The Scofflaw is a classic cocktail made from rye whiskey, dry vermouth, fresh lemon juice and grenadine made from pomegranates. According to Ted Haigh’s Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails (one of my favourite books at the moment), it was invented in 1924 and the word “scofflaw” refers to someone who flouts prohibition by going to speakeasies (incidentally, it was also the name of a Seinfeld episode).

I first tried the Scofflaw at Eau De Vie when one of their bartenders, Dr Phil, was kind enough to make it on request. The result was great – more subtle and smooth than I’d have thought – and Phil said he modified the original recipe slightly to have a higher proportion of rye and lemon juice to make it less sweet.

It’s with these expectations of what the drink can taste like that I now order it at Passage while my companion, the Amazonian Croatian, opts for the Professor Plum, which is basically a plum pisco sour.

Instead of being served in the traditional cocktail glass, the Passage’s Scofflaw is served in a tumbler. The colour is a vibrant pomegranate red and there’s an orange peel floating on top. Thinking it might be too sweet I take a taste but the result is beautiful, to the point where I’m not sure whether I prefer this version or Dr Phil’s (not, of course, that it’s a competition). Both are complex in terms of flavour and I would certainly flout prohibition laws to drink either. Incidentally, the Passage’s version also adds a dash of orange bitters.

The plum pisco sour is made with macerated plums, lemon juice, plum pisco and vanilla sugar syrup and also pleasantly exceeds our expectations. Served in a wine glass with a lemon twist, this is a spicy (in a clove/cinnamon kind of way) and aromatic cocktail that’s a great variation on the original.

We also order three dishes.

On the plus side, we love the pork belly served with corn puree and blackbean vinaigrette. The pork belly is amongst the tastiest I’ve ever had – and I’ve had a lot – with the only criticism being that the skin, even though it looks crispy, is soft – but the belly’s depth of flavour more than makes up for it.

On the down side, neither of us are keen on the vodka-cured salmon with beetroot puree and baby coriander. Actually, the menu says there’s baby coriander but we can’t see any on our plate, which is a pity since it might have lifted the salmon’s flavour, which to us is a little bland – and the beetroot puree’s flavour is so overpowering that it dominates rather than adds to the salmon in our opinion. However, we do like the grilled bread that the salmon’s served on.

We also like the stuffed zucchini flowers with goats cheese and truffle honey – and the truffle honey really makes this dish worthwhile.

The Passage’s atmosphere is low lit, stylish and hip (I know it’s not hip to say hip, but I’m trying to bring the word back. I’m also fond of saying funky, groovy and right-on) and while we’re there the music, which is quiet enough for conversation, includes Amy Winehouse to Fleetwood Mac. With great service and a cocktail menu that respects the classics (next time I go I’ll try their negroni) I think this is a great bar to check out.

Now it’s your turn – how do you rate The Passage?
Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

The Passage, 231A Victoria Street, Darlinghurst. Phone 9358 6116 or see The Passage website

View Larger Map

Related posts:

1. The Victoria Room – Darlinghurst
2. Rambutan – Darlinghurst
3. Piano Room – Kings Cross

Call me simple, call me alcoholic, but when I walked past the Flying Fajita Sistas, a Mexican restaurant in Glebe, the other week and saw over 25 tequilas and 17 Mexican-inspired cocktails on the menu I knew I had to go there. The fact they serve food, I reasoned, could only be a bonus.

I turn up the following Thursday evening with the Amazonian Croatian at 6.30pm (she likes to have her margaritas immediately after work) and I order The Sistas, which is really just a standard margarita made with XXX tequila, triple sec and lime juice, while the Croatian goes for the El Diablorita margarita (XXX tequila, Cassis and lime juice).

XXX isn’t exactly a top-shelf tequila but it works well in margaritas as The Sistas proves (incidentally, a bartender I know has a theory that standard tequilas work well in margaritas because of their robust flavour, whereas top shelf tequilas are meant for sipping straight).

The El Diablorita isn’t as good as The Sistas – it’s not bad, but I just don’t think cassis mixes as well with tequila as triple sec or Cointreau does.

For the sake of responsibility the Croatian and I also order some food. I try the chicken fajitas, which are great: smoky, charred and almost perfect and the Croatian gets the tamales. This is a traditional South American meal made from masa (a corn-based dough) that’s cooked within a leaf wrapper and with an extra filling of chicken with mole rojo (a spicy sauce with chilli and a touch of chocolate). The tamales are good for what they are but I keep catching the Croatian eyeing off my fajitas with envy.

I try to appease her by ordering her The Classic, which is what the Flying Fajita Sistas call their top-shelf margarita made with 1800 blanco tequila. At $16.50 it’s four dollars more than The Sistas and, while it’s nice, neither of us can really say it’s better than the cheaper cocktail.

What I do like about the Flying Fajita Sistas is that they serve sangrita with their top-shelf tequilas. Sangrita (not to be confused with sangria) is a traditional Mexican chaser that’s meant to be drunk with tequila. There is no definitive sangrita recipe, at least as far as I can tell, but it’s usually made from orange juice and chilli with maybe some lime juice and some pomegranate-based grenadine (and not the cordial you buy from your local liquor store) – although some also add tomato to the mix. The sangrita at Flying Fajita Sistas seems to have a lot of tomato in it, perhaps too much – but I’m still impressed they have sangrita at all.

We order two tequila shots: the Trago Reposado and the Silver Patron, and I find myself preferring the Trago whereas the Croatian swears by the Patron (incidentally, “reposado” means that a tequila has been aged in oak barrels for a minimum of two months, usually more). Each of our tequilas have different flavours but both are a world away from the cheap tequila shots of my youth (or of last Friday) in terms of smoothness and quality.

The atmosphere in Flying Fajita Sistas matches the restaurant’s name in that it’s more fun than sophisticated. There are retro Mexican posters and drink trays on the walls, which are painted in pastel colours; quiet Mexican music plays in the background and there’s a tall hot sauce rack that’s called the Wall of Pain. Yet for all the kitsch, the food and tequila here are seriously worth checking out – even though I would like to see less tomato (and more chilli) in their sangrita.

Now it’s your turn – how do you rate Flying Fajita Sistas ?
Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

Flying Fajita Sistas, 65 Glebe Point Rd, Glebe. Phone 9552 6522 or see the Flying Fajita Sistas website
Open 7 days 6pm until late.

View Larger Map

Related posts:

1. Guzman Y Gomez – Newtown
2. Different Drummer – Glebe
3. Café Pacifico – East Sydney / Darlinghurst

There’s a ridiculously large number of wine glasses hanging above the bar counter (2682, to be exact, lined in eight tiers), dark wood paneling and a quiet, intimate atmosphere that attracts the powerbrokers working in the area (almost everyone here wears suits).

Sitting at the counter with two friends who had been here before, we all ordered the Wagyu burger, onion rings and double-cooked chips and I also grabbed an Adonis cocktail to wash it down.

The Adonis is a classic cocktail you hardly ever see these days. The menu says it’s made from dry sherry, sweet vermouth and Angostura bitters (although it’s usually made with orange bitters) and the result is high octane and a little too rich for my liking. However, I am impressed with the burger, which is topped with bacon, gruyere cheese and pickle – in fact, it’s possibly the best (and most decadent) burger I’ve had in Sydney (although I am becoming addicted to the Grill’d burgers you can now find around Sydney).

Fast forward a month or so (at my age keeping track of time is becoming increasingly hard) and I go back to Rockpool Bar & Grill with the Amazonian Croatian, who I’ve lured here with tales of sophistication and onion rings.

It’s a Wednesday night and I confidently stride up to the bar, only to see all the stools full. Never mind – prepared and happy to stand at the bar, we look through the menu and order the rum and raisin sazerac for myself and the Fleming blazer for the Croatian from an unsmiling bartender who directs us to get a table.

Now, I wouldn’t say he was rude, and if this bar truly were in Manhattan (or if he looked under the pump) then the cold reception might even be expected, but …

Well, let’s just say it didn’t feel welcoming.

We find a table tucked away to the side (our appetite for onion rings subsiding) and the Croatian suggests that maybe, because they have table service here, I was pushing things by going directly to the bar. When she says this I then wonder if the bartender even took our order or if he was implying we needed to sit and wait for someone to take our order but, before long, a friendly hostess delivers our drinks.

On the downside, the sazerac is disappointing. In addition to the usual sazerac ingredients of cognac, Peychaud’s bitters (and sometimes Angostura as well) and an absinthe rinse, the Rockpool version also has St Lucian rum steeped with raisins and Pedro Ximenez sherry added to it. However, the rum and raisin flavours dominate the drink, to the point where the alchemy of the cognac, bitters and absinthe seem – in my humble opinion – sadly overwhelmed.

On the plus side, the Fleming blazer is great – made with Hennessey VSOP, Yellow Chartreuse, Lagavulin (an Islay single malt whisky), ginger and honey syrup, all of which is flamed with Peychaud’s bitters, this is aromatic to the point where it can knock you out and yet subtle and balanced. My only criticism is that a blazer is such a theatrical drink to make thanks to its use of flame (traditionally it even involves passing the flaming ingredients from one mixing glass to another) that it’s a pity we missed it from our table in exile.

In fact, the blazer almost redeems our experience of Rockpool’s bar – at least until, after failing to get the attention of a hostess and in want of water, I then hazard going to the bar. There, like a leper, I wait, and wait, and wait while the bartender looks at me before continuing with whatever he’s doing. Now, I have full respect for bartenders who have their hands full and have to deal with impatient customers – but this time I really do feel like I’m just being ignored. After a while I give up and slink back to the table where we finish our drinks and leave.

As such, I’m in two minds about this bar. I love the décor, the hostess was friendly, the burger and onion rings were heavenly and the blazer was beautifully made. But between the sazerac and the cold bar service I’m not in a rush to go back any time soon.

Now it’s your turn – how do you rate Rockpool bar?
Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

Rockpool Bar & Grill, 66 Hunter Street, Sydney. See the Rockpool bar website. Open Monday to Saturday.

View Larger Map

No related posts.

The first time I come here it’s with a small group of people and three things stood out:

1) The saffron icecream that could have come from an episode of Iron Chef in terms of highlighting its signature ingredient (it was gorgeous)
2) The plates made from a local potter that look like they came from The Flintstones
3) The Ataahua Hybrid cocktail

The Ataahua Hybrid is made from kiwi vodka, lychee liqueur, Cointreau, apple and kiwifruit and is a fruity cocktail where the kiwifruit flavour is dominant. In other words, it tastes more tiki than girlie (at least, that’s what I tell myself to assuage my masculine view of myself) and I find myself liking it.

I come back the following week with the Amazonian Croatian, who immediately orders the Espresso Martini, which is made from vodka, white cacao, Tuaca (a white vanilla liqueur from Italy) and espresso. Yet again, this doesn’t sound appealing to me – I’ve never understood the craze to put caffeine in alcohol – but it floats the Croatian’s boat big time and I have to grudgingly admit it does work well, largely due to the Tuaca and the quality of the coffee (the bartender tells us Rosebud uses its own blend of coffee beans).

We also order the signature cocktail, The Rosebud, made from vodka, pomegranate liqueur, Cointreau, cranberry and rose water, with a rose petal floating on top (when you finish the cocktail, it is nice to see the petal still lying in the glass).

This is less sweet than it sounds and the Croatian loves it, saying that in the realm of girlie drinks this is definitely a winner. I grumble about how cocktails should be manly and taste like liquor but she tells me to be quiet and I know better than to argue.

Then again, the sweet nature of the drinks here could also be due to Rosebud’s Moorish influence – another bar/restaurant with middle eastern flavours, Almond Bar, also has cocktails that are primarily sweet.

Food wise, the Croatian and I both agree that our goats cheese-filled zucchini flowers with tomato and cardamom chutney are beautiful (I strongly recommend this), while the parmesan-crusted quail is great.

Lastly, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Rosebud’s wine list, which has one of my favourite drops, the Cargo Road Zinfandel, on it. Most of the wines are Australian (although there’s a $95 bottle of Domaine Duroche Le Jeunes Rois from Burgundy) and start from $41 a bottle, although some are available by the glass from $8.50 (the cocktails, incidentally, all cost $15 each).

Now it’s your turn – how do you rate Rosebud?
Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

Rosebud, 654 Darling Street, Rozelle (corner of National Street, opposite the church where they have the markets on the weekend). Phone 9555 8999 or see the Rosebud website

View Larger Map

No related posts.

After all, this 24-hour mecca of sin has a built-in kebab shop, a wall-length aquarium as well as steps decorated to look like a cascading $50 note that lead to an Asian-inspired pokie area filled with fountains, ornate statues and a giant bowl filled with sweets to keep gamblers fueled. It makes Star City look positively understated by comparison.

I’m here with the svelte lady friend, who is the reason for the Burwood outing – having moved to the western burbs she now refuses to go back to the city, even for a drink. Then again, she’s also probably the only person on earth who considers the Townie in Newtown too hoighty toighty.

There aren’t exactly cocktails or a fine array of wines to choose from at The Burwood but there are a few Chinese beers on offer, so we grab two bottles of Zhu Jiang beer, which are just $3.50 each.

The svelte lady friend likes the beer and thinks it’s great value but I’m not a fan – to me it tastes like a low-carb beer, which in my mind is an abomination against mankind (incidentally, I once read a study that claimed beer isn’t fattening – rather, it stimulates our appetite and causes us to eat more – and while I don’t know how valid that study was, I’m happy to believe it if it means never drinking low-carb beer again).

But I digress.

It’s a Saturday night and after exploring the whole venue we’ve settled down in the ground-floor bar near the TAB area.

We can see part of the aquarium (and think of all the stories those fish could tell) as well as a long table filled with six guys and one attractive blonde. I ask the svelte lady friend if there’s a woman drought in the west but she’s too busy drinking her Chinese beer to answer.

As if the aquarium, the gambling area, the Chinese beers and the kebab shop weren’t enough to make The Burwood unique, there’s also a smoking section up the front that opens out onto the footpath, allowing you to see the hot rods burning up and down Burwood’s main drag as you smoke, drink, and let the fish swim by your side.

With all these features on offer I’m beginning to think the svelte lady friend is right in staying out west (this is a hell of a lot more interesting and fun than my local in the inner west) – although I’d argue the ornate fountains, $50 staircase and aquarium are a little hoighty toighty.

Now it’s your turn – how do you rate The Burwood Hotel?
Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

The Burwood Hotel, 121 Burwood Road, Burwood. Phone 9747 5200

View Larger Map

No related posts.

Located on Campbell Parade, Mocean is a cross between a restaurant and a bar and its website claims the underground level feels like a 1940s New York jazz den. I wouldn’t go that far in describing it but, as the fiery redhead and I discover while going there midweek, it is atmospheric. There’s a guitarist playing covers of songs from the likes of the Foo Fighters and the Beatles, booths along the wall, gilt-edged mirrors, wooden floorboards and a long bar at one end where the redhead orders a margarita while I opt for the almond and pineapple tiki typhoon.

The tiki typhoon has a great name but it tastes like a pina colada (albeit a pretty decent one) to me.

The margarita, however, is good, largely because the bartender squeezes the lime juice herself on the spot, and on the next round we go for two more of them.

The menu has an eclectic (for want of a better word) selection, ranging from pizzas, bruschetta and baby barramundi to the fondue with chorizo, chats and baby carrots (the idea of which freaks me out a bit). We opt for the soft shell crab, which is good – but nothing to write home about.

So why would I go back? Well, it’s largely for the intimate vibe. The service is friendly, the live music (at least during our visit) was great and I’m always happy to drink at a place that squeezes its own lime juice. It may not be New York but Bondi Beach can certainly hold its own.

Now it’s your turn – how do you rate Mocean?
Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

Mocean, 34a Campbell Parade, Bondi Beach. Open Wednesday to Sunday. Phone 9300 9888 or see the Mocean website for more information.

View Larger Map

Related posts:

1. Bondi Social – Bondi Beach
2. Drift at Ravesis – Bondi Beach
3. Ravesi’s Wine Bar – Bondi Beach

They also have a good wine list, as I find out when I go on on a Thursday night with the Amazonian Croatian. The Croatian orders the Chasing Clouds cab sav from Orange, which has a strong earthy smell and a beautifully rich and smooth flavour, while I try a Kiwi pinot noir called Lobster Reef.

I love Kiwi wines but I still prefer The Chasing Clouds out of the two, as does the Croatian. The Lobster Reef is still a decent pinot noir with a sweet berry aroma but I find myself liking the aroma more than the taste.

I also prefer the Climbing merlot – also from Orange – that I order afterward, thanks to its richness. In fact, I’m beginning to think it might be time for me to head up to Orange to check out their wineries. But I digress – back to Pyrmont.

The food in Gallon ranges from pizzas to small tapas-sized portions they call “Pieces”. The pizzas look good but we opt for the pork and veal meatballs, haloumi, as well as a half ball of bocconcini.

The hero dish is certainly the meatballs, which comes with a nice thick tomato-based sauce and fresh bread. The surprise meal is the haloumi, which comes with watermelon that’s been sprinkled with balsamic. The combination works well, although I could do without the lettuce strips on the plate that don’t do anything for me.

As for the bocconcini with crisp bread – well … it’s good bocconcini and the lemon juice works well with it but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wish I’d ordered a pizza instead.

My only real complaint with this bar, however, is the odd choice of dance music. The Croatian says it belongs in a Baltic discothèque and while my knowledge of Baltic nightlife is thin on the ground, it certainly doesn’t belong here. The crowd, which is mainly a well-to-do after-work type, certainly don’t seem to be bopping along to it. I suspect any other form of music – jazz, indie, soul, Tibetan cow bells – you name it – would work better with the bar’s atmosphere.

However, Gallon’s great décor and architecture (I love the arch in the middle of the room and the high ceilings) and the friendly service make up for this. If you live or work near Pyrmont there’s no excuse not to come here.

Now it’s your turn – how do you rate Gallon?
Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

Gallon, 117 Harris Street, Pyrmont. Phone 0402 799 557.

View Larger Map

No related posts.

They’ve got a house cat that sometimes acts like a hussy by jumping onto your lap, a fireplace and pool tables (and why have so many pubs gotten rid of their tables?) – but the real reason we go is because of the outdoor barbecue.

For just $15 (at least on Mondays and Tuesdays) you can get two steaks and barbecue them yourself on the outside grill. Call me cheap but that appeals to me.

The steaks vary in size – the last time I went, a friend of the Amazonian scored a thick juicy scotch while my scotch was a pitiful looking thing (and I really don’t think the Amazonian’s friend needed to gloat about it) – but at $7.50 each (as well as a potato and salad) it’s such good value that it seems petty to complain. Not that that’s ever stopped me before.

They also have sausages, prawn skewers and fish parcels, although neither the Croatian nor I liked the fish when we tried it (we couldn’t decide whether we didn’t like the type of fish itself or the marinade it was in). In other words, we’re sticking with steak from now on.

There’s also a jukebox with a daggy selection of 80s music (which I find inexplicably improves my pool playing abilities) and a nude painting on the wall that … well, I’m not sure how to describe that.

Unlike most of the places Bar Zine reviews, this isn’t exactly a temple of brilliant cocktails, wine or haute cuisine – but sometimes, in the middle of the week, it’s nice to tone things down in a place where no-one’s going to judge you on what you’re wearing (which might explain the proliferation of trackies I usually see there).

Now it’s your turn – how do you rate The Newington Inn?
Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

Newington Inn Hotel, 292 – 294 Stanmore Road, Petersham. Phone 9568 3703.

View Larger Map

Related posts:

1. Exchange Hotel – Balmain
2. Nude Bar (Aussie Youth Hotel) – Glebe
3. Bank Hotel – Newtown

I’ve gone on a Saturday night, a weeknight, a Sunday night, but all to no avail: they can pour me a glass of wine but not make a cocktail.

Now, normally I’d give up by now except for three things:

1) I’m as stubborn as a mule
2) Other reviewers seem to like The Rum Diaries (and I won’t even use the word “hacks”) and
3) I love the Hunter S. Thompson novel of the same name.

As such, picking up what little self esteem I have left from The Rum Diaries’ previous rejection of me, I go on a Wednesday night with the Fiery Redhead to try my luck.

Taking a deep breath first, we enter and as the Fiery Redhead picks up the wooden palette that has the menu on it I hear the now familiar refrain from a bartender: it’s too late for them to make cocktails.

A nervous tic starts up above my left eyebrow, my hand begins to twitch.

Oh no.

Not again.

Unable to hold back my cool I splutter with indignation what a fiendish trick this is to play.

“You know,” I say in a girly high-pitched yelp, “I’ve come here like (when exasperated I sometimes suffer from Valley Girl speak by saying “like” too often) four or five times before and, like, I’ve never been able to get a cocktail! Hmpf!”

At this a bartender retorts – possibly with attitude – something along the lines of “Mate, it’s a Wednesday – and we don’t serve after 11”.

This ticks me off since my watch says it’s only 10.40 – hell, I can consume three cocktails in 20 minutes time and responsible service of alcohol be damned – but the other barman calms things down by suggesting in a friendly way that we try a non-cocktail drink – and the Fiery Redhead, despite her moniker, also provides a calming influence by suggesting we try an aged rum, considering they have a large selection to choose from.

When I then look around and, sure enough, see an impressive array of rum, I decide it’s time to wave the white flag in defeat.

On the advice of the Redhead (who it turns out is a bit of a rum expert) I order the Ron Zacapa, which at the ripe old age of 23 years old is beautifully complex, deep and rich. The interesting thing about rum is that most people assume it’s inferior to spirits such as single malt whiskys or cognacs but a great aged rum can be just as beautiful and, as far as the Ron Zacaba is concerned, possibly more layered in terms of flavour.

The Fiery Redhead orders the Holey Dollar Silver but isn’t as impressed with it. I give it a try and don’t mind it – the flavour actually reminds me a little bit of cognac – but it certainly doesn’t pop in your mouth the way the Ron Zacapa does.

Because I do like the rum selection (and the old record player that sits out on the footpath for those who want to drink outside) I’d probably give this place a fifth shot if I were a local – but for now I’m going to give in to my indignation and leave The Rum Diaries be, at least for a while. However, I would love to know what other people’s experiences of The Rum Diaries were like, so feel free to leave a comment below.

Now it’s your turn – how do you rate The Rum Diaries?
Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

The Rum Diaries, 288 Bondi Road, Bondi. They say on their website that they’re open from 6pm until midnight every day of the week except on Sundays when they’re open until 10pm but from my experience I wouldn’t rely upon getting a cocktail after 10.30. Phone 9300 0440 or see The Rum Diaries website for more info.

View Larger Map

Related posts:

1. Speakeasy – Bondi Beach
2. Mocean – Bondi Beach
3. White Revolver – Bondi Beach

Shake some pepper onto the vodka’s surface and let it slowly settle to the bottom of the glass. Dab the remaining grains still floating with your finger and then drink.

In Moonraker James Bond did this in front of his crusty boss M, who looked at the super spy as if he were a fancy nancy.

“It’s a trick the Russians taught me that time you attached me to the Embassy in Moscow,” apologized Bond. “There’s often quite a lot of fusel oil on the surface of this stuff – at least, there used to be when it was badly distilled. Poisonous. In Russia, where you get a lot of bathtub liquor, it’s an understood thing to sprinkle a little pepper in your glass. It takes the fusel oil to the bottom. I got to like the taste and now it’s a habit.”

So when I interview Bob Nolet, who creates the premium Ketel One vodka from the Nolet Distillery in Holland, I can’t help but ask if he heard of this habit.

“No,” he says firmly, adding (and possibly thinking I’m slow witted) that vodka’s purity has continually improved by leaps and bounds over the past century.

“Quality has changed a lot,” Nolet says. “Nowadays we have equipment at the distillery that measure impurities up to parts per million, parts per billion – it’s almost ridiculous but that’s how far it goes these days, and that wasn’t available years ago.”

He adds that the taste and mouth feel of a good vodka come from the distillation and that it’s important not to freeze the vodka.

“Taste it at room temperature – you’ll see the difference,” Nolet says.

He adds that Ketel One can be served on the rocks but that most people drink it neat and when it comes to martinis he suggests making them purely with vodka and to not put any vermouth in it.

In the interests of investigative reporting I decided to try this out and made two martinis with Ketel One. I found that when I made a martini with no vermouth at all it was good but I have to say that when I then made a martini with two and a half shots of vodka and half a shot of vermouth it became beautiful and makes for a decent alternative to a classic gin martini.

In addition to Ketel One there’s also Ketel One Citroen, which has a fresh citrus aroma and is made from lemons and limes around the world, from West Africa and Spain to the Caribbean – although Nolet says that “the main taste profile is from a lemon from Sicily – it’s more of a sweet lemon, which is why Ketel One isn’t so harsh.”

What happens is that the oils from the various lemons and limes are combined and blended into the vodka and the result is surprisingly flavoursome. Not surprisingly, Nolet believes the Cosmopolitan – which requires a lemon vodka such as Ketel One Citroen – is one of the best cocktails invented: click here to see our Cosmopolitan recipe.

Disclosure: I did, in the interests of drinking free alcohol (and I’ll defend that right to the death!) receive some bottles of Ketel One vodka so I can research vodka recipes thoroughly. Hey, someone has to do it …

Related posts:

1. Cosmopolitan recipe
2. A lazy schmuck’s guide to making old-fashioned dry martinis