Holiday Eggnog

My childhood memories of Christmas resemble faded Polaroids: mustard-yellow or pine green shag carpets, gaudy Christmas trees, bed-headed family members in bath robes and gowns, stockings over the hearth, the mouthwatering smell of a roast in the oven, blaring holiday music, and, of course, eggnog. Go on, try the link.

Eggnog - specifically, the eggnog my father used to make - was a staple at my parents' holiday gatherings for as long as I can remember. My dad would make gallons of the stuff in vats, and serve it up to guests - who, enthralled by the silky texture and rich flavor, would quaff cups of the stuff and wind up three sheets to the wind. That is because there is a boatload of bourbon in it, and rum too. Those parties got louder and louder as the night wore on.

As I grew a bit older, I was eventually initiated into the eggnog ritual, but allowed only one glass... My grandmother once got quite ridiculous after drinking two or three glasses of the stuff, triggering a laughing fit that took over the whole family for an hour. 

Oakland 1977

A few years ago, prior to a holiday party I was hosting, I asked Dad for his eggnog recipe. This makes a damn fine eggnog for the holidays, truly old school. It is incredibly thick, the consistency of heavily whipped cream. After shaking and serving, an inch of dense froth forms on the surface, which makes the ultimate moustache. It is definitely a dessert in a glass. Be forewarned, however, that the quantities seem to double once the cream is whipped and the egg whites are beaten. You will need very big mixing bowls in order to avoid the sort of billowing spillover that happened to me, ending in a desperate rummage for additional bowls into which to split the rapidly ballooning volumes of liquid.

You'll understand why this is a special treat, and why you are best off limiting yourself to this once a year at most, after one glance at the ingredients. A few notes before you get started: Dad recommends making this a week in advance, so the flavors meld. I am not sure it is necessary to do this - maybe a night or two instead. 

Holiday Eggnog

Makes a gallon plus

12 egg yolks

12 egg whites

1 1/2 cups of sugar

1/4 tsp salt

1 quart heavy cream

1 quart milk

750 ml bottle of bourbon

1 cup of light rum

Nutmeg for garnish

Beat the egg yolks with 1 cup of the sugar and the salt, until very light. In a separate bowl, beat the whites until stiff, then beat in the additional 1/2 cup of sugar. Combine the egg mixtures and beat until thoroughly blended. Next, whip the cream and then beat it into the egg mixture, followed by the milk. Stir in the whiskey and mix well, and finally, add the rum. 

You'll need a jug that holds over a gallon to store this, as the eggs and cream become very voluminous after beating. Store in a cool place (the fridge, in other words, or outside if you have cold winters). Be sure to shake the stuff vigorously before serving. Sprinkle nutmeg on top and watch your guests get loopy. It's good.

Bottoms up, and season's greetings! 

Hello, Hurricane Irene

Image courtesy of Reuters.

Today, Massachusetts is expecting the arrival of "greatly weakened" Hurricane Irene - most likely reduced to a tropical storm by the time it reaches us. Nonetheless, today there is no public transportation. Torrential, sideways rain. Violent wind. Since I have no desire to leave the house and possibly get my head staved in by a falling tree, I have decided that the approach of Irene warrants a couple of recipes appropriate for the day. Just for shits and giggles.

That means, of course, the Dark 'n' Stormy and the Hurricane.

The Dark 'n' Stormy was created in Bermuda sometime after WWI, and its recipe is actually protected by trademark. According to Jonathan Miles's article in the New York Times, "The Right Stuff (By Law)," a Dark 'n' Stormy has to be made with Gosling's Black Seal Rum. That's right. Current Gosling's owner E. Malcolm Gosling Jr. cautions that “People will try one with some other rum, and then say, what’s the big deal with this drink?”

That said, it is best with Gosling's rum, due to the rum's unique characteristics and dark hue. When I visited Bermuda, briefly in 2009, I had the opportunity (many, actually) to try these "on location." Though Gosling's was the only rum ever used, and Barritt's tended to be the ginger beer of choice, the actual ratios must have varied wildly because the cocktails would range from potent, strongly flavored concoctions to weak, watered-down affairs in cheap, plastic cups (see image below).

This sticks to the original ingredients, but with a slightly higher ration of rum than the Gosling's trademark "Dark 'n' Stormy®" calls for. I have been known to add a dash or two of Angostura Bitters to this drink, to pleasing effect. Don't sue me though.

The Dark & Stormy Cocktail

• 2 oz Gosling's Black Seal Rum 
• Gosling’s Stormy Ginger Beer or Barritt’s ginger beer (both from Bermuda); or, any ginger beer with a snap. 
• Lime wedge (I use about a quarter of a lime) 

Take your lime wedge and squeeze into a highball glass filled with ice. Add the rum, top-off with the ginger beer, and stir gently.

Okay, on to The Hurricane. Allegedly created in the 1940s by New Orleans tavern owner Pat O'Brien. Now, way down yonder in New Orleans, tourists drink these like water, in giant, 32-ounce to-go cups. "To go." Only in New Orleans. Of course, it is guaranteed that aforementioned tourists get soused and obnoxious and then do embarrassing things on Bourbon Street. I had a Hurricane in New Orleans. It was like Kool-Aid. It came in a giant cup. I refrained from having a second.

That said, I don't actually make this drink, so I can't recommend it or steer you away. It is here today because it is called the Hurricane. It is sweet. It has many ingredients. This particular recipe is taken from Dale DeGroff's fine book, Craft of the Cocktail. DeGroff enlightens us that:

According to Brian Rea, there were two versions. The first was a drink of the early twentieth century that contained Cognac, absinthe, and Polish vodka. The rum-juice combination appears to have surfaced at the 1939 World's Fair in New York, at the Hurricane Bar. I suspect that Rea is right - neither the drink nor Pat O'Brien's appear in the 1937 Famous Drinks of New Orleans, by Stanley Clisby Arthur.

The Hurricane

1 oz dark rum
1 oz light rum
1/2 oz Galliano
3/4 oz fresh lime juice
2 oz passion fruit nectar, or in a pinch, passion fruit syrup
2 oz fresh orange juice
2 oz pineapple juice
1 oz simple syrup
Dash Angostura Bitters
Fresh tropical fruit for garnish

Shake all the ingredients with ice and strain into a hurricane glass filled with ice. Add the garnish. Bottoms up! If Hurricane Irene doesn't blow us away, a couple of these sure will. 

The Hemingway Daiquiri

"My mojito in the Bodeguita del Medio and my daiquiri in the Floridita." 

- Ernest Hemingway

On July 2, 1961, Ernest Hemingway took his shotgun and took his leave of this world.

On July 2, 2011, the fiftieth anniversary of Papa Hemingway's death, my savvy wife suggested - quite wisely - that we honor one of the twentieth-century's greatest writers by recreating a drink he famously enjoyed at the historic El Floridita, in Havana, Cuba. The drink, of course, is the daiquiri.

I have had the pleasure of visiting El Floridita during two separate trips to Havana. This hallowed watering hole, like much of Havana, seems to have stood still in time, evoking a lush yet sepia-toned era of high style and tropical elegance. The incense of decades of cigar smoke makes the wood fragrant and spicy. The breeze wafts lazily through the open doors. At the very spot along the bar where Hemingway used to stand during his frequent visits, is a bronze statue commemorating his patronage and paying homage to the legendary relationship of a unique man to an incomparable city.

The daiquiri at El Floridita could be considered to be the pinnacle of this particular cocktail. Perhaps it is the location and the tropical heat, ensuring that the icy and tart drink has maximum impact in terms of nostalgia and refreshment. I am sure there are better daiquiris, bigger daiquiris, and stronger daiquiris, but none are as a beautiful or satisfying as one consumed at the bar, next to Hemingway's bronze, at El Floridita on a muggy afternoon in Havana.

The Hemingway Daiquiri, also known as the Papa Doble, was first made by Constantino Ribailagua of El Floridita in the early 1920s. What makes it different from the standard daiquiri (light rum, fresh lime juice, sugar) are ingredients such as grapefruit juice and maraschino liqueur. Without further ado:

Hemingway Daiquiri 
(aka, Papa Doble)

• 1.5 oz white rum (Cruzan is a good, inexpensive one)
• 1/4 oz maraschino liqueur such as Luxardo
• 1/2 oz fresh grapefruit juice
• 3/4 fresh lime juice
• 1/2 oz simple syrup or agave syrup, or teaspoon of superfine sugar

Combine the ingredients in a shaker, add ice, and shake vigorously for about a ten-count. Strain into a cocktail glass and enjoy. There is not usually a garnish (that I recall), but a sprig of mint looks and smells good with this.

Bottoms up!