The Long Drinks Project

(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”.)

“Long drinks” is a broad term for mixed alcoholic beverages of appreciably greater volume than is the standard for cocktails. In practice, many long drinks can be more precisely described in other ways (e.g. tiki drinks, highballs, bucks, etc.), and the generic term “long drink” is sometimes used to refer specifically to simple combinations of spirits and juices in which the latter predominate.

It will not surprise my readers to learn that these drinks - the Screwdriver, the Cape Codder, and the like - are not ones that I ordinarily order or make. It’s not that they don’t taste good, necessarily. They can and often do! But they’re usually simple and not terribly spirit-forward, two things I don’t look for in an adult beverage.

In any case, a number of them will be included in the book, and this is another category that makes for a pretty perfect twofer post: I’d love to get feedback on the recipes, and I can virtually guarantee that every single one of you will be able to make at least one of these at home.

After a lot of research and contemplation, I determined that I wanted to use the same proportions for these across the board. I don’t want drinkers to have wildly uneven experiences if they’re making all of these at home based on my book, and I do think it makes sense to think of these drinks as having parallel structures until proven otherwise. My working proportions are 1 1/2 oz. of spirit to 4 oz. of juice, which with an eighty-proof spirit gives a mixed drink about 11% alcohol by volume, or something in the ballpark of a glass of wine.

Juice-forward drinks are often elaborations on one of three classics: the Greyhound, the Screwdriver, and the Cape Codder. Here are my takes on a bunch of them. Today’s Question for Tasters: Which drink(s) did you try, and were you satisfied with these proportions? If you weren’t, what would you change (or did you change) to bring the recipe more in line with your tastes?

Note that almost all of these are vodka drinks. In case you don’t have vodka, I note common substitutions in a couple of cases; other substitutions won’t help me much, but you’re welcome to try them recreationally.

Greyhound
1 1/2 oz. Vodka
4 oz. Grapefruit Juice
Combine ingredients in a tall glass with ice and stir.

Salty Dog (Elaboration on the Greyhound)
Prepare in all respects like the Greyhound, but rim the glass with salt before making the drink. (For guidance on salting the rims of glasses, see the previous post.) The Salty Dog may also be made with gin in place of the vodka.

Cape Codder
1 1/2 oz. Vodka
4 oz. Cranberry Juice
Wedge of Lime
Combine liquid ingredients in a tall glass with ice and stir. Garnish with the lime (it is expected that the end user will squeeze the lime into their drink to their personal taste; the lime juice is actually essential to this drink).

Sea Breeze (Elaboration on the Cape Codder)

1 1/2 oz. Vodka
3 oz. Cranberry Juice
1 oz. Grapefruit Juice
Wedge of Lime
Combine liquid ingredients in a tall glass with ice and stir. Garnish with the lime, as in the Cape Codder.

Bay Breeze (Elaboration on the Cape Codder)
1 1/2 oz. Vodka
3 oz. Cranberry Juice
1 oz. Pineapple Juice
Wedge of Lime
Combine liquid ingredients in a tall glass with ice and stir. Garnish with the lime, as in the Cape Codder.

Screwdriver
1 1/2 oz. Vodka
4 oz. Orange Juice
Combine ingredients in a tall glass with ice and stir.

Harvey Wallbanger (Elaboration on the Screwdriver)
1 1/2 oz. Vodka
1/2 oz. Galliano
4 oz. Orange Juice
Combine vodka and orange juice in a tall glass with ice and stir. Float Galliano on top (i.e., pour it gently down the back of a spoon so it forms a layer above the rest; this is traditional for the Harvey Wallbanger, although why it became traditional to float a liqueur on top of a drink that’s nearly the same color, I do not know).

Further Elaborations on the Screwdriver
Back in the Disco Days, many drinks with “clever” and “risqué” names were created as riffs on the Screwdriver, in which some characteristic of the added or substituted ingredients became a descriptor for what kind of “Screw” the person wanted. I may or may not bother to share this information in Classic Cocktails, but if you’re bored at home, here are some Screw variations to play around with. Note that these are stackable - one can have, e.g., a Slow, Comfortable Screw Against the Wall, etc. - and that the Slow Screw is usually the base upon which the others are built:

Comfortable Screw - Add 1/2 oz. of Southern Comfort
Fuzzy Screw - Add 1/2 oz. of peach schnapps
Hard Screw - Add 1/4 oz. of overproof rum
Slow Screw - Add 1/2 oz. of Sloe Gin
Screw Against the Wall - Add 1/2 oz. of Galliano*
Screw on the Beach – Add 1/2 oz. of peach schnapps and replace half the OJ with cranberry juice
Screw with a Bang - (Same as Hard Screw)
Screw with a Kiss - Add 1/2 oz. of Amaretto
Screw with Satin Pillows - Add 1/2 oz. of Frangelico
Left-Handed Screw - Replace the vodka with gin
Mexican Screw – Replace the vodka with tequila (sometimes called “Screw, Mexican Style”)
Wild Screw - Replace the vodka with bourbon
Screw Between the Sheets - Replace the vodka with equal parts brandy and filtered aged rum†
Screw in the Dark - Replace the vodka with an aged or black rum†
Cold Screw - (Sometimes tacked on, referring to the ice)
Elderly Screw - Add 1/2 oz. of elderflower liqueur‡

Notes
(*) Generally if Galliano is the only thing added to the drink, it’s still called a Harvey Wallbanger. The “Against the Wall” moniker is deployed only when more than one Screw variation is employed simultaneously.

(†) For rum categorization reference, see the previous post about the Daiquiri. The aged and filtered style of rum common to Cuba and Puerto Rico and generally labeled as “white” seems like the most appropriate one for the Screw Between the Sheets, though if you don’t have that, choose a lighter-bodied “amber” rum aged 1-4 years should work. For the Screw in the Dark, I recommend an aged “amber” rum rather than a sweetened black rum, because the drink is already going to be fairly sugary; but this is a matter of personal taste.

(‡) St. Germain, the first elderflower liqueur, wasn’t released until 2007, long after the heyday of these Screwdriver elaborations. But it’s tasty, you can make a pun out of it at least as readily as you can with with the rest of these liqueurs, and these days it’s likelier to be in most homes than most of them are. So feel free to give it a try as an update to this tradition.

Distilled Knowledge Cocktail: The Greyhound

(Not sure what the title means? The Distilled Knowledge announcement should fill in the gaps.)

I'm counting down the days to publication with a series on the cocktails mentioned in Distilled Knowledge. They're an odd bunch, I'll grant, but each serves a purpose in the narrative.

Pride of place goes to the Greyhound, the cocktail that taught us not to mix grapefruit juice with medicine.

As you may have heard, it's a bad idea to drink grapefruit juice if you're on any kind of prescription drugs. It has a tendency to lead to higher-than-intended blood concentrations of your medications, with consequences that range from "mildly inconvenient" to "literally fatal."

You may not know that we learned this entirely by accident.

Researchers were studying the effects of ethanol on a blood pressure medication called felodipine. It was important for the experiment's success that the subjects not know whether they'd been given booze or not, so the researchers tried a variety of mixers (for science!) and concluded that the taste of the alcohol was best masked by grapefruit juice. 

In the course of the study, they found that their subjects' blood felodipine levels were higher than expected across the board. Imagine their surprise when they realized they'd made a major scientific discovery "following an assessment of every juice in a home refrigerator one Saturday evening."

Distilled Knowledge Greyhound
2 1/2 oz. Double-Strength White Grapefruit Juice
1/2 oz. Vodka
Stir with ice. Serve on the rocks.

If what you're looking for is a drink with the taste of the booze completely hidden, mixing five parts grapefruit juice with one part vodka is a surefire way to get there. It is not, however, the way the cocktail is ordinarily served; merely an approximation of the concoction the felodipine researchers were using.

Note that if you'd like to add felodipine to this drink and make a Felodipine Greyhound, do not do so under any circumstances. Did you know that it's possible for your blood pressure to be too low? It is, and you don't want to find out what that's like.

On the other hand, there are many other versions of the Greyhound that don't threaten your health nearly as much. These days, it's commonly made with a 3:2 or a 2:1 ration of grapefruit juice to vodka. Personally, I prefer the former; grapefruit juice can be quite a lot when it's the majority of a drink by volume.

Contemporary Greyhound
3 oz. Fresh Grapefruit Juice
2 oz. Vodka
Prepare as above.

I still advise stirring, because shaking a drink that's mostly juice by volume just seems excessive. Note that a fresh grapefruit will yield about 3 oz. of juice, and the Greyhound needn't be a particularly exact drink; if you'd like to remember the recipe as "two ounces of vodka and a grapefruit," I won't stop you.

With a pinch of salt and more around the rim, this becomes the Salty Dog, which I assume is so called because "salty Greyhound" doesn't have the same ring. 

With a gin base instead of a vodka one, it becomes...the Greyhound. Yes, this is one of the (many) cocktails that got its start as a gin drink and evolved into a vodka one as tastes changed.

It's first attested in the Savoy Cocktail Book, where it's mentioned as a variation on the older Grapefruit Cocktail, a concoction involving grapefruit jelly. In any case, it was a gin drink, and it would be some years before vodka came into vogue this far west.

Savoy Greyhound

"Take three and a half glasses of Gin and the juice of   1 1/2 good-sized Grapefruit. Sugar to taste, plenty of ice. Shake and serve."

Near as I can figure, that works out to about seven ounces of gin, four and a half ounces of grapefruit juice, and sugar to taste. This would have been a batch, with each drink closer to three ounces total. Still boozier than the modern version, and much ginnier-tasting. 

Once introduced to vodka, the Greyhound ran off with it and never looked back. And honestly, I can't blame it; I say this very rarely, but I think this drink makes more sense with vodka. It's a simple cocktail. It hits a few notes (sour, bitter, ethanol) and it hits them hard. Tossing juniper in there seems more distracting than enhancing in this case, and I expect most people who Really Like Gin will prefer not to cover its flavor with an even larger dose of grapefruit.

That'll do it for the first installment. Stay tuned for more!

Paloma

Paloma

2 oz 1800 Silver Tequila
Juice of 1/2 lime
Pinch of coarse salt
Fill with San Pellegrino pompelmo (grapefruit) soda
Plop rind of juiced lime into cocktail as garnish

Followers of the blog may remember the Paloma (Spanish for “dove”) from an ingredient challenge a while back. That time, you got a few informational links about the Paloma as a vehicle for Fresca. This time, we had San Pellegrino’s grapefruit soda on hand, and decided to make some ourselves.

The drink is very refreshing and ridiculously easy to make, accounting for its alleged popularity in Mexico. After one whiff of the tequila and grapefruit, I knew Wondrich had been right about the salt (see below). It balances out the tequila-citrus palate, just like it does in the Margarita and the familiar ritual of the tequila shot. Wondrich does call the drink “salty,” among other things, but if the salt flavor is particularly obvious, you’ve probably used too much.

Grapefruit affects the way things get absorbed by your body, meaning Palomas are more powerful than you might expect at first. They’ve also got a pretty high acid content to take on an empty stomach. In short, they’re not really brunch drinks. They’re siesta drinks.

Here’s the Wondrich write-up from Esquire, previously referred to:
http://www.esquire.com/drinks/la-paloma-drink-recipe#wondrich