December 15, 2023

What I’m Drinking: The Frank Morgan

Frank Morgan was a character actor whose career started in the silents and then moved into the talkies. He’s perhaps most well-known as the Wizard (and corresponding characters) in the original Wizard of Oz, but had a full movie (and radio!) career, lots of roles, lots of parts. All of this Wikipedia will happily tell you. What it won’t tell you is that he also gave his name to this here cocktail, which combines rich dark rum (we’re going Bacardi Gran Reserva Especial) with nutty sherry (Williams & Humbert Dry Sack Medium sherry to be precise), and Angostura bitters. Okay, it’s not a completely agreed upon fact (though we are in the post-fact age, right? Right) that this drink is named for him, but I found it in Crosby Gaige’s Standard Cocktail Guide, 1944 edition, and as Mr. Gaige was a theatrical New Yorker, I think we can take it on fact that this is indeed named for Frank Morgan the actor. Also, since I am probably the only person to have made this cocktail (which is, by the way, a very good, balanced drink, that lets the rum shine heartily, while adding just enough herbal and nutty notes around the edges to elevate) since the middle of last century, I believe I can make the call. And also that I can add an orange twist to the original recipe without having to suffer Mr. Gaige’s disdain from the afterlife. If you have one, it’ll help, naturally. So, whatcha waiting for?

The Frank Morgan cocktail

The Frank Morgan

2-1/4 ounces Bacardi Gran Reserva Especial dark rum

3/4 ounces Williams & Humbert Dry Sack Medium sherry

Dash Angostura bitters

Thin orange twist, for garnish

1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add all but the twist. Stir well.

2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the twist. Sip. We’re off to the see the Wizard . . .

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October 17, 2023

Cocktail Talk: Barnaby Rudge, Part II

Barnaby Rudge

For our second Cocktail Talk from Dickens’ novel of family, riots, and ravens (among other things), we head to a gathering of prentices, as they say. Focusing mostly on one specific apprentice, the Captain of the group, a man of slight size but outsized self-importance, perhaps, and of finely-tuned calves, the swell named Mr. Tappertit. Not the villain of the book (I’d say there isn’t solely one), but not the nobelest of characters, no matter the below quote. Oh, be sure you read the Barnaby Rudge Cocktail Talk Part 1 to learn more about the book (and don’t miss the many other Dickens Cocktail Talks, either).

‘Sound, captain, sound!’ cried the blind man; ‘what does my noble captain drink–is it brandy, rum, usquebaugh? Is it soaked gunpowder, or blazing oil? Give it a name, heart of oak, and we’d get it for you, if it was wine from a bishop’s cellar, or melted gold from King George’s mint.’

‘See,’ said Mr. Tappertit haughtily, ‘that it’s something strong, and comes quick; and so long as you take care of that, you may bring it from the devil’s cellar, if you like.’

‘Boldly said, noble captain!’ rejoined the blind man. ‘Spoken like the ‘Prentices’ Glory. Ha, ha! From the devil’s cellar! A brave joke! The captain joketh. Ha, ha, ha!’

–Charles Dickens, Barnaby Rudge

October 13, 2023

What I’m Drinking: Shine Along the Shore

As October is fall in all ways here in the northwest of the US, it may seem strange, even foolhardy, to have a drink named after shining shores. Wouldn’t “grey and gloominess along the shore” have been more apt (I can hear you asking all the way from here)? Well, potentially, yes, but see, this is a drink I already know, and often during fall and winter I like to muse about spring and summer, not that I don’t appreciate the glories of each specific season, but if well-made drinks can’t transport us, then, well, they can, so no need to wonder about if they couldn’t. And, this particular drink, while having a sunshine-y name and a base of dark rum, sits comfortably in multiple temperate times, as that rum does have a kick, and the amaretto and sweet vermouth add some lingering layers of flavor, herbal, nutty, along with a little sweetness (to get you through the colder nights). All of which is why I’m drinking it today, and why you should, too.

Shine Along the Short, a drink with rum, amaretto, sweet vermouth

Shine Along the Shore

Cracked ice

1-1/2 ounces dark rum

1 ounce amaretto

1/2 ounce sweet vermouth

Wide orange twist, for garnish

1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add the rum, amaretto, and vermouth. Stir well.

2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Twist the twist over the glass and drop it in.

August 18, 2023

What I’m Drinking: The Hancock Sour

I’m sure you understand this: some days, you, or one, just wakes up in the morning thinking, “Today, I wanna make a drink from Jacques Straub’s recipe collection classic called, simply enough, Drinks (oh, you can get a Drinks reprint if you don’t happen to have it or want to pony up for an original)! Then, all the day long you think about it, unless you decide to have a breakfast drink, or a lunch drink. If so, good for you, champ! Still waiting on the invite. But if not, by the time HH (happy hour, natch) comes around, you have that little book (perfectly sized for dress shirt pockets, making it easy for bartenders to carry) out, and are turning until you come to The Hancock Sour, and then boom! Drink-making time.

But what bourbon? For me, this time, it’s Wood Family Spirits Columbia bourbon. Admittedly, a bottle recently came in the mail (don’t hate me! I do feel lucky about it), excitingly enough! If you don’t know, Wood Family Spirits is a distillery based in Hood River, Oregon. The family in the area traces back to pioneers in the middle 1800s, so they have lots of history in the PNW, and a desire to deliver well-made spirits here. In Columbia bourbon, they’re doing just that. Made in Tennessee using 80% corn, 10% barley, and 10% rye, it’s aged in brand new charred oak barrels (aging takes place in OR) and blended to “bottle in bond” strength. Which equals a robust 100 proof, that gives it a reassuring umph. It has a lovely aroma – caramel, spices (cinnamon, clove) – then a rich mouthfeel while you’re savoring the vanilla, caramel, sweetness mingling with the oakiness and highlighted by more of that cinnamon and clove and rye spicy goodness.

Wood Family Spirits Columbia bourbon’s full layered taste means it can be swigged solo happily, but also that it can stand up nicely in a drink like The Hancock Sour, one we’re bringing back from days of yore, and one that packs a decent amount of lime. In typical classic sour fashion, this might have had even more lime in the past (the recipe calls just for the juice of one lime), but 3/4s-of-an-ounce worked best for me. So, lime, sugar, bourbon, sounds like a regular sour, right? But there’s an intriguing twist – a hint of rum! That’s right, two spirits! The recipe doesn’t call out a specific rum, but I found a Diplomatico Reserva Exclusiva dark rum was perfect. Its complexity and sweetness added just enough hints to elevate this treat to another realm (if you haven’t had it, this rum delivers caramel, nuts, orange peel, vanilla, nutmeg, and allspice in a lovely combo). The other slightly sideways add to our sour is a splash of soda, which, funnily, helped everything come together without thinning it out. The original recipe said to garnish with “fruits of the season,” so I went strawberry, but I could see orange, cherries, even blackberries being nice and working with the lime.

One final note: I have no idea who Hancock is, or was, or if this drink even refers to a person. And, though in a way I wish I did, it doesn’t change one iota the deliciousness this sour delivers. Try it, and then next time remember to invite me to breakfast drinks!

The Hancock Sour
The Hancock Sour

The Hancock Sour

3/4 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice

1 barspoon sugar (or 1 teaspoon)

Ice cubes

1/4 ounce Diplomatica Reserva Exclusiva rum

2 ounces Wood Family Spirits Columbia bourbon

Squirt of cold seltzer (or a splash)

Strawberry or other season fruit for garnish.

1. Add the lime juice and sugar to a mixing glass. Stir well to dissolve the sugar.

2. Add a few ice cubes to said mixing device. Then add the rum and bourbon. Stir it all up.

3. Strain into an Old Fashioned or comparable glass. If you want to add ice to your glass, that’s cool, too. A couple cubes will do.

4. Top with just a splash of seltzer (or squirt if you have a neato seltzer dispenser). Garnish with your seasonal fruit.

May 26, 2023

What I’m Drinking: Summer’s Lease

While summer doesn’t officially start until, what, a month or thereabout from now, I’m always in my (very old) brain beginning to think “summer” in force on Memorial Day weekend, which is to say, right now! Summer only has a short “lease” (to bring us all together to the all together of this drink’s name), so I like to stretch it out longer than the calendar specifics. I’d say you can disagree, but, really, I doubt many would as it’s a fairly innocuous or unmemorable thought. This drink, however, is very memorable (if I may be so bold and not blush, as I created it), thanks to a double shot of rum – both white rum and the fancy Stiggins’ Fancy Pineapple rum, which is a delight to nature – a splash of herbally-but-approachably-awesome Montenegro amaro (most popular amaro in Italy by-the-way), pineapple juice (the juice epitome of summer), Scrappy’s Lime bitters (which if it would have been around during the first tiki wave, that wave would have never stopped), soda (for cooling and bubbly purposes), and fresh mint. It’s a treat all summer long, no matter how many days you want to celebrate the season.

Summer's Lease highball

Summer’s Lease

Ice cubes

1 ounce white rum

1/2 ounce Stiggins’ Fancy Pineapple rum

1/2 ounce Montenegro amaro

1-1/2 ounce pineapple juice

1 dash Scrappy’s Lime bitters

4 ounces chilled club soda

Fresh mint sprig, for garnish

1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with ice cubes. Add the rums, amaro, juice, and bitters. Shake well.

2. Fill a highball or comparable glass with ice cubes. Strain the mix from step 1 into the glass. Top with club soda. Stir, carefully (no need to spill). Garnish with the mint.

A Note: You could serve this over cracked ice, even crushed ice. Very summery, both. Though cubes do their part, too.

February 24, 2023

What I’m Drinking: Limbo

Every limbo boy and girl, all around the limbo world, gonna do the limbo rock, all around the limbo cocktail. That’s the song (Harry B will forgive me for slightly changing the lyrics, I hope) that one must sing when consuming this tropical-y cocktail, one which I hadn’t had in a long, long, long time, but which as I’m dreaming of travel and leaving the late winter mundanity behind, seemed ideal for today. It’s a fairly simple mix: big helping of rum to help with the dancing, papaya for beachyness, coconut milk to smooth things out and help with blending. Oh, and ice, as this is a blended number. Which also means it’s scaled for two, cause all blended drinks (which maybe get a bad overall rap in our modern snooty cocktail world, but which can be lots of fun yo) should be made for at least two, if not more. One note here: it could be my older sweet-tooth development, but maybe, just maybe, a spoon or two of Coco Lopez (a bit sweeter and thicker than coconut milk), or a splash or two of simple syrup, can be nice here. Give it a whirl. Or a blend! You’ll be singing, and sipping, Limbo lower now, Limbo lower now, how low can you go, soon!

limbo

Limbo

2 cups cracked ice

4 ounces dark rum

1 cup peeled and cubed papaya

1 cup coconut milk

1. Place all of the ingredients in a blender. Blend well.

2. Pour into two large, peppy goblets and serve to two folks who know how to limbo. And sing.

February 21, 2023

Cocktail Talk: Bleak House, Part I

Cover,_Bleak_House_(1852-3)Whoa. This is one of the weirder days in my history. I’ve just realized I’ve never had a Bleak House Cocktail Talk on Spiked Punch before. I mean, you’d think I’d know, right? I write the posts! But there have been many, many posts on here, too many, really, and lots of Dickens Cocktail Talks, and my memory (writing about drinks and all) isn’t as up to snuff as the snuffiest, and I just on some level in my mind took it for granted that I’d had at least one Bleak House Cocktail Talks, but never stopped to check, until today, as I’m rereading said book, and so did indeed double and triple check and, well, weirdly, I never have had a quote from Bleak House on here. Whoa. See, Bleak House may be my favoritest Dickens book of the whole lot of ‘em. Maybe. Hard to say, and I am as we all are different people in some small manner on different days. But it is an all-time classic of the written world, an immense treasure for anyone who likes reading, and if you don’t, well, then check out the BBC Bleak House mini-series, cause it is the absolute tops. Bleak-Freaking-House! Not the peppiest, but I’ve laughed lots when re-reading. Cried, too. Jarndyce and Jarndyce man, it’s a killer. I don’t feel I need to outline the book, cause it’s well-known enough, but I do feel I need to have multiple Cocktail Talks from it to make up for my missteps in not having any on here already. I’m going to start with a dinner recitation from a ‘Slap-Bang’ dining house, where three chaps have been dining out: Guppy (a somewhat central character, who it’s hard not feel for, though he’s a little silly with his slicked-down hair, and a little, not un-savory, but not someone completely trustworthy), who works in one of the central law firms, and his pals Mr. Jobling (less central, law stationer), and Mr. Smallweed (lower clerk in the same firm as Guppy, and grandson to one serious shaking villain).

Mr. Smallweed, compelling the attendance of the waitress with one hitch of his eyelash, instantly replies as follows: Four veals and hams is three, and four potatoes is three and four, and one summer cabbage is three and six, and three marrows is four and six, and six breads is five, and three Cheshires is five and three, and four pints of half-and-half is six and three, and four small rums is eight and three, and three Pollys is eight and six. Eight and six in half a sovereign, Polly, and eighteenpence out!

 Not at all excited by these stupendous calculations, Smallweed dismisses his friends with a cool nod, and remains behind to take a little admiring notice of Polly, as opportunity may serve, and to read the daily papers: which are so very large in proportion to himself, shorn of his hat, that when he holds up The Times to run his eye over the columns, he seems to have retired for the night, and to have disappeared under the bedclothes.

–Charles Dickens, Bleak House

February 7, 2023

Cocktail Talk: The Nicobar Bullion Case

arthur-morrisonThanks to the British Library Crime Classics collections (which I’ve Cocktail Talked from a few times), I’ve discovered a number of authors I didn’t know before, ones who were read more in the earlier parts of the last century, including Arthur Morrison. A mystery and crime writer (usually with stories featuring his detective Arthur Hewitt, said stories told by said detective’s neighbor, journalist Brett, in a Watson/Holmes-y way), as well as a more straight fiction writer and journalist and writer about Japanese art. I liked his stories read is those mystery anthologies, so picked up The Collected Arthur Morrison. I haven’t read everything in it, but have read I think all of the Hewitt stories, and they tend to be pretty swell, in the Holmes deductive reasoning vein, but a bit more of an everyman while doing it in a way. He was one of the few at the time (or anytime) to rival Holmes in popularity, too. Some stories in the collection are completely regrettable, but those are in the minority. Not a lot of Cocktail Talking in them, sadly, but there was one story, about a heaping helping of gold on a ship that foundered, which involved diving to check out the scene, and, via the diving, the introduction of a new drink to me.

 

“That’s the dress that Gullen usually has,” Merrick remarked. “He’s a very smart fellow; we usually send him first to make measurements and so on. An excellent man, but a bit too fond of the diver’s lotion.”

“What’s that?” asked Hewitt.

“Oh, you shall try some if you like, afterwards. It’s a bit too heavy for me; rum and gin mixed, I think.”

A red nightcap was placed on Martin Hewitt’s head, and after that a copper helmet, secured by a short turn in the segmental screw joint at the neck.

 

–Arthur Morrison, “The Nicobar Bullion Case”

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