A Collins for Tom

I was reminded on Saturday night of the beauty of simple recipes. Talking the guys at Velutto through making a spectacular Tom Collins and seeing it bring a smile to the face of the guy drinking it reminded me once again why I love cocktails enough to spend my spare time writing about them.

They are at their best transformative, little windows into something else and a spark of inspiration. I had taken my friend, also called Tom, to such a window that night.

Sitting through Tom’s window was, amongst other things, an Apple Tom Collins. While I couldn’t put one together for him on the night. I came home inspired to make one. Most of the recipes asked for Applejack, and having none, I went in a different direction.

A Collins for Tom.

45mls Smirnoff Black, 15mls Sour Apple Syrup†, 7.5mls absinthe, 30mls fresh lime juice. Combine in a large glass, stir well. Ice the glass, top with soda and garnish with an apple fan.

†Sour Apple Syrup is made by first making a plain 1:1 sugar syrup and once it has cooled, the addition and steeping of 3 Granny Smith Apples, macerated as finely as you can be bothered. If you add the apple while the syrup is still warm, the fructose will stew and turn to glucose, making your syrup more poached apple than sour apple.

Vote Goggin!

It appears that at least one of the contestants from 42 Below’s Cocktail World Cup last week is on his way to true global bartending rockstar status. James Sugarfoot Goggin, of the storied family Goggin, has become the first New Zealander to make the finals at Tales of the Cocktail, the pinnacle of this green earth’s drinking events.

I was lucky enough to be behind the bar in Queenstown for a little while. Goggin was struck by a bolt of genius and turned out a banana Sazerac, inside a banana skin. Somehow, methinks, this is not going to be the last Goggin recipe I post here.

Once Upon A Time

MixMarch #18: Lotus Club Special

My copy of David Embury’s The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks arrived last night. Once the gauche dustcover that was obviously designed by a blind man in the late seventies was removed I was quite taken by the powder blue embossed hardcover and sat down to read the words I have heard so much about.

Embury would have done extremely well in a world of social media, and there is little wonder in my mind why his book has remained popular. He exudes a point of view, not content with listing ingredients or defining methods, he defines opinion. He is right, and you, dear reader, are most likely wrong and have been for some time, for that matter.

After thumbing through the pages, wondering what I would make, I stumbled on the section containing the Sazerac. It seems very clear that Embury was not a fan, claiming the drink satisfied neither whiskey fans nor those with a taste for herbsaint or absinthe. He goes so far as to call the drink an old fashioned flavoured with absinthe and to declare that he had never met a Sazerac fanatic, even in Nawlins.

I felt the grate a little on this, being as I am, a Sazerac fanatic. While the taste does perhaps not permit the best of either the base nor modifier to shine through, it is the interplay between them that makes me love this drink. That ordering one requires a bartender to make a little effort and is usually the start of a discussion and a number of drinks. For me, at least, the Sazerac is very much an “enlivening tonic”.

Embury focuses on cutting the corners from the somewhat finnickity practices of the absinthe wash that make a Sazerac so time consuming and offers up this method in its place.

The Lotus Club Special

In a rocks glass, place a sugar cube soaked with three dashes of Peychaud’s bitters, a few drops of absinthe and a small amount of whiskey. Muddle the sugar and stir thoroughly until dissolved. Add a curative measure of Whiskey and stir in ice until the drink is cold and the glass covered in condensate. Garnish with the peel of lemon.

I used the La Perruse 100% cane sugar cubes, about 5mls of Green Fairy absinthe at 75%abv and a slug of about 60mls of Jim Beam Rye Whiskey to make the drink in the picture. It was delicious, a little muddier than the carefully prepared Sazerac, but the time saving means I’ll be doing it again…

I think Mr. Embury ande I are going to have a lot of fun together.

UPDATED: The Monkey Gland

This is one of Harry’s drinks. Published in 1922, his book, Harry’s ABC of mixing cocktails lays claim to it. The drink is made with Gin, orange juice, absinthe and grenadine. I’m not sure why, but this drink makes me think of Colin Peter Field from the Hemingway Bar in Paris and his rules for making cocktails. I remember, first reading, then hearing them straight for his lips.

I probably thought some of them seemed like a limiting. Ideas like only using a single base alcohol with the addition of citrus, small amounts of aromatizers and bitters. They do maybe limit complexity, but they also leave balance and subtlety, naked for you to experience. The orange juice tarts the drink with the strength of the Gin and the great finish of the absinthe.

The Monkey Gland.

50 mls of Beefeater Gin, 50 mls of orange juice, 10 mls absinthe, 10 mls grenadine. Over ice in a shaking glass, combine and shake with some vigour. Strain it up. I’ve gone with a ridiculous twist, but i’d also like to give a rockmelon hook supporting a plastic hanging monkey or absolutely nothing at all.

Confession time. I used a store bought fresh squeezed OJ that was quite sweet and used a pomegranate concentrate instead of grenadine.

There is something rewarding about the feeling you get working through the classics. One of the nice things about this drink is the story of its name. Harry was quite fond of naming drinks for the clients and things happening in their shared sphere of experience.

The Monkey gland got is name from Serge Voronoff, a French doctor of Russian extraction famous for his work inserting thin slices of monkey glands (testicles) into patients scrota to deliver exuberance and youth. UK footballers the Wolverhampton Wanderers were among those who swore by the therapy.

It’s definitely an enlivener.

 

And here is how it looks with freshly squeezed orange juice. Much better I think.

Lotus

22 Challis Ave, Potts Point.

+61 2 9326 9000

Google Map.

Stashed away out the back of Lotus‘ restaurant on Challis Ave in Potts Point, this micro bar punches well above its size. Part of Sydney’s flash as Merivale Group, while the clientele is often fruitier than the cocktails, Lotus manages class without the pretension of the shinier, larger and altogether more wanky Ivy. But I digress.

There are two seats up close to the bar, if I am not sitting in them, pull up a pew, talk, drink and enjoy some of the highest quality hosting in the City. The bar manager, Peter*, is genuine czech class, mixing up ultra tasty libations for an adoring bar.

I started with a Corpse Reviver 22, which is actually a Corpse Reviver No.2, but despite the faux pas on the name, the drink was immaculate. As close to perfect as I have ever tasted.

Bohemia was a champagne cocktail of excellence; le mercier absinthe, shaken with a hint of fresh lemon and sugar, topped with domaine chandon and caramelised star anise.

I followed these up with a cocktail from the front section. I can’t recall it’s name but it was Tain something, cherries muddled with Glenmorangie. Stunning, deep, velvety, delicious. I’ll be back to find out the name later in the week.

French 75

   

Over the weekend I entertained some friends with French 75’s, some slow cooked Italian and a tortuous game of scrabble.

The French 75 is named for the small but powerful artillery piece the French were so enamored with firing at the Germans. 

Recipies vary, but all contain Gin, lemon juice and sugar, topped with Champange. My personal favourite incorporates absinthe, just a few drops in the bottom of the flute, before the rest of proceedings are kicked off.

Mix 3 parts* Gin, I used Beefeater, to 1 part lemon** juice over ice with a small measure of sugar or gomme***, shake briskly over ice and fill flutes about a 1/3 full with this mixture. top with Champagne and garnish with a large twist of lemon peel.

Harry Craddock probably said it best, ‘Hits with remarkable precision.’ 

* say 120mls for four cocktails, ** say 30mls, or almost the juice of an entire lemon (depending on how large the lemon is, of course), you might want to add a touch more sugar if you’re using bone dry Aussie bubbles instead of the French stuff.

The Sazerac

The Sazerac is one of the world’s oldest recorded cocktails, there are many stories about its origin, but the modern version we drink today must be made with Peychaud’s Bitters. These Bitters were made by a Creole gentleman who arrived in the late 1700’s to New Orleans, and was commercially producing them in 1830. Bitters produced around this period were considered tonics for health and vitality, and traveling apocatheray and snake oil salesmen. They were sold mixed with cognacs, brandies and whiskeys as an ‘enlivening tonic’

The strict Sazerac is made by icing and washing a rocks glass with absinthe. Another rocks glass, or boston is used to contain a Peychaud’s Bitters soaked sugar cube, a generous measure of Rye Whiskey, Buffalo Trace, who manufacture Peychaud’s, offer Sazerac Rye as an original approximation, but the aforementioned Rittenhouse Rye would do just as well. The recipe does not stipulate the addition of ice to the mixture, but it undoubtedly makes for a smoother, more pleasurable experience. The absinthe soaked ice is discarded and the drink is served straight up, with a twist for a garnish. 

The best example of this drink I have ever come across was at Tara57 Cocktail Lounge in Shanghai, mixed by Lee Linford. It contained half a measure each of Woodford Reserve Bourbon and Martel XO cognac. The glass was washed with real czech absinthe and was made as a gift for my donation of my bottle of Peychaud’s Bitters before leaving Shanghai to move to Australia. 

They say free drinks always taste sweeter, but this was magnificent.

The Sazerac is a wondefully complex and strong experience, when made well it is also supremely balanced and a true classic.

Corpse Reviver No.2

First appears in the 1930 Edition of Harry Craddock`s Savoy Cocktail Book in a section called `Reviver Cocktails`, designed to be drunk before 11am or `whenever steam and energy are needed`.

This is one of those drinks that just works. A perfect balance of liqueur, vermouth, spirit and citrus. The style existed briefly around 1920; until the more practical style of the 30`s, the Sour (citrus, spirit, liqueur, no vermouth) won the day. The flavours are all clearly defined and at the same time beautifully mixed. A truly great classic drink.

Find yourself a boston glass, or a three piece shaker will do the trick. Add equal parts Beefeater Gin, fresh lemon juice, Cointreau and Lillet Blanc. Ice yourself a martini glass, adding a dash of absinthe (or Pernod, should you have none)  to the ice. Ice up the Boston, top it with the cap and give it a short, sharp shake. Discard the ice from the martini glass and strain your perfectly balanced Corpse Reviver No.2 into its vessel. Garnish with a wide peel of lemon, twisted.

I’ve found this drink also works well mixed in a tupperware container in bulk, up to a liter measured out in a Pyrex jug, shaken and poured long over ice on a hot Sydney day, garnished with mint to bring out the cooling anise…