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.

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.

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.

The Planter’s Punch is one of that class of drinks with no fixed recipe. If you look in ten different places, you’ll likely find ten different formulations. Many books and databases even include several variations, giving each one a number.

I decided to look into the history of the Planter’s Punch to see if I could find a definitive or original recipe, but things don’t seem to be that clear. According to Wikipedia, the first known reference to a Planter’s Punch is in the August 8, 1908 edition of the New York Times, where a generic recipe is given as this little poem:

This recipe I give to thee,
Dear brother in the heat.
Take two of sour (lime let it be)
To one and a half of sweet,
Of Old Jamaica pour three strong,
And add four parts of weak.
Then mix and drink. I do no wrong —
I know whereof I speak.

Now I don’t know about you, but to me that seems like an invitation to improvise. The recipe gives four ingredients — lime, Jamaican rum, something sweet and something weak. Lime and rum are fixed, so we’re left with two ingredients to play with. Thankfully the measures were easy to translate into modern units, with each part being half-an-ounce in my interpretation.

For Sweet I decided early on to use my newly acquired Orgeat syrup (there’s a Mai Tai post coming soon when I can source the quality ingredients needed). I tried another version with a new homemade grenadine I’ve been toying with, but the Orgeat was somehow more satisfying. That may just be me favouring something new, though.

Weak is obviously some sort of fruit juice. Orange and pineapple are the usual suspects here, so I wanted a little change from that, but without going all out and using mango or passion fruit either. I settled on grapefruit juice as being out-of-the-ordinary enough without being cliché tropical.

For the rum, I cheated slightly because I found that the full given amount of dark Jamaican rum overpowered the drink. So I reduced the Jamaican rum to one ounce, and threw in some Havana Club Añejo 3 años for it’s distinctive nose and taste. I suppose that reading my new Beachbum Berry book arsenal is having an effect on me.

As to the name, it’s an allusion to the numbers given to variations I mention in the beginning of the post, joined with a rather geeky pop-culture reference.

Recipe:

1 oz. Dark Jamaican Rum
1/2 oz. Light Rum
3/4 oz. Sirop d’Orgeat
1 oz. Lime juice
2 oz. Grapefruit juice

Shake with plenty of cracked ice until you can’t feel the tips of your fingers, and serve in a large tall glass.

Notes:

The Orgeat is pretty pronounced, so you may want to reduce it to 1/2 oz. to make it more subtle. Either way, it’s a nice drink that’s refreshing and not too sweet.

I’ll also be trying this with a slightly less pungent Jamaican rum, and using the full 1 1/2 oz. to see how that works out.

Rating:

- Refreshing and different.

One of the timeless summer classics, the Margarita is a typical example of a decent drink with a bad reputation. When it is well made, with quality ingredients, it is a nice and balanced drink suitable for hot afternoons.

Like many classics, its origin is lost in the mists of time. Robert Hess outlines quite a few of the available stories in the Drinkboy Margarita recipe page. I don’t have enough data to choose any one account as being more likely than the rest, so I won’t bother. However, it’s safe to assume that a 1930’s/40’s origin is likely.

This date can help explain reason why the Margarita became so spectacularly popular, since it coincides both with the beginning of the tiki, and by extension tropical-drink, craze and also with the beginning of the United States’ view of Mexico as a party-place of sorts. The combination of tropical theme and the Mexico angle given by tequila may have pushed this drink over many others to its current status as one of the most well-known cocktails in the world.

But this is all speculation, of course. Maybe part of the appeal is because of people’s view of tequila as an especially nasty spirit, imbuing the Margarita with a certain mystique and aura of danger, and making it intriguing and attractive to many.

Whatever the reason for trying one, many tend to indulge in a few more, due in no small part to the fact that it’s actually not a bad drink. Unfortunately, the morning after ends up being more memorable than the night before.

The components of this potion are as well-known as they are simple — Tequila, lime juice and triple-sec. If you want your drink to be the best it can be, you need to use the best ingredients. To begin with, a 100%-agave tequila, preferably a young tequila with a little bite to it, is essential. The lime juice should be freshly squeezed and not from a bottle. Finally, the triple-sec must be Cointreau, there is no equal.

Finally, the signature of the Margarita is the salt around the rim of the glass. The technique for this is simple. Place some kosher salt in a saucer, run a lime wedge around the edge of the glass and dip the tip of the glass sideways in the saucer until the outside rim is covered in salt. Many places will just put your glass upside down into a plate of salt, but that will result in salt sticking to the inside of the rim as well as the outside. From here it can slide down into your drink making it salty, which is a very undesirable effect.

As to how to combine these ingredients, there are a few accepted ratios. I’ve settled on the 3:2:1 ratio of tequila/Cointreau/lime juice, which Drinkboy also endorses after a suggestion from Gary Regan. Other recipes call for equal parts of all ingredients, or else a 2:1:1 which reduces the sweetness somewhat.

Recipe:

1 1/2 oz. Tequila
1 oz. Cointreau
1/2 oz. Lime juice

Shake everything with ice and strain into a salt-rimmed cocktail glass, or Margarita saucer.

Notes:

Although It’s not a drink I normally consider, it’s status as a classic is indisputable. The taste is really very distinctive and mixing up a few as a party trick will usually get you looks of admiration, especially if you can drink it and not fall over.

Some people recommend making them with Grand Marnier, an orange liqueur with a brandy base, although in those cases the ratios should be modified to accomodate the additional sweetness of the Grand Marnier.

Rating:

- Maybe if I was more of a Tequila connoisseur, I might like it better.

I first saw this drink mentioned on Beachbum Berry’s blog over a month ago, and had been intrigued by it until a few days ago, when I finally got my hands on some allspice and made the requisite syrup. I have to say it is very good. So good, in fact, that it made me ponder the adequacy of my rating system.

You see, a four-star drink has to be like a friend who is always there for you no matter what. That means, apart from tasting great, it has to be easy to make and have ingredients I am likely to have around the house. The rating system is very clear — rare ingredients or difficult methods get you two stars.

The ingredient list is where the Navy Grog falters. It uses something called Grog Mix, which is an allspice syrup you pretty much have to make yourself. The directions are simple, according to the Bum:

Grind enough whole dried allspice berries to make 6 level tablespoons. Place the ground allspice in a saucepan with 1 cup sugar and 1 cup water. Bring it all to a boil, then cover and simmer for two minutes. Remove the saucepan from heat and — keeping it covered — let steep for two to three hours, then strain into a bottle and refrigerate.

No matter how simple-to-make an ingredient is, it remains an added complexity. This is especially true for me because I’m so lazy when it comes to making these things, hell, I don’t even have any simple syrup usually.

The resulting drink, however, is really something. The allspice is very prominent and unlike anything I’d ever tasted before in a glass. It works wonders with the robust rums in the mix, and makes the entire experience very satisfying. I recommend you make yourself one right away, or as soon as you’ve mixed up some Grog Mix.

Recipe:

1 oz. dark Jamaican Rum
1 oz. Demerara Rum
3/4 oz. Lime juice
1/2 oz. Grapefruit juice
3/4 oz. Grog Mix

Shake everything together briskly with plenty of crushed ice and pour into a double old-fashioned glass.

Notes:

Demerara rum is impossible to find here in Spain, so I ended up just substituting it for a completely different rum, to see what the effect was. I used Cruzan gold rum, which is new round these parts, and the result was quite decent.

Rating:

- If I make Grog Mix on a regular basis, it’s no longer a difficult-to-find ingredient, right? Right??

This post is actually about two different drinks that just happen to share the same name and ingredients. Confused? Read on.

I was actually looking for some information on tiki legend Don the Beachcomber when I came across this cocktail. There are a few recipes out there with the same name, so I used the one I found most frequently. Luckily, it’s also the recipe that used ingredients I had on-hand.

The reason I mention two drinks is that most sources simply call for rum, which has many different incarnations, so I tried mixing up a couple of these with two very different rums to compare the outcome.

The first rum I used was Captain Morgan’s Black Label Jamaica Rum, my default dark rum. I won’t lie to you, it wasn’t great. The balance was off and the rum overpowered everything except the maraschino liqueur, which is almost impossible to tame. The sugar rim worked quite well in improving the drink somewhat, but I still wasn’t impressed.

Not one to accept defeat so readily, I figured I’d try the other rum in my arsenal at the moment, the Havana Club Añejo 3 Años. This light rum is a staple in many cuban drinks, and since the Beachcomber is similar in nature and ingredients, I figured it would work better. I wasn’t mistaken, this new drink was lighter and more refreshing than the previous effort, with the rum and lime working together and the maraschino giving it that touch of bitterness. Altogether a much better drink.

If you’re looking for something similar to a Papa Doble but in a cocktail glass, you could do worse.

Recipe:

1.5 oz. light Rum
0.5 oz. Lime juice
0.5 oz. Cointreau
1/4 tsp. Maraschino Liqueur

Shake everything together with plenty of ice, and serve in a sugar-rimmed cocktail glass.

Notes:

Don’t even think about omitting the sugar rim. Without it, the cocktail is simply too tart, and in a cocktail glass with no ice it’s not going to remain cold enough for this to be a pleasant experience.

Rating:

- A decent, if unadventurous, summer concoction.

Hey Dave, where have you been?

On holiday, like I said in my previous post. Here, if you must know.

Did you get much cocktailing done?

Nope, my folks don’t have the same urge to store fifty different bottles at home that I do. Hell, they don’t even have a shaker.

Sounds like an excuse to present a crappy MxMonday drink…

Actually, I’ve been thinking about it for a two or three weeks. That doesn’t mean it’s any good, of course, it just means that this entry isn’t entirely improvised.

So what did you come up with?

Well, I considered being “original” and maybe doing something like the Brandy Alexander.

That’s the kind of “original” that everyone else thinks of too.

Exactly. So then I thought about maybe dusting off the Hummingbird or something similar.

Risky business, covering a cocktail you only published a few weeks ago…

Yup. Finally, I remembered that Barceló has a new rum cream and that I conveniently had a bottle purchased at my wife’s behest, so I decided to come up with something that uses it. I don’t know if it’s great, but at least it’s mine. And I even came up with a cool name.
What’s this rum cream like?

It’s made using Dominican aged rum, in a recipe I suspect is similar to most other cream liqueurs. This rum is apparently aged in Bourbon casks for a length of time before being used to make this cream. Barceló’s aged rum is actually quite nice on it’s own, and the rum cream is also decent. It’s not something that comes at you, though. It’s basically just Bailey’s with rum.

What can you possibly mix that with?

Remember we’re talking rum here, so I wanted something traditionally tropical but also creamy. Coconut cream fits the bill perfectly.

Interesting, I can’t find any recipe on Google that combines those two ingredients.

Neither could I, possibly with good reason… Anyway, I finally needed a hint of sweetness and flavour to contrast with the existing profile, so I added a little Amaretto. Maybe it’s the easy way out, but it works fairly well.

And since it’s a tropical drink, we’re talking blender here.

Great. By the way, what’s with the name you’ve given it?

Coco Blanco is the name of a bird native to Santo Domingo, which is where Barceló rum hails from. You may know it, it’s called the White Ibis in English. Also, the drink uses coconut and comes out white, so it’s a kind of play on words.

Well, are you going to make us a couple or what?

Coming right up…

Recipe:

1 1/2 oz. Rum Cream
2 oz. Coconut Cream
1/4 oz. Amaretto

In a blender, mix the rum cream and coconut cream with about half-a-cup of ice. Blend until smooth, serve into a wide glass and pour a splash of amaretto into the glass using a spoon to spread it out over the surface. The idea is to get it to streak slightly when stirred using the straw.

Notes:

You have to be careful with two things here.

Both the rum cream and coconut cream have relatively delicate flavours, so if you overdo the ice it’s going to get watery and tasteless. However, if you don’t add enough ice, the drink is going to be too sweet. A hint: It’s called a Coco Blanco, so the drink should be white before adding the amaretto. If it’s rum cream colour, then you need more ice.

Also, be very careful not to overdo the amaretto. If you get it just right, it should add to the drink without taking over. It’s way too easy to pour in too much, so start with a little and work up from there. You shouldn’t need more than half a tablespoon.

Rating:

I can’t rate my own drink, although my wife seems to like it and has already tasked me with making it next time we have friends around. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Visit Morsels & Musings for the rest of the Mixology Monday entries.

To finish this short run of brazilian drinks, I’m going to cover another batida. Whereas the Batida de Coco I presented yesterday is very light and refreshing, the Batida de Manga is a creamier, sweeter drink. From what I’ve seen, together they represent the two most common styles of batidas in Brazil.

Manga is portuguese for mango, so this is still very much a tropical drink. Instead of sugar, this drink uses condensed milk as the sweetener, which is key to getting the creamy factor. Of course, this makes the blender mandatory.

Also, it’s important to use a rich mango nectar in order to make the drink denser. Even better, use a slice of mango.

Finally, you can substitute any fruit, really, instead of the mango. Passion fruit, strawberries or bananas come to mind.

Recipe:

2 oz. Cachaça
3 oz. Mango nectar, or a slice of mango
2 oz. Condensed Milk

Throw everything in a blender with plenty of ice and blend until creamy and frothy. Serve in a tall glass with a small slice of mango, a straw, cocktail umbrella, the works.

Notes:

Not much to say, a nice poolside drink. You can tone down the alcohol if you’re planning to guzzle a whole lot of them.

Rating:

- Pretty nice.

The summer is starting to take a hold around here, and that means I’ll be wheeling out some classic summer drinks. First up, hailing from the caribbean island of Cuba, is the Mojito.

The Mojito is probably the best-known cuban drink at the moment, since it has been fashionable for a couple of years now. The unashamed use of fresh mint is one of the reasons it stays in people’s minds, and the fact that it’s an authentic drink that actual cuban people drink makes it special. This last point is why I like to keep things as close to the original as possible. For that, we need the right ingredients.

First up is the rum. It must be cuban, and should be Havana Club Añejo 3-year-old. However, there are other cuban rums you can try.

The mint must be the hierbabuena type used in Cuba (and thankfully also the most prevalent here in Spain.) This mint has wider leaves and a lighter colour than the more common spearmint, and is more fragrant.

Finally, even though most sources omit it, I have it on good faith from people who have been to Cuba that cuban bartenders add Angostura Bitters to the Mojito. The recipe I’ve sourced comes from a cuban bartender on a spanish-language mailing list, so I’m reasonably confident it’s correct.

Recipe:

1 1/2 oz. White Rum (Havana Club 3-year-old is authentic)
1/2 oz. Lime juice
3 oz. Seltzer
2 fresh mint sprigs (about 8-10 leaves)
3 drops Angostura Bitters
1 tsp Sugar

Put the sugar in a glass and add the lime juice (about half a lime’s worth). Place one of the mint sprigs in the glass and muddle the mint well with the sugar. Add a little seltzer and stir to dissolve the sugar. Add the rum, the lime hull and a few ice cubes, top up with seltzer and garnish with the remaining mint sprig. Finally, add the bitters carefully to the drink, without stirring.

Notes:

One of the quintessential cuban drinks, and a cocktail standard. Very fashionable lately, it doesn’t hurt that it’s one of the best summer drinks out there, in my opinion.

Rating:

- Four stars for a classic.