[Apologies for the long absence. Work has been kicking my ass lately, and after a few weeks it becomes hard to work up the blogging momentum. Anyway, I’m back now. ]

Ah, Paris! One of the world’s most legendary cities, along with New York and London, and definitely the most picturesque of the three. Millions of people flock there every year to visit famous monuments, take long walks along the Seine during a warm afternoon and then move on to one of its many bistros or even one of its mythical drinking establishments for dinner and a couple of drinks.

However, it’s not always summer in Paris, and the winter can be harsh. So harsh, in fact, that the quintessentially wintry Sidecar is a Parisian creation.

Hailing from the 1920s, when prohibition still held the U.S. in its claws, this mix of brandy, triple sec and lemon juice was reputedly created at either Harry’s New York Bar or at the Paris Ritz, both great old establishments. A regular customer, the story goes, walked in one evening chilled to the bone due to foolishly mixing a Paris winter night and a ride in a motorbike. Apparently, this was the first thing the bartender came up with, and he named it Sidecar after the customer’s vehicle of choice.

Whether this is true or not, it’s really a great drink and deservedly one of the classics.

Recipe:

1 1/2 oz. Brandy
1 oz. Cointreau
1/2 oz. Lemon juice

Shake and strain into a sugar-rimmed cocktail glass.

Notes:

This recipe allows for some experimentation with the ratios given. I’ve given you the 3-2-1 (3 parts brandy - 2 parts Cointreau - 1 part lemon juice) recipe in Gary Regan’s Joy of Mixology, because it’s the one I’ve been using lately, but other common ratios are 2-1-1 and 4-2-1. I find this version keeps the sourness of the drink under control, and the flavours are quite neatly balanced, but your tastes may vary.

If you can’t be bothered with the sugar rim, you can add a quarter-ounce or so of simple syrup to the mix. It’s not quite the same, but it works well.

Rating:

- I hate the winter, but one or two of these can make a cold day bearable.

It’s a scene that has played out countless times, in many a cocktail enthusiast’s house. You, as the host, try to find the ideal drink for each guest but somebody is being difficult:

Gracious Host: So, can I mix you something?

Guest: Well, I don’t know. Can you make me something nice?

GH: How about a Margarita? They’re fairly popular.

Guest: Oh no, that’s much too strong for me. Can you make something milder?

GH: Hmm, a Mojito? They’re all the rage you know.

Guest: I tried that once, but I didn’t like the taste of the rum in it. What else have you got?

GH: (without much hope) A Cosmopolitan? That has vodka in it, so the taste shouldn’t bother you.

Guest: Vodka? I tried that once and it was horrible! I don’t know, if you can’t fix anything nice, I’ll just have a Coke.

GH: (pride hurt) Well, do you like any alcoholic drinks at all?

Guest: Actually I never drink, only some Bailey’s now and again.

GH: (Eyes light up) Ah, in that case I have just the thing!

Gracious Host exits toward BAR.

Recipe:

1 oz. Brandy
1 oz. Créme de Cacao
1 oz. Heavy Cream

Shake very well with plenty of ice and serve in a cocktail glass. Sprinkle freshly-grated nutmeg on top and serve.

Notes:

Kind of like one of these pre-made cream liqueurs brought to life, using real fresh cream and good brandy, and not a preservative in sight. Whenever someone says they like Bailey’s, I mix one of these up instead. I haven’t had any complaints yet.

Rating:

- Rich, creamy goodness.

After a good meal, it’s always nice to relax with a snifter of brandy along with your coffee. It’s something I learned from watching my father and, even though I was hesitant during my younger years, it’s become a moment I look forward to after a weekend lunch or a nice dinner. For me, brandy is the sipping spirit – better than whisk(e)y or rum, which I prefer before eating.

The whole experience is great. Just take a big snifter, Fill it with hot water in order to warm the glass while you fetch the bottle of brandy, discard the water and pour in a generous measure. Warm the brandy by nesting the glass in your palm and swirling the liquid gently. Stick your nose in and feel the tingling while you take in the aroma. Take a sip and feel the flavors on your taste buds – It’s all great.

The only downside is that it can get a little, well, monotonous after a while. There are many people who enjoy their standard drink as part of their regular routine, but if I was one of those people, I probably wouldn’t be a blog about pretty much every kind of drink I can get my hands on.

How can you beat this boredom? Well, for starters, there are a few different kinds of brandy, even without going into brands. Sherry, Cognac, Armagnac and others make exploring all options a lengthy endeavour. Unfortunately, cost can also be a factor, and drinking brandy after a meal hasn’t become a cliché of the wealthy without reason. I think the most expensive bottle of alcohol I’ve ever seen was by Hennessy.

Another option is to spice up your brandy somehow, and for this I recently found the B&B. The name is just the initials of its ingredients, Brandy and Bénédictine. The combination is surprising because it manages to use the potent fragrance of the brandy and use it as a vehicle to push the herbal notes of the Bénédictine into your nose at the same time. I find it works very well, and will be having at least a couple more before I get bored with it…

Recipe:

1 oz. Brandy
1 oz. Bénédictine

Pour into a brandy snifter and serve.

Notes:

The original recipe I found lists building this drink on ice as a possibility, but I don’t recommend it. If you can take the booze straight at room temperature, then that’s how you’ll enjoy it the most.

You’ll really want to use the snifter in order to get the whole aroma thing going. Getting a nose-full of the mixture is definitely one of the highlights of this drink.

Rating:

- I really wasn’t expecting to like it this much.

The Japanese Cocktail was one of the first drinks I read about on Drinkboy when I started getting beyond Rum ‘n’ Cokes and Long Island Iced Teas. Before I had even seen the recipe, my head was brimming with ideas. Would it use sake? Soy sauce instead of bitters? Maybe it had a piece of raw fish floating in it as garnish. Perhaps you had to drink it barefoot and sitting cross-legged on the ground to get the full taste of the experience.

The truth was far more mundane. As the page loaded I saw three simple ingredients, one of which I had never even heard of before. The mystery ingredient, Orgeat syrup, revealed itself to be unobtainable in my part of the world, so I just clicked on the back button and moved on to something else.

The name stuck in my mind, though, and every now and then I’d see references to it, look it up, see I still didn’t have any Orgeat, and again mix up something else. Until today, when I came across a mention of it as well as a pointer to a post by Robert Hess over at The Spirit World where he goes over the Japanese Cocktail in his usual authoritative style. After the usual click through to remind myself of the ingredients, I realized that it was finally possible to mix one up.

After a summer of basically drinking light citrus-based drinks, I wasn’t too sure how well a classical-style cocktail would go down. I needn’t have worried, the Japanese Cocktail is quite refreshing for a drink that is basically brandy. What really surprised me was how well balanced it is, and how tasty such a simple drink can get. I have to admit, Orgeat is quickly becoming a favourite ingredient of mine.

The link above outlines what little is known about the Japanese Cocktail’s history. Basically, not much. It is one of the cocktails included in Jerry Thomas‘ classic Bartender’s Guide (or How to Mix Drinks). Some theorize that it was created by Jerry Thomas himself in honour of a delegation of Japanese dignitaries that visited the US at some point, but nothing is known for sure.

Here’s how to make one.

Recipe:

2 oz. Brandy
1/2 oz. Sirop d’Orgeat
2 dashes Angostura Bitters

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

Notes:

A masterfully balanced drink, one of the best I’ve had in a long time. The Orgeat brings the drink to life, without overpowering the flavour of the brandy. You don’t want to skip the garnish in this one, and should make sure to twist the lemon on top of the glass — as opposed to using a pre-made twist — so all the essential oils get sprayed onto the surface of the drink. This adds an additional dimension.

I was expecting a serious drink, but this one is lots of fun.

Rating:

- Better than sake with a piece of fish in it!

I’m on a bit of a Beachbum Berry run here, since acquiring a batch of his books. You’ll have to forgive me, and rest assured I will stop before I get to plagiarism.

Today I bring the Fog Cutter, another Tiki standard from Victor ‘Trader Vic‘ Bergeron. In his Grog Log, the Bum quotes Trader Vic as saying: “Fog Cutter, hell. After two of these you won’t even see the stuff,” and there’s no doubt that it’s a potent mix. Two ounces of rum in a cocktail can already be considered a generous serving. If on top of that you add another ounce and a half of hooch, you get something pretty explosive. And I haven’t counted the float yet.

There were a few reasons for trying this one out. Firstly, it’s a classic in its realm. Also I had all the ingredients, which is pretty rare for most of the Bum’s recipes. Well, with one exception, but I’ll get to that. This includes my latest toy, Orgeat syrup.

The rum mentioned in the book is light Puerto Rican rum, which is a euphemism for Bacardi Carta Blanca. I always substitute a decent rum instead of that particular one, and it’s usually Havana Club Añejo 3 Años. The spicy notes add character to any drink, and it’s probably the most historically correct anyway. There is no note in the book of when the drink was created, but the Bacardi that all these Tiki legends used was made in Cuba in the same distillery and using the same recipe as the current Havana Club. Even if the drink wasn’t created prior to the Cuba embargo, I reckon Trader Vic knew exactly what he was aiming for when he used Bacardi, and this was probably it.

My missing ingredient was sweet sherry, since I usually keep some of that around in the winter. The summer in Spain calls for the dry Fino or Manzanilla varieties of Sherry. I had a reasonable substitute, though, in Málaga Virgen, a sweet fortified wine made from Pedro Ximenez grapes. These grapes are used at least in part in most sweet sherries, and although the wine is missing some of the character of being fortified with sherry brandy, it’s pretty similar.

It wasn’t much of a big deal anyway, because I used sherry brandy in the drink, whereas most people would probably use something from France. So all the elements ended up there, even if the components were a little different.

By the way, have you noticed the photo in this post? I figured that it would be a good idea to start doing that with this new design, you know, to spruce things up. If by sprucing up I mean highlighting my failures, of course.

First of all, you may have noticed I’m not exactly Rick from Kaiser Penguin when it comes to taking pictures of drinks. I hope to improve, but until then you’re stuck with my experiments. Second of all, you see that brown sludge at the bottom of the glass? That’s the float. Yeah, I know, let’s pretend it didn’t happen. And third of all, even though I tried to follow Jeffrey Morgenthaler’s instructions to the letter, my orange twist sucks.

But whatever, I’ll give you the recipe and you can try and do better.

Recipe:

2 oz. Lemon juice
1 oz. Orange juice
1/2 oz. Orgeat Syrup
1 oz. light Rum
1 oz. Brandy
1/2 oz. Gin
1/2 oz. sweet Sherry

Shake everything — except sherry — with ice cubes. Pour into tall tiki mug and add more ice cubes to fill. Float sherry on top of drink.

Notes:

The first time I made the Fog Cutter I skipped the float altogether, and only included it the second time for completeness and the photograph. That didn’t work out too well, and I ended up mixing the float with the rest of the drink, which wasn’t too great.

I’m left without knowing what it’s like made exactly right, but I’ll probably be skipping the float the next times I make it. The cocktail is strong enough without it anyway, and the tartness just right.

Rating:

- A good drink, but too strong to enter my regular rotation.

On a quiet summer afternoon, there is nothing better than a refreshing, unpretentious drink to cool body and mind. The Horse’s Neck is definitely one of these. Simple to make, it also has that little bit extra flavour-wise that makes an interesting drink.

In it’s essence, the Horse’s Neck is just a normal long drink — booze and mixer. However, there are a couple of unusual features. For starters, it calls for brandy, a spirit that is usually taken straight. There is a good reason for this, since the nuances of brandy are usually lost if mixed with something as intense as Coke.

However, we’ll be mixing the brandy with ginger ale, a much gentler mixer generally. Note that using a strong ginger beer would probably ruin the drink altogether, the weak Schweppes-like stuff is what we’re after here.

Finally, the Horse’s Neck calls for a dash or two of Angostura bitters. The bitters make this drink, enhancing and combining with the brandy like a pinch of salt can make or break a meal. Removing the bitters makes this just another mixed drink, and using rum or bourbon instead of brandy just isn’t the same.

Recipe:

2 oz. Brandy
1 or 2 dashes Angostura bitters
fill with Ginger Ale

Build in the order given in a tall glass over plenty of ice.

Notes:

I always use spanish brandy. If I’m looking for a French Cognac-like brandy, I’ll use one of the bottlings from the Catalunya region in north-east Spain. However, I usually use sherry brandy, from the southern province of Cádiz, and this drink is no exception. I find that the additional sherry flavours work very well.

Also, I like to be liberal with the bitters, but your personal preference may differ…

Rating:

- One of my summer favourites.