I have a pal named Daisy. She’s not from Santa Cruz, but I still feel I should introduce her (and probably others, as it’s not what you’d call a well-known drink today) to this charming sipper, which I found when perusing the liquor book shelves and pulled out the pocket-sized The Standard Cocktail Guide: A Manual of Mixed Drinks Written for the American Host. Written by gadabout, bon vivant, and early cocktailian Crosby Gaige (author also of the Cocktail Guide and Ladies Companion, which is a bit more fun) and published in 1944. A dandy little read, so keep your eyes open for it. And full of good drinks. Browsing random old books is a jolly way to decide on a drink to have when you aren’t feeling 100% in any direction, as I was when first making this. I used mint – because I had a lot – instead of the traditional Daisy fruit topping, and used crushed instead of shaved ice, as the shaver was down (or non-existent). Still, a tasty drink, and one all Daisies – and most others – will probably dig sipping.
The Santa Cruz Daisy
2 ounces white rum
1/4 ounce maraschino
1/4 ounce simple syrup
Crushed ice
Fresh mint sprigs
Splash of soda water
1. Add the rum, maraschino, simple syrup to a mixing glass and stir well.
2. Crush a bunch of ice in your Lewis bag (see NOTE below).
3. Fill a goblet or comparable glass with ice, and strain the mix gently over it, topping with more ice as needed.
4. Add a splash of soda and garnish with mint sprigs.
A NOTE: If you don’t know (and I didn’t at one point) a Lewis bag is the traditional bag bartenders use to crush ice. If you can get one, the McSology Lewis bag is ideal, made in Seattle out of 100% cotton canvas. Put ice cubes in the bag, get out your muddler, and start crushing.
I’ve had a few Cyril Hare Cocktail Talks on the Spiked Punch in the past, as I’ve slowly been filling out my collection of his books. If you don’t know (and you should, as he should be more well-known today), he was an early-to-mid last century English writer, as well as a barrister and judge (the latter under his real name of Alfred Alexander Gordon Clark). He was perhaps mainly known for his books featuring Francis Pettigrew, a not-super-successful barrister who tends to helps solve the mysteries via an intriguing point of law or two – Hare also wrote other mysteries, with the same precise language and plots combined with local color that I like. Good stuff! Tragedy at Law was the first, thought weirdly I hadn’t read it until recently. Many call it the best mystery set in the legal world, and it could be, at that. Not all over-the-top as some modern books, but well-paced, keeping you thinking, and at the same time learning about the British judicial system at the time, in a way that’s never dry – except for the dry wit! And a little brandy anxiety.
For the Shaver was not laughing with the others. More, he was not listening. He was sitting glumly regarding the tablecloth and from time to time helping himself to another liqueur brandy from the bottle which had somehow become anchored at his elbow. Characteristically, Pettigrew’s first anxiety was for the brandy. “There’s not too much of that ‘Seventy-Five left,” he reflected. “I must remember to tell the Wine Committee at the next meeting. Of course, we’ll never be able to get any more as good as that, but we must do the best we can . . .”
We are just two days until the calendar start of fall – not saying it’s not the actual start of fall either, but really, seasons aren’t meant to be started up and shut down like light-switches, and are as much perhaps a state of mind as much as anything. For me, on some level, fall hasn’t started properly until I’ve had a glass of this Steaming Spiked Cider, which traces back to a recipe had when I was young (sans booze, unless I snuck a glass from the parental pot). Does that mean the years I forgot and didn’t have this didn’t have a fall, going straight from summer to winter? Maybe? Maybe not, but there’s something about this apple (apples being the fruit of fall, naturally) and cinnamon and spice and rummy mix that screams (gently) of hayrack rides, barn dances, chillily pretty evenings, eventually Halloween and the surrounding happily haunted days, and if that wasn’t enough, I think it’d be swell for fall football afternoons (as is Football Punch, of course). So, it’s fall in a warm glass. Yummy fall. And, to be fair, it’s pretty good during winter, too. But that’s another season, and I don’t want to skip the days too rapidly.
Steaming Spiked Cider
4 quarts fresh apple cider
20 ounces cinnamon schnapps
16 ounces white rum
1 teaspoon whole cloves
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
10 cinnamon sticks
10 apple slices, for garnish
1. Add the cider to a large nonreactive saucepan. Heat over medium heat for 5 to 10 minutes
2. Add the cinnamon schnapps, rum, cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon sticks. Simmer for 15 minutes, but don’t let the mixture boil.
3. Once thoroughly warm, ladle the mixture into heatproof mugs, making sure that each mug gets a cinnamon stick. Garnish each with an apple slice.
A Note: Here are three thing that I believe are important when making this. 1. Be careful with the cloves when scaling (meaning, if you make a bigger batch, be careful as too many cloves can take over the flavor). 2. Use apple cider (which is good and cloudy) not apple juice. 3. Boiling boils off some of the alcohol. If getting mistakenly to a boil, or leaving the cider on the stove for an extended period, add more rum as needed. Cause you gotta stay warm on multiple levels.
A Second Note: This may be too much cinnamon for some. I see no problem, for balance, in upping the rum.
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.
If you thought I was only going to have The Wrong Murder Part I Cocktail Talk on this site, and thereby only having one quote from Craig Rice’s third John J. Malone book, boy were you wrong. I think they’ll be at least one more even than this. Don’t miss the past Craig Rice Cocktail Talks, either, so you can learn more about this neat mid-last-century female crime writer and gadabout. But first, check out the below, where press agent (currently unemployed press agent, that is) Jake Justus (one of our three main characters) and a few others are in need of rum due to his recently-married wife Helen Brand’s wild driving:
As soon as Jake felt that he could turn his head without its falling off his neck, he looked back. The gangster’s car was still following, a little farther behind, but there. Jake decided to take back fifty per cent of everything he had thought about Little Georgie la Cerra. Or at least his driver.
Helene said, “There’s a bottle of Bacardi somewhere in the back seat, in case any of you big, strong me feel faint.”
By the time the bottle had been passed around, her passengers were able to speak again.
I made this smoky, fruity, herbally, wonderfully wonderful (if I can say that ‘umbly), lots of ingredient having, good in late summer, double base spirit (!!), globe-trotting, full flavored, curvy, talkable, sippable, not too strange even if it looks sorta strange, shaked up but not over-shaked, dreamy in the afternoon (but also in the evening, and maybe even at brunch), delightfully friendly tipple for the first time a ways back. I think it was in honor of all the electricians who put the cables and cords into my various houses (though maybe it was in some sort-of smoky way a doubling down on smoke during one of those Seattle days when there are sadly fires on the east side of WA, bringing smoke our way, as this has a double smoke shot), but if not, then hey, have it, and toast to your favorite electrician. Some, or one (the Chase Smoked vodka, from the UK) of the ingredients might not be super easy for all to get, though the internet is a smashing (and scary) place, but trust me: it’s worth it.
The Wrong Murder is the third book in Craig Rice’s John J. Malone series, with Eight Faces at Three being the first and The Corpse Steps Out being the second. I have a couple Eight Faces at Three Cocktail Talks, which I highly suggest you read so you can learn more about the amazing and intriguing Craig Rice (short version: born in 1908, first book 1939, lived an incredible tipsy life, married much – including to a beat poet – was the first crime writer on the cover of Time magazine, was said by a friend to be able to crochet, play chess, read a book, and compose music at the same time all while holding a highball, was very popular, then faded, and now hopefully is making a tiny comeback). But I, for some reason, though I’ve read it, did not have any Cocktail Talks from the second book. Not sure what rock fell on my head! Because I know the main characters were tippling throughout. The main characters being (as in the first book, and the third) press agent Jake Justus, his love, heiress Helen Brand, and defense council John J. Malone. The third book actually starts with the first two getting married, at which celebration a guest bets Jake they can commit a murder without him being able to solve it – the bet prize being a bar the guest owns, which is catnip to Jake, currently out of a job. There’s lots of madcap highjinks, lots of near-death driving by Helen, lots of missed honeymoon plane reservations, lots of Malone bemoaning it all, and lots of drinking. They still love the rye, as in the first two books, and as the below demonstrates.
She frowned. “I need a drink to help me think clearly.”
“Follow me,” Jake said. “I’m a St. Bernard.”
The walked through the softly falling snow down Madison Street to the corner of Wacker Drive, turned south for half a block, and entered a pleasantly noisy, though far from ornate, saloon.
Jake waved Helen to a secluded corner and called, “Two double ryes, quick.”
“Poor Malone,” she said softly, peeling off her gloves. The rye brought a little color back to her cheeks.
In late August, as you know (but I’m going to refresh our memories anyway), in many parts of the northern hemisphere, it gets rather hot. Or really hot. Or crazy hot. And in those hot days, it’s best to have a bubbly, cooling, drink, one that perhaps is a little lighter on its feet (read: not quite as strong) while still bursting with flavor, as long as said bursting doesn’t increase any temperature reading. Also, in late August, for some, it’s a time when you realize that you missed out on summer vacations (by choice or circumstance), and want to quickly remedy the sitch. This drink won’t actually take you on a vacation, but it does metaphorically (or drinkaphorically) do so, as it’s two key ingredients are Italian aperitif Aperol and British aperitif Pimm’s No. 1 Cup. The drink itself is named after a port city in Genoa, Italy, with the Pimm’s standing in for English sailors who used to dock in said city. Neat, right! And so, by drinking this effervescent (bubbles and refresh uptick via ginger ale) treat, you will both be taking a European trip, of sorts, and taking the heat off. Quite a combo.
