Ah, here we are, 2025. If you can believe it – a new year, and one that would have seemed impossibly futuristic to a young me. Of course, the things that appeared top of the importance list to young me (I am old, I was young, you get it) on a January 3rd at say my tenth year, well, I’d have a hard time remembering them now, outside of whispers, at best. Not to say my memory is horrible, but, you know, time passes, specifics slip. For some reason, the early days of a new year, when so many are making resolutions and looking forward, always has me looking into the past, too. And when doing such, one needs the proper cocktail accompaniment – like this very drink, An Elusive Memory, which is named appropriately, and tastes swell, too. It combines deliciously-proper London-style gin Boodles (a firm favorite of mine for making cocktails and cause the name itself is fun to say) with a few friends that at first may not seem to go together: the exquisite Meletti anisette, the legendary Lillet, and Peychaud’s intriguing Whiskey Barrel Aged bitters. Really, we’re globe-trotting here, and the mixture comes together as smoothly as a flight without turbulence. All these flavors that may appear to be clashing are actually cozy, with various notes surfacing as you sip – in a way, to bring it all together, like memories surfacing as you troll the ol’ brain pan.
Hey, it’s the day after Thanksgiving! Hope that you had a filling day (those reading who celebrate, that is), and have found some things to be thankful for (this sentiment goes to all, celebrating or not). As for me, I’m thankful that I have some leftover homemade cranberry sauce, so that I can whip up a few Gizmos, the world’s finest day-after-Thanksgiving drink. It’s mingling of delicious gin – I go London style – with leftover cranberry sauce, and a smidge of simple syrup (which, if your cranberry sauce is sweetish already, you can skip. Mine’s fairly tangy as a rule, so I sometimes like that extra sweetness here). Thanks to you for having one, and double thanks to anyone making me one of these holiday delights.
The Gizmo
Ice cubes
2-1/2 ounces gin
1 ounce homemade cranberry sauce
1/2 ounce simple syrup (optional)
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin and cranberry sauce, and syrup if using. Shake exceptionally well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Drink, thankfully as you can.
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.
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.
You know, you can’t have desserts every day. Well, maybe you can! But for me, that’s a waistline-bursting situation. So, on those dessert skipping days, I try to just have a nice dessert drink (haha). Of course, my first choice is the king of the smooth, creamy, sweet cocktails drinks the Alexander, which people have been adoring since 1916 (not me, I’m old but not that old). Crafted of gin, crème de cacao, and cream, it’s of course a dream. But sometimes dreams can change! Today, my sweet-tooth sweeties, that change is coming via Dumante Verdenoce pistachio liqueur. As you might guess by the title accent, it’s crafted in Italy using Sicilian pistachios, and delivers a lush, nutty flavor, which subs in easily here for the crème de cacao, allowing us to keep the original’s smooth velvety-ness, with the gin accents and add some nuttiness nutty. Tasty. Enough that you could skip dessert.
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.”
