You might think that I’m in error here, in my typing, or that I’ve gone off the rails into some other universe, or parallel time range, or some other high-brow theoretical bar or lounge where the Sazerac, one of the world’s most well-known and beloved drinks, has a different spelling. But, nope! This is a separate drink entirely, been around for a bit, though not so well-known, and not ordered much if at all. Which is a shame, as it’s fairly tasty, though containing a passel of ingredients: two base spirits (rye and rum), two bitters (Angostura and Orange, Scrappy’s Orange here), other items of note (anisette and absinthe to be specific). It’s probably that ingredient list which has scared off drinkers and drink makers, but they somehow go together. Perhaps not with that beautiful simplicity the Sazarac is known for (though they do share absinthe in their lists), but delivering a layered flavor that’s memorable in its own right. Give it a whirl – though don’t give up Sazaracs if you fall in love with this here drink. There’s room for both.
When I first posted this drink, many many moons ago, I talked about how it was a favorite of legendary legend Pliny the Elder (who wrote the Naturalis Historia and more). Well, maybe it wasn’t his favorite per se, but the name is inspired by him, and beyond any of my silliness, this is a lovely drink to have this time of year, whether you’re reading very very very old authors or not, due to its warming peppermint tea base, which is just the ticket for a chilly November morning. Or afternoon. Or evening! Especially when combined with Planteray’s Original Dark rum, which delivers notes of smoke, citrus, banana, and spice that play quite nicely with the tea, and with Averna amaro, whose herbally goodness also plays quite nicely. Pliny himself would be happy to sip it, and you will be, too.
I have a pal named Daisy. She’s not from Santa Cruz, but I still feel I should introduce her (and probably others, as it’s not what you’d call a well-known drink today) to this charming sipper, which I found when perusing the liquor book shelves and pulled out the pocket-sized The Standard Cocktail Guide: A Manual of Mixed Drinks Written for the American Host. Written by gadabout, bon vivant, and early cocktailian Crosby Gaige (author also of the Cocktail Guide and Ladies Companion, which is a bit more fun) and published in 1944. A dandy little read, so keep your eyes open for it. And full of good drinks. Browsing random old books is a jolly way to decide on a drink to have when you aren’t feeling 100% in any direction, as I was when first making this. I used mint – because I had a lot – instead of the traditional Daisy fruit topping, and used crushed instead of shaved ice, as the shaver was down (or non-existent). Still, a tasty drink, and one all Daisies – and most others – will probably dig sipping.
The Santa Cruz Daisy
2 ounces white rum
1/4 ounce maraschino
1/4 ounce simple syrup
Crushed ice
Fresh mint sprigs
Splash of soda water
1. Add the rum, maraschino, simple syrup to a mixing glass and stir well.
2. Crush a bunch of ice in your Lewis bag (see NOTE below).
3. Fill a goblet or comparable glass with ice, and strain the mix gently over it, topping with more ice as needed.
4. Add a splash of soda and garnish with mint sprigs.
A NOTE: If you don’t know (and I didn’t at one point) a Lewis bag is the traditional bag bartenders use to crush ice. If you can get one, the McSology Lewis bag is ideal, made in Seattle out of 100% cotton canvas. Put ice cubes in the bag, get out your muddler, and start crushing.
We are just two days until the calendar start of fall – not saying it’s not the actual start of fall either, but really, seasons aren’t meant to be started up and shut down like light-switches, and are as much perhaps a state of mind as much as anything. For me, on some level, fall hasn’t started properly until I’ve had a glass of this Steaming Spiked Cider, which traces back to a recipe had when I was young (sans booze, unless I snuck a glass from the parental pot). Does that mean the years I forgot and didn’t have this didn’t have a fall, going straight from summer to winter? Maybe? Maybe not, but there’s something about this apple (apples being the fruit of fall, naturally) and cinnamon and spice and rummy mix that screams (gently) of hayrack rides, barn dances, chillily pretty evenings, eventually Halloween and the surrounding happily haunted days, and if that wasn’t enough, I think it’d be swell for fall football afternoons (as is Football Punch, of course). So, it’s fall in a warm glass. Yummy fall. And, to be fair, it’s pretty good during winter, too. But that’s another season, and I don’t want to skip the days too rapidly.
Steaming Spiked Cider
4 quarts fresh apple cider
20 ounces cinnamon schnapps
16 ounces white rum
1 teaspoon whole cloves
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
10 cinnamon sticks
10 apple slices, for garnish
1. Add the cider to a large nonreactive saucepan. Heat over medium heat for 5 to 10 minutes
2. Add the cinnamon schnapps, rum, cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon sticks. Simmer for 15 minutes, but don’t let the mixture boil.
3. Once thoroughly warm, ladle the mixture into heatproof mugs, making sure that each mug gets a cinnamon stick. Garnish each with an apple slice.
A Note: Here are three thing that I believe are important when making this. 1. Be careful with the cloves when scaling (meaning, if you make a bigger batch, be careful as too many cloves can take over the flavor). 2. Use apple cider (which is good and cloudy) not apple juice. 3. Boiling boils off some of the alcohol. If getting mistakenly to a boil, or leaving the cider on the stove for an extended period, add more rum as needed. Cause you gotta stay warm on multiple levels.
A Second Note: This may be too much cinnamon for some. I see no problem, for balance, in upping the rum.
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?
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!’
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 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.
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!
