Mississippi Punch

Flipping through Jerry Thomas's 1862 bartender's guide, one earns a new respect for punches.  They were the workhorse concoction for entertaining groups greater than just a few people, and the variety of recipes in use in the mid 19th century was enormous.  The vast majority, surely, never saw print and were the inventions of unnamed thousands of party hosts throughout this land and the British empire.

Since I'm I, I'll give you a bit of etymology.  Besides our English numbers and their closely-related Germanic counterparts, we're familiar with Grecoitalic numbers (wait for the figure...).  East of the Centum-Satem isogloss, numbers are different:

Saturday 3pm drink

Jetlagged a few days after returning from Africa, 2:00 PM arrived, and I was exhausted but could not sleep.  Needing to be fresh for a 7:00 PM graduation event in which I almost certainly would need my wits about me, I resolved to try a comfort drink to slow my mind and help me take a mid-afternoon snooze.  My dad suggested milk; I was thinking booze.  Ergo:

Milk Punch

1 oz Cognac

1 oz amber rum

2 tsp simple syrup

Combine above ingredients with ice in an Old Fashioned glass and fill to the top with milk.  Shake.  Shave nutmeg on top.

I'll let you know if it worked.

Update: It didn't work.  Still couldn't sleep.

Tuesday night cocktail hour(s)

Last Tuesday night's cocktail hour(s) included some new guests, some regulars, some new drinks, and some old ones.  Here's what I served, some of which were served multiple times...


Mai Tai


1 oz amber rum (Flor de Caña 7 year)
1 oz Jamaica rum (Myers's)
3/4 oz lime juice
1/2 oz triple sec
1/2 oz orgeat syrup
1/4 oz simple syrup
Shake, rocks.


Apple/Orange Mai Tai (my modification)

1 oz applejack (Laird's)
1 oz Jamaica rum (Myers's)
3/4 oz fresh lime juice
1/2 oz triple sec
1/2 oz orgeat syrup
1/4 oz simple syrup
2 dashes orange bitters (Regans')
Shake, rocks.


Tom Collins

2 oz London Dry gin
2 tsp lime juice
2 tsp simple syrup
Shake all but club soda.  Strain into a Collins glass with ice.  Add club soda to the top, and agitate to mix.


Sherman's March (my invention)

1 oz bourbon (Knob Creek)
1 oz Southern Comfort
1 tsp grain alcohol or overproof rum (Everclear)
2 dashes peach bitters (Fee Bros.)
1 dash Fee Bros. Old Fashion bitters
Stir all but overproof spirit on ice; strain into a cocktail/champagne coupe.  Float overproof spirit on the top, and ignite.  Spray oil from a lemon peel twist into the flames.  Quickly drink after the fire goes out.


Cocktail a la Louisiane

3/4 oz rye
3/4 oz Benedictine
3/4 oz sweet vermouth
3 dashes absinthe
3 dashes Peychaud's bitters
Stir, strain, homemade maraschino cherry. 

My favorite cocktails, part 7: the Mint Julep

I know of no mixed drink that causes as many arguments as the mint julep.  That history of controversy goes back a long way.  One old recipe book states:

Well, down our way we've always had a theory that the Civil War was not brought on by Secession or Slavery or the State's Rights issue. These matters contributed to the quarrel, but there is a deeper reason. It was brought on by some Yankee coming down south and putting nutmeg in a julep. So our folks just up and left the Union flat.

As my dear old friend, Dr. Herlitz, frequently says, "There are things about which intelligent men may disagree."  In the case of mint juleps, intelligent men may disagree as to the base spirit used.  They may legitimately use brandy, rum, rye, bourbon, applejack, or even gin or genever.  They may combine these, if they please.  As it turns out, most people, myself included, think that Kentucky bourbon whiskey makes the best mint julep.

There are some things, though, about which intelligent men may not disagree: namely whether one may add citrus juice, sour mix, a carbonated beverage of any sort, fruit, or any other contaminant to the sweet simplicity of a julep.  They may not.

To make a mint julep, combine bourbon (or whatever spirit or combination thereof pleases you) with muddled mint, sugar/syrup, and ice.  This is how I make mine:

Place 11 freshly picked mint leaves and 1 tablespoon of simple syrup in the bottom of a silver julep cup, and gently muddle to extract the oil from the mint leaves, taking care not to macerate the leaves.  Pour a small amount of Knob Creek bourbon into the cup, and swirl to dissolve the syrup.  Next, crush a few cups of ice, and discard the very small and very large pieces, leaving pieces approximately 1-2 cm in diameter.  Fill the julep cup with this ice, and pour in Knob Creek to the top (3-4 oz).  Taking care not to touch the frosted sides of the cup, agitate with a spoon to bring some syrup and mint to the top and to chill the mixture.  Garnish with a sprig of freshly picked mint.

As you can tell, it's a sacred moment.  If you don't believe me, believe the late Lt. Gen. S.B. Buckner, Jr. who said:

A mint julep is not a product of a formula. It is a ceremony and must be performed by a gentleman possessing a true sense of the artistic, a deep reverence for the ingredients and a proper appreciation of the occasion.

Or, just let the master sing:

Sip it, and dream.

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 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.