OK, I’m going to advance a new cocktail of my own creation. Ordinarily, this is akin to a red-neck driver handing you his beer and saying, Y’all watch this! However, in this case I think I’ve got a winner, or at least an entry which makes the podium.
In a recent post, I reviewed Bols Genever. I detailed how I banged my head against the wall trying to figure this spirit out, and how I finally found some delicious ways to serve it up. As I was editing the post, there was some material I discarded about how many mixologists tout qualities in genever that liken it more to whiskey than gin. That got me thinking.
And for those of you wondering when he is going to pop up and make a snarky comment about that, I locked him in the sock drawer before starting this post.
One of my favorite cocktails is the Vesper, a drink that marries two spirits to tone down the more radical elements and create a lovely fusion. I decided to try the same with the genever and its supposed cousin, whiskey. If a Vesper is a Martini variant, I’d make this cocktail a Manhattan one.
After a lot of experimenting with tiny cocktail glasses and my dwindling bottle of Bols Genever, I found a recipe that I hope some of you out there try and tell me what you think. It’s not an every day drinker, since it is pretty strikingly flavored, but I think it’ll be a fine option when I’m looking for a bracer and have time to ponder what I’m sipping.
Finally, I had to have a name. My first thought was the Gen Ee Sais Quoi, since I really didn’t know what to make of this! But, meh. I wanted some romance. Now, Vesper was a beautiful double-agent, and British, like gin. As it happens, the most famous (if apocryphally) double-agent, Mata Hari, was Dutch, just like genever! Now, there are already a number of cocktails, and an absinthe, called the Mata Hari, so I looked Mata Hari up. Her real name was Margaretha….

I’ve really been in a rut lately, drinking basically nothing but Aviations of late.

Gee,
Pretty nice rut….

True, but a rut is a rut. I’ve been kicking around something new to try to work on and through a combination of circumstances which I’ll detail in future posts on this subject, I’ve found myself experimenting with perhaps the most appropriately named cocktail on (or off) the planet, the Old Fashioned.
Like all great cocktails, you can get into an argument about where it comes from. The traditional, fun tale is that the cocktail was created at the Pendennis Club in Louisville, Kentucky in the late 19th century. This is demonstrably untrue.
In 1806, a New York newspaper answered a reader question about how to make this new thing called, a Cocktail. They replied with a concoction that is for all intents and purposes what we now call the Old Fashioned. The Old Fashioned could just as easily be called The Original. But it wouldn’t sound as cool.

But I don’t want to diss the Pendennis Club. It does have an important place in the history of the Old Fashioned. By the late 1900s 1800s, the original Cocktail had likely fallen from favor, superseded by the winds and whims of fashion. One a fateful day, a member strode into the bar at the Pendennis. This man was likely a cranky, persnickity, but knowledgeable drinker, the kind who scoff at the pitiful ideas of lesser men about what makes a drink. In short, he was likely an ancestor of Gabriel Szaszko…. This guy sneers at all the drinks his fellow members are consuming (the Cosmos and Vodka Martinis of the time), leans upon the mahogany and demands of the bartender, serve me a damned Cocktail!
Of course, Mr. __________. What kind shall I get you?
I said I wanted a Cocktail. You know, whiskey, sugar, and bitters. An old fashioned Cocktail, like real men drank before we got all sissyfied in our drinks with shakers and fancy glasses! He likely went on to decry such trendy mixers as vermouth. And don’t get him started on crappy euro spirits like gin!
Another member, likely one who owed him money, decided to suck up and also ordered, one of Mr. _________’s Old Fashioned Cocktails, please. The name, as well as the drink, stuck. Over time, armed with a new, catchy label, the original Cocktail once again spread across the land as the Old Fashioned Cocktail.

So, if the Old Fashioned is the original Cocktail, Mr. History Buff, why isn’t it the Gospel of Whiskey, instead of the Manhattan?

Well, firstly because the Old Fashioned is actually a class of drinks. You can make it with a wide array of spirits, not just whiskey. We’ll examine that further in future posts. Also, while there may be an original recipe for the Old Fashioned, there really is no canonical best way to make one.

That said, let’s throw out a good version of that original formulation.

There you have a base, historical Old Fashioned. And, like most cocktails I love, there you also have a host of arguments.
No real controversy on the whiskey. Use what you like, just use decent stuff. You may find, if you start really experimenting with different formulations of Old Fashioneds, that different whiskeys will work better with different versions. If you find yourself constructing elaborate charts and matrixes of your results with different brands, seek professional help immediately.
That sugar cube is a problem, though. Yes, it is the traditional way of doing the drink. Yes, it is a cool preparation. Yes, yes, yes. But no. It doesn’t dissolve easily, and seldom does it dissolve completely. You may end up with the dreaded sludge on the bottom of your drink, and that is not classic. I go with the modern idea of using simple syrup to taste. Somewhere between a teaspoon and a tablespoon should do the trick.

Next, there is the question of oranges. I’ll discuss a lot of things you can put in an Old Fashioned in later posts of this series, but orange deserves a spot in the first go. For many, if not most, modern Old Fashioned drinkers, it is as much a part of the drink as the whiskey. I agree. Without something to expand it, the cocktail I outline above is just too sharp for my tastes. Please note, the orange the drink needs is orange peel, not juice. After you have mixed the sugar, bitters, and the first batch of ice in your glass, cut a good sized slice of orange zest with a channel knife or vegetable peeler. Do this over the glass so you catch most of the oils that will spray out as you make the cut; these oils are what you are after. Give the peel a twist and drop it in the glass. Then stir in the remaining whiskey.
If you don’t have fresh oranges, you can replace the peel and its oils with a good orange bitters like Regan’s Orange Bitters No. 6.This has the virtue of speed and convenience. You might also try Angostura Orange Bitters as well. I’d avoid trying to use the Fee Brothers orange bitters, at least in Old Fashioneds. The Fee’s is much milder and doesn’t really do the job here, at least for me. None of these bitters are as good as the fresh orange oils from a peel, however.
Finally, let’s talk garnish. You can make a perfectly good Old Fashioned with no garnish at all (should you employ the bitters option or the no orange option), and some traditionalists insist this is the way to do it.
The orange peel I suggest is an attractive garnish in and of itself, as well as a functional ingredient. You can even toss in a cherry with the stem on if you like.
The most common garnish for Old Fashioneds these days is a wedge of orange and cherry on a cocktail sword. While this little assembly is pretty by itself, I find it a bit fruity frou-frou for a classic, two century old drink. Sticking this massive garnish on your Old Fashioned is a bit like buying clothes for your grandmother at Forever XXI….

Hey!
You forgot an ingredient!

No, I didn’t.

Yes, you did! What about….

No. I. Did. Not.

…!

Don’t put club soda, seltzer, or any other unfrozen H2O in your Old Fashioneds, save perhaps for enough to dissolve your sugar cube, if that’s the way you roll.
True, lots of Old Fashioned recipes call for you to top up the glass with soda water. But you can tell that this is a B.S. ingredient from that telling phrase, top up. The simple fact is that a basic Old Fashioned recipe will likely not quite fill many Old Fashioned glasses. Bar patrons don’t like a glass that isn’t full, and bartenders don’t like to hear, Hey bartender, I’ll have another. And this time put some liquor in it. The simple solution is to hit it with the soda gun and everyone is happy, except someone who wants the best Old Fashioned.
Bartenders, add more ice and stir a bit if you must have the level approach the lip. Bubbles add nothing to the magnificent tranquility of this venerable drink. And if you are mixing your Old Fashioned at home, don’t worry about the level. You know how much booze you put in. Just stir and taste until enough ice has melted to give you the strength you want.
So there you have it, the basic Old Fashioned. Drink, enjoy, and come back to see what’s up as I examine some fun modifications, extensions, and variations in future posts!

It is the first weekend in May, and that means it is time for the Running for the Roses, the Kentucky Derby. I have absolutely no interest in horse racing, to be honest. But this race always seems to capture my imagination anyway. Horses are magnificent creatures in the middle of a race. I just have no interest in the personalities of the owners or trainers, nor do I have any desire to bet on races. All this means I just don’t watch horse racing. But on Derby Day, for a brief moment, I buy into the idea that we are watching the most exciting two minutes in sports.
And besides, the personalities and activity surrounding the Derby are classic. The whole experience is filled with outrageous, time-honored, customs and accessories. The day is usually hot and stifling. The derby-goers are in need of cooling down and relief from the baking sun in the stands and on the infield. So let’s talk about the classic centerpiece of that relief:

Very funny.
Talk about the drink.

Now hold on!
I love that hat!
That said, I’m thirsty, too.

Ok guys, I’ll get to the main event. This is a cocktail blog, not a millinery site.
The traditional refreshment of the Kentucky Derby is the Mint Julep. I’ve blogged about it before, but I think it is worth examining each year at this time. It is a good cocktail that deserves a far better fate than it has been consigned to in the modern age.
I suggested a much more complex recipe before. This time, I’m going with a more mainstream and much easier to construct drink, while still maintaining enough elaborate preparation to impress your non-cocktailian friends.
Here are the simple ingredients:

I actually like to go with Rye in most circumstances when I make a Julep, but on Derby Day, you really do have to go with a good Kentucky Bourbon, like Bulleit. Strip the leaves (about 10 to 12) from one of the mint sprigs and place in a large old fashioned glass. put the chunks of pineapple and the sugar cubes atop like so:

Simple syrup would dissolve easier than the sugar cubes, but the cubes look cooler as you prepare the drink, and the abrasiveness of the sugar helps release the minty oils and break down the leaves. Muddle until you have a mottled yellow and green paste in the bottom after a minute or so. It needs to be more smashed than this:

Plop in several nice big ice cubes and the bourbon. Stir gently to combine and garnish with the pineapple spear and the second sprig of mint. Reserve the better looking sprig for the garnish.

The resulting drink needs a hot day to really work. The aromatics come out to play in the heat. And more to the point, this drink is designed to treat what ails a hot and thirsty mouth. It isn’t really suitable for an indoor cocktail party in the Fall.
Riders, to the Post!

Among many things that I set to the side during Tiki Month here at the Pegu Blog was bottle of Bulleit Bourbon that the distiller kindly sent me for review. For a variety of reasons, I wanted to make a review of this outstanding liquor my first post-Tiki post.
Bulleit is a premium small-batch bourbon. The original Bulleit, Augustus, worked up his unique style of bourbon in the 1830s, and his secret disappeared, along with Augustus himself, on an ill-fated trip to New Orleans to sell his brew. While his actual fate is unknown, I’m guessing he was a bit ahead of his time and suggested to the locals that his stuff would make a better Sazerac, leading to violent defenestration. At any rate, descendant Tom Bulleit researched the methods and ideas of Augustus and has come up with the modern Bulleit process, proving once again boys and girls that lawyers can make a positive contribution to society, if only they just stop lawyerin’!
Now, I don’t drink bourbon neat. But I do taste new ones that way to figure out what to do with them. Whiskeys are very complex liquors, and if you leap right into a Manhattan with a new one, you’ll learn nothing beyond “good”, or “um”, or even “eww”. So I poured a few fingers into a glass, dropped in a couple of tiny ice cubes, and took a sip. At that moment, I found myself with something different on my hands. This stuff is good. Every bit as good as most of the single malts I keep around for sipping.
And Bulleit drinks more like a single malt than any bourbon I’ve tried before. First off, the various flavors are more in balance than is usually the case with a bourbon. In particular, the sweetness elements are toned down here, with a smokier undertone coming out in response. Bulleit uses a of of rye in its mix, and you can certainly tell. Perhaps if anyone still cared about the once white-hot debate over rye versus bourbon in Mint Juleps, Bulleit would be the product to bring peace in our time.
It is important to note that this is still definitely a bourbon, not a scotch. There are no peaty flavors here, and while the sweetness has been put in a more respectful place, it is still quite evident.
I may have mentioned before that I have a terrible sense of smell. If I saw like I smell, I’d be legally blind, so I don’t usually pay much attention to the aroma of liquors. But there must be some powerfully good aromas associated with Bulleit. I say this because I have a raging cold right now, and last night I tried the Bulleit one more time to make a few additional notes, and it was not nearly so good to me. It was flatter. If you have a nose that works like a normal person’s, I can only imagine how much you’d like this whiskey.
Several nights ago, I was down at Details, my new favorite cocktail bar in Columbus, and upon looking at the menu saw Bulleit as one of the options head barman Chris Dillman offers for his Old Fashioneds. Interestingly, it was the cheapest of the bunch. This surprised me greatly, so l later went and checked the Ohio liquor price list and was shocked at how reasonably priced Bulleit is! As I said, my first bottle of Bulleit (it won’t be my last) was a review sample, so I didn’t know. Blanton’s is about 44 bucks here. Booker’s is about 53. Bulleit is 25. Twenty-five.
My mind immediately leapt to Sobieski vodka. As I’ve written about that liquor, it is cause for excitement when you come across a genuinely top-notch product that is priced well below its peers. Especially in these times, where unless you have or a planning of getting a guvmint job, you need to count your pennies.
I only hope this doesn’t become a problem for the brand. I continue to think that the low price is a drag on Sobieski’s growth in the market. But it is a vodka. While the difference between it and its top-priced peers is negligible, the difference between it and its same-priced competitors is only slightly greater. Bulleit is a bourbon. Whisk(e)ys are unique critters, with huge ranges in style and quality between each brand. Pricing itself right next to Makers or Jim Beam is a bad idea. In fact, I asked Chris about this (right after he gave me the tragic but unsurprising news that he was out of Bulleit), and he said he had heard that they are considering moving the price up to a better neighborhood.
Not that I’m requesting a price increase! The world needs more great booze at good prices. I’m just saying I don’t expect this one to stay this cheap forever. So if you like bourbon, or even if you are a single malt guy, go out and give Bulleit a try while it’s still so unreasonably reasonable.

UPDATE: Welcome readers of Screwtop Winebottle! While you are here, why not take a look at a few of my other liquor reviews, or just some more generalized tomfoolery?

Among the great classic liqueurs that I have never really gotten around to playing with, the most famous and mainstream is Benedictine, along with its pre-blended cousin, B&B. Benedictine was created by Benedictine monks in France during the Renaissance, and its ingredients must have seemed like a liquid map of the world to the people of that age. The monks made Benedictine until the revolution, when the French, in their zeal to conflate democracy with killing anyone who disagreed with the mob, caused the monks to abandon their abbey at Fecamp. At that point, the recipe was lost for almost 70 years, before a copy was found in an attic. (Perhaps the guy was looking for stuff to sell on eBay) It has been a commercial success ever since.

The D.O.M. stands for Deo Optimo Maximo which roughly means, to God, the most good, the most great.
Over Christmas, I received a bottle of B&B to review, and that gave me the kick in the pants I needed to go out and buy a bottle of Benedictine, so I could try them both.
I started off with the Benedictine because, well, I’m a simple kind of guy and it made simple sense to me to try to understand the pure stuff first. This liqueur is a highly organized riot of flavors from citrus to spicy to a little savory. The flavorants include nutmeg and vanilla, cinnamon and cardamon, and even Myrrh, which I’ve been running into a lot lately. Benedictine says that there are 27 separate ingredients, and they probably store the secret recipe in the same vault guarded by a three-headed dog as Coke does. The website has a cool little trivia game for foodies, where you have to put some of the major spices onto their place of origin on a map of the world. (Go to the site and click on the discovery tab)
I went browsing through some recipes to see how I could deploy this drinkable perfume, and settled on the Frisco. There are two versions, and I started with the Rye variant:

The resulting cocktail is a bit cloudy and yellow. It tastes very tart and not bad at all, for those of us who like our cocktails that way. But the Benedictine is very much a background player in this drink, and I couldn’t tell much about what exactly it was bringing to the party. Its presence is apparent, but this is not a great drink for me to evaluate Benedictine. I next tried the Bourbon version:

This cocktail is clear and much prettier. You can easily identify what the Benedictine is bringing to the party here, and drinking this version is where I got the idea to call it a highly organized riot. There is a lot of different stuff to savor, going in a lot of different directions, but the cool thing is, they don’t get in each other’s way at all. Unfortunately, this version is too sweet for me.
It was clear by this point that there’s a good reason why Benedictine’s been made forever. I am relatively easily confused by too many competing flavors, and that wasn’t happening here. This is, I suspect, why this liqueur is so accessible to so many drinkers. But is was also clear that a sour guy like myself was going to need another route make it work for me. I turned to Gary Regan’s recipe using B&B that I read on Intoxicologist:

Now we were getting somewhere! This cocktail is a delicious blend of flavors, with the floral Sapphire and even more floral St. Germaine really bringing out the Benedictine in the B&B. And this is not a sweet drink, it’s smooth and dry.
But I still was not satisfied. The flavors I was finding best in the B&B were the spices, as opposed to the florals. I reasoned that since both the B&B and the Sapphire are a mix of floral and spice, the floral St. Germaine was tipping the balance against where I really wanted to go. So I backed it out and replaced it with some more spice:

Bingo. This one definitely works well for me. The Canton tilts the balance toward the spicy side, but doesn’t unbalance the Benedictine’s broad spectrum of flavors. This isn’t a casual sipping drink, though. Try one when you feel like paying attention.

Jealousy, thy name is me.
Dr. Bamboo is one of my favorite blogs. I’d read it regularly for its writing alone. I especially like cocktail bloggers who go through their process of concocting and refining a, usually new, drink, and the good doctor does this very well.
He doesn’t post often enough, but there is a good reason for that. In fact that reason is why I think he stands out from the crowd and why I’m posting this little babblment. Doctor Bamboo is one heck of an illustrator. He includes at least one original drawing with each post, and they are all fabulous. You should read him. Always.
Who am I kidding? I’m not writing this to send you to his blog. I’m writing this so I can feel good about stealing one of his illustrations and posting it here on my blog, thereby giving some classy visual interest to this shabby, rundown joint. Here’s the picture from his latest post:

Looks cool all on its own, doesn’t it? Now, if you want to make sense of why a Kentucky Colonel’s secret identity is Bobsled Man, go read his blog and find out!