Here’s the thing: I was drinking this drink with this name before said name showed up on the tip of the tongue of every pirate thanks to a famous movie that then became like, what, five famous movies? Are there more? I can remember going to the first of said piratical movie franchise in the theater (of all things) and thinking “great, now everyone’s gonna think the Black Pearl cocktail is named after Cap’n Jack’s ship.” But now, upon reflection – does it matter? As long as this bubbly, sort-a romantic (I always suggest making it for two, and why you might ask? Perhaps it’s the bubbly, perhaps the addition of Cognac, a historic drink for those in love, or the sultriness of the Tia Maria, or even the cherries? But I think it’s all combined) number is consumed, that’s all that matters. And anyway, pirates like romance, too.
Black Pearl, Serves 2
Ice cubes
2 ounce Cognac
2 ounces Tia Maria
Chilled Champagne
2 cherries, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the Cognac and Tia Maria. Stir well.
2. Strain the mix equally into two flute or wine glasses. Top each with Champagne (should be about 4 ounces apiece). Garnish each with a cherry either dropped in, or speared and floated on top.
I’ve had a couple Erik Ambler Cocktail Talks in the past (the long-ago past if we’re talking about the full age of this blog, but the short-ago past if we’re talking the age of peoplekind), and today feel I maybe didn’t give Mr. Ambler enough credit way back when. Or perhaps I’ve changed, as I just read Journey Into Fear, his international, I suppose intrigue novel is one way to describe it, spy-ish, is another, though the main character is in no way a spy, but an engineer of sorts. Said main character is in Turkey for his company in hope of updating Turkey’s water defense systems at the beginning of/right before WWI, and it turns out other countries aren’t hyped for this and so want to kill him. Exciting, right! I loved the pacing, the person-thrust-into-the-espionage-world nature, the exotic historic locales, and the intriguingly suspicious side characters that populate it. Enough that I went back and re-read another one of his books, and liked it better than in the past, too. Now I’m on the hunt for more! Hopefully more with Cocktail Talks like the below.
“I think some food would do me good.”
“My dear Mr. Graham! How stupid of me! Some food. Of course! We can stop at Novi. You will be my guest. And if there is any champagne to be had, we shall have it. There is nothing like champagne when one is depressed.”
Graham felt suddenly a little light-headed. He laughed.
The Consul raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry,” Graham apologized. “You must excuse me. You see, it is rather funny. I had an appointment to meet someone on the two o’clock train. She’ll be rather surprised to see me.”
Here we have another British Library Crime Classics Cocktail Talk. What are the British Library Crime Classics, I can hear you ask? I’m glad you did ask, friend! These are rediscovered novels and short story anthologies brought back from the mists of time for our modern-day reading pleasure. I’ve read a few of the novels, but even more of the short story collections, which are marvelously done (the editor is a chap named Martin Edwards, who also writes his own mystery novels, and does so much editing I doubt he sleeps). The most recently read one for me was called Murder At the Manor: Country House Mysteries, and as with all of them, it’s a delight in the main, with stories from a host of authors known and unknown – really, these are dandy ways to discover authors from the past you may have missed. For me, that includes J.J. Bell, journalist and author, who it seems wasn’t as well known for his mystery output as perhaps he should have been (perhaps more known for comic fiction). The quote below from his story “The Message on the Sun-Dial” features a not-so-savory man named Bolsover. You might not like him by the story’s end, but you have to admire his ability to drink at lunch.
He lunched leisurely at an unusually early hour. He preceded the meal with a couple of cocktails, accompanied it with a pint of Champagne, and followed it with a liqueur. He felt much better, though annoyed by an unwanted tendency to perspire. On his leaving the restaurant, the tendency became more pronounced, so much so that he feared it must be noticeable, and once more he took a taxi, telling the man to go Kensington way.
While I wouldn’t say our front yard in the north Seattle area is the prettiest – I tend to shade towards the scraggly when it comes to the grass, for one, cause over-watering is a problem, ya’ know – it is blessed with an abundance (or over-abundance as neighbors might say) of lovely, bee-utiful, lavender. When it flowers in summer, the air smells delish, the flowers hide the dead grass, and the bees are buzzing happily. But what, if anything, to do with it? I mean, pretty for pretty-ness’ sake is swell! All for it. Art for art’s sake, too. And making bees buzz jollily is a state of being we should aim for, cause bees rule. But, but, it’s also quite fun to utilize a little of that lavender in making lavender simple syrup (recipe below), which can then be mixed with gin and Prosecco into this very cocktail, the Lavanda (which sounds like a sultry dance, but isn’t. Not saying you can’t have a few of these and dance btw. Cause that, that you should do). The combo is classy in a summertime way, fragrant in a floral way, and makes an ideal accompaniment to a summer’s late afternoon or evening. Thinking more, what a crowning glory of a drink this would be at a summer wedding. You should get married! You can serve this – I have lots of lavender to spare.
1. Add the flowers from the top of one lavender sprig, gin, and lavender simple syrup to a cocktail shaker. Using a muddler or wooden spoon, muddle well.
2. Fill the cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Shake like dancer.
2. Strain into a flute. Top with chilled Prosecco, and garnish with the second lavender sprig.
First Note: To make lavender simple syrup, add 1/4 cup chopped fresh lavender, 2 cups sugar, and 1 1/2 cups water to a medium-sized saucepan. Heat over medium-high heat until it reaches a low boil, stirring regularly. Once it reaches that low boil, reduce the heat to medium- low and keep the syrup at a simmer, still stirring, for 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool completely.
Second Note: For gin here, you could go traditional London style (like, Broker’s gin, which wouldn’t be a bad choice), as the juniper plays with lavender well. But you could also go something less traditional,
Does one, when one is older, feel oldest in the Spring (as opposed to the other seasons)? I could see an argument being made for Winter, as the cold chills old bones, and perhaps Fall as well, as that’s the season when things (trees and their ilk) shed leaves and begin to go dormant, which points to getting old. In Summer, all are young, for some moments at least. I lean Spring, I have to say, as it’s when youth begins to be so evident after Winter, what with buds on the trees and shorts on or above the knees. Not to maudlin naturally, but mulling it, and placing that point as a reason why I’m having this delicious number today, a drink names after the explorer who went looking for the fountain of youth. Cause when the old bones yearn for being younger, that ol’ fountain sounds mighty fine. As it’s not, ya know, real, this drink (which will make you feel younger, for moments if not forever) will have to suffice, for now!
March is a celebratory month (as is every month, I would hazard to hypothesize), and celebratory months deserve punches, as you can celebrate by your lonesome, but it’s not really the same as celebrating with a passel of pals or a flock of family. Is it? I don’t feel it is. Those sole celebrators, don’t get up in it. You can have your own stance. Anywho, following along the celebratory-and-punches track, here’s one to consider: Bombay Punch. I have to admit, I’m not sure why it’s called “Bombay,” as it doesn’t contain to my eye any ingredients from the Bombay region – though there are I believe some good brandies made in India, so you could go that route! Brandy being the base here, onto which grape-derived goodness is added nutty maraschino, orange-y Cointreau, apricot-y apricot liqueur, some tangy oj, and some bubbly bubbles. It’s a fruity, bumping, sparkling treat, one ideal for any celebration – though if it is a solo one (as we chatted about above), don’t drink this all at once by yourself.
2 750-milliliter bottles brut Champagne or sparkling wine
10 to 12 orange slices
1. Fill a large punch bowl halfway full with ice cubes. Add the brandy, maraschino, Cointreau, apricot liqueur, and orange juice. Using a ladle or large spoon, stir briefly.
2. Slowly, slowly, pour the Champagne into the punch bowl. Again, this time a bit more slowly, stir briefly.
3. Add the orange slices, stir once more, and serve in punch glasses, trying to get an orange slice in each glass.
Sometimes it’s good to go back to the basics. This here (or, below here) is my recipe for Champagne Punch, the one I picked up from family holiday gatherings when I was a wee one, the one I was making for parties long before even this blog started (so, dinosaurs were walking the earth), and long before I put the recipe in Good Spirits (and probably others books and articles), and long before I started typing this sentence (which is itself rather long now, though not as long as some by, say, Henry James). It’s a basic ol’ bubbly fruity rummy punchy number, not all la-de-da, but very solid, very tasty, and very much a sparkling treat that’s wonderful around the holiday season – which, low and behold, we are now in, or nearly in if you don’t want to jump the gun. A stance I understand, but good to be prepared pals! So, have the basic recipe below in your back pocket – it’s sure to be a hit at your holiday gatherings, which I’m sure will be anything but basic.
Champagne Punch
Serves 10
Ice (in block form if possible; if not, large chunks)
6 ounces freshly squeezed orange juice
4 ounces simple syrup
2 ounces freshly squeezed lime juice
2 ounces freshly squeezed lemon juice
6 ounces white rum
6 ounces dark rum
Once 750-milliliter bottle chilled Champagne
Orange, lime, and lemon slices, for garnish
1. Add the ice to a large punch bowl. If using chunks (as opposed to a large block of ice), fill the bowl just under halfway.
2. Add the orange juice, simple syrup, lime juice, and lemon juice. With a large spoon or ladle, stir 10 times.
3. Add the white and dark rums. Stir 10 more times.
4. Add Champagne, but not too quickly. Enjoy the moment. Add a goodly amount of orange, lime, and lemon slices. Stir, but only once.
5. Ladle into punch glasses or festive goblets. Try to ensure that every guest gets a slice of fruit and a smile.
If you can, picture this: it is 86 years ago today (you have to use your imagination here, people). You are with the family, or friends, or just solo, and decide to go to a movie. What do you pick? Why The Philadelphia Story, of course. Romance, comedy, and the legendary trio of Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant, and Jimmy Stewart? How could you go to anything else! And then, while watching you get to hear the below quote, which is an ideal Cocktail Talk. Of course, it being today and not 86 years ago, you can just stream up said movie. Go to!
Champagne’s funny stuff. I’m used to whiskey. Whiskey is a slap on the back, and Champagne’s a heavy mist before my eyes.
