October 11, 2019
I recently wrote about a drink called The Mighty M, which featured a trio of Washington-made treats, one of which was Salish Sea’s Maple liqueur. Which is delicious, and perhaps the only maple liqueur? The only one I’ve had at least! It’s just very lush, rich, maple-y, nutty-ish, and delish. I was trying to think of more things to do with it, and had one of those booze-y light bulb moments – why not try subbing it in for the crème de cacao in a classic Alexander? Boom! Light bulb boom! So, I brought in another Washington pal (Seattle Distilling Company’s gin, which is an ideal gin, made with eleven botanicals, and a swell and welcoming juniper, spice, nut, thing happening), and the cream, and it all turned into a dessert-y dream. A dream I tell you!
1-1/2 ounces Seattle Distilling Company gin
1-1/2 ounces Salish Sea Maple liqueur
1-1/2 ounces heavy cream
Sprinkle of chocolate powder
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin, liqueur, and cream. Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Sprinkle with a light dust of chocolate.
August 2, 2019
Holy where-does-the-time-go! It was eleven years now that I wrote on this very blog (you can pat me on the back for my longevity later) about drinking Margaritas via a trolley in my backyard. ELEVEN YEARS! My mind is blown. And the trolley has fallen to ruin, and I haven’t had a Margarita since.
No, no, I kid, cause that would be insane. I’ve had a fair amount of this classic tequila charmer that’s known near and far and then near again. However! I hadn’t until sort-a recently had one made with wonderful WA distillery (sidenote: WA has the best distilleries in the world) Brovo Spirits wonderful Orange Curaçao. And I feel bad (though many weren’t bad) for the various me’s from history who drank their Margs without it, as this orange curaçao brings said classic drink up even another level when used as the crucial orange component, thanks to a trio of dried orange peels: sweet Californian, bitter Laranha from Curaçao itself, and legendary Seville from Spain. Those mingles with spices and Maui brown sugar on a base of neutrals: cane and grain. End result: rich and balanced orange action underpinned by just the right amount of spice. Try it in your next Margarita, but be warned. You’ll like it so much, you’ll want to make a giant jug of it.
The Margarita with Brovo Spirits Orange Curaçao
3 ounces tequila blanco
2 ounces Brovo Spirits Orange Curaçao
1 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice
Lime slice, for garnish
1. If making one, fill a cocktail shaker halfway with ice cubes. Add the tequila, Brovo Spirits Orange Curaçao, and lime juice. Shake well.
2. Strain through a fine strainer into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the lime slice.
A Note: My Margaritas tend to be pretty and strong. Just as an FYI.
June 28, 2019
The north wind says, I bring a clear spirit with the breath of juniper and some cracked ice for chilling. The east wind says, I’ll bring a classically-style orange essence built on grapes and a nice glass. The west wind says, I’ll bring something with a hint of bitter and herb made in the mountains (or thereabouts) and a twist of orange. The south wind says I’ll bring a bit more bitter undercurrenting via a legend that needs no introducing, along with a long spoon for stirring. That’s all the winds, and now we have our drink for today.
1-1/2 ounces gin (I used nice reliable Bombay)
1 ounce Pierre Ferrand Orange curaçao
1/2 ounce Breckenridge Bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters
Orange twist, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add the gin, curaçao, Breckenridge bitters, and Angostura bitters. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the orange twist. Drink four times, once looking each direction.
June 21, 2019
Hey sunshine daydreamers! Guess what today is? That’s right beach beauties, it’s the first day of summer, and you know what that means? Smear on the sunscreen and take off your sweaters, slip on your sunglasses and slip into some short shorts (or whatever your hot weather wear of choice), and start enjoying the rising mercury and retreating clouds and cold. All of that, plus make this this drink, which slides you straight into summer, while remembering that winter, like all seasons, isn’t gone for long. How does it do that? Well, the rum is a summer standby, of course, but dark rum can really play year round, and its pal here, Bénédictine, has that rich herbal monastic thing going on that keeps one warm when the temperature is chillier, but also fits into a number of sun-tastic tiki type drinks. See where we’re going? The final player: Crabbies ginger beer, superficially Orange Spiced variety, but if you can’t find it, go with the regular variety. Ginger beer is of course a refreshing refresher, but the orange spice, well, that’s winter time. Really, though, forget my shoehorning – this is a nice one to sip as the seasons change.
The Happy Crab
1-1/2 ounce dark rum
1/2 ounce Bénédictine
5 ounces Crabbies Orange Spiced ginger beer
1. Fill a big highball or comparable glass about halfway full with ice cubes. Add the dark rum and Benedictine. Stir briefly.
2. Add the Crabbies. Stir to combine. Face the sun with a smile.
June 14, 2019
I know you know about Ardbeg Uigeadail (because you are smart and know things). I mean, it was named World Whiskey of the Year by Jim Murray’s Whisky Bible, due to its “complexity” and “silky brilliance,” is crafted with care by the now-legendary Islay distillery, has a name that’s also unforgettable (and pronounced “Oog-a-dal” which is just plain fun) and coming from a loch near the distillery, is aged in ex bourbon barrels and sherry butts, boasts a lovely golden hue, and is freakishly reasonable. Especially when you consider the rich aroma of peat, walnuts, a little sea and forest, and spice, the taste of honey, malt, more spice, then a big, muscular-but-smooth smoke, and a raisin, caramel, smoke finish. I mean, with all of that, I know you know about it – of you should.
As you’d expect, it’s a swell sipping Scotch, solo, over an ice piece or two, or with a little splash of spring water. Yummy, indeed. However, when I was lucky enough (don’t be mad at me, please) to get a bottle in the mail the other day, I of course had some solo, but then had to also try it in a cocktail. With a sipper this swell, you don’t need to or want to bring too many dancing partners into the set. Keeping it simple is key, letting this malt shine, while accenting a little in the corners with appropriate additions. Here, I went with orange stalwart and cocktail classic Cointreau. To bring a few more herbal/spice notes under our big two, I brought in two bitters, just a dash of each: Regan’s orange bitters and old pal Peychuad’s. Altogether, the orange and bitter-ing players add to the Uigdeadail, while letting it take the lead. Smoke in the Grove’s flavor-filled, hearty, but maintaining that silky brilliance. Yummy, again.
Smoke in the Grove
2-1/2 ounces Ardbeg Uigeadail
3/4 ounces Cointreau
Dash Regan’s orange bitters
Dash Peychaud’s bitters
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add everything. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. I know you know how you good it is, but hey, drink it anyway.
June 7, 2019
“And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flames are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.”
It is a wild historical fact which I’ve uncovered, as well as just some wild genius, that T.S. Eliot, years ago, wrote a poem (Little Gidding, part of Four Quartets) about this drink that I invented just weeks or months ago. I mean, looking into the future that way is phenomenal! And the drink in itself is fairly phenomenal (I say, humbly) as it mixes together a few ingredients that you might not have thought went together: rosé wine and tequila (which of course is made with fire in a way). But they do! As Eliot predicted. Amazing. Not sure how the other two ingredients tie into the poem, but I feel that’s my fault, not being great at literary criticism. Oh, those other two ingredients include Bluewater’s lovely, and limited (so come out here and get when you can), tantalizing floral and spice Cardamon Elderflower liqueur, and the also lovely Carpano Bianco vermouth, which has a delicate wine, citrus-and-other-fruit, springtime botanical nature. Really, this is a pretty poetic drink all told! Try it, while reading the poem, and see if you agree. And if you don’t, take it up with Eliot.
1-1/2 ounces rosé (something dry but with floral accents works nicely)
1-1/2 tequila blanco
1/2 ounce Bluewater Cardamon Elderflower liqueur
1/2 ounce Carpano Bianco vermouth
Lemon twist, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add our four core lines (or boozes, that is). Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass, garnish with the twist, and get your poetry going.
May 24, 2019
Some drinks just really get you – or, get me, as I’m typing, but I don’t think I’m the only one this happens to, so went with the “you” to encompass the world of people (like you) who like drinks. Does that make sense? If not, well, I understand. I also understand that this drink gets me, due to have just two ingredients, which line up with the two places I’ve lived in the last, oh, 23 years, Washington state and Italy. I’m cheating a tiny bit on the last one, cause the Italian ingredient is the legendary Meletti anisette (an all-time favorite of mine), which is made in the Le Marche region, where I didn’t actually live (I was in north Umbria pals), but I’ve been there, and I love this anisette, so let’s go with it. The other ingredient is made right here in W-A, and right outside of Seattle – it’s (spoiler alert) Woodinville Whiskey Co.’s swell bourbon. So, that’s why this drink gets me, cause of that combo. It also gets me cause of the wonderful taste. Now, what drinks get you? And does everything finally make sense (here’s hoping!)?
The West Coast of the Le Marche
2-1/2 ounces Woodinville Whiskey Co. bourbon
1/2 ounce Meletti Anisette
1: Filled a cocktails shaker or mixing glass with cracked ice. Add the bourbon and the anisette. Stir well.
2. Fill an old fashioned or comparable glass with a couple fat ice cubes. Strain the mix over the ice. Get it.
May 17, 2019
Okay, don’t be upset, but this drink (which is delicious, a smidge sweet, a hint botanical, a miniscule citrus-y, fragrant, all that) uses a homemade ingredient which I’m not providing the recipe for. Because I sorta forgot it! See, I was making some basil-lemon simple syrup as one does, but I didn’t actually write down exactly how much basil I used. It was let’s say a decent-sized bunch and a half. And I didn’t write down the exact amount of lemon juice used, but let’s say it was the juice of half a lemon. Can that get you there if you add it to a regular simple syrup recipe that delivers like three cups or thereabouts of syrup? I think it can (don’t forget to let it seep awhile and strain the basil out and all that)! If you are brave, and resourceful, and heroic, which you, I believe, are!
And it’s one wonderful syrup, which here goes wonderfully with gin. I used Sipsmith London Dry gin, which I like lots, and not just cause of the cool swan art on the bottle. But also cause of the lovely juniper, lemon citrus, and orange marmalade, dry-ish profile. It’s a yummy gin if you haven’t had it. And, speaking of yummy, our third ingredient here is Carpano Bianco vermouth, a light, wine-citrus-mineral-fruit treat that should be a part of any respectable set of liquor shelves. Altogether, this drink delivers in a manner ideal for a spring day or summer evening – now you just need to be a little heroic and make it.
Within the Week
2 ounces Sipsmith London Dry gin
1/2 ounce Carpano Bianco vermouth
1/2 ounce basil-lemon simple syrup
Basil leaf, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add everything but the leaf (beleaf it!). Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass, and now add the leaf. Leaf it up!