If you didn’t read Shot Week, Day 1, then go do that now, so you know where I (and the shots) am coming from. In short, from Andrew Bohrer’s bubbly new book The Best Shots You’ve Never Tried, but go get the full backstory in the below post—I’ll wait.
Great, now that we’re all on the same shot page (so to speak), I’m going jump right into Shot Week’s second shot, one with history and cooking. But hey, to give you a better feel for the book’s personality—which is wonderful—I’m gonna back out of the way and let Andrew talk, via the headnote from the book:
“The Carthusian Shrub
Plums and cocktails don’t really mix. Even the ripest plums must be mashed into oblivion to get any play into a cocktail. The Carthusian Shrub takes fresh plums and roasts out their sweet juices into, well, a shrub. What is a shrub? A type of colonial era, prebottled cocktail consisting of cooked fruit and vinegar. It may sound crazy, but this type of boozy gastrique was a mainstay of drinking culture long before the cocktail was invented.”
Makes 2 Shots
1 de-stoned plum
2 ounces Green Chartreuse
1 ounce water
.25 ounce balsamic vinegar
1. Preheat oven to 350 ° F.
2. Cover the de-stoned plum with Green Chartreuse, water, and balsamic vinegar in a roasting pan.
3. Roast uncovered for 30 minutes.
4 . Allow mixture to cool and strain into a separate vessel.
Some sad days, you look at your liqueur shelves and can’t find a thing to drink. Sometimes, this drives you to trying some new liqueurs or spirits. Sometimes, it sends you to searching other shelves and you end up trapped in a cabinet. When you find a stash of cardamom seeds in the corner of said cabinet then you end up making a cardamom liqueur (this has happened to you, right? It’s not just me. Tell me it’s not just me). When the cardamom liqueur actually turns out to be pretty darn intriguing and not bad in taste, it makes all that time trapped in cabinets worthwhile. Especially if you have a pal who then makes a good drink with the liqueur. But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, the cardamom liqueur. I call it Stella di Cardamomo, which speaks to me missing Italy and being oh so fancy. In the bottle, if looking really really closely and squinting, it looks like this:
The taste was and is (I haven’t had every last drop—yet) a bit flowery and with tons of aroma and hints of citrus, but with a kick at the end. Somewhat like one of those early days of spring that end with chilly temperatures when you’ve worn a shorts and a t-shirt combo. But you aren’t too cold cause you have someone to cuddle with. Like that. If you enjoy that sensation, and like cardamom (and let’s hope you do), then the recipe goes like this:
1/4 cup cardamom pods
1/4 teaspoon fennel seeds
2 full orange peels (so, the peels from two oranges, with as little pith as possible)
3 cups vodka
11-1/2 ounces agave syrup
1. Using a mortar and pestle, slightly bash up the cardamom and the fennel. Then add them to a large glass container that has a secure lid.
2. Add the orange peels to the container, and knock them around (just a smidge) with the cardamom and fennel.
3. Add the vodka to the container, give it a swirl or two, and then seal and place in a place that’s away from the sun. Let it sit two weeks, swirling occasionally.
4. Add the agave syrup to the container (by the by, agave is healthy. So, this has now become a healthy drink), stir, seal, and place back wherever it was before. Let sit two week, swirling occasionally.
5. Strain through cheesecloth, at least twice—until it’s clear. Store in a nice bottle and use in the Old Mom (which I’m about to talk about).
Now, back to the pal and the drink. So, I gave a little Stella di Cardamomo to my pal Emi (check this past post for a pic of her Raspberry Gin Fizz) and she whipped up an absolutely divine drink with it, a variation of sorts on the classic Old Fashioned. Yeah, I know, artsy, but the liqueur itself is artsy, and bringing the old and new boozes together is a good thing and worth praise. She went about making her new cocktail by testing this and that until she ended with this recipe:
Ice cubes
2 ounces whiskey
1/8 ounce Stella di Cardamomo
1/8 ounce simple syrup
2 dashes Fee Brothers orange bitters
1. Add a few ice cubes to an Old Fashioned or relatable glass. Add the whiskey (not sure which type she used—maybe she’ll let us know in the comments. Though she is quite busy), Stella di Cardamomo, simple syrup, and bitters. Stir well.
Okay, I think that’s how she went about it at least. There may have been a slightly different way about things, but I think that the above instructions would serve you pretty well. You could also shake everything and then strain it over a couple ice cubes, depending on how much time you have and how much exercise you need. But your results may not be quite as lovely as in this picture (also taken by Emi):
And that, adventuresome ones, is a long blog post about both a new liqueur and a new drink. One of the most wonderful things ever, perhaps.
PS: If there are any liqueur companies reading this that now want to make and sell Stella di Cardamomo, please email me now.
Well, friends, it’s been a bit of a break for the favorite cocktail-making series in the history of cocktail-making series (at least that’s what the Nielsen Company told me), the Cocktail to Cocktail Hour. I can’t say much about the break, only that the world-renowned series director and cameraman and producer of said serier is no longer allowed in Tijuana. But, but, but we’re back! And back in genius fashion as poet Ed Skoog is back in the studio, making a variation on his Dark Spirits’ favorite the Drowsy Chaperone, a new drink called the Drowsy Librarian. He also talks about Grandparents Day, Brazilians, and candy. Watch now!
Poor amaretto. So many folks these days consider it a boozy beverage drunk by college students during the hours when they (and when I, back then, between us) have more drinks than brains. But listen up: this isn’t the case. The dandy-est amaretto is something that Italians savor and so should you. It’s a treat, if you don’t mind finding brands like Gozio, Luxardo, and Disaronno, amarettos that have been made with a sense of taste and care and ingredients that are real and not chemistry experiments. The end result should be a deep almond flavor (which comes from apricot or peach pits, usually) and not overly sugary.
And while we’re dolling out pity party invites: poor summer. It’s far out the rear window now, and you’ve probably forgotten all about those days of sun and cut-offs (though a nice fall sunny day is savorable much like the good amarettos mentioned above). This drink will remind you, for a few sips at least, of those shore-bound summer day and help re-introduce amaretto as needed. The recipe’s from Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, if you wondered.
Cracked ice
1-1/2 ounces dark rum
1 ounce amaretto
1/2 ounce sweet vermouth
Wide orange twist, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add the rum, amaretto, and vermouth. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Twist the twist over the glass and drop it in.
A Note: I like a pretty wide twist here, so don’t fear following the same route.
Oh golly, I love this drink. My love reaches such a magnitude that I made a Baltimore Bracer cocktail video already, but I still wanted to post the drink again. It’s just the ideal combination of tough name, sweet-in-a-good-way-meaning-with-a-kick taste, and amazing mouthfeel thanks to the egg white. I’m not even saying any more (except that the recipe’s from Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz). Just have the drink already. Or you’ll be sorry.*
Cracked ice
1-1/2 ounces brandy
1-1/2 ounces anisette
1 egg white, preferably organic
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with cracked ice. Add the brandy, anisette, and egg white. Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass.
*Not sorry cause I’m going to get all Bruce Campbell on you or anything. I’m not really that tough. Just sorry cause you’ll be missing a dandy drink.
Sometimes, a quote just speaks for itself (which means this may well be the shortest Cocktail Talk post on record. Oh, one thing: this is from one of the Complete Imbibers. Read more about them by following the link in the preceding sentence):
I remember, for example, being taken to see a neurotic Frenchman who was staying there with his wife, and vividly recall Sunday morning in his suite, the wireless resounding to a clergyman’s voice reading the Lesson, while we drank Pernod, and a Pekinese tried in vain to seduce a monkey.
–Anthony Powell, “A Bottle of Wine at the Cavendish,” from The Complete Imbiber 6, 1963
If you read this blog much in the last six months (and if you haven’t, where you been pal?), you know I recently taught a cocktail class called Locatails at the swellest spot, the Pantry at Delancey. It was on two nights, a Friday and a Saturday, and all my students were the tops, and the cocktails we made were delicious I believe (all using local spirits, by the way), and fun was had hopefully by each and every person in the room. It was definitely had by me. Actually, I was having so much fun that I nearly forgot (as I tend to in classes—they’re too much fun) to snap any snaps of the drinks. Eh gads. Luckily, two of my students, Sarah and Emily, took some photos, and sent me an awesome one of the Alexander:
If you don’t know, the Alexander is the emperor of sweet drinks, the top dessert drink perhaps ever, and one that too many people have forgotten about. Its gin-chocolate-cream combination isn’t going to be atop too many health food fanatics’ top ten lists, but anyone who loves a smooth, rich, lovely-tasting cocktail will sure adore it. But don’t take my word for it, try the below recipe (which is from Good Spirits), and if you don’t fall in love with the drink, well, I’ll drink it for you.
Ice cubes 1 ounce gin (I suggest Voyager gin, or another juniper-forward brand)
1 ounce crème de cacao
1 ounce heavy cream
1 strawberry slice, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin, crème de cacao, and cream. Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the strawberry slice.
At my wonderful Locatails class last weekend at the wonderful Pantry at Delancey, one of the wonderful assistants (there was a lot of wonderful last weekend) asked me in passing about drinks made using rosé. I was going to round a few up for her, then people started coming in, I started talking, and somewhat forgot. Until now, when looking at the weather and realizing that we might, actually, be in for some more sun this week in Seattle. And when the sun’s out, a light-but-interesting drink like the Rosé Squirt is in (said drink from Wine Cocktails doncha know). So, now, I’m belatedly answering the question from last weekend and getting a wonderful drink on.
Ice cubes
1 ounce maraschino liqueur
3 ounce dry rosé wine
Chilled club soda
Maraschino cherry, for garnish
1. Fill a highball glass three-quarters full with ice cubes. Add the maraschino liqueur and rosé. Stir briefly.
2. Fill the glass almost to the top with chilled club soda. Stir again, a bit more than briefly. Drop a cherry on top and serve.
