so named because of the cognac used to make it: Sazerac-du-Forge et fils. I have tried many Sazeracs with cognac and they are quite lovely. But with an overproof cognac, they are a revelation. Still, though it is not a true historical representation, using a mixture of cognac and rye creates a marvelous drink that has been a mainstay of my cocktail rotation. Much as the way that the cognac and rye play off each other in a Vieux Carre, the same is true in other incarnations. The rye dries out the more sweet cognac. The cognac balances the spicy rye. If you are using both an overproof rye and an overproof cognac, beware--this drink is hefty. But if your palate can handle the heat, it is worth it. Of course, give it a couple extra turns with the ice to make it balanced. Just because a recipe calls for an overproof spirit does not mean overall balance should be sacrificed. These overproof spirits are intended to be diluted in mixed drinks. The wonder comes from the way that they can retain their flavor in the face of other ingredients as well as the weight of water.

Prescription Sazerac

1 ounce rye
1 ounce cognac
3 dashes Peychaud's bitters
1/2 ounce simple syrup
3 dashes (or so) Herbsaint

Combine ingredients except Herbsaint in a mixing glass half-filled with ice. Stir and strain into a chilled old fashioned glass rinsed with Herbsaint. Express lemon oils and discard peel.  

Notes on Ingredients: I used Pierre Ferrand 1840 cognac, High West rye, Herbsaint Legendre, and a 1:1 simple syrup. 

Pink Sidecar
While the Sidecar was created sometime in the 1920s, it grew to popularity during the dark days of Prohibition. While certainly a lovely drink, the Sidecar grew into a quick slurp on the road to drunkenness. Even when a sub-quality cognac is used the lemon juice and orange liqueur easily mask it--and that is not counting that pesky sugar rim that would be added to the recipe in the 1930s. It would be easy to discount this cocktail as yet another get-drunk-quick drink, but there is more behind its pedigree than meets the eye. Many stories point to the Continent as the locale of origin, making the cocktail not one put together in the murky dens of ill-repute that proliferated in American speakeasies. Classy drinks could still  be found abroad where many American barmen emerged with the passage of the Eighteenth Amendment. But regardless of these creation myths, the Sidecar was always a drink I wanted to love. It was after all my first classic cocktail. And with such notorious cocktail luminaries as David Embury elevating the drink as one of the most basic drinks that every host should know, I always felt like I had missed something. Of course even he says that the Sidecar "is the most perfect example I know of a magnificent drink gone wrong." Embury takes the path most appropriate for one who only has access to standard proof cognac--he bumps up the booze and dries it out as much as possible and omits the sugar rim (8 parts cognac, 2 parts lemon juice, 1 part Cointreau). Once I tried the standard recipe with overproof cognac, I was floored and understood why this cocktail has been around for almost 100 years. This revelatory experience pushed me to experiment further, and I found that other liquors also created amazing results.

Pink Sidecar


2 ounces cognac
1 ounce pamplemousse rose
3/4 ounce lemon juice

Combine ingredients in a ice-filled shaker. Shake and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. 

Notes on Ingredients: I used Pierre Ferrand 1840 cognac and Combier pamplemousse rose. 

Using Homemade Ingredients: Apple Cider Syrup

As with any newly made syrup, the problem instantly becomes how do I use it? Fortunately since apples are so versatile, the potential applications seem endless--apple and citrus, apple and spice, apple and savory, apple and nutty. My only concern was that apples too often share the spotlight or simply act as the backdrop; they are hardly ever the star of the show. I was worried that somehow the syrups would not be robust enough and would get lost in the cocktail glass. In practice, this turned out to be a viable issue. While both syrups are quite robust on their own--the mulled apple cider syrup is especially delicious on oatmeal--in cocktails, the apple flavor was easily overwhelmed. But with some experimentation, I did have some rather surprising successes.

I have two "go-to" recipes when I am trying to figure out how to incorporate a new syrup into a cocktail: the old fashioned and the gimlet. Both allow the syrup's flavors to shine because there are fewer ingredients involved. Of course, the way that the syrup interacts with the specific flavor profile of a gin becomes the central issue. Because gin and apples in general work well together, I decided to start there. After discovering the relative delicacy of the syrup, I opted for a more traditional London dry gin. While an absinthe rinse is not usually included in a gimlet, it does add a nice element here that works indirectly to highlight the apple flavors.  

Apple-let

2 ounces gin
1/2 ounce apple cider syrup

Express the oils of a thick lime peel into the shaker. Combine  the peel with the other ingredients and shake with ice. Strain into a chilled absinthe-rinsed cocktail glass.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Whitley Neil gin and Pacifique absinthe.

The old fashioned seemed the perfect vehicle for the mulled apple cider syrup. The syrup's combination of fruit and spice propelled me toward barrel-aged spirits. Because of the many successful drinks pairing rye and apple brandy, rye was my first choice. But then again, I don't need an excuse to make a rye old fashioned. Unfortunately, this was not the best choice, as the apple flavors were easily overwhelmed. Though the drink was lovely, it could have just as easily been made with a cinnamon or clove syrup--not the ideal situation. I then tried brandy and a mellow rum and both were quite successful. At first the spices in the syrup came across strongest, but over time hints of apple started to peek out.

Variation on a Rum Old Fashioned

2 ounces rum
2 teaspoons mulled apple cider syrup
1 dash orange bitters

Combine syrup and bitters in a rocks glass. Add a large chunk of ice and pour in the rum. Stir to combine. Garnish with an orange peel. Optional: add an absinthe rinse to the glass before building the drink. 
 Notes on Ingredients: I used Plantation 5-year rum, Fee's barrel-aged orange bitters. I rinsed the glass with Pacifique absinthe.

As I started experimenting, I quickly discovered just how delicate my syrups were. For example, aquavit's more savory anise and caraway worked really well with the mulled syrup's warm cloves and cinnamon, but the apple completely disappeared. The apple cider syrup only acted as a sweetener. So I decided to utilize more delicate flavors. Gin softened with vermouth or sherry was much more successful. And a friend of mine recently discovered that the mulled apple cider syrup added a nice touch when used in a Manhattan. Adding vermouth or dry ingredients seemed to be the key to creating a successful cocktail.

Touch of Apple

1 1/2 ounces gin
3/4 ounce manzanilla sherry
1/2 ounce apple cider syrup
1/4 ounce Calisaya liqueur 
 Combine ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass. Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Notes on Ingredients: I used No. 3 gin and Lustau dry manzanilla sherry.

Underused Ingredients: Aquavit

My first introduction to aquavit came a couple of years ago at House Spirits Distillery in Portland. And while it was their Aviation gin that inspired the visit, it was their caraway-flavored spirit with the heavy notes of anise that really caught my attention. Of course, I went home with a bottle. At the time, I didn't have a lot of experience with aquavit, and it sat in my liquor cabinet for quite some time untouched. But thankfully all that has changed, and aquavit, with its complicated flavors, is one of my favorite things.

Aquavit, like gin, gives distillers the freedom to express their creativity and thus formulate a signature flavor. Fortunately, the boundaries are only limited by each distiller's imagination. Caraway is usually the dominant flavor, but other flavors like fennel, coriander, citrus peels and anise commonly round out the blend. Strangely, many of these ingredients are also used in gin recipes. But the presence of the caraway, as well as other more savory ingredients like cumin, dill or even amber (tree resin is used in the production of Aalborg), give aquavit a flavor profile all its own.

The only unfortunate thing about aquavit is its availability. Considering that more and more bartenders are becoming interested in experimenting with its notoriously savory flavors, historically only three brands have been imported: Aalborg (Denmark), Linie (Norway), and O.P. Andersson (Sweden). This is just a tiny fraction of the aquavit produced worldwide. The arrival of a new aquavit on the scene, Aquavit New York (Sweden, only imported to New York), may represent a much needed shift.

On the flip side, a few American craft distillers have recently become infatuated with the challenges and intricacies of aquavit. Who can blame them? These American aquavits have helped bolster the popularity of the spirit, making it a more common sight on back bars. Like many craft-distilled gins, American craft aquavits can often be characterized by their big, bold flavors. Krogstad Aquavit, from House Spirits, is unlike Scandinavian aquavits in that it has a whopping dose of anise in addition to the caraway. These bold flavors make a dram of this spirit a wonderfully intense experience. These powerful flavors make Krogstad especially well-suited for cocktails, because it can stand up to other bold flavors.

While aquavit's presence on cocktail menus has certainly grown, there is still plenty of room for improvement. But the caraway flavor can provide quite a challenge. Use too little, and you don't know it's there, too much and the results can be overly medicinal, at best. And like gin, even picking the best aquavit for a cocktail can prove problematic. American aquavits can easily overpower other delicate ingredients, and the Scandinavian aquavits can play the wallflower. All of these issues together have kept aquavit from receiving its moment in the sun. Hopefully this is about to change. Here are some of my more recent aquavit cocktail discoveries.  

Nordic Reviver (created by Evan Martin, Ba Bar)

3/4 ounce aquavit
3/4 ounce lemon juice
3/4 ounce Cointreau
3/4 ounce Swedish punsch

Shake ingredients with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass rinsed with absinthe.

Notes on Ingredients: I halved the aquavit between Krogstad and Linie and used homemade Swedish punsch.

Because of its herbal characteristics, aquavit can often often be substituted for gin, especially when the cocktail also includes fresh juices. In fact, like gin, aquavit can be easily be inserted in most vodka drinks to embolden the flavors.

This is one of my favorite Ccrpse revivers variations, though to be perfectly correct it is a variation of the Corpse Reviver 2a. In the original cocktail, Evan used Aalborg. I decided to blend a Norwegian aquavit, Linie, with an American one Krogstad, to bump up the flavors just a bit. The Linie differs from most of the other available aquavits as it has been mellowed for four and a half months in used Oloroso sherry casks. In the Nordic Reviver, the anise notes of the absinthe work exceptionally well with the caraway of the Linie, and the Swedish punsch adds a nice tannic, spice layer. I would think that the Krogstad would work equally well in this cocktail, though the absinthe rinse may not be needed.

[Unnamed Work in Progress] (created by Ben Philip Perri, Zig Zag Cafe)

1 1/2 ounces aquavit
1/2 ounce rye
1/2 ounce Punt e Mes
1/4 ounce maraschino liqueur
1 dash mescal


Combine ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass. Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Linie aquavit, Rittenhouse bonded rye, and Maraska maraschino. I chose the del Maguey Minero for the mescal.

Aquavit also pairs exceptionally well with rye. The Old Bay Ridge, David Wondrich's aquavit-rye old fashioned, showcases just how well this works in the simplest terms; it is a traditional old fashioned but with the spirit allotment split in half between the rye and aquavit. In cocktails with herbal vermouths, aquavit's affinity for rye becomes incredibly important--just a bit of rye mellows out the aquavit's herbaceousness and makes blending two very different herbal ingredients that much easier. While this cocktail is a loose variation on the Red Hook, it highlights what can happen when caraway intersects with rye. I find that the dash of mescal provides that extra level of oomph that really pushes this drink for good to great. Substituting a peaty scotch for the mescal would probably work as well, though it would still be quite different.

From Norway to Sicily


1 ounce aquavit
3/4 ounce Averna
1/2 ounce rye
1/8 ounce (bar spoon) Benedictine
2 dashes aromatic bitters


Combine ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass. Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Linie aquavit, Sazerac rye, and Angostura bitters.

Lately I have been kind of obsessed with adding amari to almost everything. So when I started thinking about aquavit, I thought, why not? Initially I was inspired to use Averna with its mild bitterness to match up with the mild Linie. Sweet vermouth was an option that I passed on. I really wanted to explore the intersection of the aquavit and the amaro. Using vermouth would have added a different feel, though it would have made the entire endeavour easier. Suffice it to say, the early attempts were ugly. Marley Tomic Beard of Sexton gave me some advice that led me to a perfect solution. Like in the above cocktail, the addition of rye really fixed this drink. Then the rest just fell into place. I am sure that further experimentation with aquavit and different amari would also yield really some really memorable drinks.

A Further Ode to the Corpse Reviver: Introducing Pisco

Many moons ago, but not too many, I was sitting on a bar stool at Rob Roy opposite guest bartender Jackie Patterson watching her measure and pour as a bartender is wont to do. When it was my turn, I ordered "bartender's choice" and told her I was looking for something refreshing. The sun was high in the sky, and a slight breeze could be seen fluttering the leaves on the trees lining the streets of Belltown; it was one of those perfect Spring days in Seattle. The kind of day that makes you almost believe we will actually have a summer. What I received was bright, citrusy and fizzy--indeed all essential elements of a refreshing beverage. Though I no longer remember all of the ingredients, what stood out to me was that the drink combined two ingredients I had never experienced in the same glass, Lillet and pisco. This pairing isn't mind-blowing and in no way requires a double-take or anything extreme like that. Lillet goes well with a lot of things. But it does match up extraordinarily well with pisco.

Only a couple of weeks before this Lillet-pisco revelation, I had been introduced to the Odd McIntyre, the Corpse 2's brandy-based cousin. So, seated at the bar in Rob Roy I had a sudden brainstorm--citrus, Lillet, pisco. Would pisco work in a Corpse Reviver No. 2? In my mind, the Corpse 2 is the ultimate Lillet drink, second only to the Vesper. It doesn't matter to me whether Cocchi is used instead of the softer Lillet, it's the thought that counts. No matter how you break it down, the inclusion of that orange-y aperitif is one of the defining elements of that drink. (Well, that and the absinthe rinse, but we'll save that for another post.) And if brandy could be swapped for the gin, why not pisco? After all, pisco is a type of unaged grape spirit that would be similar to an unaged brandy. Ever since that moment, I have been mildly obsessed with the Corpse 2.

As the onset of summer quickly filled up many of my weekends, it took me weeks to figure out the basic formulation for this drink. I tried to adhere to the original proportions, but the equal parts left the pisco buried under a weight of lemon juice. Bumping up both the Lillet and pisco really helped those flavors stand out more. The decisions were harder after. Absinthe rinse or no absinthe rinse. Or to put it another way, Corpse Reviver No. 2 or Odd McIntyre. After all besides the brandy substitution, the loss of the absinthe is the other difference between the two versions. In the end, I decided to keep the absinthe rinse, but something was still missing. Subbing lime juice for lemon was similarly tasty, but still incomplete. Going back to the drawing board, I started looking at other Corpse 2 variations for hints. The key was hidden in Zane Harris's Stone Fruit Sour, an excellent variation of the Corpse 2 that I found on Imbibe magazine's website. In that cocktail apricot brandy replaces the Cointreau, and peach bitters stand in for the absinthe. And it was those bitters that solved my pisco riddle.

Pisco Reviver

1  ounce pisco
1  ounce Lillet
3/4 ounce lemon juice
3/4 ounce Cointreau
1 dash peach bitters
1 dash absinthe

Shake ingredients except absinthe with ice. Strain into a chilled absinthe-rinsed cocktail glass. Garnish with a brandied cherry.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Fee's peach bitters, Piscologia Pisco, and Absinthe Verte de Fougerolles.

Ode to the Corpse Reviver No. 2: Version 2a

Despite its recent popularity, the Corpse Reviver No. 2 was once on the edge of extinction, as were most corpse revivers and classic cocktails in general. But thankfully, today, you can order a Corpse 2 at almost any craft cocktail bar, at least in Seattle, and you will receive basically the same delicious drink. Sure, subtle differences might crop up depending on a bartender's choices as far as the proportions, the garnish, the brand of gin or absinthe, whether to use Cocchi or Lillet, or even to rinse or not to rinse--the list is endless. But at the end of the day, those four main ingredients--gin, lemon juice, Lillet, and Cointreau--and that fabulous dash of absinthe that pulls it all together are what define the Corpse 2. That is, unless your bartender learned the Corpse Reviver from Trader Vic's Bartending Guide.

Somewhere along the line another corpse reviver entered the scene. It's not really that surprising, as versions of everything come and go. But this isn't just any old drink that would revive just any old corpse--this cocktail is identical to the Savoy Corpse Reviver No. 2 that we all know and love, except that it substitutes Swedish punsch for the Lillet. I can honestly say I never saw that coming.

Swedish punsch and Lillet are hardly alike. Even if you take into account the mystery that is the 1930s variation of Lillet that Harry Craddock used in his original recipe, the difference would still have been huge. Lillet is a wine-based aperitif that is mildly sweet and has a dominant citrus flavor. Swedish punsch, or at least the version I make at home, is made from a combination of rum and batavia arrack that has been infused with lemon and sweetened with tea syrup. Night and day, those two are.

The other ingredients in the two recipes are identical, even down to the equal proportions. The smidgen of absinthe is even there. As far as where this Corpse Reviver No. 2a came from, Erik Ellestad at Underhill-Lounge has some theories that sound very reasonable to me: he blames/thanks Trader Vic Bergeron.

Corpse Reviver No. 2a ( as adapted fromTrader Vic)

3/4 ounce gin
3/4 ounce Cointreau
3/4 ounce lemon juice
3/4 ounce Underhill punsch
1 dash absinthe

Shake ingredients in an ice-filled shaker. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Bellringer gin and Absinthe Verte de Fougerolles.

So let's cut to the chase already: what's different? The Corpse 2a is a tad sweeter and the Swedish punch definitely influences the overall flavor. But all in all, this libation is still well-balanced, refreshing, yummy, and very recognizable as a Corpse 2 variation. The tea notes, especially the tannins, stood out against the background of lemon and gin and played well alongside the tart, herbal flavors. The Cointreau seemed to play a larger role in the overall taste than it usually does in a Corpse 2, which is strange because the Lillet's orange notes are absent. The Corpse 2a is a pleasant change up from the norm that I would definitely recommend.

An Ode to the Corpse Reviver #2

Morning restoratives, or corpse revivers, were initially created when someone had the brilliant thought to combine bitters with their morning slings. Mind you, consuming morning slings was a customary practice at the time, adding bitters was the novelty. After a night of heavy drinking, what better way to clear the head, settle the stomach, and calm the nerves than a dram of booze, a couple dashes of bitters, and a little sweetener to mellow it all out.

These eye openers, fog cutters, and morning glories came in many forms and included almost anything that could potentially soften the effects of a hangover. Therefore, the ingredients were often a matter of taste. Perhaps the chosen cure combined a bit of milk and sugar mixed with your morning dram. After absinthe became popular, it often found its way into many anti-fogmatics, mostly because of its refreshing flavor and stomach settling powers. Its extreme potency was usually tamed with some sweetener and ice. Other pick-me-ups revolved around citrus and employed its tart flavors, not to mention the natural sugars and vitamins, to help bring the sparkle back to eyes clouded over with heaviness. The truth is that when strong morning tipples were common--and we're not talking about today's tame bloody marys and mimosas--everything was fair game. An entire category of drinks, with clever monikers, was devoted to helping the masses face a new day, often in spite of the one before.

Unfortunately, after the onset of Prohibition, only a few survived. And while the practice of partaking in a morning beverage barely survived, its days were also numbered. One thing to be thankful for though, is that the Corpse Reviver No. 2 is still alive and kicking.

Corpse Reviver #2

3/4 ounce gin
3/4 ounce Lillet
3/4 ounce lemon juice
3/4 ounce Cointreau
1 dash absinthe

Shake first four ingredients. Strain into a chilled, absinthe-rinsed cocktail glass. Garnish with a brandied cherry. (I have also seen it garnished with an orange twist.)

Notes on Ingredients: I used Bellringer gin and Absinthe Verte de Fougerolles

Few things in the world are as perfect as a properly made Corpse Reviver No. 2. The only down side is that few things haven't been said about it--this libation is one of the darlings of the cocktail community. From its history to the individual ingredients to the ways those ingredients have changed, thus forever altering the landscape of the beverage, almost every iota of information related to the Corpse Reviver No. 2 has been exposed or unearthed. And why not? It is a wondrous libation. With its four main ingredients in equal portions not only is it elegant and refined, but also easy to remember. And while the intricacy of the flavors is a key part of its success, the touch of absinthe is what truly showcases the beauty of restraint that the Corpse 2 symbolizes. That little hint of anise is where balance is found.

I am not going to bore you with sundry details that you can easily find elsewhere. The important thing is that many people have found inspiration in this cocktail, whether drinkers or bartenders. The Corpse 2 has provoked the creation of new cocktails as numerous bartenders have riffed on its proven recipe. These  variations can stand on their own, all of them are unnumbered and therefore their Corpse 2 reference passes unacknowledged. In a series of posts, I plan on further exploring these homages to the Corpse 2. I am sure I will miss some, but it will be a fitting ode to one of my favorite drinks.

So Much Absinthe: Firpo's Balloon

What is it about a full jigger of absinthe that so intrigued Charles Baker? While tastes have changed since the late 1930s, especially those regarding sweetness, Mr. Baker's fascination with all things involving heaping amounts of absinthe befuddles me. As someone who used recently learned to enjoy all things licorice-flavored, I can completely appreciate the beauty that hints of anise bring to so many classic cocktails, such as the Morning Glory, the Sazerac, or any Improved Cocktail. I can even understand the joys of a  Suissesse, Absinthe cocktail, Absinthe frappe, or any other cocktail that is wholly centered on the unique flavor profile of absinthe. But what I can't grasp is why anyone would make a cocktail with all these other substantial ingredients and then add so much absinthe to it that nothing else could be tasted. If you want an absinthe-based drink, have an absinthe drip.

Firpo's Balloon is one of Baker's more notorious drinks in this respect. Baker collected many extremely tasty libations like the Remember the Maine, the Jimmie Roosevelt, and the Hotel Nacional Special, which have turned many cocktail enthusiasts into hard-core Baker aficionados. But it is usually the Balloon, or one of the other drinks like it, that marks the time where the fascination begins to wane. Firpo's Balloon is one of those cocktails that creates skepticism, if not outright contempt. You don't even have to drink it to know something is wrong. The recipe provides all you need to know; we attempted it anyway.

Firpo's Balloon Cocktail (mildly adapted)

1 jigger rye (1 ounce)

 1 jigger sweet vermouth (1 ounce)
1 jigger absinthe (1/2 ounce)
2 dashes orange bitters
1 1/2 teaspoons egg white


Dry shake ingredients. Add ice to shaker and shake again. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Pray.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Pikesville rye, Martini & rossi vermouth, and Angostura orange bitters.

The original recipe calls for an entire jigger of absinthe. I just couldn't do it. The point was made just as thoroughly with half the amount. This cocktail smelled and tasted heavily of absinthe. None of the other ingredients could puncture this hard steel casing of absinthe. I wasn't surprised. But sometimes a drink can provide a cocktail geek like me with something beyond the mere exploration of flavors. It's hard to admit, but I have actually been looking forward to this drink for quite some time. For the nature of experimentation, I assure you. Before Firpo's Balloon, I had never tasted, or for that matter ever heard of, a cocktail that included egg white, and that did not also include some form of citrus. Egg white cocktails almost always call for some form of lemon or lime juice because the acids help stabilize that beautiful characteristic foam. I was very curious to see what happened when egg white was called for in a cocktail consisted entirely of, well, alcohol. Result: given the small amount of egg white, only a very little foam appeared. In contrast to most egg white drinks, the Balloon's texture was not velvety--in fact, it was quite grainy. And thus, our ultimate conclusions were: it tasted one-dimensional and the mouth feel made it undrinkable. Alas, a sink donation.

When I first really looked at the ingredients in an effort to salvage the Balloon, I felt very optimistic. Vermouth, rye and bitters--hello Manhattan variation. By significantly decreasing the absinthe, this drink is absolutely wonderful. In fact it could be considered a close relative of William Schmidt's Manhattan recipe in The Flowing Bowl. The differences are small but significant, my variation of Baker's Balloon will include some amount of egg white, and Schmidt uses gum syrup and maraschino. This similarity aside, a Manhattan with absinthe sounded fabulous to me. The question became--how much egg white do I use? I decided to see what would happen if I used the same amount of egg white that I would use in a whiskey sour.

Firpo's Balloon Cocktail (as adapted, trial #1)

2 ounces rye
1 ounce sweet vermouth
3 dashes absinthe
2 dashes orange bitters
1/2 egg white

Dry shake ingredients. Add ice and shake again . Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

The drink looked gorgeous, almost like coffee ice cream with a big layer of foam. The aroma smelled of anise mingling with the rich herbal notes of the vermouth. Each sip started with the flavors of the absinthe and vermouth, again herbal and rich. The flavor of the rye created the perfect foundation and rounded out the flavors. The orange hints and dryness of the bitters came through at the end before the vermouth and the absinthe mellowed into the aftertaste. The texture was the real star--a creamy, velvety Manhattan with a touch of anise. Unfortunately, it was too good to last. About halfway through, I noticed particles sinking to the bottom of the glass. As it turned out, with all of that booze, the egg white just wouldn't stay together. Back to the drawing board.

Firpo's Balloon Cocktail (as adapted, trial #2)

2 ounces rye
1 ounce sweet vermouth
3 dashes absinthe
2 dashes angostura bitters
2 teaspoons egg white

Dry shake ingredients. Add ice and shake again. Strain into chilled cocktail glass.

I didn't change anything except for the amount of egg white and the bitters. I went back to the original amount for the egg white and found that such a small amount is exactly what this cocktail needs. While it wasn't as pretty as the last--the color was not as rich and no real foam appeared--it did not separate. The smell and taste were very similar to that above. I did replace the orange bitters with aromatic on the fly, which was a welcome addition. The spiciness came through on the aftertaste and really brought the idea of the Manhattan to the forefront. The texture was still creamy and smooth, though less so, as expected. All in all, a worthwhile experiment, with a very tasty cocktail at experiment's end. Now I feel like Mr. Baker's words will work: "This is another one to watch cannily lest our pedal extremities fold up at some totally inappropriate moment." Indeed!

Gender Roles, Brandy and Caraway

"Just why handsome women prefer sweet and creamy cocktails has always troubled us, but they do."

Charles Baker

One vaguely disconcerting, and vaguely hilarious, element of nearly all old cocktail books is the idea that there are cocktails for men--strong, boozy concoctions to put, or keep, hair on your chest--and cocktails for women--creamy, frothy libations that are typically very sweet and very absurd. Granted, there are some "ladies" cocktails that are strong,  boozy and tasty, but they are few and far between. How did these drinks become associated with women? Well, many are pink and tend to shy away from bold flavors. Who decided women don't like big flavor? When we find him we will let you know. As for color, some very tasty potables are pink, and I for one would never turn away a pink lady.

Reading about these gender stereotypes would be more palatable if we could lean back and laugh at the folly of the past. But those old-fashioned notions about gender appropriateness from the early twentieth century are still with us, though they have been under siege for decades now. Television shows, movies and the Internet flood our culture with silly ideas about what it means to be a man or a woman. It is really scary to consider just how well these ideas align with ideas about gender roles from the 1920s or even earlier. But, at least in the land of alcohol there are glimmers of hope. For example, I know far too many women who like whiskey, and not just the easy stuff, like Irish whiskey or corn-heavy bourbons like Maker's Mark. (Okay, I will admit it, you can never know too many women who like whiskey.) These women choose to stare down the cask-strength and drink it neat--hair on the chest be damned. I also know women who cringe when they hear the word whiskey. But these women still wouldn't be caught dead ordering a sweet, frothy cocktail--they drink martinis and tequila old-fashioneds and negronis. Nor would they be tempted by a cocktail simply because it has cream in it, or because it is pink. Whiskey or no, these women know how to handle themselves and they heartily embrace bold flavors. And if a bold-flavored drink just happens to be pink or have cream in it, so be it.

When Charles Baker writes that a drink is for "when ladies are present," I can't help but shake my head and offer a little sarcastic chuckle. It is easy to forgive him--the 1930s were a different time. But then again, perhaps not as different as we like to believe. Pink, sweet concoctions designed to cover up the taste of alcohol are still described with the word "girly." And I have been told, more than once, that I drink like an old man as if it were a bad thing. Perhaps the real difference is that today, for the most part, it isn't revolutionary to strip off that mantel of gender appropriateness. In Charles Baker's day, it wasn't quite so easy to treat a gender role like an accessory that matches your outfit. And maybe we should be glad that Mr. Baker includes "lighter" variations for the milder sex, whether we choose to interpret that as applying to a man or a woman. He could have just ignored women altogether, like so many others. On the other hand, we are now left with two suspicious beverages to worry about, instead of just one. So with a mild shudder, bring on the beverages!

The Balaklava Specials No. I and II explore the intersection of cognac and kummel. In No. 1, aside from a decorative sink of grenadine, there is not much more to it. The recipe for No. II  is similar except that cream and three distractingly fragrant, potent flavors have been added, all for the benefit of the fairer sex. Uh, thanks? I can understand the cream from a historic point of view. Back in the days of yore, supposedly women liked a creamy beverage. I can almost understand adding a sweetener, and please note understand not tolerate. But I am not sure how kirschwasser and absinthe, at 80 proof and 130 proof, respectively, are making this drink "girly" or even "girlier"? The mere thought is confusing and slightly frightening. Did he have to offset the fact that cream is non-alcoholic? Mr. Baker even issues this warning: "And for heaven's sweet sake don't think this snake-in-the-grass drink is a harmless and gentle lady's affair just because it has cream in it!" Ladies, hold on to your skirts.

Balaklava Special No. 1
1 jigger cognac (1 ounce brandy)
1 jigger kummel (1 ounce aquavit)
1 dash grenadine (1 barspoon)
(1/4 ounce simple syrup)

Fill a cocktail glass with crushed or shaved ice. Add brandy and "kummel" and carefully pour in grenadine so it sinks to the bottom.

Notes on Ingredients: I substituted brandy for cognac, used homemade grenadine, and since I didn't have any kummel, I sweetened Krogstad aquavit per the specifications I found on Underhill Lounge: 1 oz aquavit plus 10 ml syrup. Also note, I cut the proportions, just in case it was gross.

Caraway, anise and the undeniable smell of brandy were most apparent on the nose. Tracy, however, was sure she could smell the berry tartness of the grenadine as well. This strange drink had an extremely rich texture, and, despite that richness and an initial hint of sweetness, it was actually quite dry and surprisingly complex. The flavors of the brandy and caraway were strongest, and each sip was punctuated with anise. As we progressed, the grenadine grew in prominence. Though this drink really wasn't as bad as it initially sounded, I would never ask for it. I was actually surprised by how complimentary the flavors of the caraway and brandy were. As far as improvements go, I would try decreasing the "kummel," losing the grenadine, and adding aromatic bitters--in the guise of a caraway-flavored Japanese. Also, that crushed ice would just have to go.

Balaklava Special No. II (as close to what Baker stipulated as possible)

1 jigger kummel (1 1/2 ounces aquavit )

1/2 jigger absinthe (1/2 ounce)

1/2 jigger cognac (3/4 ounce brandy)
1/2 jigger kirschwasser (3/4 ounce)
1/2 tsp orgeat
1 1/2 tsp thick cream
(15 ml simple syrup)

Combine ingredients in a chilled shaker. Shake "briskly" and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

We actually did make this drink, though I confess--I used slightly less absinthe that the original. In my experience anything with more than 1/4 ounce of absinthe in it, will only taste like absinthe. This drink was no exception: it smelled of absinthe and tasted like absinthe. In addition to the anise madness, a hint of cherry came across in the aroma, and a hint of caraway and cherry was present in the taste. In spite of the cream and orgeat, the texture was quite dry. It was better than I thought, which isn't saying much. We still could only withstand about two sips each.

Balaklava Special No. II (as adapted)

1 1/2 ounces brandy
1/2 ounce aquavit
1/4 ounce kirschwasser
1/2 tsp orgeat
1 dash absinthe
1 1/2 tsp heavy cream
5 ml simple syrup

Dry shake ingredients to combine. Add ice and reshake. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. 

The smell of cherry was most prevalent in the aroma. Cherry and almond appeared first in the taste. Those flavors in turn blended into anise and caraway. The swallow was all brandy. This drink had a slightly creamy texture, though it still remained predominantly dry. Tracy and I agreed that the cocktail was much improved by changing the base from "kummel" to brandy and decreasing the kirschwasser and absinthe significantly. The flavors were more crisp as opposed to blanketed with absinthe. As these drinks highlight the overlapping of kummel and brandy, I chose not to severely reduce the "kummel." This was perhaps the downfall of my variation. The caraway never seemed to mesh with the others. A further reduction might have improved the cocktail, but any thread of the original would have been lost. Then again, maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad thing.

End note: of all three cocktails, Tracy and I agreed that we liked the version for when women are not present the best. I can't say I am terribly surprised.

Astor Hotel Special

"Our epidemic of missing steamboats began in Shanghai and was the fault of this very blend--sitting in the charming old Astor, with fog setting in"

Charles Baker

During 1926, Charles Baker found himself on a world cruise because he was lucky playing the stock markets. Shanghai became a notorious port of call on this trip not only because he become so besotted that he effectively marooned himself there, but also because his proposal to a "delightful maiden" was rejected in favor of a man whose only claim to fame would be that he was kidnapped by a famous villain, Alan "Creepy" Karpis, a member of the notorious Ma Baker gang.

Imagine yourself sitting a bar stool as the evening fog has started to creep over the city. The popular tea dances are just beginning to start. You've got your arm around a delightful maiden that in just this ethereal light looks wiser than her years, and yet still more delicate than she really is. But perhaps all of that nonsense is just a reflection of you, already deep in your cups. The waiter in his white coat catches your eye and nods as you raise your hand for another round of specials. The couples swirl along the dance floor, filmy tiered dresses spinning into tuxedo jackets. Rye is being poured at every table. The weight of the evening pulses in your brow, bringing easy smiles and exaggerated gestures. A foghorn blows in the distance, lilting from somewhere off behind the jaunty call of the clarinet. Little do you know, or even care, that as the sound disappears into the fog, your bags and belongings are trailing across the harbor on their way to the next port. When the frosted white goblet is set before you, you catch the sly glimmer in your gal's eye before looking back at the creamy foam almost spilling out of the glass. If only we could all get so lost in the East.

The Astor Hotel Special

1 1/2 ounces cognac (2 oz brandy)

1 tsp maraschino liqueur 

2 tsp egg white

3/4 ounce absinthe (1/4 oz absinthe)

1/2 tsp lemon juice 

club soda (1 1/2 oz)

Dry shake all ingredients save club soda. Add ice and shake hard. Strain into a large wine goblet and add soda.

Trial Number One

What a disappointment. The milky brown color was not appetizing and the lack of foam was an immediate downer after all that shaking. The smell of licorice on the aroma practically knocked me down as I took a sip. And though I made some initial adjustments, balance was nowhere to be found. Simply increasing the brandy and decreasing the absinthe just didn't do enough. Even at a quarter ounce, the absinthe was pretty overwhelming. I could just barely make out the brandy and maraschino. The brightness of the lemon juice peeked out on the swallow, but mostly it was all absinthe all the time. The drink was drinkable, but not particularly enjoyable.

Trial Number Two

Revisiting the Astor Hotel Special a couple of weeks later, I decided to scrap my earlier efforts and go with my gut. My final revisions are below. Visually the drink looked better--a nice pinkish brown below a layer of white foam. I cut the absinthe even further, increased the lemon juice, and used an entire egg white. Because of the lemon juice adjustment, I upped the maraschino content to create balance. I added the lemon oils to the foam on a whim, but it seemed to work.

The lemon oils mingled with the absinthe in the aroma. With a smooth texture and a subtle fizziness, the drink was strikingly dry. The brandy contributed a richness throughout, while the lemon added brightness and balance. The maraschino was most apparent at the end of each sip where it worked well with the licorice flavors. The absinthe still ran the show, but all in all, a little tinkering produced a surprisingly refreshing libation. I can now understand why this drink might knock Mr. Baker's socks off, though I still feel like the maiden had a bit more to do with the marooning that he was willing to admit.

The Astor Hotel Special (as adapted)

2 oz brandy

1 1/2 tsp maraschino liqueur

1 egg white 

1 barspoon absinthe

2 tsp lemon juice

1 1/2 oz club soda

Dry shake all ingredients save club soda. Add ice and shake again, hard. Strain into a large cocktail glass, add club soda, and express the oils of a lemon peel on top of the foam.

Charles Baker and Absinthe

Charles Baker is my hero. Like many other cocktail enthusiasts, I have fallen for his languid prose and bon vivant lifestyle set against the backdrop of exotic locales from the distant past. Ah, what it must have been like, traveling the world in search of the redolent and quaint, throwing back drinks with Ernest Hemingway and other exciting personalities, stumbling through foreign towns discovering and rediscovering the fabulous and the sublime all in the name of experience and adventure. Baker escaped America, and its ever-present Puritanical leanings, at the exactly the right time, Prohibition, to tramp the world in search of excitement, or at least great food and drink. One part cocktail guide, one part travelogue, and one part memoir, The Gentleman's Companion: Around the World with Jigger, Beaker and Flask is perhaps the original blueprint for a cocktail blog: you won't love all the drinks, you might not even try all the drinks, but what will bring you back again and again is his wit and the excellent prose.

This book, like many other cocktail guides of yore, begins with absinthe. Warning: any cocktail with absinthe in the title is going to be full of black licorice-y goodness. Your mouth will be coated in refreshing anise and you will be lucky if you can taste anything else for a while. It is the nature of the beast that is absinthe. So, when undertaking the absinthe-based cocktail challenge, it is crucial to choose an absinthe that you like on its own, say in an absinthe drip. And if absinthe isn't your cup of tea, these drinks may not be for you. Sorry. The truth is that you can use absinthe as a accent, but when it is the base you can only bump up other flavors against it; at the end of the day, nothing will make it budge. For Baker's absinthe cocktail, I chose the Herbsaint Legendre. Granted, this is not an absinthe per se, but I enjoyed its complexity in a Sazerac so much that I thought, why not? Its proof is a little lower and it won't turn pearlescent in the presence of water, but I figured, close enough.

Absinthe Cocktail (as adapted)

1 1/2 jiggers absinthe (2 1/4 ounces!)
1 dash anis, anisette
1/2 jigger water (3/4 ounce)
1 tsp or less simple syrup (1 tsp)
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash orange bitters
1 tsp egg white (1/4 ounce for two)

Dry shake ingredients. Add cracked ice and shake very hard. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass . Twist a piece of lemon or lime peel over the surface, but do not drop in.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Herbsaint Legendre for the absinthe, Sambuca in the place of anisette, and a richer demerara and turbinado simple syrup of 1.5:1. The orange bitters were Angostura orange.

I can't say that this was the most successful absinthe cocktail I have ever had. Let's start there. It was bright green, as expected, like the Wicked Witch of the West's face. The inclusion of the egg white produced a smidgen of white foam on top. The measly teaspoon of egg white that Baker calls for greatly limits the foaminess. The drink smelled of anise and tasted of anise. The lemon oils, though, were noticeable in the aroma and, to a lesser extent, the first sip. But barring that first sip, I could not detect the presence of anything else, save the slight sweetness that the sugar added. The egg white, though paltry, did contribute its characteristic smooth texture to the drink. Alas, though I tried to push through, and have in fact enjoyed an absinthe cocktail in the past, I couldn't finish this one. I wonder if using a real absinthe would help, but instead of going down that patch, I geared myself up for the absinthe frappe.

Absinthe Frappe (as adapted)

2 ounces absinthe
1/2 tsp anis del mono or French anisette
1 glass of cracked ice (1 cup cracked ice)
(4 mint leaves)

(Muddle mint briefly in anisette in a chilled mixing glass. Remove mint.) Add ingredients and shake hard but briefly. Pour into chilled rocks glass. Garnish with green straw. 

Notes on ingredients: I used Absinthe Verte de Fougerolles and Sambuca in the place of anisette.

This drink was much more successful. I chose to add the muddled mint mostly because of the previous drink's failure. And in the past, I had consumed a wonderful absinthe julep with muddled mint, simple syrup, and absinthe, so why not? The fact is that in spite of my intentions, I couldn't taste the mint. Oh well. But in general I found this tipple extremely tasty and refreshing. I don't know if it was because of the relative simplicity of this drink , or because I used a real absinthe. The cracked ice made sure that the absinthe could evolve through the various stages of dilution, and I could really taste the different notes in the absinthe itself. Regardless, this drink made me almost forget the previous absinthe cocktail and was a nice end to the evening. All's well that ends well, in cocktails at least.

Adventures in Tequila (part 1)

I used to be indifferent to tequila. Early in my drinking career , I couldn’t stand tequila and the lack of choices never really compelled me to change my mind. With the tequila shots, the tequila slammers and lackluster margaritas—watered down, over-salted monsters consisting of powdered sour mix and cheap, rough spirits—more often than not I just passed. A lot of things have changed since those days. A tequila slammer still doesn’t sound all that appetizing, but oh, how the landscape of options has changed. My relationship with tequila really began to change a couple of summers ago when Tracy and I went to a local Mexican restaurant. This restaurant has a substantial list of tequilas, and because of that they offer tequila flights. There is simply no better way to really explore a new spirit than to have a flight. I remember it was a Chinaco flight, blanco, reposado and anejo. Though my mouth wasn’t accustomed to the flavors, the experience was an eye-opener and I was determined to learn more. Now not only is tequila one of my favorite cocktail ingredients, I have also become enamored with mescal. Lucky for me, and everyone else as well, tequila has recently taken off in popularity in many craft cocktail bars. New tequila concoctions show up on bar menus and the Internet with regularity, and all of them push far beyond the classic margarita or paloma. Bartenders are pairing the different types of tequila with herbal liqueurs, bitter digestivos, and wine-based aperitifs to create new flavor combinations that are not only unexpected but also delicious. Last weekend Tracy and I focused our cocktail attention on some of those tequila cocktails that utilize some of those unusual ingredients. On Friday, we started with the Rosita.

Rosita

1 1/2 ounce reposado tequila (Milagro)
1/2 ounce Dry Vermouth (Noilly Pratt)
1/2 ounce sweet vermouth (Martini & Rossi)
1/2 ounce Campari

In a mixing glass filled with ice, stir ingredients. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with a lemon twist (I used a Meyer)

This cocktail is beautiful, though I am sure the picture doesn’t do it justice. The Campari provides the bright red color and I am sure that the sweet vermouth just deepens it. The aroma is filled with the oils of the Meyer lemon twist, though I could also detect the faintest hint of tequila. Tracy didn’t find that the tequila stood out in the aroma, but instead she detected the familiar herbs of the Campari. As we dove in, the taste of the citrus was the first thing we noted. The bold flavors of the Campari and the reposado dominated soon thereafter, and remained potent even as the drink warmed up. I could only faintly detect the grape flavor of the vermouth in the aftertaste. Overall the drink was great, but we both thought it was a bit less complex than some others we have had. The flavors just didn’t evolve as much over the course of the cocktail—not that it wasn’t a tasty aperitif. The Rosita is a perfect aperitif, dry and refreshing, just what is needed in a preprandial. The combination of the smoky tequila, the bitterness of the Campari, and the spike of brightness from the citrus was exceptionally tasty.

The next drink we tried I found on Chuck Taggert's blog, Looka! The Broadway Theatre District Cocktail was a winner in a cocktail contest in Los Angeles where all of the entries were named for local neighborhoods. One of the more interesting contest rules was that the cocktails could not include citrus juice.

Broadway Theatre District Cocktail

2 ounces anejo tequila (Corralejo)
3/4 ounce bianco vermouth (Dolin)
1/4 ounce Benedictine
1 dash grapefruit bitters (Fee's)
1 dash Xocolatl bitters (Bittermens)

Stir ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass. Strain into an absinthe-rinsed cocktail glass. Garnish with a flamed orange peel.

This cocktail has a translucent golden glow that reminds me of straw. The aroma is full of citrus, which makes sense since I can actually see the oils from the twist right on the surface. There is also the distinct smell of anise and the herbs from the Benedictine and vermouth. Tracy noted that she could also detect the cactus smell of the anejo. On first sip, the tequila dominates the flavors. The cocktail's creamy texture also stands out and it provides a rich, velvety mouth feel. The bianco vermouth and Benedictine combine with the tequila to produce a complex sweetness that is nowhere near cloying. In fact it is downright refreshing considering the potential for sweetness in those two elements. The anejo provides the backbone of the drink, and the orange oils and herbal notes are expertly layered on top of it. The mellow anise of the absinthe rinse and smoky tequila linger after each sip. We both thought this drink was complex and well-balanced, a definite winner. It is no surprise though that the tequila-Benedictine pairing worked so well after stumbling on the Nouveau Carré. This is just another tasty example. Now all I need to do is learn how to flame an orange peel and we will really be in business.