Speaking of Bénédictine and Chartreuse … I missed this story by Gary Regan when it appeared in the Chronicle about a month ago. Who knew that Purgatory could be a bit like heaven?

The Purgatory Cocktail
(by Ted Kilgore, Monarch Restaurant, Maplewood MO)

2-1/2 ounces Rittenhouse 100-proof rye whiskey.
3/4 ounce Bénédictine.
3/4 ounce green Chartreuse.
Lemon twist garnish.

Stir with ice for no less than 30 seconds, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Add garnish.

Whoo, I’m going to ask for one of these after I’ve had a crap day at work. I might even make one tonight (although I don’t think I’ll have a crap day today), but I think tonight we may be going to Seven Grand.

UPDATE: We didn’t make it to Seven Grand tonight. Wes was tired after a long, crappy week at work and felt like staying in, so I decided to make Purgatory Cocktails tonight. Hopefully we’ll make it to Seven Grand tomorrow, but for now, here are the fruits of our labors. Well, drinking labor. (Feel free to sentence me to such hard labor.)

Man. That’s some big ol’ drink. Gary’s description was exactly right — that particular rye is robust enough to keep the herbal flavors of the Bénénedictine and Chartreuse (especially the latter) at bay and make them play well together. Complex and spicy and powerful (we’re talking about 2.5 ounces of 100 proof whiskey and 3/4 ounce of a 110 proof liqueur … yowza), this is one to add to the repertoire. Keep Rittenhouse 100 on hand for this, most assuredly — a softer rye like Old Overholt wouldn’t work here; it’s get wiped out. I’m not even sure Wild Turkey 101 Rye would work quite as well as the Rittenhouse does.

By the way, I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but just in case I haven’t … Rittenhouse 100 is the best rye value on the market today, in my humble opinion. A big, strong, spicy rye, an absolutely superb product, and it’s dirt-cheap — we get it for about $18 a bottle.

Or, saying more nice things about vodka. (See the post on the Gypsy Cocktail.)

One of the very first really great cocktail books I picked up about 10 years ago was Paul Harrington’s Cocktail: The Drinks Bible for the 21st Century. In it is an original of his which he called “The Drink Without A Name,” renamed by Robert Hess as The Harrington Cocktail (a much better name, I think). It’s almost entirely vodka, with small amounts of two liqueurs to provide subtle but pronounced flavors. It’s very good (but because I can’t help it I’ve made it with gin, and it’s really good with that too, especially with Hayman’s Old Tom).

I’ve increased the recipe from the way Paul and Robert usually give it, because I like a slightly larger drink, plus it’s easier for me to measure. By “barspoon” I mean professional barspoon measures, which is one teaspoon.

The Harrington Cocktail

2 ounces vodka.
2 barspoons Cointreau.
1 barspoon green Chartreuse.

Combine with ice and stir for 30 seconds. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with an orange twist.

Saying nice things about vodka? Heaven forfend.

It’s true, vodka doesn’t get a lot of respect from bartenders these days. It’s true, vodka is responsible for what one of my BarSmarts teachers called “The Era of the Fear of Flavor,” when vodka sales overtook gin sales in the late 1950s, and whiskey sales in the mid-1960s. Yes, it’s the base of a lot of lazy juice drinks, and all those Vodka Tonics we shake our heads to see turned out by the hundreds to people who apparently don’t want to taste much of anything, but want to get lit.

But where would a Moscow Mule be without vodka? I love Moscow Mules.

Vodka provides a bridge between the flavors of gin and Kina Lillet in the original Vesper cocktail.

Vodka in your Bloody Mary, baby. (Although I prefer gin, unsurprisingly.)

Truth is there are plenty of things you can do with vodka, if you use it wisely (i.e., not in something called a “Vodka Martini,” of which there is no such thing). Vodka can be used to round out the flavor of an intense or sweet ingredient, softening it while still maintaining it. A prime example of this comes from David Wondrich, via his first book Esquire Drinks: An Opinionated & Irreverent Guide to Drinking. He introduced me to a cocktail in which vodka is seemingly its base spirit but the true flavor of the cocktail is really based on a liqueur (by David Embury’s formula, something thought of as a modifier).

Bénédictine is a delicious, spicy herbal liqueur and one of my very favorites, but it’s also very sweet. I’m not big on really sweet drinks, and I rarely if ever sip liqueurs alone. This is a great way to enjoy the flavor of Bénédictine while keeping the sweetness in check. The dash of bitters helps bring it all together.

Make sure you use real Bénédictine and not “B&B,” which is a bottled mixture of half Bénédictine and half brandy.

The Gypsy Cocktail

2 ounces vodka.
1 ounce Bénédictine D.O.M. liqueur.
1 dash Angostura bitters.

Stir for no less than 30 seconds. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

This is actually quite nice. Dave says that you can make this with any “funky, herbal” European liqueur, such as Chartreuse, but he prefers this combination.

One of the very first really great cocktail books I picked up about 10 years ago was Paul Harrington’s Cocktail: The Drinks Bible for the 21st Century. In it is an original of his which he called “The Drink Without A Name,” renamed by Robert Hess as The Harrington Cocktail (a much better name, I think). It’s almost entirely vodka, with small amounts of two liqueurs to provide subtle but pronounced flavors. It’s very good (but becuase I can’t help it I’ve made it with gin, and it’s really good with that too, especially with Old Tom).

Vodka is also great for preserving homemade syrups, making spice and herb tinctures, and the like. Your bar is incomplete without it.

Now, that said, there’s really no reason for you to spend a lot of money on “premium” vodka unless you are a vodka connoisseur and enjoy sipping them chilled and neat. Those who enjoy that can discern subtle differences in vodkas based on what they’re made of (wheat, rye, potatoes, grapes, etc.), although that’s not my thing. However, once you put that in a drink all those subtleties disappear.

The best value in vodka on the market right now is Sobieski, from Poland. It wins blind taste tests left and right against vodkas costing five or more times its price, which is about $11 a bottle. It’s worth seeking out.

Or, the Jag-you-are, if you’re in Britain. (I kid, I kid.)

This one’s from Eastern Standard in Boston, a place where I would undoubtedly be a regular if I lived there (and who were kind enough to have the Hoskins Cocktail on their menu, meaning that to me they are made of awesome), created by Tom Schlesinger-Guidelli, one of their bartenders.

The Jaguar
(by Tom Schlesinger-Guidelli, Eastern Standard, Boston)

1-1/2 ounces silver tequila.
3/4 ounce Amer Picon.
3/4 ounce green Chartreuse.
3 dashes Fee Brothers’ orange bitters.

Stir with ice in a mixing glass for no less than 30 seconds. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Flame an orange peel over the drink, but do not garnish with the peel.

The inspiration to make this came from Paul Clarke’s post on it from a week or so ago, so you can read most of the details there. You’ll probably want to substitute the current reforumlation of Torani Amer, as it’s beautiful stuff; the old Torani Amer’s vegetal-celery notes kinda got in the way the first time I made this drink back in 2007. Jamie Boudreau’s Amer Picon replica would work well too, but if you have actual Amer Picon from France, go for it. The way the tequila works with everything here is beautiful.

Cocktail of the day. Wes’ turn to mix last night, and he turned to an old favorite, Ted “Dr. Cocktail” Haigh’s Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, for one I don’t think we’d actually ever tried.

The Park Avenue Cocktail

2 ounces gin.
3/4 ounce pineapple juice.
3/4 ounce sweet vermouth.
2 teaspoons orange Curaçao.

Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Doc says, “Note the tropical character, invoking Carmen Miranda strutting down a New York boulevard.” In fact, when I took my first whiff of the cocktail I thought he had put passion fruit nectar in it! “I didn’t, but I smell it too,” Wes said. Ah, the alchemy of cocktails.