Well, it’s January, and I know these days a few fair amount of folks take part in dry January, or Dryuary (I made that last name up right now), both cause of knowing folks that do it and cause of the many (or some) notes from PR folks I receive asking if I’m doing any dry January stories. I’m not! But not because I’m opposed to the idea – what works for some works for them and I’m certainly not looking down on it. And I can see the rationale, especially after the holiday season with its parties and mistletoe and chilly days for many. If you’re flirting with the drying out, but maybe just want to go part way, into the lower ABV realm, then here’s a nice choice for you: The Trocadero. With a combination of dry and sweet vermouth as its base, it delivers a lot of flavor with less alcohol umph, while not removing said booze entirely. Actually, no matter the month in question, it makes a swell aperitif cocktail, as well as just a tasty number for anytime you want to go a little less ka-pow (brunching? It’s dandy. First dates? Ideal! See, anytime). Give it a whirl, but follow my lead and make your own grenadine. Adds more pizzazz, and is easy (and so much of the store-bought grenadine is lame. And you don’t want to start the year on a lame note).
Here’s a swell fall number (weirdly, no-one thinks, or rarely thinks, about fall flings, or winter, perhaps, but fall gets especially short shrift on the romance side). It also is good in winter! And spring, honestly. And even summer, if not too hot, or when you’re feeling daffy (as flings can make one feel). It’s also a near relation to a few better-known drinks that share not only qualities but ingredients, specifically the rocking Rob Roy (which has Angostura bitters instead of orange bitters, and a slightly different vermouth to Scotch ratio), and then pushing it out somewhat, the beautiful Bobby Burns. The Highland Fling is slightly sweeter and with a different bitter-y hint, not better than its cousins, but wonderful none-the-less. Oh, I found it in a sweet bound book called A Guide to Pink Elephants, Volume II (Richards Rosen Associates, 1957), sized to fit in a decently-large pocket.
The Highland Fling
2 ounces Scotch (I’d suggest a nice blended number, but you be you)
1 ounces sweet vermouth
2 dashes orange bitters
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with cracked ice. Add the Scotch, sweet vermouth, and bitters. Stir well.
Our last (for now, at least) Cocktail Talk from Craig Rice’s rollicking The Wrong Murder is a short one, but I loved the sentiment contained within it. Who doesn’t need a Martini to chase straight gin? Don’t get so liquored up that you miss The Wrong Murder Cocktail Talk Part I or Part II, to learn more about the book and the amazing author (for that matter, read past Craig Rice Cocktail Talks for even more), as I’m keeping this intro short as a shot.
On the step just below them was a bottle of gin, a shakerful of Martinis, and a few extra glasses, thoughtfully brought along in case of breakage. The Martinis, Helene’s father had explained, were there to be used as a chaser for the gin.
This jewel of a favorite of mine and many was (at least the stories tell us this) originally created by the legendary Harry Johnson in the late 1800s, featuring the recipe in his New and Improved Bartender Manual from 1900. It’s a flavorful gem of a drink, balancing herbal notes from a trio of ingredients nicely. Here and there you see it made differently, with another ingredient added or otherwise. I find the three below the most artistic rendering, and goes with I believe the original idea, aligning three ingredients with three gems (Bijou the word having jewel as one definition): gin and diamond, sweet vermouth and ruby, and green Chartreuse and emeralds.
The Bijou
Cracked ice
1 -1/2 ounces gin
3/4 ounce green Chartreuse
3/4 ounce sweet vermouth
Lemon twist, for garnish (sometimes this is skipped, and if you skip it I won’t fuss, but I feel it’s not a bad adornment)
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add the gin, Chartreuse, and vermouth. Stir well.
2. Strain the mixture into a cocktail glass. Twist the twist over the glass and drop it in.
We turn to a perfectly-made Martini in our third quote from the Second Fletcher Flora Mystery Megapack (published by Wildside Press), the same tome of Fletcher Flora goodness that gave us the memorable and recently posted Kill Me Tomorrow Cocktail Talk and Hell Hath No Fury Cocktail Talk. Now, as today’s pulpy gem shouldn’t be rushed, much like a four-to-one Martini shouldn’t be, I’m going to skip any further intro (outside of telling you to read all the Fletcher Flora Cocktail Talks to learn more about the author).
“Nettie likes you, I think, and it’s rarely that she likes anyone at all. It must be your irresistible charm. I’m having an early Martini. Will you have one?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“They’re in the pitcher on the table there. I remembered the ratio exactly. Four to one.”
“Good. Will you have another one with me?”
“Later, darling. Four-to-one Martinis shouldn’t be rushed, especially when they get an early start.”
Our second Cocktail Talk from the Second Fletcher Flora Mystery Megapack comes from a story within that mighty tome of Flora-goodness (published by Wildside Press) called Kill Me Tomorrow. Before heading into a martini below, however, be sure to read the Hell Hath No Fury Cocktail Talk, to learn more about the Megapack and about Fletcher Flora – for that matter, don’t miss all the past Fletcher Flora Cocktail Talks! Then come back for the below Martini fun.
She had lifted her glass to drink again, but the action was suspended suddenly with the edge of crystal just touching her lips. Her breath stirred slightly the gin and vermouth, and her eyes, wide and still and black in the contrived dusk, stared at him across the golden surface. After a moment, with a sad little sigh, she tipped the glass and set it down again.
“Poor dear. It’s always such an ordeal going to the dentist. You’d better have a drink at once.”
“I could use one, all right.”
He signaled a waiter and asked for bourbon and water. When it arrived, he drank half of it quickly.
Years and years ago I featured here on the Spiked Punch a quote we’ll call A Man’s Head Cocktail Part I, at least we will now, as today we are having A Man’s Head Part II! Both are from the George Simenon book of the same name, a book featuring his character par excellence, Inspector Maigret, the taciturn, sometimes slow-moving, relentless, irreplaceable Parisian policeman, and a book (you may have guessed this!), I recently re-read. It was as good this time as the first time, whisking you away in a bygone Paris through prose that is as unmistakable as our Inspector. This case circles around a man waiting to be hung for a double murder, but a double murder Maigret has come to believe the man didn’t commit – so he basically breaks him out of prison, and lets the chips fly. They come to fly around a bar for part of the time, the famous La Coupole, which is where the action, as it is, is taking place in the below. In that quote, a Rose cocktail is ordered, which if you don’t know (I had to double check), is a mix of London dry gin, Heering cheery liqueur, and dry vermouth, garnished with a cherry. My guess is there are about 137 Rose cocktails, but this is a classic number that you see referred to as “French style,” making me believe it’s the Rose below!
And William Kirby, pushing his way between two people, held out a hand across the mahogany bar.
“How are you, Bob?”
Mrs. Kirby went straight up to the yellow-haired Swedish girl, kissing her and talking volubly in English.
The newcomers had no need to order drinks. Bob promptly handed Kirst a whiskey and soda, and mixed a Rose for his young wife, asking:
“Back from Biarritz already?”
“Only stayed three days. It was raining worse than here.”
I’m realizing now, after a period of reflection, that I didn’t actually say inThe Five Bells and Bladebone Part I Cocktail Talk what the book was about, outside of a general overview into Martha Grimes books being named after pubs (or at least a fair portion of them and all the ones I’ve read). The non-description is a bit of an oversight, not that I’m here on the Spiked Punch to do book reviews. But I would be happy to try and entice you to read the books we Cocktail Talk from, if in a light manner that doesn’t interrupt your drinking. With that: a bit of a TW (twat-waffle) is found after being murdered and stuffed into a secretaire, which has been delivered to an antique dealer, who resides in the same town as wealthy ex-lord (he gave up the title, if you’re worried) Melrose Plant, bestie of the intrepid and dreamy (at least to some of the ladies) Inspector Jury (star solver in the Grimes pantheon). From there, there’s a confusing case of identity, some British village characters, a dip into Thames-adjacent London (where our titled pub is), and lots of gin. In the below quote for a start.
As she poured a small Niagara of gin into the pitcher, Jury said, “I’m sorry. Were you expecting a friend?”
“Only you, Superintendent.” She filled the cap of the vermouth bottle, poured half back in the bottle, and added this breath of vermouth to the pitcher.
“Olive? A twist? I prefer a bit of garlic rubbed round the glass myself. Or would you rather have vodka?”
“The search for the perfect Martini, is that it?”
“The perfect Martini, Superintendent, is a belt of gin from the bottle; one has to be slightly civilized, however.”
