For this month’s Mixology Monday, Rick over at Kaiser Penguin has chosen the theme Limit One as a nod to those classic tiki drinks that came with such a warning label attached. Of course, this had less to do with the patron’s concern for the customer’s well-being and more to do with marketing and generating what today we would call “buzz”. I believe the first drink to bear this warning was Don the Beachcomber’s Zombie, but many followed in this vein, normally mixing enormous quantities of different rums together to make drinks that would leave you hung-over if you happened to glance in their direction.

I didn’t want to do a tiki drink, because I reckon that about 80% of this month’s entries will be tiki, so I’m going to talk about the Papa Doble, even though I actually already covered it way back in June last year. If you read that post you’ll notice that I highlight a discrepancy with that recipe, because it contains the same amount of rum as a regular Daiquiri, yet the drink supposedly owes part of its name to being a double.

This Drinkboy forum thread has a convincing explanation in the form of a different recipe to the one I originally posted, this one from a book called Papa Hemingway - A Personal Memoir by A.E. Hotchner. Actually, I recommend you read the Amazon extract of that book to get a little vignette both of Hemingway and also of Havana back in the good old days.

Back to the recipe, this new one comes in at a sturdy 4 ounces (well, 3 3/4, but I rounded up) of rum, which is about twice as much as a normal Daiquiri takes, and also twice as much lime juice, so it now passes the “double” test. As well as much more grapefruit juice, another variation is that this drink is blended, whereas I mixed up the first version in a shaker.

So how does it measure up? Well, it’s not that different from just making two of my first recipe, but somehow it’s missing something. I’m going to notch it up to the fact that it’s still winter, and you really need to be in the searing heat to fully enjoy this ice-cold wonder…

Recipe:

4 oz. White Rum
2 oz. Lime juice
1 oz. Grapefruit juice
1/4 oz. Maraschino liqueur

Blend with 3/4 cup of crushed ice and serve in a large goblet.

Notes:

Very cold, sour and bitter. A killer combination in the summer, but maybe overkill in March.

Rating:

- Make the smaller version, at least that way you can have twice as many…

Head on over to Kaiser Penguin to see the rest of this Monday’s entries.

[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.

Having sat out of the last two Mixology Mondays, I didn’t want to let another pass without at least a nod and a tip of the hat, even though it’s been difficult to find the time because I’ve been traveling like Marco Polo for the last few weeks. All work, unfortunately.

Anyway, gin, you say? Well, even though there are many drinks with gin, this one will need to meet three criteria. It should be tasty or in some way interesting, it has to be new to this blog (I’m going on 50 posts and I’ve written about most of the easy ones), and I’d prefer it to be something relatively unblogged in general.

Digging around in Dr. Cocktail’s excellent Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, I came across the Barnum (Was Right). P.T. Barnum, famous circus entrepreneur, once famously stated that “There’s a fool born every minute,” and you only have to stop and pay attention to what goes on around you to know he was very right.

So that’s the the name. What’s the drink like? Well, I enjoyed it, for what it’s worth. I was looking for worthwhile drinks for my apricot brandy too, so that was a bonus. The gin helps get the sweetness under control, and you can enjoy the taste of the apricot without the cloying stickiness of the brandy, and the flavours combine together well, along with a little citrus bite from the lemon to make it a nicely balanced concoction.

Also, I only found one relatively ancient post by Kaiser Penguin about it, so that’s three out of three for Barnum (Was Right)!

Recipe:

2 oz. Gin
1 oz. Apricot Brandy
1/2 oz. Lemon juice
2 dashes Angostura Bitters

Shake well until very cold and serve in a cocktail glass. Garnish with something citrusy.

Notes:

It helps if you use a good fragrant gin, in order to make the drink as complex as possible. Either that or dial back the apricot brandy a little to stop it from overpowering a weaker gin. After all, gin is what it’s all about today.

Rating:

- Unusually pleasant and well balanced.

Check out the rest of this Monday’s contributions at Oh Gosh!

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.

The Rob Roy. It’s a name that brings back memories. You see, my father is Scottish and, probably due partly to that, I ended up spending my university years in Scotland – in Stirling, if you care.

Rob Roy was one of the best-known heroes of auld Scotland, along with William Wallace and Robert the Bruce. There is even a Hollywood film made about his life, starring Liam Neeson, although it didn’t reach the peaks of fame that William Wallace’s life story, Braveheart, did.

Nevertheless, he was definitely a character and, as such, his memory lives on in many forms. One that comes to mind is a pub in down-town Stirling where I think I went once as a student, never to return. I don’t recommend it. Another is the Rob Roy cocktail.

Now, with the heritage I described above, you’d think I would enjoy a dram of fine Scotch Whisky on occasion, but the uncomfortable truth is that I never liked it. Decided to get over this childish dislike of an obviously character-building drink, and having read that all you need to start liking things you used to hate is just to try them enough times, I recently invested in a bottle of single-malt scotch and went to work.

First I poured a measure into a small glass, because that’s apparently how you’re supposed to drink scotch. Then, I tried adding a splash of spring water, to open the flavor, apparently. I then added some ice, because on the rocks is such a cool expression. Finally, I added some seltzer, because anyone who’s anyone drinks Scotch & Soda.

It didn’t work. I still don’t like scotch. But having a full bottle of something is remarkable motivation, so I set out to find a use for it. Now, there aren’t many scotch cocktails, and the best-known is probably the Rob Roy, so it seemed like a good place to start. The remarkable similarity to my trusted Manhattan didn’t hurt either.

The verdict? Difficult question. I’m still not over the moon about scotch, I find its character is too pushy and dominates any drink that uses it in any significant quantity. Still, it’s definitely more palatable to someone like me who doesn’t normally like scotch. I did finish it quite quickly, which says something.

Recipe:

2 oz. Scotch Whisky
1 oz. Italian Vermouth
2 dashes Angostura Bitters

Stir everything together in a mixing glass and pour into a cocktail glass.

Notes:

As I mentioned above, the flavour profile of the scotch shines through the drink, although much more subtly than drinking it alone. For me this was pretty cool because I was identifying tastes and smells that I usually only read about in tasting notes.

Rating:

- Not bad, considering…

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.

I’m not really into sipping spirits. There are exceptions, like a brandy or eau-de-vie after a meal, but as a general rule I don’t do straight booze. That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the nuances of a fine spirit, of course, but I prefer having a vehicle to help it on its way.

Usually an Old Fashioned will do the trick for bourbon as well as other dark spirits such as rum. However, while browsing Beachbum Berry’s latest book Sippin’ Safari, the Rum, Gum & Lime struck me as having similar qualities and being more adapted to rum because of the lime juice it contains. Having tried it, I can happily report I wasn’t wrong. This simple recipe is great for appreciating a fine rum without having to drink it straight.

The Bum also recommends Ron Pampero Aniversario as being a good rum for this drink, if you’re undecided as to which rum to go with. I picked up a bottle since it was on my shopping list anyway, and have to second this recommendation. It really is a smooth and rich rum, and is a pleasure to taste. The original was made with a rum called Infierno, from Cuba, but this hasn’t been available for decades.

I’ll be using the Rum, Gum & Lime in my rum tastings from now on, no doubt about it.

Recipe:

1 1/2 oz. Rum
1/2 oz. Lime juice
1 tsp. Simple Syrup
1 oz. Seltzer

Stir everything in an old-fashioned glass with ice, and garnish with lime and orange peels.

Notes:

You may want to adjust the seltzer and simple syrup amounts to your taste and the rum you’re using. If the rum isn’t very intense, it can end up tasting watered-down with a full ounce of seltzer.

Rating:

- A cool tool for rating rum (I should work for The Sun)

It’s been a crazy week weather-wise here in Madrid. The end of the summer has brought a great unpredictability in the weather, and conditions are changing drastically from one day to the next. I’m tempted to say it’s all because of global warming, which would allow me to indulge in the popular hobby of blaming politicians, but Madrid has always been like this at the beginning of autumn (or fall, for those of the American persuasion), so I’ll just enjoy the good days in preparation for the winter.

On one of the warmer days we’ve had this week I found myself looking for something refreshing and new, and while browsing books I found just the thing in David Wondrich’s Killer Cocktails. While conjuring up images of people in comedy moustaches wearing suits and ties at the height of a New York summer, Wondrich introduces us to the Roof Garden Cooler, a drink invented at the Waldorf Hotel in the early twentieth century and designed to keep you cool despite the feeling of being wrapped in a carpet and thrown into an oven.

It’s a very nice tipple on its own merits, and is even more admirable when you consider it’s nothing more than a glorified wine cooler. It’s not too strong, using only vermouth as the alcoholic component, so you can engage in the activity of cooling yourself down without worrying too much about nasty side-effects. Hell, even my wife liked it, so I really can’t fault it.

Recipe:

2 oz. dry Vermouth
1 oz. Lime juice
1/4 -1/2 oz. Simple Syrup (original recipe states 1/2 teaspoon superfine sugar)
1 dash Angostura Bitters
Ginger Ale

Combine all ingredients in a glass, stirring until the sugar is dissolved if you haven’t used simple syrup. Add a few ice cubes and top with ginger ale.

Notes:

There really isn’t much to say, this drink is not too complex, apart from what the vermouth brings to the table.

I was surprised at how refreshing it was without any shaking or crushed ice in sight. Usually a built drink warms up relatively quickly, since it was never as cold to begin with. This one didn’t last long enough for that, though…

Rating:

- Don’t bother being traditional, you can have one while enjoying the air-conditioning.

When Great Britain was still the colonial power in the world, one of the lesser-known colonies it held was Burma, the largest country in Southeast Asia. Modern Burma, or Myanmar, is a thoroughly unpleasant place to live because of the oppressive military dictatorship that runs the place, especially in recent times.

Back when it was a colony, on the other hand, life was good if you were a foreigner. If you could get past the local climate, which was probably unlike anything you had ever experienced before if you were European, your quality of life was much higher than that of any local. Decent food, all the gin-and-tonics you could stomach (for medicinal purposes, of course) and in the evenings you could head to the club, just like any British gentleman.

One of these clubs was the Pegu Club. experts can’t agree on whether it was located in Pegu, a town about 60 km. northeast of the capital, Rangoon, or if it was in Rangoon itself. Regardless of its physical location, it was well regarded by its patrons, which included people like Rudyard Kipling, and must have been a pretty special place.

It’s signature drink was known just as the Pegu Club Cocktail. A simple mix of gin, Cointreau and lime juice, it is one of the great classics that has descended into obscurity with the passing of time. However, since the recipe is so simple, there really is no excuse for at least trying it once.

The problem is that all-too-common lack of an authoritative recipe. Thankfully it’s just a problem of proportions, since the list of ingredients is agreed-upon, and it allows you to mess around with what you prefer. I tried the version in Ted Haigh’s Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, and a few others I found on the net, and finally decided on one that reduced the amount of lime juice somewhat, since I felt it was overpowering the drink. Here is what I came up with.

Recipe:

2 oz. Gin
1/2 oz. Cointreau
1/2 oz. Lime juice
2 dashes Angostura Bitters

Shake with lots of ice until the shaker is frosty, and pour into a cocktail glass.

Notes:

I think with a good pungent gin I might push the gin back to 1 1/2 oz., but I’ll need to wait until I can get to a liquor store to try that because my gin stocks are currently very low.

Still, it’s pretty good. I’d encourage you to try it.

Rating:

- Let’s get hot and sweaty.

This is the drink I was going to write about for the last round of Mixology Monday, which I unfortunately missed due to being on holiday in a tropical jungle in the Congo, or the technological equivalent (i.e. my in-laws’ place). It’s what happens when one is too lazy to prepare things in advance.

The Suffering Bastard is noteworthy for being a tropical drink that doesn’t use rum. Apart from the name, of course, which makes it instantly memorable. It was created around 1950 at the Shepheards Hotel in Cairo, Egypt, and the name supposedly comes from some British officers mishearing a passing comment about a “suffering bar steward”.

In his seminal Grog Log, Beachbum Berry remarks that the original was made with brandy and ginger beer instead of bourbon and ginger ale. I didn’t have any ginger beer around, since it’s difficult to find here, and just swapping brandy for the bourbon would make a Horse’s Neck with some gin and lime juice thrown in, so I only tried the newer version.

So what’s it like? Well, it’s ok. The bourbon overpowers the drink somewhat, and doesn’t leave much room for tasting everything else. Maybe with a robust gin and a delicate bourbon it might work better, but I don’t think I’ll be making another one in a hurry.

There was one good thing, though. I was toying with not including a photo because I couldn’t get any decent ones (I’ll have to work on that), but I couldn’t resist showing you a close-up of a successful lime twist after the Fog Cutter attempt.

Recipe:

1 oz. Bourbon
1 oz. Gin
1 oz. Lime Juice
4 oz. Ginger Ale
1 dash Angostura Bitters (to taste, I like two or three dashes better)

Notes:

As I mentioned above, the Bourbon overpowered the rest of the drink. I used Jim Beam bourbon, since I didn’t want to try something more expensive on an unknown cocktail. Maybe something more delicate might work better, but I have my doubts, so I didn’t bother…

Rating:

- Cool name, pity about the drink.