Anything You Can Do . . . : Gin and Rum in the Stork Club Cocktail

Recently I was brainstorming drinks for an informal dinner party, and the Stork Club Cocktail popped into my head. If you haven't tried it, the Stork Club is just about one of the easiest drinking panty droppers from the 1930s. I like to trot out this cocktail every now and again when I am looking for an uncomplicated, unpretentious start to a informal summer's eve. The combination of gin and orange juice give it away as a concoction created during the days of sub par gin and the uninspired ways to cover up the telltale flavor. Of course, it's very name points to its origins--the Stork Club was one of New York City's more famous speakeasies during Prohibition and was infamous for its rich and famous clientele for many years after. Refreshing, sweet and yet not so sweet, the Stork Club is an unassuming, uncomplicated sour, a lazy orange-laden Pegu Club. In the late days of spring, when the temperatures seem to first broach the seventies, and it's just warm enough to be noticeable, the Stork Club never fails to satisfy.

Stork Club Cocktail (from Lucius Beebe's Stork Club Cocktails (1946))

dash of lime juice (1/4 ounce)
juice of half orange (1 1/2 ounces)
dash of triple sec (1/4 ounce)
1 1/2 ounces gin
dash of angostura bitters (2 dashes)

Shake well and strain in chilled 4 ounce glass.

But this time was different. Almost as soon as I thought of the Stork Club, I was already transforming it into something else. Because the drink reads like an overly simple tiki drink--a blend of juices, bitters, and a liqueur on top of a versatile base--rum was just a natural impulse. But in general this cocktail is crying out for variations. The lime juice invigorates the orange juice. The bitters add necessary depth. Of course, the liqueur can easily be modified--orange juice with a hint of lime is incredibly forgiving. Whether apricot liqueur or grapefruit, peach liqueur or even something a bit more herbal like Strega, there is ample room for experimentation.

What struck me was how easy the substitution really was, both mentally and in terms of taste. It was quite a no-brainer. And while many cocktails allow for rum to stand in for gin to wonderful effect, the most notorious being the Bee's Knees (gin) and the Honeysuckle (light rum) or Honey Bee (Jamaican rum), I hadn't really paid that much attention before. Of course, an argument could be made based on drink families--a sour, whether it has gin, rum, or even whiskey, is still delicious. But whiskey does not work as a stand-in for gin in all citrus manifestations. The chemical reactions inherent to barrel-aging make sure of this. And while white spirits in general will usually work as a substitute in a pinch--some play better than others. White rum will generally work in any gin drink that includes citrus, and many that don't; white dog and tequila, each with its own funkier flavors, are harder to meld. The Stork Club is the perfect example of a citrus cocktail where both rum and gin work really well, and the substitution doesn't make the drink step too far out of its original packaging.

West 58th Street 

1 1/2 ounces white rum
1 ounce orange juice
1/4 ounce lime juice
1/4 ounce apricot liqueur
1 dash Angostura bitters

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

Notes on Ingredients: I used Chairman's Reserve white rum, Bitter Truth Apricot liqueur and Angostura bitters.

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.

Ice Cube Tower and Pineapple Sticks--It Must Be a Charles Baker Drink

Sometimes I wonder how much Charles Baker really knew about cocktails. Sure, he drank big and a lot. But quantity does not magically equate to quality. A lifetime of poor drinking choices does not necessarily point toward someone becoming a sophisticated drinker. In my most romantic moments, I like to imagine Mr. Baker a discerning drinker, a sort of proto cocktail enthusiast, who tried everything in spite of, well, what trying everything entails. Perhaps he even understood that sometimes the value of a cocktail experiment is not always expressed in the final expression of flavors but instead in the eye-opening experience of moving away from what is mainstream or even expected. Sometimes a cocktail is a journey and the destination is just one of the unknowns, like the weather.

Treading in Mr. Baker's footsteps is not without its failures or surprises. This tends to create suspense, or at least hesitation. More often than not a simple glance at the list of ingredients stirs an involuntary shudder. The champagne cocktails have been more of a safe haven, though none of them have been a walk in the park, either. The flavors in this last one are not particularly challenging, but the Champagne Cocktail No. III does not come without obstacles:

"Choose a large tapering champagne glass; inside of this build a tower of 4 ice cubes, crown it with a lump of sugar saturated with 4 dashes of orange bitters. Against the sides of the glass lean 2 sticks of ripe fresh pineapple, encircle the tower with a spiral of green lime peel, and fill with well chilled champagne, medium dry, and not too acid in type. Now as the crowning gesture carefully float on 1 tbsp of cointreau"

Even written on the page, the Jockey Club Cocktail blows right past difficult straight to impossible--at least in terms of my skill set. The idea of making a tower of ice cubes in a glass topped with a bitters-soaked sugar cube seems challenging enough without considering the pineapple spears. Don't even get me started on the lime twist.

The first problem I discovered rather quickly--I do not have tapering champagne glasses, only flutes and coupes. At first, this seemed unimportant--glassware is usually the least painful substitution. However, my decision to proceed instantly proved fatal. While a coupe wouldn't work because of its demure height, a champagne flute is equally flawed because of its narrow opening. While it was technically possible to stack four small ice cubes with the help of a bar spoon, as soon as I inserted one stick of pineapple, the entire structure immediately collapsed. Trying to get the lime twist to wrap around the flimsy "structure" required more patience than I could muster, and perhaps tweezers.

The folly of attempting to balance a slowly disintegrating sugar cube atop my column was instantly clear, so I opted for simple syrup and bitters instead. But as soon as I poured in the syrup, the ice structure collapsed. I understood then that this was inevitable. Ice floats. Only then did  I understand how unimportant that tower really was--the ice was simply a vehicle for creating the pineapple and lime garnish. Though it was a eureka moment, I was less than amused. Had I grasped this fact earlier, I would have spent less time on the ice and more time positioning the lime twist. Alas, with my ice melting, I added the bitters, champagne and float. I only hoped that the flavors would be blind to my poor craftsmanship.

"Jockey Club Champagne Cocktail" (as adapted)

4 small square ice cubes
2 pineapple spears
1 lime twist
1 teaspoon simple syrup
4 dashes orange bitters
6 oz champage (demi-sec)
1/2 oz Cointreau

Build an ice-cube column flanked by pineapple spears.* Curl a long lime twist around the structure.** Add syrup, bitters, and then champagne. Carefully float Cointreau.

Notes on Ingredients:  I used a 1:1 simple syrup, Regan's orange bitters, Graham Beck demi-sec sparkling wine. Also I substituted Clement Creole Shrub for the Cointreau on a lark, thinking the rum base would be a nice addition in the fruity environment.

* Good luck. Just remember that creating the garnish is the point, not where the ice ends up.
**Using a champagne glass with a larger opening will be key here unless you really want to use tweezers. Also, length may come in handy--I would recommend a crusta-style treatment.

Despite the procedural missteps, this champagne cocktail did turn out quite nicely. The demi-sec champagne wasn't as sweet as I'd feared and in general seemed to contribute a pleasant fruitiness. The pineapple's flavor became more significant over time, as expected. I can't help but wonder if substituting pineapple syrup for the sugar cube-pineapple spear business would yield similar results. Perhaps then the pineapple flavor would prove too intense, but boy would it be easier. Well, something to consider for future masochism.