Serious Eats: Recipes - Cocktail Concoctions

Time for a Drink: The Prescription Julep

2011-07-01T20:30:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

Okay, so maybe this drink isn't really medicine of the FDA-approved variety; I still believe in the Prescription Julep's curative properties, and dose myself with it liberally each summer to keep an assortment of seasonal malaises at bay.

According to David Wondrich, who wrote about this drink in Imbibe!, the Prescription Julep first appeared in print in 1857, and this is, he attests, the tastiest mint julep recipe in circulation: an opinion I heartily endorse. As I've mentioned before, bourbon gets all the press when it comes to mint juleps, but our ancestors weren't that picky; brandy was likely the original spirit in a mint julep, and in the julep's 19th-century heyday it wasn't unusual to see cognac, rye whiskey or rum appearing in this soothing refresher.

In lieu of bourbon, the Prescription Julep deploys a combination of two spirits that are absolutely made for each other: rye whiskey and cognac. As Wondrich notes, the plushness of brandy smoothes out the rye's spicy edges, and the spark of the rye perks up the brandy. Simply add mint, sugar and a plenty of ice, and the result is a relatively simple drink that's uncommonly tasty.

(And with the Fourth of July coming up, should you prefer to stick to American booze in keeping with the spirit of the holiday, here's a suggestion: for cognac, substitute the luscious brandy from Germain-Robin, made in California. It's gorgeous stuff, and works great in this drink.)

Special equipment: muddler or wooden spoon, bar spoon

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 2 minutes, total time 2 minutes

1 1/2 ounces VSOP cognac or other good brandy
1/2 ounce rye whiskey
2 teaspoons sugar (to taste), dissolved in 1/2 ounce water
2 sprigs fresh mint, plus more for garnish

Procedures

Place the sugar and water in a tall glass or julep cup and muddle until sugar is dissolved.
Add mint leaves to the sugar syrup and gently press to release the flavorful oil (don't get too aggressive: smashing up the mint releases bitterness in the leaves)
Add the spirits and stir to combine. Fill glass with crushed ice and stir with bar spoon until the glass begins to frost, adding more crushed ice if needed. Garnish with a fresh sprig of mint; serve with a straw.

Time for a Drink: the Gin-Gin Mule

2011-06-24T20:30:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

As I wrote on Wednesday, the broad family of tall, fizzy drinks that includes the Collins, the buck, the fizz and the rickey is essential to have in the summer arsenal because of the drinks' superb cooling powers. Most of these drinks are incredibly simple to make, but there are also the complex cousins, the drinks that may throw in an extra ingredient or two to rev up the flavor and character. Here's one of the best recent formulations that fits into this fizzy family: the Gin Gin Mule.

Developed around a decade ago by Pegu Club owner Audrey Saunders, the Gin Gin Mule now appears on the cocktail menus at dozens of bars around the world, for one basic reason: it's absolutely freakin' delicious. This drink takes the basic "mule"—pretty much the same thing as a buck, which is a drink with liquor, ginger ale or ginger beer and lemon or lime juice—and adds a couple of tweaks: first, fresh mint is added to the drink, which seems to magnify its cooling properties; and second, Saunders developed the drink using house-made ginger beer, which has a spicy bite difficult to find in commercial brands.

Not that you can't go at this using a bottled ginger beer (not ginger ale, which is a much milder kinda thing). If you take this approach, you may want to adjust the amount of simple syrup to account for the sweetness in your ginger beer (you're just going to have to go by taste, here, depending on the brand you're using—bottled ginger beers are all over the map when it comes to sugar). You'll also want to go as spicy as you can with the ginger beer: Blenheim is the spiciest I've found, and there are some ginger beers from Jamaica I've come across in specialty shops that convey the desired bite. If you can't find a suitably spicy ginger beer, one way to amp up the ginger flavor is to muddle a slice or two of fresh ginger in the shaker before adding the mint, then proceed as before.

Oh, and for gin: reach for something with a little juniper backbone, such as Tanqueray or Beefeater; these drier, old-school London drys stand up nicely in tall, citrusy drinks like this.

Special equipment: muddler, cocktail shaker, strainer

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 2 minutes, total time 2 minutes

10 mint leaves
1/2 ounce simple syrup (or to taste)
1/2 ounce lime juice
ice
1 1/2 ounces gin
2 ounces chilled ginger beer
garnish: lime wedge and mint sprig

Procedures

In a cocktail shaker, lightly muddle mint leaves with simple syrup and lime juice.
Add gin and fill with ice; shake gently until chilled (you don't want to smash the mint to smithereens), about 10 seconds. Strain into a highball glass filled with ice, add ginger beer and stir. Garnish with lime wedge or mint sprig, or both.

Time for a Drink: (Not Exactly A) Painkiller

2011-06-17T20:00:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

I'm all for being the kind of renaissance person who dabbles in a number of different fields and professions and who mashes together concepts like "laundromat" and "bar", but sometimes there needs to be boundaries.

As I mentioned on Wednesday, last week we saw what can happen when the tiki bar—which by all reckoning should be the kind of place where strict rules are viewed with some skepticism—encounters the rigid realm of trademark law. To recap the story: it ain't pretty.

But it's Friday, so to hell with it—let's mix a drink.

First things first: this is not a Painkiller. This may resemble that drink that originated some 40 years ago at the Soggy Dollar Bar in the British Virgin Islands, but the Painkiller was adopted as the mascot drink by Pusser's Rum around a decade after its birth (the drink's birth, that is—Pusser's didn't appear in bars or liquor stores as a brand until the Painkiller had already collected a few notches in its swizzle stick, one for every circuit around the sun). So much did Pusser's founder love—or something—the mixture, the company trademarked the drink as Pusser's Painkiller.

Nowadays, play loose with that drink's name and/or formulation, and you'll have Pusser's attorneys nosing around, as the owners of the New York bar PKNY (formerly known as Painkiller) have discovered. (And before you lawyer types start wrangling in the comments again over what can and can't be trademarked and all the nuances in trademark law, remember—this is Friday. Mix-a-Drink time. Boundaries, as I said—put down your briefcase and pick up your tiki mug. Shhh.... Or, if you just can't let it go, head over here, where someone's dug into the legal aspects of this case much more than I can.)

So, once more: not a Painkiller—but pretty damn close. So close, in fact, that if you're one of those people who heard of the legal tussle between Pusser's and the New York tiki bar that's now likely using Pusser's rum only to scrub its toilets, and came away thinking, "That makes me want to buy Pusser's Rum to support the company"—apparently there's at least one of them in this world—you could easily make this recipe into a legit Painkiller. All you'd need to do is to swap out the two (good-to-excellent) rums I have listed here—which together produce a taste similar to that of Pusser's except slightly, oh, better —and substitute an equal measure of Pusser's.

Smith & Cross has a gaminess of flavor (and a higher proof) that works well; if you can't get it, try harder—and if that's not an option, substitute Appleton Estate Extra. Likewise for the Cruzan Single Barrel; if you don't have any on hand, go with something suitably mellow and aged, like Bacardi 8 or Mount Gay Eclipse. Really, use whatever rum you find works best in this—I promise: I won't sue.

Special equipment: cocktail shaker, ice crusher (or clean dishtowel and a mallet), attorney

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 2 minutes (which probably somehow translates into 2 billable hours), total time 2 minutes

4 ounces unsweetened pineapple juice
1 ounce fresh orange juice
1 ounce coconut cream
1 ounce Smith & Cross Jamaican rum
1 ounce Cruzan Single Barrel rum
crushed ice
ground cinnamon and nutmeg, for garnish
orange wheel, pineapple spear, and cinnamon stick, for garnish

Procedures

Combine juices, coconut cream, and both rums in a cocktail shaker and fill with crushed ice. Shake well until chilled, about 10 seconds; pour (unstrained) into tall glass or tiki mug. Dust top of drink with cinnamon and nutmeg; garnish with orange wheel, pineapple spear and cinnamon stick.

Time for a Drink: the Two-One-Two

2011-06-13T21:00:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

As I mentioned last week, the tequila category is evolving in ways that aren't always pleasant, with a few major brands changing in character (not for the better) and some new arrivals on the tequila scene lacking much substance at all.

That's not to say all's lost—far from it. The growing demand for tequila over the past 20 years has brought its fair share of benefits, including a number of excellent brands (which for the moment still outweigh the stinkers), a more widespread interest in quality agave spirits, and a boom in cocktail creativity.

Here's a recent-ish tequila cocktail that's excellent for an early summer heat wave: the Two-One-Two.

Created by New York bartender and consultant Willy Shine, the Two-One-Two is brilliantly simple, yet has an engagingly complex flavor. Composed of a base of reposado tequila—Partida, one of the better brands to emerge in recent years, is recommended here—the Two-One-Two includes a couple of the agave spirit's most agreeable companions: fresh grapefruit juice, and the Italian amaro Aperol, a bright, bitter liqueur rich with orange peel and rhubarb. With the appearance of liquid sunshine and a crisp, tart flavor, the Two-One-Two is an essential addition to the summer's beverage arsenal.

Special equipment: cocktail shaker, strainer

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 1 minute, total time 1 minute

2 ounces reposado tequila (Partida recommended)
1 ounce Aperol
2 ounces grapefruit juice
ice

Procedures

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker and fill with ice. Shake well until chilled, about 10 seconds. Strain into a rocks glass filled with fresh ice.

Time for a Drink: the Moscow Mule

2011-06-03T20:00:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

Vodka may be the most prominent single spirit on the back bar today, but in the 1940s, it was a very different situation.

The story goes that in 1941, in an effort to market the then-exotic Russian spirit, executives from Heublein—then owners of Smirnoff vodka—collaborated with the owner of the Cock 'n Bull Tavern in Hollywood to create this simple, memorable drink composed of vodka, ginger beer, and lime juice, served over ice in a copper mug. Wildly popular among the movie crowd in Los Angeles, the Moscow Mule caught on elsewhere and for a brief while was one of the most popular drinks of the era.

Though its moment in the spotlight may have been short, the Moscow Mule had one lingering effect: it introduced countless drinkers to the vodka experience, and set a series of changes in motion that, several decades later, would take the spirit to the top of the sales charts.

As I wrote on Wednesday, I'm not really much of a vodka drinker, but I make the occasional exception for the Moscow Mule. Crisp and refreshing, and cooling on a warm summer evening, the Moscow Mule is a vodka drink that can appeal to vodkaphobes, and one of the few classic cocktails that can satisfy vodka drinkers who'll touch nothing but.

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 1 minute, total time 1 minute

1/2 a lime
ice
2 ounces vodka
4 to 6 ounces chilled ginger beer

Procedures

Squeeze lime into a Collins glass (or copper mug, if you've got one) and drop in the spent lime shell. Fill glass with ice and add vodka; top with chilled ginger beer to taste.

Plymouth Pilgrims' Punch

2011-05-27T20:00:00Z

Anybody can ice down a cooler of beer or a chill a few bottles of rosé for an outdoor party. But as I wrote on Wednesday, preparing a large-format punch or pitchers of drinks for your guests is a way to bump up the celebratory spirit without sapping your own time to mingle.

The Plymouth Pilgrims' Punch doesn't have much of a back story. Created by drinks writer David Wondrich as a mashup of several recipes from Cooling Cups and Dainty Drinks, from 1869, and included in his book Punch (and also in the sadly departed Gourmet as Gowanus Club Gin Punch, and slightly revamped at Gilt Taste as the Golden Fleece Punch), the punch is composed of a few simple, though flavorful, ingredients. It's also relatively easy to prepare (though there is some work involved), and its flavor is just exciting enough for adventurous tipplers without being so potent, funky or generally weird that it could scare off casual imbibers.

You do need to plan in advance, though—the punch is sweetened and made lusciously rich with pineapple syrup, which doesn't require a lot of work but does take some time to soak. And don't be turned off from the punch if you don't have or don't like yellow Chartreuse; simply substitute another liqueur, preferably a good one (in other words, nix on the Apple Pucker), and you'll have the accent you're looking for.

This recipe makes around 14 cups of punch, and is easily doubled or tripled depending on the size and thirst of your party. If you're serving it all at once to a big crowd, you can simply knock everything together except for the fizz, chill it in the fridge, add the soda at the last minute and serve it over ice.

If it's a smaller gathering, though, and your punch might be consumed over an afternoon, you have a couple of options: one is to put everything into a punch bowl (better yet, use an insulated beverage cooler—it fits the barbecue-casual vibe well, and has the added benefit of keeping the bugs out of the booze), and add a large chunk of ice (simply fill a metal mixing bowl or similar container with water and place in the freezer overnight); or, combine everything except the club soda and chill it in the fridge, then ration it out in pitchers to which you'll add the club soda just prior to serving, and keep it cool with a large chunk of ice made by filling a clean juice-concentrate container with water and freezing overnight.

Made with a little care, the punch is cold, fizzy, flavorful, and just strong enough to get the party started.

Special equipment: muddler, sharp vegetable peeler

Ingredients

serves 14, active time 20 minutes, total time around 12 hours

4 cups demerara sugar
2 cups water
1 pineapple, peeled, cored, and diced
3 lemons, washed
2 ounces superfine sugar
3 bags green tea
1 quart hot water
1 liter Plymouth gin
1 ounce yellow Chartreuse or other liqueur of your choice
1 cup fresh lemon juice
1 liter chilled seltzer

Procedures

Make a rich syrup by combining demerara sugar and 2 cups water over medium-low heat, whisking until sugar is completely dissolved. Let cool.
Add pineapple cubes to the syrup and cover. Let soak overnight at room temperature. Strain the pineapple from the flavored syrup (don't discard the fruit—it's tasty).
Use a sharp vegetable peeler or paring knife to remove the zest from three lemons; avoid the bitter white pith. Place the zest in a bowl and add the superfine sugar. Mash with a wooden muddler until the mixture is fragrant and the lemon oil combines with the sugar to make a thick paste. Let rest one hour, then remove the bits of peel (or leave them in as garnish).
Prepare a weak green tea by soaking 3 tea bags in one quart hot water for three minutes; let cool.
Combine the gin, Chartreuse (or other liqueur), tea, lemon/sugar mixture, lemon juice, and four ounces of the pineapple syrup, and stir until sugar is dissolved. Chill until ready to serve.
To serve, add one liter chilled seltzer and ice.

Time for a Drink: the Chancellor Cocktail

2011-05-20T21:00:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

As I mentioned in yesterday's column, scotch whisky is the bully in the sandbox when it comes to playing well with other ingredients in a cocktail. Blame it on the barley, or the smoke, or the pot-still oiliness—whatever the reason, scotch is just too individualistic of a spirit to want to share the spotlight in mixed drinks.

There are exceptions, of course, and here's one: the Chancellor.

As cocktail historian David Wondrich notes in Esquire Drinks, where I first came across this drink, the Chancellor is a close relative of another scotch cocktail, the Rob Roy, with a couple of interesting twists. In place of the Rob Roy's bittersweet tang from Italian vermouth, the Chancellor relies on the robust richness of port, its gentle sweetness tempered by a little dry vermouth.

Unusual? Certainly, but when mixing with such a sometimes surly spirit as scotch, you have to be willing to accept a few eccentricities.

Special equipment: bar spoon, mixing glass, strainer

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 1 minute, total time 1 minute

2 ounces blended scotch whisky
1 ounce ruby port
1/2 ounce dry vermouth
2 dashes orange bitters

Procedures

Combine ingredients in a mixing glass and fill with ice. Stir well until chilled, about 30 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass.

Time for a Drink: the Lion's Tail

2011-05-13T20:00:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

There should really be a good backstory that goes with the Lion's Tail, but if there is one, I haven't found it. This rich, spicy mixture debuted in the 1930s, an unlikely mixture of bourbon, lime juice and the allspice liqueur known as "pimento dram". Right there in that simple list of ingredients, there are a few oddities that accompany this surprisingly satisfying drink.

First: bourbon with lime juice? Lemon, of course—add some sugar and you have a whiskey sour, one of the most simple and agreeable drinks ever made—but lime? Who the hell does such a thing?

Then, there's the pimento dram, an ivory-billed woodpecker of an ingredient that enjoyed at least a tiny bit of popularity from around the 1930s to the 1970s, when it appeared in assorted bit roles in Polynesian-esque punches, tiki drinks and assorted exotic-styled tipples, before going all but extinct pretty much everywhere except Jamaica in the latter part of the 20th century (only to be revived and recreated in the past few years as a "forgotten" cocktail ingredient). Finally, allspice with bourbon? Just about every reference to the liqueur I can recall has it joining rum, with which it marries exceptionally well, but putting it in a bourbon drink (and with lime, at that) would seem to put an odd Jamaican slant on a drink based on the spirit of Kentucky.

But, it works—and how. Rich, spicy and just tart enough to keep things interesting, the Lion's Tail may look weird on paper or in pixels, but in the glass? A keeper.

Special equipment: cocktail shaker, strainer

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 1 minute, total time 1 minute

2 ounces bourbon
1/2 ounce fresh lime juice
1/2 ounce allspice liqueur
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 teaspoon simple syrup (or less, to taste)

Procedures

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker and fill with ice. Shake well and strain into chilled cocktail glass.

Time for a Drink: the Nouveau Carre

2011-05-06T20:30:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

As I mentioned on Wednesday, the Mexican spirit known as sotol can be hard to track down in the U.S., and cocktail recipes calling for sotol—well, those are pretty much nonexistent.

But sotol and its cousin, tequila, aren't really so different; sure, they're made from different (though related) plants, but flavorwise they're quite similar, so it's simple enough to plug sotol into recipes that ordinarily call for tequila, especially those for spirit-forward drinks in which the nuanced flavor has a better chance to shine. Here's an excellent drink originally made with anejo tequila that's also worth trying with the gentle richness of aged sotol: the Nouveau Carre.

Inspired by the New Orleans classic Vieux Carre, the Nouveau Carre adds a couple of tweaks to the recipe, not only substituting anejo tequila for rye and cognac, but swapping the original's sweet vermouth for the light orangey brightness of Lillet.

Two remarkably similar versions of this drink exist, one from Jonny Raglin in San Francisco (at Absinthe at the time the drink debuted, Raglin now helms the bar at Comstock Saloon), and the other from Kacy Fitch at Zig Zag Café in Seattle; the recipe below splits the minor differences between the two, and also offers the alternative of substituting anejo sotol for the drink's original anejo tequila.

Special equipment: mixing glass, bar spoon, strainer

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 1 minute, total time 1 minute

1 1/2 ounces anejo tequila (or anejo sotol)
3/4 ounce Benedictine
1/4 ounce Lillet
3 dashes Peychaud's bitters
ice
lemon twist, for garnish

Procedures

Combine tequila (or sotol), Benedictine, Lillet, and bitters in a mixing glass and fill with ice. Stir until well chilled, about 30 seconds. Strain into chilled coupe glass; twist lemon peel over drink and use as garnish.

Decolletage

2011-05-04T18:57:00Z

This recipe from Chris Hannah of French 75 Bar in New Orleans was chosen as one of the 101 Best New Cocktails to be included in Gaz Regan's 2011 Annual Manual for Bartenders. It's fragrant and slightly mentholated, with hints of sweet orange and cinnamony spice. Not for the timid, but seductive all the same.

Special equipment: cocktail strainer

Ingredients

serves 1

1 1/2 ounces reposado tequila
1 ounce Dubonnet Rouge
1/2 ounce Aperol
1/4 ounce Fernet Branca
garnish: orange twist

Procedures

Stir over ice and strain into an ice-filled brandy snifter (or double old-fashioned glass). Break orange twist over the drink, then add as garnish.

Time for a Drink: Between the Sheets

2011-04-29T21:00:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

The name may come across as downright demure in this era of porn-star rum and drinks dubbed the Screaming Orgasm or Slippery Nipple (and that's not even mentioning more recent, explicitly named drinks—this is a family joint, after all), but the Between the Sheets bordered on the eye-winkingly naughty when it debuted in the early 1930s.

Simply a variation on the Sidecar, the Between the Sheets takes the classic trio of cognac, lemon, and orange liqueur and tinkers with the flavor by swapping out part of the base spirit for the brighter character of light rum. The taste is still Sidecar-ish, but there's a little rummy extra in the mix.

This recipe is an adaptation of an adaptation; early versions called for just a dab of lemon, which makes way too sweet and strong of a drink, and should you find this version still on the sweet side, just squeeze in a little more lemon juice.

For best results, use a more full-flavored light rum such as that from Flor de Cana or Banks 5 Island, or vary from the recipe (as I did in the photo) by going for a darker aged rum. Should you be looking for a way to use that bottle of Ron de Jeremy you bought for the novelty of it, it's probably not only keeping in character but also flavorfully appropriate to toss a little of that into the Between the Sheets. I also suggest using Cointreau in lieu of another triple sec; it's more expensive, yes, but that's for a very good reason—plus, with nouveau-burlesque star Dita von Teese as its spokesmodel, it's also in keeping with the drink's wink-wink nudge-nudge theme.

Special equipment: cocktail shaker, strainer

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 1 minute, total time 1 minute

3/4 ounce cognac
3/4 ounce light rum (or aged rum if you prefer)
3/4 ounce Cointreau
1/2 ounce fresh lemon juice

Procedures

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker and fill with ice. Shake well until chilled, about 10 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass.

Time for a Drink: Arancio Americano

2011-04-22T20:00:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

The bitter liqueur Campari can take some getting used to. Garnet red and with an aggressively bitter edge, Campari's a fright to many on first exposure—but, like many initially disagreeable things in life, Campari has a way of turning startled first-timers into passionate devotees, with the aid of a little time and a few more drinks.

Developed by legendary barman Dale DeGroff for the 2007 opening of Morandi in New York (this recipe comes from DeGroff's The Essential Cocktail), the Arancio Americano takes the bright bite of a classic Americano highball, and smooths it out with components of a brunchtime favorite, the Mimosa.

The base of vermouth and Campari gives the drink two-thirds of the complex character of the Negroni, while fresh orange lends a little sweetness and chilled prosecco makes the mix a perfectly suave refresher, seemingly custom built for a spring afternoon.

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 1 minute, total time 1 minute

ice
3/4 ounce sweet vermouth
1/2 ounce Campari
1 ounce fresh orange juice
2 ounces chilled prosecco

Procedures

Fill a wine glass with ice and add vermouth, Campari and orange juice. Gently stir to combine; top with chilled prosecco.

Time for a Drink: the Apple Blow Fizz

2011-04-15T20:30:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

Even on the sunniest of spring days, winter has a way of letting you know it's not completely out of the game. As tempting as it is to head outside without a jacket—your t-shirt a symbol of exuberant optimism for the warm weather that's surely here to stay, as well as a figurative middle finger to the cold weather that's just GOT to be behind us—we've all learned at some point in our lives that such a gesture is just begging for trouble.

Sure, it was nice and warm when you stepped out, and if it were July then you'd have no reason to worry; but it's April, and there's a freezing shower or a frigid breeze just waiting for you to get far enough from your house, office or car before it catches you by surprise, chilling you through your skin in a successful effort to remind you that winter's going to take its own sweet time sashaying out the seasonal door.

When I wrote about springtime drinks on Wednesday, common elements included the bright snap of citrus and the cooling draught of bubbles.The Apple Blow Fizz has both of these features, but rather than a base of gin or light rum—which would take the drink in a summery, shorts-and-sandals direction—it's built on apple brandy, which with its depth of flavor and implied warmth of character is like the sweater that experience has taught you to keep close by on an early spring day.

Is the drink cool and refreshing? Absolutely—but just in case the weather should change, the Apple Blow Fizz can easily slip into cool-weather comfort mode.

Special equipment: cocktail shaker, strainer

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 2 minutes, total time 2 minutes

1 1/2 ounces apple brandy (Laird's 100-proof is recommended)
3/4 ounce fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon sugar
white of 1 egg (if it's a large egg, that's sufficient for two drinks)
chilled club soda

Procedures

Combine everything except club soda in a cocktail shaker and vigorously shake, without ice, until mixture is foamy, about 10 seconds.
Fill shaker with ice and vigorously shake again until drink is well chilled and very foamy, about 10 seconds.
Strain into chilled highball glass. Add about two ounces of chilled club soda, which should produce a thick, foamy head.

Time for a Drink: the Singapore Sling

2011-04-08T20:30:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

Of all the drinks that have been mangled over the years, perhaps no recipe has been more tromped upon than that for the drink with one of the greatest names in mixology: the Singapore Sling.

The Singapore Sling (in the form of its ancestral relative, the Straights Sling) dates to the closing years of the 19th century. By the 1920s, the drink had adopted its more familiar moniker and was associated with the Long Bar at the Raffles Hotel in Singapore, which continues to serve the sling as its house drink.

It would seem to be a simple matter to just cite Raffles' recipe as the preferred mix, except for a couple of problems: first, all convenient barroom legends and Wikipedia listings aside, the drink didn't originate at Raffles, and there are related though different recipes that share top billing for "original"; and second, the version of the Singapore Sling currently served at Raffles Hotel is, from the numerous accounts I've heard (not having had an opportunity to visit Singapore), so saccharine-sweet and gloopy as to be undrinkable.

I can't say for sure if this recipe below is the original—nobody can, so I'm off the hook on that one—but as cocktail historian David Wondrich points out in this month's Esquire (from which this recipe is taken), this version can lay some claim to historical authenticity, but even more important, it falls into the category of "delicious".

Which, after all, is what it's all about.

Special equipment: Collins glass

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 1 minute, total time 1 minute

ice
1 ounce gin (Tanqueray or Beefeater recommended)
1 ounce fresh lime juice
1 ounce Cherry Heering or Bols Cherry Brandy
1 ounce Benedictine (optional)
chilled club soda
3 dashes Angostura bitters
optional: pineapple spear, cherry, and/or orange slice for garnish

Procedures

Combine gin, lime juice, Cherry Heering, and Benedictine in a Collins glass filled with ice. Top with club soda, and dash bitters into the drink. Garnish with a pineapple spear, cherry, orange slice or nothing at all.

Time for a Drink: the White Manhattan

2011-04-01T21:30:00Z

[Photograph: Paul Clarke]

Every spirit seems to have its fleeting moment, and for white whiskey (aka white dog, the form whiskey takes before it goes into the barrel for aging), it seemed like 2010 was gonna be it. But as I wrote on Wednesday, Heaven Hill Distillery—one of the big guns in American whiskey—just released uncut, unaged versions of their rye and one of their bourbon recipes, which could prolong white dog's day in the sun.

While tasting new-make whiskey can be an educational exercise, demonstrating as it does what bourbon or rye tastes like before it spends several years in a charred oak barrel, white whiskey has also made its way into a few cocktails where its character can be appreciated on its own merits. Here's the best one I've had so far: the White Manhattan.

Created by San Francisco bartender and globe-trotting whiskey fiend Neyah White, the White Manhattan takes one of the 19th century models of a Manhattan—whiskey, vermouth, bitters, and a trace of liqueur just because—and tweaks it to accommodate the bright, malty flavor of new-make whiskey. In lieu of a Manhattan's standard sweet vermouth, which is a dusky red, the White Manhattan utilizes lighter-colored though still gently sweet blanc vermouth; and for added sweetness, as well as an herbaceous richness, the drink is laced with the French herbal liqueur Benedictine.

Light in character yet full-flavored and complex, the White Manhattan is a great way to give white dog a mixological workout.

Special equipment: mixing glass, bar spoon, strainer

Ingredients

serves 1, active time 1 minute, total time 1 minute

1 1/2 ounces white whiskey
1/2 ounce blanc vermouth (Dolin preferred)
1/2 ounce Benedictine
3 dashes orange bitters

Procedures

Combine ingredients in a mixing glass and fill with ice. Stir well until chilled, about 30 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass.