The 1794 Cocktail

This cocktail commemorates the Whiskey Rebellion of 1794. A very brief overview: In the late 1700s, a tax was levied on whiskey in order to address millions of dollars in debt that had accrued under the Articles of Confederation, which prohibited taxation of states. As part of the new government that began operating in 1789 - after the ratification of the U.S. Constitution - Secretary of the Treasury Alexander Hamilton established the tax to help address the debt.

Famous whiskey insurrection in Pennsylvania (1880). Courtesy of NY Public Library.

The tax was highly unpopular among those on the western frontier of the U.S. It pitted the small, independent farmers and distillers of the west against the big companies back east. The western producers of whiskey protested the tax. They refused to pay, and were subsequently subpoenaed by the government. This eventually led to the Battle of Bower Hill in Pennsylvania - and loss of life. Clashes continued until the government finally prevailed in squashing the rebellion. You can read about this fascinating event in detail at Wikipedia (reservoir of all knowledge).

In the meantime, let's talk about the 1794 Cocktail. It's a delicious riff on the Boulevardier, composed of rye, Campari, sweet vermouth, and bitters. The original Boulevardier is a Prohibition-era drink made of bourbon or rye, Campari, and sweet vermouth. It is basically a whiskey-based Negroni (which is equal parts gin, Campari, and sweet vermouth).

The beauty of the 1794 Cocktail (which I understand was created by Dominic Venegas at "Range" in San Francisco) is that it allows for welcome variation in ratios. Campari is incredibly intense, and in my opinion, works better in the 1794 as an element of the drink rather than an equal partner. You also want a nice, spicy, solid rye that will stand up to the Campari while complementing it. Ryes I use in this are Wild Turkey 101, Rittenhouse 100, or Redemption Rye - all work well.

Vermouth-wise, I am happy using Noilly Prat Rouge, but even better is Vya sweet vermouth (out of California). You could try Carpano Antica Formula, but it's flavor is also intense and might be a bit much with the Campari. However, the beauty of this drink is that you can play around with the ratios and ingredients and see what happens.

As for the bitters in this drink, I read about using Bittermen's Xocolatl Mole Bitters from the Cocktail Virgin blog (which in turn credits "John from No.9 Park," a Boston restaurant). It just so happens that I received a bottle of this very bitters as a gift from close friends. It was a good excuse to experiment with this unusual but very pleasing cocktail - and I am incredibly glad that I did.

You'll find spiciness in the rye and a fruity note from the vermouth and Campari - cleanly undercut by the Campari's bitter finish. Surprisingly, the Xocolatl Mole bitters add a delicious undertone of gingerbread that suits this drink beautifully. It would be worth trying other bitters (orange would be a good match) as well.

A final note: My spouse, who cares not for Campari, loves this drink. So do not let any bias against that ingredient prohibit you from trying this!


The 1794 Cocktail

• 2 oz rye whiskey 
• 1/2 oz Campari
• 1/2 oz sweet vermouth 
• 1 or 2 drops of Bittermen's Xocolatl Mole Bitters 

Stir with ice until very cold, and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon or orange peel.

Bottoms up.

The Kentucky Longshot, the Back Forty, and the Mint Julep

In honor of it being Kentucky Derby Day 2011, I am posting a couple of bourbon recipes I found. It is a day for bourbon, and there are many choices... For a few more, visit this article "Beyond the Julep" by the Wall Street Journal.

The first is called the Kentucky Longshot, and it is a great way to use Domaine de Canton Ginger Liqueur. According to Gary Regan, who adapted the recipe in Joy of Mixology, the drink was created in honor of the 1998 Breeders' Cup by the late Max Allen Jr., a bartender at the Seelbach Hilton Hotel in Louisville, KY. 

The drink has an interesting fusion of flavors, with a good spice from the bourbon (I used my standby, Wild Turkey 101), Angostura, and ginger (I used the aforementioned Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur), followed by a sweeter note of the peach (Hiram Walker Peach Schnapps) and the unique, floral aspect of the Peychaud's. One might think the liqueurs would make this drink too sweet, but that is not the case. It has some sweetness, not too much, and is complex in its depth. You can add more bourbon and bitters or adjust the ratios of the liqueur and brandy. Think of it as a Manhattan with liqueurs replacing the vermouth.

Kentucky Longshot

• 2 oz bourbon
• 1/2 oz ginger liqueur
• 1/2 oz peach brandy
• 1 dash Angostura bitters
• 1 dash Peychaud's bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. The recipe I took this from recommends garnishing with three pieces of candied ginger (representing "win, place, and show"). One piece is plenty, though.

I also found a recipe online for The Back Forty, devised at the restaurant of the same name in New York. It's very much like a whiskey sour, but with an unusual and delicious distinction: it is made with Vermont maple syrup. The syrup, to my taste, is less sweet than your average simple syrup, so is ideal for a sour that has the notes of candy without being sickly sweet.

The Back Forty

2 oz bourbon

4 teaspoons of maple syrup

1 oz fresh lemon juice

3-5 dashes of Fee Brothers orange bitters

In a shaker with ice, shake all the ingredients vigorously, to ensure that the syrup is well-mixed. You could also stir the syrup with two teaspoons of hot water to dissolve it, then add the other ingredients.  

Strain into an ice-filled rocks glass. Garnish with a lemon or lime wheel, or a cherry, and enjoy. Perfect for a summer day.


Note: You can also make the sour mix by the batch: 1 part maple syrup to 1 part lemon juice.

Julep cups, courtesy of Anne & Todd, Derby Day 2011

Finally, it is Derby Day - the day of the famed Mint Julep.  There are certainly many variations of the julep, from a big ol' glass of glass of bourbon over crushed ice (with a sprig of mint for fashion) to bourbon with mint-infused simple syrup, to bourbon and various liqueurs. in common, perhaps, they should all be very, very cold. Crushed ice adds a lot of water to the drink (which is probably not a bad idea if you're in the big ol' glass of bourbon mode), but it also allows the cocktail to become extremely cold. The idea is to stir the drink until frost forms on the outside of the glass (or a nickel- or silver-plated julep cup, if you happen to have one).

Here is my variation on the julep:

The Mint Julep

3-4 oz Kentucky bourbon
1 oz peach brandy
Bunch of fragrant mint

Muddle a generous portion of the mint and the ounce of peach brandy in a glass (gently: just bruise the mint to allow the bouquet to flourish). Remove the bruised mint. Pour in the bourbon, fill with crushed ice - right to the top of the glass - and stir in a clockwise motion with a swizzle until the outside of the glass (or julep cup) is frosted. Or as long as you can stand. Add a fresh mint sprig as garnish; the sprig should be generous enough to provide fragrance while sipping...

Bottoms up.

The Whiskey Sour

Cape Cod + Whiskey Sour = Paradise

The perfect cocktail to top off a day at the beach.

Whiskey Sour
Adjust ratios of whiskey to sour mix to taste.

• 2 parts bourbon or rye whiskey
• 1 part homemade sour mix (recipe here)

Shake with ice. Shake it like hell until the ice is shattered and the shaker is too cold for your hands. Strain into an Old-Fashioned glass, and garnish with a maraschino cherry and a slice of orange. Or strain it over rocks, if you prefer it that way.

Be sure to check out the "Back Forty," a variation on the whiskey sour with a maple syrup-based sour mix, and the "Elmwood Sour," made with rosemary simple syrup and creme de cassis.

Bottoms up.

The Leatherneck Cocktail

I had never heard of this until it was introduced to me by close friends, who also happen to be avid appreciators of the mixed drink. I have to admit, when they listed off the ingredients, it sounded like a revolting combination. The color, however, was hypnotic like the cerulean seas of Greece. Or something like that. And it tasted marvelous!


"Leatherneck" is slang for a member of the Marines. The following is lifted from the DrinkGal website:

Created in 1951 by a former Marine and New York World Telegram columnist, Frank Farrell. Ted Haigh found this cocktail in the book "Bottoms Up" by Ted Saucier, and Saucier quoted Farrell as giving instructions for this cocktail, saying "Shake violently on the rocks and serve in a cocktail glass... Stop smoking. Fasten your seat belts. Empty your fountain pens. Because after two gulps, you'll seriously consider yourself capable of straightening out Chinese fire drills." 

Of course, the name is from the term "Leatherneck" which referred to Marines who used to wear a high leather collar in the Revolutionary War to protect their necks from swords.

The other night I tried my hand at the Leatherneck Cocktail. My willing spouse and I had to see that color again. I needed to refresh my memory of the taste. I bought some blue curaçao (same taste as orange curaçao, except colored bright blue) and some limes. We were off and running. After a few of these, you'll be ready for a risky mission of some sort.

The Leatherneck Cocktail

• 2 oz rye whiskey (I use Rittenhouse 100-proof rye)
• 3/4 oz blue curaçao
• 1/2 oz fresh lime juice

Shake with vigor and strain into a chilled cocktail glass - any glass you have that will show off the fine coloring of this delightful adult beverage. You can garnish with a lime wheel, but actually I prefer not to and advise against it. Despite appearing in the pictures here, I think the garnish messes with the serene beauty of the drink.

The Mai Tai

If you have not had a Mai Tai at the House Without a Key in Waikiki, you cannot be blamed for thinking that this is a sickly sweet "umbrella drink" made with rum, sour mix, and pineapple juice. Fun while eating at your local Tiki-themed restaurant, but not to be taken seriously.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Mai Tai is a serious drink. Made well, as demonstrated by the House Without a Key, it is elegant, potent, and flavorful - and not too sweet at all. Of course, if you are averse to even a touch of sweetness in a cocktail, you might find this too sugary, but try it anyway. You will be surprised. I certainly was. I made it my mission to try as many Mai Tais as I could find in Oahu, realizing ahead of time that I would be in for many a generic pineapple drink with umbrellas and fruit. A sucker tourist with a sugar headache. And I never, not once, had one as good as that at the House Without a Key. Even at the neighboring, fancy hotels with beach-side terraces. They were all made with pineapple juice (not an ingredient in the Mai Tai), were too sweet, and had a one-dimensional flavor, sort of like a mass-appeal drink for people to swill rather than savor.

Who invented the Mai Tai? I am not sure (Don the Beachcomber claimed to have invented it in 1933), but Trader Vic's Victor Bergeron has a good story about creating it in 1944:

I was at the service bar in my Oakland restaurant. I took down a bottle of 17-year-old rum. It was J. Wray Nephew from Jamaica; surprisingly golden in color, medium bodied, but with the rich pungent flavor particular to the Jamaican blends. The flavor of this great rum wasn't meant to be overpowered with heavy additions of fruit juices and flavorings. I took a fresh lime, added some orange curacao from Holland, a dash of Rock Candy Syrup, and a dollop of French Orgeat, for its subtle almond flavor. A generous amount of shaved ice and vigorous shaking by hand produced the marriage I was after. Half the lime shell went in for color ... I stuck in a branch of fresh mint and gave two of them to Ham and Carrie Guild, friends from Tahiti, who were there that night. Carrie took one sip and said, 'Mai Tai - Roa Ae.' In Tahitian this means 'Out of This World - The Best.' Well, that was that. I named the drink Mai Tai. - From "Mai Tai" in the Bartenders Database, retrieved 2011-4-30.

You can find the classic recipes used at Trader Vic's and Don the Beachcomber's here. My recipe is down below.

After a visit to the islands, in a state of despair at being back in Boston after time spent in paradise, I set about to emulate the Mai Tai at House Without a Key. I wanted it to be strong and not too sweet. As a starting point, I looked at Dale DeGroff's recipe in The Craft of the Cocktail, and I looked at Gary Regan's recipe in Joy of Mixology, as these two books have informed and inspired me endlessly. In the end I adapted their formulas until I found a drink that closely resembled the Mai Tai I recalled from House Without a Key, but which has its own distinctions.

This cocktail is more about the right flavors than the name on the bottles, but I suggest Cruzan Aged Rum as a starting point, as it is inexpensive but good quality, and not too fine to mix. From there, try longer-aged gold/amber rums. Some darker rums (Whaler's, Myers's) strike me as too bitter to be the main ingredient in this drink, but can be floated on the top to create a teak-colored surface that tempers the sweetness of the curacao. Also, many recipes (such as these) call for a combination of aged golden and dark rums in the drink, and it is certainly fun to experiment. One more note: This drink calls for orgeat (a sweet syrup with an almond flavor) or falernum (a similar sugar syrup, with more of a clove flavor), which can be hard to track down (I found them, along with a huge collection of bitters, at The Boston Shaker). These syrups make the drink quite sweet if over-used, so I actually substitute those with amaretto liqueur, and it adds the almond nuance without the sugar syrup sweetness.

The Mai Tai is a perfect summer cocktail - and a true classic. Drink it while listening to Andy Cummings' song "Waikiki," or any other Hawaiian music from the 20s or 30s (sung in English, called hapa haole) and you can almost imagine the sweet, fragrant breezes of the south Pacific caressing your senses as beachboys surf the long waves of Waikiki beach with lovely wahines held aloft in their burnished arms...

Mai Tai at House Without a Key

Mai Tai

2 oz aged rum
3/4 oz orange curacao
3/4 oz fresh lime juice
1/4 oz amaretto liqueur
Float of dark rum

Shake the ingredients with ice, and strain into an Old Fashioned glass (rocks glass) over ice cubes.

Float 1/4 oz or so of dark rum over the surface (I use Gosling's Black Rum).

Garnish with a lime round and a mint sprig (unless you have orchids). Thread the mint sprig stem through the center of the lime and float in the middle of the glass. Bottoms up!