Tales of the Cocktail: Preemptive Strike (Part 4)

Continuing with the pre-Tales festivities, we check in with Ed Hamilton. Ed is a noted authority on rum, and has written about various sugar cane spirits for a number of magazines and newspapers. He has also written two books on the subject, and is probably most familiar to rum enthusiasts for his work at the Ministry of Rum website.

In a little over a month from now, Ed will be escorting us through the tasting /seminar "6 Rums You'll Probably Never Have the Opportunity to Taste Again." He didn't want to give too much away beforehand regarding these mysterious rums, but he did let a few things slip...

Is this the first time that a rum tasting of this kind has been held at Tales of the Cocktail? Or anywhere else?

Yes, to my knowledge.

Have any of the rums you're showcasing ever been bottled for sale before?

No.

What are some of the reasons these aren't made available for mass consumption?

Low production. There’s only a little bit of these rums around anywhere.

How much blood, sweat and tears went into rounding up all these great rums and getting them in the same place at the same time?

I’m lucky to have good relations with a lot of distilleries, so the hard part will be getting them transported to New Orleans.

How many of these (if any) have you sampled previously?

I’ve sampled rums from all of these distilleries before, but these will be unique as every barrel is different.

Would anyone in their right mind mix with any of these, or are they strictly intended for sipping?

I wouldn’t recommend mixing any of them, though any of them would make a great rum old fashioned.

"6 Rums You'll Probably Never Have the Opportunity to Taste Again" happens from 10:30 am to 12:00 pm July 21 in the Grand Ballroom South at the Royal Sonesta Hotel. Go here to purchase tickets.

Mystery Drink

Pirate's Punch

1 1/2 oz. Dark rum
3/4 oz. Light rum
1/2 oz. 151-proof rum
1 1/2 oz. Fresh pineapple juice
1/2 oz. Fresh orange juice
1/4 oz. Fresh lime juice
1/4 oz. Grenadine


Pour all ingredients into a cocktail shaker with ice. Shake and strain into a tall, ice-filled glass. Garnish with an orange slice and Maraschino cherry.

~ adapted from "Phillip Collier's Mixing New Orleans: Cocktails & Legends" by Jennifer Adams & Michael Terranova, 2007


I'd have thought that by now every drink's history would have been documented. Between the internet and the community of earnest, hardworking booze nerds who spend their days ferreting out the details of where a drink was first made and by whom (or why...or when...), I figured most cocktails had at least a vague backstory attached to them that could be scrounged up with a little effort. Even if a specific creator or date is unknown, many drinks can at least be traced to an appearance in a book or bar somewhere.

Turns out that some drinks may like to keep their pasts hidden.

For quite some time I've had the Pirate's Punch bookmarked in my copy of Mixing New Orleans, where it appears next to a brief piece on Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop, the landmark French Quarter watering hole. When I decided to take it for a test drive, one of the first things I did was to contact the author and see if she had any knowledge of its history. The redoubtable and accommodating Ms. Adams apologized and regretted to inform me she knew nothing of the drink other than it being served at Lafitte's. However, being that the Pirate's Punch is a rum-based concoction, she suggested I contact Martin Cate, the rum guru, proprietor of Smuggler's Cove and all-around swell guy for a possible lead.

His swift reply was, "Never heard of it."

Undeterred, I took my search online and did a cursory look-see. I quickly found out that if you type "Pirate's Punch" into the search engine of your choice, you will receive numerous recipes with that name, but bearing little resemblance to each other. You can even find ones that contain Hawaiian Punch as an ingredient. Vodka too.

Not much in the way of provenance though.

At this stage of the game I could have made the decision to turn this into a project and investigate further. As attractive as the prospect of playing Junior Sherlock was, I didn't want to harangue all my drink geek pals (which I do plenty of already), nor did I want to simply call up Lafitte's and pester some overworked member of the staff. Those people are very busy, and the last thing they need is some dork on the phone asking about their drinks so he can feel somewhat informed as he draws a funny picture.

So I decided that a little mystery is a good thing. If someone out there knows anything about this drink and wants to send it my way, I'm fine with it...but I'm also fine with sipping away and imagining some colorful origin story that may or may not have any connection to reality. Often the made-up stuff sounds better anyway.

Speaking of sipping, I won't abuse you with my usual clumsy tasting notes, but I will point out that the terms "dark rum" and "light rum" can be interpreted very widely, and you could spend the next week and a half experimenting with various ones to see which combos you like. For what it's worth, I found the combination of Ron Atlantico Private Cask and Oronoco made a crisp, citrus-forward version that still showcased the rum flavors well and would be great as a hot-weather drink. And any excuse to use the ol' Lemon Hart 151 is OK by me.

The Drinking Dead

Zombie a la Puerto Rico

3/4 oz. Unsweetened pineapple juice
3/4 oz. Papaya nectar
Juice of a sizable lime
3/4 Barspoon powdered sugar
1/3 oz. Apricot brandy
1 oz. 86-proof Puerto Rican white rum
2 oz. 86-proof Puerto Rican gold rum
1 oz. 90-proof Jamaican heavy-bodied rum

Shake all with ice and pour unstrained into Zombie glass, adding cubed ice to nearly fill. Garnish with sprig of mint, small square of pineapple, and 2 cherries skewered on toothpick set so it bridges the rim of the glass. Carefully pour on a shallow float of 151 proof rum. Sprinkle with powdered sugar and stick in a pair of straws.

~ adapted from "The Esquire Drink Book" edited by Frederic A. Birmingham, 1956


Along with its partner-in-crime the Mai Tai, the Zombie is the drink that likely comes to mind when thinking of classic tiki recipes. And like the Mai Tai, it has an entertaining origin story (regardless of whether it's true or not, it's good that any drink's genesis be established in a way that lends itself to enthusiastic retelling. And all the better if that tale of creation is in dispute...it provides a drink with an aura of mystique and gives booze nerds something to research).

And just like the Mai Tai, conclusively determining the origin of the Zombie has been undertaken by Jeff "Beachbum" Berry. You can read the whole tale in his book Sippin' Safari, wherein he not only details his efforts but provides several versions of the drink (his subsequent book, Beachbum Berry Remixed supplies us with even more variations, so if you want to drink something called a Zombie, you've got a bunch to choose from).

However, if you are even a casual tiki drink enthusiast, you're probably already familiar with the lore, so let's get to drinkin'...

The Zombie a la Puerto Rico is one of three Zombie recipes ( I told you there was a bunch of 'em!) that turn up in The Esquire Drink Book, a great old bar guide from the 50's that's one of my favorites to flip through. I've always wanted to make this version, because it follows the basic Zombie blueprint, but also puts an interesting twist or two on it.

The combo of Puerto Rican and Jamaican rums appears in several Zombie versions, and pineapple juice shows up often as well, so we can file those under "usual suspects." However, the apricot brandy and papaya nectar are two ingredients I've never seen in a Zombie before (unless I'd forgotten about them as a result of having too many Zombies). Do they work? I'd say definitely.

One of the things I consider a hallmark of a well-designed and executed tiki drink is complex, layered flavors that remain distinct and in balance. The Zombie a la Puerto Rico succeeds there. You get solid rum flavor as a foundation, but it doesn't come off hot or bludgeon your tongue with sense memories of college drinks that were 90% cheap rum and 10% something else.* Rather, the rums emerge as subtle and elemental, simultaneously powerful and delicate. The mellowness of the brandy and the almost-not-there character of the papaya pulls the whole thing in a drier direction, and the hefty, tart squirt of lime jousts perfectly with the pineapple, leveling everything off with the requisite tropical vibe (although if you like your drinks a little less bitey, I'd suggest dialing the lime juice back slightly).

But like many drinks that get scrounged up from books with brown pages, it's tough to get ahold of ALL the ingredients used at the time the drink was created. I didn't have any Puerto Rican rum that was exactly 86 proof, so I settled for some similar 80-proof Virgin Island products. I also didn't have any robust Jamaican that came in at 90 proof, so I used a fifty-fifty blend of Smith & Cross and Appleton Reserve that did the job just fine as far as I'm concerned.** I also tend to prefer using simple syrup over granular sugar in most drinks, so I just subbed a small splash of Demerara. Fortunately, the gauge on my vat of Lemon Hart 151 still reads "full", and my stash of Marie Brizard Apry saved the day brandy-wise.***

Oh, and I used a tiki mug instead of a Zombie glass. Because I love those goddamned things.




*These were a beloved staple of my college years. A post on this is forthcoming.

**I really want to try working Coruba into this recipe somehow, but until Pennsylvania lowers the force field it has erected to keep it from entering the state, this experiment will have to wait.

***In a nifty bit of timing, Camper from Alcademics kindly pointed out the Washington Post site just posted a piece on apricot brandy. You should take that as some kind of sign.

Boozin' and Infusin'

For several reasons, I rarely drink coffee. However, that doesn't mean I dismiss it entirely, as I tend to examine even things I don't particularly like for cocktail potential. Coffee has been used in a number of drinks for some time now, but what I wanted to do was find a way to simply use the beans themselves rather than actually make coffee and work that into the mix.

This dovetailed nicely with my desire to get involved in infusing spirits, which is something I'd been meaning to experiment with for a while. The conventional wisdom is that clear booze like gin and vodka tend to be the most infusion-friendly, but since I often choose not to heed wisdom, I thought I'd take a stab at infusing some rum.

The first step was swinging by my local coffee joint and asking for some nice, middle-of the-road coffee beans. The knowledgeable gent who runs the place suggested a medium-roast Costa Rican variety, and since I trust his expertise implicitly (especially since I know squat about coffee), I was off to the races. The next stage was finding some rum...

Fortunately I have a few bottles handy, so this step wasn't too hard. I decided to try several styles of rum, and found that the one that yielded the tastiest results was Zaya Gran Reserva. Zaya is a nice dark rum that falls on the sweeter end of the spectrum flavor-wise, and it matches up with coffee wonderfully, it turns out. This is not to say that white rums and gold rums won't work (they do), just that it may take a bit of fiddling and trial-and-error to get combos that work well for you.

So what does infusing a spirit entail? Well, it's basically dumping hunks of something flavorful into liquor so that the liquor will absorb the flavor of whatever you put in it. You can make it pretty complicated if you want, but it's a fundamentally simple procedure. Here's my method:

1) Put coffee beans in rum.

2) Wait 24 hours and take them out.

Yep, that's all I did. I used a ratio of 1:4 (for example, a quarter-cup of beans to a cup of rum), and that imparted a nice, solid coffee flavor without overwhelming the rum. I swirled the beans around a couple times and strained everything when I was done, but that was about it. Nothing really brain-breaking.

Flavor aside, I was also curious about whether any caffeine would transfer to the rum. After a brief consultation with a science-type guy I know, the answer he provided was "Yes." (He elaborated on this to a degree, but it's enough to know that it happens). I can verify this is true, because after sampling several infusions, I got tuned up pretty good. Experiencing both a caffeine AND an alcohol buzz simultaneously is a distinctive feeling, and now I have a glimpse into why the whole "vodka-and-Red Bull" phenomenon took off. Still, I don't recommend basing a cocktail around the concept of stimulants and depressants struggling for control of your nervous system. I seem to remember hearing something about that being bad from my 8th-grade health class, and if you can't trust the girl's gym teacher on matters of body chemistry, where can you turn?

Nonetheless, I encourage everyone who finds this idea appealing to do it. It's easy, and playing with combinations of different rums and coffee is big fun. Just bear in mind that the type of beans, the amount, and the length of time you leave them to soak will affect the end result. I found out that leaving them soak longer than 24 hours, regardless of rum type, will ratchet up the bitterness, and after a 2- or 3 -day soak, your rum will really have an edge on it. But if you like that sort of thing, then sally forth.

And of course, the whole point of this exercise was to have a nifty drink ingredient. Again, some experimentation was required, and it turned out the biggest obstacle I faced was using it judiciously enough so that everything didn't end up tasting like Kahlua. After trying several concepts and tinkering extensively, I put together something I can live with:

Java Wind

1 oz. Coffee-infused Zaya Gran Reserva rum
.75 oz. Brugal Anejo rum
.75 oz. Appleton V/X rum
.5 oz. Mandarine Napoleon
.5 oz. Demerara simple syrup
2.5 oz. Unsweetened pineapple juice
2 dashes Angostura bitters
3 drops Fee's Whiskey Barrel Aged bitters
6 drops Vanilla extract

Shake all with ice and strain into highball glass filled with crushed ice. Garnish with orange peel and pineapple leaf.


Now I know that there are some gadget freaks and gearhead types out there expressing concern that most infusion methods involve an appalling lack of hardware and/or engineering. If you are one of those people, I direct you here, where you can indulge your perverse cravings for pressurized gases and precision-tooled metal.

Anatomy of the Drink: Mai Tai

"I went and sat on Hunter's lap for awhile, and he ordered a variety of drinks, and then he said, "Mai Tais!"
~ Anjelica Huston, "Gonzo: The Life of Hunter S. Thompson"

"A Mai Tai, made properly, is strong enough to put permanent fissures in a fat man's brain, yet delicate enough to make his girlfriend try to conjugate verbs with her thighs. The ingredients might come from the Caribbean. The South Pacific might have made it famous. But the Mai Tai comes from California and is so by-God American that any bartender who can't make it should be shot for treason."
~ Joe Bob Briggs, "The Great Mai Tai Hunt"

"They're lethal."
~ Richard Nixon



The Mai Tai is one of a very small category of drinks I call "bulletproof." That is, you can give a drink of this type to virtually anyone and they'll like it. It's not easy to find a drink that appeals to almost everybody, yet the Mai Tai pulls it off. Even people who hate rum admit that it's pretty darn good.

Universally beloved drinks usually have a history, and the Mai Tai is no exception. However, I will not be dealing with that here, since Mai Tai lore has been well-documented elsewhere. If you find yourself craving the details of how this remarkable concoction came about, I suggest you start by checking out Beachbum Berry Remixed by Jeff Berry and And a Bottle of Rum: A History of the New World in Ten Cocktails by Wayne Curtis. Both books devote entire sections to the Mai Tai and its significant place in the cocktail pantheon. If you want to go pick those up now and read the relevant parts, go ahead. I'll wait.

Back? Okay, great. What I will be doing is taking a peek at the drink itself. Specifically, the nuts & bolts of what makes this drink so great (and worth your time and trouble to make correctly). Now at this point, anyone who browses boozeblogs at least semi-regularly is thinking, "Jesus, another cocktail geek is writing about the freakin' Mai Tai??!!" Guilty as charged. My pixelated and pickled pen pals in the cocktail blogging community have already done an exemplary job in examining it from all angles, and the best I can hope to do here is humbly toss out one or two tidbits that may enhance the existing collective analysis of this classic drink.

Plus, I made a drawing of a tiki doctor giving a Mai Tai a physical exam. That has to count for something at least.


First, a quick gander at what is generally considered the authentic, original recipe from 1944:

2 oz. Wray & nephew 17-year-old Jamaican rum
.5 oz. French Garnier Orgeat
.5 oz. Holland DeKuyper orange Curacao
.25 oz. Rock Candy Syrup
Juice from one fresh lime

Shake everything with ice and strain into a double old-fashioned glass full of crushed ice. Garnish with half the spent lime shell inside the drink and a sprig of fresh mint at the edge of the glass.


Looks fairly simple, right? There's just a few problems:

1) Wray & Nephew 17-year old rum hasn't existed for decades.

2) To the best of anyone's knowledge, Garnier orgeat can no longer be found either.

3) The current formulation of DeKuyper's orange Curacao is almost certainly not the same as it was back in '44.

4) What the hell is Rock Candy Syrup?

5) And while we're at it, what the hell is orgeat? And Curacao?

6) How much juice can I get from a lime?


If we want to make at least a somewhat legitimate attempt to approximate what this recipe tasted like, we have to make some concessions. Remember, the ability to compromise is a virtue, so let's keep the common good (making a tasty drink) in mind and soldier on.

Now here you may be thinking, "But wait...on vacation last Summer I had a Mai Tai at 'Benny's Beachfront Bazooka Bar' in Panama City, and it had pineapple juice and orange juice and red stuff and came in a hollowed-out cantaloupe with a live tree frog impaled on a sparkler as a garnish. This recipe leaves a bunch of stuff out!"

The short answer is no, it doesn't. For the sad tale of how the original Mai Tai was bastardized into oblivion almost from the moment of conception, consult the sources listed above. For now, back to the drink...

Like I mentioned above, concessions have to be made even if we're trying to re-create this drink as faithfully as possible. To that end, there are a number of modified recipes that do a good job of approximating the original, but since it's impossible to know exactly what it tasted like from top to bottom, we have to make some allowances. Lighten up- it's only a drink after all.

After extensive trial-and-error with more recipes than I can remember, this is the one I happen to like best:

1 oz. Appleton V/X rum
1 oz. St. James Royal Ambre rum
.5 oz. Marie Brizard orange Curacao
.5 oz. Orgeat
.75 oz. Fresh lime juice

Shake everything with ice and strain into a double old-fashioned glass full of crushed ice. Garnish with half the spent lime shell inside the drink and a sprig of fresh mint at the edge of the glass.

So let's break this sucker down...

RUM: The Mai Tai is a rum-based drink, and hardcore rum geeks did us a great service awhile back by suggesting that mixing equal parts aged Jamaican rum (the Appleton) and Martinique rum (the St. James) approximates the character and flavor of the long-gone 17-year old Wray & Nephew called for in the original. And for that we thank them. When you pair the right rums, the combination absolutely sings, and is the foundation of a worthwhile Mai Tai. In fact, the "One Jamaican, one Martinique" rule of thumb has proven so fun to follow, that it has compelled more than one Mai Tai enthusiast to tinker endlessly with 2-part rum combos in search of the "perfect" Mai Tai...which is really just the one you happen to like best. Follow their example and experiment on your own. There's a lot of rum out there, so don't be bashful.

ORANGE CURACAO: Orange Curacao is a liqueur usually made with bitter orange peel as the main flavor component, but formulas vary from brand to brand, some adding or substituting a variety of other ingredients and using different alcohols as a base. All you really need to know for making a good Mai Tai is to avoid the cheap stuff. How do you know what brands to steer clear of? A good place to start would be to check out the valiant efforts of this guy who has compiled more orange liqueur reviews than anyone I know of. I happen to prefer Marie Brizard for my Mai Tais, but as I said above, experiment until you find one you like!

(Oh, and in a pinch the blue stuff is fine, except that your Mai Tai will end up green.)


ORGEAT: Orgeat is a syrup flavored primarily with almonds and a small amount of orange flower water. Sometimes rose water is also added, but it's not crucial to the flavor. Orgeat is key in making a decent Mai Tai, and using a substandard one will sink an otherwise good drink. The general consensus is that making your own is ideal- It's nowhere near as difficult as it might sound, and I've found this recipe is simple and yields a wonderful-tasting syrup that is superior to any commercial product I've tried. However, if you don't feel like fiddling with all that, there's a person who can provide you with some that is the next best thing to homemade.

(Full disclosure: The labels for Trader Tiki syrups feature my dopey artwork, but don't let that influence your buying decision- The stuff on the inside of the bottle is top-notch.)

Also, people ask me all the time how to pronounce "orgeat", and since no two people I've ever asked say it the same way, I'm as stumped as they are. I've found that pronouncing it "almond syrup" usually gets the job done.

ROCK CANDY SYRUP: This is essentially simple syrup (sugar and water heated until the sugar dissolves). "Rock Candy Syrup" is the name Trader Vic's sells it under, but you can make your own simple syrup easily by combining sugar and water in varying ratios (1:1, 2:1, and so on). I use Demerara sugar because of the depth of flavor it adds, but since the Mai Tai recipe I like omits the .25 oz. simple syrup, I save it for other drinks. But if your Mai Tai needs a little sweetening, fire away!

LIME JUICE: It's been said a thousand times already, but bears repeating: Use fresh lime juice. That means buying fresh limes, cutting 'em open and squeezing out the juice by whatever means you prefer. And since limes can vary widely in size and juice content, I've found that .75 oz. is a nice amount regardless of how stingy or forthcoming your limes may be. Just remember- the little blast of citrus acidity and tartness the lime juice provides is another key component in a Mai Tai, so always use fresh-squeezed. Or the ghost of Vic Bergeron will angrily take up residence in your liquor cabinet and mock you viciously.

GLASS: The Mai Tai is served in a double old-fashioned glass. Why? Because Vic said so, that's why. Aside from that, a double-old-fashioned glass holds the liquid, a pile of crushed ice, a half a lime shell and a mint sprig perfectly. I admit to using a variety of tiki mugs for my Mai Tais from time to time, but that's no crime given their thematic harmony with the beverage in question. Remember: learn the rules before you break them.

ICE: Get hard, clean ice cubes and crush 'em. Put them in a hand-cranked crusher, wrap them in a towel and whack it with a rolling pin, throw them in the blender, use a Lewis bag and mallet, whatever...just pick a method that works for you and crush that ice. Then dump it in your glass where it will await the rich, amber embrace of your about-to-be-poured Mai Tai. Just make sure to leave a few cubes unmolested for shaking.

GARNISH: Hopefully you didn't immediately whisk one of your lime halves into the trash after juicing. If so, pull it out of the trash and place it into your drink. Just kidding. Take your clean, freshly-juiced half-shell and gently push it into the drink so it nestles regally amongst the sparkling ice and alluring liquid. Then get a healthy, robust sprig of mint and slap it a few times in the palm of your hand to release the minty essence. Slide it into the drink and admire your handiwork.

Lots of people like to use the Mai Tai as a blank canvas for their inner Bob Ross. This is fine, and given that the Mai Tai is a tiki drink, flowers, powdered sugar, orange peel sculptures and other ephemera aren't beyond the pale. I'd never deter you from using all the happy little trees you like, but I have an affinity for the minimalism inherent in a simple lime shell and mint sprig.

A quick note about straws- some people like 'em, some don't. Not using a straw gets the mint right up in your face and adds the aromatic component of the garnish. Conversely, using a straw keeps your moustache out of the drink. Your call.

Assuming you've followed at least some of the suggestions above and assembled your Mai Tai with care and diligence, you've got a bulletproof cocktail. Enjoy it with friends or just shovel down a few while watching Magnum P.I. reruns. It works either way.



And for those of you who need more Mai Tai mojo, here's a few other places online that have devoted considerable time & energy to examining this fine drink...

SLOSHED!

The Pegu Blog

The Pegu Blog strikes again!

Looka!

Kaiser Penguin

Chip & Andy's Universe

Cask Strength

Cincinnati Cocktails

The Un-Review: Spiced Rum Summit (Pt. 3)

It' s been a while since the last post, but rest assured that during that interval I was not idle. In fact, I was furiously crisscrossing the globe via my custom-designed jetpack. Why was I doing this? To scrounge up several more spiced rums to sample and evaluate, just like I did in part one and part two.

But enough chatter. On with the booze...

- Blackheart Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Yes (pirate, scroll)

Overall Packaging Coolness: Medium/High. Ordinary clear glass bottle with a very cool parchment-type label depicting a sexy lady pirate painted in a retro pin-up style. It's a nice, fun design that puts a cheeky twist on the pirate theme that has become the standard for many spiced rums.

Proof: 93

Spice-itude: Low/Medium. Mostly vanilla with a bit of caramel and an odd artificial taste that is hard to identify.

Coke Compatibility: Medium. Works somewhat well with Coke, and mixing it takes some of the edge off. The overall impression is that it's tasty initially, but the drink ends up being a tad too sweet and artificial-tasting.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Low/Medium. The label gets cred for the vintage pin-up, but the rum itself is lacking.

Another Round Likelihood: Medium. (But only with Coke or another mixer)

Overall Assessment: Aside from the label it's not terribly noteworthy, but you could do worse. Comparable to a mid-level rum dosed with vanilla extract. If you happen to trip across some, throw a splash in some Coke and call it even.

- RedRum VooDoo Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: No

Overall Packaging Coolness: Medium. Wide-shouldered, vaguely coffin-shaped clear bottle with label bearing a bamboo motif and stylized tiki in gold foil (And as we've established, gold foil equals class) Setting aside the fact that there isn't a direct relationship between tiki and Voodoo (as far as I can tell), the general impression is one of nonthreatening exotica, so it follows suit with most other spiced rums' packaging.

Proof: 70

Spice-itude: Low. Faint hints of vanilla, butterscotch and cherry, but not much spice bite to speak of. It's borderline over-sweet but startlingly smooth and can be easily sipped on its own.

Coke Compatibility: Low. Much like some other spiced rums, VooDoo seems to make the Coke simply taste like a flavored variety (in this case, cherry/butterscotch) when mixed. It also leaves a stubborn aftertaste.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Low. The "party time!" bottle design plus the lack of edge and flavor would make it more at home in a frat guy's backpack than in the grimy mitts of a flamboyant badass.

Another Round Likelihood: Low/Medium. If I was specifically in the mood for a rum without an aggressive alcohol OR spice zing AND on the sweeter end of the spectrum, then I might opt for a second round.

Overall Assessment: A rum with training wheels? The perfect brand for someone who doesn't like rum? A good choice for those who find Captain Morgan too demanding? All are probably true.

Speaking of the good captain...

- Captain Morgan Original Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Sure. This is the iconic label design that launched the whole idea that pirates = spiced rum. It also launched a whole slew of imitators. I guess if a mischievous-looking, brightly-attired pirate can sell one rum, it can sell a bunch of other ones too.

Overall Packaging Coolness: Medium. Standard clear bottle with a label showing a jolly pirate standin- oh, screw it. You all know what it looks like.

Proof: 70

Spice-itude: Low/Medium. For being arguably the best-known example of the category, it's surprisingly mild spice-wise. Not bad...just not remarkable in any way. The Budweiser of spiced rum.

Coke Compatibility: Since there are approximately 18,000,000 Rum & Cokes made with Captain Morgan every day, I think we can all agree that it works and move on.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: I don't know why this didn't occur to me sooner, but I'm wondering if a flamboyant badass presented with his/her likeness on a bottle of booze would think it to be the Ultimate Expression of Badassery or merely a corny, pitiful transgression. I'll get back to you after I've given this some more thought.

Another Round Likelihood: Okay, why not? (But only with Coke)

Overall Assessment: Honestly, it really doesn't matter what I write here. If you currently buy the Captain, you'll keep buying it. If you don't currently buy it, you're probably not gonna start.

- Barbarossa Spiced Rum -

(I should note here that this product is identical to "Calico Jack's Bonney's Best Spiced Rum" except for a minor change to the label and a lower proof.)

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Yes (scroll, boat)

Overall Packaging Coolness: Same as the "Bonney's Best" (reviewed here.).

Proof: 42

Spice-itude: Same as Bonney's, but even less so (if that's possible)

Coke Compatability: Making a Rum & Coke with this is not so much, "I'm having a Rum & Coke" as it is, "My glass of Coke tastes funny."

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: You've gotta be kidding.

Another Round Likelihood: Nope.

Overall Assessment: I'm not sure which is the case, but either Anne Bonney found some weak-ass rum and beefed it up, or this Barbarossa guy watered down an already underpowered product.

- Whaler's Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Yes (boat)

Overall Packaging Coolness: Low. Squat, clear bottle with minimal label showing an old-time sailing ship (presumably a whaling vessel). Combined with the bright orange neck wrapper, the overall effect is akin to a glass bowling pin on a hunting trip.

Proof: 70

Spice-itude: Low. Difficult to pick out any specific spice flavors, but there is an unsettling taste I would describe as "buttery plastic" that tends to linger.

Coke Compatibility: Medium. Works surprisingly well in a Rum & Coke, but I wish it would cut through a bit more...it tends to get lost. Also, it imparts a strange, vaguely orange flavor, which is a plus if you like orange in your Rum & Cokes.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Low. Although the bottle shape makes it ideal to grab in a bar fight and break over someone's head.

Another Round Likelihood: Medium (But only mixed. And I'd want a heckuva lot of lime juice.)

Overall Assessment: Not the worst rum I've had, but I doubt I'd make a point of seeking it out.

Bonus item: There is a recipe on the back of the bottle for a drink called "Whale's Breath." I'm still undecided as to whether including a drink with that name will help or hinder sales.

A Bibulous Bibliography: Beachbum Berry Remixed

A while ago I wrote about a book that has a permanent place next to all my shakers, stirrers, bottles and glasses: Vintage Spirits & Forgotten Cocktails. Occupying an adjacent piece of real estate are the various books authored by Jeff "Beachbum" Berry. (If my bookshelf was an actual neighborhood, these would be the guys who are always out the front lawn, drink in hand, starting impromptu block parties).

The books in question, Sippin' Safari, Grog Log and Intoxica! are the definitive bibles of tiki/faux-tropical drink-making and history, and any half-aware cocktailian owns 'em. As for the author himself, there's not much I can add that hasn't already been documented elsewhere. Suffice it to say that Berry's impact on the tiki drink landscape can't underestimated- if it weren't for him, we'd all be buying powdered Mai Tai mix and drinking the equivalent of rum Slurpees.

So yeah, the guy pretty much single-handedly saved classic tiki drinks from being lost forever. No small feat, which is why you should have at least one of his books behind your bar at all times. And if you had to limit yourself to only one, the book I'd recommend conveniently just came out last week: Beachbum Berry Remixed.

Don't worry- I'm not going to do a full-on book review here. This is because:

1) There are going to be a ton of better-written ones appearing in the coming weeks.

2) When I write big, long posts it really cuts into my drinking time.

So the here's the scoop: Beachbum Berry Remixed combines the info from Grog Log and Intoxica! and wraps it all up with a boatload of full-color photos and illustrations. You get recipes, you get history, you get anecdotes, and you get useful facts on ingredients, including brand recommendations and how to make some things at home (if you're so inclined).

More importantly, there's new stuff. BBR isn't a barely-disguised attempt to re-package existing material like some lame greatest hits collection. The Bum has provided a bunch of new recipes (both his own and newly-unearthed ones), and there's also fresh background material on people, places and potions sprinkled throughout.

I'd also be remiss if I didn't mention there's an entire section containing new original recipes by drink writers, cocktail experts, bartenders, and people who play with booze and then blab about it online (a.k.a. bloggers). If you're the kind of person who travels the boozeblog circuit, you'll notice some familiar names, as there are contributions by this guy, this guy, this guy, this guy (who, by the way, is attempting to make every single drink in the book), and yours truly (As with my appearance in Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, I've yet again found myself among people far more knowledgeable and experienced than myself. Nonetheless, I'm extremely flattered).

Anyway, if you're still reading this, stop now and go buy a copy of Beachbum Berry Remixed from your favorite purveyor of mashed-up trees and ink. Then make yourself a drink from it. One of my favorites is...



Zombie (midcentury version)*

1 oz. fresh lime juice
1 oz. fresh lemon juice
1 oz. unsweetened pineapple juice
1 oz. passion fruit syrup
1 oz. light Puerto Rican rum
1 oz. gold Puerto Rican rum
1 oz. lemon Hart 151-proof Demerara rum
1 tsp. Demerara sugar syrup
1 dash Angostura bitters

Shake well with lots of crushed ice and pour into a tall glass.** Garnish with a mint sprig.





* people who like this incarnation of the Zombie (like me) take considerable guff from those who prefer the other versions. Whether this is due to its hazy provenance, less-intensive rum profile or inclusion of passion fruit syrup remains to be conclusively determined. Regardless, I'm sticking to my guns.

** Because I'm a colossal nerd and take this stuff way too seriously, I like to shake with a few large ice cubes and strain into a glass filled with crushed ice. Tomato, tomahto.


UPDATE: I forgot to mention that the Grogalizer has been updated and is fully operational! If you want to know what recipes from any of Jeff Berry's books you can make based on what currently resides on your liquor shelf, then the Grogalizer is what you need. Get over there and start mixing!

Potable Pariahs: Midori

There are certain products in the pantheon of drink that are almost universally reviled by cocktail geeks, liquor snobs and discerning booze enthusiasts alike. These are products considered such egregious affronts to good drinking that simply uttering their name in the presence of discriminating drunks invites a fusillade of sneers and snickers.

As I've mentioned before, these perennial targets of booze nerd derision hold a strange fascination for me. I have a compelling, perverse need to somehow redeem these disreputable tipples, and the deeper the antipathy toward a given product is, the more attractive the prospect of salvaging it becomes.

So I began compiling a list of liquors that exist almost solely as punchlines among people who fancy themselves sophisticated swillers. I've labeled them "Potable Pariahs", and from time to time I'll trot one out here and take a gander. I promise nothing, but perhaps simply engaging in the act of reassessing a much-maligned product may grant it a small measure of dignity and redemption.

Or we could just find out that it's as crappy as everyone says it is.

Up first: Midori!


What is it?

Midori is a sweet, honeydew melon-flavored liqueur that is a vivid green color and comes in a distinctively-shaped textured bottle.


Why does it suck?

According to The Ultimate Book of Cocktails , Midori was "an instant hit" when it was introduced in 1978, so apparently somebody liked it. Its Wikipedia listing indicates its launch party took place at Studio 54, which seems entirely appropriate, because this stuff is pretty much the 70's in a bottle (insert your own observations about the relationship between cocaine use and subpar spirits here)

The two main indictments against it appear to be its color and taste. Color-wise, this stuff is greener than a recycling bin full of leprechauns. But I suppose if you use the Japanese word for "green" as the name of your product you really want to drive the point home, visually speaking (As if it really needed to be said, the label indicates in large print that Midori is artificially colored.)

In any case, Midori (much like blue curacao) probably bears at least a nominal responsibility for the rash of oversweet drinks that came in OSHA-certified hues in the late 70's and 80's...and that alone is enough to make the cocktail cognoscenti cringe.

Flavor-wise, I'm not certain that "honeydew melon" is really an accurate descriptor for Midori. I'm inclined toward "non-specific Jolly Rancher crossed with cough syrup" if I had to put my finger on it. It's definitely not the worst thing I've tasted by far, but it does have a decidedly synthetic quality that is hard to ignore. Also, this stuff just screams out to be mixed...I can't imagine anyone would want to just drink it straight.


How can we fix it?

Since it's so crushingly sweet, my instinct is to savagely bludgeon it into submission with something sour. Not a bad approach, but what I'm looking to do is actually retain some of the signature "melon" flavor while knocking down the sugar.

Employing my usual slapdash trial-and-error method (guided gently by whatever dubious intuition toward these things I can muster), I discovered that cachaca pairs pretty well with Midori in a 2-1 ratio, so with my base spirit in place, I chose lemon as the sour component. It seemed to do the trick, and while I generally like to double-strain my citrus in "up" drinks, I enjoy the textural quality of some pulp in this one. A fat dash of Peychaud's and some ginger for garnish brought it all home, so I called it a day. The only thing left to do was name it, and how could I not be inspired by its delightful radioactive green color?


Banner Cocktail

2 oz. Cachaca (Leblon*)
1 oz. Midori
.75 oz. fresh lemon juice
1 dash Peychaud's bitters

Shake everything with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a long, thin slice of fresh ginger.


Can we consider Midori redeemed? It appears that if used judiciously, it can impart a unique, offbeat flavor to a drink. However, I doubt it will be able to overcome its perception as a novelty product and be embraced by serious hooch nerds anytime soon. But it's been around for over 30 years, so I don't think the manufacturer is sweating- There's apparently a big market for green drinks out there. Viva La Verde!





*Although my go-to brands of cachaca are Fazenda Mae de Ouro, Boca Loca, and Pitu,(depending on the drink) I've discovered that Leblon really works well in this recipe.

The Lime In Winter

Embassy

.75 oz. Brandy (I used Martell VSOP)
.75 oz. Cointreau
.75 oz. Jamaican rum (I used Appleton V/X)
Juice of one lime, strained*
1 dash Angostura bitters


Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker with cracked ice. Shake well, strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with a twist of lime.


~ from "Cocktail Hour" by Susan Waggoner and Robert Markel


Bring on the citrus! That's often my rallying cry this time of year, when thick snow covers everything, the temps plunge, and colds are flourishing (at least here in the Liquor Lab). Don't be stingy with our friend vitamin C- apply it liberally and aggressively.

My weapon of choice right now is the lime, and it's used to good effect in the Embassy, named after the Embassy Club, a speakeasy noteworthy for its Old Hollywood clientele. Aside from a decent belt of lime juice, the drink serves up healthy portions of three quality boozes, which combine nicely into a robust and sophisticated whole. It's got an unmistakable vintage taste...tart and punchy while stopping short of something that would come out of a juice box. It's both potent and smooth, and one of the best excuses to exsanguinate a lime I can think of.

Speaking of which, since I try to buy limes in bulk whenever possible (as I've noted before, I can be a cheap SOB), it's the citrus I tend to have on hand most often...mainly because the drinks I tend to like use it more often than lemon, grapefruit, etc. Aside from slaughtering huge numbers of them to make falernum, I'm always chasing the little green bastards around for one reason or another (even it's just for a nice garnish).

Since I'm always looking for an excuse to brighten my day with a little lime, lemme know what your favorite use for it is. (Except for you Corona drinkers- Ruining a perfectly good lime slice by drowning it in bad beer is shameful. Now go to your room and think about what you've done.)



*I find that the limes I use yield approximately 3/4 oz. of juice, which makes this recipe one of those easy-to-remember ones with equal proportions of the main ingredients. You're welcome.

The Un-Review: Spiced Rum Summit (Pt. 2)

Continuing my exploration into Things I Am Profoundly Unqualified To Do, (in this case, discussing the relative merits of specific liquor brands), I put five more spiced rums under the microscope. Join me, won't you?

- Kilo Kai Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: No (But it does have a Jolly Roger-esque emblem, so it gets an honorary mention)

Overall Packaging Coolness: Medium/High. Minimalist design with smoked, nearly-opaque bottle emblazoned with a stylized skull-and-crossbones logo and small paper label. There is also a thin strip of high-friction tape around the neck of the bottle that I guess helps you maintain your grip if you're pouring drinks while snowboarding or participating in a mixed-martial-arts tournament.

Proof: 70

Spice-itude: Medium. Vanilla & cherry flavors come through most prominently, and there's a buttery tone overall. Fine to sip straight, but it's kind of limp on its own. This stuff is clearly meant to be mixed.

Coke Compatibility: Medium. It syncs up with the Coke seamlessly, but rather than both standing out AND cooperating flavor-wise (what I believe a good "Rum & Coke rum" should do), it sort of just amplifies the existing Coke flavors without adding anything new.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Medium. The bottle design is slick and edgy-looking, but maybe a wee bit too trendy/clubby for a Flamboyant Badass to fully embrace. Unless we're talking about the future... This is totally the rum that Aeon Flux or a cybernetically-enhanced Hong Kong gangster would drink.

Another Round Likelihood: Low. (Rum & Coke that is...but I definitely will be trying it in other applications)

Overall Assessment: I like this stuff a lot- just not necessarily in traditional rum roles. I tend to think of it as less of a true rum and more of its own thing entirely...almost like a rum liqueur that would really shine as a flavoring element rather than a base spirit. Lots of mad-scientist potential.

- Old New Orleans Cajun Spiced Lousiana Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: No

Overall Packaging Coolness: Low. Standard bottle with restrained, text-only label is very distinctive and well-designed, but says "classy" rather than "cool."

Proof: 80

Spice-itude: High. Plenty of aggressive spice goodness without being overly sweet or having any one flavor dominate. A nice medley of flavors makes this great to enjoy by itself.

Coke Compatibility: Medium/High. Rum character tends to retreat, leaving the spice as a residual element detectable in & around the Coke. You could definitely do worse.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Low/ Medium. I can envision the blood-red label catching the eye of a Flamboyant Badass in mid-ransack, but the smoothness and spice-forward flavor profile tames the bite that a true F.B. would probably be looking for.

Another Round Likelihood: High (Only if I'm having it straight...mixing it with Coke verges on creating a liquid cookie)

Overall Assessment: Superb balance between spice and "real rum" flavors. Manages to walk the line without sacrificing spiciness OR conventional rum taste.

- Sailor Jerry Spiced Navy Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: No (But there is an anchor printed on the cap as a nod to seafaring themes. Besides, it's called "Sailor Jerry", so nautical adventure is pretty much implied.)

Overall Packaging Coolness: Medium. Standard bottle with label bearing an old-school-style tattoo of a hula girl and a smattering of text. Overall effect is minimal, vintage, and slightly seedy.

Proof: 92

Spice-itude: Medium. Spice is evident, but takes a back seat to the straightforward rum flavor. The slight overproof heat overshadows the spiciness a bit, leaving a slight caramel tinge most noticeably.

Coke Compatibility: Medium. Fades to the background except for caramel & vanilla flavors....sort of makes the Coke taste like Vanilla Coke rather than adding a rum aspect.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Medium/High. Classic yet irreverent packaging combined with no-nonsense contents would likely put this in the loot sack or footlocker of any given Flamboyant Badass.

Another Round Likelihood: High (On its own. Not so much in a Rum & Coke)

Overall Assessment: Drink it straight. And if doing so compels you to get a tattoo, at least make it a good one.

- Admiral Nelson's Premium Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Yes (boat, map). Admiral Nelson is also featured prominently, but since he was technically not a pirate, it doesn't count.

Overall Packaging Coolness: Low. Standard bottle with spiced rum label trifecta of map/boat/adventurous nautical personality...which is fine, except the overall effect is rather chintzy-looking. As an artist, I definitely appreciate the use of an illustration, but in this case the character depicted looks like a strange hybrid of Gordon Lightfoot and Eric Stoltz. Doesn't really do it for me.

Proof: 70

Spice-itude: Low. What little spice is detectable is chemical-tasting, and the only single flavor I can pick out is something akin to artificial vanilla.

Coke Compatability: Low. It doesn't outright clash with the Coke, but seems to sit on top of it rather than merge. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it does give the drink a slightly synthetic, medicinal tang.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Low. Like Castillo, it comes in a 1-liter bottle, so you get some bonus hooch to fuel your badassery. Aside from that, there's not much that would garner approval from a Flamboyant Badass.

Another Round Likelihood: Low.

Overall Assessment: I remain unconvinced.

- Calico Jack: Bonney's Best Spice Flavored Rum -

(No image available, but it's pretty much identical to Calico Jack)

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Yes (scroll, boat)

Overall Packaging Coolness: Medium. Standard bottle with parchment-ish label showing a detailed illustration of a ship flying the Jolly Roger in a tropical setting. The Jolly Roger reappears on the back label, and there's lots of gold foil accents throughout (That means extra-classy, folks!)

Proof: 70

Spice-itude: Low. Hard to pick out any specific flavors. Very mild with just a touch of spice...end result is innocuous and bland.

Coke Compatibility: Low. Just sort of makes the Coke taste sweeter without bringing any noticeable rum component.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Low. Rum itself needs to be a bit coarser, and bottle needs to be less fussy if it wants to be considered solid Flamboyant Badass material.

Another Round Likelihood: Medium (only if drunk straight)

Overall Assessment: Not particularly remarkable in any way, but not necessarily bad either. This what you'd have if Kraft made rum.

Two additional items of interest:

1) I'm not 100% certain what the name of this product actually is. There are three separate labels of varying size on the bottle, and one reads, "Calico Jack: Bonney's Best Spice Flavored Rum", the second reads, "Calico Jack Premium Spice Flavored Rum" and the third simply says, Premium Spiced." Name issues aside, at least we know there's spice involved.

2) The label on the back of the bottle contains a brief, colorful bit of copy informing us that Calico Jack was "Pillaging his way through the West Indies with his famous female cohorts Anne Bonney and Mary Read..." This is worth noting, because it means that Calico Jack may have the distinction of being the first guy to use cheap rum and a boat to facilitate a threesome.


More on the way soon!

The Un-Review: Spiced Rum Summit (Pt.1)

Why spiced rum?

1) Because rum snobs and cocktail geeks hate the stuff. And as we've already established, I have a perverse compulsion to embrace liquor that everybody else writes off. Also, I have a sneaking suspicion that a lot of the people who publicly sneer at spiced rum are closet consumers. I mean, someone's buying all that Captain Morgan.

2) Because some of it is perfectly decent, and I'm loathe to dismiss an entire category of spirits without at least trying a few of 'em.

3) Because I've gone to great lengths to avoid doing product reviews and I love nothing more than contradicting myself. And if I'm going to completely go back on my word, I'm going to try to be original about it, since as far as I know , no one has done a roundup of spiced rum. (But I didn't really check...it's just a hunch. I honestly didn't have time to research this, since I was busy drinking a truckload of rum).

A note on this last point: The following should in no way be considered "reviews" in the conventional sense. For example, I will not be discussing things like price of a product, detailing how it was made, or recommending whether you should buy it or not. I will also be largely avoiding tasting notes. If you want someone to tell you about stuff like "woody undertones" and "citrusy top notes" I'm not your guy. Even though I clumsily attempt to do it from time to time, I don't consider it my strong suit.

Therefore, I will be adopting the term that bartender extraordinaire Fred Sarkis used to describe my recent discussion of his fine joint Embury: "Un-review"

So what will I be discussing?

In the interest of thumbing my nose at the traditional review process, I have come up with a several categories which are geared toward spiced rum. They are:

- Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?
Is there a pirate, boat, map or scroll on the label?
- Overall Packaging Coolness
How sweet-looking is the bottle?
- Proof
Okay, obviously not unique to spiced rum, but you still need to know how much armor your liver will need.
- Spice-itude
How well does the product embody "spiced rum" vs. just "rum"?
- Coke Compatibility
Does the product work well in a Rum & Coke?
- Flamboyant Badass Quotient
Is the product something that can be envisioned being drunk by a Flamboyant Badass (i.e. a pirate)
- Another Round Likelihood
Do I want to drink more of this?
- Overall Assessment
Pretty self-explanatory, I think.

A few more notes, disclaimers, and pre-emptive ass-covering maneuvers:

1) My rigorous, scientifically sound tasting process consisted of me: A) sipping a shot or so of the rum neat in a rocks glass. B) making a Rum & Coke with it*- rocks glass, ice, no lime. C) taking notes. I also only tasted one rum per day.

2) The list of rums I will be discussing is by no means exhaustive. As nice as it would be to get my hands on every single spiced rum that's out there, we must remember that I live in Pennsylvania, so I'm lucky if I can find anything other than vodka, Jack Daniels and peppermint schnapps.

3) What I do have on hand is a combination of products that I bought myself, was provided by a brand directly, or given to me by fellow booze nerds. My opinions on a given product are not influenced in any way by the circumstances under which it was obtained. (In other words, I'm not saying I like something just because it was free).

On with the show...

- Spiced Jack #94 Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Yes (scroll)

Overall Packaging Coolness: Medium. Has a neat label with a fake scroll/parchment motif emblazoned with a winged skull wearing a military hat and aviator's glasses. It's what I imagine Hunter S. Thompson would look like if he was undead and in the Air Force. The bottle is oddly shaped and falls somewhere between a an ancient urn and your grandmothers perfume spritzer.

Proof: 94

Spice-itude: Low. Mostly tastes of vanilla, with a noticeable alcohol burn and disturbing sweetness. Strange artificial taste on the finish.

Coke Compatibility: Low. It almost disappears entirely into the Coke, save for the alcohol...it's more like drinking a Vodka & Coke.
Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Medium. The scary label is offset by the foo-foo bottle shape.

Another Round Likelihood: Low

Overall Assessment: Not terribly rum-like. Pass.

- Original Trader Vic's Private Selection Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: No

Overall Packaging Coolness: Medium. Nicely-designed retro label, with the Trader Vic "mask and crossed weapons" emblem shown prominently. Looks like something you'd find while cleaning out the liquor cabinet at your great-uncle's vacation home. Plus, if you buy the 1.75 liter size, the handle makes it convenient to tie to your belt, leaving your hands free for swordfighting or rope-swinging.

Proof: 70

Spice-itude: Medium/High. Pretty punchy assortment of flavors. Vanilla most noticeable, but doesn't dominate.

Coke Compatibility: High. Makes an excellent Rum & Coke. The spice cuts through the sweetness of the Coke quite well.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Medium. It gets points for size (If you buy the 1.75 liter), and the Trader Vic connection, since Vic was definitely one of the original Flamboyant Badasses.

Another Round Likelihood: High

Overall Assessment: Good stuff.

- The Kraken Black Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Yes (boat)

Overall Packaging Coolness: High. 750 ml bottle with small jug-style ring handles on the neck. Label has an old-school illustration of a giant, bug-eyed octopus crushing a ship- pretty hardcore. It's evocative of something you'd see on the shelf of a 19th-century waterfront tavern...in a movie. The only thing this needs is a wax seal or palm leaf wrapping to put it over the top.

Proof: 94

Spice-itude: Medium. Enough sweet- & spiciness to enjoy sipping on its own, but it's got a nice burn that keeps it from going into candyland.

Coke Compatibility: Medium/High. Meshes almost too well. The overall flavors are extremely complementary, and if it were a lower proof, it would probably not punch through.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Medium/High. "Kraken Black Spiced Rum" sounds Flamboyantly Badass to be sure, and the fact that this stuff is nearly opaque gives it some intimidation factor.

Another Round Likelihood: High

Overall Assessment: Nice. Tastes like rum, and may be the only one so far that works better on its own than mixed.

- Castillo Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Yes (map)

Overall Packaging Coolness: Low. Safe, uninspired type treatment over old-timey map creates a look that verges on "discount brand."

Proof: 70

Spice-itude: Medium. lots of strong rum character with noticeable caramel. Could easily be sipped on its own...the most like a "real" rum out of this bunch.

Coke Compatibility: High. Not overly sweet. Manages to cut through while simultaneously melding extremely well with the Coke.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Low. But since it comes in a 1 liter bottle, a Flamboyant Badass would likely appreciate the extra 250 ml over the standard bottle.

Another Round Likelihood: High

Overall Assessment: Very much like a "regular" rum without sacrificing the spicy aspect. Thumbs-up.

- Lady Bligh Spiced Rum -

Pirate, Boat, Map or Scroll on the Label?: Yes (pirate, boat, map)

Overall Packaging Coolness: Low. The only bottle I found was the plastic, roughly flask-shaped style that is clearly intended for concealing in your clothing. The label depicts what is essentially a slight variation of the Captain Morgan label, except with a female character that looks like Julianna Margulies dressed as a theme park pirate.

Proof: 72.5

Spice-itude: Low. Has a cheap, hot taste overall, and a flavor I can describe only as "butterscotch cough syrup."

Coke Compatibility: Low. Despite having a decent amount of alcohol heat, it vanishes almost entirely...except for that synthetic butterscotch flavor that lingers on the finish.

Flamboyant Badass Quotient: Low. This is pretty much what the kids from Superbad would have grabbed in a desperate panic.

Another Round Likelihood: Low.

Overall Assessment: Pour it on your ice cream for an alcoholic dessert treat!

More to come...


UPDATE: Doug Winship from The Pegu Blog gave me a well-deserved 20 lashes with a wet noodle for forgetting to mention "International Talk Like a Pirate Day" when I originally posted this. Unfortunately, ITLaP has come and gone, but you should still scoot on over to his site and revel in a series of pirate-themed posts that will have you hankering for rum in epic quantities.

Seriously, the guy knows his pirate lore. He has "ship" in his name for goodness' sakes.

* I selected the Rum & Coke as the sample drink because 96.3% of all spiced rum is consumed in Rum & Cokes. However, this may or may not be true because I completely made up that statistic.

Save the Date...and Save the Whales!

If you haven't already seen a slew of other boozeblogs alerting us to the fact that tomorrow night (9/3) we celebrate the one-year anniversary of Thursday Drink Night, then here's the highlights:

~ TDN has been going on for a year, and we're celebrating!
~ There'll be a bunch of prizes awarded in a number of categories!
~ Jeff Berry and Martin Cate will stop by!
~ It's open to everyone, so don't be a wallflower!
~ Oh, and the theme is "tiki".


Speaking of tiki...

I've had this recipe kicking around for a while now. It came with a tiki mug I bought from the Queequeg Chapter of the Fraternal Order of Moai., which is an organization of fine, upstanding tiki freaks. I'd been meaning to make it for some time, and I finally rounded up most of the ingredients, so make it I did. Here's the recipe:

Queequeg's Harpoon

1 oz. Lemon Hart Demerara Rum (80 proof)
1 oz. Gosling's Black Seal rum
1 oz. Hurricane rum
.75 oz. lime juice
.75 oz. Queequeg's Blood*
.5 oz. simple syrup
.5 oz. club soda

Shake all (except club soda) w/ 8 oz. crushed ice. Pour into Queequeg MS Society mug. Add club soda. Garnish with cranberries and pineapple chunks on a bamboo spear. Repeat as necessary.

*Queequeg's Blood (cranberry syrup)

2 parts dried cranberries
1 part water
1 part cranberry juice (NOT from concentrate)
.5 part sugar
.5 part brown sugar
1 pinch whole cloves
1 three-inch cinnamon stick

Boil everything together at low heat, stirring constantly for 40 minutes. Let the mixture cool. Remove cinnamon stick. Blend mixture in blender until consistent. Strain multiple times through cheesecloth to remove particles. Bottle & enjoy!


Now the first problem I ran into was not having Hurricane rum, which is a small-batch, aged, slightly overproof gold rum that isn't exactly a commonplace item. Tiki guru extraordinaire Jeff Berry told me suitable substitutes would be something like a gold Puerto Rican (such as Bacardi 8) or amber Cruzan rum.

But because I like to ask people for advice and then not follow it, I subbed Old New Orleans Crystal rum and thought it worked fine. I also left out the club soda because it didn't really seem necessary.

The second problem I ran into is that even on paper, the "Queequeg's Blood" looks like a pain in the ass to make. I made it, and rest assured, it is. Plus, when I made it (using a "1 cup = 1 part" ratio), it yielded a paltry 3-4 oz. of liquid. So I came up with a recipe that's a lot less labor intensive, yields much more usable end product, and tastes the same in my opinion:


Queequeg's Blood (ver. 2.0)

1.5 cups dried cranberries
1.5 cups unsweetened cranberry juice
1 cup water
2 cups sugar
.5 cup brown sugar
15 whole cloves
2 three-inch cinnamon sticks

In a medium saucepan, bring everything to a boil, stirring until sugar is dissolved.. Lower heat, and simmer lightly for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Let cool, strain and bottle. Yields approx. 2.5 cups liquid.

So when all this tinkering was concluded, I ended up making this:


Queequeg's Harpoon (12" dance remix)

1 oz. Lemon Hart Demerara rum (80 proof)
1 oz. Gosling's Black Seal rum
1 oz. Old New Orleans Crystal rum
.75 oz. lime juice
.75 oz. Queequeg's Blood (ver. 2.0)
.5 oz. simple syrup

Shake everything with cracked ice and strain into double old-fashioned glass or tiki mug filled with crushed ice. Garnish with cranberries and pineapple chunks on a bamboo spear.


So instead of punching holes in an innocent sea creature, gather up your giggle water and make a few of these. If that still doesn't satisfy your bloodlust, there's always Deadliest Catch.

Cinco de Moai

According to the ads in the local free weekly paper, I’m supposed to be celebrating Cinco de Mayo somewhere that offers both Tequila and Mexican beer in colossal quantities for very reasonable prices. As appealing as I find stock photos of bikini-clad women with sombreros Photoshopped on them, I decided to ignore them and the ads they populate in favor of other diversions.

Diversion #1 was spending a chunk of Saturday afternoon watching the Kentucky Derby and some of the pre-race hype on TV. I don’t know squat about horses or why they like to run in circles, but it gave me an excuse to brush up on my Mint Julep technique.

Diversion #2 was using the Bourbon I had leftover from Diversion #1 to continue tinkering with a recipe I’ve been playing with for awhile. It’s a tiki-style concoction that features a conspicuous lack of rum*, but still (to me anyway) has the requisite “tiki taste.“


Bluegrass Blowgun

1.5 oz. Bourbon (I used Bulleit)
.75 oz. Agwa de Bolivia coca leaf liqueur
2 oz. unsweetened pineapple juice
.5 oz. simple syrup
.25 oz. cinnamon syrup
¼ tsp. Absinthe
2 dashes Angostura orange bitters

Shake with ice and strain into ice-filled double old-fashioned glass.** Garnish with orange wheel and any other tiki-themed paraphernalia that looks fun.


The secret weapon here is the Agwa, and I think it’s something that should be in every tiki drink enthusiast’s arsenal. It’s got a distinctive flavor- mellow, herbal, somewhat sweet, and with a borderline medicinal snap. It’s pleasing on it’s own, but it mixes so well it’s too much fun to not experiment with. Mr. Bali Hai over at Eye of the Goof apparently thought so too.

So even though I eschewed the fiesta crowd this year, I still think I should get some credit. Tiki drinks are technically south-of-the-border, right?



* I love rum…but I seem to have become enamored of rum-less tiki drinks lately.

** For bonus points, double the recipe and dump it into a Moai-shaped mug!

Sample Jamboree and the Perils of Naming Drinks

I periodically receive samples of liquor in the mail. The purveyors of these fine products kindly package them up, send them on their way, and presumably hope I’ll like them enough to mention them by name.

I’m happy to say that in one way or another, I‘ve enjoyed almost everything that has arrived on my doorstep. There’s the occasional clunker, but by and large, my usual reaction is one of enthusiasm- I’m almost always jazzed to make a drink using a new ingredient.

Sometimes a list of recipes is included with my bottle of whatever. I like to browse these suggestions to get a sense of what other folks deem suitable uses for the product, but for me, the real fun is looking at something I’ve never tried before and thinking, “Hmmmm…what can I make with THAT?”

I’ll spare you a description of the “process” I employ when attempting to come up with a new drink. It’s untidy, inconsistent, and gloriously unhampered by any discernible logic. Guided mostly by my dubious intuition concerning what flavors and textures might work well together, I shamble around the kitchen in an orgy of trial-and-error. And every once in awhile something emerges that doesn’t seem half bad.

So I’ve got my recipe, I’m ready to write about it somewhere, and then I run right up against the hardest part of the whole project:

Naming the damn thing.

On rare occasions the drink just sort of names itself. But most of the time I’m struggling to come up with a moniker that isn’t too long, too silly, or too obscure. I often try to imagine a scenario wherein I’d order the proposed-titled drink at a bar. Would I immediately cringe upon saying it? Would I stumble over a lengthy string of syllables? Would the barkeep wordlessly greet my request with a withering expression of confusion and contempt?

See, to my way of thinking the best drink names have snap. They’ve got character and intrigue. And under ideal circumstances they should both elicit curiosity and communicate something. Longer drink names can do this, but I particularly like the ones that embrace brevity. (think “Zombie” vs. “Long Island Iced Tea” and you’ll see where I’m going).

So when it comes time to name an original drink, I usually start off completely paralyzed, and slowly try to find some aspect of the drink to latch onto and use as a beachhead. Here’s an example:

I recently received samples of Kilo Kai rum and cherry Heering. After tasting the sweet-ish and spicy Kilo Kai, the Heering seemed the perfect thing to match it up with. I decided that putting some whiskey in the mix to dry it out and fortify it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad idea either. I added in some Zirbenz pine liqueur (I’ll discuss my pathological need to employ unpopular and/or difficult ingredients in a another post) and a wisp of bitters and I thought I was onto something.

After some slight tinkering with proportions and taste-testing, the Bamboo Babe suggested the final touch should be rimming the glass and garnishing with a fresh piece of ginger. She was right- the flavor and aroma was exactly what was called for.


1 oz. Kilo Kai rum
1 oz. cherry Heering
.75 oz. rye
.5 oz. Zirbenz
1 dash Fee's Whiskey Barrel bitters

Shake with ice and strain into cocktail glass. Rub rim of glass with thin piece of freshly-sliced ginger and float in drink.


So now I had a drink that I was happy with. All that was left was the dreaded naming. As I looked over this concoction I observed the lustrous reddish color, pondered the tropical aspect of the rum, the classic pedigree of the rye, and the final flourish of…ginger. It was obvious- I’d call it the “Ginger Grant.”*

Then, during a quick Google search to check a detail or two, I ran across this post.

Dammit. I guess it’s true what they say about all the good ones being taken. Anyone got any ideas?

UPDATE 7/15/09: after much deliberation, I have dubbed this concoction the "Red-headed Castaway." This is not to be confused with the infamous "Red-headed Slut", which was officially eulogized and laid to rest last week during Tales of the Cocktail 2009.



*This would be obvious only to anyone who is familiar with the classic sitcom Gilligan’s Island. Hard as it is for me to conceive that there might be someone who is not acquainted with the show, I realize given my advanced age that it may not be the universal cultural touchstone it once was.

Post-Christmas Post

Holly Jolly Roger

2 oz. Cruzan blackstrap rum
2 oz. spiced apple cider
½ oz. Torani hazelnut syrup
¼ tsp. absinthe (La Fee works well)


Combine everything in a shaker with ice. Shake well and strain into an ice-filled rocks glass. Garnish with a lime wedge.



I’m late to the party again. Normally I’d post about a Santa-inspired drink before the 25th of December, but all the holiday prep (and maybe a few parties) conspired to keep my productivity at staggeringly low levels this Yule.

But some good came of it. At one of the aforementioned parties I got to spring the above recipe on a group of unsuspecting revelers. They seemed to like it, so I figured it’d be worth reproducing here.

If you choose to make it, enjoy it while pondering why Santa Claus may just be a pirate.

At first glance, it may not seem that Santa Claus and pirates have much in common. But closer inspection reveals that the two share quite a bit more than initially meets the eye. Am I suggesting that a beloved holiday figure is barely any different than a bloodthirsty brigand? Certainly not. But I have noticed there are some startling parallels. I submit the following:

1) Beards. As anyone who has seen pirate movies can attest, buccaneers love beards. Santa’s got one too.

2) Swag. Any pirate worth his salt has a sack full of treasure somewhere. Kris Kringle is almost always depicted with bag of goodies as well.

3) Flamboyant clothing. Pirates are noted for dressing stylishly, and Santa is no slouch in that department either. With his bright red suit, flashy hat and leather accessories, he’d be right at home on board any privateer vessel. Speaking of vessels…

4) Mode of transport. Not only do pirates dress well, they travel in style too- Only the sleekest, speediest craft will do. And to top it off, these ships are bristling with weaponry. Not to be outdone, Father Christmas has a flying sleigh powered by magical livestock. No cannons, but who needs ’em when you can go airborne in seconds and outrun pretty much anything?

5) Crew. Pirates rarely work alone. Even the most resourceful scalliwag wouldn’t get far without a gang of like-minded mates along for backup. St. Nick has his crew also. Those li’l guys with the pointy hats and curly shoes may not go along on the mission, but they do all the invaluable preparations that allow The Man With The Bag to get things done.

6) Covert Operations. Pirates often commit their deeds undercover of night and with great speed and stealth. Santa has this down to a science, invading a staggering number of homes in a short amount of time, leaving nary a trace.

7) Headquarters. By necessity, pirates must choose remote, often difficult-to-access locations from which to stage their campaigns and store supplies. Likewise, the exact whereabouts of Santa’s base of operations is known to almost no one, and exists in a far-flung region that only the most intrepid soul would even attempt to find (and likely at great personal peril due to the harsh climate).

8) Grog. It’s not much of a leap from “Yo Ho Ho” to “Ho Ho Ho.” While there may not be documented evidence of Mr. Claus openly swigging from a rum bottle, I think his rosy cheeks and jolly demeanor suggest there’s more than hot chocolate in his mug.

In closing, I must stress the Santa/pirate correlation is purely speculative. In fact, there is ample evidence indicating that Santa Claus is a force for good, benevolently spreading both material wealth and goodwill with equal enthusiasm. Nonetheless, I recommend staying vigilant during the holidays. Brace yourself with strong drink if the situation warrants.

Lion's Tail/ Jasper's Jamaican Cocktail

Lion’s Tail

2 oz. Bourbon
½ oz. St. Elizabeth allspice dram
½ oz. Lime juice
1 dash Angostura bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

- Courtesy of the fine collective that is LUPEC Boston


One of my favorite things about the Web is that it grants people a means to share common, interests. Do you collect strange objects? Are you into obscure history? Have you spent weekends engaging in odd activities? Then there are probably sites, forums and chat rooms that cater to your area(s) of interest.

Me, I like playing with booze (and apparently writing about it too). Fortunately, there is a whole online community that does likewise, as evidenced by that big pile of links over on the right. I say “fortunately“, because without them, I’d pretty much be cooking up drinks in near-solitude, with no one to swap recipes with, compare notes, find out about new products, arrange get-togethers, etc. A man who just made his first Zombie and has no one to talk to about it is a sad thing indeed.

Which is why I try to read as many cocktail blogs as possible, as often as I can manage. Given how large and enthusiastic the online cocktail geek community is, it can be daunting. But even when I can only take a quick peek here and there, I always get a good glimpse into what my fellow booze nerds are up to…and come away learning something. At the very least my curiosity gets jump-started.

Such was the case a few days ago when I ran across the Lion’s Tail over at the LUPEC Boston site. The recipe caught my eye because:

a) it contained Bourbon, which I’ve been enjoying the heck out of lately.

b) it contained allspice dram, which I’ve been looking for an excuse to use whenever I can.

c) I couldn’t imagine what it would taste like, so I was definitely intrigued.

I thought, “This is what boozeblogging is about. Somebody puts up a drink recipe they like, and hopes someone else will try it and like it too.” (Granted, it’s not entirely what boozeblogging is about, but it’s one of the aspects I like best).

Once I stopped trying to imagine what the drink would taste like and actually made the darn thing, I liked it. It’s got a tartness that pokes you in the first sip or two, but gradually mellows. The allspice dram really puts its stamp on things, and strangely, the Bourbon felt like it almost disappeared. I don’t mean that in a bad way…it just seemed to react so smoothly with the other ingredients that it was as though it had become some nifty new flavor altogether.

In a nutshell, it’s very drinkable and I tip my hat to the LUPEC gals for making me aware of it. But the whole time I was sipping away, I kept thinking, “Why does this seem so familiar?”

I think it’s because one of the drinks I’ve been enjoying ever since discovering it at Tales of the Cocktail is “Jasper’s Jamaican Cocktail.” After reviewing the ingredients for both, JJC and the Lion’s Tail strike me as being pretty similar:

Lion’s Tail

2 oz. Bourbon
½ oz. St. Elizabeth allspice dram
½ oz. Lime juice
1 dash Angostura bitters


Jasper’s Jamaican Cocktail

1 ¼ oz. Cruzan Estate Dark Rum
½ oz. St. Elizabeth allspice dram
½ oz. Lime juice
½ teaspoon Fee Bros. Rock Candy syrup

They part company with regard to base spirit and their respective bitter/sweet angle, but otherwise I’d say they could at least use each other’s ID’s to get into a bar. The nice thing is, they are actually two different drinks, taste-wise. If you like your drinks a tad sweeter, I’d suggest going for Jasper. If you want a little more edge, The Lion’s Tail is probably up your alley.

But they’re both very good. I suggest you make one of each, and enjoy them while reading some blogs. Or better yet, make one of each and then POST on a blog- I need something to read.


Random Recommendation: Even though the recipe doesn’t call for it, the Lion’s Tail seems like it wouldn’t be half bad with a couple drops of Absinthe in it.