Champagne Cocktail

As much as I love a good cocktail, there is something about the simple elegance of a glass of champagne to start a meal. The champagne cocktail is the perfect compromise, you may never be as suave and debonair as Rick Blaine, but this is a good start.

Champagne cocktails of various types have appeared in publications going back as far as the 1860s.  Mark Twain’s travelogue “The Innocents Abroad,” published in 1869, mentions one.  That's really all the pertinent background for this one, because we all know nobody is here for a history lesson.

This is a pretty standard recipe that I find starts an evening off in the right direction.  Begin by placing a sugar cube in the bottom of a champagne glass (coupe if you have them, if not a flute works too), douse the cube in angostura bitters, fill the glass with champagne, and garnish with a lemon twist.  I prefer slightly sweeter champagne to better balance the bitters.  When this drink was first created, doux champagnes (over 5% sugar) were quite popular, I would not go this sweet, but a dry (1.7-3.5% sugar) or extra dry (1.2-2% sugar) works well.  Serve this the next time a Moroccan bar owner, gun runner, or Spanish freedom fighter strolls in off the street.

Champagne Cocktail

1 sugar cube

6 dashes bitters

champagne

Place the sugar cube in the bottom of a champagne glass, douse with bitters, fill with champagne, and garnish with a lemon twist.

Sawyer

It has been just shy of two years since the first cocktail appeared here and today I have for you the 50^th!  I will be the first to admit it has taken entirely too long to get here, but we made it.  As you can see by the diagram to the right, I have a propensity towards drinks that call for bitters; today’s delightful little treat not only follows that path, but takes it to an extreme!

The Sawyer is another recent creation and a variation on the Gimlet, but takes the use of bitters over the top by using three varieties and nearly thirty dashes.  The drink was created by bartender Don Lee and named after the daughter of gin-loving chef Wylie Dufrense.  I’m going to use my artistic license again and assume that little Sawyer Dufrense was named after one of the greatest characters in American literature.

This one is simple to make but complex across the tongue, don’t be alarmed by the bounty of bitters, just try it.  In a shaker, start with two ounces of beefeater gin, add one half an ounce of lime juice, one half an ounce of simple syrup, fourteen (yes one-four) dashes of Angostura bitters, seven dashes of Peychaud’s bitters, and seven dashes of orange bitters.  Fill with ice, shake this baby up and strain into a chilled cocktail glass, no garnish necessary.  After your first sip, you’ll be making them for Becky and Huck too.

Sawyer

2 oz gin

½ oz fresh squeezed lime juice

½ oz simple syrup

14 dashes angostura bitters

7 dashes peychaud’s bitters

7 dashes orange bitters

Combine all ingredients in a shaker, strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

The Harvard Cocktail

After a December to remember, I am sure you have all been missing your bi-daily dive into the library of liquor.  Fear not, I have something to tide you over for the next few days.  The Harvard cocktail just invokes images of 1960’s frat boys sitting around in sport coats, smoking cigarettes, and playing poker.  They no doubt needed a cocktail and this one fits the bill just fine.

Dating back to 1895, this drink definitely makes up for what it lacks in popularity with longevity.  It’s true origin, other than the year it first came to print, has been lost to history so we are left to our own imagination.  Having similarities to the Manhattan, it is quite possible that this made its debut on the Harvard campus during a party when a partially inebriated bartender got a little creative with a drink order.  

In a shaker combine one and a half ounces of cognac, three-quarters of an ounce sweet vermouth, one-quarter ounce lemon juice, a teaspoon of grenadine, and three dashes angostura bitters.  Fill with ice and shake.  Pour into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with a lemon twist.  A variation on this drink omits the grenadine and adds an ounce of soda water to the top after straining into the glass.  I prefer the grenadine version, but if there is one time in your life to experiment, it’s college.

Harvard Cocktail

1 ½ oz cognac

¾ oz sweet vermouth

¼ oz fresh squeezed lemon juice

1 tsp grenadine

3 dashes bitters

Mix all ingredients in an ice filled shaker.  Strain into a cocktail glass.  Garnish with a lemon twist.

Seelbach Cocktail

To start the year off right I have a pre-prohibition cocktail to add to your recreational rolodex.  The intriguing combination of champagne, bourbon and bitters brought me to this drink, but the smart flavor is what will keep you coming back.

The legendary Seelbach Hotel of the same name, host to presidents, gangsters, writers, and ne’er-do-wells, is the birthplace of this fine pick-me-up.   According to legend the drink was accidently discovered in 1917 when a bartender topped a manhattan from an overflowing champagne bottle.  The drink gained instant popularity but was lost during prohibition when the hotel stopped serving booze.  Fortunatley for us, the recipe was rediscovered in1995 and put back into circulation.

To make the Seelbach cocktail, start one ounce of bourbon in a mixing glass.  To hold to tradition make sure it is a strong Kentucky bourbon, Woodford Reserve is a good choice.  Add one half ounce Cointreau, seven dashes angostura bitters, and seven dashes peychaud bitters.  Stir with ice until chilled and pour into a chilled champagne flute, top with a dry champagne of your choice, and garnish with an orange twist.  Imagine yourself sitting at the bar with F. Scott Fitzgerald, Woodrow Wilson, and Al Capone sharing a cigar, a fine drink, and a healthy amount of bullshit.

Seelbach Cocktail

1 oz bourbon

½ oz cointreau

7 dashes angostura bitters

7 dashes peychaud’s bitters

champagne

Combine the bourbon, cointreau, and bitters in a mixing glass, fill with ice and stir.  Strain into a chilled champagne flute, fill with champagne and garnish with an orange twist.

The Whiskey Cobra

The next treat I have for your caroling consumption is similar to an Old Fashioned but not as sweet. It grows on your palate as the flavors blend and the oils seep from the orange peel, the last sip will be the best and leave you wanting more.

The Whiskey Cobra is another recent revelation originating in 2007at the Cambon Bar. The Cambon Bar resides near the back door of the Ritz in Paris. As mentioned earlier, I spent some time enjoying the cocktails of the Bar Hemingway recently, and Colin Field introduced this drink to me. It is named after the Bell 209/AH-1W Super Cobra attack helicopter.

Start by carefully peeling a mandarin orange so that the peel resembles a cobra. I find it easiest to start by cutting around the end of the orange in a circle, but stopping before finishing the circle and then peeling around the orange to create the body and tail. Place the peel in the glass tail first so that the head protrudes above the age of rim of the glass. Squeeze the juice of the orange into the glass; add four drops of Angostura bitters. Fill the glass half full of bourbon, I suggest Marker's Mark, and stir. Fill the glass with ice and serve with the cobra facing outward.

Whiskey Cobra

3 oz bourbon

4 drops bitters

1 mandarin orange

Peel the orange in the shape of a cobra, place in an empty old fashioned glass tail first. Add the juice of the orange, the bitter and bourbon. Stir well and fill with ice.

The Rob Roy

For my first foray into spirits to keep you in the holiday spirit I have a classic for you, the Rob Roy. This Scottish cousin of the Manhattan is here in proxy as the Manhattan has already been covered not once, but twice. The Rob Roy has a deeper flavor than the Manhattan due to the peaty, earthy flavor of scotch, and in fact tastes very different depending on the type and region of the scotch used. I encourage you to experiment excessively to see whether you prefer a blend or single malt.

One would think that a scotch-based cocktail would originate in Scotland, but the Scots would not defile their water of life by mixing it with anything. This drink originated in Manhattan coincidentally, at the Waldorf hotel in 1894. The drink is named after the Scottish folk hero and outlaw of the same name. He was also known as the Scottish Robin Hood.

This drink is simple to make and will appeal to scotch drinkers and Manhattan drinkers alike. I prefer a different ratio from the Manhattan for the Rob Roy though, otherwise the flavor of the scotch overpowers the vermouth. Start with an ice filled shaker and add two ounces of blended scotch, I like Johnnie Walker Red. Add an equal amount of sweet vermouth. Then a dash or two of Peychaud bitters, I think it melds better with the scotch. Shake vigorously and pour into a chilled cocktail glass, garnish with three cherries and serve.

Rob Roy

2 oz blended scotch

2 oz sweet vermouth

2 dashes peychaud bitters

Combine all ingredients in an ice filled shaker.  Strain into an ice-cold cocktail glass.  Garnish with three cherries.

Maple Old Fashioned

For your holiday drinking pleasure I have a nice variation on one of the all time classics. While I am typically against altering the perfection that is an Old Fashioned, the slight hint of maple in this recipe makes it a perfect accompaniment to all of your favorite Thanksgiving dishes. It would probably go great with pancakes and sausage too if you need to fortify yourself for a day of eating and watching football.

The sweetness of the maple syrup can be a little overwhelming so use caution. I start with one-half ounce of pure maple syrup in an ice filled old fashioned glass. Add two ounces of your favorite bourbon; Wild Turkey seems appropriate for the holiday. Jim Beam Red Stag is good too and imparts a hint of cherry flavor. Finish it off with a couple dashes of orange bitters and stir well, making sure the syrup dissolves into the bourbon. You now have the perfect cocktail to toast the brave souls from the Mayflower and the Native American who saved their asses from starving to death.

Maple Old Fashioned

½ oz pure maple syrup

2 oz bourbon

2 dashes orange bitters

Mix all ingredients in an ice filled old fashioned glass, stirring well.

The Manhattan Revisited

In an effort to make up for my recent dereliction of duty, I am coming with one of the best recipes to cross my lips in a very long time. Most would argue that it is a losing proposition to try and improve on one of the all time classics, but this amazing variation comes damn close. Whichever version you prefer the Manhattan is the epitome of a classic and seems most in its element in the cold months of the year; if you can add a roaring fire, a tweed jacket and a pipe, you’ll become my new mascot and poster boy.

A friend of mine told me that locals in Manhattan don’t drink Manhattans, I am still debating the statement, but either way it is where the drink originated. As with many cocktails from the nineteenth century, there are many who claim credit for creating the drink, and many variations on the story. It is safe to say that the drink as we know it originated in the 1860s or 1870s in Manhattan, whether in the Manhattan club or another bar. The history behind this variation is very clear though. The recipe appears in the 1930 holy book of cocktailing, the Savoy Cocktail Book. In a reckless act of pure genius that could only have been pulled off by a Yank serving a bunch of Brits, the ratio of vermouth and whiskey is switched from the more traditional version served on this side of the pond. Add a bit of maraschino and you have Craddock’s take on the Manhattan.

To create this drink start with two ounces of sweet vermouth, my current favorite is Cinzano, in a cocktail pitcher. Add an ounce of good bourbon, Maker’s Mark has not failed me yet in a Manhattan. Add a teaspoon of the syrup from your cocktail cherry jar and two dashes of Angostura bitters. Fill with ice and stir well. Serve in a chilled cocktail glass with three homemade cocktail cherries.

Savoy Manhattan

2 oz sweet vermouth

1 oz bourbon

1 tsp cocktail cherry syrup

2 dashes angostura bitters

Stir all the ingredients in an ice filled cocktail pitcher. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with cherries.

Sazerac

Imagine yourself in pre-Civil War New Orleans; walking down the street you have the sudden urge to wet your whistle. You come upon the Sazerac Coffee House. Similar to its use in Amsterdam today, coffee house was a kind euphemism, except in the mid-1800s the drug of note was alcohol. Once inside you belly up to the 125 foot long bar and one of the dozen or so bartenders would have gladly made you a Sazerac cocktail. A bold cocktail, not for the faint of heart; the intense flavor rivaled only by the difficulty in making it.

The bar’s owner’s, Antoine Amédée Paychaud, had started his life in the Big Easy in the late 1700s as an apothecary, after migrating from the West Indies. In the 1830s, Pharmacie Peychaud’s proprietary cure all, Peychaud’s Bitters, quickly became a very popular ingredient to his late-night patrons. The Sazerac was initially made with an imported cognac named Sazerac de Forge et Fils, hence the name, but overtime the cognac was replaced by locally produced rye whiskey. Also of note is Peychaud served the drink in egg cups known to the French as coquetiers, it is believed that the word cocktail derived from the inability of most Americans to pronounce this word properly. Recognizing that he was onto something, Peychaud opened his “Coffee House” in 1852.

If you want to truly impress your friends while introducing them to a true piece of American history all while getting them highly inebriated, read these instructions carefully, this will quickly become your go-to cocktail for the fall. Start with two old fashioned glasses for each cocktail you wish to make. Pack one full of crushed ice and let it sit. Take the other glass and add ¼ ounce of simple syrup, three dashes of Peychaud’s bitters, and two ounces of rye whiskey. Many recipes call for only 1 ½ ounces, but my good friend David Embury suggests 2 to 2 ½ ounces, and I like his style. I have been using High West’s Rendezvous Rye with favorable results. Next add ice to the glass containing the mixture and stir to chill. Going back to the first glass, empty the crushed ice and add ¼ ounce or so of absinthe and swirl around, coating the glass with the green fairy and dispose of the rest. Strain the contents of the second, whiskey filled, glass into the absinthe glass and garnish with a twist of lemon. Embury suggests serving the cocktail with an ice water chaser, but I say drink it strait.

Sazerac

2 oz rye whiskey

¼ oz simple syrup

3 dashes peychaud’s bitters

¼ oz absinthe

Place the first three ingredients in an empty old fashioned glass, add ice and stir to chill. Pour the absinthe into a second, chilled old fashioned glass, turn to coat the glass, and pour off the excess. Strain the whiskey mixture into the absinthe-coated glass and garnish with a lemon twist.

Angostura Sour

To round out the month I have a truly unique cocktail experience for all of you. As you may have realized I have quite a fondness for bitters, most drinks call for a couple of dashes of bitters, in this one, bitters is the dominant ingredient. As I was making this I was struck by the lack of a well know spirit and was concerned where the prerequisite kick was going to come from until I looked at the bottle of biters and realized that it is actually just about forty-five percent alcohol, slightly higher than the bottle of Plymouth gin I also had on the counter, so my fears were quickly allayed. As I said this is a very unique drink, but not overly bitter as one might assume. It is a drink that allows you to truly taste the herbs and other flavorings in the bitters. On top of the taste the deep red color of the bitters makes for a visually stimulating experience as well.

As far as history goes, the best I could come up with is a reference to an Angostura Fizz in Charles Baker’s, Gentlemen’s Companion from the 1930s, this slight variation has been claimed by a handful of bartenders as their own. I am not nearly as concerned over who actually created it as I am over why I have not tried one before! The actual creator of this drink is a true genius and will be praised by high school kids everywhere when they realize that they can walk into any grocery store and procure all of the ingredients to make this drink without having to show any form of identification.

To make this drink, start with an empty shaker add one egg white (be sure that your eggs are not on the recently recalled list) and ¾ ounce of fresh lime juice. Shake until the egg is frothy. Add 1 ½ ounces of Angostura bitters plus one ounce of simple syrup. Fill the shaker with ice and shake again. Strain into your favorite cocktail glass and prepare for sensory overload.

Angostura Sour

1 ½ oz angostura bitters

1 oz simple syrup

¾ oz fresh lime juice

1 egg white

Shake the egg white and lime juice in a dry cocktail shaker. Add the bitters and simple syrup. Fill with ice, shake and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

The Old Cuban

August has become the month of rum for me and I have a handful of libations for your late summer indulgence. The first of which is the Old Cuban. Think of this as a more sophisticated mojito, a drink fit for a heavily compensated leader of a banana republic.

The true origin of this drink is much less romantic so I prefer to let my imagination wander to simpler times when the shady politicians and unscrupulous businessmen plied their trades with little government intervention and the world was none the wiser. The drink actually originated recently by Audrey Saunders of the Pegu Club in New York, not to be confused with this Pegu Club. It has the complex flavor balance of other vintage cocktails we have sampled and deserves a place among the old classics.

Start with ¾ ounce of fresh lime juice, ¾ ounce of pure cane simple syrup and six small to medium sized mint leaves in a cocktail shaker, muddle. Fill the shaker with ice, add two ounces of an aged dark rum, I like Cruzan. Top it off with a couple dashes of Angostura bitters and shake. Pour the mixture into a chilled cocktail glass and top it off with chilled Champagne, approximately 1 ½ to 2 ounces. For your first sip, close your eyes and imagine yourself as a United Fruit Company executive hopping around Central America on a Pan Am Clipper.

The Old Cuban

¾ oz lime juice

¾ oz pure cane simple syrup

6 mint leaves

2 oz aged dark rum

2 dashes angostura bitters

1 ½ - 2 oz champagne

Muddle lime juice, syrup and mint in a cocktail shaker. Fill with ice; add rum and bitters, shake vigorously. Pour into a cocktail glass and top with champagne.

Suffering Bastard

I have wanted to write about this cocktail for quite a while purely because it has such a great name, but it is also a great drink. I am not sure exactly why, but this cocktail came to mind the morning after my son’s first birthday party. But I realized that the name was the perfect description for the way I felt. I have never used this as a hangover cure, but if you could stomach it, I think it would do wonders for you.

This is another drink with some vague details about the original recipe, even the creator seems to contradict himself, but the history seems to be consistent. This fine drink was born in the 1940s at the Shepheard's Hotel in Cairo Egypt by bartender Joe Scialom. The story goes that it was originally called the Suffering Bar Steward, but was slurred by regular patrons into its current designation. I have always made this drink with bourbon, but in researching another drink I found some variations that call for rum, most of those are poor modern bastardizations. There is some evidence that brandy was used in the original recipe, which would make sense; I doubt bourbon was highly prevalent in Egypt in the 1940s. I turned to Robert Hess, one of my favorite resources to see what he uses; he also uses bourbon so I have stuck to my original recipe.

Do not be scared off by the first two ingredients, it is an interesting combination that works well together. Start with an old fashioned glass full of ice, add an ounce each of bourbon (Maker’s works well here) and gin (Plymouth is my preference), pour in thee ounces of ginger ale, top it off with a dash of Angostura bitters and a wedge of lime. Prepare to silence your doubters with a perfectly executed “don’t question my cocktails” look.

Suffering Bastard

1 oz bourbon

1 oz gin

3 oz ginger ale

dash of bitters

Construct this in an old fashioned glass, pour all ingredients over ice, add a lime wedge and stir.

Rosita

I know that my long hiatus has left many of you longing for the early days of June when new recipes were coming out with some regularity. Well fear not, after a short recess for extensive “research,” I have the first tequila based cocktail to wet your whistle!

While many of the cocktails featured here have been rich in history, this one is a little hard to pin down. While the story does not have the cachet of most, it is a cocktail well worth enjoying. The best I have been able to come up with is it was deduced in the late eighties or early nineties (yes, nineteen, not eighteen) by a bartender/writer. The references I have found are all circular between three cocktail writers. One wrote about it and forgot about it until he read about it from another writer, the first writer then asked a third writer about it who told him the he (the first writer) had written it; or something along those lines, there are too many pronouns in this sentence for even me to follow, so let’s all just agree to move on to the best part, the drink!

I think I may be falling into a rut here as the supporting cast for this drink has become very familiar, in the coming weeks we’ll be breaking out of this shell and delving into brave new worlds. For the time being though, Campari, vermouth and bitters are here to stay. In an old fashioned glass full of ice, start with an ounce and a half of your favorite anejo tequila, I like Patron’s mild flavor for this drink. Add ½ ounce each of sweet vermouth, dry vermouth and Campari. A dash (or two) of Angostura bitters rounds out the ensemble. Stir well and garnish with a lime twist. Turn on your favorite Mariachi music and be prepared to sing along and dance til dawn!

Rosita

1 ½ oz anejo tequila

½ oz campari

½ oz sweet vermouth

½ oz dry vermouth

dash of angostura bitters

Build this cocktail in an ice filled old fashioned glass and garnish with a lime twist.

Clementine Negroni

After a slight detour down Morning Buzz Boulevard, we have returned to our gin crusade with a variation on a truly timeless cocktail. I have always longed to love the Negroni, but have found myself infatuated by it’s Yankee cousin the Boulevardier; don’t let it’s ex-pat nom-de-guerre fool you, it's roots are one hundred percent American. This adaptation, or bastardization depending on whom you ask, adds a new flavor to this already complex drink. A gin connoisseur friend of mine was not a fan when I introduced him to the Negroni, he felt overwhelmed by the Campari. The solution is adding clementine juice, completely changing the taste of this drink, resulting in a balance that is pleasing to even the most discerning palate.

As this is a modern deviation, there is no need to delve deeply into the history of this cocktail, just read on and prepare your taste buds for a flavor explosion. As this is a perfect drink to share with a lady friend on a warm summer’s eve, this recipe is for two, adjust as your company dictates…

Start by placing three peeled clementines (or mandarin oranges, for simpletons like the author) in an over-sized shaker. Add four or five solid dashes of orange bitters and muddle thoroughly. Add two ounces Hendrick’s gin (I find the flavor more complimentary), two ounces Campari, and 1½ ounces of sweet vermouth. Fill shaker with ice and shake vigorously. Divide between two chilled cocktail glasses, garnish with clementine slices. Prepare to be praised excessively.

Clementine Negroni

3 clementines, peeled

5 dashes orange bitters

2 oz hendrick’s gin

2 oz campari

1 ½ oz sweet vermouth

Place clementines and orange bitters into a large shaker, muddles until fruit is pulverized. Add gin, campari and sweet vermouth. Fill with ice and shake vigorously. Divide between two chilled cocktail glasses, garnish with a clementine slice.

Old Fashioned (Well Dressed/Volstead Version)

To finally rectify my greatest crime against cocktail humanity, it is time to put up my “other” Old Fashioned recipe. As I mentioned before, I struggled with this grand predicament, but I came to the conclusion that there is a place for both. This variation is great for summer. The bright colors of the fruit contrast the deep brown of the drink and fit perfectly with seersucker, linen and madras!

It seems that the addition of muddled fruit originates during prohibition when the quality of the whiskey went down drastically and the average speakeasy patron needed something to help mask the god-awful taste of backwoods bourbon. The historical significance alone should give this variation its own place in every bartenders repertoire.

My formula for this is similar to the one I use without fruit. I decrease the amount of simple syrup by half to compensate for the addition of the fruit, and decrease the amount of bourbon slightly since I tend to serve these mid-day and nobody likes to find their guests face down on the croquet pitch with only mad dogs and Englishmen standing about. The steps to build it are much different though. Start with an orange slice, about ¼ inch thick. Peel the fruit from the inside of the slice and place it in the bottom of an old fashioned glass. Take the peel and slice it into two pieces, place these on top of the fruit; add two cherries, two dashes of angostura bitters and muddle. Pour in ½ ounce of simple syrup, an ounce of the bourbon of your choice (I suggest Gentleman Jack), stir well. Fill the glass with ice and add the remaining 1 ½ ounces of bourbon.

The garnish on this drink comes from my oldest and best cocktail companion who will remain nameless to protect his professional reputation. I fell it adds the perfect finishing touch to this drink. In order to comply with rule number two (look to the left of the screen) we need to include a cherry. It pains me greatly to write this as this is the only circumstance where I use them, but the neon red maraschino cherries work best here. You will also need a half an orange slice and a toothpick (I’ve been partial to the little plastic swords since I was a kid). Fold the orange in half around the cherry and stick the sword through to hold it all together, place it flippantly across the top of the drink and the side of the glass. Serve this cocktail with a nod to Utah for being the 36th state to ratify the 21st amendment, repealing the 18th amendment, and ending prohibition!

Old Fashioned

2½ oz bourbon

2 dashes angostura bitters

½ oz simple syrup

1 ½, quarter inch thick orange slices

cherries

Place the fruit from one orange slice into the bottom of an old fashioned glass, slice the peel into two pieces and add it to the glass. Add two cherries, the bitters, and muddle. Pour in the simple syrup, one ounce of bourbon, and stir. Fill the glass with ice and add the remaining bourbon. Garnish with half an orange and a cherry.

The Pegu Club Cocktail

The great gin cocktail quest of 2010 continues with more successes than failures and I have another winner for your drinking enjoyment. The Pegu Club is a fairly simple, easy sipping cocktail, perfect for warm summer nights, the tropics, and while visiting your favorite junta ruled totalitarian state.

This cocktail originated during the 1920s in The Pegu Club in Rangoon. As a far flung outpost of the British Empire, Burma offered few of the creature comforts for which your average Brit yearned, save for a classy gentleman’s club to gather with the boys, enjoy a cocktail, and toast the Queen. The house cocktail spread through the empire and the rest of the world, appearing in Haddocks’s tome, The Savoy Cocktail Book in 1930.

This cocktail is a true crowd pleaser. Men and women, gin lovers and haters. Everyone that I have mixed this for has become an instant fan. It has the perfect combination of sweet, sour and bitter, not to mention it packs a pretty hefty punch!

The version I prefer uses two types of bitters, some recipes call for only one. While I have found that the taste difference is nearly indiscernible, I like any excuse to use all the bitters that I can. Start with 2 ounces of gin, I like Plymouth in this drink, but any good London dry gin will work. Next add ¾ ounce of Cointreau and ½ ounce of fresh squeezed lime juice. Kaffir limes are the most authentic, but can be difficult to find. Lastly add a couple dashes of orange bitters, a couple dashes of angostura bitters, shake and serve with a lime slice as garnish.

To Queen and Country!

The Pegu Club

2 oz gin

¾ oz cointreau

½ oz fresh lime juice

2 dashes orange bitters
2 dashes angostura bitters

 Add all ingredients to your shaker, fill with ice.  Shake vigorously.  Pour into a chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with a thin slice of lime.

Old Fashioned (No Garbage)

The most glaring omission in my ongoing attempt to educate is perhaps my absolute favorite cocktail, so it has pained me greatly to let it sit idly by and not be recognized as the amazing drink that it is. The reason for my reluctance to add the Old Fashioned to the canonical record stems from my inability to decide whether the fruit belonged in the drink or not. I finally had an epiphany on this matter and am ready to pass on my wisdom (and hedge my bets). I realized that both variants have their place and that there is room in every bar for two Old Fashioned recipes, one made simply without fruit and another with fruit. I am going to start with the first, but will be adding the second in the very near future.

The Old Fashioned is perhaps the most bastardized cocktail I have ever come across. Depending on where you get your recipe you will see soda, sprite, ginger ale and many other preposterous ingredients that I refuse to even reference for fear of aiding in the destruction of one of America’s greatest inventions.

The Old Fashioned originated in the 1880s, at the Pendennis Club in Louisville, Kentucky. More importantly it is considered the first cocktail as defined by the The Balance And Columbia Repository in 1806, as spirits, bitters, water, and sugar.  Following this definition to the word, the Old Fashioned is made up of bourbon, angostura bitters, water and sugar. In lieu of water and sugar separately, I use simple syrup because it makes the drink easier to make and prevents any un-dissolved sugar from sinking to the bottom of the glass.

While many of the drinks highlighted here have many steps and tools involved this one is as simple as it gets. Start with an old fashioned glass filled with ice, add 3 oz. of your favorite bourbon (I like Woodford Reserve for this drink), 2 dashes angostura bitters, and 1 oz. of simple syrup. Stir and serve, that’s it!

This is one of those cocktails that most people have heard of, but few have tried. It can hold its own in any situation as is. If you feel the need for a simple garnish, use an orange twist. You can also use orange bitters to add a slight citrus flavor.

Old Fashioned

3 oz bourbon

2 dashes angostura bitters

1 oz simple syrup

Fill an old fashioned glass with ice.  Add the bourbon, bitters and simple syrup. Stir and serve a piece of cocktail history.

Satan's Whiskers

I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that gin is an area of cocktail knowledge where I am severely lacking for recipes that I really enjoy. I partially blame my devotion to bourbon for this deficiency; I also blame the fact that I have not taken the time to get past the very basics. To remedy this misfortune, I have committed to trying at least one new gin based cocktail per week for the next eight weeks. I was hoping to find three or four that are suitable for publication; on my first dive into the gin filled pool, I came up with a winner. With a name like Satan’s Whiskers how could I have gone wrong!

The earliest reference I could find to this cocktail is the original Savoy Cocktail Book from 1930. Craddock’s recipe is slightly different from mine; I prefer a little less orange juice and a little more Gran Marnier. I was worried that the orange flavor would overpower the rest of the drink, but the gin and sweet vermouth have a nice presence and provide good balance.

This is a fairly straightforward cocktail to make. Since juicing the orange is the only step that requires any effort that is where I like to start. I tried this using both Plymouth and Hendrick’s gin and preferred the flavor of the Hendrick’s, but with all of the other flavors going on, any decent gin should yield favorable results.

One note of caution, this is one of those drinks that can really sneak up on you!

Satan’s Whiskers

¾ oz gin

¾ oz dry vermouth

¾ oz sweet vermouth

½ oz gran marnier

½ oz orange juice

2 heavy dashes orange bitters

Put all ingredients into an ice filled shaker.  Shake vigorously.  Pour into a chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with cherries and serve.

The Mint Julep

With the run for the roses taking place this weekend, I felt it only appropriate to cover the traditional drink of the derby.  The mint julep is the perfect accompaniment to the most exciting two minutes in sports, but is also just as appropriate at any summer gathering.  In the spirit of full disclosure, I have never been to the derby, but the coverage on the TV is very in depth and I love bourbon!

As with most of the drinks I have featured the number of variations is mind blowing.  I think that everyone will agree a mint julep needs bourbon, mint and sugar, beyond that it comes to individual adaptations. The mint and sugar pose the most options. My particular preference is to use simple syrup and to strain the mint. I also like bitters in mine. The funniest debate about this drink is the ice. There are more theories on the way the ice should be presented in this drink than any other I have ever researched. So to muddy the waters even more, I am inserting an additional option as my choice! The best ice for this drink is the little pebble ice that butchers put into the seafood cases. It is the perfect surface area to melting speed ratio. Sometimes it takes a little finesse to get them to hand over a bag of the stuff, but a little white lie about your grandmothers knee replacement surgery usually helps.

The preparation to this drink is the key between an okay drink and an epic drink. The first step is to put your glasses in the freezer at least an hour prior to serving. Julep cups are the traditional vessel to serve this, but if your bar does not include numerous special purpose silver cups, Collins glasses work just fine. Next is the garnish, rinse sprigs of mint and when almost dry, dust them with powdered sugar.

Now comes the actual construction.  For each drink you intend to make, set an empty old-fashioned glass on the bar and put 1 ½ tablespoons of simple syrup in each. Then drop 12-16 small mint leaves into each glass, add three strong dashes of angostura bitters and muddle together. Pour an ounce or two of bourbon in each glass and stir. To keep with the derby theme, stick with a Kentucky bourbon, I like Maker’s Mark, but Woodford Reserve is the official bourbon of the Kentucky Derby so, at least for this week, that is what I am pouring! Next, pull your frosted glasses out of the freezer and fill halfway with ice.  Strain the mint and syrup mixture into the glass and stir well.  Top the glass off with ice, fill with bourbon, and stir again. Take a garnish spring and cut the stem just below the mint leave, insert into the drink and serve.

Serve these with a couple of cocktail napkins to compensate for the cold and be ready for fast refills. If you have enough glasses, start each round with a fresh glass.  If you make these wearing a seersucker suit or jockey uniform you get extra points!

Mint Julep

¾ oz simple syrup

3 dashes angostura bitters

12-16 mint leaves, plus one sprig

kentucky bourbon

powdered sugar

Place cups in freezer an hour before serving. Rinse and dry mint. Dust garnish with powdered sugar. Add syrup, bitters and mint to mixing glass, muddle.  Stir in 1-2 ounces of bourbon. Fill frozen cups or glasses with ice, pour in mint mixture through strainer, and stir. Top with ice, fill with bourbon, and insert trimmed garnish.

The Perfect Manhattan

The holy grail of my cocktailing career is the perfect Manhattan.  I thought it only appropriate to start the rebirth of this blog with this exceptional concoction.  The Manhattan is a true classic: simple, elegant and potent.  Thurber’s spot on quote about Martini’s is just as applicable here.

With only three ingredients (two if you omit the bitters), the perfect recipe comes down to the brands and the ratio of whiskey to vermouth.  For many years I stuck with a three to one ratio, but lately I have felt that the vermouth needed a slightly stronger presence, so I have switched to a two to one ratio.  The number of Sweet Vermouths available is relatively limited, making this selection easier.  My current favorite is Martini & Rossi. 

As for whiskey there are countless options here, bourbon, rye, Tennessee whiskey and Canadian whisky.  I have tried many variants.  Rye did not agree with me and the Canadian was a little too sweet. I was a die hard Maker’s Mark proponent but recently tried Gentleman Jack and have given it a slight edge.  Rounded out with a strong dash of angostura bitters and three cherries you have the perfect flavor balance.

Serve this devilishly good mixture in a chilled cocktail glass and enjoy every sip!

Manhattan

3 oz bourbon

1 ½ oz sweet vermouth

dash of angostura bitters

Combine everything in a cocktail shaker or pitcher with ice and mix.  Serve in a chilled cocktail glass with three cherries.