My favorite cocktails, part 5: the Sazerac

The Sazerac:
The most beautiful thing you can put in your mouth.
--David L. Smith, MD

Don't let anyone from New Orleans convince you that the Sazerac was the first cocktail.  That apocryphal story circles around this city like Achilles with Hector in tow, but it's not even close to true.  It is true that, in the 1850s, the owner of the Sazerac Coffee House combined Sazerac-du-Forge et Fils Cognac with absinthe and the bitters produced by New Orleans apothacary Antoine Peychaud for his signature cocktail.  In the second half of the 19th century, both Civil War blockade and French wine-country crop failures made Cognac scarce in New Orleans.  Thereafter, rye became the spirit of choice for this drinker's delicacy.

Three anecdotes:
a) I once had a cocktail party at which I served ten classic cocktails (in 1/3 proportions) to ten guests.  That makes 100 different drink experiences.  I took a poll that night, and every person thought the Sazerac was the best drink of them all.
b) A close (and very successful) friend once told me, in all seriousness, that my teaching him how to make a good Sazerac was "...one of the ten most important things I've learned in my entire life, maybe top five."

My favorite cocktails, part 4: the Brandy Crusta

The Brandy Crusta was one of several mixed drinks to grace the pages of the first printed bartender's manual, authored by Jerry Thomas and published in 1862.  It's a nearly forgotten drink today, and what a shame that is!  It's not a hard drink to make (I usually defer on the complex lemon peel garnish, but perhaps I shouldn't).  This is how you and I should make it:

2 oz Cognac (Martel VSOP)
1 tsp curaçao (Grand Marnier)
1 tsp Luxardo maraschino liqueur
2 tsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 tsp simple syrup
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Stir with ice, and strain into a sugar-rimmed wine glass.  Garnish with a whole lemon rind.

My favorite cocktails, part 3: the Improved gin cocktail

This time, we'll move to gin. I don't like gin straight, but I'll admit it's good for mixing drinks because it's very versatile. There was a point in my life when I was ready to give up on gin altogether and dedicate myself entirely to whiskey. I told Kirk Estopinal at Cure of my resolution, but I gave him (and gin) one last chance to convince me otherwise. Kirk brought his best and changed my mind with an Improved gin cocktail:

1.5 oz gin (Aviation)
1 tsp simple syrup
1 tsp Luxardo maraschino liqueur
2 dashes Peychaud's bitters
2 dashes Regans' orange bitters
1 dash absinthe (I use 3 drops)
Stir on ice; orange twist.

This exquisite cocktail is the best gin cocktail I've ever had and could ever hope to have.

My favorite cocktails, part 2: the Sidecar

For no particular reason, the second entry in my list of favorite cocktails is the Sidecar.  If you read my first post, it may occur to you that a Sidecar is not technically a cocktail; it's a sour.  A sour is merely a spirit plus lemon or lime juice plus a sweetener.  That sweetener can be sugar, a syrup, or a liqueur.  In lesser bars or in the premade-margarita-mix aisle of your grocery store, you can buy "Sour mix."  Skip that, and take the time to make a crisper, cleaner sour mix as it was originally intended: equal parts lemon or lime juice and simple syrup.

This is a very popular family of mixed drinks with hundreds of variations.  Consider:

whiskey + lemon juice + syrup = whiskey sour

gin + lemon juice + maraschino liqueur = Aviation

light rum + lime juice + syrup = Daiquiri

cachaça + lime juice + sugar = caipirinha

tequila + lime juice + orange liqueur (eg. triple sec) = margarita

applejack + lemon juice + grenadine = Jack Rose

etc.

Thursday dinner at La Crepe Nanou

I intend for this blog to be a diary of my dining experiences as well as a chronicle of my drinking debauchery, and I've already mentioned Wednesday night's dinner at Clancy's.  Thursday (yes, the very  next day), I ate at La Crepe Nanou with Mackenzie. 

I had a baby spinach salad with crumbled blue cheese, succulent tomatoes, sliced avocado, with a vinaigrette dressing; then I had two whole grilled quail with a red wine reduction sauce, angel hair pasta with a light butter/oil sauce, and garlic/butter sauteed veggies.  I chose a Côtes du Rhône because I was at a French restaurant, not because I know anything about wine (I don't).  I was way too full for dessert.

There you go.

My favorite cocktails, part 1: the Old Fashioned

Many people ask me what my favorite cocktail is, so I thought that I would write a bit about that.  As it turns out, my favorite cocktails are everyone's favorite cocktails because, well, they are the best.  So I'll cover some drinks that are, to the cocktail cognoscenti, boring.  To them, I apologize for covering material that is covered ad nauseum elsewhere.

For the rest of you, over a few posts, I'll present several sublime mixed drinks in no particular order.  Most of them are "old."  Why is my list of favorites disproportionally populated by old drinks?  The good stuff sticks around by virtue of it's superiority and stands the test of time.  Just like the music of Palestrina, Monteverdi, Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven has been renowned for its brilliance for centuries, the best cocktails have, as well.  In 300 years, they'll still be the best cocktails, and maybe a few newcomers will join them.  For now, just a few are and will remain my favorites.

We'll start with the Old Fashioned because it allows me to do some explaining. 

Syrups

Sugar is used in nearly every mixed drink in one form or another, whether by itself or incorporated via a liqueur, etc. In the distant past, it would be combined in its solid form with spirits and water. Unfortunately, our granulated sugar doesn't dissolve very readily in cold spirits with very little water, so syrups are widely utilized.

I nearly exclusively use syrups over granulated sugar (with exceptions including a sugar cube for a champagne cocktail or a sugar rim coating in a brandy crusta). When I make drinks with clear spirits, I usually use simple syrup; with brown spirits, I often use demarara syrup; and grenadine and raspberry syrup find their way into many recipes. These latter demonstrate that you can flavor your syrup with anything you want: cf. Berber syrup. You can make syrups with whatever ratio of sugar to water you want, but if you go much higher than 2.5:1, the sugar will precipiate into crystals at the bottom of the container. Go any less than 1:1, and the mouthfeel is unpleasantly thin. That said, this is how I do it:

Simple syrup

1 cup granulated sugar
100 mL (seriously) water
Combine in a saucepan. Raise to a boil while stirring; boil for several seconds. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to several weeks.

After Wednesday dinner

After dinner, which Rich and I shared with Admiral Rick while sitting at the bar, a few others joined us for drinks. Watching Rick sip a very good tequila and a simultaneous brutal lapse in judgment lead me to order a Tequila Old Fashioned.

2 oz of a good tequila (I think I watched a Don Julio go in my glass)
1 tsp simple syrup (use agave syrup if you can find it in your international foods aisle)
2 dashes Angostura bitters (The Bitter Truth Xocolatl Mole bitters would be interesting, here)
Stir; rocks; lemon twist.

An Old Fashioned is any spirit treated with sugar and bitters over ice. By the 1880s when its title became more or less standardized, this was the old fashioned way of preparing a cocktail (as opposed to newfangled concoctions such as the Martinez, Manhattan, or Tom Collins). So a tequila old fashioned is totally legitimate. I chose it last night because
1) I'd never had one
2) I don't own any tequila good enough to sip
3) I suffered that judgment lapse.
Actually, I shouldn't sell this cocktail short. I didn't finish it more because it was late and I don't love tequila, not because it wasn't an excellent drink. I was very pleasantly surprised how nicely the sweetness of the syrup tamed the (to me) normal unpleasantness of the tequila. The bitters, as always, added character and depth to an already flavorful combination. Plus, the tequila was of excellent quality, so that was key. Will I order this again? Probably not. But this experience has influenced me to buy a good bottle of tequila and be prepared to serve a Tequila Old Fashioned to any tequila lover that ventures into my living room.

Wed dinner at Clancy's

I spent about 7 hours on Wednesday in the car, driving half-way to Birmingham to make an illicit-appearing cat exchange with my father in the median of the interstate in rural Mississippi. On the way home, Rich called to complain about getting back from vacation and wanted to use serial maneuvers of yoga and alcohol to outflank his bad mood. We therefore resolved to eat and drink at Clancy's.

I walked in and took a seat in front of Garth, Clancy's venerable barkeep. I asked Garth what he was making these days, and the reply was, "Same old crap." So I figured I'd show him the Juliet & Romeo. I ordered dinner (chicken/andouille gumbo, arugula salad with vinegrette, and halibut with garlic/butter sauce and topped with crawfish tails, plus fried potatoes and asparagus). During dinner, I decided to get another drink, so I ordered a Last Word. I don't know why I did, but I did.

3/4 oz London dry gin
3/4 oz fresh lime juice
3/4 oz green Chartreuse
3/4 oz Luxardo maraschino liqueur

The Last Word is an excellent and very interesting drink. The combination of chartreuse and maraschino in such large volumes is a little scary on paper, but it works. The Chartreuse's usually-dominant piney/herbal flavor is gently cut by the maraschino (which is generally added to a drink by the teaspoon). The two combined balance the tartness of the lime which, with the gin, make this a surprisingly light drink.

Also, and this is in no wise directed at Garth, these equal-part recipes are convenient to have in mind when you find yourself before a bartender that you don't trust to make you a good drink. It's hard to mess up equal parts (although I have had this very drink massacred when someone substituted Pernod for Chartreuse). I'm sure I'll write about a few more as time passes.

Tuesday night cocktail hour(s)

After a slow start, I hosted another successful Tuesday Cocktail Hour(s).


Amanda showed up first and, newly armed with the recipe for the Trouble & Desire (thanks to Mike Yusko), I made her a T&D. Of course, I don't have all of the specialty ingredients (especially the Carpano Antica Formula vermouth), so I substituted for a less-sublime cocktail as below:

2 oz Flor de Cana 7 year rum
3/4 oz Martini & Rossi sweet vermouth
1/2 oz Licor 43
1/2 oz Myers's Jamaican rum
Stir; rocks; orange twist.

The Flor de Cana is a bit less smooth than the originally intended El Dorado 5 year demarara rum, and the Martini & Rossi has a different flavor profile than the Carpano, so on the sip there was a little less character than the original, but still excellent and smooth. This was my first use of Licor 43, the flavor of which I lost in this rendition. In the end, my cheap T&D is a very good cocktail, but not nearly as excellent as Mike's version. Without the intended ingredients, I'd probably just as soon drink a Cruzan Single Barrel Old Fashioned/treacle, but try it for yourself and see what you think.

Tuesday night cocktail hour(s) (cont.)

Matt and Michele came over, and she ordered the Sazerac d'orange as her single allowed drink (lest she start catfights with the other women there). I developed the Sazerac d'orange to make a respectable cocktail for my Sazerac-averse then-girlfriend, Julietta. It's just a Sazerac with the addition of Regan's orange bitters and an orange twist instead of lemon. Because I'm trying to utilize my Berber syrup, a simple syrup combined with a number of indiginous north-African spices, I made a

Berber Sazerac

1 oz Sazerac 6 year rye
1 oz Wild Turkey 101 rye
1/4 oz Berber syrup
1 dash Peychaud's bitters
1 dash Fee Bros. orange bitters

Combine, stir with ice, and set aside. Rinse/coat a chilled Old Fashioned glass with absinthe or absinthe substitute (Herbsaint or Pernod) and discard the excess. Strain the rye mixture into the coated OF glass. Add a twist of orange peel and mosten the glass's rim with the orange oil, too.

Berber simple syrup: Combine oh, I don't know, a tablespoon each of cracked black peppercorn, coriander seeds, and cardimom; maybe 3 inches-worth of cinnamon sticks; a teaspoon or two a paprika; a dozen whole cloves; a couple teaspoons of allspice; a teaspoon or so of cumin seeds; a couple cracked star-anise pods and roast in a sauce pan for a few minutes. Then add 1 cup of sugar and 1 cup of water and raise to a boil. Then remove from heat. Strain the solid components from the solution (think coffee filter) and refrigerate the syrup for up to a few weeks.

This cocktail was (predictably) spicier than it's Sazerac base, and that in a pleasant, interesting way. Was it better than a Sazerac? Of course not. But was it a fun supra-Saharan sidetour? Yes.

Tuesday night cocktail hour(s) (cont. ii)

Rehema joined in the fun with her old standby,

Tom Collins

2 oz whatever my well gin is
1/2 oz fresh lemon juice
1/2 (2:1) simple syrup
Shake; strain into a Collins glass with rocks; top off with club soda and agitate to mix.

A refreshing, trusty classic.

Tuesday night cocktail hour(s) (cont. iii)

Natalie hadn't graced Tuesday Night Cocktail Hour(s) since the very first event, and so I was especially excited to have her over.

She asked for something light and refreshing and mentioned that she'd been drinking Pimm's Cups recently. The Pimm's Cup's cucumber reminded me of the Juliet & Romeo, which matched her request. The Juliet & Romeo is the signature cocktail of The Violet Hour which, in my opinion, is by far the best bar in Chicago.

2 oz London dry or Hendrick's gin (I used Plymouth)
3/4 oz fresh lime juice
3/4 oz (2:1) simple syrup
a pinch of salt
3 slices of peeled cucumber
several mint leaves
Muddle ingredients, then shake over ice, and double strain into a cocktail glass. Lay a rubbed or slapped mint leaf on the surface of the drink and place 3 drops of Angostura bitters on the surface, as well. Garnish with a cucumber slice.

One always gets lots of compliments on fabulous cocktails, especially if the drinker has never heard of it. No difference here. Natalie's eyes widened with pleasure on her first sip. Then, over the next few mintues she said that it was her new favorite cocktail and (I think) that it was the best cocktail she's ever had. She ordered a second when she finished it. I wasn't surprised that that reaction. It is an amazing drink. Thanks to David Wondrich at Esquire for introducing me to it.

Tuesday night cocktail hour(s) (cont. iv)

Mackenzie showed up FINALLY, and I started manufacturing the Ramos Gin Fizz which I promised her earlier in the day. Having never made one before, I was interested to see in what noodle-like state my arms would be after I was done with it. I used the recipe I found in one of my old New Orleans cocktail books:

1 egg white
2 oz heavy cream
1/2 oz fresh lemon juice
1/2 oz fresh lime juice
1/2 oz (2:1) simple syrup

3 drops vanilla extract 

Combine and shake like the dickens for at least a minute. Then add
2 oz gin (I used Old Tom this time, but would usually use a London dry like Plymouth)
3-4 drops orange flower water (Which I did not have. For kicks, I substituted 3 drops of creme de violette and 1 drop of Fee Bros. orange bitters)
Shake like the dickens for another minute or until your actin, myosin, and kinesin apparati are done broke; strain into a tall glass; and add a straw.

I was pleased both with the flavor and texture of my first Ramos Gin Fizz, and I think that Mackenzie, the queen of the RGF, herself, was, as well. I was displeased with my cardiac conditioning and the stength and conditioning of my arms; but that will surprise no one.

Tuesday night cocktail hour(s) (cont. v)

When I recovered my strength, it was time for a second round. For Amanda I made a

Moroccan Old Fashioned

2 oz Sazerac 6 year rye
1/4 oz Berber syrup (recipe with Berber Sazerac)
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash Regans' orange bitters
Stir; rocks; orange twist.

Again, a Carthaginian twist on a classic (the son of Hamlicar would be proud, I'm sure). The syrup's spiciness complimented that of the rye to give a very nice flavor. Not a bad Old Fashioned variation which I learned at Cocktail Virgin Slut.

Tuesday night cocktail hour(s) (cont. vi)

Mackenzie's second drink was the Clover Club, introduced to us by Kirk Estopinal at Cure. It's a classic and basically a gin daisy with egg white.

2 oz London dry gin (Plymouth)
1 oz fresh lemon juice
~3/4 oz house grenadine or raspberry syrup
1 egg white
Combine all but gin and 1/4 oz syrup and shake. Then add gin and shake with ice. Place remaining 1/4 oz of syrup in the very bottom of a cocktail glass, then strain mixture into the glass, layering it over the syrup which sits prettily at the bottom.

This is a very nice drink, indeed. Its acidity is softened by the egg white, and the texture is beautiful. I screwed it up the first go-round and then winged the correction, so the volume of grenadine is an estimate, but it's close enough. Try it yourself and see what you think!

Opening round

I think the concept of this blog is to record some thoughts and experiences that I'd otherwise forget as time passes. It may not last long...