The Institute for Alcoholic Experimentation

Harry Craddock's Leap Year Cocktail

2012-02-29T07:18:00.000-08:00

It's not that often that a drink has a definitive origin let alone a birthday but that is not the case for the Leap Year Cocktail as this was created by Harry Craddock on 29th February 1928.

Leap Year Cocktail Recipe

40ml Gin
10ml Italian Vermouth
10ml Grand Marnier
1 Dash of Lemon Juice
SHAKE and garnish with a twist of lemon

The Taste
A clean and quite crisp cocktail with a slight confectionery element reminiscent of fruit jellies. It a bit like a citrus Martinez in some respects although the Italian Vermouth is dialled down so it is not as herbally complex but, consequentially, it is more bright and vibrant.

A leap into the unknown

2012-02-28T07:10:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is 29th February, a rare phenomenon that winks into being only in a leap year, once every four years—and is the only day, traditionally, when a woman can ask a man to marry her. (Clearly these rules were drawn up by men.)

In honour of this Brigadoon-like occurrence, those crazy coves at Master of Malt have added a new concoction to their range of premixed, bottled cocktails. This libation, which will only be for sale for one day, 29th February 2012, is known for now simply as the Secret Leap Year Cocktail. And indeed its recipe is a secret, apparently known only to one person.

The drink will be on sale in 20cl bottles, priced at £14.95 and, as a competition, you are invited to see if you can work out what the five ingredients are. (Note that the finished blend weighs in at a hefty 44.2% ABV, so it would seem to be all spirits and bitters.) To take part you will have to buy one of these diminutive flasks tomorrow, sip and ponder, then send your answer to leapyear@masterofmalt.com before the closing date of Friday 16th 2012. The winner will have the honour of naming the production version of this cocktail when it is released in a full-sized 70cl bottle later in the year, and you’ll also receive a set of 20cl bottles of each of the cocktails in the current range: Manhattan, Martini, Old Fashioned, Negroni, Rob Roy, “The World’s Best Cocktail” (i.e. a Sazerac, but they’re not allowed to call it that) and the brand new Martinez.

More details at the Master of Malt website.

Pash-ion For Vodka #11 - Smirnoff No:24 Citrus Twist (Orange, Lime & Grapefruit)

2012-02-21T02:06:00.001-08:00

I've previously written about Smirnoff's flavoured range, in particular the Black 'n' Blue Vodka. This is another variant based on recipe no. 24 and is flavoured with orange, lime and grapefruit (also known as Citrus Twist).

Own
Nose: Fresh, tart and zesty citrus peel, lemon, grapefruit and orange.
Taste: Smooth with some warmth at the end. Tangy, zesty grapefruit is quite prominent followed by some orange and, to a lesser extent, lime.

Frozen
Quite viscous—the vodka was close to freezing over. The Grapefruit zest completely dominates the flavour to the extent that it risks overpowering the vodka.

Martini
Clean crisp and smooth with very toned-down citrus (grapefruit then orange and lime). In a Martini, this by far the best citrus vodka I have tried.

When a vodka decides to make a flavoured version, lemon or citrus is often the first they turn too—with Absolut, Grey Goose, Belvedere and Ketel One all making a variety. I must say this is certainly one of the more interesting and more genuine (i.e. it does not taste so artificial) and thus is worth seeking out. On its own it may be a bit much but it will add a thing to a vodka cocktail.

For more Vodka Articles click here.

What to drink with chocolate?

2012-02-13T17:02:00.001-08:00

With Valentine’s Day upon us there will be consignments of Champagne and chocolate changing hands hopefully across the land. But from a gastronomic point of view, Champagne and chocolate tend to make a pretty awful combination. In fact chocolate is notoriously difficult to match with beverages. So I was interested to go to a seminar at last year’s Distil show precisely on partnering Italian wines with a range of high-end Italian chocolates.

It was a lovingly assembled display, showcasing the variety of both, but for me there were two stand-out wines, which seemed to sit well with a variety of chocs: one was the oddly named Ben Rye’ Passito di Pantelleria DOC 2008 from Donnafugata, a deep yet fresh sweet wine, made from sun-dried Zibibbo grapes on the Sicillian island of Pantelleria. It has an astonishing apricot nose but there are also chocolate notes in its depths. The palate is full of raisins.

The other revelation was Cocchi’s Barolo Chinato, a wine that has been infused with quinine from Calissaja cinchona bark, plus an array of herbs and spices, including rhubarb root, ginger, star anise, citrus peel, gentian, fennel, juniper and cardamom seed. This is an interesting concept because most vermouths, even red ones, are based on white wine: here is one based on the noble Barolo grape. The concoction apparently dates back to 1891, when Tuscan pastry chef Giulio Cocchi came to the Asti region and was inspired by the local vermouth industry to create his own.* The formula for Cocchi’s version is complex—there is a handwritten copy in a bank vault—and allegedly marries the Piemontese vermouth tradition with that of the herbal infusions of Tuscan monasteries. So popular was it that by the 1920s Cocchi had a chain of Barolo Chinato bars across Italy and beyond; yet by the 1960s it had fallen out of fashion and the company, which also makes Asti Spumante, was bought by the Bava Winery in 1977.

Roberto Bava, who also happens to be the president of the Italian Chocolate Association, is apparently the one who first discovered Barolo Chinato’s perfect match with chocolate, and word has now spread across Italy. The wine has a bitter-sweet profile, with gentian to the fore, and an amazingly profound sweet/dry palate that is like wandering through an ancestral spice repository. There is something about these bitter aromatic notes that does indeed remind you of dark chocolate.

By chance I was later at a tasting of Lagavulin 16-year-old single malt whisky at 69 Colebrook Row and a pairing with chocolate was also suggested. So I decided to round up some other likely candidates and have a tasting. The chocolate we used was nothing too obscure or rarefied: we started with some humble Cadbury’s Dairy Milk, included a couple of filled ones from Gü (liquid caramel and praline) and then some majestic Venezuelan 72% dark chocolate from Willie’s World Class Cacao in Devon. I later added three from Lindt: their A Touch of Vanilla white chocolate, dark chocolate with A Touch of Sea Salt and dark chocolate with caramel.**

If you search online for wine suggestions for chocolate you’ll come up with pretty much every type—even Champagne—which I guess goes to show how much variety there is in the world of chocolate. Red wine is often cited so we chose a modest Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon from Isla Negra, plus a rosé version of the same. Then I added some port (William Pickering port from Berry Bros & Rudd, which is actually a tawny), which has always struck me as a reasonable match in the past, some Cocchi Americano, another quinated wine from Cocchi, white this time, plus, as an afterthought, some rum, both bog-standard Captain Morgan and some Flor de Cana 7-year-old from Nicaragua

Cadbury’s Dairy Milk
The Isla Negra rosé went surprisingly well—not a match made in heaven but it didn’t quarrel, which must be due to the relatively sweet, fruity nature of rosé as a rule. By contrast the red wine was rather foul: somehow the combination of the particular fruit of the wine and the chocolate reminded me of a urinal. The Cocchi Americano didn’t work, as the chocolate is not bitter enough to balance the quinine. Moving on to rum, the Captain Morgan wasn’t quite there, but then it’s not a very good rum, with the distinct sourness of poor quality spirit. The Flor de Cana made much more sense. It always strikes me as quite a sweet rum, but here that vanishes leaving a fairly balanced combo, with the burnt sugar quality harmonising with the malty toasted milk powder of the chocolate. With the port the sweetness match is pretty much right there. Quite successful, I think, with each side retaining its character and not being skewed. The milk choc’s toasty qualities are able to shine. With the Ben Rye’, however, while the sweetness balance is OK, the wine somehow makes the chocolate seem coarse. The Barolo Chinato, like the Americano, found that the chocolate was too sweet to make a good match, though it isn’t too bad either, even if it again shows up the poor quality of the chocolate. There is definitely something chocolate-friendly about this wine. Lagavulin: hopeless—not sweet at all, so it seems harsh with the sweet chocolate, but also its strong malty, smoky, iodine high notes clash horribly.
Top match: Flor de Cana rum, though the Chinato does come across as capable

Venezuela 72%
This chocolate is hard, dark, bitter and smoky, with a hint of coffee. The table wines were no good at all, the cabernet sauvignon tasting cheaper and nastier than it really is. Again the Captain Morgan is made to seem the poor quality rum that it is, but the Flor de Cana again works quite well, with the rum’s burnt sugar qualities sitting well with the dry smokiness of the chocolate. The rum is dried out but what’s left balances well. But this serious chocolate made the port seem sugary and little else, and likewise the Ben Rye’ came across as too juicy and sweet, making the chocolate seem somehow cheesy. The Lagavulin should work but doesn’t really: again the iodine quality turns into something unnerving. This, on the other hand, is where the Chinato really comes into its own. The bitterness stands up well and the aromatic rootiness balances excellently with the earthy smoke of the chocolate.
Top match: Barolo Chinato, with Flor de Cana perfectly workable too

Gü Chocolate Praline Truffles
These are sweet, creamy and nutty. I thought the Flor de Cana worked quite well but Mrs H. was less convinced. I also thought the port balanced pretty competently, though again Mrs H. thinks it’s not greater than the sum of its parts. I’m not convinced about the Ben Rye’, with the light fruitiness of the wine seeming exaggerated. Not a disaster but I don’t think it flatters the chocolate. I was a bit surprised by this, as at the original Italian presentation I made a note that this wine went well with hazelnuts—we tried it with Guido Gobino’s Maximo. The Barolo Chinato makes another good combo. The gooey sweetness of the chocolate emphasizes the bitterness of the wine, yet somehow it still works. Not really convinced about the Lagavulin; it’s not too bad but still those iodine flavours of the whisky mutate into something disturbingly off-putting.
Top match: Nothing shines but the Chinato still stands tall and the rum and port are competent

Gü Liquid Caramel Chocs
These have a gooey caramel centre with a little sea salt added. They seemed particularly sweet. I felt the port again emerged as still a pretty good all-rounder; likewise the Flor de Cana, though for some reason the sweetness of the chocolate doesn’t sit so happily this time. The Ben Rye’ is also dried out. Even the Chinato struggled though was still competent. The Lagavulin, however, decided to come into its own at the point. Even though the sweetness levels are so different, this is the best pairing yet with the whisky. Clearly the nuttiness and the burnt-sugar caramel works well with the smoky, peaty iodine, and perhaps the sea salt is a natural pairing too. With a less sickly salted caramel this could be a really eye-opening combo.
Top match: Lagavulin 16-year-old

Lindt A Touch of Vanilla
I felt that this would be the one most likely to go with the Ben Rye’ and it was, though not quite as well as I’d hoped—the wine is still nicer on its own. But both parties stand up for themselves and they do spotlight aspects of flavour in each other. Port clashes nastily, evoking an off flavour in the booze. Rum was not at its best either this time. The Barolo Chinato was not an obvious choice but again it worked pretty well; its bitterness was pronounced against the creamy vanilla of the chocolate, but a nice cinnamon note was conjured from the wine. But still not really a “match”. I even tried Adnams’ North Cove Oak Aged Vodka, to see if the vanilla wood notes would work; it’s quite an interesting combination, but the vodka is a bit too dry and fierce (it’s 50% ABV) and sucks the life from the chocolate. And the Lagavulin ends up tasting of cheese.
Top match: Ben Rye’

Lindt A Touch of Sea Salt
The salt isn’t a massive presence in this product. And the dark chocolate is only 47% cocoa solids, so it’s still quite sweet. It works remarkably well with the Ben Rye’, perhaps because the sweetness levels are about the same. But not really an ideal fit. Port again sits comfortably alongside and the rum is nice too, its relative dryness coming across as refreshing rather than clashing. The Barolo Chinato was also back in its element—I think that dark chocolate has a sort of “powdery” dryness that sits so well with the dry spice and quinine of the wine. But this is also another chocolate where the Lagavulin comes into its own again, perhaps with its savouriness picking up on the salt and its pungency standing up to the cocoa character of this darker chocolate.
Top match: Probably has to go to the Barolo Chinato, though Lagavulin is certainly worth a try

Lindt Dark Chocolate with Caramel
Unexpectedly crunchy: the “crispy caramel pieces” are reminiscent of Crunchie bars. The port doesn’t work at all, coming across as strangely astringent. Once again the Ben Rye’ is really only lessened in combination. The rum is rather tasty, its sugar heritage coming across alongside the caramel. The Barolo is pretty much always in command in the presence of chocolate, but I don’t think this is the best match. I’d hoped that the Lagavulin would shine here, but it was not really to be.
Top match: Flor de Cana rum

Overall I was surprised that the Ben Rye’ didn’t do better, but perhaps it has to be matched carefully. Not that Mrs H. cared—she liked the wine so much she’d happily drink that and forget about the chocolates, which coming from her is quite something. I’d still recommend this wine but perhaps drink it on its own.

The Barolo Chinato, on the other hand, showed itself to be a good chocolate all-rounder, though working best with quality dark stuff. Likewise I think that if you want something to sip with chocs that at least won’t clash then it seems a ruby port or a decent sweetish rum will always work.

The Lagavulin was a leftfield contender. I also had some filled chocs that actually contained the stuff, along with liquorice, and that worked fine—in fact just thinking about it you can imagine how liquorice’s warm yet strident force should lock horns fairly evenly with Islay malt’s briny, peaty, iodine presence. So perhaps it needs extreme flavours like that. Planning a quiet night, munching liquorice allsorts? Get the Lagavulin in.

Finally, while preparing this test I came across The Chocolate Shop, describing itself as “The Chocolate Lover’s Wine”. But rather than partnering with chocolate, it actually has the stuff blended in it, along with a quantity of sugar. It does pretty much what it says on the tin, an ordinary dry red wine with added strong cocoa-powder flavours on the nose and palate, along with an element of black cherry (though it says it just has “natural chocolate flavouring” and sugar added). It’s not actually that sweet—and yet somehow manages to be a bit sickly. Although it doesn’t make me gag, I wouldn’t want to drink very much of it. Perhaps I’m just not used to having cocoa in my wine. I don’t know what to do with the rest of the bottle, though my sister made a good suggestion: reduce it and make a sauce for venison. Perhaps with a touch of chilli…

* Note that the invention is also attributed to Giuseppe Cappelano.
** The caramel chocolate I had to go out and buy again, as the original bar I purchased disappeared into Mrs H. within 24 hours, before I had a chance to conduct my tasting…

Rum Cocktails To Go

2012-02-05T05:02:00.000-08:00

At a recent Soireé in Parliament Square, I received a tip from a notable rum expert. The tip was regarding the best premix that they had tried, Bacardi's Mojito. I noticed they were on sale for about £12 in Tesco for 70cl, but considering this a bit steep for experimentation purposes, I was pleased to see that the Bacardi Mojito and the Cuba Libre are now available in single serve bottles for a bargainous £2 a time.

Mojito 5.4%
A mix of Rum, Mint, Lime and Sugar
This had a good balance of flavour: mint, lime and a touch of sweetness. It wasn't too fizzy and you can't really taste the rum. With a bit of ice, it is quite refreshing and would probably be quite nice at a BBQ. Good value for money.

Cuba Libre 5%
A mix of Rum, cola and Lime
Quite good, with a good, crisp lime flavour, albeit maybe a tad sweet. This tastes like a Cuba Libra made with Rose's Lime Cordial. There's a touch of spice from the rum, which makes it more complex than the Mojito, made with white rum. Overall, quite good and certainly worth £2.

In Conclusion
On my quest for tasty premixed drinks, I think I've tried at least 30 varieties and both of these are certainly in the top 10.

Don't cry for me: Argentine cocktails, anyone?

2012-01-30T08:48:00.000-08:00

Tato with a clericot that he has just made me

I don’t normally do bar reviews as such, but an invitation to a new watering hole in South Kensington piqued my curiosity recently—the Gaucho restaurant chain have opened Galante, a cocktail bar on Sloane Avenue inspired by the golden age of Argentine cocktails. No, I didn’t know that Argentina had a golden cocktail age either, but it seems that when US bartenders were fleeing Prohibition some settled in Buenos Aires, just as others landed in London, Paris or Havana, and brought with them a cocktail tradition. Argentina at that time had the world’s sixth largest economy so it was not surprising that Buenos Aires found a stylish international cocktail set to make drinks for—perhaps in the same way that Shanghai became such an exotic melting pot precisely because of all the terrible things going on elsewhere that people seemed to be fleeing, such as Nazism, Bolshevism or indeed Prohibition.

The most famous South American bartender of this era was Santiago Policastro, known as “Pichin” or, because of his dashing personal style, “El Barman Galante”. It is he that the bar is named after and the menu features a number of his classic cocktails from the period 1935 to 1955 (at which point Peron was overthrown by a military coup and Pichin left, spending time in Colombia before ending up in Miami where he died only three years ago). I’m a sucker for anything from this period, and the promise of an “Art Deco inspired” interior was too much to resist.

Santiago Policastro, known as “Pichin”

The cocktail menu at Galante is divided into sections: first come Pichin’s own classics, adapted from recipes he published in his 1955 book Tragos Mágicos (Magical Drinks), followed by a section exploring the various European influences as expats came to Argentina and exposed bartenders to new spirits, liqueurs and fortified wines. Next is a section showcasing hep new drinks created by four top barmen operating in Buenos Aires today and featuring distinctive local ingredients such as Hesperidina, a classic Argentine aperitif with a minty orange flavour, and Legui, a rum-based liqueur. Finally comes a section of “future classics” all created by Renato “Tato” Giovanni, who in 2010 was voted South American Bartender of the Decade. Which is quite something. Tato has been helping launch Galante and he was there on the night manning the shaker. A modest, fascinating chap, he helpfully filled us in on some of the idiosyncrasies of Argentine drinking, such as the yerba maté tea that everyone stands around sipping. It comes in large, loose leaves and is drunk through a metal straw called a bombilla that sieves out the bits. Not only does the tea feature in a number of the Galante recipes but many of the cocktails are served with bombillas—see the photos. I thought it was a cigarette holder at first!

An El Pato, with toothsome nibbles in the background

I kicked off with El Pato, Pichin’s signature drink and named after the Argentine national sport. A mixture of gin, sweet and dry vermouths, Campari, Cointreau and kirsch, served over ice, it is subtle and dry, with a characteristic bitterness from the Campari. In fact the combination of Campari with sweeter elements makes it taste more like Aperol, and the colour is an Aperol shade of orange too. Mrs H. went for another period classic, the Calipso, merging pineapple, grapefruit and raspberry juices with white rum and maraschino. Again this was a subtle combination, a clever interplay of fruit flavours and not sweet, sticky or bubblegummy. I followed with a clericot (an Argentine fruit cup) from the modern end of the menu, in this case a blend of gin, bianco vermouth and mandarin juice (see recipe at the end) garnished with cucumber, mandarin and a sprig of eucalyptus; again this was a restrained and balanced drink, its fruitiness more in keeping with the dry subtlety of classic cocktails than the 1980s “tutti frutti” approach. Mrs H. chose the Torta Galesa (Welsh Cake), made from rum spiced with vanilla, nutmeg and cinnamon, shaken with demerara sugar and an egg yolk, a reference to a dish eaten by the Welsh immigrants to Argentina’s Chubut Province. Tato crossed two bombillas over the glass before sprinkling cinnamon, creating a pattern that made it look like a hot cross bun…

Among all the local ingredients in use (they even make a cobbler using Argentine cider) you might expect there would be some local gin—in fact DBS, whose dream is to taste gin from every country in the world, had specifically tasked me to ask about Argentine gin—but Tato told me there were no quality ones. He is in the process of creating his own, which will include among the botanicals yerba maté tea, eucalyptus, local grapefruit from the Mesopotamia region and the aromatic herb peperina, which is also used to make a bitters at Galante. The gin doesn't have a name yet but it should be ready mid- or late 2012 and will then appear at Galante and Gaucho outlets. Perhaps rather rashly, Tato even offered to fly me to Argentina to taste his gin when it was ready!

A Calipso, another Pichin classic from the 1930s

As for the décor, well, perhaps it is Art Deco “inspired”, but don’t expect to step into the set of a 1920s musical. Black and silver predominate and the walls are covered in beveled panels of mirror, which segue cleverly into the windows and make the place seem much bigger than it really is. There is lots of heavy glass, and some of the light fittings do look quite Deco while others look more 1980s. Staff wear black ties and white bartender’s jackets of the period, of which I obviously approve. If you’re peckish try the canapés—they are exquisite.

Overall I can’t recommend Galante highly enough as a chance to try an Argentine take on mixology, with a very classic sensibility, subtly complex, restrained and with a tendency towards a refreshing bitter edge. One cocktail, the Clarito, is essentially a dry Martini served with a sugar rim and was famously created by Pichin for a customer who wanted “a man’s drink that is slightly sweet”. While this might seem to buck the trend I think it is the exception that proves the rule—the very fact that the request was phrased the way it was perhaps tells you a lot about prevailing tastes in Buenos Aires at the time. If you want a man’s drink, albeit an urbane, “galante” man’s drink—hell, the sort of cóctel Humphrey Bogart might drink—give Galante a try.

Recoleta Clericot
1½ shots Tanqueray gin
½ shot vermouth bianco
½ shot mandarin juice
2 slices cucumber
Dash eucalyptus syrup
Dash tonic water

Shake all ingredients together except the tonic, strain into a large wine glass filled with ice and top with tonic water. Garnish with a mandarin wedge, slice of cucumber and some eucalyptus leaves. Tato doesn't specify the tonic but elsewhere in the cocktail menu is a reference to the excellent 1724, which would make sense, given that it is made in Argentina. As mentioned in a previous post, 1724 has a fresh, clean taste characterised by quinine bitterness and citric tartness, with less of the cloying sweetness of typical UK tonics—which matches with the general flavour profile I got from the cocktails I tried at Galante.

Galante, 87 Sloane Avenue, London SW3 3DX, 020 7589 4256, www.bargalante.com

Pash-ion For Vodka #10 - Smirnoff No:16 Black 'N' Blue (Russian Berry Flavours)

2012-01-28T11:11:00.000-08:00

I was recently rooting in the back of the vaults at the institute when I found a box labelled "Pimm's". In fact it contained a variety of unusual vodkas including this one by Smirnoff.

Smirnoff Black 'n' Blue dates from the early 2000s and was replaced in 2005 by Smirnoff Norsk (later relabelled North/Nordic Berries) this latter vodka is tinted blue and has a dry, less fruity profile compared to this variety.

Black 'N' Blue was part of a range of flavoured vodka which included Chilli, Mixed Citrus and Spiced Vanilla. The label describes it a recipe No:16 and is bottled at 37.5%ABV.

So what does it taste like?

Own

Berry nose, like chewy Ribena Multivitamins. A hint of marzipan too. Not too smooth in terms of taste with some unpleasant muskiness that I can't quite put my finger on.

Frozen (from the freezer)

Berry (blackberry and raspberry) on the nose slightly reminiscent of cough sweets. strong and complex.

In terms of flavour berry and vanilla comes through but I think overall it is a bit harsh, even though it is ice cold. A bit of anise too but it could be fresher and it is a bit artificial. Average.

Martini

Very pleasant, flavours of berry and cream. Good flavour and a nice crispness. Quite smooth too.

Whilst I'd rather drink Smirnoff Black, blue or the old Penka as flavoured vodkas go, this better than average but it needs to be mixed.

For more Vodka Articles click here.

Cocktails to defeat your New Year's Resolutions

2012-01-27T07:14:00.000-08:00

The third week in January is apparently the most depressing of the year (and the Monday of the last full week is the most depressing day*), so it seemed appropriate that we theme the Candlelight Club event last weekend around New Year’s resolutions—specifically the abandoning of them! The cocktails were loosely styled around things you might have been trying to give up, and a general encouragement to slip back into your old hedonistic ways. Hey, we’re here to help.

No.1 on the resolution list must be to quit smoking. Tobacco in drinks is a hot topic at the moment, and plenty of people have doubtless tried making their own infusions. But proceed with caution! Ted Breaux of Jade Liqueurs (an environmental scientist by background) and infusion-meister Tony Conigliaro of 69 Colebrooke Row have both warned about the dangers here. I believe that soaking tobacco products in alcohol actually extracts harmful substances much more efficiently that burning them does, meaning that infusing tobacco is potentially more harmful than smoking it. And gram for gram nicotine is as toxic as hydrogen cyanide. I was in a bar last week and the bar manager handed me something to taste: it was a tobacco syrup made by infusing a cigar. “Don’t worry,” he said, “cigars have hardly any nicotine in them compared to cigarettes.” This didn’t ring true, and in fact a cursory trawl of the internet reveals that a good-sized cigar can contain as much nicotine as an entire pack of cigarettes. Tasting the syrup nearly knocked me off my barstool: at first it is just sweet on the tip of the tongue, but then it hits the back of the tongue with a prickling, burning sensation. I swear I got a small nicotine rush, but then I’m not a smoker, so it probably doesn’t take much. (See this interesting post.)

So using a tobacco infusion in our cocktail was out. But Ted Breaux himself makes a liqueur from perique tobacco, a rare strain that only grows in Louisiana (cultivated on just two farms now). Ted is a New Orleans man and proud of it, and his motivation in making the liqueur is partly to save the plant from extinction. The drink is distilled in such a way that there is no nicotine or other harmful substances in it, and in fact it doesn’t really taste obviously of tobacco. It has a delicate flavour that always reminds me of violets, with just a subtle whiff of aromatic pipe tobacco at the end (perique still crops up in pipe blends as well as a few rare-groove cigars and cigarettes). So it immediately occurred to me to make an Aviation using this instead of crème de violette. Speaking to Jenny from Sipormix, which handles the liqueur in this country, I discovered that Ales Olasz of Montgomery Place had already tried this, so I used his recipe (although I think I prefer it with more like 20ml of Perique rather than the 15ml specified).

NiQuitini
50ml SW4 gin
15–20ml Jade Perique Tobacco Liqueur
10ml maraschino
20ml lemon juice

Shake all ingredients with ice and strain into a Martini glass or coupe. Garnish with a cherry.

A NiQuitini snapped at the Candlelight Club

Dieting has to be up there on the resolution roll of honour, so we decided to include an Alexander—what could be more apt than a combination of gin, cream and chocolate? When I wrote about this cocktail before I decided that two parts gin to one part each of the other ingredients was about right, but this time I was using white crème de cacao rather than brown (specifically Briottet’s version). This is a much subtler flavour so I biased the cocktail more towards this ingredient. I also found that it needed sweetness, so some syrup was in order. The end result is pure, opaque white: originally intended as a marketing gimmick for a railway that burned cleaner coal, here it can remind you or the purity of your original intentions for 2012, now sadly fallen by the wayside…

The Alexander Diet
1½ shots gin
1½ shots crème de cacao blanc
1 shot single cream
Splash of sugar syrup

Shake all ingredients together with ice and strain into a Martini glass or coupe. Optionally dust with nutmeg, cocoa or cinnamon. I think the Alexander is a great drink, but it didn’t prove very popular on the night. Perhaps many of our guests really were on a diet!

A common resolution is to help others or spend more time with loved ones, yadda yadda. This one is for you:

Bleeding Heart
8 raspberries
2 shots bourbon
1 shot crème de framboise (we used Briottet but Chambord is probably more easily available)
½ shot lime juice
¼ shot sugar syrup
Cranberry juice

Muddle the raspberries in the shaker, then add everything else except the cranberry, shake with ice and fine strain into an ice-filled highball. Top with cranberry juice and give it a bit of a stir. Bourbon and raspberries are a great combo, and this appears to have been the most popular drink on the night. I adapted it from a cocktail called Mrs Robinson, but the original used soda water; I used cranberry mainly for the bloody colour, but it also gives more body to this long drink. I also appear to have switched from lemon juice to lime juice: not sure why but it works nicely.

Going to the gym is another popular resolution (I gather that gyms fill up at the beginning of January, but the staff also know precisely when more of these new people will stop coming). So here is a healthy sports drink that also replaces the gin and tonic lost through exercise:

Iso-Tonic
6 basil leaves
2 shots gin
2 shots pineapple juice
½ shot Passoa passion fruit liqueur
½ shot lemongrass syrup
½ shot Lucozade Sport Lemon & Lime
Tonic water

Muddle the basil in the shaker, add everything else but the tonic, shake with ice, fine strain into an ice-filled highball and top with tonic water. Stir gently. This cocktail is mainly about the unexpectedly good combination of basil and pineapple; the passion fruit is less prominent but it plays a part. The recipe was adapted from a cocktail called the Byzantine which I found on Simon Difford’s impressive online database. The original used passion fruit syrup and lemon and lime cordial; I like the aromatic, herbaceous flavour of lemongrass (I made the syrup just by bringing 500ml granulated sugar and 250ml water to the boil, simmering eight split stalks of lemongrass in it for 10 minutes, leaving it to cool then straining it). The Lucozade Sport is obviously there primarily as a joke, but it does add some citrus that you would otherwise have to get from somewhere else.

The final cocktail was just something I had come up with and wanted to use. It’s an unexpectedly effective combination—I thought the grapefruit juice might put people off with its bitterness, but in fact it was so popular that we had to restock with the ingredients for the second night and even then ran out. The name comes from the discovery that a popular resolution is to dump a useless boyfriend/girlfriend and strike out anew. The zingy, quirky, unusual flavours seemed apt for a “new you” cocktail.

Me Time
1½ shots Zubrowka bisongrass vodka
1 shot St Germain elderflower liqueur
1 shot grapefruit juice
¼ shot crème d’abricot/apricot brandy

Shake everything with ice and strain into a coupe. The precise amount of apricot brandy depends on the brand (we used Briottet), and you may want to use slightly more. It should be subtle, though its sweetness helps balance the drink.

* This was established in 2005, using a hokey formula, by Cliff Arnall, a tutor at Cardiff University (which later distanced itself from him and his discovery).

A Cocktail to Relish

2012-01-19T12:36:00.000-08:00

I'm quite fond of the delicacies of the Englishman and one of these is Gentleman's Relish. For us at the Institute, Breakfast/Elevenses/Supper is not complete without a little bit of Patum Peperium.

But can it be incorporated into a cocktail that tastes good rather than just seeming a bit fishy?

25ml Gin (Preferably something herbal like Gin Mare, Berkeley Sq. or Leopolds
20ml Lemon Juice
1/4 Tsp Gentleman's Relish
SHAKE & STRAIN

Taste
I think I'm still to get me head around savoury cocktails but this works quite well with the the gin. Initially you get the herbal and juniper notes of the gin, freshness of the lemon and then a very slight salty fishy aftertaste from the relish. I think it would work even better if a accompanied by some small savoury biscuits.

An Old Fashioned Badger

2012-01-19T04:15:00.000-08:00

Our man in Wisconsin (the Badger State), USA, recently alerted me to this article in the New York Times Magazine. In it the reporter talks about how this classic cocktail in made in his home state.

It seems that in Wisconsin the Old Fashioned is primarily a brandy based drink and made to a different standard to that you would find in the fine bars of New York, San Francisco and New Orleans. Like the Martini, the Old Fashioned is a very personal drink with each "connoisseur" having their own particulars. In fact the variables in an Old Fashioned are probably even greater than the mix of gin and vermouth.

So how do they make them in Wisconsin?

"Every bartender here knows the drill: a bar spoon of sugar, three dashes of Angostura bitters, a lightly muddled slice of orange, a slug of brandy, lots and lots of ice, a splash of soda and, of course, a bright red maraschino cherry, often with an extra dose of the fluorescent juice that they swim in."

Taste
This is a different kettle of fish to my usual whisky or gin old fashioned. It is sweeter, more dilute and fruitier but still quite a nice drink.

Some aficionados will squirm at the fact that I included a little zip of 7UP for some extra zing; others will hate my fruit medley of a garnish. But in true honesty I like the drink; it is more refreshing than a traditional OF and, with the extra dilution, is much lighter.

I also really like the brandy combination with gives the drink a sweet, more rounded flavour profile. Given my fondness for the Horse's Neck I wonder how it would work if I replaced the 7UP with ginger ale..?

The Trouble with Vermouth II

2012-01-11T11:11:00.000-08:00

It's a new year but one problem still plagues us here at the institute, the issue of oxidizing vermouth. This is the thorn in the side of every Martini drinker and an off bottle can ruin a good silver bullet. It has been noted that Lillet and red vermouth last longer and that dry vermouth can be used in other cocktails; but none of these have really mitigated the problem.

So here is another try.

I opened a brand new bottle of vermouth, decanted it into smaller bottles and then immediately sealed them with a cap and sealing wax. They are now kept in the fridge with the idea that, when I need vermouth I can open one of the smaller bottles.

It should be noted that in the USA you can readily buy 50ml and 350ml bottles of Martini Extra Dry but even the miniatures are hard to come by. The folks at Berry Bros and Rudd do have Dolin Dry Vermouth (an excellent product) bottled for them exclusively in 350ml bottles: they are available here at £5.50 a bottle.

Typically a 70cl bottle of Dolin will cost you £8, so you pay a premium but if the second half of your big bottle of vermouth would just be wasted it becomes attractive.

Price of Angostura Bitters set to skyrocket?

2012-01-10T04:07:00.000-08:00

The oversized label apparently happened
by accident with a faulty batch. When
no one corrected the mistake in the next
batch the bottling plant ended up using
the dodgy batch, and it quickly became
iconic.

A lawyer friend of mine (yes, it is technically possible) asked my opinion back in August for a document he was preparing to challenge a proposal to lift the exemption from excise duty on Angosura Bitters. Angostura is actually 44.7% ABV, so it technically a booze, but since 1970 it has been exempt from UK duty—according to a press release from HM Revenue & Customs, this measure was introduced to help the economy of Trinidad, where it is made. HMRC now feel that that help is no longer needed.

My chum’s argument, however, was that the reason Angostura is not taxed in the UK “and most other countries” is that it is used to add flavour rather than as an alcoholic drink in its own right, and that the alcohol present is simply a preservative. Since it is used in such small quantities, he estimates that a 200ml bottle will contain over a 100 doses and, even in a domestic context, will be used in drinks for at least a dozen people—and obviously far more in bars. Since some 240,000 bottles of Angostura are imported into the UK each year, the tax change will affect an estimated 3 million people here.

HMRC estimates that the lifting of tax relief will raise the price of a 200ml bottle in the UK by £2–3, which is 35–50%, and as a result will cut UK sales by half. It’s worth noting that the turnover of the manufacturer, the House of Angostura (there’s an idea for a theme park ride), represents 3% of Trinidad and Tobago’s entire non-petrochemical manufacturing GDP.

Like many traditional bitters and liqueurs, Angostura started life as a medicine, invented by German ex-pat Johann Siegert in 1824. Siegert had gone to Venezuela to help Simon Bolivar fight the rule of the Spanish throne and Bolivar appointed him Surgeon-General to the military hospital in the town of Angostura. He created the bitters from herbs and roots* to treat fevers and stomach disorders afflicting the troops, and the tincture also became popular with seasick mariners. By 1850 demand outstripped supply and Siegert resigned his commission to focus on the bitters. After the doctor’s death the torch was carried on by his son, Carlos, a bon vivant and dandy who exhibited the product in London—where it was a hit with gin—Paris, Vienna, Philadelphia and Australia. Fearing the political instability of Venezuela, Carlos and his brothers moved the business to Trinidad, where it had remained, attracting various royal warrants and even a visit by the Queen in 1985.

Of course nowadays there is a huge number of new bitters on the market, many focusing on one particular flavour, such as orange, grapefruit, rhubarb, pepper or chocolate. It’s worth noting that none of these rivals gets the same tax relief—just Angostura. But when there was a shortage of Angostura in 2009 there was a panic among the bar community: clearly nothing else could quite take Angostura’s place. This may be, to one degree or another, a matter of history and culture—most normal people have heard of Angostura but are almost certainly unaware of any other bitters. Yet there is more to it than that: there really is something of the magic formula to Angostura. If I myself were on a desert island and, for some reason, were only allowed one type of bitters, it would undoubtedly by this one.

That iconic, if wordy, label. Click to enlarge

My friend’s argument was that a 50% loss in UK sales would actually mean a net loss to the Treasury, partly because the gain in excise duty would be offset by the lost VAT, reasoning that because of Angostura’s uniqueness there would be no alternative product purchased in its stead. I think that for most consumers this is probably true, given that, as mentioned above, they are probably not aware of any other bitters, and are unlikely to come across them in their normal shopping environment. Moreover (and here’s where the argument gets a little more speculative), he contends that the majority of Angostura goes into Pink Gins: he may have a point here, when you consider the hinterland of drinkers of a certain generation, compared to the relatively small community of cocktail-heads.

“It is important to remember that the Pink Gin occupies a unique position amongst alcoholic drinks,” he argues,” being the only way that the vast majority of drinkers will drink a very short, almost neat, gin.** This is in contrast to other major spirits, such as whisky and vodka, where drinking neat, or with just ice or a small splash of mixer, is much more common.

A pink gin yesterday

“In addition, the drinking of Pink Gins is a particular social action, particularly amongst those who are its regular devotees, for which there is no direct substitute.” He estimates that 20% of Pink Gin sales will be entirely lost, rather than the drinker switching to something else.

So a slump in Angostura sales will lead directly to a slump in gin sales, he reasons, meaning more lost revenue for HMRC. Moreover he believes that those Pink Gin drinkers who do switch rather than abstain will most likely move to premium vodkas made outside the UK, rather than gin made here, leading to yet more lost tax. He also contends that 18 UK jobs will be lost on the manufacturing side and 79 in the bar sector. Overall he reckons the Treasury will be down by some £2.8 million.

His plan was to submit his proposal anonymously under the banner of the Pink Gin Alliance, which tells you something about the degree of tongue-in-cheekery going on here. In any case, the government have evidently not been swayed by his argument, and the lifting of tax relief on Angostura Bitters will come into force in April 2013. Better start stockpiling now.

* The story goes that only about five people in the world know the formula. Some years ago when the writing on the piece of paper locked in a New York vault began to fade, the only other copy was exhumed and the recipe copied on to another sheet, which was then cut into quarters, each quarter sealed and dispatched separately by plane to New York. Who knows if any of this is true but it’s a good story.
** In fact recipes vary. Some people shake gin and Angostura with ice and serve in a Martini glass. My father-in-law likes his half-and-half with water. But the Pink Gin is undoubtedly historically significant, being the signature drink of the Royal Navy, allegedly because the gin was drunk to make the bitters (taken medicinally) more palatable.

Drinking you under the periodic table

2012-01-09T17:04:00.000-08:00

I was contacted by the www.bestcollegesonline.com, the people who created this ingeniousPeriodic Table for college students—remember, kids, drink responsibly!

Click on the image to see it larger. At the end of the day it is just a list of drinks, but ithas been lovingly categorised and includes details like the year of eachconcoction’s creation and even the ABV, which is something you don’t often comeacross in a cocktail context. To be really useful it would need the actualrecipes, but I guess that would be asking a bit much given the space available.

Just the thing for an ancient mariner

2012-01-09T12:49:00.000-08:00

Mrs H. found these tumblers as a Christmas present for her father, who spent his career at sea, first as a merchant seaman then as a pilot. The advice “do not load above this level” is probably wise, even if you’re not drinking on the deck of a pitching ship.

Samuel Plimsoll* was a British MP who campaigned on the overloading of ships after the increase in the loss of vessels in the 1860s. The line is painted on the side of a ship’s hull, indicating the highest the waterline can be allowed to rise as cargo is loaded. The reason for the multiplicity of lines is that temperature and salinity affect buoyancy—so in fresh or tropical waters the same load would cause the waterline to rise higher than in colder or saltier water. The abbreviations stand for: Tropical Fresh (TF), Fresh (F), Tropical (T), Summer Saltwater (S), Winter Saltwater (W) and Winter North Atlantic (WNA). The main base line is the summer one—the designers of these glasses have taken a bit of a liberty, because the long single line that runs through the circle should really be level with the summer line (“S”). The “LR” here stands of Lloyds Register, though the initials can vary depending on the agency that certified where the lines should be on that particular vessel.

I can’t really think of a reason why you might fill your whisky tumbler to different levels depending on the season or salinity of surrounding water—except perhaps that if you’re in the tropics then you’re probably on holiday so you can let rip and if it’s winter and you’re in the North Atlantic then the risk of spillage may be higher so caution when filling might be advised!

If you know someone who might appreciate some Plimsoll Line tumblers they can be had from from Nauticalia for £4.99 each or MarineStore for £4.34.

* I did wonder if the energetic Mr Plimsoll then went on to invent the eponymous canvas training shoe, but it turns out that Plimsoll shoes were not officially called that at all. It is a nickname given to them because the horizontal line often found along the edge of the sole reminded people of the Plimsoll Line.

A cocktail for Christmas

2011-12-19T09:34:00.000-08:00

Only a few days left till Christmas now, but still time for me to wish a hearty “God rest you!” to all you merry gentlemen and gentlewomen and to share a few tots of Christmas spirit.

I’m pleased to say that our seasonal cocktails went down a treat at the Candlelight Club this weekend, so I thought I’d share the recipes. However, I then realised that all but one of them involved ingredients you probably won’t have to hand—the Mince Flip uses mincemeat vodka (kindly made for us by DBS himself), the Cherry Christmas uses a rosemary tincture (made by infusing rosemary in vodka for about 24 hours), the Figgy Pudding uses fig liqueur and the Chestnuts on an Open Fire uses chestnut syrup. And of the course the Gold, Frankincense and Byrrh uses Byrrh and Goldschläger, not to mention Frankincense bitters!

But the sixth cocktail only uses ingredients you can easily find in the supermarket. It’s a sort of cross between the Dark n’ Stormy mixture of rum and ginger beer and that cheesy classic the Snowball. Mrs H. has become quite addicted to them.

Ginger Snap
1½ shots rum
1 shot advocaat
1 shot ginger wine (optional)
Ginger beer to top

Either shake everything but the ginger beer with ice and pour into an ice-filled highball, or just build it in the glass with ice if you don’t have shaker to hand. Then top up with ginger beer. Advocaat is made from brandy and eggs and is a bit like alcoholic custard, lending a rich, puddingy quality to this drink, which makes it dangerously moreish! The ginger wine isn’t essential but adds a bit more gingery pep.

If you’re after inspiration for more easy-to-make Christmas cocktails, Tesco have launched a slick-looking Christmas Cocktail Finder app on their Tesco Real Food website. You can search for recipes based on the ingredients you have to hand, or by details such as sweetness, glass type or even whether it is shaken, stirred or blended (presumably handy for when you really fancy a cocktail but simply haven’t the energy to deploy a shaker).

Despite all these variables, the database currently has only 69 recipes on it, but that’s still plenty to keep you going and almost certainly includes combinations that will be new to you. And while something like Simon Difford’s similar searchable database has, by contrast, thousands of recipes, the emphasis with the Tesco version is that all recipes require only ingredients you can easily get hold of in a supermarket. Such as Tesco, for example. As a spin-off from the website’s recipe finder, it also tells you the nutritional content of each drink (though not the number of alcohol units, oddly). I’ve just found another advocaat recipe here, the Kentucky Cheesecake (203 calories), which combines advocaat with bourbon, amaretto, lemon juice and maple syrup: I’m going to have to go and try that one. (That’s the thing about advocaat, by the way—once it’s open you’re supposed to keep it in the fridge and consume within six months. But you’re not really going to be wanting to drink it in the summer, so the only solution is just to keep drinking it now…)

Now, for the record, here are those other recipes:

Mince Flip
2 shots mincemeat vodka
1 shot cream
1 shot sweetish sherry, such as Harvey’s Bristol Cream
Nutmeg

Shake everything with ice and pour into a Martini glass, then dust with nutmeg. The vodka is made simply by steeping mincemeat in vodka, though I couldn’t tell you exactly how David does it. Trade secret, I suspect!

Cherry Christmas
1½ shots gin
¾ shot cherry brandy
½ shot sugar syrup
¼ shot rosemary tincture
Dash of cherry bitters
Cranberry juice

Shake everything but the cranberry and pour into an ice-filled highball, then top with cranberry and stir briefly. This drink is all about the unexpected combination of cherry and rosemary. The precise amount of tincture you need will depend on how strong you have made it, so go easy to start with. We used Fee Brothers cherry bitters, which made quite a difference to the cherryishness of the drinks, as will the cherry brandy you use. Cherry Marnier has bright confectionary cherry flavour, whereas Cherry Heering is actually rather dark and savoury.

Chestnuts on an Open Fire
2 shots gin
1 shot apple juice
½ shot Laphroaig single malt whisky
½ shot chestnut syrup
½ shot lemon juice

Shake everything together and strain into a martini or coupe glass. I’ve lost track of the number of people (all ladies, now I think about it) who declare that they don’t like whisky but love this drink. It’s a relative of the Smoky Martini but lengthened and sweetened. You don’t have to use Laphroaig but it probably has the most smoky flavour so you don’t need much to make the point. The combination of spicy gin, fruit from the apple juice, chestnutty sweetness and smoky iodine from the whisky is fascinating. We used Monin chestnut syrup.

Figgy Pudding
2 shots bourbon
½ shot crème de figues
½ shot ruby port
Dash of Angostura Bitters
Orange peel garnish

Shake everything with ice and strain into a Martini glass. Squeeze a strip of orange peel over the top and drop it in. A variation of the Manhattan, the bourbon here sweetened and fattened by the puddingy flavours of figs and port with some Christmassy orange zing to finish. We used Briottet crème de figues, though there may be other fig liqueurs out there.

Gold, frankincense—and stir!

2011-12-15T07:00:00.000-08:00

Gold, Frankincense and Byrrh: Stare into the drink and you can see the flakes of
gold from the Goldschläger

At the end of last month a bunch of us gathered at the newly opened Shaker & Co (formerly the pleasantly oriental Positively 4th Street and the scene of the New Sheridan Club’s 2008 “Mad Dogs and Englishmen” party) for an experimental seminar courtesy of the London Cocktail Society and Master of Malt, to have a look at the latter’s new range of “single varietal” bitters. I’ve talked a bit about them before, along with some experiments I have conducted using individual bitters in cocktails, but the object of the exercise on this occasion was to have a competition to blend them to make a definitive LCS bitters, which Master of Malt would then undertake to market.

The full range was there and the samples had helpfully been categorised into those you could safely use a lot of and the scary ones—such as very bitter infusions of wormwood or gentian, or the volcanically hot naga chilli—that you were warned to go easy on in your mix. I formed a team with Jenny from Sip or Mix: calling ourselves the Artemisians we decided to make an absinthe-influenced bitters which had 5 parts fennel, 4 parts liquorice, 4 parts coriander, 4 parts cardamom, 5 parts curaçao and one part each of black pepper, frankincense, angelica and, or course, wormwood. The aniseedy liquorice and fennel were actually balanced by the pretty strong citrus influence of the curaçao, and the bitterness of the wormwood offset by the sweetness of the curaçao and the liquorice. But it’s odd working on a bitters neat, given that it is something that will actually be used in minuscule doses in a cocktail. Should it even taste nice on its own? Peychaud’s certainly doesn’t! Perhaps it would be best to test it by putting a few drops in a glass of water…

Needless to say we didn’t win. I haven’t tried the winning formula, as it is presumably now an industrial secret in the Master of Malt labs, but it should be available for the MoM website soon. But it certainly gets you thinking about how some of the single varietals could be, erm, “leveraged” in cocktail making. Such as the coffee, chocolate or kola bitters, for example.

I’ve been doing some more tinkering with the Frankincense Bitters, not least because it is seasonal. Frankincense is not something that most of us are used to working with (though it is a key ingredient in Sacred gin). Made from the sap of the Boswellia sacra tree it is a fragrant resin that is burned for its aroma and smells a bit like cinnamon and a bit like hot solder (which has resin in it), a mysterious, almost dangerously aromatic smell, which was why I used a bit of the bitters in our Opium Dream cocktail for the 1920s Shanghai event at the Candlelight Club. My friend Fr. Michael Silver, a high-church priest by trade, sampled one of these cocktails and immediately picked up on the frankincense note, and I guess he would know!

Opium Dream
2 shots gin
2 shots mandarin, clementine or orange & mandarin juice
½ shot poppy liqueur
¼ shot lime juice
1 splash of bleue/blanche absinthe (we used La Clandestine)
5 drops Frankincense bitters

Shake and strain into a Martini or coupe glass. The poppy liqueur I used was from the Briottet range. Obviously I mainly used it because it existed and seemed appropriate, though it has a very confectionary, floral taste, a bit like rose or violet creams. It reminded me of grenadine, so this cocktail is really a Monkey Gland with Liqueur de Coquelicot de Nemours instead of grenadine, plus the frankincense. The mandarin juice was originally just there as a joke because it fitted the Chinese theme, but being sharper than orange juice it balances the sweetness of the liqueur. They sell cartons of clementine juice in Tesco now, I see.

The Gold, Frankincense and Byrrh cocktail

I’m using these bitters again for our Christmas party in a cocktail that I couldn’t resist inventing just for the name, really:

Gold, Frankincense and Byrrh
1 shot Byrrh
½ shot Goldschläger
5 drops frankincense bitters
Champagne or sparkling wine to top

Either shake the first three ingredients with ice or simply add them to a Champagne flute or coupe and top with chilled Champagne or sparkling wine. It has a distinct gingeriness from the Goldschläger plus aromatic and bitter notes from the Byrrh and that resinous mystery from the bitters. Like a very refined and holy mulled wine. Which isn’t mulled. But is quite seasonal.

Christmas book competition: the results!

2011-12-13T02:07:00.000-08:00

To win a copy of Victoria Moore’s new book How to Drink at Christmas, I asked you simply to tell me what your favourite Christmas drink was, in whatever manner you chose. After much deliberation, bribery and a steward’s enquiry, I can reveal the winning entries.

Mr Giles Culpepper was quick to jab in his response: “My favourite Christmas tipple is a tumbler half full of red wine topped up with Scotch, commonly known as Queen Victoria’s Tipple.” As an afterthought he adds, “Go easy on the Scotch unless you’re keen on an evening of utter oblivion.”* Well, if you can’t embrace oblivion at Christmas, when can you do it? This makeshift and appealingly desperate-sounding drink is nicer than it sounds. I tried a half-and-half mix using a bottle of Primitivo I had open and some Johnnie Walker Red Label and it was actually rather unpleasant—somehow more astringent than either of the component ingredients. But when I increased the wine to two thirds it suddenly began to make more sense. I’m not sure if it is supposed to be drunk on the rocks but I doubt it would do any harm.

A Secret Martini, made using a miniature
shaker that I picked up from Shaker & Co:
very handy for one-person cocktails

Our next winner is Mr Maximillion Conrad, who submitted a cocktail recipe with accompanying haiku:

Fucking Christmas... Shit!
The New Sheridan Club, ahh...
Brings me Chappish joy.

Secret Martini (a good name for the New Sheridan Club spy-themed party, no?)
3 oz. Gin
1 oz. Lillet Blanc
2 dashes Angostura Bitters

Shake with cracked ice (preferably to the rhythm of "Jingle Bells") and strain into a chilled martini glass. I find it to have the perfect balance of inducing forgetfulness, and making conversation flow effortlessly.

Related to the Vesper Martini (from the James Bond novel Casino Royale: 3 parts gin, 1 part vodka, ½ part Lillet, lemon twist), this drink does away with the vodka, and doubles the presence of the Lillet Blanc. The Vesper was originally made with Kina Lillet, which contained quinine and would have had a bitter edge, like the red vermouth Punt e Mes; as here, many modern bartenders add Angostura to replace the lost bitterness, though of course this also adds colour. (As an alternative try Cocchi Americano or China Martini.) I knocked one up using No.3 gin and the resulting cocktail was relatively sweet, both from the sweet orange in the gin and the orangey sweetness of the Lillet.

Ms Sadie Doherty submitted this intriguing blend:

My favourite Christmas tipple would have to be 1 part Goldschläger (or Becherovka if you can get your hands on some—I’ve only had it once but it was lovely), 1 part ginger wine, 1 part lemon juice, shaken with plenty of ice and topped up with fiery ginger beer. It doesn’t really have a name so I will call it a Gingerbread Fan for want of better pun.

A Gingerbread Fan made using Becherovka.
That garnish is a slice of ginger, by the way,
not a potato crisp

Ginger and cinnamon flavours make this a very Christmassy drink, though the hearty dose of lemon counters the sweetness of the liqueur and actually makes it sharp and refreshing. It’s not too alcoholic, if that should prove a factor. Becherovka is indeed not that easy to get hold of here (though ubiquitous and dirt cheap in the Czech Republic).

Ms Elaine Myburgh’s offering comes with an elaborate origin story:

It was a treacherously dark and stormy night, with howling winds and shrieks galore, when two aspiring mixologists called on help from above to create a drink so potent as to bleach all their nefarious deeds from their fellow mens’ memories.

Out came the Sailor Jerry’s rum to warm their cockles, the port to put hair back on chests that had long forgotten what it felt like to puff up in pride, the orange flame to hearken back to days in sunny splendour on far of shores.

Stirred slowly over ice, with the bartender’s version of Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble softly repeated four times to hide the true potency of this devilishly delicious concoction it was then finished of with a dash of fresh OJ and a cinnamon stick to stir as garnish.

Sailor Jerry’s is not my favourite spiced rum—too sweet with cloying vanilla for me—but in the right combination it can work. Elaine has so far not given me the actual recipe, but it clearly involves Sailor Jerry’s, port, orange juice plus the cryptic reference to the “orange flame”. Sounds a bit sweet, but certainly Christmassy.

A Sloe Gin Fizz

The final prize goes to Ms Claire Wallin for reminding us that Champagne and sloe gin are an excellent combination, with the dry acidity of the wine balancing with the sweetness of the fruity spirit. “The mix of bubbly goodness with what I class as (almost) one of my five a day is a perfect
seasonal treat!” she says.

As it happens this drink is in the very book that you have been competing for, as a Sloe Gin Fizz, mixing one part sloe gin to three parts sparkling wine. I would probably use less sloe gin than this, but it depends on the intensity and sweetness of the brand (or homemade special) you have to hand.

Those are our five winners, though honourable mention must go to Mr Rob Harrison, who introduced me to the Gin Basil Smash, a drink invented at Le Lion in Hamburg and which went on to win Best New Cocktail at Tales of the Cocktail in 2008, but of which I don’t think I was aware. Not only that but he presented his recipe in limerick form:

“Hendrick's smash”, a delectable sin:
Take lemonade, ice, to begin,
A fistful of basil,
A lemon to dazzle,
Then fill to the top with some gin!

You can see that Rob is firmly in the Hendrick’s camp, though I notice that Jörg Meyer, the inventor, doesn’t specify a brand. Interestingly Rob uses lemonade, whereas most recipes combine gin and basil with sugar syrup and lemon juice: take a good handful of basil, muddle it in a shaker with half a lemon to extract the juice from both. Then add 20ml sugar syrup and 60ml gin. Shake it all vigorously with ice and double strain into a glass filled with cracked or cubed ice. The result is quite green.

However, in the final analysis, interesting as this cocktail is, I decided it wasn’t Christmassy enough to make it into the winning five! Sorry, Rob.

Thanks to all who entered, and a Merry Christmas (with the emphasis on merry) to all our readers.

* Kingsley Amis’s advice for making this drink is: “The quantity of Scotch is up to you but I recommend stopping a good deal short of the top of the tumbler.”

Down on the farm... A Cocktail from McDonalds

2011-12-09T07:10:00.001-08:00

We like, nay, we are obligated, to experiment here at the institute and inspiration can come from all sorts of places. For the festive period this fast-food chain, founded in 1955, has released a range of limited-edition foods. These include Mozzarella Bites, which are small circles of deep-fried mozzarella.

City Farm
A variation on the Red Snapper, this pairs tomato juice with the rather herbal Berkeley Square Gin, a dash of lemon juice for balance and some bitters for bite. The Mozzarella Bite is used as a garnish.

25ml Berkeley Square Gin
50ml Tomato Juice
10ml Lemon Juice
Dash of Bitters

Shake with ice, strain into a Martini glass and garnish.

The Taste
I was dubious but it works surprisingly well, rather well balanced. The herbal notes of the gin, basil, sage and a touch of lavender are good partners for the tomato juice and the lemon juice adds some bite.

Additionally you get a little snack from the garnish which you can dip in the cocktail in the same way you may use salsa.

Win a copy of 'How  to Drink at Christmas'

2011-12-07T04:03:00.001-08:00

To help your Yuleide quaffing go with ease, confidence and panâche, I have five copies of How to Drink at Christmas by Telegraph drinks columnist Victoria Moore to give away.

A spin-off from her successful How to Drink volume, this little tome gives a manageable overview of seasonal boozing, from what you need to keep in stock, drinks ideas for large and small parties, including party food too, warming drinks, non-alcoholic drinks and, of course, a step-by-step guide to getting people drunk on Christmas day, including food to go with Christmas fayre and how to choose Champagne.

Ms Moore also gives her opinons on favourite spirit brands and takes an interesting detour to look specifically at vodka, as well as what she considers to be the perfect Martini. There are plenty of cocktail recipes, both classic and creations of her own (with a particular obsession with clementine juice for some reason—although by coincidence I discovered that my local Tesco sells the stuff in cartons now).

To be in with a chance of winning one of these books, just email mrhartley@newsheridanclub.co.uk telling me what your favourite Christmas tipple is. It can be a cocktail of your own devising, an impassioned defence of an established beverage, a mercilessly logical argument, a letter to Santa, a filthy limerick… the world is your prairie oyster. Come next Monday, the five which have amused or impressed me the most will receive copies of the book.

Update form the Lab #9 - Armadillo Liqueur

2011-11-15T10:03:00.001-08:00

A few weeks back, I made a Terry's Chocolate Orange Liqueur, which was inspired by the fact that one once existed. After she had tried some, Miss Sally suggested that a Dime* (Daim) Bar based chocolate cream liqueur would be another good one to try. Dime being my favourite chocolate bar**, I thought this was an excellent idea.

Dime was a little tricky to come by today; I had to go five different shops before I found some. Even once I had done so, I realised that, as there is not a lot of chocolate in a Dime Bar, the crunchy caramel inside would quickly burn if I tried to melt it on its own. Luckily, Waitrose sell some Milka Swiss Chocolate with real Dime (Daim) Bar pieces in it, which has a much higher chocolate to Dime crunch ratio.

Here's the recipe:

Dime Bar Liqueur

Half a 100g bar of Milka Swiss Dime Bar Chocolate (£0.98 for 100g in Waitrose)

One Dime (Daim) Bar

60ml Semi-skimmed Milk

60ml Double Cream

60-100ml Vodka

Melt the Milka Chocolate in a Bain Marie with a splash of milk.

Whilst waiting for it to melt, crush a Dime Bar to pieces with a pestle and mortar until you get Dime Bar dust.

Whilst continuing to stir the mix,

add the semi-skimmed milk,

then the double cream,

then the Dime Bar dust.

Keep stirring until you have a smooth mixture.

Remove the mixture from the Bain Marie and add the vodka.

Allow to cool, bottle and keep in the fridge.

How does it taste?

The key to any of these liqueurs is to try and get the end product to taste like the chocolate bar that you are emulating. This one has a mixture of milk chocolate and hard caramel on the nose, just like a freshly snapped Dime Bar. The taste is like liquid Dime Bar in a glass: smooth, creamy chocolate, slightly salty caramel and buttery burnt sugar. The alcohol also adds a very slight warmth at the end.

What's next? Probably a Caramac Liqueur but suggestions are welcome.

* In continental Europe, Daim Bars have always been known as such; however, up until a few years ago in the UK, they were known as Dime Bars.
** My ultimate was the Champagne Crunchie (discontinued about 10 years ago), although I also quite like Twix and Kitkats (when riding a train).

Unleash the bitterness inside you

2011-11-11T04:20:00.001-08:00

Following on from my review of part of the range of “single varietal” bitters from Master of Malt, you may like to know that the London Cocktail Society are having a tutored tasting of this range on Wednesday 23rd November at Shaker & Co., 119 Hampstead Road, London NW1 3EE. Looks as if you’ll be able to taste the terrifying Naga Chilli (the world’s hottest chilli, I believe), smoked Chipotle and Sour Cherry bitters, among others. After that, those present will divide into small groups to have a go at blending their own bitters using the separate varietals. There will be a blind tasting and the winning formula will go into production as London Cocktail Society Bitters! Because of demand there will be two sittings for the blending, at 7pm and 7.45pm, followed by the judging at 8pm.

Places are strictly limited. If you fancy coming along see www.londoncocktailsociety.co.uk for more details.

Cocktails for Bonfire Night

2011-11-10T14:34:00.001-08:00

Right from when I noticed, earlier in the year, that Guy Fawkes night (5th November) fell on a Saturday I had the idea of doing a themed Candlelight Club party, somehow creating cocktails with smoky, fiery flavours.

A few ingredients immediately leapt to mind. First was Chase’s Oak-Smoked Vodka, which is produced in limited editions (now on its second batch) by allowing oak smoke to infuse into the spirit for about a week in a specially designed smoked chamber. It’s an extraordinary taste—and not to everyone’s liking, as my partner observed when he wrinkled his nose and said it smelled like bacon. (I didn’t tell him that bacon vodka is a well-established concept.) But it’s also quite a subtle flavour. I tried various vodka cocktails, such as one called a Hot Tub which combines vodka with pineapple juice and prosecco, but the results weren’t very nice. It works fine in a Bloody Mary, but that’s quite a feisty cocktail for a delicate vodka (and many people are convinced it’s really a breakfast drink). So I decided it perhaps needed showcasing in a simpler recipe and ended up with a Collins/Fizz arrangement and hit on the idea of adding a bit of fruit body from sloe gin, a seasonal and rather English beverage.

Heart of Oak
2 shots Chase oak-smoked vodka
1 shot sloe gin (I used Hayman’s)
½ shot lemon juice
½ shot sugar syrup
soda water
Shake first four ingredients and strain into an ice-filled highball. Top with soda water.

The smoke is not at all puckering or cloying: it’s a subtle background dry waft, almost meaty, indeed like smoked duck or bacon. The sloes are again calm, dry and rather ethereal compared to, say, the blackberries in cassis (see below), with a hint of spice. With the pencil-lead juniper from the base gin this ends up a little like smoked game with a sloe and juniper jus. The lack of cloyingness to the fruit makes this a lean, refreshing number; just the thing to follow a country ramble in the late autumn afternoon—with a suggestion of dinner to come!

In the spring I was introduced to a ballsy product called Fireball, made from Canadian whisky blended with a cinnamon liqueur. Despite its name it’s not really hot, but has a vague pepperiness to its cinnamon spice. But for the name alone I thought it was worth including. One of the brand’s signature serves is a cocktail called Dub Dub’s Apple Pie, cleverly combing the cinnamon of the whisky with apple, a classic pairing. But Fireball is a pretty in-your-face flavour, with a medicinal quality that reminds me of surgical spirit (or rootbeer, depending on your drinking history), so I replaced half of the Fireball with calvados to calm it down a bit while emphasising the apple:

Hot Apple Pie
1 shot Fireball cinnamon whisky
1 shot calvados
1½ shots apple juice
1 shot lemon juice
10ml egg white
1 dash Angostura bitters
Shake all ingredients vigorously and strain into a Martini or coupé glass.

Even in this reduced quantity, the sweetness of the Fireball offsets the lemon juice pretty well, though some might want to add a bit of syrup. It is a lot like baked apple with cinnamon!

There is a well-established simple cocktail called a Smoky Martini which adds a small amount of whisky (most likely a smoky Islay malt or a blend with a high smoked malt content) to a normal Martini (often omitting the vermouth). In a party environment I tend to steer clear of cocktails that are basically all spirit, so I combined this idea with the Abbey/Bronx direction of lengthening it with a small amount of orange juice, plus a sweet-sour mix of sugar syrup and lime juice to give it body.

Smokini
1½ shots gin
½ shot Islay malt whisky
1 shot orange juice
½ shot sugar syrup
¾ shot lime juice
Shake all ingredients and strain into a Martini or coupé glass.

The flavour of this cocktail will obviously depend on your choice of whisky. With Bowmore it is fairly subtle but with Laphroaig it’s more up-front in its smoky, peaty, iodine character. But even using Laphroaig it makes a drink that Mrs H.—who basically doesn’t like whisky—declared to be very tasty.

Everyone seems to be using tea in cockails at the moment, so inevitably the idea of smoked lapsang souchong tea came up. There is a cocktail called a Smoky Old Bastard (on the grounds that it is a bastardisation of an Old Fashioned) that combines Bourbon, lapsang and maple syrup. I had some maple syrup knocking around so I gave it a try. I found it a trifle thin so I experimented with fruiting it up a bit using apricot (which I always think goes rather nicely with bourbon) and plum bitters.

Bonfire of the Vani-Teas
2 shots bourbon
2 shots cold lapsang souchong tea
1 shot crème d’abricot
½ shot lemon juice
¼ shot maple syrup (or regular syrup)
2 dashes plum bitters
Shake all ingredients and strain into a rocks-filled glass

The apricot liqueur adds sweetness so you don’t need much syrup—in fact you probably don’t much notice the fact that it is maple syrup, so I’m sure simple syrup would do just as well. The tannins in the tea dry it out, so it’s quite a refreshing drink, not hefty.

Finally, I wanted to include ginger, and ended up adapting a recipe from the 1940s called El Diablo. This is tequila-based, but I wanted something that better evoked the pagan horrors lurking in the English hedgerow, so I used gin instead, along with the ginger beer, lime and crème de cassis of the original, plus some of Monin’s extraordinary gingerbread syrup, mainly because it seemed seasonal.

The Horned One
2 shots gin
¾ shot crème de cassis
1 shot lime juice
1 tsp (5ml) gingerbread syrup
Ginger beer
Shake first four ingredients and strain into an ice-filled highball. Top with ginger beer.

The gingerbread syrup can be very overwhelming and, even with just a teaspoon, it and the blackcurrant are the dominant flavours—and they go together very well. (I see that Gabriel Boudier makes a blackcurrant and gingerbread liqueur, so I am clearly not the only person who thinks this.) To be honest you aren’t much aware of the gin and it would probably work well with white rum too.

I had just acquired some of Master of Malt’s chipotle (smoked chilli) bitters and was intrigued to try adding some, to turn up the heat of the ginger (some ginger beer has chilli in it), while again adding some smokiness, but Mrs H. persuaded me that it might be nice to have at least one cocktail that was neither hot nor smoky, so I let it lie. For now. Mwah, hah, hah hah…

All that Glitters Is Gold

2011-11-10T10:09:00.000-08:00

I was sitting in a local Tavern with my folks and Mrs. B when I noticed dear old Mumsie's drink seemed to be shimmering. Upon closer inspection it seemed to have glitter floating in it. Thinking that I may have found a new source of Goldfinger's favourite metal I was quickly corrected that it was actually J2o Glitter Berry the soft drinks latest limited edition, a mix of cherry, grape, spice and glitter.

It appears that this not only available in the local drinking dens but also in hypermarkets too, as Mumsie seemed to have a stock of them at home. I acquired two bottles to test for the good fellows (readers) of the IAE.

Metal is not uncommon in alcoholic drinks, Goldschläger (Swiss/Italian cinnamon schnapps) is a well known brand* and there was once a Silverschläger; no doubt local varieties of these products still exist on the continent.** For a tenuous link one could point to the alcoholic Sanatogen Wine with Extra Iron.

So what makes it glitter? A quick call to Britvic Consumer Careline revealed it to be "edible food-grade glitter"*** also known as E171 and E172.****

The Glitter, clearly visible after the bottle had been resting on its side.

But how does it taste?

Very smooth, with long cherry notes, jammy and fruity, quite intense but not too sweet. Some nutmeg and cinnamon too and a hint of vanilla. A slick texture but very nice with it. A long finish and, no you can't taste/feel the glitter.

Cocktail

It wouldn't be the IAE without a cocktail so here we go.

The Henry Ruschmann

*****

50ml Laird's Apple Jack (made in New Jersey)

100ml J2o Glitter Berry

Ice and a Dash of Bitters

BUILD

It is quite amusing to have a sparkling drink and also quite festive. The sweet apple warmth goes well with the intense jammy cherry notes of the drink, add a dash of Caralicious caramel vodka and it would be like a cherry and apple pie. Easy to drink and pretty tasty. If you are averse to sweet drinks I suggest adding a splash of lemon juice.

*The gold is in there as it was originally thought to have medicinal benefits. The idea that the metal makes little cuts in the inside of your throat so that alcohol can be quickly absorbed is the stuff-and-nonsense of a tanked-up know-all teeny bopper.
** For the high-rollers you could have Platinumschläger or even Diamondschläger, with tiny crushed up diamond in it. Until then you'll have to be happy with Precious Vodka.
*** Some tortology for you there.
**** Also known, respectively, as titanium dioxide and iron oxides/hydroxide—both of which are illegal as food additives in Germany.
***** Named after the New Jersey engineer who invented glitter

Spirited Cries - Tasting 'Owler Pear Spirit

2011-11-08T02:31:00.000-08:00

This weekend I found myself in the heart of the New Forest at a strange cross between a cider festival and steam rally; I watch a ceremony of Wassail and was serenaded by the jangled tones of The Plonker, the local agricultural orchestra. In between picking out bit of straw from scrumpy I tried an interesting product that was a little out of place #1 it was distilled #2 it was from Gloucestershire*.

'Owler Pear Spirit is made by Charles Martell, the man behind Stinking Bishop Cheese** and is made at Hunts Court Farm Distillery in Dymock Gloucestershire. It is an unaged pear spirit / eaux-de-vie and is bottled at 40%ABV.

It's not cheap, £50 for 70cl***

The Taste
nose: dry, full, hint of vanilla pear and apple
taste: really, really smooth. Full pear flavour but not too sweet and with a pleasant dryness. Hints of vanilla and almond. Like the nose dry, and then warmth at the end. As eau de vies go it's pretty good.

* Not 'Ampshire or even Daw-sett.
** This is a Glouchester cheese made from the milk of Gloucester cattle, which in 1972 consisted of only 68 Gloucester breed heifers. It has a distinctive odour which comes from the process with which the cheese is washed during its ripening; it is immersed in perry every four weeks while it matures.
*** This is what first caught my eye, I wondered how they could justify charging so much.

What use are "single varietal" bitters?

2011-10-28T11:09:00.000-07:00

Most of us probably have a bottle of Angostura bitters somewhere: it’s one of those things, like Tabasco, that never seems to get finished. But such is the strength of the cocktail revolution going on at the moment that all manner of other bitters are being unleashed on to the market, ranging from the primordial Peychaud’s bitters, recreations of ancient recipes such as celery bitters and Jerry Thomas’s favourite Boker’s bitters, to all manner of fruit and veg flavours (grapefruit, rhubarb, cranberry, plum…) and oddities like chocolate bitters.

Bitters are the granddaddies of the cocktail world. Originally medicinal infusions of bitter herbs, roots and barks, it’s likely that we started blending them with booze to make the medicine easier to take, then developed a taste for it. The original definition of a cocktail was specifically a spirit augmented by any or all of bitters, sugar and water. Any other kind of mixed drink fell under a different name. Now the term “bitters” is used for any concentrated flavoured tincture a dash or two of which might be used to deepen a cocktail’s flavour or add aromatic notes.

Master of Malt have thrown their hat into the ring with a range of “single varietal” (a term taken from the wine world, I assume) bitters—each featuring just one flavouring ingredient, infused in vodka, bourbon or rum. The range includes sour cherry, cinnamon, black pepper, cumin, juniper (a kind of “gin concentrate”—add a few drops to vodka, perhaps, and voila?), cardamom, clove, coriander, fennel, angelica, cocoa, coffee, liquorice, sweet orange, gentian, curaçao (bitter orange), chilli (both smoked chipotle and volcanic naga) and frankincense. They also do their own blended products, such as their whisky-barrel aged bitters and a forthcoming Christmas bitters.

Of course the first thing that sprang to mind with the single varietal ones was—is this any better than just using the ingredient itself? For example, why use cumin bitters rather than just a pinch of cumin? I tried using just such an ingredient in one of the North African inspired drinks at the A Night in Casablanca event that the Candlelight Club held in August:

Djinn Fizz
2 shots gin
1 shot lemon juice
½ shot crème de menthe blanche
½ shot sugar syrup
Pinch of cumin/few drops of cumin bitters
2 shots soda water
Shake first five ingredients, strain into a glass and add soda. Garnish with fresh mint.

The cumin is by no means essential but in moderation it is quite interesting, adding a flavour that is fresh but quite savoury. I tried this with both ground cumin and cumin bitters and the result is pretty much the same, though you need more of the bitters than you might think.

Or course the big difference is that the bitters are liquid and therefore blend easily. Spices as a rule do not dissolve as such: I don’t know what actually happens to the cumin in the Djinn Fizz, but in the following cocktail—created for the Candlelight Club’s Boardwalk Empire Season 2 launch party—I had trouble with the ground cinnamon:

Applejack Rabbit
1½ shots Laird’s Applejack
½ shot Aperol
½ shot maple syrup
¾ shot lemon juice
1 shot orange juice
Pinch of cinnamon/few drops of cinnamon bitters
Apple slice to garnish
Shake and strain into an ice-filled highball. Garnish with a slice of apple. An old cocktail from the 1930s, with added Aperol (something that currently vies with tea as the cocktail ingredient du jour).

It tasted right, but the actual particles of cinnamon are quite visible and quickly sink to the bottom. I also noticed that if you left the cocktail for a while the cinnamon flavour intensifies, as the ground bark spends more time infusing. On the night the bar staff mostly just sprinkled the cinnamon on the top instead. By contrast, the Master of Malt Cinnamon Bitters avoids this problem altogether.

Similarly, another cocktail from our Moroccan night (originally created by Will Sprunt for our Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, and here just wheeled out again under a different name because it went so well with the theme) originally used cardamom seeds:

Rose Martini (aka Queen of Hearts)
2 shots gin
¾ shot dry vermouth
½ shot rose syrup 
The seeds from a cardamom pod/few drops of cardamom bitters
Lemon twist  
Shake cardamom, gin, syrup and vermouth together, and strain into a martini glass. Finish with lemon peel. This is a cracking cocktail that tastes like alcoholic Turkish Delight.

First of all I found that you really need to crush the seeds with a muddler to get any flavour out in the short time that you are shaking. But actually splitting a cardamom pod is pretty fiddly and not really something you want to be doing in a busy bar environment. In this example, using 5–6 drops of the cardamom bitters was a godsend, adding the desired flavour quickly and without any solid residue to worry about.

Then you have something like the Master of Malt Frankincense Bitters. Most of us probably don’t have lumps of frankincense knocking around the house, so if that is the flavour you are after then this is clearly a good way to go. Frankincense (a resin tapped from the Boswellia sacra tree) is a hard flavour to describe, being a bit like cinnamon but less overtly woody. If you’ve ever done any soldering (solder includes resin) the smell of frankincense will be familiar. I plan to try using the bitters in a Christmas cocktail called Gold, Frankincense and Byrrh (using Goldschläger or Goldwasser, Byrrh and Frankincense Bitters, perhaps with a gin base)—expect a report in a month or so as to whether this has any merits beyond a play on words.

Another possibility is to play with gin by using the coriander, cinnamon, angelica or cardamom bitters (all common enough gin botanicals) to push your gin’s flavour balance one way or another. Fennel and clove too, now I come to think of it. Of course these are infusions rather than distillations, so things like the gentian bitters (which I have not tried yet) will presumably be indeed very bitter (like Peychaud’s or Angostura bitters, which contain it), compared, say, to Ian Hart’s Sacred range of single-botanical distillates, in which the distillation process removes all bitterness from botanicals such as gentian, hop or wormwood.

Check out the full range of Master of Malt bitters here.

Cocktails with Jameson Irish Whiskey

2011-10-16T13:41:00.000-07:00

Me looking proprietorial at the Jameson Apartment—just before the real barman
came and threw a bar towel at me

If you fancy a drink in London’s Soho area any time between now and 27th October, why not slide by No. 39 Greek Street. Jameson have conjured a pop-up “cinematic speakeasy”* out of the largest of the private dining rooms on the first floor of ancient restaurant Kettner’s, with its own door into the street. As well as an agreeably quirky room, with lush oak panelling and a moulded plaster ceiling, you get to enjoy a menu of cocktails made with Jameson.

Not only that, but I will be there in a sort of “host” capacity every night except tonight, Sunday 16th. (We’re also having Candlelight Club parties on the Saturdays, but those are ticketed events and I’m afraid they have sold out.) So do swing by and say hello.

I must say that Celtic style whisk(e)y—as opposed to American style—is not something that obviously springs to my mind as a cocktail ingredient, and specifically Irish whiskey less so. But now that I am spending my evenings as a professional barfly I have had the chance to find out how well the stuff works in cocktails.

There aren’t so many classic cocktails featuring Scotch, apart from things like the Rob Roy (essentially a Manhattan made with Scotch)—and, if I’m honest, the Rob Roy is a pretty good example of why.** There is something pungent about Scotch which seems to quarrel with so many other ingredients. Ed McAvoy, now a Jameson ambassador, who designed the drinks at the Apartment, says it is the smokiness in Scotch that causes this problem. I have certainly found that trying to use a really smoky, iodine-flavoured Islay malt to make a Godfather cocktail failed dismally because the whisky worked so badly with the Amaretto.

But Jameson don’t smoke any of their grain. And they also triple distil their whiskey, whereas most blended Scotch is apparently only twice distilled. Given that, with each distillation, the “heads and tails”—the very first and very last vapours to emerge, which contain undesirable parts of the alcohol spectrum—are discarded, the more times you repeat the process, in theory, the more “pure” a spirit you’ll end with. This purity may or may not be what you are after (and at the Boutique Bar Show recently I tasted the single-distilled Polish Vestal Vodka which is hair-raisingly full of characterful congeners), but apparently the smooth approachability of Jameson can be attributed to the triple distillation.

Ed’s cocktails contain some bold flavours, but the other ingredients aren’t there to mask the flavour of the Jameson. Rather, he has spotlighted some unexpected combinations that work really well with the woody, caramel flavours of the whiskey. Combinations such as whiskey and kiwi fruit in his Jameson Emerald Presse or Jameson and raspberry in the Jameson Macree. Elsewhere he plays up the caramel character, such as in the Irish Martini that uses butterscotch schnapps and textural pear juice (which manages to be silky and slightly grainy at the same time)—and despite the name contains none of the ingredients of a Martini—and the Jameson Caramel Manhattan, one of my favourites:

Jameson Caramel Manhattan
35ml Jameson
15ml caramel liqueur
12.5ml red vermouth
25ml pineapple juice
2 dashes of Peychaud’s bitters

Shake all ingredients with ice and fine strain into a chilled glass. Squeeze a lemon twist over the top (and discard) and garnish with a pineapple wedge on the rim.

What hits you first is the caramel, backed up by the whiskey. The pineapple juice, by comparison, creeps up on you. In fact if you didn’t know what was in it you might struggle to work out what was giving that balancing character, the rather spiky flavour of the juice evening out the sweet burnt sugar of the caramel. The only problem with this cocktail is that it is so moreish you are tempted to finish it too quickly!

Another of my favourites is this one:

Jameson Apricot Sour
35ml Jameson
12.5ml apricot brandy
20ml apricot purée
20ml pressed cloudy apple juice
10ml freshly squeezed lemon juice

Shake and strain. Again the caramel warmth of the whiskey marries delightfully with the apricot, and the lemon juice and rind oil give it a wake-up zest. I tried this using apricot jam and it works well, though I personally think that the cocktail tastes better with 50ml of whiskey. Even Mrs H. agreed and she admits she doesn’t really like whiskey—but really likes this cocktail. Job done, Ed.

* The cinematic connection is that Jameson sponsor the BFI London Film Festival, which runs for precisely the period that the Apartment is there, and other film festivals around the world too. I gather the film link is all about storytelling, and an idea of a specific Irish love of storytelling as part of any convivial—and therefore whiskey-fuelled—evening.
** Though if you want to try probably the nicest Rob Roy you are likely to come across, try the ready-mixed, bottled version from Master of Malt.

There is Worcestershire Sauce. And there is Worcestershire Sauce Special Edition

2011-10-14T08:42:00.000-07:00

If you thought the attempt to create a premium version of Marmite with Marmite XO was unexpected, then check this out. Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce now comes in a luxury version called Worcestershire Sauce Special Edition. (In what sense a sauce can come in an “edition” I do not know. It hasn’t exactly been “edited”.)

Like Marmite XO, the bottle of the new version is larger and darker than the standard version, though not quite as weightily opulent as the black and gold makeover given to the pot that the yeasty paste comes in, with its suggestion of the decadence of a Roman Emperor, or perhaps a slightly scaled down version of Napoleon’s tomb in Les Invalides. The label on the Lea & Perrins basic sauce bottle is already dark brown and orange with gold details, and the SE mostly just adds a lot more gold. But the bottle itself has gone from clear to frosted, opaque dark brown—as if it is just not safe for mortal eyes to gaze upon the wondrous liquid inside.

Like Marmite XO, Worcestershire Sauce SE has been lovingly blended for a fuller flavour and aged for longer: normal Worcestershire Sauce is kept for 18 months, but this stuff matures for “up to” two years. Like the Marmite, it also comes with a heft price tag, in this case £3.35. (But then it comes in a 290ml bottle, almost double the size of a normal bottle, which sells for around £1.57 for 150ml, so the price difference is not actually significant. One would have though that such a precious tincture would actually come in smaller bottles than normal, but perhaps the manufacturers know that anyone likely to buy this product is probably some sort of addict who puts Worcestershire Sauce on everything that passes his lips.)

Apparently the sauce was created in the 1830s by Worcester chemists John Wheeley Lea* and William Henry Perrins at the behest of local Lord Sandys who wanted to revisit exciting tastes he had encountered on his travels to Bengal. The story goes that the two boffins were not very happy with their concoction, and just put the barrels aside and forgot about them. It was only when they rediscovered the experiment some months later that they found it had mellowed into the murky sweet-sour-salt blast that we know and love today. The label proudly claims that it “Brings food alive!” I don’t think I actually want the food on my plate to be brought to life: mealtimes would become quite traumatic if you had to chase your sausages around the room as they begged for mercy.

As usual the precise recipe is a closely guarded secret, but the ingredients in the Standard Edition are listed in this order: Malt vinegar (from barley), spirit vinegar, molasses, sugar, salt, anchovies, tamarind extract, onions, garlic, spice, flavouring. The Special Edition contains the same ingredients but in different proportions: Malt vinegar (from barley), molasses, spirit vinegar, sugar, salt, onions, tamarind extract, anchovies, garlic, spice, flavourings.

When I compared Marmite and Marmite XO I initially thought I could taste the distinct flavour of the new spread, but when I tasted them blind I eventually had to concede that I just couldn’t tell the two apart. Would I find the same with the tangy nectar from Messrs Lea and Perrins?

To look at they are pretty much impossible to distinguish (see photo below). But tasted neat—admittedly an odd thing to do—I believe there is a difference. Regular Worcestershire Sauce has a nose of caramel, gravy and fresh sawdust, plus an Angostura-like aromatic spiciness and a strong waft of oranges—like a crate (a wooden crate) of oranges that has been boiled right down into tar. This profile continues on to the palate, where it is joined by salt, molasses and a pepper heat.

The SE version essentially follows the same profile but is indeed more intensely flavoured. But on top of that I would say there is also a pronounced lime flavour which I don’t really detect (at least not to the same degree) in the original.

Of course there is a mixological significance to all of this, because Worcestershire Sauce is an important ingredient in a Bloody Mary, and related drinks like the Red Snapper, Bloody Maria, Bloody Caesar, etc. So I knocked up a couple of Red Snappers using Master of Malt’s curious Bathtub gin:

Red Snapper
2 shots gin
4 shots tomato juice
½ shot lemon juice
7 drops Tabasco sauce
4 dashes Worcestershire Sauce
Pinch of celery salt
Freshly ground black pepper

In case you can't tell, that's the SE on the left and original on the right

One drink was made with original Lea & Perrins, the other with the SE. Any difference? Actually, yes. Of course it is hard to know how much it has to do with subtle differences of proportion in the drinks, but it did seem to have a bit more presence and that limey edge that I detected neat (and which presumably comes from the tamarind). But at the same time I wonder if one could achieve much the same effect by just using more of the sauce in your recipe.

If you’re a Worcestershire Sauce fan and fancy the improved efficiency of a more concentrated dose, or tend to use the product in a way that showcases its subtleties (erm…) then give the SE a try. After all, who knows how long it will be around.**

* What kind of a parent calls their child Wheeley? Or perhaps it was just a nickname he picked from his BMXing days.
** I wouldn’t be surprised if someone buys up a batch and decides to barrel age it even further to see what happens. Years from now VIPs will be invited to gala events where guests are able to taste a rare bottle of the ethereal 2011 vintage…

Red vermouth showdown!

2011-10-07T08:47:00.000-07:00

DBS braces himself for the challenge of tasting 19 red vermouths

Our exhaustive blind tasting of dry white vermouths back in March has proved a continually popular post, attempting as it does to answer the question of how much difference the actual brand of vermouth makes in a Martini (and other cocktails too, but the Martini must surely be the quintessential dry vermouth drink, an obvious shibboleth and, arguably, the main reason for the liquid to exist*).

So it wasn’t long before DBS announced that he had corralled no fewer than 19 different red vermouths for a similar tasting. Red vermouth (or “Italian vermouth” as you will often find it in old cocktail books, referring to the bitter-sweet rosso style developed in Turin in the late 18th century) is based around wine, typically flavoured by infusion with various herbal and spice botanicals and fortified to around 14–17% alcohol by volume with spirit. It is not usually made from red wine, as I had always assumed, but is coloured primarily by the addition of caramel. It is invariably sweet, though often with a bitterness too—it’s part of that whole family of wines and spirits flavoured with bitter herbs that probably started as a medium for conveying and preserving the supposed medicinal benefits of the herbs. The classic bitter herb has to be wormwood, in its various strains, found in absinthe and also very much in vermouth; in fact in a recent lecture at the Boutique Bar Show, Jared Brown and Anastatia Miller (who were launching their new book on vermouth) informed us that the presence of wormwood was a defining characteristic—not unreasonably, considering that vermouth gets its name from German vermut, meaning wormwood. But red vermouths are flavoured with many other herbs and spices, citrus peel and sometimes cinchona bark too.

My (now patented) Vermouth Matrix

I don’t know that red vermouth has such an obvious quintessential cocktail as the Martini, though we went for two strong contenders, the Manhattan (in this case two parts rye whisky, one part red vermouth and a dash of Angostura) and the Negroni (equal parts gin, red vermouth and Campari).

So our tasting involved sampling all the different vermouths neat, then taking our short list and trying them in these two cocktails. So, in the order we tasted them…

1. Filipetti (15% ABV) A nose of vanilla, sandalwood, orange and perhaps cinnamon; quite pleasant though it smells surprisingly dry. On the palate, however, it is actually quite sweet, but not unpleasantly so; there is bitterness there too, and it’s pretty balanced.

2. Forteni Rosso (14.4% ABV) A more sour, dry nose, like biscuits or the sesame confection halva; a bit pungent. The palate is more bitter than the Filipetti, with a somewhat sour aftertaste. Not too bad overall, but less sophisticated than the Filipetti. We don’t know too much about the brand—it is one of DBS’s purchases from his regular trips across La Manche to Carrefour.

3. Dolin Chambery Vermouth (16% ABV) Dolin dry vermouth has found a place for itself in many bars and indeed it scored well in our own blind tasting. Their products are billed as “Chambery Vermouth”— vermouth from Chambery has AOC status, though Dolin are the last firm to be manufacturing it. This red one has a nose a bit like Coca Cola, almost leading you to expect it to be fizzy, plus a hint of ginger and something slightly “off” like decomposing seaweed. On the palate it is sticky, with a candied finish.

4. Sacred Organic Old English Spiced Red Vermouth (around 16–17% ABV) Shortly before conducting this tasting David and I had been lucky enough to visit Ian Hart’s Sacred microdistillery—which is basically a room in his house where he vacuum-distils a range of botanicals individually (after macerating the ingredients in neutral alcohol in his garden shed for sometimes weeks or months), then blends them into his Sacred Gin. But he was also considering other possibilities, such as making an absinthe and, as it turned out, vermouth. This pre-production sample was part of an attempt to make a very English vermouth, using local ingredients—this one had some 20 botanicals. It is indeed much redder than the more tawny-coloured first three samples. The nose is startlingly thyme-led, a very fresh and herbal attack. On the palate, the thyme again dominates and perhaps other woody, aromatic herbs, plus orange and sweetness. It apparently has elderberries in it, which might explain the colour, and tastes a bit like port infused with thyme. Compared to the previous samples, vanilla is notably absent.**

5. Carpano Antica Formula (16.5% AV) Carpano have been making vermouth since 1786 and this product is, I believe, a resurrection of an ancient recipe. It has been a big hit with bartenders (I’ve heard it described as a sort of universal ingredient that you just bung into everything to improve it). Since 2001 the company has been owned by Fratelli Branca, makers of Fernet Branca. Oddly the Antica Formula only comes in litre bottles, now at £30 a pop, and I was hesitant about stumping up that much for a vermouth, which one tends to use only in small doses but which has a habit of oxidizing after being open for a while. However, I ended up with the sample bottle from this tasting and I can confirm that, unlike most dry white vermouths, this one is not nearly so affected by oxidation, so it is safe to invest in a bottle. The nose is vinous and vanilla-led, and I also get chocolate, prunes and rum & raisin. The palate is complex and rich, with elements of chocolate and vanilla again, plus oranges and blueberries, yet all with a clean, bitter finish. Sophisticated and highly appealing.

6. Toso (14.8% ABV) The nose is sweetish, a bit like nougat, and you can sense the underlying wine base. The palate is mild and winey, a bit like grape juice. OK, but not very interesting.

7. Punt e Mes (16% ABV) Made by Carpano since 1870, when it was allegedly created when a customer, a stock exchange agent, asked for vermouth plus china bitters (presumably one part and half a part respectively, as the name means “point and a half”). Another story is that Carpano’s stock went up by a point and a half on the stock exchange and the company released the new vermouth to celebrate. The drink is a very dark red with a port-like and slightly sour nose and a palate that is strongly bitter, but (to me) pleasantly so. Hints of coffee (someone said Camp coffee), chocolate and anise, and something banana-esque too. Jared Brown describes it as like Antica Formula with a dash of Campari.

8. Dubonnet (14.8%ABV) Created in 1846 by a Paris chemist as a way to make anti-malarial quinine doses more palatable for French Foreign Legion troops, Dubonnet has had an international presence ever since. It has a fruity nose, “like Ribena” according to one, plus a rooty element, and perhaps a hint of dishcloth. The palate strikes me as surprisingly light, with flavours of carrot juice and grape juice. It seems sweet to me, and not especially bitter, but then we were tasting is after the Punt e Mes.

9. Casa Marteletti Vermouth Classico (16% ABV) The flagship of the Filipetti range, this vermouth has a subtle coffee/chocolate nose and a smooth, complex, sweetish palate, with definite notes of anise, menthol and coal tar; it doesn’t seem bitter to me but has a lingering dry, rooty, herbal aftertaste, probably from wormwood.

Ian Hart (far right) from Sacred, sees his product square up to the competition

10. Sacred Organic Old English Amber (ABV?) Another experiment: the subsequent production version has less thyme, but in this version the thyme if very dominant; a piney resinous nose with what I call in my notes a “see-though vividness”, which may come from the fact that it had been distilled that afternoon. (I kept a sample and I think that in time the thyme softens and integrates.) The palate is also strong, vivid and quite bitter; to me it seemed more “together” than the red version (no. 4 above), which had a “scooped” quality of pronounced bitter high note and sweet low note, but not quite enough glueing the two together in the middle. The amber reminds me of East European style bitter liqueurs, like becherovka, but without the sweetness.

11. Homemade (ABV?) David made this using the same recipe as in the dry vermouth tasting (a recipe from a booklet handed out by Plymouth gin), but using sweet (white) wine as a base, extra citrus and dark brown sugar instead of white. In my tasting notes, though, I record that it didn’t smell of much at all and had a watery palate, sweet with hints of orange and dusty spice, and none of the dominating clove power I recall from the dry white version. Not a great success.

Adam from Graphic mixes up some Manhattans

12. Byrrh (18% ABV) Another oldie, invented in 1886 in Perpignan by two brothers who were drapers by trade but, for some reason, wanted to make a quinine drink, which they initially sold through pharmacies as a health draught. It declined after the war but has recently been rising in popularity again. It has a nose of Ribena fruit and wood and, on the tongue, a drying, herbal, woody liveliness, subtly complex and evolving with a bitterness that grows on the finish. Made me want to try it mixed.

13. Stock (16% ABV) The Extra Dry version didn’t impress last time, and the tradition is carried on here. This sample had a nose of Bovril and Worcestershire sauce and a palate of Bovril and cheap ruby port, but with a really nasty, sour oxidized finish.

Robert Beckwith (l) and David Hollander assess a cocktail

14. Lillet Rouge (16% ABV) Not sure this really counts as a vermouth: I seem to recall that Lillet Blanc is a mixture of wine and citrus liqueurs, with the original quinine bitterness (it used to be called Kina Lillet) dispensed with in 1985. Lillet Rouge was created only in the 1960s for the US market. It has a similar strawberry nose to the blanc and a soft, quiet palate. I think this sample had been open a while as it was noticeably oxidized, but at the same time you could tell it was once quite balanced.

15. Vya (16% ABV) Made by the Quady Winery in Madera, California, this vermouth uses Orange Muscat wine as a base. It is a mid-tawny colour and has a concentrated blackcurrant nose with added herbaceous notes and a streak of Benylin. On the tongue I am reminded of coconut flesh plus a bitter-sweet berry flavour. It is well balanced and intriguing, though I am not sure I like it, exactly.

16. Noilly Pratt Rouge (16% ABV) Noilly Prat Extra Dry is my dry vermouth of choice so I was looking forward to tasting this sample of the red version, which is not distributed in the UK, its main market being the US. However, I was disappointed: in fact I suspect the sample was off, as it tasted rank, dry and thin, with a strong waft of fermenting bananas.

17. Bellino (13% ABV) Not sure where DBS got this but he concedes it is not really a vermouth, but a mixture of wine, grape juice and herbs (although it seems there certainly used to be a vermouth called Bellino, as the poster attests). It has a sweet candied nose of Parma violets. The palate is likewise tuckbox sweet, tasting of Refreshers (which also probably don’t exist any more). It tastes like something children pour over ice cream. Which is probably worth trying, especially if you want them to be quiet.

18. Martini Rosso (15% ABV) Surprisingly woody and dry on the nose, full of aromatic herbs, thyme in particular. Maybe I expected it to be more cloying but on the palate the sweetness is again well balanced with the strong herbaceous elements. I gather that it is made in steel vats to preserve the botanical flavours rather than influence them with oak. I found it sound in concept, albeit (tasted neat) a bit crude in execution, not as polished of smooth as some.

19. Cinzano Rosso (15% ABV) Allegedly invented in 1756 and therefore the original vermouth di Torino, Cinzano has the usual secret recipe (though one which includes thyme, marjoram and musk yarrow). The brand was early to export round the world, from the 1890s, but has never matched Martini’s success. After a stint owned by Diageo it is now in the hands of Gruppo Campari. On both the nose and the palate, it is remarkably similar to the Martini we had tasted just before, although the taste seemed to me sweeter with more vanilla and chocolate notes.

So, which of these 19 did we like best? In truth there was no clear winner, because different vermouths seemed to find favour in different contexts. For example, on its own Antica Formula and the Casa Marteletti scored highest while Byrrh and Punt e Mes were preferred in a Negroni. Martini was rated the best all-rounder, while Antica Formula made the best Manhattan, its sweet, vanilla, chocolate tones balancing well with the woody edge of the rye.

GOLD MEDAL
Carpano Antica Formula

SILVER MEDAL
Martini Rosso, Byrrh, Punt e Mes & Filipetti Casa Marteletti (joint)

I personally would say that Antica Formula probably emerged the victor, with Martini, Byrrh, Punt e Mes and Casa Marteletti al jostling for second place. I think that Antica Formula does indeed make a cracking Manhattan, but recently I have to admit that I’m not sure it’s the best choice for a Negroni—it seems it really is horses for courses. But if the only red vermouth you usually use is Martini Rosso, do check out the others in our top five.

* Of course you can drink dry vermouth on its own, but I don’t know anyone who does. When I was a student a friend and I spent an evening drinking a litre and a half of dry Martini vermouth and later regretted it.
** I met Ian again recently at the Boutique Bar Show and learned that he is now making three vermouths, but two of them are exclusively for Duke’s bar, who have cleared a number of their other vermouths to make way for him. The two samples tasted here did not make it into production, but descendants of them did, in practice with a lessened thyme presence.

The old ones are the best ones

2011-09-24T14:04:00.000-07:00

In my review of the new Handmade Cocktail Company range of ready-mixed, bottled cocktails from Master of Malt, I mentioned that there had clearly also been an Old Fashioned, but that the website listed it as out of stock. Almost as soon as I posted that, a bottle arrived from a new batch.

The drinks chosen for this range have all focused on the classics—whether to maximise recognition, to show just how well they could turbo-charge an established formula or simply because these tend to be spirit-heavy and therefore self-preserving—and it’s hard to get much more classic than this. Widely regarded as one of the oldest cocktails around, it was already being called an “old fashioned cocktail” by the late nineteenth century, to distinguish it from modern upstarts like the Manhattan and Martini, with their fancy vermouths. Apparently the first recorded use of the name was on the menu at the Pendennis Club in Louisville, Kentucky. An Old Fashioned is essentially a glass of whiskey with sugar and bitters. It is entirely possible that the sugar was there to soften the roughness of early whiskey and perhaps that the whiskey was there to make the medicinal bitters more palatable. (As is so often the case, drinkers developed a taste for the medicine—as with tonic water and probably most herbal drinks, including gin and absinthe).

The Handmade Cocktail Company version starts with a high-proof, nine-year-old rye-heavy bourbon (they won’t say which one), which is sweetened and augmented with a secret blend of bitters plus orange peel. It is bottled at 38.4% ABV in the same pleasingly squat, hefty and, yes, old-fashioned bottle as the rest of the range. You simply pour a slug into a glass over ice—though, as with the other drinks in the range, it also give you the chance just to keep the bottle in the freezer.

I have to say that, not having a sweet tooth myself, the Old Fashioned is not my favourite cocktail. And yet, as with the other drinks in this range, I instantly get a sense that this is a very polished and poised example of its kind; and once I’ve got used to the sweetness, I find it very easy to quaff. (In fact I see that I have already managed to drink half the bottle. Tum tee tum.) Moreover, I would add that the level of sweetness is entirely as it should be, balancing well with the fire of the bourbon. This cocktail has a wonderful perfume of wood (evoking old varnished wood, cigar box wood, fruit crate wood), fruit (both fresh and rich, dried fruit), plus keen, high aromatic notes from the bitters, yet all of it integrating so well that it is in fact hard to say which elements come from which ingredient. On the tongue it spreads softly and warmly and finishes with a marmalade and vanilla depth. The instructions suggest serving with a piece of squeezed orange peel, though I confess I never seem to have oranges in—unlike lemons and limes. In honour of Jerry Thomas’ recipe I try a lemon peel instead and it is jolly appealing, adding a refreshing zing to the drink (although, in combination with the sugar, also reminding me of Opal Fruits—or Starburst as you youngsters would know them). But I would add that I don’t think the drink actually needs a garnish at all.

If you’re a fan of the Old Fashioned and want to make sure you’ve tasted it at its best—or if you’ve tried it and didn’t think you liked it—I advise you to try this version.

The Handmade Cocktail Company’s Old Fashioned Cocktail is available from Master of Malt for £34.95 for a 70cl bottle.

A good blow for whisky lovers

2011-09-22T06:14:00.000-07:00

I received this little item recently from the Whisky Exchange as a bonus with an order—it’s a handkerchief printed with a single malt whisky flavour map! Just the thing for an evening spent drinking whisky and taking snuff, I would have thought.

I don’t know what you have to do to get one, as they don’t appear to be for sale. But perhaps if you ask nicely…

Draughts from the Windy City

2011-09-21T16:34:00.000-07:00

Our last Candlelight Club event looked at Chicago during Prohibition so I set about tinkering with a menu of appropriate beverages.

I must say, I hadn’t realised just how corrupt the city was in those days. Al Capone apparently spent some $75 million on bribery, with the result that some of his speakeasies didn’t need to disguise the fact that they served alcohol. From 1927 even the city mayor was in his pay. At one point the Chief of Police admitted that half of his men were actively engaged in bootlegging themselves. There was a magazine called The Chicagoan, now little known but then intended as the equivalent of The New Yorker, and I’ve been looking at a copy from 2nd July 1927: not only does Prohibition and bootlegging feature quite heavily but it seems defensive, almost proud of the local hoods:

Chicago is the present capitol of large-scale bootlegging, her bootleggers the merchant princes of the profession… Any good bootleg office should guarantee a loop delivery in 30 minutes. Good firms usually scorn to adulterate their wares. They attempt to win and hold patronage by solid merchandising value… “Hell,” as one explained to this investigator, “we got no kick coming. Our business is gettin’ better and better. We’re all making money. Everybody’s happy!”

Al Capone

So what are some quintessentially Chicagoan cocktails? I guess we’d have to start with the Chicago Cocktail. No one seems to know where or how it came into existence but it was apparently being served under that name before Prohibition at New York’s Waldorf-Astoria as an import from the Windy City.

Chicago Cocktail
2 shots brandy
2 dashes of bitters (presumably Angostura)
Curaçao (somewhere ¼ and 1 tsp)
Sometimes a few dashes of gomme
Champagne to top

Also known as a Fancy Brandy Cocktail, this goes back to the dawn of mixology where the idea seems just to prettify the base spirit with sweetness and some aromatic high harmonics. It is also essentially a Champagne Cocktail with curaçao and different proportions. It is sometimes shaken and strained and sometimes served on the rocks. I have found one reference (Robert Vermere’s Cocktails: How to Mix Them) to its being improved with a dash of absinthe—but then isn’t everything? Being familiar with the Champage Cocktail I had a feeling that this version would be too heavy on the brandy, but in fact it works very well, and feels agreeably rich and decadent.

Chicago Fizz
1 shot rum (light or dark, depending on whom you believe)
1 shot port
Juice of half a lemon (about 1 shot)
1 egg white
1 tsp powdered sugar
Soda water to top
Shake all ingredients except soda, first without ice, then with ice, and strain. Top with soda water.

Again I can’t find any story for this drink but a fizz (or fiz as Jerry Thomas spells it) goes back to the nineteenth century and can be made with any base spirit. I’ve heard a tip that, with egg white recipes, you should dry-shake the ingredients together before adding ice, to give the egg a chance to whip up a good consistency; but certainly with this recipe you just get too much of a foamy head that way. I was using pasteurised egg white in cartons and found that half a measure was fine. It’s an intriguing recipe that works better than it sounds it will—the egg adds a silky texture but the whole is refreshing, with a sweet/sour vinous element from the port, and pleasantly pink.

Cohasset Punch
1½ shots dark rum (only Martha Stewart suggests light rum)
1 shot vermouth (recipes are evenly split between sweet and dry)
Juice of half a lemon (about 1 shot)
½ shot Grand Marnier (optional; triple sec is also worth trying)
½ shot syrup from a tin of peaches
Put half a tinned peach in a Champagne glass, half fill with shaved ice, shake the liquid ingredients and strain into the glass.

Odd that this definitive Chicago cocktail should be named after the town of Cohasset in Massachusetts. The story goes that William H. Crane, a very successful actor in of the late nineteenth century, was doing well enough to throw fancy parties at his summer house in Cohasset. Having played a long run at Chicago’s Hooley Theatre Crane brought one of the city’s better bartenders, Gus Williams, out to his next party to do the mixing. Williams came up with this drink and it was so successful he put it on the menu at his own place, Williams & Newman, in Chicago. In 1916 he retired and sold the recipe to the Ladner Brothers, whose saloon was then decorated with a neon sign proclaiming the “Home of the Cohasset Punch”.

The classic recipe doesn’t have the Grand Marnier—that was added by Wall Street Journal writer Eric Felton, I think. My own experiments have found that the syrup in tins or peaches round here doesn’t really taste of much—neither peaches nor syrup—so I tried replacing it with Monin commercial peach syrup or crème de pêche, which works much better. I think I slightly prefer it with dry vermouth. I’m not sure what the drinker is supposed to do with half a peach in their glass, so I replaced this with a couple of slices.

Southside
2 shots gin
1 shot lemon juice
½ shot gomme syrup
Half a dozen mint leaves
Muddle the mint in the bottom of the shaker then add the other ingredients, shake and strain.

Essentially a Gin Collins with mint. The story goes that, served over crushed ice, this was the beverage of choice for Chicago’s Southside gangsters, while the Northside crew preferred to take their gin with ginger ale. How it thence came to be the house drink at Manhattan’s 21 Club and later a staple of summer in the Hamptons, I do not know: Eric Felton (see above) pooh-poohs the origin myth and believes it was more likely invented at the exclusive Southside Sportsmen’s Club on Long Island itself. I was surprised how strong a presence the mint has if pummelled in this way, making for a delightfully fresh cocktail.

A Chicago speakeasy, apparently

Back in the day, Chicago was full of speakeasies. Many of them would have a legitimate business on the ground floor: Club Lucky was a hardware store, Emmit’s was a bank, John Barleycorn’s was a Chinese laundry, with booze carted in covered by dirty linen. The drinking went on in an upstairs room or in the basement. Emmit’s and Halligan came complete with escape tunnels. At least 30 of these places are still bars, but there are also new cocktail bars seeking to revive the spirit of the cocktail age, such as The Violet Hour. So I adapted one of the drinks from their list. They don’t reveal their recipes, but here is my version inspired by The Blinker.

The Violet Hour
2 shots bourbon
2 shots grapefruit juice
1 shot Chambord or crème de framboise
2 dashes grapefruit bitters
Shake and strain.

It’s an intriguing drink because it is very fruity, but refreshingly bitter-sweet because of the grapefruit juice. I was much taken with it, though one of our barmen, as he handed me one, sniffed, “It’s not my favourite from the list…” Clearly the grapefruit sharpness will divide drinkers.

One other I considered for our party is a well established drink called a Godfather, essentially a mixture of Scotch whisky and amaretto. Proportions vary but I think 2½ Scotch to 1 amaretto is about right. I did find one passing reference to the idea of adding a dash of absinthe, which actually works very well, so I’ve included the recipe and adjusted the name to reflect this:

The Godfather, Part 2
2½ shots Scotch
1 shot amaretto
Dash absinthe
Build on the rocks. I tried it with Islay malt whisky, thinking the smokiness might evoke gunsmoke, but it’s actually quite horrible—the iodine peatiness quarrels with the amaretto. This works better with blended whisky.

So here is a list that we can justify as Chicago-related. But do they drink these in Chicago? The Cohasset Punch was definitely served at Ladner’s until its demise in the 1980s, and it was even sold as a bottled premix. As for the others, in 1931 John Drury wrote Dining in Chicago and lists a number of locally popular cocktails: but he doesn’t suggest people were drinking the ones mentioned so far, and doesn't mention the Southside at all. He does reference:

The Gilbert To one jigger of Gordon gin, add one-half jigger of French vermouth and one-half jigger of Italian vermouth, a touch of Absinthe, and strain into cocktail glass. Concocted by Paul Gilbert, of the Chicago Evening Post, and a favorite of Ring Lardner, when both rested their weary reportorial feet on the brass rail at Stillson's.

The Pink Lady To one jigger of Gin, add orange syrup to color, a dash of Apollinaris, and one-half a lime. Ice, stir well, and serve. Another Paul Gilbert creation, now become a standard cocktail. Said to be Walter Winchell's favorite.

The Ticonderoga To one jigger of Dubonnet, add a dash of Italian vermouth, a dash of Grenadine and a touch of lemon. Emil Rutz, manager of the extinct Vogelsang's, concocted this—and the Loophounds liked it.

The Martini Into a shaker half-filled with cracked ice, pour two-thirds of a wine glass of Gordon Gin, one-half wine glass Italian Vermouth, and add a dash of Orange Bitters. Shake well, and serve with a piece of orange peel or an olive.

The Mission To two-thirds Gordon Gin, add one-third French Vermouth; stir well and strain into cocktail glass into which a stuffed olive has been placed. This was a great attraction to the boys at the old Mission Bar in West Madison Street before Mr. Volstead appeared.

So this is what Chicagoans were actually drinking in 1931, though obviously the “Mission” is closer to the Martini as most of us understand it today.

And if you want some modern day verité, the Chicago edition of foodie site The Tasting Table offered this selection of the city’s best contemporary cocktails last year.

Pash-ion For Vodka #9 - Babicka Wormwood Vodka

2011-09-13T02:25:00.000-07:00

I picked up my sample of Babička at a recent London Barshow—having tasted it at the stand I knew it was something I wanted to write about. Hartley and I tried a Wormwood distillate at the Sacred Distillery and were taken with how much of the flavour of absinthe the distillate had. So naturally a wormwood vodka is of similar interest.

Babička is from Czech Republica and takes its name from a 16th-century word from the country: these were old wise women or "grandmothers" known for their healing herbal remedies and use of witchcraft.

The vodka uses 100% Moravian corn as its base spirit

Own:
Nose: Herbal nose, with hints of fennel, star anise and wormwood. Some other woody elements and a little menthol
Taste: Very smooth, and then the flavour comes, herbally complex with a sweetness akin to a cough draught and a little aftertaste of rosehip sweets or Barratt's Fruit Salad chews. Very tasty.

Frozen:
Slightly syrupy and pleasantly viscous, nose subdued a little sage and a tiny berry note. The taste is subdued but the woody menthol notes are still there, with a green herb and red berry finish. A bit different but a definite quality to the flavour and to the product in general. My preference would be at room temperature.

Martini:
Rather nice, quite bitter and pleasantly crisp. Touch of Cinnamon Very smooth and completely unique. Superb.

Gin Mare: a gin you can't refuse

2011-09-05T06:33:00.000-07:00

As the fad continues for producing “gins” that include allmanner of bizarre flavours, Gin Mare, behind which a fair amount of marketingclout seems to have been put, looks like a bold move. In addition to juniper,coriander, cardamom and citrus peel (lemon plus both bitter and sweet oranges),we have thyme, basil, rosemary and olives. The idea is to create aself-consciously Mediterranean gin, something that denizens of that region willembrace as their own. (The name comes from the concept of Mare Nostra, “Our Sea”. Spain is a huge gin market so you can seethe logic.)

Fortunately they allow us Brits to drink the stuff too. Thebottle is striking, with an olive-leaf pattern prominent on the front alongwith the phrase “Colección de autor”. Some marketing bumf I’ve seen attempts to translate this, rather bafflingly, as “author’s collection”. I speakno Spanish, so I don’t know if they are getting at something artisanal here, aproduct created by craftsmen, or if it means the creation of an visionaryauteur: it is, apparently, “the vision of a new generation of a family with along tradition of distilling high quality spirits”. So, both traditional and innovativeat the same time, conveniently.

The blue and white shades of the bottle represent the skyand the clouds, the sea and the surf. The bold cap covers the whole neck and forms a handy 50ml measure. Itstop is struck like a classical medallion and there are four vanes on the sidethat apparently represent the four Mediterranean botanicals (the basil is fromItaly, the thyme from Turkey, the Rosemary from Greece and the Arbequina olives—theonly olives to have their own DOC category—from Spain, though in fact thecitrus also comes from Spain and the juniper is, they say, harvested on theirown farms, so I assume that is Spanish too). But to me the bottle cap has aFuturist architectural quality and reminds me of Mussolini’s Fascist EuR development in Rome.*

The product was launched in February 2010 and thepromotional literature shows that it was born as a titanic marketing exercise,attempting to encapsulate a relaxed Mediterranean lifestyle, a warm climate, anative love of gastronomy and a sense of escape. (This last one seems atodds—if you’re a native of the Med, surely you’re not escaping there? It’s onlyus pasty Brits who try that.) There are photos of beautiful people dressed inminimalist white and scenes of what Mount Olympus would look like if it were aclub on Ibiza.

Typical Gin Mare consumers: these people are so relaxed they have forgotten
to build the rest of their house

But a lot of thought and effort have gone into the producttoo. All the botanicals are distilled separately (something I used to thinkonly Ian Hart of Sacred did, but one hears of it more and more). Whereas mostgins macerate their botanicals all together for about 24 hours, Gin Marebotanicals are steeped for varying times—from 36 hours for the olives up to ayear for the citrus peel. At a tasting at Graphic in March we were told that the reason for the separate distillations is that theolive distillate varies a lot in heaviness and flavour, so this way they cankeep the balance consistent. The distillates are hand blended and the finishedproduct is bottled at 42.7% ABV.

That Futurist bottle cap

As if terroir, tradition and technique weren’t enough, themanufacturers have hedged their bets even further by erecting the still in an18th-century chapel that was dismantled brick by brick and reassembled in itscurrent location in an old fishing village between the Costa Brava and theCosta Dorada, presumably to make sure that God is also on their side.

So many New Gins seem to play down the juniper aspect andadd sweet, floral notes, apparently to woo punters who perhaps are ripe to likethe idea of gin, but fundamentally don’t like the taste (especially women, atwhom some brands are specifically aimed). Gin Mare is, when you unscrew thecap, clearly gin—the juniper hits you first. But then there is obviouslysomething floral, smooth and sweet going on too. On the palate I get somethinglike cinnamon, warm and rich, and then there is the olive, quite noticeably,plus the woody, aromatic thyme and rosemary elements. This is the fascinatingthing about Gin Mare, the way it manages to present sweet, smooth, floralqualities yet avoids ending up cloying like many modern gins, and somehowsuccessfully marrying this with a distinct saltiness from the olives and thedry, savoury, resinous elements of the herbs too.

In a G&T this character remains pronounced, with both adistinctive herbaceous quality and a silky smooth mouthfeel. At the Graphic tasting we had our wrists slapped over the idea ofgarnishing the drink with lemon or lime (despite the fact that citrus is aningredient) on the ground that they would overpower the flavours: instead weshould use rosemary, thyme, basil or mint. In a Martini one should use anolive.**

I tried the gin in a few other classic cocktails:

Martinez (2 partsGin Mare, 1 part Carpano Antica Formula red vermouth, 1–2 tsp maraschino, dashof Angostura bitters) Cracking. The herbaceous flavours of the gin marry well withthe vermouth and balance nicely with the fruity sweetness of the maraschino.

Negroni (equalparts Gin Mare, Carpano Antica Formula red vermouth, Campari)

With Antica Formula this makes a warm, chocolately Negroni,with the sweet fragrance of the gin and the prominent vanilla of the vermouthcreating a smooth feather-pillow for your tongue; but then there is thatbitterness at the end, from both the vermouth and the Campari. Not sure it’sthe very best Negroni I’ve had—perhaps it wants the steely juniper note in moreconventional gins.

Dirty Martini (4parts Gin Mare to 1 part dry vermouth, plus about ½ tsp of olive brine) Itseemed an obvious thing to try and, as you might imagine, it works verywell—although you are really just adding more of the salty olive character thatis already there. Nevertheless it does emphasise the effectiveness of the botanicalcombination in the gin.

Graphic bar manager Sarah Mitchell with Duncan Hayter
from Gin Mare at the event in March

Gimlet (2½ partsGin Mare and ¾ part lime cordial) Balances in a surprising manner—it brings outthe floral character in the gin, though the savoury, salty qualities are stillin there too. The warm, spicy elements poke through clearly. In fact in aninteresting way this cocktail spotlights the complex balancing act that GinMare attempts—and for my money by and large achieves—though I sense it might bea love-it-or-hate-it thing for most people.

Gibson (A dryMartini with one or two cocktail onions as garnish) Having quite a savourytooth I do like this cocktail and I figured that a gin with so many savouryelements as Gin Mare would work well. But I’m not sure I was right: in contextGin Mare came up with some surprising sweet elements that seemed to jar withthe sulphurous allium flavour of the onion (reminding me a bit of sweet-pickledherring). It makes you realise that the dominant herbaceous notes aren’t as savouryas they seem.

Red Snapper (2parts Gin Mare, 4 parts tomato juice, ½ part lemon or lime juice, Tabasco,Worcestershire sauce, black pepper, celery salt) Likewise an obviously savourycocktail (and one of the few classic cocktails that sits easily with theextraordinarily savoury Aviation gin). And it was pretty good, yet again itdidn’t work as neatly as I would have assumed. In this savoury, almost meatycontext, Gin Mare showed itself to be more floral and sweet than I had thought.And I am reminded just how powerfully flavoured it is: this is a muscularcocktail context, with the acids of the tomato and lemon and the chilli andpepper heat, yet the Gin Mare immediately pushed its flavour profile through.

Aviation (2 partsGin Mare, ½ part maraschino, ½ part lemon juice, ¼ part crème de violette) Asgin shorts go this is relatively fruity/floral, so I didn’t expect it to workbut I was wrong. This sort of cocktail, perhaps like the Gimlet, showed thatGin Mare actually has a strong floral perfume, that in this case sits quitehappily with the violet and cherry flavours.

I’ve now nearly finished my bottle of Gin Mare in myexperimentations, which is in itself a sign. The strong thyme, rosemary, basiland olive elements are impossible to ignore, yet this would make the gin soundlike food, and as it turns out it is not that savoury as a mixer. It works wellin combinations with a floral/fruity character. Forcefully characterful, it maywell divide and perplex drinkers, but I still find myself fascinated by it.

Gin Mare can be hadfor about £34 a bottle (or £42 if you buy it from Harvey Nicks).

* See m’colleague’s recent review of Adler gin from Munich:adler means “eagle”, but it is reminiscent of the Adlerhorst, Hitler’s “Eagle’s Nest” mountain hideaway. So if Adleris “Hitler’s gin” then perhaps Gin Mare can be “Mussolini’s gin”. I believethat Churchill was partial to Plymouth in his Martinis. So, what would be Roosevelt’sand Stalin’s gins, I wonder..?

** This whole business of garnishes sometimes seems a bitpointless to me. Granted that nothing you can do to the constituent liquidswill create the same effect as squeezing the oil from a strip of lemon rind onto the surface of your Martini, but many prescribed garnishes leave methinking, If you believe your gin needsthat extra element of grapefruit/basil/raw beef or whatever, why not just addthat flavour when you distil it and serve it without a garnish? Much of itis just gimmickry, methinks.

Is there a "Scottish" gin style?

2011-09-01T04:58:00.000-07:00

The gang gather at Graphic in London's Golden Square

It hadn’t escaped DBS that there were an increasing number of gins coming out of Scotland these days, joining the juggernaut that is Hendrick’s, made by William Grant of whisky-making distinction (for more on that gin, see our previous review). So last week a posse of ginthusiasts assembled at Graphic for a blind tasting of some dozen spirits that were linked only by the fact that they are all made north of the border. You could argue (and some did) that “Scottish gin” is not a recognised style—although this is something David wanted to put to the test. But even if it is not, comparative tastings usually shed some useful light.

So to cut to the chase, here are my notes (bearing in mind that at the time we did not know what the samples were). Each gin was sampled on its own and with tonic (and sometimes just with water).

1. Old Raj Red (46%) Notwithstanding the blindness of the tasting, this was immediately recognisable as one of the two Old Raj samples, because of its colour—faintly yellow, as a result of the saffron that is infused post-distillation (by the company chairman himself, apparently). It had a sweet, fruity nose with a hint of blackcurrant, it seemed, and a silky mouthfeel. A classy heft to it. Made a pretty well balanced G&T (though for my money the best use of Old Raj is in a Martini).

2. Edinburgh A nettly, slightly pungent nose with perhaps a hint of smoky rubber. The palate was dry but with a definite hint of banana. It worked better in a G&T but still there was that banana element, which I didn’t like at all. Bit sweet.

3. Cadenhead Classic More juniper-led than perhaps any of the others; quite traditional in its come-on. Has an underlying perfume but also a hint of allium, or something else savoury. The palate is dry but with a “dry sugar” botanical flavour. Marries very well with tonic in a classic way. A classy example of a conventional conception of gin.

The blind samples in their numbered bottles

4. Hendrick’s 41.4% Nose seems dominated by citrus, orange in particular, with a sweetish palate. [Odd that I wasn’t struck by rose or cucumber, the signature botanicals of Hendrick’s.]

5. Caorunn May be my imagination but it seems almost to have a greenish tint to it. Pencil juniper on the nose, then citrus, then coriander, then a warm bottom note, more or less in that order. The palate is fairly balanced but a bit sweet, and with an interesting aftertaste, the sweetness joined by a lingering vegetal flavour. Quite fiery too, despite that sweetness. Add tonic, though, and it falls apart slightly, actually becomes a bit crude.

6. Hendrick’s 44% Nose of citrus but also something sappy and herbal. Hint of coal tar. Palate is balanced; smooth but not over-sweet. Nice orange/aromatic finish.

7. The Botanist The nose is a bit like a less subtle version of No.6. Has a definite “green” note. Palate seems a bit flat. With tonic it seems a bit crude and heavy-handed compared to some of the others.

8. Boe A dry, herbaceous nose of thyme or lavender, and a light, balanced palate showing poise. Add tonic and citrus emerges. Quite interesting though I suspect the floral/lavender element might get a bit cloying to me after a while.

9. Old Raj Blue (55%) Yellowish, so clearly the other Old Raj. A bit hard to get a handle on neat, because the high strength keeps some of the flavour elements bottled, but with tonic it becomes smooth, floral and perfumed, with a bit of ginger.

10. Darnley’s View A floral nose but just edging towards rancid plasticene. A fruity palate but surprisingly dry after that overmellow flowery nose.

11. Hammer A dry nose led by juniper and orange. Palate is dry too but quite balanced, though ultimately rather low key; which is perhaps the idea. [This isn’t a Scottish gin at all—it’s made in Norway—but David included it as a sort of control or touchstone, because it sells itself as a London Dry Gin; but I wasn’t struck by its standing out from the overwhelming “Scottishness” of the other samples. In fact for me the one that stood out as a more classic style was Cadenhead Classic.]

12. Blackwood’s, 2008 A nose or spearmint chews and lemon and lime. Light and dry on the palate with a pleasant lemony aromatic quality. As a G&T it works rather well, the lean, lemon notes sitting comfortably with similar qualities in the tonic water.

My favourites? Knowing what Nos 1 and 9 were, and therefore lumping them together, I would say that my top three were 1/9, 3 and 6, which is to say Old Raj (in both formulations), Cadenhead Classic and Hendrick’s 44%. It’s hard to say what order I’d put them in but probably the Old Raj (made by Cadenhead) and the Cadenhead Classic would vie for top spot—meaning that the Cadenhead distillery is probably where I should go and live.

Overall as a group we voted Hendricks 44% into first place, followed by Old Raj Blue (55%) in second, Hendrick’s 41.4% in third, Old Raj Red (46%) in fourth and Cadenhead Classic in fifth, which is broadly consistent with my own conclusions.

GOLD MEDAL
Hendrick's (US export, 44%)

SILVER MEDAL
Old Raj Blue (55%)

BRONZE MEDAL
Hendrick's (UK version, 41.4%)

Is there a “Scottish style”? Some of the gins play on their Scottishness in terms of presentation and ingredients—many include heather, The Botanist includes a whopping 31 botanicals all of which grow naturally on the island of Islay where it is made, and Blackwood’s make a big deal of how their botanicals are hand-picked on Shetland in a particular season (though don’t actually state that all the botanicals come from there, any more than all the Botanist ones come from Islay). But it’s telling that our top five in the blind tasting don’t really fall into that category: the Cadenhead gins are fairly classic (with the saffron being not very Scottish at all) while Hendrick’s key ingredients are rose essence from Bulgaria and cucumber essence from the Netherlands.

Tonic Water Update

2011-08-31T05:37:00.000-07:00

Out second batch of tonics for tasting

Perhaps it was inevitable that the surge of interest in gin would be accompanied by a rash of new tonic waters. Further to our blind tasting on which I have posted before, we have had the chance to sample a few more.

DBS returned from a trip to Calais armed with a bunch of new tonic waters, some of them only available on the other side of La Manche, and we had a quick analysis of a dozen that had escaped us before, including some artisanal syrups/concentrates:
Look Tonic An exclusively French offering, I think. A sharp vervey tonic, light and sharp, and quite nice, though perhaps with some gins it slightly leaves a hole in the middle.
Tesco Finest Indian Tonic Water Very soft, with a sophisticated feel to it. With gin it is subtle and reveals SW4 quite well, though perhaps is a touch sweet for me. Mind you, on its own this is probably my favourite of the lot—so when my liver finally packs up and I’m forced to exist on soft drinks alone, this is what I’ll be sipping on in the corner.
Hartridge’s Very fizzy and limey. As a mixer it’s too soft and sweet, and actually a bit stomach-turning.
Heritage Indian Tonic Has an odd taste of carrots. Rather teeth-coating feel to it.
Waitrose Essential Tonic Water Fizzy and lemony, but a bit synthetic-tasting.
Fevertree Mediterranean An unexpected floral nose, like rose, perhaps. As a mixer I feel it has a bit too much going on in the middle, just as I sometimes feel about standard Fevertree.
Tonic by Carrefour Pretty neutral. OK with gin, though a bit sweet.
Hartridge’s Low Calorie Tooth-coating nastiness.
Schweppes Our control, and still a good benchmark.
Esprit de Schweppes Another French exclusive, it seems. The label says “moins amer” and “plus léger”, but to me it actually seems as if they’ve stripped out much of the sugar, leaving quinine and a bit of citrus, making it actually more bitter than most. I find this rather appealing—as if it really is stripping things back to the essence of what tonic water should be about.
Tom’s Tonic Syrup Weird, savoury, rooty smell, with citrus and dusty, earthy spice. With gin it comes across as strongly gingery with a strong bitter aftertaste. Not unpleasant, exactly, but rather too busy to be of much use in my mind.
John’s Tonic Syrup Very bitter, plus citrus peel and what tastes like quite a bit of cinnamon.

Out of all of these, the most interesting was the Esprit de Schweppes, though Tesco’s Finest probably scores as the nicest to drink on its own. But of course the real point of tonic water is as a mixer, and I find I veer away from very complex examples—God knows, many contemporary gins are complex enough, and I seek a tonic water that acts primarily as a platform for the gin to show what it’s got. The more busy tonics, such as both types of Fevertree and especially Fentiman’s, might work well with a very simple, juniper-dominated gin, but all the mid-range spice tends to quarrel with a lot of gins.

1724 tonic water

Since that tasting I have come across two more, very promising tonics. One was given to me by Chris Goulbourne of 10 Degrees C: it’s called 1724, and is named after the height above sea level where the quinine is harvested. It’s made in Argentina and I do not think it is distributed in the UK yet, but pray that it will be, as it’s the best tonic I’ve tasted to date.

South America is, of course, where quinine comes from, but Chris tells me that moreover the continent has a long-standing tonic water style that is different from that typically enjoyed in the UK. He explains that the ingredients are carefully selected, the water for its purity, the plants are organic, etc. I can’t find much of this on the website (which, oddly, has Spanish headings on the English language version and vice versa), only lifestyle marketing guff. But the tonic itself does somehow taste fresh and real, leaving others seeming rather synthetic. It has something in common with Esprit de Schweppes, in that it is light, sharp and clean, leaving a blank canvas for the gin to express itself. But I’d say it had a defter, more sophisticated palate, almost an extra subtle dimension to it.

One final tonic water is Thomas Henry, a sample of which DBS gave me recently. Despite its English-sounding name it actually hails from Germany. To me it has a lot in common with 1724, with a sharp, clean taste that frames gin well. In the fact the marketing makes it clear that all Thomas Henry products are strikingly bitter, which they see as an “intense and mature” flavour profile.

Admittedly I have whatever you would call the opposite of a sweet tooth, so these tonics may not be to all tastes. But I do think that they would partner well with the current generation of gins that are rich, spicy and perfumed, and particularly those that have more of a sweetish profile, such as G’Vine or Adnam’s Copper House Distilled Gin (not that I’ve tried these combinations yet—if I can get my hands on a supply of 1724 I certainly will).

1724 tonic water is rigorously tested against Schweppes with a range of gins

Pash-ion for Vodka #8 - Stolichnaya Gala Apple

2011-08-30T14:49:00.000-07:00

Readers of the New Sheridan Club newsletter will be aware of my fondness for the vodka brand Stolichnaya, whether it be the Red (40%), the Blue Export (50%), which is perfect for making a Vesper, or the superb and excellent value-for-money Stolichnaya Gold.
Stolichnaya also make a range of flavoured vodkas. My old favourite, Stolichnaya Kafya (coffee), is no longer made, and so today I shall be looking at something new: Stolichnaya Gala Applik.

This new vodka is flavoured with Gala Apples* and is bottled at 37.5% ABV.

The Taste

Room TemperatureImmediate taste of the apple; quite crisp, with the sweetness that comes from the apple's flesh. A little jamminess, similar to apple chutney or sauce. Smooth, with some warmth at the end.

From the FreezerLovely viscosity and texture, being bitingly cold. Smooth & tingly at the same time. The taste of sweet apple comes through well, with a long finish.

Martini
Smooth and crisp to start, then a little herbal vermouth, before a finish of ripe, juicy apple. Like an appletini, but far more subtle and sophisticated.

Stoli Applik Martini (from the bottle label)
1 part Stolichnaya Gala Applik
1 part apple juice
½ part cranberry juiceSHAKE
A pleasant light pink fresh rosiness of the apple still there and is slightly freshened by the juice the cranberry adds some bite and balance. Not my usual tipple but quite good.

Stolichnaya Elit

I also got a chance to re-try "Elit by Stolichnaya" (Stolichnaya Elit), the jewel in the crown of the Stolichnaya Range.

The emphasis is on the vodka being a clean and pure spirit and this is achieved by blending the product of the distillation with balanced water and then filtering it three times. During this, the Elit is held in a tank at -18°C (-4°F). The idea being that, as the liquid's density increases, the impurities freeze to the side of the tank.** After this cooling period the vodka is then filtered another two times.

I have tried Stolicynaya Elit before, and those who attended my Martini talk a while back may remember the story. I had it in a bar near London Wall from a lady who had never mixed a Martini before. I told her my preference of ratio (5:1) and she vigorously shook the drink. It is easily in my top three Martinis ever and is probably my favourite; every sip was as superb as the one previous and, as I left, I still had a beautifully cool feeling in my chest, a feeling that lasted for about an hour. A memorable and lovely experience.

This time around, I enjoyed the Elit straight from the freezer and sipped it from a small chilled glass. Once again, I was impressed at how smooth and pure it was, but also that it still had some texture and a light grain flavour; it had a superb balance of smoothness and flavour and is a really good vodka.

Stolichnaya Gala Applik is available for around £19 for 70cl from The Whisky ExchangeElit by Stolichnaya is avaialble for around £45 for 70cl from The Whisky Exchange

* My favourite type of apple.
** This is a method thought to have been used in the day of the Tsars, but, rather than a metal tank, they would use oak barrels in the snow.

Ready-mixed cocktails redeemed?

2011-08-10T04:34:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed that DBS has rather an obsession with pre-mixed cocktails. It’s not something I share, mainly because the premixes I have tasted tend not to be very good. (At Distil we came across a new range where the components of the cocktail are stored in separate compartments within a complex piece of plastic packaging: to serve you twist or pull it in a particular way, seals are pierced and the various pods disgorge their contents into a central chamber which then serves as a shaker. The fact that the ingredients were not actually mixed until the last minute was supposed to be a selling point, but the chap pointed out that, in the example of the Margarita we were trying, the lime juice had to have a certain amount of the tequila already in it, as a preservative, so it wasn’t really freshly mixed anyway. The end result wasn’t up to much.)

So I didn’t approach the new range of premixes from the Handmade Cocktail Company, a wing of Master of Malt, with any great expectations. But I was very pleasantly surprised.

They’ve chosen five* classic cocktails—Gin Martini, Manhattan, Rob Roy, Negroni and a fifth which is currently variously named the “ “ Cocktail, or The World's Best Cocktail. In fact it is a Sazerac (as the label on earlier bottlings attests), but apparently they have been leant on not to use the name, as it is owned, presumably by Sazerac rye. The mixes are handsomely presented in 70cl glass bottles that resemble those used by Sipsmith. I was sent a couple of sample packs of 30ml bottles, so I experimented with serving one dose of each cocktail stirred or shaken with ice, and the other straight from the freezer—something made possible by having a drink premixed like this.

I don’t know what proportions they use for their Martini but the vermouth certainly makes its presence felt. The ingredients are referred to only as “premium copper pot still gin” and “the very best dry vermouth” but I believe the gin is No.3 and the vermouth is Noilly Prat. Stirred with ice it immediately hits you with a fruity orange nose (No.3 does indeed have prominent sweet orange among its botanicals), followed by a smooth palate with a savoury, almost salty element (as if there were a dash of olive brine in the mix). There is a hint of vanilla ice cream in there too. Straight from the freezer the strong orange citrus note is there again but balanced by juniper. The palate is drier and again the juniper is more noticeable served this way. It’s punchy but complex too. Some experts feel that a Martini needs the dilution you get from shaking it with ice, but based on this experiment I would say that this premix certainly doesn’t and indeed more of the flavours seem to come across neat from the freezer.

The manufacturers point out that one advantage of premixing is that the more delicate ingredients, such as vermouth, are added when at their freshest and then preserved by the alcohol in the base spirit. I’m certainly dogged by oxidation in vermouth, which yields a sour whiff and happens within days of opening the bottle, even if you keep it in the fridge (it affects dry vermouth more than heavier, sweeter styles). They told me also that interesting things happen in the bottle after mixing and a six-month-old mix of theirs has beaten a freshly made Martini in a blind taste.

Another benefit of the premix is that you can get more complicated with your blend than a normal person would be able to if making the drink at home. The Rob Roy is made from a single malt whisky, matured in sherry casks, plus a blend of three vermouths and bitters. The Rob Roy isn’t my favourite cocktail (there is something about the initial smell of the combination of the vermouth and the Scotch that reminds me slightly of vomit—sorry to lower the tone, but there it is), but I have to say that this example makes a damned good a case for it. Stirred over ice it is smooth and soft on the tongue, slightly caramelly, and the subtle aromatic qualities of the bitters are clearly exposed. From the freezer the drink is noticeably cloudy and has swirls of matter in it. It is strikingly different in the mouth, stronger and seemingly sweeter too. The whisky seems more prominent and the bitters less so (but then aromatic elements do often come to the fore as you lower the ABV with water). But either way this is a very good cocktail, balancing the woody, peaty, smoky elements of the whisky with the bitter-sweetness and aromatic herbal notes of the vermouth and bitters.

The Negroni is one that you can’t drink from the freezer—because at 25.4% ABV it freezes (actually this probably depends on the temperature of your freezer, but the sample bottle froze solid in mine). I’m particularly partial to a Negroni, as I’m rather keen on Campari. This mix uses equal parts Campari and Aperol (a drink that until recently was impossible to find outside Italy but is now everywhere for some reason). I think the gin is No.3 again, and the website refers simply to “premium sweet vermouth”: there is no suggestion that this is a blend. I would guess Martini Rosso. They say that time in the bottle “smooths out the flavour” and it is certainly a very smooth drink. If anything I found myself wanting the gin to assert itself more: for comparison I knocked up a Negroni with equal parts Martini Rosso, Campari and Gordon’s Export (a pretty full-on juniper assault) and the juniper made its presence felt much more.

The Manhattan cocktail is again made with a blend of three vermouths, bitters and straight rye whisky. As soon as you start to stir it over ice it gives off a wonderful aroma, and on the palate the strong woody notes of the whisky are tempered by sweetness from the vermouths followed by a keen bitterness on the finish. It’s a good balance, but as Manhattans go it’s actually quite a dry version. From the freezer the cocktail is cloudy with swirls of sediment, and you don’t get that same bouquet. The taste is again stronger and sweeter—which is not necessarily a good thing. Again I feel that the dilution from the ice actually released more of the flavours. This probably isn’t the absolute best Manhattan I’ve tasted** but it is very good indeed.

The Sazerac/World’s Best Cocktail uses half and half rye whisky and VSOP cognac, plus bitters and a splash of unnamed absinthe. It’s one of those cocktails that I mostly can’t be bothered to make, as it seems awfully fiddly for something that ends up basically as a glass of whisky that’s been slightly interfered with (either that or I overdo the absinthe and spoil it). But this, again, is a blend that really makes the case for the cocktail itself. The mix is bang on, with all the elements coming through in just the right proportions—whiskey, absinthe and a sweetness hanging at the bottom. It’s a long, lingering flavour. Comparing the frozen version with one made with ice, I would say that, unlike some of the cocktails here, it works perfectly well either way. It’s obviously stronger from the freezer without ice, which gives a nice warm tickle, but the flavour balance is resilient.

This range of premixes certainly dispels my own prejudices against the idea. If I lived a life where I needed to serve large numbers of reliably good cocktails to guests at the drop of a hat I would definitely consider just keeping these in the cellar (although not, as I might have assumed, in the freezer).

Handmade Cocktail Company premixed cocktails are available online from Master of Malt, mostly at £30 a bottle (£27 for the Martini and £23 for the Negroni).

*Actually there was a sixth, the Old Fashioned, but at time of writing their website says it is sold out.
** To date that would probably be one I knocked up idly following Will Sprunt’s recipe for a Candlelight Club event in March, using Rittenhouse Rye, Antica Formula vermouth, maraschino and allowing some of the liquid from the cherry jar to follow the cherry in.

Just the ticket for a daily dose

2011-08-10T04:33:00.000-07:00

I came across this item at an antiques fair in Ewell in Surrey. I would guess it was Victorian or Edwardian, and has two scales etched or scratched up the side, one for teaspoons and one for tablespoons. Medicine glasses like this might have been carried by doctors or nurses or used at home. Some examples also come with a separate glass “minim measure”—a minim was a unit used by apothecaries and equated to the amount of water in a single drop—with its own compartment in the case.

I rather thought it might be handy for getting measurements just right when making cocktails…

Pash-ion for Vodka #7 - Absolut Watkins

2011-08-10T03:44:00.000-07:00

I've always been intrigued by the various flavours available from Absolut and usually actively seek out a new flavour or variety. Originally the different tasting varieties were based on one flavour but over the last few years they have released a range of US City Inspired versions:

Absolut NEW ORLEANS (Mango and Black Pepper)

Absolut LOS ANGELES (Acai, Acerola, Pomegranate and Blueberry)

Absolut BOSTON (Black tea and Elderflower)

Absolut BROOKLYN (City limited edition; red apple and ginger)

Absolut SAN FRANCISCO (grape, dragon fruit, and papaya)

In a similar travel-related theme Absolut also recently released Absolut Watkins, a variety I have wanted to try for ages: I finally found a bottle yesterday.

Absolut Watkins was designed as treat for the weary traveller and as such is only available in the duty free market, described as a "traveller's exlcusive". This is a trick that is used by other types of spirit, most notably Scotch Whisky.

The bottle was designed by Swedish illustrator Liselotte Watkins* and is full of images of travel and transport. Bottled at 40% ABV, it is flavoured with spiced coffe, almond and a touch of chilli.

Own:
Nose: wheaty nose, a bit like sugar puffs, hints of coffee, vanilla and marzipan.
Taste: great mouthfeel, flavours of roasted coffe and french vanilla, reminscent of cappuccino. Hints of almond and marzipan and a little wamrth at the end. Medium finish and delicious.

Frozen:
A slight failure here as, even at 40% ABV, it froze. I had to wait a few minute for it to thaw. It wasn't really worth it, the vodka loses a lot of flavour and actually becomes a bit rough.

Martini:
The herbal notes of the vermouth don't really go with the vanilla and the coffee. For me, it doesn't really work.

Vodka Tonic:
Chocolate and coffee on the nose. A dry biscuity coffee element is brought out by the tonic water. It's quite pleasant but I like my tonics to be crisp and so a dash of citrus may improves things.

Absolut Watkins and Coke:
Very good, the coffee/vanilla/coke combination reminds me of Kahlua and Cola or my favourite Pepsi variant Pepsiccino (Cappuccino Flavoured Pepsi). When I used Pepsi Max the similarity was even more apparent. It's easy to see why this is the recommendation on the bottle and it's the best drink I've tried with the vodka.

Absolut Watkins & Milk:
Inspired by the White Russian but as the vodka is coffee flavoured I didn't add any Kahlua or similar liqueuer.
Rather thin and very bland. I think it would be much better with cream a perhaps a touch of crème de cacao.

* This makes me think that I'd quite like to see a Quentin Blake Gin.

Bulmers No.17

2011-08-02T05:58:00.000-07:00

Word of mouth is a great tool in this Business we call Booze and I love getting leads off friends, family and readers. The most recent one was a "new type of Bulmers" or a "Pink Bulmers"and when I heard that their new marketing campaign was "Experimenters Wanted" the IAE seemed like a perfect place to feature it.

Bulmers No.17* is a summer variety of their drink and follows hot on the heels of Bulmers Crisp Apple and Bulmers Red Apple. With this new flavour they have been a little more adventurous with a combination of cider, red berries and lime.

Look: Light Pinky Red
Taste: rather refreshing, strawberries, apple and then some tartness, courtesy of the lime. Reminds me a little of Strawberry and Apple Crumble. Although sweeter than most ciders and not really dry it was nevertheless quite refreshing.
I must state that although I am not usually a fan of cider on ice I thought that No.17 improves when served this way. Essentially it becomes more refreshing and easier to drink.

Given its pudding-like qualities I decided to "experiment" with it in a cocktail.

Summer Crumble Fizz

Toa champagne flute I added 20ml of the Fabulous Vodka Company's Caralicious I then topped this up with Bulmers No:17

Depsite the caramel vodka having it's own sweetness when mixed with the Bulmers it does not overwhelm the drink, instead the Caralicious adds a buttery, caramel twist to the drink. It furthers the whole apple crumble effect somewhat. The odd thing is that although it reminds you of something warm and comforting it is actually cool and refreshing, a veritable feast for the mind and senses.

In conclusion, I really like Bulmers No.17 and it's probably the best Bulmers I have tried.

Bulmers No.17 is available from (among other places) Tescos for around £2 for 568ml.

* It seems that Bulmers number each of their products although I'm not sure that all numbers make it to market:
No.9 Original Apple
No.10 Pear
Although I'm not sure of the assigned number, Bulmers have released an Apple and Pear Blend and a Red Apple Variety which sits somewhere in between 11 and 14.
No.15 Crisp Blend
No.17 Red Berries & Lime

The Marmalade Cocktail

2011-07-26T06:22:00.000-07:00

I was recently lucky enough to pick up a battered first edition of The Savoy Cocktail Book for £10. Included is a recipe for the Marmalade Cocktail. Being rather a fan of this preserve and having been impressed with Chase Marmalade Vodka I thought I'd give this cocktail from the 1930 book a try.

Heaped Teaspoon Marmalade

35ml Dry Gin

Juice of half a lemon

Shake Vigorously with Ice

Strain and serve with a squeeze of orange rind (twist of orange)

For Gin I used Tanner's Hereford Gin and my Marmalade of choice was Shazzam's Gin & Tonic Marmalade.

It reminds me a little of a white lady but with a sweet orange tang, very crisp and perfect as pre-lunch cocktail. I particularly like the cleansing tartness of the citrus and the fact it is not too sweet.

Update from the Lab..#6 Eastern Promise Gin - Update with Tasting Notes!

2011-07-25T03:11:00.000-07:00

It's amazing what you can learn on Twitter. Today alone, I've learnt that some folks are aeging gin for over ten years and that one of their varieties is bottled at a heady 67.4% ABV! But perhaps the most interesting conversation today led me to a little experiment. One tweeter is off on holiday to Turkey and I suggested they look out for Gin Istanbul (a juniper spirit made in the country that spans two continents). This led to a lighthearted comment by the Gin Monkey that she imagined it would taste like Turkish Delight. After some discussion on the merits of this, I am proud to present:

Sipsmith Turkish Delight Gin

I decided to use Sipsmith as it a very characterful gin, with a heavy dose of juniper; therefore, it should stand up to the sweet rose flavours of the confection.
I also decided to use powdered sugar Turkish Delight (Sultan's), rather than the chocolate covered variety (Fry's); I thought that the addition of chocolate would be too much and is perhaps an experiment for another day.

Recipe
#1) Remove the powdered sugar from the Turkish Delight (lest the gin be too sweet)*
#2) Cut the Turkish Delight into smaller pieces; this increases the surface area (a point that I'm sure is not lost on the plethora of biologists that read this site).**
#3) Add Turkish Delight to a pot/jam jar (I used 4 pieces)
#4) Add Sipsmith Gin (200ml)***
#5) Wait... (For about 24 hours)
#6) Strain, I just used a tea strainer and I discarded the last 10% from my bottling as it had a heavy sediment.

I only started this today, so it's not ready yet, but rest assured that, when it is, you will receive an update, and an Eastern Promise Martini will be yours for the making.

The Long-awaited Results!

Own:
Nose: certainly of rose with a slight gelatinous quality (maybe by association rather than anything else) as well as juniper and citrus.
Taste: Initially sweet rose and then the dry more bitter notes from the gin, juniper and coriander. Medium to long finish of juniper and Turkish Delight. I'm please to say it wasn't too sweet and that the flavour really comes through.

The gin-soaked Turkish delight pieces were rather tasty although incredibly intense, I'm glad I had Mrs B. to help me eat them.

Gin & Tonic
Although the gin is a light yellow in the bottle with tonic it becomes ever so slightly pink. In this drink the flavour of the gin is much more subtle, but it is still there. It is as if some mysterious beauty had just softly brushed your arm and you've taken in a waft of her perfume.**** But it is more delicate and quite intriguing.

Martini
A light parchment yellow, the flavours of Turkish delight come over well, I can imagine this would be very similar to Will's marvelous creation. Possibly my favourite way to drink the Turkish Delight Gin.

* You could do this by licking the sugar off, but I decided to rinse it with filtered water instead—just as effective and probably less offensive.
** Turkish Delight is notoriously difficult to cut up, so be careful and, if you're having trouble, ask an adult to help you.
*** Other gins are available. I imagine something like SW4 would also work well.
**** I guess this suggests that they've been dabbing Sultan's (or gin) behind their ears?

A new Perfect Partner for SW4 - The Gin of Champions?

2011-07-23T11:40:00.000-07:00

This lazy weekend, I have experimenting with Thomas Henry drinks, a range of German mixer. Starting with their tonic, I tried it in a variety of guises, but the most enjoyable was clearly in a Gin & Tonic. My gin of choice was SW4, the gin of Champions. It's getting to the stage where I have tried nearly 50 different varieties of tonic water and I must say that, along with 1724, Thomas Henry is one of the "new kids on the block" that makes superb drinks.

I used the standard 40% ABV SW4 in a 2:1 (Tonic:Gin) ratio with Thomas Henry's Tonic Water. Here are my tasting notes:

There's an initial burst of freshness; the tonic brings out a lot of the citrus notes from the gin, but the juniper is still rather prevalent. This is a drink that is exceptionally refreshing, rather delicious and a great way to cool down on a hot evening. Unlike many tonics, Thomas Henry's does not overwhelm the drink, nor does it bring any unwelcome flavours or cloying textures. A great complement that enhances the gin, rather than covering it up.

For more information on Thomas Henry Mixers: http://www.thomas-henry.de/
For more information on SW4 Gin, check out their brand new website: http://sw4gin.com/

Marmite XO: the spread of kings?

2011-07-18T11:45:00.000-07:00

I was mooching through my local Sainsbury’s and I literally stopped dead when I spotted this. OK, it isn’t actually booze but it clearly uses booze terminology and, I would suggest, is clearly trying to borrow the glamour, cachet and exclusivity of premium aged spirits.

Marmite XO has been made, it says here, “Using four specially selected yeast sources. Our master blender has crafted the secret Marmite recipe and matured it for four times longer to create a Marmite so strong and full-bodied it can only be for the most devoted of lovers.”

I confess I wasn’t aware that Marmite was matured at all. Perhaps it isn’t really, but as the actual recipe is a secret, who knows? Marmite is made from concentrated brewer’s yeast and was invented by accident in the late 19th century by German scientist Justus von Lieig. The original factory was in Burton upon Trent, where they used by-product yeast from the Bass brewery. During the First World War it was issued to British soldiers because of its high vitamin B content.

So from a marketing point of view, with Marmite XO they are going down that familiar “you either love it or hate it” route, by making a version that is like Marmite regular (a simple Table Marmite, I suppose) but more so. And given that Marmite is made from a brewing by-product, it’s not so strange that they should use alcohol concepts to sell it. It’s not the first time they’ve produced a special verision: in 2007 there was a Guinness version using 30% Guinness yeast, in 2009 there was a Marston’s Pedigree version, and in 2008 they even made a Champagne version, using 0.3% added Champagne (the wine, as far as I can tell, rather than Champagne yeast).

So, what does Marmite XO taste like? At first I was convinced that it did have a greater depth of flavour, but tasting it side-by-side I have to admit that I don’t think I can really tell the difference, nor does XO seem any stronger (but then it’s hard to tell, because it depends on how thickly you spread it).

Still, it’s a great jar.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I must go and continue working on my range of single-vineyard crisps and barrel-aged washing up liquid…

Heavy Water vodka

2011-07-17T13:18:00.000-07:00

The 1965 war film The Heroes of Telemark was on TV a few weeks ago, about the plucky Norwegian resistance saboteurs who stopped the Nazis from using heavy water made at the Vemork Norsk Hydro plant in Norway to develop nuclear weapons. By interesting coincidence, only the day before I had been at the Distil spirit show and had encountered an engaging vodka called Heavy Water, which is named after the same incident.

Heavy Water photographed at Distil

OK, just look at the picture—it’s called Heavy Water, and it comes in a bottle with what looks like a fuel rod in it. What’s not to like? According to Mark Chapman, MD for Europe and Asia, the plastic rod is an aerator (though he also admitted that primarily it was there to look cool).

Heavy Water has a creamy, vanilla, almost toffee nose with, for me, a hint of strawberry fruitiness. The palate shows the same sweet fruit but it is not oleaginously smooth—there is a peppery edge that leaves a tingling on the tongue. I compare it to some Adnams Longshore that is to hand, and the Adnams has a woodier nose and perhaps a smoother palate. Sipsmith has a similar sweet, fruity nose to the Heavy Water but a very smooth palate; Chase potato vodka has a similar toffee element, which carries over on to the palate, again giving a very smooth impression. Finally I compare the Heavy Water to some Krepkaya strong Russian vodka—which has sharper, thinner nose, with a hint of grapefruit; in the mouth it is fiery (but then it is 56% ABV). For me the Heavy Water has an interesting balance between a sweet, fruity approachability and backbone that makes its presence felt.

I try a vodka Dry Martini using Heavy Water. I’m normally much more of a gin Martini man myself, but this cocktail works remarkably well, with the vodka lending a plump, creamy mouthfeel, but with that peppery character poking through the vermouth too.

So what about this aerator rod? You don’t actually seem to be able to unscrew this assembly, so you can’t compare the vodka poured through the rod with vodka just poured normally. The best I can do is pour some into a shot glass, up to the brim, then clingfilm over it and leave it for about 48 hours, then compare this with some freshly poured through the mighty aerator. There is actually a difference—the fresh-poured is smoother and fruitier, whereas the previously poured stuff has a more medicinal nose and an oddly flat, almost smoky element to the flavour. But I have no idea is this is simply an effect of making the vodka sit in a shot glass under clingfilm for 48 hours.

The hydrogen plant at Rjukan, Telemark. It is not involved in the production
of Heavy Water vodka (and in fact was destroyed by bombing in the war)

Heavy water is water in which a high level of the normal hydrogen atoms are replaced by deuterium, an isotope that has a neutron in the nucleus as well as a proton (normal hydrogen just has the proton). Deuterium occurs naturally in a ratio of one to every 6,400 hydrogen atoms. In ordinary water there is about one deuterium atom to every 156 million, but at the Norwegian plant they found a way of producing deuterium-enriched water. Although not radioactive, heavy water had the property of stabilising early experiments in nuclear fission, which was why Jerry was keen to get his hands on it. Heavy water is indeed heavier than regular water.

You should be pleased to hear that Heavy Water vodka doesn’t contain any more heaviness than ordinary water (heavy water in concentration in the bodies of humans and animals stops cell division, so will ultimately kill you). It is actually made in Sweden, on the shores of lake Vänern, from Scandinavian winter wheat and water from an artesian well, apparently from a subterranean lake formed during the last Ice Age. The marketing bumf makes great play of the five-times distillation, the filtration through Norwegian black birch charcoal and the rarefied water source, claiming that Heavy Water is the “purest vodka in the world”. Privately owned, it was actually launched in 2005, and I was intrigued to discover that Jared Brown and Anistatia Miller were involved.

“Anistatia and I had been living in Boise, Idaho,” Jared explains in response to my questions, “where we worked as tasters on Bardenay Gin as it evolved from something we were making on a glass chemistry set still in a one-stall employee toilet (the only part of the building licensed at the time), to when it was being churned out on a gleaming Holstein copper pot still.

Kirk Douglas sports a stylish sweater in the film

“But, buckling under pressure from our editors at Wine Spectator and Cigar Aficionado, and Random House, we moved back to New York. Once there, Anistatia decided to get a job outside the house and became creative director for a marketing and PR firm. One of the first clients she was presented with was Heavy Water, in the pre-natal stages of start-up, but with a decent set of guys behind it. I was invited to the meeting as well.

“We thought the bottle was novel, the name was good, and then tasted the product they were going to fill the bottle with. We looked at each other for a minute, thanked them for coming and walked out of the room. We didn't want our names anywhere near it. The young CEO was deeply offended, but one of the older guys at the table followed us out and asked if we thought we could do better. We tasted their vodka every morning for a week, then sent our organoleptic analysis off to them. The distiller, impressed we knew his starting and finishing fermentation temperatures by the taste of the final product encouraged them to bring us over. A month later we were working through the first samples in Norway and Sweden.

“We finally got it to the point where we were happy with it. One of the investors had insisted that the spirit not be entered in any competitions. ‘I’ve got a lot of money in this and a bad score would kill it,’ or words to that effect. Anistatia took a gamble and sent it off to the Beverage Tasting Istitute anyway. They liked it. They liked it a lot. It got best spirit in the white spirits category and a nice high score [94 points]… Heavy Water went on to rack up an impressive list of medals and accolades. But without a giant bankroll to fund the roll out, it has remained a boutique brand.”

Heavy Water vodka can be had for about £30 a bottle if you can find it. The only online source I have found is Drinkology—who are really German.

When I met Metté - An Eau-de-Vie Tasting

2011-07-07T07:39:00.000-07:00

Just some of products Metté produces.

I recently found myself in my old surroundings of the City, heading up Threadneedle Street to Bond’s Bar; once famous for their Truffle Martini. The reason? An Eau-de-Vie tasting with Metté and Amathus.

What is Eau-de-Vie?
Eau-de-Vie (“water-of-life”) is a (generally) colourless fruit brandy made by fermenting or macerating fruit and then distilling the resultant mash. Some producers age their products, but this is not essential. It is very similar to German or Austrian schnapps.

Metté have been making Eau-de-Vie for over 50 years and, today, the distillery is run by husband and wife team, Philippe and Nathalie Trabber, although it was founded in the 1960s by Jean Paul Metté, Philippe’s godfather. In 1985, Jean Paul started teaching Philippe the art of distilling and in 1997, Philippe and his wife purchased the distillery. Distiller Metté is located in Ribeauville, North-East France in the heart of the Alsatian Vineyards. Today, the distillery makes over 87 spirits and 25 liqueurs.

When Metté makes Eau-de-Vie it uses one of two methods:

My tasting glasses and sheet of copious notes.

1) Fermentation
Fruit is fermented using only the fruit’s natural sugar. No sugar or yeast are added. Maceration times vary depending on the fruit. After maceration, the fruit is distilled twice.
This style is used for pears and stone-fruit such as apricots and sloe berries.

2) Maceration
The second method is the one favoured for more delicate floral and herbal flavours and berries. The ingredients are macerated in the alcohol and then distilled once. Again, the maceration period varies, for example, raspberry only takes 6 days, whereas ginger takes 8-10 weeks.

Wild Raspberry

At our tasting, we tried six Eau-de-Vie (all bottled at 45% ABV) and one liqueur (30% ABV):

1) Apricot
This is aged for 6-8 years in stainless steel vessels, which is thought to make the drink more balanced. There is also an XO Apricot Eau-de-Vie available, which is aged for 15 years. The aging vessels are kept outside and so are subject to temperatures ranging between 45oc in summer to -20 in winter; these large swings are thought to improve the results of the aging.

Nose: Dry apricot stones, as well as a hint of the fresh, sweet flesh. Like a dry apricot liqueur.
Taste: Dry sweetness, but it still has the jamminess of an apricot preserve. There is some warmth and a little tongue-tingle and bite. A long, floral-perfume finish. A fine start to the tasting.

Greengage

2) Vieille Mirabelle (Plum) – Aged 12 years
Nose: Dry plum with some almond and vanilla.
Taste: Like a very dry sloe gin; spicier and more flavoursome than the Apricot. Overall, this is a more intense product. A nice balance of sweet and dry, I thought the product really opened up with a little drop of water, bringing a rich fruitiness and a full-bodied mouth feel.

3) Wild Raspberry – Aged 6 years
This is macerated for 5 days and distillation takes place 24 hours a day whilst it is being made to prevent oxidisation from spoiling the fruit.
Nose: Fresh raspberry with a hint of blackberry; quite sweet.
Taste: Exceptional; it tastes like I have just bitten into a freshly picked, perfectly ripe raspberry. Astounding. Smooth and sweet at the start, with a gradual building warmth. Probably the best fruit spirit I have had.

4) Marc de Gerwurztraminer (Greengage)
I must admit that I’m not too familiar with the taste of Greengage fruit.
Nose: Apple, pear and a little kiwi. Dry, not too sweet. Some hints of lightly oxidised apple flesh.
Taste: Fruity; fresh apple with a little citrus and rather jam-like. Lots of flavour with hints of almond and marzipan on the finish.

Ginger

5) Pepper – Aged 15 years
I was expecting something rather hot and peppery (as in black pepper), but what I found was quite different.
Nose: Spicy and fruity.
Taste: Some heat, but rather light; the flavour is of red bell pepper. This is fruity, which goes well with the press pepper flavours. There was a hint of mint and lemon and, overall, quite a crisp spirit. Herbal and intense with some spice. Superb.

We had already had one surprise with the sophisticated flavour profile of this spirit, but we were in for another when Nathalie announced that she liked to drink it with tonic water. Having just come from Imbibe (and being an ardent gin fan), I happened to have some tonic water with me, so we gave it a try*:

There’s a dry fruitiness that you might expect the gin to provide in a Gin & Tonic, but there is also a rich jammy fruitiness and some spicy pepper, too. It’s lighter and more full-bodied than a Gin & Tonic, with a touch of elderflower. Very refreshing, delicious and unlike anything have ever tasted before.

Quince Liqueur

6) Ginger – Aged 6 years
Nose: Superb. There’s no mistaking the fresh fiery, spicy scent of ginger; some sweetness akin to gingerbread.
Taste: Very very good; not too sweet and the ginger is not too overpowering. Very fresh, like freshly cut ginger root. Some citrus, too, giving the spirit a pleasant zesty quality. There was also a little butter or cream, like that from a really good quality ginger beer.

7) Quince Liqueur
This is based on the Quince Eau-de-Vie (aged 6–8 years), but the liqueur itself is un-aged. Fruit and sugar are added to the quince spirit to make this sweeter variety. This maceration process takes 6 weeks.
Taste: Sweet and jammy with warmth and a lingering drynness. Very pleasant. Some almond and marzipan notes as well as a hint of rose Turkish Delight.

In Conclusion
It was great to try just some of the range Metté has to offer, Eau-de-Vie is certainly more diverse than I thought. I'd never expected to be able to taste such, full rich and fruity flavours. My favourite has to be the Wild Raspberry but the Ginger & Pepper (especially with tonic) were not far behind.

*Pepper & Tonic

[25ml Metté Pepper Eau-de-Vie, 50ml tonic water; serve over ice in a tumbler]

SW4 Champion Strength - Gin of Champions @ 47%

2011-07-05T02:22:00.000-07:00

Yesterday saw Mr Hartley and me heading over to Graphic Bar to enjoy the joint first birthday of the Juniper Society and SummerFruitCup. The celebrations were fueled by SW4 Gin (check out their new website here) and Sip or Mix. SW4 was the first gin to sponsor the Juniper Society a year ago and has since become part of the family, not just at the Juniper Society, but here, over at the IAE.

There were various party games and one of these was a lucky dip; I was lucky enough to pick up a bottle of the rare 47%ABV SW4. This had a very limited production run (just 15 bottles); one of these was siphoned down into miniatures, so there are just 14 left. My understanding is that the majority of these will be sold to a lucky few and each will be signed by Martin Price (Mr SW4) himself. It's the same botanical mix as SW4, but is bottled at 47%ABV rather than the usual 40%ABV.

THE TASTE

Own
Very soft and smooth, especially for 47%; juniper and citrus come across first, followed by some spice. When compared to the 47%, the 40% seems a lot more earthy and rooty. The 47% seems to have a stronger flavour profile and a great warming (but not burning) effect on my throat.

Gin & Tonic
Initial thoughts: juniper, light spice and fresh. Strength in both the juniper and citrus and you can tell this is a stronger gin & tonic, but, like Plymouth Navy Strength, the strength does not ruin the drink.** As the ice melts a little, the flavours open up and I'm now getting some angelica, too, and a touch of anise at the end. Tasty, with a long finish.

Martini (5:1) with Dolin Dry
Exceptionally clean and crisp, and very easy to drink. Works really well with Dolin vermouth and there are juniper, citrus and floral/perfume notes, although none of these are overpowering. The main feature, though, is how clear and clean it is; it would be difficult to tell it was 47%. Superb.

I'm fond of both the 40% and the 47% SW4, but I think that, generally, the 40% is more versatile for cocktail making and the 47% is better to be drunk on the rocks or in a Martini. The Martini it made was exceptional. I'm glad I got a chance to try 47% SW4.

* For more detail contact Jenny at hello@sipormix.com
** Some gins can pull the strength off, and some can't. I've had some gins that tasted like they were 50% and they were only 40% or 37.5% - the alcohol was that rough.

Pash-ion for Vodka #6 - Putinka Kedrovaya

2011-06-25T15:02:00.000-07:00

For the sixth installment of Pash-ion for Vodka we shall be, once again, looking at a product provided by our Man in Moscow, Mr. Pasha.

Putinka is distilled with juniper and cedar tree nuts and is produced by the state-owned Moscow Distillery Crystal company that was founded in 1901. During the Second World War the distillery made Molotov's Cocktails that were packaged in Vodka and Wine bottles for the war effort.

Since the reign of Vladmir Putin began the Crystal company have made the most of the similarity between the name of the vodka and that of the premier.* Putinka was named "Superbrand of 2004" and "National Product of the Year in 2006".

The Taste

Own

A slight graininess, less smooth than many vodka although there is a certain cleanliness in the warmth it has. It is only 40% but tastes stronger. It has quite a lot of flavour but is not for the faint-hearted. I get a little nuttiness and a touch of bitterness (could be from the Juniper?).

Frozen

Mellows slight but still quite fierce, still clean with a hint of grain and incredibly warming.

Martini

Very clean at the beginning with a distinctive hint of bitterness near the end followed by the vermouth. Still pleasantly clean but with a light sweet nuttiness on the finish. Pretty good and a little unusual.

* I'm not sure how well Brown's Brandy, Obama Ouzo or Cameron's Cream Liqueur would go down.

Savier: like a gin, but more so

2011-06-22T01:11:00.000-07:00

At a Juniper Society moot DBS met a South African chap called Byron from the Gabriel Collective who was looking to distribute beer from his home country in the UK, but he also had a couple of gins in his portfolio. It wasn’t really his main focus but when we met up he had a couple of bottles for us to try. In fact they were the only bottles in the country—just check out the batch numbers in the photo below.

The Savier Spirit Co. offers a couple of gins, a vodka and a cocoa vodka, made in North Carolina and bottled in South Africa. Whether it would ever be economically viable then to ship the bottles to the UK I don’t know, so you may never encounter them commercially, but they make interesting sipping. Both gins are organic, certified for the USDA National Organic Program by the CCOF.

The back label of the Artisan Gin refers to “copper botanical trays”, suggesting a Carter Head type still where the alcohol vapour passes through the botanicals on its way to being recondensed, but in fact both gins are a mixture of this process and the traditional process where botanicals are macerated in the liquid base spirit before distillation. The Artisan Gin immediately strikes you as a ginny gin—you probably hear that a lot now, but it really is quite single-minded in its juniper character and consequent emphasis on the high notes (plus a bit of something like ginger, some cucumber and something a shade pungent like fennel). Whereas a lot of modern gins focus on softening, sweetening mid-range spice elements, as if to make them palatable on their own, this product seems to be saying, “Drink a gin neat? Are you a barbarian?”

Duly chastened I try it with water and with tonic, and a distinct character emerges of not just juniper but also that cucumber again. I confess my immediate reaction was that it seemed rather refreshing to encounter a gin that stuck to its guns and delivered a flavour that played its role in a mix, rather than pandering to an approachable neat serve that might appeal to vodka drinkers or those who find gin too dry and scary. If they could import it at a relatively affordable price I think they could have a winner—not least among the organic crowd. Rui Esteves from the Gabriel Collective tells me that in fact there is no cucumber in either gin. (Although of course Hendrick’s and Martin Miller’s have already established a bridgehead for cucumber flavour in gin.)

But the other gin in the portfolio is altogether more intriguing: they call it a “Juniper Gin”. “What gin isn’t?” you may ask. Well, what marks this out from the pack is that rather than just macerating juniper berries in the starter spirit then distilling this, Savier then re-macerate some of the gin in fresh juniper berries, and blend this back into the mix before bottling. Moreover, the Juniper Gin apparently has a different botanical line-up—though of course Rui won’t say what it is—and even uses a different type of still. All Rui can tell me is that the still design enables them to “collect heavier oils during the actual distillation”, adding, “We’re actually thinking of patenting the design, since we do think its unique.”

The result is a rather cloudy liquid but one with an extraordinary fresh juniper nose—if you’ve ever crushed juniper with a pestle and mortar when cooking you’ll know what I mean. Compared to the base Artisan Gin, it is much more accessible neat, and indeed the label suggests this is a good way to serve it, or perhaps in simple cocktails that won’t smother the character of the gin.

In a G&T I’m struck by how the juniper of the Juniper Gin is fresher, in an almost apple-juicy way, whereas the Artisan G&T has more of a dry pencil-lead juniper character. It’s a deceptively soft drink, compared to the muscular botanical character of the Artisan, and has a fresh, rustic, homemade quality. It’s an accessible, seductive G&T, though side by side I probably prefer the assertive presence of the Artisan.

One final blasphemy: although after a few tastings I think that the Artisan gin has quite a few flavours in there, the first time I made a G&T with it I was stuck by its spiky high-note character. Compared to it, SW4, say, has a warmer, spicier profile altogether. As an experiment, I tried blending the two and considered the resulting balance rather pleasing.

I’m sure the makers of both gins will be horrified. So I might as well confess right now that, my analysing done for the day, I am enjoying a G&T made with 6 O’Clock, Savier Juniper and SW4 all mixed together. Sue me.

Tonic Water Review: 1870 mixers

2011-06-17T14:53:00.000-07:00

I've been waiting to try Silver Spring 1870 tonic for a little while now, but it has been difficult to come by. So, as you can imagine, I was quite pleased when I saw today that my local Waitrose had started to stock both the Regular and Light (diet) varieties. At £0.69 a bottle (1ltr), I thought it was worth a try.

1870 Tonic is produced by Silver Spring of Kent, a company that was founded in 1888 as a mineral water company. They produce the rather tasty Perfectly Clear (a range of flavoured water) and make a variety of own-brand soft drinks for British supermarkets (Morrisons, Asda & Tesco).

According to their website, the 1870s mixer range started to be developed during the 19th century (hence 1870?). The tonic waters are the result of Brazilian Essential Oils being expertly blended with pure sparkling spring water.

The Rather Pleasantly Packaged 1870 Tonic Waters

The Taste

Regular
This had a medium fizz, but was rather artificial in its sweetness and cloying. There was also a harsh, soil-like bitterness. Of the 30+ tonic waters I have tried, this is below average. It improved when gin was added, but still had a cloying aftertaste and lacked any depth of flavour.

Light
There was obvious artificial sweetness form the outset; the kind that sticks to your teeth. This tonic water left a really nasty taste in my mouth. Once again, the taste slightly improved when gin was added (frankly what doesn't?), but this didn't hide the fact that the drink was off-balance and unpleasant. If it hadn't been for the use of Plymouth Gin (a waste on reflection), this would have been one of the worst Gin & Tonics I have ever had.

Upon looking at the ingredients list, it appears that both the Regular and the Light versions of the tonic water contain the artifical sweetener Aspartame. Whilst I can accept its use in a low calorie version, its inclusion in the regular version seems hard to defend. Even if costs were an issue, it should be noted that Waitrose's Regular own-brand tonic water contains no artificial sweeteners and is actually sold for only £0.47 per litre.

In Conclusion
It is unusual that I am overtly negative about a product, but in this case I'd avoid these two products and if you are in Waitrose, buy their brand instead.

Waitrose Tonic is available at around £0.47 for 1 litre (diet and twist of lime and twist of lemon varieties are also available).

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