Kinda like a Negroni...kinda like a Manhattan...

The Boulevardier

1 ½ oz. Bourbon (I used Bulleit)
1 oz. Campari
1 oz. Sweet vermouth
Stir with ice in mixing glass and strain into cocktail glass. Garnish with orange slice, lemon twist, or cherry.

The other night I was gripped by a desire for Bourbon (I‘m usually gripped by a desire for gin or rum, but whisk(e)y has been clamoring for my attention with alarming frequency these days). I began searching for a suitable Bourbon-centric recipe, and struck gold with the March/April 2007 issue of Imbibe. In his column, the venerable Ted Haigh (a.k.a. Dr. Cocktail) details the history and composition of the Boulevardier with his usual top-notch skill...and I was sold.

I cracked the seal on a newly-purchased bottle of Bulleit, and dove in. As the Dr. notes in his column, this is basically a Negroni using Bourbon in place of gin. I’m a fan of the Negroni, so I figured I’d still be in safe territory once I made the swap.

When this drink settles in the glass it becomes a color I can only describe as “rosy-rust”- a truly beautiful hue that makes me think it needs to be on the cover of a cocktail guide asap (All you camera-slingers out there may want to make this one just for the opportunity to take a picture of it).

After a few decent sips got me well underway, I realized my overall impression was that this drink really tastes vintage. The ingredients pull together in a flavor combination that screams early-20th century (Haigh notes that the recipe first saw print in 1927). While definitely a whiskey-based recipe, the characteristic Bourbon flavor gets masked fairly well for the most part...the Campari and vermouth tag-team it, relegating it to an end note, revealing itself mainly on the finish.

I also realized about halfway through that this drink bears a striking resemblance to the Manhattan. The Campari lends it’s distinctive taste, but there’s still no hiding the tell-tale whiskey/sweet vermouth nucleus of the Manhattan.

So is the Boulevardier a Negroni with Bourbon instead of gin? Yes. Is it a Manhattan with Campari added? Sort of. (All the Manhattan purists will no doubt be gathering with pitchforks and torches as I type this).

Either way, it’s a great drink. And if it’s further incentive, it’s yet another drink I’d put in that category of “whiskey drinks for people who don’t like whiskey.” I used to be one of those people, and it didn’t take much to convert me. If I’d had a Boulevardier at a key moment, it would have taken even less.

UPDATE: I just realized that Paul over at the Cocktail Chronicles did a great write-up on this drink where he uses rye in place of Bourbon. Go check it out!

Japanese Caipirinha??

Caipirinha (standard recipe)

1.75 oz Cachaca
1/2 Fresh Lime
1 teaspoon superfine cane sugar

Cut ½ lime into thirds and muddle with the sugar in a rocks glass. Fill with ice cubes and add cachaca. Place mixing tin over glass, invert and shake well. Pour contents (do not strain) back into glass, and garnish with lime wheel.

(Like many cocktails, the Caipirinha’s ingredient proportions vary considerably depending on the recipe. It appears that most people adjust the amount of lime, sugar and cachaca to suit their taste. The above recipe is my favorite.)


Caipirinha (variation)

1 oz. Cachaca (I used Pitu)
1 oz. Sake (I used Momokawa Diamond)
1 tsp. Ground crystallized ginger
1/2 Fresh Lime

Grind the crystallized ginger until it forms a coarse paste. (I used a mortar & pestle, but since the ginger is soft, you should be able to grind it up easily in a bowl with the back of a spoon)

Cut 1/2 lime into thirds and muddle with the ginger in a rocks glass. Fill with ice cubes and add cachaca. Place mixing tin over glass, invert and shake well. Pour contents (do not strain) back into glass, and garnish with lime wheel.

I discovered the Caipirinha about a year ago and I immediately loved it. The simplicity of its recipe appealed to me, and the no-frills sweet/sour/spirit combo is fantastic. Plus, I get to play with my muddler. Any drink that calls for squashing stuff with a hunk of wood is OK in my book.

So when I was considering which classic drink to corrupt with my graceless tinkering, I gravitated toward the Caipirinha. I knew I didn’t want to add anything, which could potentially change the entire character of the drink. I also didn’t want to remove an ingredient and destroy the great three-way balance among the ingredients.

This left me with substitution. But rather than trying out random ingredients in a maelstrom of trial-and-error, I decided to let aroma be my guide. I closed my eyes and took several whiffs of the open cachaca bottle to see if it suggested anything (I’m an unapologetic bottle-sniffer, and can often be found rapturously inhaling the delightful fumes from my bottle of Luxardo maraschino. Don’t judge me.).

It wasn’t long before I had one of those “light-bulb-over-the-head” moments. Ginger seemed like it might be complementary, and since I had the crystallized kind (which contains sugar) handy, that’d take care of the sweetness.

After mashing some up in my trusty mortar & pestle, (getting to use another gadget...bonus!) I tried out the conventional recipe…substituting the ginger for the sugar. Unfortunately, the ginger got lost, overwhelmed by the punchy cachaca.

That’s when I opened the fridge and spotted the unopened bottle of sake.

Some sort of perverse inspiration struck, and I made another quick tweak: I knocked the ¾ oz. off the cachaca and replaced it with an ounce of sake. Yeah, I know I technically violated my earlier rule about not adding anything, but it’s my own rule and I can bend it if I want.

Anyway, I think it works. The cachaca still forms the backbone of the drink, but the sake puts a crisp, dry angle on it. And adding it somehow freed up the ginger, which now comes out as just a little wisp on the finish. Best of all, it still tastes fundamentally like a Caipirinha, which is great because I didn’t want to totally transmogrify the thing into something unrecognizable.

The only problem was I had no idea what to call it. I figured something like “Asian-inspired caipirinha” or “Caipirinha Japanese-style” was perfectly accurate, but lacked zip. I’ll keep working on it. Suggestions, as always, are encouraged.

And don't forget to swing by Jimmy's Cocktail Hour and check out all the other great contributions to this month's Mixology Monday!

Trendy new garnish: Haptics!

I recently ran across the term “haptics” (oddly enough in a promotional brochure for a local supermarket chain) and having never heard it before, did what I imagine many of us do when the giant cartoon question mark appears over our heads: scurry to the nearest computer to see what we can find.

According to the Wikipedia entry, “Haptics is the study of touching behavior”. As I delved further, I discovered haptics also deals with how human beings interact physically with technology, in devices such as video game controllers, artificial limbs, etc. Neat stuff.

Naturally, I wondered how haptics relates to booze. Surely this sophisticated science has some role to play in the realm of cocktails. I thought about how all of us in the drinkblogging community spend a lot of time discussing what goes into our drinking vessels…but maybe not much time thinking about the vessels themselves.

There’s plenty of information both in print and online as to what glass a particular drink is served in. What I’m curious about is not the correctness of the drink/glass pairing, but rather how do different glasses feel in my hand- and does that affect my perceptions of the drinking experience?

Now before anyone thinks I’m gonna go all scientific-like and lay out some master’s thesis…relax. I can be obsessive, but a comprehensive empirical study isn’t the goal here. (However, if you really want to see some top-shelf glassware analysis, check out Gabriel's treatise here). What I’m attempting is a more direct, intuitive approach. Basically, I wanted to riffle through my collection of glasses and see how I reacted purely to their shape, weight, texture etc., regardless of their contents. That counts as haptics, as far as I‘m concerned.

Like I said, this is off-the-cuff and completely unscientific. Also, my barware collection is relatively modest, so there are several glass types not represented here. I can only swipe so many from the corner bar before they get wise to me.

I’ve also assigned a letter grade to each glass type for style and ease-of-use. It’s just the kind of arbitrary abuse of power I relish.

On with the data…





Cocktail:

I’ve probably consumed more drinks out of the iconic cocktail glass than other type. With all that practice, you’d think I’d be more at ease when holding this type of glass, but I still often feel like I might slosh my drink out of it. As a matter of fact, I don’t really get confident with a cocktail glass until I’m about a third of the way through my drink.

As a result, I favor the smaller 3 ounce-ish size, since the big fishbowl-sized ones in vogue now seem even more unwieldy to me. I tend to hold mine by the stem, just under the upper part because I’m paranoid about my hand warming up the drink. I’ve seen people cradle the upper part of a cocktail glass like a brandy snifter, but this just never felt right to me.

Still, for undiluted elegance I think this glass takes the crown. It takes a bit of concentration and attentiveness to use, but anything worthwhile takes effort, right?

Style: A
Ease of use: C-





Cordial

Although it’s easier to hold than a cocktail glass, I feel like I have to actually be more careful with the cordial glass. It’s probably due to its small size- there’s an inherent daintiness that makes me feel like I should be handling it with padded, silken gloves. The damn thing just looks so fragile.

Plus, I don’t think there’s any way to look masculine holding one of these. I could be wearing an eye patch and drinking motor oil out of it, and it still wouldn’t help.

Style: C-
Ease of Use: C





Rocks/Old-fashioned

Now I’m at the other end of the spectrum. The rocks glass is solid, cylindrical, and fills the hand nicely. It’s a utilitarian design to be sure, but it’s earned style points over time.

Holding it evokes gritty film noir detectives and hasty splashes of whiskey, but can also be classy with a crisp gin & tonic. Regardless, the rocks glass has heft & weight, and works almost anywhere. Although because of the straight sides, I do the “pinky-bracket” underneath to prevent slippage.

Style: B-
Ease of Use: A





Margarita

Easier to hold and much more comfortable in the hand than a cocktail glass. The fingers naturally wrap around the distinctively shaped upper part, and despite it’s width, it rests comfortably. Only a barely-there grip is required The heavy, thick-walled types need a bit more muscle to hoist, but still feel natural.

I’ve field-tested the Margarita glass for over a decade at Jimmy Buffett concerts and can say that even while walking with one on uneven terrain after being over-served I experienced minimal spillage. A classic, functional design.

Style: A
Ease of Use: B





Highball

Not my favorite. The highball/collins family of glassware makes me feel like I’m drinking out of a length of pipe. Awkward, but could probably be remedied with a long straw. Also, it’s straight-sided design necessitates use of the pinky-bracket. Looks nice though.

Style: B
Ease of Use: D- (see me after class)





Double Old-fashioned

I love this glass. It’s got more bulk than the rocks glass, but somehow manages more style. It’s tapered sides fit the hand well, and it has a comfortable weight, even when full. It’s a great combination of heaviness and balance, although people with smaller hands may find it cumbersome.

Style: B
Ease of Use: A-





Tiki Mug

The umbrella term “tiki mug” includes a wide variety of shapes and sizes but what I’m talking about here are the ones most commonly seen: vaguely cylindrical, and about 6-8 inches tall.

In the interest of full disclosure, I’m a lover of tropical-style drinks, and therefore heavily biased. I think tiki mugs are almost the perfect drinking vessel. Their main drawback is that the contents of the mug are mostly hidden, (Oh, the mystery!) but there are many other advantages:

1) Their carved surface makes for a great grip. They’re almost impossible to drop, even when covered in condensation.

2) They’re thick, and can take a pretty good beating. This translates into a more confident state of mind while imbibing. Drink with confidence!

3) They hold a heck of a lot. Some larger specimens hold well over 12 ounces, so if you’re not a fan of frequent refills, this is your glass.

4) Cool factor. The majority of tiki mugs are fashioned in the shape of any number of pagan idols. Beat that, Pousse-Café glass!

Style: A+
Ease of Use: A (A+ with a straw)



Since no reputable crackpot study is complete without peer review, I encourage all of you to submit comments, suggestions, etc.. Feel free to bunk or debunk my assertions- I eagerly await your findings.

UPDATE: I just discovered Robert Hess recently discussed the iconic cocktail glass over at the Spirit World.

Mixology Monday: Brandy

So So Cocktail

¾ oz. gin
¾ oz sweet vermouth
½ oz. Calvados
½ oz. grenadine

Stir with ice in mixing glass and strain into cocktail glass.

I have to admit that brandy is my least favorite of the base spirits. It’s not that I hate the stuff, it’s just that whenever I make a cocktail recipe containing brandy, the brandy is always the flavor I end up liking the least.

So when I saw that this month's MxMo theme ingredient was brandy, I had an idea…why not use Calvados? I like applejack, so I figured I’d be in safe territory with its cousin Calvados. (Are they cousins? Brothers? I need some brandy gurus out there to gimme a hand with this one).

Anyway, this time around I decided to give my modest collection of bar guides a breather and turn to the Internet Cocktail Database for options. I bookmarked about a half-dozen recipes containing Calvados, selected four of those to try, and decided one was blogworthy: the So So Cocktail.

I couldn’t dig up much info as to it’s origins…which is unfortunate, because it’s a really decent drink. It’s a beautiful reddish hue with orange tones (The Bamboo Babe, who moonlights as a jewelry designer tells me this color is “peach garnet”, so I’ll defer to her expertise). Also, the So So smells wonderful, and has a dry, fruity aroma that reminds me somewhat of Maraschino liqueur.

Taste-wise, it’s a great combo of ingredients. The gin gives a characteristic crispness, the vermouth softens, and the grenadine is right at the top of the heap with a hefty dose of fruity sweetness. The Calvados sneaks around in the background, both stiffening everything up and gilding the flavors. Making it even more appealing is that it seems to be a great year-round, multi-occasion drink- It’s got a chameleon-like quality that has me stumped for a situation where it would be an odd choice to serve.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do any ingredient comparisons, since the one decent store near me only carried a single Calvados: Christian Drouin. If anyone out there can recommend other worthwhile brands, let me know…I’d love to try variations of this recipe.

And even if brandy isn't your thing, head on over to SLOSHED! and marinate in all the other goodies that the lovely and talented Marleigh has on display.

Happy Holidays!

Elixir #2

1 ½ oz. Gin
½ oz. White crème de menthe
½ oz. Maraschino liqueur
½ oz. Brandy

Combine all ingredients in ice-filled cocktail shaker and stir for 20-30 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with lemon twist.

From the Art of the Bar by Jeff Hollinger and Rob Schwartz (adapted from Burke’s Complete Cocktail & Drinking Recipes by Harman Burney Burke, 1934)


Let's face it, cocktail choices during the holidays can leave much to be desired. You’d think with the abundance of shindigs this time of year there'd be all manner of adult beverages to indulge in. You've got office parties, visits with family, catching up with out-of-town friends at the local watering hole, and lots of other excuses to bend the elbow during the weeks between Thanksgiving and year's end. It's a tippler's paradise.

So why does it seem that no matter where you go you’re offered either egg nog or some dubious chocolate/peppermint/cinnamon concoction that delivers its yuletide spirit with the subtlety of a grease fire? (For the record, I personally love egg nog, but there's only so much of that stuff one person can reasonably be expected to shovel down. Besides, have you seen the price of nutmeg lately?)

I was looking for an alternative that sidesteps the creamy/syrupy stuff, but still manages to convey the holiday sprit. The Elixir #2 wasn't designed as a holiday drink (as far as I know), but it sure works as one. Flavor-wise, the gin & Maraschino cuddle up together nicely, evoking an earlier holiday vibe where the silver gleam of the cocktail shaker could be seen in its rightful place next to the glimmer of the tinsel on the tree. The brandy lends a nice Dickens-era feel throughout, bringing visions of a redeemed Scrooge and our festive Victorian predecessors gathered at the hearth. Finally, the crème de menthe puts a whisper of mint into the equation, giving just the slightest nod to the time of year we're celebrating.

Now if you want the cocktail equivalent of a crowded department store loudspeaker blaring Muzak carols, be my guest. But I'll fill my glass with the distant tinkling of sleigh bells heard through a snow-laden nighttime forest.

Happy Holidays...and remember to leave a bottle out for Santa!

Irrational Crush

I’m not a gadget guy. I have a severe Luddite streak that makes me skeptical of many consumer goods that have a limited purpose or in some cases seem to be altogether unnecessary. It’s not that I’m anti-technology…there are many modern inventions (contact lenses, air conditioning, computers) that I consider to be indispensable parts of my daily life. What I’m talking about are those items that are designed not to fill a genuine need or solve a problem, but rather exist solely to separate a potential buyer from his or her money for dubious reasons. If you’ve ever flipped through a Brookstone or Sharper Image catalog, you know what I’m talking about.

However, I’m not totally immune to the “Gee whiz!” syndrome, and occasionally find myself yearning for a doodad that 98% of the world doesn’t need, but is considered vital for the other 2%.

Like a manual ice crusher.

When I began investigating how to make decent drinks, I noticed many recipes that called for crushed ice (Fellow tiki drink fans know what I’m talking about). I had readily available cubes, but crushed ice was a bit more elusive. After the usual poking around, I discovered at least 3 options:

1) Blender method: I own a blender that has a “crush ice” setting, and I thought this might be the answer…but it was pretty disappointing. My initial excitement quickly faded when I realized that on this setting the blades practically atomized the ice in the lower third of the blender while leaving the cubes at the top untouched. Bleh. On to option #2.

2) Wrap-in-cloth-and-whack-with-something method: This yielded better results than the blender, but was still far from ideal. I used several different cloths, and several different whackers, but things always turned out the same: The ice was irregularly crushed, and much of it remained stuck to the cloth. Also, the process is loud as hell, and scared the bejeezus out of my cats.

3) Manual ice crusher method: A revelation. If you don't have one, get one as soon as possible.

Here’s the deal. Fancy-schmancy kitchenware stores sell new ones for as much as fifty bucks. My advice is to hit up garage sales, thrift stores, flea markets or online auction sites for old ones. The one I have came courtesy of my father who found it at a flea market for five bucks. It’s at least 30 years old, built like a tank, and will easily fit in your liquor cabinet. And it was one of FIVE he spotted in a single afternoon, so they definitely can be found in the wild.

It’s also a great example of simplicity and elegance in design. Dump ice cubes in the top, turn the hand crank, and collect your crushed ice in the bottom. The whole process takes mere seconds. If you’re finicky about the texture, you can turn the handle one direction for coarse, and the other way for fine. And if you fill it entirely, it makes exactly enough ice to fill a double old-fashioned glass. My Mai Tais are now complete.

Did I mention the utterly gratifying tactile sensation of cranking the handle to grind your ice into a cocktail-ready consistency? This thing makes you EARN your drink, and no one who observes you operating it will doubt your commitment.

So yes, I do own a gadget. And its sole purpose is to make big pieces of ice into smaller pieces of ice. But us two-percenters are okay with that.

Mixology Monday: Gin

Del Coronado

1/2 oz. unsweetened pineapple juice
1/2 oz. passion fruit syrup
2 1/2 oz. orange juice
3/4 oz. fresh lemon juice
1/4 oz. fresh lime juice
1/2 oz. papaya nectar
1 oz. gin
1 oz. dark Jamaican rum

Shake well with ice cubes and pour into tall glass.

When I saw that this month’s MxMo theme was gin, I almost collapsed under the combined weight of options and excitement. Gin is my favorite spirit, and I didn’t even know where to begin. There is a phenomenon known as “choice overload” and I was clearly experiencing it.

But help was on the way. By pure happenstance, this past weekend I had the good fortune to play bartender to three women who, in addition to being a hell of a lot of fun, also enjoy a good drink. And like myself, these gals appreciate gin.

Slowly, ideas began to coalesce. I needed a MxMo entry…and also had the opportunity to serve several drinks (many including gin) to fellow enthusiasts…surely something concrete would materialize and form the nucleus of my entry. Best not to overthink or try to engineer it- I was going to let the drinks appear and see where things went. I don’t know if it could properly be called Zen, but it was in the ballpark.

My approach was to simply offer up a fairly wide-ranging menu of drinks and see what the proceedings yielded. The plan was no-plan, allowing the evening to set it’s own agenda. Knowing my crowd was partial to gin, it was a safe bet at least one gin-based recipe would be selected and perhaps become the basis for my post...but the main question was: Would things develop into a bare-knuckle gin drink showdown with recipes, brands, and styles subjected to rigorous scrutiny? Or would we casually meander through the offerings, perhaps ending up with nothing more than a pleasant ramble through a pile of drinks?

As it turns out, it was a little bit of both. The drinks chosen fell into two rough groups: tiki and gin-based. On the tiki side, Mai Tais and Zombies showed up. On the gin side, Pimm’s cups and Corpse Reviver #2’s made the cut.

All were enjoyed to varying degrees, and during the aftermath, I thought, “Well, since the drinks everyone seemed to go for either involved gin or were tiki-style, why don’t I look for a recipe that somehow combines both?”

Turning to my dependable Beachbum Berry tomes Grog Log and Intoxica! (Shamefully, I haven’t yet picked up Sippin’ Safari…feel free to heap abuse on me at your leisure), I eventually settled upon the Del Coronado (Aside from containing gin, I think the other reason I chose it was the challenge of finding papaya nectar...thrill of the hunt and all that).

Anyway, the Del Coronado is fruity. 6 of the 8 ingredients are fruit-based, and it really shows in the overall taste. The orange jumps out front, forming the main flavor, with the passion fruit close behind. The pineapple, lemon, and lime are less noticeable, meshing together into an somewhat indistinct fruit blend, with the papaya doing a bit of drive-by tartness. Lastly, the rum reveals itself on the finish, giving a quick wave to remind you that there was actually some grown-up stuff amidst the juice…kind of like finding a tarantula lurking around in your fruit basket.

But what about the gin? In this drink the gin plays a supporting but crucial role. You don’t notice it’s flavor so much as it’s feel. This is a drink that is thick with flavors, and rather than compete with them, the gin snakes it’s way around the edges, sharpening things up and keeping it the other ingredients from bogging each other down.

Maybe it’d be easier (or at least more fun) to say it this way: If the Del Coronado was a piece of clothing, it’d be a Hawaiian shirt with a great floral print (the juices), real coconut-shell buttons (the rum) and silver thread (the gin) stitching it all together.

Sound weird? Have a couple Del Coronados and maybe it’ll make sense. Call it “gin Zen.”

If a metaphor falls in the forest…