From Absinthe Brasserie and Bar in San Francisco, which besides being a terrific restaurant is a cocktailian’s paradise, comes this south-of-the-border spin that’s inspired by New Orleans’ famous Vieux Carré Cocktail, invented at the Monteleone Hotel in the 1930s.

We used El Charro Añejo, our favorite tequila at the time of this original post, for this one, although I believe the drink’s creator, bartender Jonny Raglin, specified Herradura. These days (2010) we’d use Partida. To each his or her own!

Nouveau Carré

1-1/2 ounces añejo tequila.
3/4 ounce Bénédictine D.O.M. liqueur.
1/4 ounce Lillet blanc.
5 dashes Peychaud’s bitters.
Lemon twist.

Stir with ice for no less than 30 seconds, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
Twist the lemon peel over the drink, then garnish with the peel.

Have I got your attention? Good.

I recently had a delightful chat with my friend Paul Clarke of The Cocktail Chronicles — if you haven’t found that weblog already, you need to. He told me about a drink he’s been enjoying at one of his local Seattle watering holes, prepared by Jamie Boudreau. It sounded great, and when we tried it as soon as I got home that night, we found out that it was indeed a great one.

Of course, since our conversation was about esoteric cocktail ingredients, you might have a bit of trouble finding one of them … the once-elusive crème de violette. [At the time of this original post] I had been lucky enough to have my folks and a friend each bring me some back from France, and I had a mail-order source for a while — Sally Clarkes Restaurant in London.

The cocktailian world has also been abuzz about the introduction of a violet liqueur from Japan, Hermes Violet. Hard to find as well, but other Hermes liqueurs, plus aromatic and orange bitters, are available at tokyobaron.com. [Fortunately, these days we have Rothman & Winter Crème de Violette more or less readily available.]

If worse comes to shove, you can can mix Monin Violet Syrup (which is available in the U.S.) half and half with 100-proof vodka, which works kinda sorta okay.

There’s an amazing interplay between the violette and the Herbsaint in this drink; they kind of wrestle with each other for a second before embracing each other and leaping out as something entirely other. You have to be very careful in mixing, though. Herbsaint (or any pastis) is very easy to overdo, and can take over a drink. (The same goes for violette, actually, although pastis’ tendency to overwhelm is greater.) Measure only a scant portion of Herbsaint.

The Attention Cocktail
(by Jamie Boudreau)

2 ounces Plymouth gin.
1/4 ounce dry vermouth.
1/4 ounce crème de violette.
1/4 ounce Herbsaint (or absinthe).
2 dashes Regans’ Orange Bitters No. 6.

Combine with ice and stir for at least 30 seconds. Strain into a cocktail glass and enjoy.

We garnished with a curly lemon twist as well.

Thanks for this one, Paul (and Jamie)!

Courtesy of the random recipe function on CocktailDB.com.

Fibber McGee

1-1/2 ounces gin.
1/2 ounce grapefruit juice.
1/2 ounce sweet vermouth.
2 dashes Angostura bitters.

Shake well with ice, strain, serve, enjoy.

Interesting, and tasty. It’s the first time I recall having grapefruit and sweet vermouth together.

Wes dug this one up on DrinkBoy.com — Robert concocted it in 2006 for one of the “Spirited Dinners” during Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans, to accompany a dish at Antoine’s called Filet de truite aux ecrevisses cardinal (de saison). The menu at Antoine’s is in French so, for non-Francophones, filet of trout, grilled or fried, with crawfish tails in season (shrimp out of season) in a white wine sauce.

We were both surprised at how much better it turned out than we thought it would, and this was with Old Overholt as the rye. It’s really terrific with Rittenhouse 100.

The Stargazer

1-1/2 ounces rye whiskey.
1-1/2 ounces Lillet blanc.
1-2 dashes Angostura bitters.

Combine with ice and stir for no less than 30 seconds. Garnish with a thin slice of lemon peel, after expressing the lemon oil into the drink.

If I manage to get ahold of some quinine I might put in a tiny pinch as per Wondrich’s idea with the Vesper, and see what kind of interesting things happen. (I might also look into making a tincture of quinine to add a small dash to anything that might require a little extra bitter edge … *add to to-do list*).

I know that Capt. Jean-Luc Picard was more of a wine drinker, but I think if he had a signature cocktail this might be it, as it bears the same name as the ship of his first command. Then again, Jean-Luc might prefer something Cognac-based …

We had a bunch of people over Saturday night for a potluck and cocktail tasting, which was tons of fun. It was a lot of the same folks who came to our wine tasting last year, and this was even better because this time around we knew a lot more about what we were talking about (heh). We served taster-sized (about 1.5-2 oz.) portions of four different drinks: the Corpse Reviver No. 2, the Mother-in-Law Cocktail, the Widow’s Kiss and this one, a lovely variation on the daiquiri. This was the house cocktail at the El Floridita Hotel in Havana, Cuba, and the recipe comes from the hotel bar’s recipe booklet, printed in the 1930s.

In fact, this is how Daiquiris are made at Boadas Bar in Barcelona, Spain. The bar was founded in 1933 by Miguel Boadas, a Havana-born Cuban of Catalan parents, and is still run by his family. Their Floridita-style Daiquiris are served in coupes over crushed ice, which would be a good idea for this drink as well.

The El Floridita No. 1

2 ounces light rum.
3/4 ounce fresh squeezed lime juice.
1/2 ounce simple syrup.
1/4 ounce maraschino liqueur.

Combine with ice in a cocktail shaker, shake for at least 10-12 seconds and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. No garnish is specified, but Boadas uses a cocktail cherry, and a lime wheel wouldn’t be inappropriate if you so choose.

We made this with 10 Cane Rum, a relatively new agricole-style rum from Trinidad that we like a lot. At Boadas you get Havana Club (of course).

[UPDATED February 3, 2010]