A Champagne Cocktail Worthy of Happy Hour: Ile de France Special

I am a big fan of the champagne cocktail. For many years I would have said that there was no better way to drink champagne. Granted I didn't much like champagne, or any sparkling wine, for that matter. But my tastes have changed. Over time, I discovered other beverages that put bubbly to good use--and some of them I would opine, are far superior to the champagne cocktail. For example, the Morning Glory Cocktail, with necessary champagne substitution, the Seelbach, the Jimmie Roosevelt,and the Old Cuban all come to mind. I am also partial to a negroni sblagliato. But those all require more than just dousing a sugar cube in bitters and dropping it in a glass of champers. The champagne cocktail is simple and elegant. Like the Old-Fashioned, it is a drink I never get sick of. I mean sure, I could just drink a glass of sparkling wine, but I could also just drink a glass of whiskey. Time and place are important factors here. Just like certain circumstances call for a champagne over a champagne cocktail, certain circumstances require, a term I use loosely, a jigger of whiskey neat over an Old-Fashioned. And how weird to find ourselves back at that fuzzy place where craving becomes an issue.

A champagne cocktail is my go-to alcoholic beverage to accompany brunch. I know that the overwhelming majority tends to favor the mimosa. I also know some people who lean toward a Ramos Gin Fizz or a Brandy Milk Punch--and sometimes I like to lean with them. Their company is usually exuberant and filled with possibilities, though a mid-day nap might also be required. But as I am sure I have posted before, a nice champagne cocktail creates the illusion of luxury and relaxation--exactly what brunch should mean. The unhurried gorging of oneself over hours, belts and comfort be damned. The problem is that other than for this occasional indulgence, I never look to a champagne cocktail. For some reason, they have been limited to brunch only. Thank goodness for Charles Baker, though its no surprise that he is posthumously forcing me to expand my drinking horizons.

Perhaps the reason why I never have a champagne cocktail after about three p.m. is because I don't take it seriously as a cocktail. It is a rather light drink, considering that it is simply a mildly flavored glass of wine. I usually crave a little kick At least for me, I tend to favor cocktails with a bit more of a kick in the evening. That's what is so wonderful about almost all of the champagne cocktails in Baker: at least four out of five have a slug of brandy in them. And this doesn't only up the ante on the kick. A smooth richness of flavor comes through as well. As far as the Ile de France Special specifically, mingle the brandy with the usual suspects (sparkling wine, syrup and bitters) and a float of yellow chartreuse and you get a perfectly herbal beverage that totally is perfect as the sun is sinking down the sky.

Ile de France Special (as adapted)

1/2 teaspoon simple sugar
1/2 ounce cognac
3 1/2 ounces champagne
1 dash orange bitters
1/8 ounce (1 bar spoon) yellow chartreuse

Into a chilled cocktail glass or flute, add syrup, cognac, and bitters. Stir gently to incorporate. Top with Champagne. Carefully float yellow chartreuse.

Rhubarb Season: The Syrup

Every year Tracy and I eagerly await the sight of rhubarb at the farmer's market to herald in the spring. Those bright red stalks with their slightly webbed tops have become a beacon for the coming bounty of artichokes and asparagus to be followed, finally, by summer. Warmer temperatures and that trick of light that some call sunshine are surely on their way, though off somewhere in the distance. We both love rhubarb. Rhubarb crisp, rhubarb sorbet, rhubarb pickles, all things rhubarb are celebrated in our kitchen. This year, I am going to get in on the action, and as a generous coworker recently brought us an obscene amount of chopped rhubarb, three projects are in order. Phase one is rhubarb syrup. Making rhubarb syrup is actually much easier than some of the other syrups I have made. In fact, if someone has already broken down the rhubarb stalks into bite-size chunks, it is scandalously easy.

What you need:

• 1 3/4 cups chopped rhubarb* (1/2-inch chunks)

• 1/2 cup sugar

• 5 ounces water

• pinch of salt

• 1/2 ounce 80 proof vodka (optional)

Preparation:

Add rhubarb, water and sugar to a pan. Bring mixture to a boil and then simmer covered for 30 minutes, stirring every 5 or 10 minutes. After 30 minutes, let cool (still covered). Strain through a fine sieve, using a spoon to extract as much of the liquid from the pulp as possible. Pour into a sealable bottle. Optional: add 1/2 oz vodka to stabilize the mixture for longer storage. Keep refrigerated.

(recipe adapted from cocktailvirgin's blog)

*Note: I like my rhubarb syrup to retain some of its characteristic tartness. If you like it sweeter, use less rhubarb or more sugar.  

The first cocktail that we tried using our syrup is also from cocktailvirgin's blog, called the Final Rhuse, which is a variation on the Last Word.

Final Rhuse

 3/4 ounce pisco
3/4 ounce yellow chartreuse
3/4 ounce rhubarb syrup
3/4 ounce lime juice

Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Wow is this drink pink—watermelon, pink flamingo pink. The aroma is very herbal, from the chartreuse, though there is a hint of the pisco's smokiness, too. The tanginess of the rhubarb comes across first, followed the lime flavors, which dominate most of the drink. The herbal character of the chartreuse reappears on the swallow while the grape flavors of the pisco and its funkiness linger on the palate. This drink is quite refreshing and a perfect summer cocktail. Tracy though that a thyme garnish would be an appropriate addition to really accentuate the herbal aromas.