How About a Little Restraint with Your Bitter: The Bitter Padre

Bitter used to be my middle name. An order of brown, bitter, and stirred would have me rapt, watching the bartender like a hawk. Mere mentions of new amari online, had me scouring the city's back bars in search of a taste. And often this search would just lead to me procuring my own bottle. I experimented with adding bitters, digestive or aromatic, to every classic cocktails I came across, whether it was a daiquiri, the Japanese cocktail or even a Cosmopolitan. My obsession knew no bounds.

But then something happened. My girlfriend is not so into amari (shock and horror!). As I sought to make her cocktails that she liked, I found myself staring blankly at my liquor collection. Where would I even start? How could I make a cocktail without using a bitter ingredient? In trying to please her very developed palate, I had to think outside of my comfort zone. At first it was frustrating but I now believe that this was the best thing to happen to me. I was very far down the path to forgetting what a balanced cocktail tastes like. Just because a drink is strong and bitter, doesn't mean it is balanced.

Balance is the key factor in creating a successful cocktail. A great bartender can create a drink that is sweet and still balanced, tart and balanced, strong and balanced. Granted being able to make a drink to suit your audience is also important and should provoke creative individuals to think outside of their comfort zone. The hard part of this comes from the fact that your senses crave what you actually put in your mouth. Say you eat a lot of chocolate. You will then crave chocolate. If you eat bitter chocolate, you will crave bitterness. Too little awareness of this can create a palate that is hopelessly out of whack.

As I started thinking about this fact, it became a lot easier to make cocktails that were adjusted to my girlfriend's taste. The more I challenged myself to look beyond of the brown, bitter, and stirred category, the more I found that I liked different things. New flavor combinations came to mind easier. But most important, I regained my knowledge of where balance is.

Don't get me wrong, I still l love a big flavorful, and yes bitter, cocktail. It just has to ring with the right balance. Many go too far, and perhaps solely for bragging rights. The following drink may look like that on paper but it's not. Full of big flavor? Hell yes. But it is tempered, restrained. And it is in that restraint that success comes. Might it still make my girlfriend scrunch her face? Well yes, but even she agrees that it is balanced. And there is one secret ingredient that makes it all work: salt.

Bitter Padre (created by Nikki Worley, Witness)

3/4 ounce mezcal
3/4 ounce Cynar
3/4 ounce Campari
3/4 ounce Fernet Branca
pinch of salt

Stir all ingredients with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange twist. 

Notes on Ingredients: I did not have Campari, so substituted Luxardo Bitter. I also used Fidencio mezcal. The original calls for del Maguey's vida.

A Fernet Sparkler to Ring in the New Year

Every year on New Year's Eve, Tracy and I celebrate the coming year with champagne cocktails and a movie marathon. The wisdom of this decision has become clear over the years when we consider what it means to spend the last night of the year on the town--the trouble of finding a cab, the obnoxious crowds, the challenge of even obtaining a drink, and the almost predictably foul weather. And when weighed against Seelbachs and French 75s, or Airmails and Old Cubans, or even simple Champagne Cocktails, opting to stay in seems almost genius. The only difficult part is choosing what to have. This year while constructing the cocktail menu, the memory of a particularly tasty champagne cocktail popped into my head, the Recoleta. We first encountered this drink over a year ago at Sambar and notoriously, it contained Fernet Branca. The pairing of champagne and Fernet piqued my curiosity and I soon became obsessed with finding it or a similar drink. But to my disappointment, my Internet searches were primarily fruitless. Even uncovering champagne cocktails with any amari turned up few options.

Though I could not find the recipe for the Recoleta, my time was not spent in vain. I did unearth one cocktail that included both champagne and Fernet--the I.B.F. Pick-Me-Up. Created in the 1920s by Bob Card, a bartender at Harry's New York Bar in Paris, this cocktail was first published in Barflies and Cocktails (1927). However, I discovered it tangled up in all of the hangover cures that so dominate the subject of cocktail blogs during the last weeks of the year. Like in the Fernet Cocktail (Robert Vermeire's Cocktails How to Mix Them (1922)) that later became known as the Toronto, a small amount of Fernet is added to the combination of a "more neutral" base spirit and a bit of sweetener, here provided by the orange liqueur. It is the addition of champagne that provides the interest, however--the acidity of the sparkler could have easily undone the balance.

I.B.F. Pick-Me-Up (adapted Bob Card's original creation)

2 ounces brandy
3 dashes Fernet Branca
3 dashes Cointreau
Champagne

Combine all ingredients except for champagne in a mixing glass. Stir with ice and strain into a chilled champagne flute. Top with chilled champagne.

The I.B.F. stands for the International Bar Flies, a group of, well, we'll just say bar flies that was created by Harry MacElhone and O.O. McIntyre in 1924. Its mission was (and supposedly is) devoted to "the uplift and downfall of serious drinkers." This eye-opener has everything you could possibly wish for in a hangover "cure"--hair of the dog (cognac), effervescence, potable bitters for the stomach, and a bit of sweetness. It would have been easy to just thrown this together and call it a night, but the lack of Fernet sparkler spurred me on to create my own. The I.B.F. was simply a perfect place to start.

Fernet Branca is a tremendously complex amari that is incredibly bitter. Because of its strong herbal flavor, it is incredibly polarizing and has inspired many strong opinions. When first introduced to it, many people greet its taste with a grimace and some sort of guttural, instinctive sound, like GAH! Usually they only persevere because Fernet is a  powerful digestive aid. It is an acquired taste for sure.

Pairing other flavors with Fernet can also create problems, however. One of the most popular ways to drink it is, actually, neat, with a ginger beer back, though many of its adherents will opt for a lager. Ginger and Fernet go wonderfully well together. Because of this, I thought that a nice spicy ginger flavor would add an interesting element to the I.B.F.

Fernet Champagne Cocktail

1 ounce brandy
1/2 ounce Fernet Branca
1/2 ounce Domaine de Canton
1/2 ounce orange curacao
4 ounces sparkling wine

Chill mixing glass thoroughly. Add all ingredients except sparkling wine and stir to mix. Pour liquid into a chilled champagne flute. Top with champagne. Garnish with and orange twist.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Paul Masson VSOP brandy and Chateau Ste. Michelle sparkling wine.

Of all the drinks I made this New Year's, this drink was by far the favorite. Complex and refreshing, with layers of flavor, each sip was bold and interesting. Though the recipe may seem a bit large,  we have large champagne flutes. Fortunately, it can easily be halved. Though I used the Domaine de Canton, the ginger flavor was not as strong as I had  originally intended. Using a liqueur with a more intense ginger flavor, like the King's Ginger, might rectify this though the balance may also suffer. However, this product is not yet available in Washington yet (grumble grumble). Another option for a more gingery, less Fernet-y drink, might be to make the I.B.F. Pick-me-up substituting the ginger liqueur for the Cointreau. Regardless, it was though a wonderful way to ring in the new year.

White Dog vs. Vodka Part Two: The Bumpass Hound Showdown

In order to have a successful showdown, the cocktail choice was crucial. It needed to really accept white whiskey and highlights its unique flavors. The Albino Old-Fashioned was one option, but it seemed too easy. I also considered the White Manhattan, but it didn't really suit my mood at the time. The more I think about it, though, I am sure it would provide interesting results. Instead, I chose the Bumpass Hound.  To date, the Bumpass Hound is my favorite way to get white dog into a cocktail. This lighter version of the Toronto, one of my absolute favorites, really showcases one of the way that white whiskey can really excel in a cocktail. Even as the unaged whiskey plays a supporting role, it accents the aged rye well, lightens up the bolder elements, and still manages to bring its unique flavor to the mix.

Jim Romdall's recipe, which I found on Paul Clarke's blog cocktailchronicles.com, calls for an unaged primarily rye-based whiskey, specifically Wasmund's rye spirit. I, unfortunately, don't have any unaged primarily rye-based whiskey. Instead, I will be forging ahead with an unaged primarily wheat-based whiskey, Death's Door from Wisconsin. The different grain base compounded with the Death's Door's lower proof (Wasmund's is cask strength) will result in a very different Bumpass Hound that will lack heat and spice. But since I don't have a rye-based full-flavored vodka, I didn't think it would matter that much. This exercise is really just for the sake of my curiosity, not to prove some sort of scientific hypothesis. Besides sometimes you just have to make due with what you have.

Bumpass Hound (Jim Romdall, via cocktailchronicles.com)

2 ounces rye
1/2 ounce unaged whiskey
1/4 ounce Fernet Branca
1/4 ounce simple syrup
1 dash Angostura bitters

Stir in an ice-filled mixing glass. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange twist.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Fernet Magnoberta, Pikesville rye and Death's Door white whiskey. Because I ran out of simple syrup (for shame!) I used Chinese five spice syrup, which added an interesting dimension.

On the nose, the orange oils completely dominated the aroma. The first sip was characterized by the spicy flavor of the rye, though the orange oils were present as well. The dry herbal/menthol notes of the Fernet in combination with the flavors of anise and Sichuan peppercorns from the syrup then usurped control. The bitters came through at the end of each sip and resonated through the aftertaste mingling with the menthol of the Fernet. As with the Toronto cocktail, a pleasant sweetness helped to keep the rough and tumble elements in order. The Bumpass Hound was not quite as deep and flavorful as a Toronto, though, and thus was a nice change of pace. 

Death's Door white whiskey is notoriously light and subtle, at least in comparison to the other white whiskeys I have tasted. Part of this is due to its heavy wheat grain bill, part of this comes from the distiller's vision . Unfortunately, this means that it becomes a bit lost in the Bumpass Hound. It is not initially detectable but stands out primarily because of the way it softens the other elements. It almost seems to dilute them without sacrificing any proof. As Paul Clarke noted in his post on the Bumpass Hound, a milder white whiskey doesn't make the same drink that the overproof rye spirit does. The milder white whiskey he references is a corn-based one, but it seems that a wheat-based white dog provides similar results. In retrospect, I wonder if I should have bumped up the amount of white whiskey to account for its non cask strength status. Another time perhaps. Its funny how this sort of exercise tends to raise more questions than it answers.

Vodka Bumpass Hound (a blasphemous adaptation!)

2 ounces rye
1/2 ounce vodka
1/4 ounce Fernet Branca
1/4 ounce simple syrup
1 dash Angostura bitters

Stir in an ice-filled mixing glass. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange twist.


Notes on Ingredients: For comparison's sake I used all of the same ingredients, except for the very full-flavored vodka, Ebb & Flow.

Not surprisingly, this drink retained the same powerful aroma of orange oils. However, the scent of the malted barley spirit also made its presence known. It was apparent early on that the vodka had totally changed the makeup of this cocktail; both in terms of aroma and taste. It would not be covered up. The barley came through strongly on the first sip and provided a formidable match to the spicy notes of the rye. Perhaps this struck me because I tasted the vodka version second, and the white whiskey version was still very present in my taste memory.  Like the previous Bumpass Hound, this drink was exceptionally smooth but seemed a touch sweeter flavor as the vodka's vanilla notes carried through. The Fernet and various spices were strongest throughout, but like the white whiskey version, dominated the aftertaste. Even with the pronounced vodka flavors, this drink was quite pleasant and still balanced.

Ebb & Flow vodka is a 100 percent malted barley spirit that has a ton of flavor--especially when you compare it to other vodkas on the market. In a drink like the Bumpass Hound, even the other overwhelmingly bold flavors can't push it around. This is commendable for a vodka. Usually it is used as a supporting ingredient, even when it is the base. But then again this is no ordinary vodka. Regardless, I was pleasantly surprised by how well it stood up to the other flavors, like a force to be reckoned with.

Conclusions:
Perhaps it wasn't really fair to use the Bumpass Hound for this showdown. I should have at least guessed at my own bias. Unsurprisingly, I found both versions compelling and interesting, but in different ways. I am sure that the Fernet and rye had more to do with this than either the vodka or the white dog. The logical next step would include making more Bumpass Hounds using the same recipe but with a less assertive grain-based vodka and a bold-flavored white whiskey to really offer some other points of comparison. But we'll save that for another day.

Only the hard question remains: which version did I enjoy more. If I have to pick, I liked the Bumpass Hound aberration with vodka better. It surprised me at the time, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The vodka version was balanced and had bigger flavor If the white whiskey version had wowed me with flavor, I am sure my conclusions would be different. Considering the fact that most white whiskeys are funkier in general, a bold vodka with very clean flavors wouldn't stand a chance. Well at least not with my palate. But as of today, vodka has won the Bumpass Hound Showdown.

A Vodka Experiment

I'm not usually interested in creating original drinks and will happily imbibe others' creations, whether they are old or new. But the truth is, vodka and I have hit a wall. I had every intention of giving the endeavor a fair shot. But after hours spent clicking my mouse down to the circuits, with the dry, bleary eyes of a video-game addict, I just can't take it anymore. I have searched the books in vain; the experts have no suitable answers, and I am tired . . . and thirsty. So, in the name of self-interest, I have decided to get up off the bar stool and brandish my own mixing glass. Just one pivotal question remains: How can I work vodka into a drink that is essentially brown, bitter and stirred?

Why lie? It has been the holy grail all along: a proper modestly dry, bitter cocktail that can really do what all the enthusiasts claim vodka can do. To boil it down, I want to fit vodka into my flavor sweet spot. All of my favorite libations are primarily dry, herbal, bitter and quite strong. Why should I expect anything less from vodka? Because it isn't usually used that way is not a good enough excuse. Because only a few people have dared to tackle this issue is not going to cut it. But why are there so few options, you ask, dear reader? Most people who drink cocktails that are primarily dry, bitter, herbal and quite strong are not only not interested in vodka, they absolutely abhor it. It's true, check the blogs. So, without a clear audience, the pattern of available recipes moves in a never ending cycle. Few drinks are made with vodka that are really interesting and challenging. Thus, nobody thinks a vodka-based cocktail is capable of being interesting and challenging. So, in turn, few drinks are made that are really interesting and challenging, ad nauseum. Someone has to begin.

Every cocktail enthusiast trying to salvage a place for vodka on the bar--albeit a very small place--repeats the same mantra: vodka is a blank slate that allows other bolder flavors to shine. It adds proof without getting in the way of whatever else is going on in the glass. These are not novel, bold ideas; vodka has been added to fruit juices for exactly the same reason for years. Herbal liqueurs have also been used to excellent effect in drinks like the Drink Without a Name (aka the Harrington) and the Gypsy. Vodka is performing the same way in all of these drinks. So why not use its famous attribute to create a drink even more out there, a drink that even I would be excited about drinking?

The hardest part is where to start. One of the most effective methods is to pick a classic and start substituting. Playing with a drink that is tried and true is much easier than formulating an entire cocktail from the ether. But which classic? It must be bold, bitter, and primarily stirred. The Don't Give Up the Ship Cocktail instantly came to mind and it seemed perfect considering its boldness and subtlety.  This wonderful little cocktail combines an amaro, a wine-based aperitif, and gin, with a little orange (both sweet and bitter) to round it all out. It starts out big, with the herbal flavors of gin and fernet, but then the orange and wine flavors of the Cointreau and Dubonnet peek out when you aren't paying attention. It seemed a good a place to start as any.

Don't Give Up the Ship

1 1/2 ounce gin
1/2 ounce Dubonnet
1/4 ounce Fernet Branca
1/4 ounce Cointreau
1 dash orange bitters

Stir ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

The most obvious first step was to swap out the gin for vodka. Since I had recently ran out of Dubonnet, I substituted Punt e Mes, another wine-based aperitif that like Dubonnet has more punch that regular sweet vermouths. Actually Punt e Mes is quite bitter, but it is my go-to vermouth these days. Considering that the botanics from the gin were absent and the vermouth's flavor was now amped up, I decided to also use a lighter amaro, the CioCiaro. Its mild sweetness and orange notes also worked as a replacement for the Cointreau, which would have made the drink too sweet. In hindsight, this substitution was probably unnecessary as I am sure the Fernet would have provided an interesting direction as well. After pausing to test this initial combination, it still seemed too sweet. I added a touch of Gran Classico and Angostura bitters to further dry it out. I am pretty pleased with the results.

Vodka Experiment
1 1/2 ounces vodka (Dry Fly)
3/4 ounce Punt e Mes
1/4 ounce Amaro CioCiaro
1 barspoon Gran Classico
2 dashes Angostura bitters
1 dash orange bitters (Regan)

Stir ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

So after almost a month of tinkering, this was what I came up with. The aroma was full of the bright lemon oils that glisten on the surface. The cocktail was very smooth and dry, herbal and bitter, with a touch of orange and spice. My kind of drink. Because the vodka is so subtle, this cocktail came across almost like an aperitif hiding inside a cocktail.

End note: About halfway through the creation process, I discovered Imbibe's cover contest. While it didn't exactly change my thought-process, I did start taking this cocktail a bit more seriously than I had at the beginning of this vodka experiment. I will be submitting this cocktail, since I think it would be perfect in so many ways for the cover. But we shall see if they agree.

Apple Brandy: Newark Cocktail

When Fall arrives and blankets become a staple of my at-home fashion, my tastes turn toward barrel-aged  spirits, though this is by no means a hard and fast rule. This year we here in Seattle were treated to a strange crispness that served as a delightful interruption from our regularly scheduled Autumn full of all things waterlogged. The dry chill and the orange- and yellow-hued leaves (we even got some red ones this year!) reminded me of the many years I spent growing up and living in the Northeast. Perhaps because of this nostalgic impulse, I have been leaning toward dry crisp drinks of late, instead of hearty, bold libations that revolve around whiskey and the rich flavors of cherry and anise or the soothing warmth of spice. In my search for drinks that would attend to my craving, I found myself leaning toward the much overlooked apple brandy, most notably our domestic apple brandy, applejack.

Applejack is a spirit native to the United States and almost as old. In colonial times, apple-based spirits were made in the frozen Northeast from fermented apple cider that had gone through the process of freeze distillation, which was called "jacking." The process entails freezing a solution, such as hard cider or beer, in order to separate the alcohol from the water by taking advantage of their different freezing points. Early settlers would bury their fermented apple cider in the ground for the winter. About the time of the last freeze, they would dig it up and remove the ice, leaving a liquid that was much richer in alcohol. The idea to further distill this "low wine" version of hard cider into apple brandy was just the natural progression of a good idea.

Laird's is the oldest producer of applejack in the county. They have been producing apple brandy in America since 1698. They make several different apple-based spirits, though here in Washington, only the 80-proof applejack is readily available. I have seen their bonded apple brandy in some local bars and some of the better liquor stores. If you can find it, I would highly recommend it. The non-bonded apple brandy contains 35 percent apple distillate that has been blended with neutral grain spirits. The bonded variety is 100 percent apple brandy and, by law, 100 proof. Therefore, the apple flavor is that much more intense, and the higher proof means that the brandy can stand up to stronger ingredients in a cocktail. The non-bonded applejack is completely acceptable, though, and for years it was the only applejack I used. In many cases, it makes only a slight difference, and I have made very tasty Jack Roses, Jersey Sours, or even variations on the Stone Fence with the non-bonded applejack.  Drinks like the Applejack Old-Fashioned and the Marconi Wireless, which place a greater emphasis on the flavor of the spirit, really do shine brighter with the inclusion of the bonded Laird's. Both of Laird's products are relatively inexpensive, around $20, though the bonded will set you back a couple of dollars more.

To satisfy my applejack craving, I chose the Newark Cocktail, another fabulous cocktail that I found on Chuck Taggert's blog. The drink was created by Jim Meehan, bar manager at PDT in NYC, and an all-around heavy hitter in the bartending world. The Newark cocktail, as you may have already guessed, is another in the long line of Manhattan variations named after real estate in and around NYC that have become ubiquitous on cocktail menus.  I am not complaining--many of them are completely delicious and among my favorite style of drink, spirit-forward.

Newark Cocktail

2 ounces applejack
1 ounce sweet vermouth
1/4 ounce maraschino liqueur
2 barspoons Fernet Branca

Stir ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass. Strain in a chilled cocktail glass. No garnish.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Laird's Bonded Applejack, Vya sweet vermouth, and Maraska maraschino liqueur.

The aroma was full of apples though the menthol notes of the Fernet shone through. And as expected, the apple brandy was completely recognizable and even acted as a wonderful foundation for all of the strong flavors in the glass. Initially, I noted a pleasant, mild sweetness, presumably from the maraschino and perhaps the vermouth, before the Fernet struck and my mouth was full of herbal complexity. On subsequent tastes, I noted the dry cider-like flavors becoming more prevalent throughout each sip.  This drink had a wonderful rich mouth feel that contrasted the almost astringent menthol taste concluding each sip—a side effect of the Fernet. As the drink warmed the interplay between the maraschino and Fernet dominated the flavors, but in a really interesting way.  The finish was dry and kind of nutty with hints of cherry. But long after each sip it was the apple flavors that lingered, calling me back for more.

Tequila and Fernet in the Same Glass

Earlier this summer I started exploring the realm of tequila cocktails that include nontraditional ingredients. Since then I have started seeking out other cocktails that push the boundaries of what tequila can do in the glass. Fortunately for my taste buds, many bartenders have been pushing these boundaries as well, giving me a lot to be excited about. But there are only so many cocktails a girl can put away in one night, so this is the first one I have really been able to try since my earlier tequila escapades.

Guadalahara (as adapted)

2 ounces tequila (reposado)
1/2 ounce Fernet Branca
1/2 ounce agave syrup
2 dashes Bitter Truth Xocolatl bitters

Stir the ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Twist a bit of grapefruit over the drink, releasing the oils. Dispose of the spent peel.

Notes on ingredients: I used Milagro tequila, and a 1:1 agave syrup. A chilled double old-fashioned glass would also work well as it is a sort of an amped up tequila old fashioned variation.

When I first saw this recipe the first thing I thought was: Tequila and Fernet . . . in the same glass . . . no fucking way! With my nose hovering over the glass, the smell of agave and the menthol notes of the fernet wafted up to meet me. Though I could see the citrus oils on the top of the liquid, only the faintest hint of grapefruit came through. Perhaps next time—and there will be one—I will use either a bigger peel or some grapefruit bitters. The tequila came through first on the sip, followed by slightly bitter herbal notes of the fernet. The drink was nicely balanced between the two heavy hitters, and the agave syrup provided a mellow sweetness to the drink overall. The bitters were more apparent at the end of the sip, providing a spicy warmth to the other flavors. As the drink warmed up and my mouth became more accustomed to the fernet, the drink took on a rich honey-like cactus flavor.

This crazy combination is the brainchild of Misty Kalkofen, bartender extraordinaire, of the legendary bar Drink in the Fort Point area of Boston. On our recent trip back East, we were fortunate enough to visit Drink and we had an amazing time. And just to note, they do live up to the hype.

Ode to Bitters: Don's Little Bitter

Since we began our ode I have found that is nigh impossible to gather up the courage to indulge oneself in more than one heavily bittered drink in a weekend. This lack of fortitude has led a July full of heavily bittered drinks, tiki drinks--which I only make during the summer, though for the life of me I can't remember why--and any odds and ends that happen to strike my fancy, usually consisting primarily of rum or tequila, or mezcal, or cachaca, or pisco, or gin, or rye--though much less gin or rye than in the winter. I can't say this is a bad thing. But that has meant that this little series of posts that might have occurred over one or two weekends has spanned the entire month. I am not really complaining. We certainly don't get bored.

Don's Little Bitter was created by Don Lee, formerly of PDT (Please Don't Tell), who now works his magic at Momofuku Ssam Bar also in NYC. This drink is a curious little bitter monster with three types of cocktail bitters weighing in at over a quarter ounce, and the addition of the ultimate digestive bitter, Fernet Branca. I first read about this drink in a comment to drinkboston's blogpost about the Trinidad Sour, and then on cocktailvirgin's blog. It would be easy to say that this drink has definitely made the Boston cocktail scene circuit. The simplicity of the drink, despite all the bitters, is what really makes it shine. It is basically a rum sour with a hefty (and I mean fat) dose of bitters. But the taste is not even on the same planet as simple.

Don's Little Bitter

1/4 ounce Peychaud's bitters
1/4 ounce Angostura orange bitters
1/2 ounce Angostura bitters
1/2 ounce Fernet Branca
1/2 ounce lemon juice
1/2 ounce simple syrup
1 ounce Barbancourt 8-year

Shake ingredients in an ice-filled cocktail shaker. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Stare in wonder as it doesn't eat through the glass, though you were worried for a half-second.

Notes on ingredients/method: I do not have any Barbancourt rum at my house at the moment, so I subbed the Matusalem Clasico, as it also has vanilla and oak flavors. Also, the simple syrup in my refridgerator is about 3:2 (sugar to water ratio).

This color of this drink is darker than the two previous heavily bittered concoctions. I imagine that the addition of the Fernet is responsible. It still retains the same opacity and foam. The smell of bitter oranges, cherry and cloves are present in the aroma, as well as the hint of the other bitter elements, though I couldn't pinpoint one over another. When I first tasted this drink instead of analyzing it, I found myself just sitting back in my chair and savoring the complexity. I had no idea where to start, there were so many different flavors bumping around in my mouth. First of all, the drink is very balanced and complex, though also challenging. The clove and cinnamon spices came across first, followed by the menthol notes of the Fernet, which was then followed by the lemony sweet-sour taste of the sour. The spices and herbs of the bitters return at the end, each fighting for recognition. But this understates the complexity of this drink: no sip was exactly the same. Different flavors came through as I drank. Tracy detected a woodsy flavor, like that of bark, and I quite agreed--a possible note of the aromatic Angostura. As the drink warmed up, it changed again. The sweet-sour flavors started to dominate more and the bitters receded a bit, acting like an accompaniment. I believe that this is because as my mouth became more and more accustomed to the bitters, the citrus flavors started to become more apparent. Throughout the experience, the flavors of the Angostura and the Fernet lingered after each sip. This drink was another heavily bittered home run.

Interlude

Sometimes when the rain is coming down and the temperatures outside can't find their way out of the fifties, only certain cocktails seem appealing. Here in Seattle, that kind of weather is an inevitable part of spring. It's funny how the weather can so affect one's cravings. When the sun is shining, even if it is still only in the fifties, give me a bright sour, or something with grapefruit juice and color, or muddled basil. But with the rain and wind, I crave the warmth that only a nice boozy tipple with lots of backbone and flavor can provide. This is a job for whiskey. On such a Saturday, I was searching my favorite cocktail blogs looking for inspiration and came across this drink, the DuBoudreau, on Jamie Boudreau's blog. The drink was origianlly created by Jim Meehan of PDT in NYC. I had the Toronto Cocktail in the back of my head, and I am not completely sure why I didn't just make that delightful drink.  In any case, this drink spoke to me and I guess I just had a hankering for Fernet Branca. Alas, I have no regrets.

DuBoudreau Cocktail

2 ounces rye (Rittenhouse bonded)

3/4 ounce Dubonnet

1/4 ounce Fernet Branca

1/4 ounce St. Germain

Stir ingredients in an ice-filled glass.

Strain into a chilled cocktail glass
Garnish with a lemon twist

The nose is dominated by the distinct, sharp herbal aroma of the Fernet. The lemon oils are present as well, but they seem to be acting as a sidekick. The drink opened with the distinct taste of rye mingling with the lemon oils on the surface. The Dubonnet and St. Germain mellow out the more robust flavors and add a touch of sweetness and a bright herbal complexity to the drink. The finish is long and pleasant with the combination of the spiciness of the rye and the mint and menthol flavors of the Fernet. This drink is complex, balanced, and very drinkable, which is a feat considering the powerful elements at play. The Fernet is tempered, the rye is mellowed, and the St. Germain's sweetness is kept in check. The result is a minty, refreshing drink that is reminiscent of a Toronto or a Manhattan but still very much an individual creation that can stand on its own.