Lab Update #3: Snow.

Lab update #3 - Fun with Snow

With all my scheduled meetings for the day cancelled, I decided to make the best of this impromptu day-off and use the weather in some drinks.

First I tried a Snow Julep using Jim Beam Green Label Bourbon, it's looks good and I thought it was a nice idea but it was very difficult to drink without a straw.

The next idea (below right) was inspired by Clayton (and I have to admit I feel the same) love of the G Vine ice balls, rather than one big ice ball to add to your whisky why not use a compacted snowball. Once I had packed it together I put it

in the freezer for a minute to let it harden up.

this seems to cool the drink moderately, but not as much as the Gvine cubes.

Below left: you can see a Gin & Tonic, "Evans" style served with another chunk snowball ice.

Some readers may think, using snow ice is all well and good but I would like to be warmed up.

Well I shall introduce you to my simple hot toddy recipe:

2pts Whisky

1pt Sugar Syrup

1pt Lemon Juice

4pts Boiling Water

I have scaled this up using 500ml whisky, 125ml sugar syrup, 125ml honey, 250ml lemon juice. I added the whisky sugar syrup and lemon juice to a saucepan and gently heated it, I then added the honey,a pinch of nutmeg, and stirred. After heating for a few minutes I removed the pan from the heat. After cooling I strained it and bottled it.

Voila! You have a premix hot toddy, just add hot water (1pt toddy mix : 2parts boiling water.)

Update from the lab.

Here in the Institute's south coast branch, with a plentiful supply of lightning storms to power my Vermouth Interocitor and my Quinine extractor, I have been busy with a few home-made projects.

Update from the Lab: 8th Nov 2010

#1 Mincemeat Vodka & Mincemeat Liqueur

I was inspired to make this by an end-of-the-aisle display in my local hypermarket. I added mincemeat to vodka (no sugar was required, as mincemeat

has sugar enough already) and left for a week, shaking at intervals.

Vodka: I was surprised at how much flavour has been infused into the vodka; the smell of the fruits and spices is there and that is represented in the taste. On the downside, the finish is a little harsh, but I think that this may be better for mixing in cocktails, whilst the liqueur may be better for sipping.

Liqueur: This is essentially the former spirit, diluted with extra water and sugar. The flavours of the mincemeat are still very present and Mrs. B says it reminded her of Stollen and Christmas. She is very keen for me to try using it in a hot cocktail.

#2 Ginger Tonic Water Syrup

This was my first attempt at making Ginger Ale Syrup, but it really turned out more like Ginger Tonic Water.

On it's own: This is an odd one; it definitely isn't ginger ale, but it has a savoury-ness and an understated sweetness that is hard to place. The ginger comes through, as does the bitterness from the Cinchona bark, but it is not as tart or tangy as tonic water syrup.

With Gin: Initially, this tasted just like a gin and tonic, but towards the end the bitterness is replaced by a gingery warmth; rather odd, but Mrs. B liked it.

#3 Ginger Ale Syrup

This was created in a similar way to the Ginger Tonic syrup, apart from the additional of lemon zest, the exclusion of Citric Acid and Cinchona Bark, and, before any water was added, the sugar, ginger and lemon were caramelised together. OK, it was the same as the Tonic syrup in that it contained ginger, water and sugar!

On it's own: As with all syrups, the trick is getting the right dilution. After a little experimentation, we were left with a sweet ginger ale, with a bit of citrus and a little fire towards the end; spicy, but not blazing. Quite nice for a first go.

With Gin (Gin Buck): The gin is more dominant and, in order to get the ginger through, I had to add more syrup, making it sweeter. For the next batch, I think I need a bit more ginger and a less sugar. A work in progress.

What I'm drinking:

It seems to be the latest trend in London Bars, a Gin & Tonic in the "Evans" style: garnished with both Lemon and Lime, citrus bliss! (I used Oliver Cromwell Gin & Waitrose Tonic)

What's Next?

Can one man make his own Old Tom Gin?

On the use of Champagne in cocktails

A French '75. (The sugar cube quickly loses
its cubeness and becomes more of a heap)

I've largely given up ordering Champagne cocktails in bars, having come to the conclusion that the classic versions offered in many have far too much brandy (and often too much Angostura). I'm guessing this is because these components are a lot cheaper than the Champagne itself, though it may just be a sort of gleeful "more is more" ineptitude. (At 43 South Moulton I watched as the barman—who was full of cocky confidence in his mixological wisdom—placed a sugar cube on the bar top and literally saturated it with bitters, before slopping it into a glass which he filled a good third full with brandy.)

I feel that if you’re going to make a mixed drink with Champagne you should be able to taste that Champagne and the recipes should be subtle. For the record, I would take a sugar cube, splash three or four drops of bitters on to it then place it in a champagne flute. Over this I pour enough cognac just to cover it, then top up with Champagne. (This is based on glasses a good five inches tall.)

When I became interested in the French ’75, a mixture of champagne, gin, lemon juice and sugar, I tried applying the same principle. The drink takes its name from a French 75mm cannon from the First World War—and the naming is ascribed variously to the experience of drinking it being like the impact of a 75mm shell, or to the combination of typically British and French ingredients representing some sort of entente cordiale. Its invention is often attributed to Harry McElhone (of Harry’s American Bar in Paris), although Harry himself apparently attributed the drink to MacGarry of Buck's Club in London (home of the Buck's Fizz; it's also no accident that the barman at Woodhouse's Drones Club is also named McGarry*). Many are actually under the impression that the drink originated during Prohibition in the US (where it became popular at the Stork Club), though Simon Difford feels that it is unlikely the Americans would name a drink after a (metric unit) French WWI gun, especially given that the war would have been long over by the time Prohibition came along.**

The 1930 Savoy Cocktail Book has the ingredients as described above (apparently the first recipe to appear in print), though it's worth noting that David Embury in his classic The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks from 1948 seems to think the standard version uses cognac and that gin is a variation. More strangely, Larrousse Cocktails (UK edition 2005) by Fernando Castellon states that the original French '75 used calvados instead of the Champagne, and that it was McElhone who made the switch. I can't help thinking that if this were true it is scarcely the same drink, though if there was originally a drink called a French '75 containing gin, calvados, lemon juice and sugar, then you can't argue with that. (I must try it.) Castellon does not give his sources, however. In Robert Vermeire's Cocktails: How to Mix Them (1922, though I admit my copy is the twelfth edition) his recipe for a Champagne cocktail*** has you "squeeze the essence of two or three pieces of lemon peel into the glass" and add another piece to the drink, suggesting a pretty close relationship between the two cocktails. It's easier to see the French '75 as evolving from the Champagne cocktail than from the drink Castellon describes.

Most people seem to use 1½ or 2 measures of gin, about ½–1 measure of lemon juice and about a teaspoon of sugar syrup or fine sugar. These are stirred or shaken and added to a glass to which the Champagne is then added. Some recipes add triple sec, calvados or grenadine. Some serve the drink on the rocks and some with a maraschino cherry.

This version came as the result of my tinkering along the lines of the classic Champagne cocktail described above.

1 sugar lump
3–4 drops of orange bitters
Juice of ¼ of a lemon
About a measure of gin
Champagne

Splash the bitters on to the sugar cube and place this at the bottom of a flute. Add enough gin just to cover the cube. Add the lemon juice then top up with champagne, stirring gently if necessary, but not with the intention of dissolving the sugar cube—it should sit there at the bottom, bubbling away and gradually breaking down. Although the classic version is supposed to derive its firepower from the quantity of gin, making it this way means you can still taste the Champagne’s character as well as the gin coming through, plus hints of rind oil from the bitters, all freshened by the lemon. Of course it becomes sweeter as the sugar dissolves and as you get closer to its source at the bottom, but, hey, life is about change.

*Oddly, no one seems to agree on MacGarry's Christian name—I've heard Pat, or Malachy—or even whether it was McGarry, MacGarry or Macgarry
**Of course the basic principle of adultering Champagne was much older—the Champagne cocktail is mentioned by Jerry Thomas in 1862. The Seelbach, a combination of bourbon, triple sec, Angostura bitters and Peychaud's bitters with Champagne, was invented in 1917 at the Seelbach hotel in Louisville, Kentucky, though apparently lost until rediscovered by the hotel in 1995. I've not tried it but it sounds interesting.
***In fairness Vermeire does also have you "soak" the sugar cube in bitters, but I still think this is OTT.