March 16, 2012
Much like Mr. Sponge himself, the Sporting Tour has lounged around the Spiked Punch couches and guest rooms and breakfast buffets for awhile (read the first Mr. Sponge Cocktail Talk post here for more background), but we need one or two more quotes to round out the experience. And the following, dear reader, are them:
He exclaimed in a most open-hearted air, ‘Well, now, what shall we have to drink?’ adding, ‘You smoke of course–shall it be gin, rum, or Hollands–Hollands, rum, or gin?’
‘O! Liquor them well, and send them home to their mammas,’ suggested Captain Bouncey, who was all for the drink. ‘But they won’t take their (hiccup),’ replied Sir Harry, holding up a Curaçao bottle to show how little had disappeared.’ ‘Try them with cherry brandy,’ suggested Captain Seedeybuck, adding ‘it’s sweeter.’
–Cocktail Talk, R.S. Surtees, Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour
Tags: cherry brandy, Cocktail Talk, curaçao, Gin, Hollands gin, Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour, R.S. Surtees, Rum
Posted in: Cocktail Talk, Gin, Liqueurs, Rum
February 8, 2012
There are some combinations that you just know, before you even start pouring and experimenting, will go together like the Hulk and green skin. By which I mean, perfectly. Dark rum and Rhum Clément Creole Shrubb are one of these pairings. This of course makes perfect sense, since the latter is made on a base partially of the former. But still, sometimes things don’t go as planned (like the Gamma bomb going off on poor old Doc Banner). However, I’m happy to report that in this case no one was turned into an over-sized misunderstood creature. Instead, the rum and the Rhum Clément Creole Shrubb mingle nicely, aided by an addition from another part of the globe, amaretto. Amaretto is, much like the Hulk, often misunderstood. Here, though, it shines with our two Caribbean pals. All of above leads to the fact that you shouldn’t drink this when angry (or drink anything really—who needs another angry drunk?), but drink it while watching the 1970s Incredible Hulk series, or reading the comics of the same character from the same era.
Cracked ice
2 ounces dark rum
1 ounce Rhum Clément Creole Shrubb
1 ounce amaretto
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add the rum, Creole Shrubb, and amaretto. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass.
A Note: I think cracked ice is crackingly good for stirring here, but if you have only ice cubes and don’t feel like cracking, they’ll work too.
PS: This recipe is from Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz. Which you should get, for gosh sakes.
Tags: amaretto, cocktail recipe, Cocktail Recipes, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, Rhum Clément Creole Shrubb, Rum, Three Wishes cocktail, What I'm Drinking
Posted in: Almost Drinkable Photo, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, Liqueurs, Recipes, Rum, What I'm Drinking
February 3, 2012
I’m going to skip the preamble for this post (you can catch that in Alexis Soyer Cocktail Talk I and Alexis Soyer Cocktail Talk II) and get right the quotes, which are again taken from the superb Soyer bio Relish by Ruth Cowen. These quotes are again showing why Soyer fits on a cocktail and drinks blog (even though he’d probably be more associated with the culinary arts as opposed to the cocktail arts. Though really, they go together so nicely). And the first one uses the phrase “oesophagus burners,” which is a phrase I’d like to see back in circulation.
Beneath this terrace, reached via a wooden staircase, was an American-style bar called The Washington Refreshment Room, which was to all intents and purposes the first cocktail bar in London. It provided thirsty customers with such daring modern concoctions as ‘flashes of lightning, tongue twisters, oesophagus burners, knockemdowns, squeezemtights . . . brandy pawnees, shadygaffs, mint juleps, hailstorms, Soyer’s Nectar cobblers, brandy smash, and hoc genus omne.’ More than forty cocktails were on offer, and among the candidates for the job of barmen, said Sala, was ‘an eccentric American genius, who declared himself perfectly capable of compounding four at a time, swallowing a flash of lightning, smoking a cigar, singing Yankee Doodle, washing up the glasses, and performing the overture to the Huguenots on the banjo simultaneously.
. . . the festivities almost came to a dramatic end when a paper lantern caught fire and the flames quickly spread across the roof–but a young officer hoisted himself up to the beams and managed to extinguish it. The band resumed, and Alexis produced his special punch–Crimean Cup à la Marmora–a lethal blend of iced Champagne, Cognac, Jamaican rum, maraschino, orgeat syrup, soda water, sugar, and lemons.
Tags: Alexis Soyer, Champagne, Cognac, Crimean Cup à la Marmora, punch, Relish, Rum
Posted in: Alexis Soyer, Champagne & Sparkling Wine, Cocktail Talk, Cognac, Punch, Rum
February 1, 2012
In our first Alexis Soyer Cocktail Talk post, I talked more about the celebrated (though not celebrated enough today) celebrity chef, bon vivant, and charitable Frenchman who lived in London in the mid-1800s. And about the worthy and needed biography of him by Ruth Cowen, called Relish, which I just read and liked lots. The following quotes are from said book, as are those in the other Soyer posts, in hopes that I can spread the Soyer legend around (as well as convince you to search out more about him). Here are more quotes to give you any idea of Soyer, starting with two about Soyer’s Nectar, a branded drink he came up with that was a bubbly-lemon-cinnamon mix that happened to be blue–he was a bit colorful, after all.
He did not have to wait long for yet another bundle of ecstatic reviews. On 13 July The Sun declared: ‘It beats all the lemonade, orangeade, citronade, soda-water, sherry-cobbler, sherbet, Carrara-water, Seltzer, or Vichy-water we ever tasted.” The Globe dubbed Soyer the ‘Emperor of the Kitchen,’ and duly recommended the addition of a tot of rum.
The Nectar was particularly popular as a mixer, and Alexis, who with some justification could be called the pioneer of the English cocktail, published a variety of recipes for ‘Nectar Cobblers’ and other glamorous boozy compounds.
Cowen’s Soyer biography is packed with descriptions of the almost impossible to believe dinners he made, sometimes for groups by the hundreds and thousands. Whenever, going forward, I hear people talk about their decandent dinners, I’ll laugh and point them to Relish. The following quote is part of one of the more restrained meals in the book, one Soyer created for the Grand Dinner of the Royal Agricultural Society festival:
The bill of fare included–on top of a whole Baron and Saddleback of Beef à la Magna Charta–33 dishes of ribs of beef, 35 dishes of roast lamb, 99 galantines of veal, 29 dishes of ham, 69 dishes of pressed beef, two rounds of beef à la Garrick, 264 dishes of chicken, 33 raised French pies à la Soyer, 198 dishes of mayonnaise salad, 264 fruit tarts, and 198 dishes of hot potatoes. It also included 33 Exeter puddings, which Soyer had invented especially for the occasion. There were essentially an alcohol-steeped reworking of his boiled Plum Bolster, for which, in The Modern Housewife, he had applied the alternative name of ‘Spotted Dick’ for the first time in an English cookbook. They were big, rich, doughy balls of suet and sugar, to which Alexis added rum and ratafias and then smothered with a sweet, shining blackcurrant and sherry sauce.
October 15, 2011
They said it couldn’t be done! They said that dark rum, Fernet-Branca, apricot liqueur, and lime couldn’t be mixed together! They said that Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz couldn’t contain a drink that contains said ingredients, and they said it couldn’t be delicious, herbal, and tangy all at once! They said that a drink named after a whip and a world-beater (or, conqueror) couldn’t be made, that the good people of this here earth I stand on wouldn’t sip it up like the nectar of the gods! They said that it wouldn’t be an ideal mixture for Fall’s cold days, and that it wouldn’t slide the chill right off like a loose negligee! They said, they said, they said. Who is they (you might say)? Well, I’m not 100% sure. But they’re bad people. Unlike you and I. Both of whom (I sure hope) love this drink.
Ice cubes
1 -1/2 ounces dark rum
1 ounce Fernet-Branca
1/2 ounce apricot liqueur
1/4 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice
Lime twist, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the rum, Fernet-Branca, apricot liqueur, and lime juice. Shake in a whip-cracking motion.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass, and garnish with the lime whip. Oh, I mean twist.
Tags: apricot liqueur, cocktail recipe, Cocktail Recipes, Fernet Branca, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, Rum, What I'm Drinking
Posted in: Almost Drinkable Photo, Fernet Branca, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, Liqueurs, Recipes, Rum, What I'm Drinking
October 10, 2011
I don’t know too many kids who grew up when I did (in the 1980s, that is) who don’t have at least a little soft spot in their heart for the movie Fletch, starring Chevy Chase. And those that won’t admit it probably are all about pretending they’re a 10 years-younger-than-they-really-are hipster. Well, phooey on them. I’m not saying Fletch necessarily has aged all that well, but heck, I still get some laughs out of it. What I didn’t know back then, but know now, is that Fletch was actually in a pretty lengthy series of books by Gregory McDonald. I recently picked one up, for nostalgia and Chevy’s sake, and the book was all right—not great, a little aged, but okay. It did have one standout quote, though, which is below, and which mentions a “rum toff.” Anyone out there know what’s in a rum toff? C’mon, bar geniuses, let me know. I wanna have one, and toast Fletch and the 80s and say things like “You using the whole fist, Doc?”
‘You were in the motel bar last night?’
‘Yes. Drinking rum toffs.’
‘What’s a rum toff?’
‘Yummy.’
—Fletch and the Man Who, Gregory McDonald
June 9, 2011
Farmer’s is not, sadly, a new Seattle hotspot serving Fish House Punch (that classic punch from Philly via the Schuylkill Fishing Company sometime in the 1700s). It is, however, my pal Shane Farmer’s house, where he recently when punch crazy for his house-warming/birthday bash, purchasing two punch bowls (yes, I said two) for the occasion so he could serve not only this mix but the delightful Don’t Just Stand There (a recipe for which can be found in Good Spirits). Now that, friends, is a fella that knows how to throw a party. If you ever run into him at the bar (any bar, that is) I’d go about picking his brain for party tips (not literally “picking his brain” by the way, if there were any mad scientists thinking they’d actually pry open his skull for said tips. Just ask him why dontcha?). This recipe’s from Dark Spirits, by the way. And this photo was taken at the actual referenced Shane Farmer party above, by the way:
Serves 10
Block of ice (or cracked ice, if necessary)
1 750-milliliter bottle dark rum
15 ounces Cognac
7-1/2 ounces peach brandy
7-1/2 ounces freshly-squeezed lemon juice
7-1/2 ounces Simple Syrup
1. Add the ice to a punch bowl (fill about three quarters full if using cracked ice, and feel free to crack the block a bit if needed). Add the rum, cognac, brandy, juice, and syrup. Stir 10 times, while humming fishy songs or hymns to Pennsylvania.
2. Stir 10 more times. Serve in punch cups or wine glasses.
Tags: cocktail recipe, Cocktail Recipes, Cognac, Dark Spirits, Fish House Punch, Recipes, Rum, What I'm Drinking
Posted in: Almost Drinkable Photo, Cognac, Dark Spirits, Punch, Recipes, Rum
May 16, 2011
First, an apology for the lack of posting. Moving back to Seattle from the I-tal has been a process, and has left me with little umph for blogging. Or, after reading (re-reading really, as I’ve read it at least once, and probably twice, before) Graham Greene’s somewhat funny/somewhat serious Cuban spy-and-not novel Our Man in Havana, I’ve been too inclined to have a daiquiri at noon for blogging. I like that take on things much better, so let’s go with that excuse, and start a rumor of me being a two-daiquiris-at-noon fella. Heck, maybe I’ll even inspire you to start. If I don’t, hopefully this quote does (or starts you collecting miniature bottles of whiskies):
‘Eighteen different kinds of scotch,’ the stranger said, ‘including Black Label. And I haven’t counted the Bourbons. It’s a wonderful sight. Wonderful,’ he repeated, lowering his voice with respect. ‘Have you ever seen so many whiskies?’
‘As a matter of fact I have. I collect miniatures and I have ninety-nice at home.’
‘Interesting. And what’s your choice today? A dimpled Haig?’
‘Thanks, I’ve just ordered a daiquiri.’
‘Can’t take those things. They relax me.’
—Our Man in Havana, Graham Greene
