It’s time for the next episode of the almighty Cocktail to Cocktail Hour, and it’s a humdinger! It features another Everyday Drinking segment, where I solve the drinking problem of someone off the street. But this time, it’s not just any ol’ someone off the street, it’s Paul Stanley* from the greatest rock-and-roll band in the land, KISS. That’s right, the Starchild himself had a bit of a drinking query and he came straight to the Cocktail to Cocktail Hour (like all good people). It’s a heck of show, folks, with singing, grinning, and a beautiful drink for Paul called the Luminous Angel, containing Cognac, Elisir M.P. Roux liqueur, orange juice, and Seattle-made Scrappy’s Cardamom bitters!
*May not actually be Paul Stanley in video; may be a genius Paul Stanley impersonator. Please don’t sue us Mr. Stanley. We only did it cause we love you.
Back when I was younger (this was before things like cocktail blogs – really, before electricity. Ba dump bump), there was a drink called The We Have to Be at Work by 10 A.M. It was all about mornings and how sometimes you need to pack breakfast, juice, and a pick-you-up into one glass, and was printed first in that award-winning cocktail cuddler, Good Spirits. Recently, though, I re-visited the drink, thinking about how it’s more often now that I’m thinking of a pre-going-to-bed drink, and that I now have to go to work much earlier than 10 A.M. I didn’t want to change its nature too much, cause it’s a fun drink. First, I thought I’d make the switch from vodka to gin, cause gin’s a bit more of a refined evening number. Then, though, to make things a bit easier (it’s evening, remember, and we’re winding down) and because it’s tasty, I moved to the Bitter Truth’s new Pink Gin, which is a gin-aromatic-bitters mix, served in a beautiful bottle (if you don’t see it in your store, try Astor Wine & Spirits). It has a florally-juniper-y taste underlined by and mingled with spice notes. Yummy. I also, when, updating the recipe, added a little simple syrup, because before bed one likes some sweetness. I kept the orange juice and part of the egg (the white), though, because healthiness is good any time of day.
The We Have to Be in Bed by 10 P.M.
1-1/2 ounces Bitter Truth Pink Gin
1 ounce freshly squeezed orange juice
1 egg white
1/2 ounce simple syrup
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the Pink Gin, orange juice, egg white, and simple syrup. Shake really well (it’ll wear you out for bed).
2. Strain (through a fine strainer if you have one) into a cocktail glass. Drink. Sleep. Dream dreamy dreams.
So, you ever have those days when you lose a bunch of information about this or that (nothing that serious, but right annoying) and need a perfect drink to remind yourself that all is well in the dreamy and bright world. Turn to this lesser-known classic originally from a hotel of the same name in Louisville, KY. It won’t let you down, friends, in the least.
The Seelbach
1 ounce bourbon
1/2 ounce Cointreau
7 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
7 dashes Angostura bitters
Chilled brut Champagne or sparkling wine
Orange twist, for garnish
1. Pour the bourbon, Cointreau, and the two bitters into a flute glass. Stir briefly.
2. Fill the flute almost to the top with the chilled Champagne or sparkling wine. Stir again, but don’t get nutty about it. Garnish with the orange twist.
Those who known me well (or who have ever met me, or ever read this blog, cause honestly, I’m somewhat of an open book, and have been known to go along and along and along a bit, even though you may have a hard time beliving that now) know that I spent my formative drinking years, if not my formative cocktail-creating years, in Kansas. Which may lead you to hypothizing that this particular mix was monikered after the big city in northeastern corner of that state. But, mysteriously, it’s not. Hah! And neither is it named after the ingredients (which include scotch, some homemade cherry hazelnut bitters, and superstar and super-misprounced Italian sweet vermouth Carpano Antica). Hah! Instead, it’s named after two separate gentlemen. First, a fella named Ken who writes the Price Family Farms blog (when he has time and sunshine) and who created those homemade bitters alluded to just two sentences before this one. And secondly, a fella named Callanan (first name Dave, but don’t stalk him or anything). They both seemed to need strong drinks, and while at least the latter, Dave, strays more towards beer (don’t hold it against him as he’s still quite rad), I figured neither would turn down having a drink that boasted a serious wallop of blended scotch with the edges slightly sanded by the stitch-sweet and herbally Carpano and the also-a-hint-cuddly-but-boastin -nutty-goodness-bitters named after them. Who, in their right mind, in Kansas or anywhere else would turn that down though? No-one in their right mind, that’s who.
Cracked ice
2 ounce blended scotch (I’ve been enjoying the famous Famous Grouse here)
1 ounce Carpano Antica
2 healthy dashes cherry hazelnut bitters
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add all the ingredients. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass.
A Note: Want your own cherry hazelnut bitters? Well, go on over to Price Family Farms and beg for the recipe.
A Second Note: Feel this absolutely has to have a garnish? Try a really good brandied or whiskied cherry if you can find one.
I know, I know, I’m a little late to the party (which doesn’t happen as often as you might think, unless I’m going to like 5 parties in one night). In this case, I’m specifically referring to the Bitters party. If you don’t know about the Bitters party, then I’m glad to be the one to invite you. In this case, I’m not speaking of bitters in the larger sense, but Bitters in the sense of Brad Thomas Parsons’ wonderful book of the same name, a book which will (if you get on it and get to ordering) make your holiday season the jolliest, not to mention making every shin-dig you throw in 2012 tastier. To roll out the full title, Bitters: A Spirited History of a Classic Cure-All, with Cocktails, Recipes, and Formulas is packed with (you might expect this) recipes for bitters, recipes for cocktails with bitters, and recipes for culinary delights with bitters. But it also is bubbling with (and this you might not expect, cause few books deliver on it) histories, stories, and most of all darn fine writing of all of the above. See, Mr. Parsons isn’t just a recipe developer, or a cocktail cultivator, or a historical researcher of food trends and triumphs throughout the years. Though he is all of those things, he’s also a darn fine storyteller and yarn-spinner, and it’s the stories and his always charming writing that makes the book such a fine read and such a boon bar companion (much like the man himself). But heck, I’m gushing like a teenager. Here’s my final word–don’t take my word for the brilliance of Bitters. Go on and get yourself a copy. Because you certainly don’t want a mundane holiday season, or a boring 2012. And Bitters will make both better.
First and foremostly, let me say that I have never met the folks at Hella Bitter. Heck, I’ve never even tasted Hella Bitter bitters. I have had a fella tell me they were fine folks. But it’s a fella I’ve never even met face-to-face! So, I feel I’m completely un-biased here, and you cann’t shake your head at me and disagree (about this. Other things? For sure). But here’s the skinny: Hella Bitter is a little bitters company in Brooklyn, and they want to open a bitters-and-soda cart to roam the streets of NY making everyone’s life better. Doesn’t that sound awesome? A bitters-and-soda cart? I wish it was an idea for Seattle, but as I just think the world would be a better place with said cart, I’m urging you donate to their Kickstarter campaign. You can go right here and learn more about the Hella Bitter cart campaign. If you live in Brooklyn and haven’t already donated, then I think it’s a must. So, quit reading and start donating, because you only have 48 more hours to help.
The poor, misunderstood, little-referred-to cousin of the popular, always-invited-to-the-dance, Sazerac, the Zazarac rarely rears its head on party menus these days (alas, poor drink). But it’s worthy of taking out for a drive (and now I’ve managed a whole host of messy metaphors—in just two sentences!), even if it has a bit of kitchen-sink-ness to it thanks to its full ingredient list. It has somewhat of a kick, mind you, so watch your wobbliness when consuming it. It isn’t, honestly, good to take for a drive, for instance. Unless you have one of those beds shaped like a car.
Ice cubes
1-1/2 ounces rye
3/4 ounce white rum
3/4 ounce anisette
3/4 ounce Simple Syrup
1/2 ounce absinthe
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash orange bitters
Lemon twist, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the rye, rum, anisette, syrup, absinthe, and both bitters. Shake well (it’s okay to be aggressive about it, the cocktail likes it).
2. Strain into a large cocktail glass. Garnish with that orange twist.
A Note: This was originally made with gum, or gomme, syrup. Intrigued? See the recipe for the King Cole in Dark Spirits (where the above Zazarac recipe is also from) and learn more about this gum syrup. Or just buy David Wondrich’s Imbibe for gosh sakes.
Promised Bonus Quote (which goes so well with the Zazarac I think):
One minute she’s a blackmailer, cagey as Kruschev, and the next she wants to gambol half-naked on a pile of sawdust like a babe on an absinthe jag.
The following two quotes, the last of those from the Raymond Chandler book Pearls Are A Nuisance, which I talk about more in Take 1, below Take 2, which is below this post right here and now. These quotes are from the final story in the collection, “The King in Yellow” and include one about drinking light and one about drinking heavier. Not a bad way to end up, though I think Mr. Chandler would be more happy with the latter, were he still around to drink with (sadly, not the case).
The red-haired girl said: ‘The drink’s on me. I was with him.’
Steve said: ‘Coke with a dash of bitters,’ to the waiter.
The waiter said, ‘Madame?’
‘Brandy and soda. Light on the brandy, please.’ The waiter bowed and drifted away. The girl said amusedly: ‘Coke with a dash of bitters. That’s what I love about Hollywood. You meet so many neurotics.’
The maid came back with a copper ice bucket. She pulled a low Indian-brass tray-table between them before the davenport, put the ice bucket on it, then a siphon, glasses, and spoons, and a triangular bottle that looked like good Scotch had come in it except that it was covered with silver filigree work and fitted with a stopper.
Dolores Chiozza said: ‘Will you mix a drink? in a formal voice.
He mixed two drinks, stirred them, handed her one. She sipped it, shook her head. ‘Too light,’ she said. He put more whisky in it and handed it back. She said, ‘Better,’ and leaned back against the corner of the davenport.
