A Cocktail for Stanley Tucci

Editorial note: This was originally written – and very nearly completed – on May 29th, 2022, two days after Tucci’s video was posted. For reasons obscure even to me, I did not publish it at the time. Upon review in February 2024, I have added photographs and the third footnote, and made minor edits for clarity. Otherwise, this is a faithful representation of my original thoughts on the topic:

Stanley Tucci recently posted a charming Instagram video of him making cocktails for his Searching for Italy crew. I enjoyed watching it, as I’ve generally enjoyed his pivot to culinary travelogues and his high-profile interest in mixing cocktails at home. This video, in particular, lends itself to the kind of objectively unnecessary (and lengthy!) academic analysis that I know my readers crave – in no small part because it concerns the Martini, that most analyzed and most analyzable of classic cocktails. What follows is a case study I simply couldn’t resist undertaking, which concludes with a recipe recommendation for Mr. Tucci and anyone with a similar taste in cocktails.

(Before proceeding, I recommend watching the above video in its entirety. It’s a hair under six minutes, and would be very enjoyable even if it didn’t provide a pretext for me to discuss mixological theory.)

Tucci’s Martini technique is as follows: First, he pours dry vermouth into a mixing glass with ice. All told, he stirs it for about 20-25 seconds. Then he strains off the liquid, the goal having been to just slightly flavor the ice with the vermouth. He then adds gin to the remaining ice and stirs for another 20-25 seconds (throwing appropriate shade at James Bond for taking his Martinis shaken).* Then he strains it into stemmed glasses, expresses lemon peels over the top, and then drops the peels in.

Cocktail recipes should suit the purposes for which they are intended. A Tom Collins is meant to be refreshing and sat with for a while, so we serve it in a big glass with lots of ice and emphatically more seltzer than gin; an Earthquake is a slow sipper and a reminder that Lautrec could drink us all under the table, a challenge as much as a beverage, so we serve it bone dry and at room temperature.

Tucci says several things that suggest the purpose for which his Martini recipe is intended:

“You don’t want to have too much vermouth…you don’t want to overpower the gin.”

“Now this has sat, because what you don’t want is for the drink to be too, as they say, ‘hot.’”

“Taste the alcohol, but you want that to be something that is subdued.”

“You’re going to get all the flavors of the gin, with a hint of the vermouth.”

Between these statements and the technique he used, we can do a little triangulation to get to the intent behind the drink.

It would appear that Tucci is in the market for something that is both gin-forward and refreshing, even veering on crushable. His recipe produces a highly diluted cocktail. The Martini’s savory side has been dispensed with in favor of the bright citrusy one. To the extent that the vermouth contributes flavor, it is slight – less even than the lemon peel, particularly because the latter is dropped into the glass and will continue to in infuse into the cocktail over time. The core of the recipe is the Tanqueray Ten, proofed down to a drinkable strength (again, not too hot!) and only lightly seasoned with flavors which complement those in the gin: lemon and a hint of dry vermouth.

Regular readers know that this is not how I would make a Martini.** However, I have a different purpose in mind. For me, a Martini is an evening drink, big and bracing, preprandial in the Emburian tradition of cocktails. I like mine hot, and I like vermouth; I would rather balance my Martini by adding more vermouth flavor as a counterpoint to the gin than by lowering the proof to reduce the presence of the gin.

Tucci appears to be after something else. At two in the afternoon on a seaside Italian terrace, I would sooner have his drink than my own – and I would be more willing to have a second round as well. (Granted, for the stated purpose I would probably pick a different cocktail, but that’s immaterial to this exercise.)

Tucci’s recipe also provides a window into his personal tastes. I am reminded of his famous Negroni video from early in the pandemic, in which he mixed it 2:1:1 rather than equal parts, and shook it rather than stirring or building. It seems reasonable to infer that Tucci is a gin fan, and will want it to be more rather than less present in his cocktails. It also appears that he prefers more dilution in his drinks in general than I do. Remember, shaking dilutes more rapidly than stirring does, and since we usually do them for comparable lengths of time, shaking will in practice dilute more in total than stirring does. For me, the purpose of the Negroni is akin to that of an Old Fashioned: I want to sit with it for a while, and I want it to start spirit-forward and gradually open up as the ice melts. For Tucci, it’s a closer cousin to, for instance, the Corpse Reviver #2: something in the Craddock school of drinks, which are meant to be “drunk quickly, while [they’re] still laughing at you.” That’s why he serves it up rather than on the rocks, and although I would probably stir it rather than shaking if that were my goal, shaking is an efficient way to achieve a slightly lower-ABV result. I should note as well that Tucci and I (and many bartenders) are in agreement that the Negroni often tastes better 2:1:1 than 1:1:1, which, among the choices he makes that one might contest, is the one that has the greatest impact on the drink’s flavor.

If I can hazard a reasonable guess at Tucci’s cocktail tastes from these two videos, I believe I have a recipe recommendation for him. It’s a drink that may or may not have been invented by John Steinbeck (sources differ; it may have been one of his friends), but was in any case first published by him in his novella Sweet Thursday, the sequel to Cannery Row:

Webster F-Street Layaway Plan
2 oz. Gin
1/4 oz. Green Chartreuse
Lemon Peel
Rinse glass with Chartreuse. (Note: 1/4 oz. of Chartreuse is more than you’ll need to rinse the glass, but do NOT pour out the excess; this drink wants the full 1/4 oz.)
Shake gin with ice for 10-12 seconds and strain into rinsed glass. Express lemon peel over the top and drop in.

Steinbeck, alas, didn’t give specific proportions – he just described his drink as a Martini with Chartreuse instead of the vermouth. It’s unclear what style of Martini he had in mind. But the above, which is my go-to way of making it, tracks with Tucci’s approach. Shaking dilutes the gin efficiently; this proofed-down spirit becomes the core of the drink. The Chartreuse will be a bit more present than Tucci’s vermouth, both because it is a stronger flavor inherently and because rinsing the glass (and retaining the excess) incorporates it more directly than rinsing the ice does.***

For me personally, this is what I would make when I wanted something gin-forward but not excessively hot, with subtle citrus and herbal additions. Mr. Tucci, if you’re listening, give this one a try!

*In the video, he then rolls the drink from the mixing glass into a series of shakers in order to find one that will fit the strainer he has. This is a consequence of his being on location with limited tools, and therefore I’m not including it as part of his technique, but for what it’s worth it does push the drink even further in the diluted/refreshing direction which seems to be the overall goal.

**For the benefit of irregular readers: 3 parts gin, 1 part dry vermouth, 1 dash orange bitters, stir 10-12 seconds, strain into a cocktail glass, express a lemon peel over the top and discard.

***I’ll be honest, when I first saw Tucci’s vermouth technique, I thought, “There’s no way that contributes any vermouth flavor to the cocktail; you’re just pouring off all the vermouth.” But then I remembered Dave Arnold’s discussion of what he calls “holdback” in Liquid Intelligence: after shaking or stirring a cocktail with ice, some percentage of the mixture will adhere to the surface of the cubes as the rest is strained off. He calculates the holdback percentage to be 1-4% of the total drink for large rectangular cubes cut from block ice, or 7-9% of the total for smaller ice made by an ice machine.

Tucci stirred an ounce of vermouth in his mixing glass, which means that if Arnold’s percentages hold, anywhere from .01 oz. to .09 oz. of the vermouth could remain on the ice when he’s done. Since the outermost layer of the cubes will be the first to mix into the gin when he reuses that ice, he might theoretically get all or nearly all of that vermouth into the drink. It may not sound like much, but according to Don Lee, there are about 41 dashes of Angostura bitters to the ounce, making one dash of Angostura about .024 oz. So again, depending on the ice, Tucci’s Martini could have the rough equivalent of anywhere from 1/2 – 3 1/2 dashes of dry vermouth…per 6 oz of gin (he said he was making two of them), which is to say 1/4 – 1 3/4 dashes per Martini.

Now, that may be just enough vermouth left behind on the ice to impart some flavor to the finished drink. But I am also reminded of what my dear friend Alexander said to me when I shared this video with him, which was, “Stanley Tucci has contrived an entirely new way to not put vermouth in your cocktail.” Even the Webster F-Street Layaway Plan, which is astoundingly dry by most standards, has somewhere between eight and seventy-five times more Chartreuse per unit of gin than Tucci’s Martini has of vermouth.

Cocktail Syrups for Home Use

The recipes for Classic Cocktails have been tested, and I find myself with bit of breathing room. This seems like a good time to share some syrup recipes for anyone looking to improve their socially distant cocktail game.

Today’s focus is on basic sugar and fruit syrups (I have a followup planned to cover a few more). All of these are reasonably easy to make with common ingredients, but will also accommodate substitutions.

Simple Syrup
1 part White Sugar
1 part Water

Cold Method: Combine ingredients in a container and shake until dissolved. Refrigerate.
Warm Method: Combine ingredients in a pot over medium-low heat and stir until dissolved. Transfer into a container and refrigerate.

Notes: Simple syrup lives up to its name! You can also substitute a more flavorful product, like demerara, turbindo, or muscovado sugar, or a blend of sugars if you want to be fancy.

Rich Simple Syrup
2 parts White Sugar
1 part Water

Warm Method: Combine ingredients in a pot over medium-low heat and stir until dissolved. Transfer into a container and refrigerate.

Notes: You can try the cold method here, but the warm one will work better with this sugar concentration. I prefer to use demerara sugar for my rich simple syrup to get richer flavor and texture all at once.

Grenadine (and other fruit juice syrups)
1 part White Sugar
1 part Pomegranate Juice

Cold Method: Combine ingredients in a container and shake until dissolved. Refrigerate.
Warm Method: Combine ingredients in a pot over medium-low heat and stir until dissolved. Transfer into a container and refrigerate.
Hot Method: Combine ingredients in a pot over medium heat and stir until dissolved. Continue cooking and stirring until mixture is reduced by half, or is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Transfer into a container and refrigerate.

Notes: I’m including the hot method for reference, but I never use it personally; grenadine gets plenty thick enough under the warm method, and if the juice comes to a boil it will change the flavor for the worse. But it’s commonly cited, so I’m including it to make the differences in methods clear.

Optional additions to grenadine include orange flower water, lemon juice, pomegranate molasses, vodka (in a small amount as a preservative), gin (ditto, and for flavor), and brandy (same as gin), but none of these is necessary.

You can also use this technique to make syrups out of other fruit juices! For the most similar results, stick to unsweetened ones with a tart note and not too much fiber or pulp - so, grape and cranberry are in, banana and orange are probably out, etc.

Rasperry Syrup (and other whole-fruit syrups)
2 parts White Sugar
1 part Fresh or Frozen Raspberries
1 part Warm Water

Warm Method: Mash raspberries. Add sugar and mix thoroughly, then allow to sit and macerate for 30 minutes. Add warm (not hot) water and stir until all sugar is dissolved. Strain to remove seeds, transfer into a container, and refrigerate.

Notes: Grenadine and raspberry syrup can often be used as substitutes for one another in cocktails, but there are classic recipes that call for raspberry syrup preferentially (most famously the Clover Club).

As with the grenadine recipe, you can also use this one to make syrups out of other fruits. For best results, stick to ones that have a high water content and pulverize easily - berries are probably your best bet, but I could imagine this method working for something like watermelon, too.

And of course, nothing says you have to use the raspberry syrup in cocktails! You can put it on pancakes or desserts, or stir it into seltzer for a homemade raspberry soda instead.

* * *

All right, let’s put these into some recipes, shall we? To showcase the similar but distinct uses of grenadine and raspberry syrup, consider…

Clover Club
1½ oz. London Dry Gin
½ oz. Dry Vermouth
½ oz. Lemon Juice
½ oz. Raspberry Syrup
Egg White

Shake without ice to unfold egg proteins. Add ice and shake again. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and serve. Optionally, garnish with 2-3 raspberries.

This could be either drink, but it’s the Pink Lady.

This could be either drink, but it’s the Pink Lady.

Pink Lady
1½ oz. London Dry Gin
½ oz. Apple Brandy
¾ oz. Lemon Juice
½ oz. Simple Syrup
½ oz. Grenadine
Egg White

Shake without ice to unfold egg proteins. Add ice and shake again. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and serve.

Classic Cocktails: Last Call

(This post is part of a series that I’m using to help write my next book, the new edition of 100 Classic Cocktails, and provide inspiration for home bartenders in these times of social distancing. Some of the recipes are ones I’m trying to workshop, and I’m asking my readers to test the recipes at home if able and send me their thoughts on the questions I have. Others are ones I think I’ve nailed that can be easily made with common household ingredients, and I’m sharing them to help my readers keep their spirits up while spending a lot more time at home than usual. I’ll always specify which is which. For more background on all of this, including the book, you can check out the first post in the series here. All posts will be tagged “(100) Classic Cocktails”.)

My manuscript deadline is looming, so this post will be the last opportunity to influence the contents of Classic Cocktails before it comes out! To that end, I’m skipping the history and the theory and just listing the cocktails I have lingering questions about. If you have feedback on any of these, give me a shout at info@herzogcocktailschool.com as soon as you can!

Don’t worry, I’ll still keep this blog series going after the manuscript is done. There’s a lot that I’ve learned that I’d like to share, and plenty more of these recipes are easy to make at home in a socially distant world. (Plus I now have an interesting story about the Lemon Drop, which is a sufficiently unexpected outcome of all this that I think I have to share it.)

In the mean time, however, if you’d like to help me out and/or see your name in print in the book’s acknowledgements, mix up one of these and tell me what you think:

Diamondback

(Lower-Octane, Original Version)
1½ oz. ~80-proof Rye
¾ oz. ~80-proof Apple Brandy
½ oz. OR ¾ oz. Yellow Chartreuse

Stir with ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with maraschino or brandied cherries.

(Higher-Octane, Contemporary Version)
1½ oz. ~100-proof Rye
¾ oz. ~100-proof Apple Brandy
½ oz. OR ¾ oz. Green Chartreuse

Stir with ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with maraschino or brandied cherries.

Question(s): Did you try the lower- or higher-octane version? Within that version did you try it with ½ oz. or ¾ oz. of the Chartreuse variety specified? Did you find it well-balanced, too spirit-forward, too sweet, not spiritous enough, or not sweet enough?

(Inconveniently, this is both alphabetically first and the one on the list that has the most permutations to inquire about. Your feedback on any one of them will be helpful data in working out an overall consensus; the rest of these are much more straightforward.)

Gin Rickey
1½ oz. Old Tom Gin or London Dry Gin
Juice of ½ Lime
3 oz. Club Soda

Juice half a lime into a highball glass. Add ice, gin, and club soda, and stir. Garnish with the spent lime shell.

Question(s): Is this palatable or too sour? Does it need more soda, more gin, or both?

Jasmine
1½ oz. Gin
¾ oz. Lemon Juice
½ oz. Campari
½ oz. Curaçao or Triple Sec

Shake. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

OR

1½ oz. Gin
¾ oz. Lemon Juice
¼ oz. Campari
¼ oz. Curaçao or Triple Sec

Shake. Serve without ice.

Question: Is this better with the extra ¼ oz. each of Campari and curaçao, as in the top recipe; or without, as in the lower?

Margarita
2 oz. Blanco Tequila OR 1½ oz. Blanco Tequila
½ oz. Triple Sec
½ oz. Lime Juice
1 tsp. Simple Syrup (or agave syrup, or another sweetener)

Shake with ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail grass with a salted rim. Garnish with a lime wheel.

Question(s): Is this better with the additional ½ oz. of tequila, or without? Additionally, what sort of sweetener did you use, and did you find it improved the drink, compromised it, or had no discernible effect?

Pegu Club
1½ oz. Gin
¾ oz. Triple Sec or Curaçao
¾ oz. Lime Juice
2 dashes Angostura Bitters OR 1 dash Angostura Bitters and 1 dash Orange Bitters

Shake with ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Question: Is this better with both Angostura and orange, or with just Angostura?

Seelbach
1 oz. Bourbon (~50% ABV preferred)
½ oz. Triple Sec
7 dashes Angostura Bitters
7 dashes Peychaud's Bitters
3-4 oz. Sparkling Wine

Stir all but the wine with ice. Strain into a chilled flute and fill with sparkling wine. Garnish with an orange twist.

OR

Chill all ingredients. Combine bourbon, triple sec, and bitters in a flute and stir, then fill with sparkling wine. Garnish with an orange twist.

Question(s): Which way did you prepare it, and did you enjoy it? What was the proof of the bourbon you used, and did the whiskey flavor come through enough (or too much) for your tastes?

Vodka Espresso
2 oz. Vodka
1 oz. Fresh Espresso
½ oz. Coffee Liqueur
½ oz. Simple Syrup

Shake until foamy. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with three coffee beans, if available.

OR

1½ oz. Vodka
1 oz. Fresh Espresso
¾ oz. Coffee Liqueur

Shake until foamy. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with three coffee beans, if available.

Question(s): Which variation did you use? Did you find it overly sweet or not sweet enough? Too spirit-forward or not spiritous enough?

Vodka Sour
1½ oz. Vodka OR 2 oz. Vodka
1 oz. Simple Syrup
¾ oz. Lemon Juice

Shake. Serve up.

Question(s): Is this better with the additional ½ oz. of vodka, or without? And is the below version perhaps even better?

‘Lemon Drop’
1½ oz. Vodka
½ oz. Simple Syrup
½ oz. Triple Sec or Curaçao
½ oz. Lemon Juice

Shake. Serve up.

Whiskey Sour
2 oz. Bourbon
¾ oz. OR 1 oz. Simple Syrup
¾ oz. Lemon Juice

Shake. Serve down.

Question: Is this better with ¾ or 1 oz. of simple syrup?

The Collins, the Fizz, the Rickey, and the Highball

(This post is part of a series that I’m using to help write my next book, the new edition of 100 Classic Cocktails, and provide inspiration for home bartenders in these times of social distancing. Some of the recipes are ones I’m trying to workshop, and I’m asking my readers to test the recipes at home if able and send me their thoughts on the questions I have. Others are ones I think I’ve nailed that can be easily made with common household ingredients, and I’m sharing them to help my readers keep their spirits up while spending a lot more time at home than usual. I’ll always specify which is which. For more background on all of this, including the book, you can check out the first post in the series here. All posts will be tagged “(100) Classic Cocktails”.)

Or, “Long Drinks Part Two: Carbonated Boogaloo.” (It’s been a long lockdown, OK?)

It’s time for another post with a whole bunch of recipes, in the same spirit as our earlier discussion of juice-forward drinks but this time focusing on recipes lengthened with sodas. They fall into three broad categories.

Highball” is a blanket term for simple two-ingredient combination of a distilled spirit and a carbonated mixer over ice, occasionally with a citrus wedge or other garnish. The mixer is usually flavored but plain club soda is sometimes used.

Strictly speaking, the Gin and Tonic and any other drink along those lines belongs to the highball category, but if someone orders a ‘highball’ without specifying further, they’re generally expecting a glass of whiskey with ginger ale or club soda rather than, say, a Rum and Coke. Highballs are straightforward, and I find a 1:2 ratio of spirit to mixer is a pretty solid baseline. Particular recipes follow at the end of this post.

But first, let’s talk about their historically more interesting cousins: the Collins and the Fizz. Why more interesting? First, because they require a bit more technique than highballs do. And second, because they’re very tricky to tell apart. A Collins is made with a spirit base, usually gin, and lemon juice, sugar, ice and seltzer. A fizz is made with a spirit base, also usually gin, and also with lemon juice, sugar, ice, and seltzer.

They may seem like they’re the same damn thing, except that fizzes occasionally have egg whites or yolks added to them (more on this later), and people sometimes say the fizz should be smaller or that it should be served without ice for some reason. That’s pretty thin, and for this reason I was prepared to scratch the whole fizz operation out of Classic Cocktails as redundant, until I read Dave Wondrich’s notes on the traditional distinction between them in his excellent book Imbibe! Here’s how I would summarize his findings:

  • The Collins is a built drink, prepared in the glass it’s going to be served in. It uses a ton of seltzer - 6 ounces, in Wondrich’s recipe - and is served in a tall glass to accommodate all that liquid. Because the preparation process doesn’t chill the drink in any way, it is served with ice. It is expected that the ice will melt, and that it will chill and dilute the drink over time, because it is expected that a drink this large will take a while to consume.

  • The fizz is a shaken drink. All the chilling and dilution it needs comes from the ice in the shaker; it is then strained into a glass and topped with seltzer. It is served without ice, because it’s already cold and no further dilution is desired - but because there is nothing keeping it cold, it is meant to be drunk quickly, before it warms up. Consequently, the amount of seltzer is lower, more like 3-4 ounces against the Collins’s 6, and it is served in a correspondingly smaller glass.

Put another way, the Collins is oriented around being a slow sipper, while the fizz is meant to be drunk more like a shorter cocktail. Everything else about each flows from this: preparation, service on or off the rocks, glass size, even the presence or absence of egg. You can easily dress up a fizz by adding egg whites to the shaker, but you emphatically do not want to try that with a Collins, where you’ll have drippy unintegrated egg swirling around in the glass for the good long while it’ll take you to finish the drink. This is why the fizz can be doctored into other things and the Collins basically can’t. It’s also why certain cocktails come in ‘fizz’ versions, not Collins versions - most notably the Southside, a shaken combination of gin, lemon, sugar, mint, and sometimes orange bitters, which is sometimes topped with seltzer and rechristened the Southside Fizz. The lack of ice also lets the fizz’s effervescence play a starring role (and even an acrobatic one) in the drink’s presentation, as it most notably does in the Ramos Gin Fizz.

And then there is the Rickey, a sort of half-sibling to both the Collins and the fizz. It is fizz-sized, but it is built in the glass and served with ice like a Collins. Its main distinguishing feature is a lack of sugar, followed by its preference for lime rather than lemon juice. It is necessarily the sourest-tasting of the bunch, and it assumes a certain amount of lingering ice-melt to offset its limeyness. The original Rickey was made with whiskey, according to the tastes of its creator and namesake Col. Joe Rickey; but the Gin Rickey has been the more popular sibling for most of their history, heightening the apparent similarity with the Collins and the fizz.

Got all that? OK, let’s do some recipes. These are all super easy quarantine cocktails, but I have the same mild Question for My Tasters about each of them: are you happy with these proportions? As always, drink as many or as few as you like, just let me know which drinks you tried and which spirit(s) you used when providing your feedback!

IMG_8048.jpg

Tom Collins (pictured)
2 oz. Old Tom Gin (traditionally) or London Dry Gin
1 tsp. Sugar
Juice of 1/2 a Lemon (~3/4 oz. Lemon Juice)
6 oz. Seltzer

Combine gin, sugar, and lemon juice in a Collin glass or other tall glass (if you have a 12- to 16-oz. beer glass lying around, that’ll do nicely) and stir until sugar is dissolved. Add seltzer and plenty of ice, and stir to mix. Enjoy slowly over the course of an afternoon.

For a John Collins, substitute whiskey for the gin; for a Ron Collins, substitute rum.

Gin Fizz
2 oz. Old Tom Gin (traditionally) or London Dry Gin
1/4 oz. Sugar
Juice of 1/2 a Lemon (~3/4 oz. Lemon Juice)

Shake with ice. Strain into an 8ish-oz. highball or juice glass without ice and fill with 3-4 oz. of seltzer. Drink quickly, while it’s still laughing at you. Rum, whiskey, or brandy may be substituted for the gin if preferred.

For a Silver Fizz, add an egg white to the shaker and shake once without ice to unfold the egg proteins before shaking with ice. For a Golden Fizz, add an egg yolk instead.

IMG_8018.jpg

Southside (pictured)
2 oz. London Dry Gin
3/4 oz. Lemon Juice
3/4 oz. Simple Syrup
~8 Mint Leaves
1 dash Orange Bitters

Shake all but the bitters. Strain into a chilled rocks glass and dash bitters on top. Garnish with a smacked sprig of mint.

For the Southside Fizz, strain instead into a 6- to 8-oz. highball or juice glass and dash bitters on top. Then fill with 3-4 oz. of seltzer and garnish with a smacked sprig of mint.

Gin Rickey
1 1/2 oz. Old Tom Gin (traditionally) or London Dry Gin
Juice of 1/2 a Lime (~1/2 oz. Lime Juice)
3 oz. Seltzer

Juice half a lime into a 6- to 8-oz. highball or juice glass. Add ice, gin, and club soda, and stir. Garnish with the spent lime shell. For a traditional Rickey, substitute whiskey for the gin.

Bourbon Highball
2 oz. Bourbon
4 oz. Ginger Ale or Club Soda

Combine in an 8ish-oz. highball or juice glass with ice and stir.

Gin and Tonic
2 oz. Gin
4 oz. Tonic Water

Combine in an 8ish-oz. highball or juice glass with ice and stir. Optionally, garnish with a wedge of lime.

Cuba Libre
2 oz. Aged Rum
4 oz. Coca-Cola (or similar)

Combine in an 8ish-oz. highball or juice glass with ice and stir. Garnish with a wedge of lime (essential here - both for flavor and because without it, this is simply a Rum and Coke).

Two Anniversaries, and a Mystery

Today, you may be aware, is the two hundredth anniversary of Napoleon's final defeat at Waterloo. (This is a big year, apparently - the Magna Carta turned eight hundred on Monday.)

My first thought on hearing this, naturally, was, "Is there a Waterloo Cocktail?" And, just as naturally, there is:

Waterloo Sunset
1/2 oz. Beefeater Gin
2 tsp Elderflower Cordial
1 tsp Raspberry Liqueur
Champagne to fill
Stir the gin and cordial with ice and strain into a Champagne flute. Float the Champagne on top, then carefully pour the raspberry liqueur through the Champagne, so it also floats on the gin and cordial.

(Recipe modified from metric units to the units that landed men on the moon.)

"Elderflower Cordial" in this case does not mean a "cordial" in the contemporary American sense, synonymous with "liqueur"; but in the older or British  sense, essentially an infusion of elderflowers in sugar and water. St. Elder or St. Germain would approximate this flavor reasonably well, while admittedly adding a few things of their own.

Now, ordinarily, this would be the part where the author signs off, with maybe a musing about Waterloo for the road. But today, as I was doing my research, I found this article as well. For those who don't feel like going through the Scheherazadean exercise of articles within articles, here's the money quote:

"In France, 18 June is remembered not for Waterloo but as the day General de Gaulle launched his appeal from London in 1940, calling his fellow countrymen to resist the German occupation."

In other words, today is also the 75th anniversary, at least symbolically, of the start of the French Resistance. Which naturally made me wonder, "Is there a Charles de Gaulle Cocktail?"

And, just as naturally, there is. The folks at Cocktail Virgin and/or Slut have a post about it, too, and although these are the only sources I can find, they don't precisely agree.

Everybody's on the same page that this is a Green Chartreuse, hot chocolate, and dairy drink. In the first of those two links, you'll see heated milk and a garnish of heavy cream called for (although the cocoa is still a powder in that recipe, so the milk could be read as simply indicating a rich hot chocolate). In the latter, no particular type of cream is specified, but its location is: on top.

So we've got a slug of Chartreuse in a mug of hot chocolate with some species of decorative cream surtopping it. Remind you of anything?

By which - say it with me now - naturally, I mean the Verte Chaud.

This is a reasonably well-known drink, evidently thanks to Jamie Boudreau, since most of the online references I see cite him as their source.

As a non-Francophone, I have to give credit to blind luck, careful Googling, and this young lady's travel blog, for introducing me collectively to the idea of "chocolat chaud," which is, literally, French for "hot chocolate."

The name of the Verte Chaud is thereby made clear, "Chartreuse Verte" being French for "Green Chartreuse." The convention here is rather like a Black and Tan, or a Whiskey Sour - the name is not so much a name as a description. "Green Hot."

This is so far identical to the Charles de Gaulle. But what of the cream? "Wet cream," the topping in several of the Verte Chaud recipes, is evidently like the kind of whipped cream you make yourself, if you stopped whipping it before it really got stiff.

But one of those links, courtesy of PDT's Jim Meehan, calls for "heavy cream, whipped to soft peaks.And here, the gap is bridged.

As a non-baker, I have to thank really simple Googling and this cooking blog for clarifying that heavy cream and whipping cream are very nearly the same, with as little as 6% fat making the difference. For our purposes, they are basically interchangeable.

Which means that the conclusion of this whole exercise is that the Verte Chaud and the Charles de Gaulle are exactly the same drink:

Verte Chaud de Gaulle
2 oz. Green Chartreuse
6 oz. or 1 mug rich hot chocolate
Top with a dollop of cream, whipped just shy of stiff

Calling this the Verte Chaud makes sense. Calling it the Charles de Gaulle also makes sense, because it's showing off several of France's iconic national products. I'm guessing the purely descriptive name is prior, but really, I've got nothing but guesses about the historical nomenclature. For now.

Next stop: Eastern Standard, which I infer from the preceding posts on CVa/oS is where they had the Charles de Gaulle back in 2007.

In the mean time, chaud damn, there's a lot of French history to reflect on today. Happy drinking - the past is best considered with a glass in hand.

Levantine Martini

Levantine Martini

2 oz. Boodles gin
1/2 oz. Noilly Prat dry vermouth
1/4 oz. Kassatly Ajyal Lebanese tamarind syrup
Twist of orange

It amazes me, in hindsight, that this wasn’t the first thing I thought of when that bottle of tamarind syrup walked through my door. Truth be told, it came to me because I was trying to devise a drink as visually interesting as the Yale in a different color palette. It isn’t quite, but it’s tasty enough that I don’t mind.

This result should be surprising to no one. Both this and the Yale are essentially variations on the classic Martini, and this one hews much closer to a Martini flavor. The tamarind hits sour and savory notes, both of which complement the gin and vermouth that are the cocktail’s bread and butter. In the Martini, you ordinarily get one or the other: a twist of lemon, or a cocktail olive.

Someday I’d like to visit a bar where the “Martini Menu” contains nothing but honest-to-God members of the Martini family. The Yale, the Vesper, the Martinez, the Gibson - it’s a surprisingly robust group, and there’s still more that can be done with it. Unfortunately the market for such a place is on the small side. Do let me know if you find one.

Martini

Martini

5 parts (1 1/4 oz.) Booths London dry gin
2 parts (1/2 oz.) Noilly Prat dry vermouth
Twist of lemon

Drink No. 2 in the rundown of Embury’s basic/classic cocktails is the Martini. If the Manhattan is the most accessible, the Martini is probably the least. Most people who drink “Martinis” or [word]-tinis would balk at the big glass of gin that is an actual Martini. The Herzog Cocktail School offers counter-instruction.

There are many kinds of gin, with different production processes and resulting flavor palates. For the purposes of cocktail mixing, I find it useful to describe three types: dry, herbal, and neutral. Dryness is a flavor you become accustomed to when you drink a lot of gin. If you haven’t experienced it, “un-sweet” is probably the best footing to put you on. It tends to feel boozy, and heavy, relative to other gins.

Herbal gins are your Botanists and Hendrick’ses. They have a really powerful flavor of herbs and spices. “Botanical” is the more prevalent term among aficionadoes, but calling Botanist gin “botanical” doesn’t seem particularly helpful. Neutral gins don’t jump out either way. They may be slightly citric, a little sweet, or a little more juniper-y. They’re your most versatile base for gin cocktails.

Booths is not a neutral gin. It is a very dry gin, as will be anything labelled “London dry.” In a dry-gin Martini, you want to be very careful there’s enough vermouth to offer a counterpoint. In general, between 3:1 and 7:1 gin:vermouth is a reasonable proportion for the Martini, making our 5:2 a little off the vermouthy side. Trust me when I say the gin needed it. Cocktails are a game of balances.

The classic Martini question is not, in fact, “Vodka or gin?” but, “Olive or twist?” Another way to put this is, “Savory or sour?” Which direction to bring the drink in? The Martini has many cousins which wrestle with the same issue. I opted for the twist of lemon, chiefly because I had lemons but no cocktail olives. Both are valid. The lemon version is a crisper drink, the olive one heavier. Dirty Martinis, which incorporate the olive juice, are heaviest of all.

Incidental note: I haven’t got a citrus zester, unlike our friends at Don’t Blame the Gin. I improvised the twist you see there, by cutting a lemon in half, and shaving off the rind around the edge with the knife, cutting away any fruity bits when I was done. Not too shabby a job, if I say so myself.

What happened to the rest of the lemon, you ask? Check the next update to find out…