And to All a Good Night

I managed one post last year and I will manage one again, this year. You can all blame the mighty Manhattan for my absence, for I have been sunk in its ever-evolving charms and comforting elegance throughout the past year. 

Now, however, that is beside the point. I am in the throes of addiction to a new magic.

It is December 21, 2014. The Winter Solstice. The Winter Solstice marks the longest night of the year. And this year, it will be the longest night in "the history of earth" (according to science -- or not). So, on the cusp of the longest night in 4.5 billion years, I am here to tell you about a spicy little number called, fittingly, And to All a Good Night. 

Forget that Christmas poem. At least, you will once a few of these have lubricated your puzzler. Attributed to Tim Stookey of the Presidio Social Club in San Francisco, this cocktail with the unwieldy name has won my heart over the past few weeks. And, it is a truly unusual tipple in that it brazenly mixes bourbon (or rye) with tequila. And then throws in a bit of Cherry Heering. On paper this sounds truly unpleasant, but not so much that I wasn't intrigued. So I got to work.

Some recommendations for liquor: First of all, while this was originally billed with bourbon, I can tell you that, so far, this has worked best for me with a nice, strong, spicy rye. I used Bulleit and it definitely added some nuances that were lost to Old Overholt. I would opt for a similar route with bourbon--go for something with a little oomph in the spice department. As for the tequila, I used a Espolón reposado, which worked nicely. I haven't experimented too much with different reposados, but it would be worth the effort I think. Then you have your Cherry Heering (no substitutes) and your bitters. I tried this with Angostura Orange bitters, and it fell short. You really will benefit from the Regan's orange bitters. They demonstrate more peel bitterness, and have quite a bite. Then a dash of Angostura bitters for that distinctive depth. Obviously, tastes differ -- which is why it is fun to play around with these cocktail recipes.

So what would such a mix of ingredients taste like? I was surprised. First of all, the orange oils from the garnish give this a sumptuous, magical bouquet. And each sip revealed (to these taste buds, at least) the richness of chocolate; a deep, dark hint of cherry fruit; and a lot of spiciness--using Bulleit rye I found a range of sparkling, palate-rousing mint, cinnamon, cocoa, pepper, vanilla. The tequila will add its own complimentary notes, which in retrospect is not so surprising, considering it too is aged in wood and carries a spicy whomp. 

The marvel, with this drink, is how all the flavors blend together into a most harmonious whole. Exactly as it should be with a superlative cocktail. So, my lovelies, get to work.

And to All a Good Night

• 1 1/2 oz bourbon or rye 
• 3/4 oz reposado tequila 
• 3/4 oz Cherry Heering
• 2 dashes Regan's orange bitters 
• 1 dash Angostura bitters
• Orange twist 

Combine the ingredients in a mixing glass with ice and stir until cold. Strain into a glass, take a swath of orange peel and gently spritz the oil across the surface (you can even try flaming it), deposit the peel in the glass, lift it to your lips, tilt the glass gently to no more than a 45 degree angle (toward your mouth, of course), and savor.

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!" And, I say, bottoms up.

The Old Pal

Where did January go? In the hustle of the new year, I have been able to make only one post in the first month. Maybe I will get two in for the second.

Following the train of thought that began with the Boulevardier cocktail, I am posting a slight variation on that delicious drink. By all accounts, this first appeared in Harry McElhone's Harry's ABC of Mixing Cocktails in 1922. This was actually an earlier version of the Boulevardier, for in 1927 this was no longer written up in McElhone's book (evidently replaced by the Boulevardier).

First of all, while the Boulevardier traditionally calls for bourbon and sweet vermouth, the Old Pal demands rye and dry. It is altogether drier than its sweeter cousin, with the spiciness of the rye at mid-tongue complemented by the full, bitter complexity of Campari. A hint of orange peel, citrus oil, and herbal notes touch against a welcome caramel flavor from the rye, and round out with a gentle, mineral whisper of the dry vermouth. Served up with a lemon twist, it is quite a delight.

A few comments about this, to begin with: I used Old Overholt rye, and the results were very good. However, I think you might do better with a more flavorful, rye-forward bottling (Wild Turkey makes a good 101-proof rye that should not be too difficult to find, or too expensive), especially when standing up to Campari. Today's resurgence in rye whiskey opens the door to many variables; depending on your palate and preferences, there are numerous experiments to be made. For the dry vermouth, I used Dolin, which I think is outstanding. Others have expounded on Vya dry vermouth, but in some ways I find that it competes a bit too much with the other flavors. I am not discouraging you from trying it out, though, as it is truly unique.

Now, before March comes parading along, here is the recipe.

Old Pal Cocktail

• 1 1/2 oz rye whiskey
• 3/4 oz dry vermouth
• 3/4 oz Campari
• Twist

Stir with ice in a mixing glass until very cold, and strain into a cocktail glass. Twist a piece of lemon peel over the drink, so that the citrus oils spritz across the surface. Use the twist as garnish, if you like.

Bottoms up, old pals!

The Little Italy Cocktail

This cocktail was introduced to me by the bartender at Island Creek Oyster Bar in Boston's Kenmore Square (at which I spent far too much time - and far, far too much money) one evening in October. The fellow was an understated but skilled practitioner, and once he knew that the Manhattan was my favored cocktail, he was quick to suggest all manner of variations.

This libation was my favorite of the night, and I gleaned the recipe by watching him make it. It's basically a Manhattan with a rye base, but as the name suggests, the flavor of Italian ingredients transforms the old classic, capturing the essence of Manhattan's "Little Italy." It's one of those drinks that is very simple, but challenging in terms of ingredients: you should really use Carpano Antica Formula sweet vermouth, as it has a distinctive flavor that blends very well with the other hard-to-find ingredient, Cynar.

Cynar is an Italian artichoke-based bitter liqueur. I have found it locally at the ever-bountiful Cambridge Wine and Spirits, at the Fresh Pond Mall (you can also find the Carpano Antica Formula there, as well as the superb California vermouth "Vya"). The other place to look is Dave's Fresh Pasta in Somerville.

After a little research (and I stress a little because I am extremely lazy and my research is cursory at best - which means you should always exercise a healthy skepticism whenever I claim to know anything), I discovered that this delicious drink was created and named by one Audrey Saunders of New York's Pegu Club. And as Imbibe magazine says, "This cocktail is New York all the way. It’s the perfect expression of the neighborhood that Pegu Club’s Audrey Saunders named it for, with the American brawn of rye whiskey and the richness of Italian ingredients."

While you must have the Cynar, and finding the Carpano is highly advisable, the choice of rye is up to you. I used Wild Turkey 101 Rye in my version, because my favorite rye - Rittenhouse 100 - has seemingly become quite scarce in my neck of the woods. However, if you can find the Rittenhouse 100, it's called for in the original recipe, so I suggest going for that. You'll save a few bucks, as well.

Here is the monkey-exact, original recipe:

Little Italy Cocktail

• 2 oz Rye whiskey (Rittenhouse 100 in the original)
• 1/2 oz Cynar
• 3/4 oz Carpano Antica Formula vermouth
• Luxardo maraschino cherry in syrup

In a mixing glass with ice, stir the ingredients until very cold. Strain into a cocktail glass, and garnish with the cherry.

You can find good quality, flavorful cherries, such as the Italian Luxardo cherries in syrup, at the Boston Shaker, or at specialty liquor stores (or even online from Amazon.com). If you hate the bright red maraschino cherries found in supermarkets, then these are worth the extra $10 or $15. Otherwise, the others are fine for garnish.

Salute! Bottoms up.

The Trinidad Sour

Wow. This is an absolutely effing amazing cocktail, by Giuseppe Gonzalez, bartender at Painkiller in New York City. I have never been to this establishment, but thanks to the miracle of the Internet, I have been lucky enough to experience this fine adult beverage.

It has only one-half ounce of rye whiskey in it. But it has a full ounce of Angostura Bitters. And you may not know this, but Angostura Bitters has 44.7% alcohol content - which makes it about 90 proof. There are very few cocktails that make bitters the main ingredient. That's because bitters are, well, bitter. But this ingenious cocktail balances the ounce of bitters with orgeat syrup, lemon juice, and rye, to create, in effect, one of the most unusual sour cocktails out there. The depth is indescribable, with clove, rye, lemon, almond, and many other subtle flavors commingling perfectly.

There are some precursors. The Trinidad Especial - by Valentino Bolgnese - is bitters, orgeat, lime, and pisco. And, the honorable Mr Gonzalez also invented a Mai Tai called the Stormy Mai Tai - in which there are one and a half ounces of Angostura Bitters (and a half ounce of light rum). I don't know what I am thinking, but I have not tried this sure-to-be-brilliant take on the Mai Tai... I will have to remedy this soon.

Speaking of bitters, I must mention that there was a very frightening point in time (2009) during which it became very difficult to find Angostura Bitters. I could not buy them at my liquor store, and even established watering holes in Boston had to be creative due to a lack of this critical cocktail ingredient. Turns out, I was not the only one in a panic. Luckily, during this time, I happened to find a couple of small bottles of Angostura at a supermarket. I bought them all. One cannot live without Angostura Bitters if one is the least bit serious about making cocktails.

Thankfully, the great bitters shortage came to an end. And I celebrated by making this amazing, fantastic, delicious cocktail. As there is so little of the rye whiskey in this drink, and the bitters are so pungent, I use a robust rye bottling such as Wild Turkey 101 Rye, Rittenhouse Rye, or Bulleit Rye.

(One very important note: The Trinidad Sour calls for orgeat syrup. Orgeat syrup is a sweet syrup derived from almonds. You have to have it in this drink, in order to balance the bitters. I found mine, by Fee Brothers, at the Boston Shaker.)

The Trinidad Sour

1 oz Angostura Bitters
1 oz orgeat syrup
3/4 oz fresh lemon juice
1/2 oz rye whiskey

Shake all the ingredients with ice, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Note the color of this drink, with its deep mahogany, burgundy, and amber hues. Sip and be amazed. This may well be one of the most fascinating and delicious cocktails of the twenty-first century.

Bottoms up. And, thank goodness for Angostura Bitters.