This elegant bubbly number from Good Spirits has a certain savoir faire that gets the point across without becoming all Herb Tarlek about the occasion. By which I mean to say that it’s sexy without being annoying and that it should be served at a time when you’re wanting to have a drink that both tastes good, shows you have class, and is going to be consumed by you and another you that you may just smooch later in the evening.
Does the drink also share the name of a famous movie pirate ship? Sure does. Does this mean that you should start talking like a pirate in the midst of the date-in-front-of-a-fireplace that I alluded to above? Well, I would normally say “of course not,” but if it seems that some “shiver me timbers” and “argh mateys” make sense to you in the moment, then sure, go right ahead. The drink sure won’t mind.
Black Pearl, Serves 2
Ice cubes
2 ounce Cognac
2 ounces Tia Maria
Chilled Champagne
2 cherriest, 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 glass (though the latter won’t get you any smoove points). Top each with Champagne (should be about 4 ounce apiece). Garnish each with a cherry either dropped in, or speared and floated on top.
It’s the day after Thanksgiving – are you having your Gizmo yet? If so, why not? If you don’t know what it is, head on over to an earlier Spiked Punch post for your Gizmo recipe and story. Now, I have to go back to drinking my Gizmo.
Tequila is sometimes given the seasonal shaft. Folks can tend to think of it (except those true tequila fanatics I suppose) only in the hotter months, and only in chilly Margaritas and the occasional other cold number. This means from, oh, October through late February in many areas tequila just doesn’t come to mind for cocktail and drink lovers. I myself may have fallen into this tequila trap a time or two. However, the other night I found myself both craving tequila and freezing (freezing in Seattle means the temperature is down to the mid-30s. Yeah, we’re wimps). “So,” I thought to myself, “what can I do to remedy the situation?” And what I did was come up with the below drink, which I’m calling the Saguaro Steamer:
The funny (both sad funny and just funny) part of it all is that tequila goes smashingly in a hot drink. Thinking about it, it just makes wonderful sense. Tequila tends to be smoky and the flavors mingle well with the steam and hot water. Amazingly well, really. But a little balance and tang and sweet were needed, and that’s where the other ingredients came into play. To add even more flavor and take the edges off, I used the new-ish Mariposa agave nectar liqueur, which mingles agave nectar and 100-percent agave tequila and premium vodka, and which has a floral smoky loveliness going on. Then I added some orange juice (another hot drink casualty that’s surprisingly good here) and topped it all off with the top hot drink topping, nutmeg. I strongly suggest this combo if you want to update your hot drink repertoire and give tequila its due year round.
The Saguaro Steamer
2 ounces Reposado tequila (I used Casa Noble and it was awesome. As it always is)
3/4 ounces Mariposa agave nectar liqueur
3/4 ounces freshly squeezed orange juice
3 ounces pretty hot water (not boiling, but close)
Freshly grated nutmeg
1. Add the tequila, Mariposa, and orange juice to a double-walled Bodum glass or other heat-okay receptacle. Stir.
2. Carefully add the hot water to the mix. Stir again, carefully but thoroughly.
3. Grate a little nutmeg on the top. Make that “ahhh” sound you make when it’s cold out and you’ve just had something deliciously warm.
It’s hard, in a way, to talk about flowers in November. At least in Seattle (where I reside except on those days when I’m traveling the world, spreading the gospel of good drinks, good cheer, and good spirits) where the flowers have taken a vacation. Seems they don’t like the rain. Which means it’s an absolutely fabulous time to have a drink that is flowering, like this one. See, it combines St-Germain elderflower liqueur with Pierre Ferrand Cognac. Flower + grape. Flowering Grape! Get it? And now you see another reason why these are so tasty in dreary ol’ fall. You can have a bunch of them and not feel weighed down at all.
For many moons, our country has been deficient. I’m not sure what we did, exactly (though I can guess—thank you very much Kermit the Frog), but for years we irritated the find people of Sweden. This led to many sad things: a lack of tall blonds, a distinct problem with meatballs, and, most tragically, the complete absence of Swedish Punsch in every single bar from east to west. Swedish Punsch once was a staple of bar shelves and cocktails and home liquor cabinets. With a base of the sugar-cane based spirit Batavia Arrack combined with other flavorings, it had a taste all its own and a devoted following (I’m sort-of guessing on this last point, as most who had it when it was available way back when are sadly now at that big bar in the afterlife). And then some time after Prohibition it vanished. Why! Why! Why!
Well, I certainly don’t know. But, the main point, and what’s causing me to not shake my fist at the sky, is that it’s back and you should become a fan. I’ve recently been dipping into a bottle of Kronan Swedish Punsch and it’s darn delicious. It boasts a seriously yummy toffee-molasses-and-spice taste, with some smokiness smudged in for good measure. The story is that in Sweden it’s had warm with pea soup. Hmm, sounds great (please, everyone agree—we don’t want to irritate the Swedes again). It’s also great in cocktails, including one called the Astor that I found first in the rightly revered Old Waldorf Astoria Bar Book by Albert Crockett. Try it whydontcha.
Halloween, friends and neighbors (especially those neighbors who currently—it’s October as I write—have tombstones or spiders in the yard, all kinds of pumpkins around, maybe a skeleton or two, and more spooky stuff), is almost here. Which means I’m un-burying my favorite eerie fall cocktail, the Sleepy Hollow. I’ve written about it before hither and yon, but always like to bring it up this time of year, cause it’s delicious and matches the holiday so well. Just don’t lose your head over it!
1. Add the mint, lemon juice, and simple syrup to a mixing glass or cocktail shaker. Using a muddler or hefty wooden spoon, muddle well.
2. Fill the cocktail shaker or glass halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin and apricot liqueur. Shake as if you heard the horseman’s hoof beats coming.
3. Strain into a large cocktail glass. Garnish with a sprig of mint and a swizzle stick topped with a plastic head.
Also, if you want to see how to make the drink visually, then I strong suggest you watch the below video—if you’re not too scared, that is.
This is quite a continental moment here on the Spiked Punch. First, tonight, like I usually do on the continent, I ate too much. Then, to combat my over-indulging, I had a healthy dose of Elisir di Salvia, a digestif I made from a recipe taken out of a simply-named book, Tisane, Liquori and Grappe. I have no idea who it’s by, but it’s from the Demera Company and is Italian (which means I translated the recipe. Yeah, I do everything for you. But you deserve it). I picked it up in a little tucked away bookstore in Sansepolcro’s historic center, called Arca Dei Libri. Nice place, really. Only blocks from the can’t-miss-it restaurant Fiorintino. Anywho, Elisir di Salvia is a curious mix of stuff, and the taste reflects it: herb and spice sweetness at the beginning, mellowing Marsala middle, totally different backend flavor and kick. At first, I wasn’t sold, but now I think it’s a weird kind of genius drink. And yes, I felt better after having it after eating too much. Oh, when in the jar cooling its heels, it looks like this:
Elisir di Salvia
1 liter Marsala
1 cup fresh sage leaves
1 orange rind
2 cups high proof vodka or grain alcohol
1/2 cup warm water
1.6 cups sugar
1. Add the Marsala, sage, and orange to an airtight glass container airtight. Let sit for 10 days to two weeks. Shake at least once a day.
2. Dissolve the sugar in the water to make a syrup, let cool, and then add it and the vodka.
3. After 24 hours of rest (or a week, if you’re lazy like me), filter and transfer to a glass bottle. Take 1 shot from the liqueur in all cases of difficult digestion.
Well, it’s been an interesting season for the Cocktail to Cocktail Hour (in the “may you live in interesting times” fashion). With my much-publicized addiction to velvet jackets becoming public, with director, cameraman, writer, and producer Dr. Gonzo’s less-publicized adventures “down south,” and with us drinking away our sponsorship dollars, the year has spun past. And now here we are, the last episode. But what an episode it is, as we solve one of the most-debated cocktail mysteries: where did The Rusty Nail come from and why isn’t it consumed as much today as in 1952? To help us, we have a very special guest, E.P. Gooks* (or, Goose. It gets confusing), a first-rate historian who we did not pay to come on the show. Watch and learn dear ones, and be ready for the next season—it’s gonna be a doozy.**
* Any resemblance to the long-time Cocktail to Cocktail Hour favorite poet Ed Skoog is purely coincidental. All academics look alike.
**This is no way means we’re legally obligated to have another season, much less a doozy season.
