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.

Election Day? Try the Commander in Chief.

I'll keep this simple. I went out and voted today. I hope you did, too. Now, I have to wait on the edge of my seat to see if the country gets turned back 12 years, or if it decides it is better to keep advancing. It's a white-knuckle moment, but I will have help dealing with it courtesy of mixologist Michael Lay at Restaurant 1833 in Monterey, California, and his Commander in Chief cocktail.

It is a well-balanced mix of rye (calls for Bulleit, but I used Rittenhouse), Carpano Antica Formula vermouth, Cherry Heering, and Campari, with some Fee Brothers Orange Bitters and, according to the Restaurant 1833 site, a Laphroaig rinse as well. I did not have Laphroaig, which is a smoky Islay malt, so I tried it with a scotch I had on hand--Glenkinchie 12 year old Edinburgh malt--less smokey, so perhaps not as assertive as might be required in this rich cocktail. If you have Laphroaig, try it out. Leave a comment about your experience. Decide what is right for you. Then, cast your ballot.

By the way, this is quite a delicious drink, with a lot of depth and nice orange notes. You have to be sure and flame that peel!

In the shaker tonight:

Commander in Chief

• 2 oz rye
• 1/2 oz Carpano Antica 
• 1/2 oz Campari 
• 1/2 oz Cherry Heering
• 2 dashes Fee Brothers Orange Bitters 
• Flamed orange peel

Measure and pour all the ingredients together in a glass and stir gently. Strain into a coupe rinsed with Laphroaig scotch, and flame the orange peel across the drink.

And then bottoms up! Hail to the Chief.

Remember the Maine

The U.S.S. Maine enters Havana Harbor.

After a miserably long silence -- my time away being spent attending matters of adult responsibility (not suffering, whatever you may hear from various reprobates, any forced abstinence) -- I present to you a cocktail bestowed with wonderful flavors and a mysterious moniker. There is a tale to be told about the libation referred to as "Remember the Maine." (Note to the reader: I may have previously mentioned that my research skills are dodgy and I am heroically lazy. Nonetheless, I think I've been able to piece together the basic story.)

The U.S.S. Maine, portrayed by Frederick Nelson Atwood.

It was the winter of 1898, and the battleship U.S.S. Maine had been sent to Havana, Cuba, to protect the interests of the United States during Cuba's revolt against the Spanish colonists. Three weeks after arriving, the Maine was anchored in Havana Harbor when a devastating explosion sent the great ship to the sea floor. Two hundred fifty-three sailors went down with the wreck. Eight later died of related injuries. Of 355 men, only 94 survived the blast and the sinking.

The ship's five-ton store of gunpowder had detonated. All parties involved in the ensuing investigation agree on that. How the magazines exploded remains up for debate. All manner of conspiracy theories haunt the sinking of the Maine. Was it an accident? Was there a mine? Was it sabotage? An act of terror? One such theory, propagated with great sensationalism by Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst in what became known as the "yellow press," was that the Spanish were responsible for sinking the American ship. The hawkish Pulitzer and Hearst sympathized with Cuba's plight for independence from Spain, and soon the phrase "Remember the Maine, to Hell with Spain!" was popularized, with the intention of prodding the U.S. into the Spanish–American War.

Wreck of the U.S.S. Maine.

Other stories circulated, with boards of inquiries leading to varying conclusions: the 1898 Del Peral and De Salas Inquiry discounted mines and advised that the gunpowder explosion was caused by a fire in the coal bunker; the 1898 Sampson Board's Court of Inquiry concluded that a coal fire could not have been possible and that a mine was the culprit; the 1911 Vreeland Board's Court of Inquiry found that the arms explosion was triggered by an external explosion, likely a mine, but their evidence differed from that of the 1898 Sampson Board; the 1974 Rickover Investigation, a private inquiry, examined photographs and ship plans and concluded that there was no external breach, and that spontaneous combustion in the coal bunker must have caused the magazines to explode; the 1998 National Geographic Investigation utilized the technology of computer modeling to assert that the damage to the ship's hull pointed away from an initial munitions explosion, but stopped short of claiming proof of a mine; and, in 2002, the History Channel Unsolved History Investigation landed on the side of the coal-bunker fire as causing the ignition of the gunpowder. 

Finally, a few pointed toward a "false flag" theory, speculating that the U.S. sank its own ship and sacrificed its sailors to justify war against Spain and to protect Cuba (or, to lay claim to the island in place of the Spanish).

While any of the aforementioned events are plausible, the true cause of the sinking of the Maine remains a mystery. And who gives a damn? History is history, and we have a wonderful cocktail to enjoy, called "Remember the Maine." 

So, what is the link between libation and liberation?

Charles H. Baker’s 1939 book, The Gentleman’s Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book or Around the World with Jigger, Beaker and Flask, is understood to be the first in which the Remember the Maine cocktail is mentioned. Baker's description includes a reference to the 1933 coup against the government of Gerardo Machado by General Batista during the "Revolt of the Sergeants" (Batista would, much later, be defeated by Fidel Castro's revolutionaries):

“Remember the Maine, a hazy memory of a night in Havana during the unpleasantness of 1933, when each swallow was punctuated with bombs going off on the Prado, or the sound of 3″ shells being fired at the Hotel Nacional, then haven for certain anti-revolutionary officers.”

We can only surmise the connection between cocktail and the course of history, but perhaps having a drink in Havana in 1933 and hearing, as described by Baker, the siege of the Hotel Nacional, was enough to stir memories of the former "unpleasantness" with the Maine and the Spanish–American War. In any case, let's get to the booze.

I tried this recipe numerous times, with varying ingredients and ratios, and landed upon a combination that I think is well-balanced and pleasing. It's the kind of drink that can be experimented with, by using different ryes (I tried James E. Pepper 1776 Rye and Rittenhouse Rye, both 100 proof, as well as Old Overholt -- all do well) or vermouths (Carpano Antica was too sweet, Punt y Mes was intriguing but not quite right, and Vya worked nicely; however, I found the best was the ever-so-slightly bitter Cocchi Vermouth di Torino), and even absinthes (I used Kübler, because it is the bottle I have on hand). However, you can't do without the Cherry Heering, as there really is no substitute.

Remember the Maine

3 oz rye whiskey

1 oz sweet vermouth (try Cocchi Vermouth di Torino)

2 tsp (10 ml) Cherry Heering

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) absinthe (or, rinse the glass and discard)

Maraschino cherry

Charles H. Baker himself eloquently instructs: "Stir briskly in clock-wise fashion -- this makes it sea going, presumably! -- turn into a big chilled saucer champagne glass, twisting a curl of green lime or lemon peel over the top." 

My preference is a maraschino cherry -- especially one prepared by Luxardo. Just what the doctor ordered. Of course, it is all a matter of personal taste.

Bottoms up -- and, Remember the Maine!

The Singapore Sling

In my effort to experience a wide range of classic cocktails without discrimination, I knew that the Singapore Sling was going to come up sometime.

When I think "Singapore Sling," my mind's eye conjures a picture of colonial outposts in Southeast Asia: mouldering rooms with lazy, rattan ceiling fans useless against the oppressive humidity; the unearthly sounds of screaming monkeys and the opium-vision of rainbow-plumaged birds careening beneath the dense jungle canopy; perhaps the sinister slither of a cobra beneath the mosquito-net-enclosed porch.

That's a bit rich (are there actually cobras there?), but you get the point. The Singapore Sling has a bit of exotic mystery around it. 

The Singapore Sling was created by a certain Mr. Ngiam Tong Boon, at Raffles Hotel in Singapore, in the early part of the twentieth century. The exact date can be argued, and other folks are better equipped to do that. Most sources agree it was invented before 1915. Some claim it was around as early as 1903. There is much debate around the authenticity of any Sling recipe. One claim to an "original" recipe is contradicted by another "original" recipe. The bigger issue is, as with all tropical umbrella drinks, time has seen the Sling debauched and debased; sweetened, weakened, and cheapened like a tart. It is hardly itself any more.

That said, there is no shortage of beguiling recipes out there. The one I am going to share is taken from a recipe in Imbibe Magazine, which also happens to have an article about the Sling as well, called "How the Sling was Slung." In that article, author David Wondrich writes:

With a 1903 reference to “pink slings for pale people,” we can begin to lay to rest the common argument that the reference to “dry cherry brandy” in Robert Vermiere’s 1922 Cocktails: How to Mix Them, the drink’s first appearance in a cocktail book, means that it should be made with a clear kirschwasser rather than a red liqueur such as Cherry Heering. Add the fact that the only cherry brandies that turn up in local liquor advertisements are the red Bols cherry brandy or the aforementioned Heering (at the time, Bols had a dry version of its regular cherry brandy, which was its standard version blended with Cognac).

Wondrich is arguing that the "dry cherry brandy" called for in a Singapore Sling is most likely the red Cherry Heering. On the other hand, author Jason Wilson suggests in a Washington Post article that the "cherry brandy" in the recipe is the clear kirschwasser - because Heering is not really a true brandy.

Who's right? Who cares? Both contenders have decent recipes that taste good; that aren't cheapened with pre-made mix; that remain refreshing and tall. I prefer the Sling made with Cherry Heering. I like its red hue, and its combination of tartness and sweetness. The Sling made with kirschwasser is drier and more floral, thanks to the brandy. Here's what I say: Try both!

Below is the recipe taken from Imbibe Magazine. You can find a variation at DrinkBoy.com, in which there is more gin and less liqueurs, plus pineapple juice. For the recipe with kirschwasser, see the Washington Post.


The Singapore Sling

1 oz London dry gin
1 oz Cherry Heering
1 oz Bénédictine
1 oz fresh lime juice
2 oz soda water
1-2 dashes Angostura Bitters


Take the first four ingredients and put them in a shaker with ice. Give it a quick shake and strain into a tall, ice-filled glass. Top it up with the soda water, and add the bitters as a float on top. Amazingly for an umbrella drink, this has no garnish. If you can't live with that, take a hunk of pineapple or a lime, and stick a plastic umbrella or sword in it, and use that (see illustration, left).

Bottoms up!

Blood and Sand Cocktail

On paper, the Blood and Sand Cocktail sounds wrong... Scotch whisky, cherry brandy, orange juice, sweet vermouth? Scotch in any mixed drink is an unusual concept. And the range of scotch - from fireside-smoky to heather-and-honey to seaside salt-wind and ocean spray - makes the outcome of this drink unpredictable yet always surprising. This is what makes the Blood and Sand so intriguing, and so worthy of experimentation in ratios and ingredients. Plus, this drink is appropriate any season (and any time of day). Just add a bit more orange juice in the morning.

Blood and Sand (with kirsch)

I have made a few of these in my time, usually with just stuff I have in the liquor cabinet or fridge. That means whatever blended whisky is on hand for guests (usually J&B or Johnny Walker); sweet vermouth (any will do); orange juice (fresh is best but if all you have is a carton in the fridge, that's fine too); and cherry brandy. Who has cherry brandy lying around? Well, many people have a bottle of kirschwasser on hand for cooking, and I have used kirsch in this drink and I have enjoyed it. It makes a cocktail with a light, "sand" color (since kirsch is colorless) and a slightly woody flavor mingling with the tart sweetness of the orange juice and the smokiness of the scotch.

Recently, however, I have thought more about the "cherry brandy" element. An article in the always-informative Imbibe Magazine piqued my interest in Cherry Heering, describing it as a "ruby-red liqueur made by soaking lightly crushed Danish cherries and a blend of spices in neutral grain spirits, then cask-maturing the mixture for up to five years, adding sugar during the aging process." The article goes on to clarify that Heering is not to be confused with kirschwasser or Maraschino liqueur. Cherry Heering is suggested for adding depth to classic libations such as the Singapore Sling or the Blood and Sand.

So I went out and looked for Cherry Heering, and managed to find it quite easily at one of my local liquor stores. The Blood and Sand using Heering is more robust, deeper-hued (a little blood mixed with the sand), and I would say has more mouth-filling depth of flavor. The Heering on its own is a deep red, and is richly flavored - tart but not sweet.

The recipe I follow for the Blood and Sand is from Gary Regan's Joy of Mixology. It is simple: equal parts. It suggests that any part could be increased or decreased for variations on sweetness or smokiness. Over time I have tried different whiskies in this cocktail, from J&B blended whisky to single malts. For my taste, a milder malt, with some smoke but not too much, is best in this drink. When I used a very peaty Islay single malt, it was a bit too smoky (though not unpleasant). I preferred a heathery highland malt, which added just the right smokiness and layers of honey to the drink.

Blood and Sand (with Cherry Heering)

Blood and Sand Cocktail

• 3/4 oz blended scotch whisky (or single malt)
• 3/4 oz sweet vermouth (any works, but try using Carpano Antica Formula or Vya, if you can find them; both add their own nuances to this drink)
• 3/4 oz fresh orange juice (if you find blood orange, that would be appropriate)
• 3/4 oz Cherry Heering (kirschwasser works too, but is quite different in flavor)

Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange peel if you so choose. 


Bottoms up!