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.

Fall Cocktails: Pushing Past Brown, Bitter, and Stirred

As the first rains of the season created a staccato on my windows and the pavement outside, I knew that fall had officially arrived. Though I tried to keep my head buried in the proverbial sand, my taste buds were not so easily fooled. As the weather held off, my own denial seemed to intensify. But the glass never lies. As I bellied up to the bar, more often than not I heard myself utter those three words that seem to coincide with the change in season: brown, bitter and stirred. While I watched varied bartenders collect bottles of amari and bitters, I tried in vain to hold on to the last vestiges of summer. At long last the truth won out--summer had indeed fled and the dark days of pre-winter were here to stay.

For years whiskey defined brown, and thus fall. My entire drink repertoire revolved around Manhattans and anything even mildly related--Brooklyns, Boulevardiers, Rob Roys, even the venerable Seelbach. More recently, though, sweet vermouth and dark, earthy quinquinas usurped this role. Their rich, bold flavors shifted my intense focus from whiskey and allowed me to explore other spirits. Rum Manhattans, tequila negronis, and the Martinez followed. But cravings are not so easily understood. Last year, the flavor of the moment was apple brandy. Over the past month, I have explored even stranger flavor combinations. And while not all of them can be characterized as "brown," or even "bitter," they have all of course been "stirred." I am still me after all.

Tequila and Quinquina

This drink was not created specifically for me. I was sitting in front of the well on an average Wednesday or Thursday, watching Erik craft drinks at the Zig Zag. Though my drink was well-crafted and delicious, this other concoction, which had been made for an entirely different person, stole my attentions. With each new ingredient introduced into the mixing glass, my curiosity was piqued. Before long, I had pulled out a scrap of paper and jotted down my observations as best I could remember them. 

Unnamed Cocktail (inspired by Erik Hakkinen, Zig Zag)

1 3/4 ounces reposado tequila
3/4 ounce Bonal
1/3 ounce Benedictine
1 dash Peychaud's bitters
1/2 dropper Bittermens tiki bitters

Stir ingredients with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Note on Ingredients:  I used Milagro reposado tequila.

When (re-)creating this cocktail, there was one obvious obstacle--I had never even tasted it. I didn't even know the magic words that had inspired its creation. I started with the golden ratio: 1 1/2 ounces spirit, 3/4 ounces vermouth (or quinquina), 1/4 ounce liqueur, 1 dash bitters. After a bit of fine-tuning, the assorted ingredients finally came together. Though I am sure this cocktail only barely resembles Erik's original, the intersection of flavors is well worth exploring. I discovered this drink while battling a bit of palate ennui. But this cocktail, with its unexpected depth and challenging flavors--the unusual combination of tequila and Benedictine alongside the earthy Bonal certainly helped revive my interest.

Mescal and Chartreuse

I discovered this drink during Sambar's last summer. Customers lined the bar, filling every table both inside and on the patio, while others stood anywhere they could, awaiting one last tipple at one of Seattle's most celebrated cocktail bars. From my seat, I could see the drink tickets piling up--never were there less than ten. I know that I should have been happy with a cocktail from the menu. But a last hurrah is after all an occasion. So, hoping he would forgive me, I forged ahead, requesting a stirred mezcal cocktail. The result was a tipple that expertly combined three of my absolute favorite ingredients. While the flavors could be described as light, nothing is sacrificed in the way of flavor. Its adept combination of smoky and herbal flavors seems perfect for fall days when dark and bitter has become mildly repetitive.

Unnamed Drink (Jay Kuehner, Sambar)

1 1/2 ounces mezcal
3/4 ounce Cocchi Americano
1/2 ounce Green Chartreuse

Stir with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a grapefruit twist.

Notes on Ingredients: I used del Maguey Minero mezcal.  

Notes on Preparation: I was sadly out of grapefruit and substituted Bittermens grapefruit bitters.

Bitter and Bitter

Inevitably, most of the cocktails I consume in the fall still contain some measure of bitterness. This fact, I am sure, surprises no one. In fact there are those who might claim that my tastes run toward the bitter in general. But given that most of the months in Seattle are dark, cold and primarily damp, it seems natural that high proof, full flavor spirits and amari tend to prevail. Then again, I can't imagine a season where I would turn down a cocktail that contains an amaro. Most often this bitter component comprises a fraction of the total ingredients, with the brown doing most of the heavy lifting. But this certainly isn't a rule. 

Unnamed Cocktail (Adam Fortuna, Bar Artusi)

1 1/2 ounces Santa Maria al Monte
3/4 ounce dry vermouth
3/4 ounce Cynar
1 dash aromatic bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Notes in Ingredients: I used Vya Whisper Dry vermouth and Angostura bitters.

This cocktail is surprisingly smooth for a cocktail that combines two different digestive bitters in addition to Angostura. The Santa Maria, perhaps the most mellow of Fernet-style amari, is surely responsible. Surely, using either Luxardo Fernet, Fernet Branca, or even the elusive bitter monster, Fernet Magnoberta, would drastically change the results. With the orange notes of the Santa Maria mingling with the almost grassy artichoke flavors of the Cynar, this drink is perfect for the cold damp temperatures that run rampant in autumnal Seattle. Regardless of season, however, this cocktail gives new meaning to the idea of brown, bitter and stirred.

While most of the drinks I consumed this fall could easily fit into themes of years past, exceptions do exist. And yet I know that my tastes have to expanded exponentially since my recent enchantment with the Martinez. This year, however, my cravings have led me farther from my comfort zone. But what happens when the distinct patterns of the past no longer apply? Perhaps it is time for a new perspective. This fall I have been celebrating surprises found in unlikely places, whether an unexpectedly earthy tequila drink, a smoky, herbal exercise in restraint, or even a bitter bomb. After all, we can celebrate brown bitter and stirred all winter.

Maximillian Affair

During the Fall brown spirits dominate. Bar menus, blogs and magazine don't lie. Those bright citrus-laden drinks are relegated to warmer climates and distant seasons. The barren trees mean heartier fare and that usually means whiskey. I am no stranger to this trend. When it gets cold, you can usually find me curled up in a whiskey barrel (with a blanket, of course) and asking not to be woken until Spring. But something about this year seems different. Maybe its me, maybe my tastes are changing, and I', turning over a new boozy leaf. Maybe it's just that there are so many more barrel-aged options. And perhaps, just maybe I was wrong when cold weather had to mean whiskey or brown spirits (and maybe this sounds familiar, dear reader). And yet another option might be that I have been listening to the call of the smooth herbal complexity of sweet vermouth and those assorted amari. So, recently when I wanted mezcal, I knew I was having a nervous breakdown. The mezcal I have is not brown, because it is not aged in a barrel. Hesitantly, I checked outside—still ohmigod cold and damp, hell it was winter of all things. Thank goodness I can blame sweet vermouth and amari to bail me out of this.

Agave spirits play particularly well with sweet vermouth. Both the earthy, floral notes of tequila and the similarly earthy, yet uniquely smoky flavors of mezcal perfectly complement sweet vermouth's assorted botanics. In general, I was drawn to this cocktail because of that pairing. But more specifically, my interest was sparked by the idea of mezcal with Punt e Mes, a variety of sweet vermouth that is somewhere between sweet vermouth and Campari. It is more bitter and flavorful than most sweet vermouths I have tasted, and because of this, it is my go-to sweet vermouth. I just love how it dries out a bourbon in a Manhattan, or how it riffs off gin in a Fin de Siecle or Hoskins. Any recipe that calls for it by name will rank high with me. This cocktail has been on my to-drink list for a while. Misty Kalkofen of Boston's notorious Drink is the creator of this lovely libation and every Kalkofen original that I have been lucky enough to taste has been an absolute stunner.

Maximilian Affair

1 1/4 ounces mezcal

3/4 ounce St. Germain

1/2 ounce Punt e Mes

1/4 ounce lemon juice

Shake all of the ingredients and strain in to a chilled cocktail glass.

Note on Ingredients: I used the del Maguey Minero mezcal for this drink.

This is one seriously awesome cocktail. The mezcal dominated the aroma with its smokiness and the first sip was heavy with its vegetal, grassy flavors. The St. Germain contributed its mellow fruitiness to the mix, and later even seemed to provide herbal notes as the drink warmed up.  This, in turn, allowed the herbal notes of the Punt E Mes to shine. You might think that this cocktail would be sweet, with the St. Germain at three-quarters of an ounce, but the lemon juice and vermouth balanced it out perfectly. The mezcal was the star of this drink though, and it was unmistakable in every taste. Its lingering smokiness even followed each sip. What a tasty way to end the night.