Still exploring our new bottles of Hayman’s Old Tom Gin, and enjoying every drop. Killer Martinezes, lovely Tom Collinses, although we have yet to try it in a Ramos Fizz. (I keep forgetting to get eggs and cream at the store … next week for sure.) Tonight for inspiration I delved into CocktailDB, and came up with this one. The original recipes called for an ounce each of Old Tom and sweet vermouth, plus a half-ounce of Crème de Violette, with a dash of orange bitters. To my taste (in fact, probably to most contemporary tastes) this seems horribly sweet, but a possibly intriguing flavor combination with the right balance. I decided to increase the gin and vermouth to 1-1/2 ounces each, and reduce the violette to a teaspoon. Then I realized that this basically makes a Martinez with violette swapped out for the maraschino. That sounded interesting.

Rothman & Winter make the most readily available Crème de Violette.

The Demeanor Cocktail
(Chuck’s variation)

1-1/2 ounces Old Tom gin.
1-1/2 ounces sweet vermouth.
1 teaspoon Crème de Violette.
1 dash orange bitters.

Combine with ice and stir for 30 seconds. Garnish with a lemon twist.

It was … well, certainly interesting. Wes found it “viscous,” even though the only difference between this and the Martinezes he’s been loving recently is the 1 tsp. of violette instead of 1 tsp. of maraschino. We use Maraska maraschino most of the time, which we find to be a bit drier than the Luxardo (which is still excellent), and perhaps he was reacting just to the level of sweetness of the violette combined with the sweet vermouth and the sweetened gin. He thought it was too sweet; “I wouldn’t order it again.” I think this has promise, although I think it needs more tweaking. I’d try to get a little more vitterness going by using Punt E Mes for the vermouth, and I might even try a London dry gin too. Yay, tinkering is fun!

Have any of y’all tried this one? What do you think?

No, it’s not farming subsidies or drill-baby-drill. It’s Cocktail of the Day.

Here’s the one we had the other night, a signature drink of the island nation of Barbados, whence falernum originated. I understand that this drink was originally made with Barbados rum (which makes perfect sense), but a few years ago Murray Stenson of the Zig Zag in Seattle suggested to Paul Clarke that this drink be made with one particular type of rum, which looks like something you’d pour in your crankcase and seems as if it would pack a powerful wallop … but makes a stunningly beautiful drink.

Cruzan Black Strap Rum is made not just from regular molasses, as is most rum, but from blackstrap molasses, which comes from the third boiling of sugar syrup in the sugar making process. Oddly enough, although it has the calories of sugar it’s quite good for you, containing vitamins and minerals, including calcium, magnesium, potassium and iron. (Here’s hoping that at least a bit of that carries through to the hooch.) If you’re a lover of molasses, particularly sorghum molasses for all you Midwesterners, you’ll love this rum. Having watched Wes drizzle Kansas sorghum on his biscuits (which is a bit much even for me), I knew he’d love this stuff too.

I’ve seen a number of slight variations — amount of falernum, bitters or not, lime juice or not — but the drink does seem to gain some wonderful brighness from the addition of fresh lime, and although the bitters have a tendency to be stomped on by this rum you can add a few dashes if you like, enough for the spice to peek through the heavy molasses flavor.

If you’re using the homemade Falernum No. 10 posted earlier, a half-ounce works well. With John D. Taylor’s Velvet Falernum, the consensus seems to be to cut that back to 1/4 ounce, and I agree.

Although the drink might look as if it’s made with 10W-40, it contains neither oil nor corn.

Corn ‘n Oil

2 ounces Cruzan Black Strap Rum.
1/2 ounce Falernum No. 10.
2-3 dashes Angostura bitters (optional).
2 lime wedges, about 1/4 lime.

Build over ice in an Old Fashioned glass, and you may leave the squeezed lime wedges in the drink. Stir for at least a quarter-minute before serving.

In looking at the Cruzan Rum website, I’ve learned something new. I’ve always heard the brand pronounced like “CREW-ZAN,” equal stress on the syllables, and pronounced it that way myself. The website features an introduction by the guy who makes the stuff, and he says “CRU-zhin.” I had no idea.

We’re so looking forward to the 2008 vice presidential debate tonight. There was really only once choice.

The Alaska Cocktail

1-1/2 ounces gin.
1/2 ounce yellow Chartreuse.

Combine with ice, stir for no less than 30 seconds and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Garnish with a freshly shot and field-dressed moose.

Okay, you can leave out that garnish. I’ll … find another garnish and get back to ya!

Murray said he’d be making this one tonight:

The Snicker Cocktail

1-1/2 ounces gin.
1/2 ounce dry vermouth.
1/4 ounce maraschino liqueur.
1/2 teaspoon simple syrup.
1 dash orange bitters.
1 egg white.

Dry shake the ingredients without ice for half a minute, then add the ice and shake for 15 seconds or so. Strain into a cocktail glass.

Hey, that sounds good.

I was craving that gin punch.

At the kickoff of Plymouth Gin’s Historic Los Angeles Cocktail Tour last month (which I still haven’t written about, because I’m a lazy bastard and God Emperor of Procrastination), Dave Wondrich handed us each a flask filled with what he described simply as “gin punch.” It was great.

A couple of weekends ago Wes and I were asked if we wanted to bring cocktails to a pool party and barbecue we had been invited to. The answer to that is always “Yes!” but often we tend to feel more like enjoying the party than mixing drinks the whole time, particularly when a pool is involved. This is one of those times that calls for punch, and my mind snapped back to Dave’s gin punch and how much I enjoyed it.

I went right for my copy of his marvelous book Imbibe! (the work copy, that is; we have two copies of it — one pristine and autographed, and the other one that we’re beating the crap out of in our kitchen and bar, and which already has a cracked spine and loose pages). There on page 77 was a punch recipe that seemed awfully similar to the one we had that day, and was undoubtedly It.

Given who the sponsor was, the gin we had that day was Plymouth, although the original recipe from the early- to mid-1800s was based on “Holland gin,” or genever. If you want to be authentic, make it with an oude genever, or try Maytag’s excellent Genevieve Genever-style Gin. Dave says even a London dry will work, and that’s what we used, because we had about 2 liters of Beefeater on hand and didn’t want to use up all our Boomsma or Genevieve.

For the raspberry syrup you can use Monin or even Torani in a pinch. The best raspberry syrup we’ve ever come across is from Harry and David, those folks that sell the amazing (and amazingly expensive) flats of fruit as gifts, and lots of other expensive bottled and bagged stuff too. Their raspberry syrup is amazing, richly flavored of fresh berries, not too sweet, and stays well-blended in the drink. Problem is, I just checked their online catalog and it doesn’t seem to be listed anymore. (D’oh.) As far as I can tell the product is discontinued.

Dr. Cocktail is fond of Smucker’s Raspberry Syrup, and it’s really good too. We found that it’s heavy and has a tendency to sink to the bottom of a drink rather than stay blended. This is not necessarily a bad thing — it just means you shouldn’t dawdle over your drink!

Or hell, just make your own.

Raspberry Syrup

2 cups fresh raspberries.
1-1/2 cups sugar, plus 2 tablespoons.
2-1/2 cups water.
1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice.

Combine the raspberries, 2 tablespoons of sugar and 1 cup of water in a saucepan and cook gently over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the berries begin to break down and release their juices, about 5 minutes.

Add the rest of the water and the lemon juice. Bring to a boil then immediate reduce to a low simmer, skimming any foam that forms. Simmer, stirring frequently, for 15 minutes.

Pour through a strainer, and press the fruit to squeeze out all the juices. Return to the pan, add the rest of the sugar. Stir until sugar dissolves, bring to a boil again and immediately reduce heat to a low simmer; simmer for 2 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool

Bottle and store in refrigerator for up to 4 weeks.

YIELD: About 3 cups.

We didn’t have any raspberry syrup on hand, so we ended up kicking it up a bit by substituting the venerable Chambord black raspberry liqueur (which is made with blackberries as well). I had a lot of it on hand, after judging a local Chambord-sponsored cocktail competition a couple of weeks ago (and no, I haven’t written about that yet either, sigh).

I multiplied the recipe below by twelve to serve everyone, and had enough left over for us to have a nice li’l bowl of punch in the fridge for a few days. I think I might have to keep that practice up. Anyway, here’s the version of the punch I made, in a single-serving size:

Gin Punch
(Chuck’s version, based on the 19th Century recipe in Imbibe!)

3 ounces Beefeater gin.
1-1/2 ounces water.
3/4 ounce fresh lemon juice.
1/2 ounce Chambord (or raspberry syrup).
1/2 ounce simple syrup.
1 teaspoon maraschino liqueur.

Serve over ice in tall glasses, garnished with a slice of orange and berries in season. Provide straws for sipping.

This was good. They put a lot of this stuff away at the barbecue, and were very complimentary. Don’t let its pinkness put you off, though. It’ll knock you on your keister if you’re not careful. (A couple of people at the party cut it with lemonade, about 80% punch to 20% lemonade. Try some of the fizzy French-style, which would probably be very good in this.)

I could have used a big drink right around the time I found out my bank had failed, but I only saw the news right before I went to bed. (Come to think of it, a big shot of Cognac would not have been untoward, but I just went to bed instead.) Fortunately we had had a lovely drink last night, and a New Orleans original by Arnaud’s French 75 bartender Chris Hannah, who served this to Paul Clarke during Tales and gave him the recipe.

This kind of imagination, creativity and willingness to make needed ingredients from scratch is what makes Chris one of the very best bartenders in the city. This is also my kind of drink — bitter and herbal! But that’s not the main flavor profile, only part of a more complex whole, with the tiki-spiced sweetness of the falernum and the lovely warm vanilla-sugar-toast of the rum as the base spirit. The name also can’t be beat — it comes from the New Orleans neighborhood in the Ninth Ward where my mom and uncles grew up, where my grandparents had their neighborhood corner grocery, and where I spent a lot of time as a kid.

The Bywater Cocktail
(Created by Chris Hannah, Arnaud’s French 75 Bar, New Orleans)

1-3/4 ounces Cruzan Estate Diamond Rum, 5 years old (or Cruzan Single Barrel).
3/4 ounce Amer Boudreau (or Torani Amer).
1/2 ounce green Chartreuse.
1/2 ounce falernum.

Stir with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Those are Chris’ recommendations for the rum, but any aged, smooth rum would probably work. I would imagine that the new reformulation of Torani Amer would work well too.

Although we did enjoy it the version I made was not quite there — I have a good supply of homemade Amer Boudreau, New Orleans 3 year old dark rum sat in for the Cruzan (all I had Cruzan-wise was our house pouring rum, the Cruzan 2 year) but at the time I made this I had yet to make a batch of my own falernum. I flipped a coin between John D. Taylor’s Velvet Falernum and Fee Brothers Falernum syrup, and it came up tails. While the Fee’s works well in tropical drinks it was too sweet for this drink, and threw the balance off. (We drank it anyway; even though it was unbalanced I do try not to let good booze go to waste, and it was almost there.) Paul’s absolutely right that the drink needs the acid of the lime juice from the homemade falernum for balance.

[UPDATE: This drink would work really well with Taylor’s Falernum, but it’s quite spectacular with homemade.]