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.

Balancing Citrus and Vinegar: Enter the Grapefruit Shrub

Every year with spring's arrival, my drinking patterns shift away from the barrel-aged bitter cocktails that highlight the dark winter months. I dust off my cocktail shakers and start shaking Daiquiris and Aviations, Sidecars and Pisco Sours. Then, it is just a matter of time before I am sitting on a patio whiling away the extended evening hours with a citrus-laden tipple. This year my horizons have expanded. Flavored syrups and citrus-based bitters have found their way into my at-home experiments, as well as vinegar, usually in the form of a shrub.

Fruit shrubs are perfect for spring, whether in a long drink, a cocktail, or even a nonalcoholic beverage. The vinegary bite adds unexpected depth to an otherwise ordinary beverage. Classic cocktails can be bumped up with a shrub's savory notes, and just introducing a splash of shrub to some soda water can create a truly refreshing drink that's perfect for summer. The best part is that they are incredibly easy to make, and nearly any fruit can be used. My first attempts were with blackberries, raspberries, and peaches. Last year, I tackled rhubarb. This year as I toured the produce department, I was overwhelmed by the choices. But when a friend threw down the ultimate challenge--citrus shrub--my sense of purpose was renewed.

Historically, there are two types of shrub and they are remarkably dissimilar. One is, at its simplest form, a sort of a bottled sour, usually consisting of some form of citrus, a spirit, and a sweetening agent. The other is a fruit syrup, usually consisting of either currants or berries, additionally flavored and preserved with vinegar. Before the days of refrigeration, people used fruit vinegars to cover the flavor of meat turning bad. But by adding sweetener to these vinegars, shrub was born. The widespread availability of ice signaled the end for shrubs, though many are preserved in many old cocktail guides. Current interest in different historical cooking techniques has vinegar-based shrubs primed for a comeback.

Part of this trend was inevitable as shrubs are just plain delicious. But because achieving balance in a berry shrub is relatively easy and can be accomplished with a very basic recipe, making shrub is simple. Vinegar-based citrus shrubs, though, are more challenging and rare because of the one additional ingredient, citric acid. The way the citric acid is manipulated in conjunction with vinegar's acetic acid can greatly impact the overall balance of the shrub. Too much of either and the result is undrinkable. But with a little care and attention, achieving a complex, tasty batch of citrus shrub is easily within reach.

Basic Recipe for Grapefruit Shrub*

2 good size grapefruits (mine were pink)
sugar [1 3/4 cup]
vinegar [1/2 cup sherry vinegar, 1/4 cup champagne vinegar]
pinch of salt

Procedure

Stage One: Oleo Saccharum

1. Peel the grapefruit avoiding white pith as much as possible.

2. Juice the grapefruit, measure it, and set it aside in the refrigerator. [1 3/4 cup]

3. Place an amount of sugar equal to the juice in a large bowl and add the peels. For 2 cups
of juice, use 2 cups of sugar.

4. Muddle the peels and sugar.

5. Set aside for at least 12 hours at room temperature. Note, I left mine for 2 days, and the flavor and aroma were incredible. The oleo saccharum will create a greater amount of depth than if you use just sugar and juice.

Stage Two: The Syrup

1. Combine the juice and the oleo saccharum.

2. Stir thoroughly until all of the sugar is dissolved.

3. Strain out the peels using a coarse strainer.

4. Add more sugar as needed to taste. This will depend heavily on the tartness of the grapefruit juice. Ideally, the syrup should still be tart but a bit sweeter than if it were completely balanced.

Stage Three: The Vinegar

Though this step really only comprises adding vinegar to your grapefruit syrup, it is the most crucial part. If you simply add all the vinegar at once, you could sacrifice all balance, leaving you with a syrup that is too vinegary.

1. Pick your vinegar. Think about what kind of flavors you want to highlight and what will pair well with your syrup. I used a blend of sherry vinegar and champagne vinegar, though it wasn't planned out ahead of time. Initially I chose sherry vinegar because grapefruit and sherry work well together in cocktails. Shortly after I started adding the vinegar, I noticed that the sherry overpowering the more delicate grapefruit syrup. Champagne vinegar is less strong and allowed the elements to come into balance.

2. Measure. Expect to use about half of your initial juice content. [approx. 3/4 cup vinegar]

3. Pour in a small amount of the vinegar, stir, and taste. This will give you an idea of where the flavors are heading. Starting with just a small amount before adding a bulk of vinegar will also help your palate adjust to what's going on in the shrub. Also, if the resulting flavor isn't what you were envisioning, you can still change vinegars.

4. Add more. Make this addition more substantial, at least half of what you measured [3/8 cup]. I added about half of my measured allotment before realizing it was getting too vinegary. Adding the champagne vinegar was more of a save than a plan. Sometimes this happens. Blend purposefully, take it slow, and pay attention to how each addition affects the overall balance.

5. Keep adding more vinegar until you are satisfied. Your palate will tell you when to stop. Trust it. 

6. Bottle and refrigerate overnight to let flavors marry.

*In order to make things a bit easier, I have added my own specific amounts in brackets to provide an example batch. Also note, by following these basic instructions, any citrus shrub is within reach. I myself made one with Meyer lemons.