Barrel-Aging Cocktails: El Presidente

Barrel-aged cocktails seem to be everywhere. It is hard to imagine a back bar without a small one- or two-liter barrel perched on some out of the way corner or shelf. As more and more bartenders become barrel-obsessed, menus have expanded with the results of their experiments. But this trend that has so effected so many is quite understandable. My attention and interest were greatly captivated when I first read about Tony Conigliaro's and Jeffrey Morgenthaler's experiments aging cocktails. And while it is true that I was never all that interested in barrel-aging spirits myself until I did it, the idea of barrel-aging a cocktail has fascinated me for years.

With my seasoned barrel recently empty, and two wonderfully unique barrel-aged spirits on my shelf, it was finally time to try my hand at barrel-aging a cocktail. But which one?To me this choice was obvious. Years ago while at Clyde Common in Portland, Oregon, I was lucky enough to taste two of Jeffrey Morgenthaler's barrel-aged beauties: a Negroni and an El Presidente. And while the Negroni was superb, I could never forget the sublime taste of the El Presidente. As the choice seemed clear, then came the hard part--what recipe do I use. Which El Presidente had captured my heart?

The first El Presidente I ever tasted predates that outing to Portland. In fact, it must have been close to five years ago when I first concocted a drink with this name according to the recipe in the Art of the Bar. I remember enjoying it very much, but my memories stop there. Absent is that Wow factor that makes a cocktail stand out over time. As my interest in classic cocktails grew, I discovered that this version was less like an El Presidente and much more akin to the Palmetto, another rum and sweet vermouth cocktail that also happends to be a favorite. Essentially a rum Manhattan, the Palmetto can be traced at least to 1912, where it was included in an addendum to Cocktail Bill Boothby's The World's Drinks and How to Mix Them, originally published in 1908. Though the Hollinger/Schwartz version swaps Peychaud's for Angostura and uses proportions designed for more modern palates, the recipes are incredibly similar. 

El Presidente (Holllinger/Schwartz, Art of the Bar)

2 ounces Ron Pampero Anniversario rum
1/2 ounce Carpano Antica sweet vermouth
3 dashes Peychaud's bitters

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

But this is was not the El Presidente in the Clyde Common barrel that so affected me. That cocktail had a lightness and delicacy that sweet vermouth would have undermined. My search continued. What I discovered was a cocktail created in Cuba that gained popularity during Prohibition when many thirsty Americans flocked there. Though its specific origin is oft disputed, this is perhaps the most widely accepted recipe for the El Presidente.

El Presidente (Wayne Curtis, LOST magazine) 

1 1/2 ounces white rum
3/4 ounce dry vermouth
3/4 ounce orange curacao
1/2 teaspoon grenadine

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

Sadly, this recipe has never really worked for me. Something about the way the rum clashes against the dry vermouth has always pushed me away instead of drawing me in. Even after playing around with the proportions or substituting a more flavorful aged rum, the El Presidente has always remained a tough sell. That is, until I read the September/October 2011 issue of Imbibe magazine.

David Wondrich, cocktail historian extraordinaire, in his monthly column often discusses the origins of classic cocktail, and sometimes exceptionally obscure ones. He points out that cocktails that are truly indisputably classic "it has to have some kind of history, it has to have achieved lasting popularity or fame, and it has to taste great." His point is valid. A cocktail that deserves resurrection should stand out, it should transcend its time or place. Sure, ingredients may need to be fudged, or its proportions reevaluated, but without that certain something, why even bother? In his article on the El Presidente, Wondrich reveals a recipe that specifically calls for vermouth from Chambery, France. While French vermouth is often interpreted as meaning the dry style that is more common, there is a demi-sec white vermouth that actually hails from Chambery, Dolin blanc. Even more telling is the fact that Chambery was at that time widely known for this style of aperitif. If the substitution is made, the El Presidente is transformed from something easily forgettable into a well-balanced, delicious concoction.

One night while preparing to make a sweet white vermouth El Presidente, I noticed that I was dangerously low on Dolin blanc. A quick tour of the fortified wine section of my refrigerator revealed a bottle of Cocchi Americano. Thus, a night spent curled up with a new favorite quickly turned into an opportunity for an experiment. Sweet and light, with hints of orange and a twinge of bitterness, the Cocchi seemed to match the direction of the cocktail in theory. The resulting cocktail was wonderful and it is now my house El Presidente variation.

El Presidente (Randall house version)

1 1/2 ounces white rum
1 1/2 ounces Cocchi Americano
1 bar spoon curacao
1/2 bar spoon grenadine

Combine ingredients in an ice-filled mixing glass. Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Twist an orange peel over the drink and discard.

Notes on Ingredients: I used Appleton white rum, Cointreau, and a homemade grenadine.

While I may never know the exact recipe of the El Presidente that Jeffrey Morgenthaler uses in his barrel, I always knew that it would be my first choice. Since I acquired a barrel shortly after discovering the sweet white vermouth El Presidente, it seemed obvious to use that recipe. In fact, my spirit of choice for the barrel-seasoning process was greatly informed by the ingredients in the El Presidente. If barrel-aging cocktails is going to be on the menu, it seems only natural to preplan your seasoning to further enhance the cocktail later on. And what results they were!

After six weeks in the barrel, the normal light, rich slightly fruity notes had deepened. Vanilla notes and the easily distinguishable taste of oak mingled with the lightly funky barrel-aged Wray and Nephew to added an additional layer of depth and interest. As the flavors evolved and transformed, the Cocchi seemed to stand out more and drive the flavor profile, though not dominate it. Indeed this barrel-aged El Presidente turned out better than I could have imagined.

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.