Greetings, felicitations and welcome to MxMo 39! Entries are beginning to trickle in, and I expect a veritable flood of them as the day goes on. Besides posting your entry on your own blog, please post a comment to this topic (and as a backup, email me at mr.sazerac at gmail dot com), and please try to do so by midnight tonight — well, at least in your time zone. I won’t start doing the roundup until tomorrow, and I hope to have it up by Wednesday.

In case you missed the announcement post here or MixologyMonday.com, the theme for this month is amaro — bitter liqueurs generally intended to consume after a meal as a digestive, typical of but certainly not limited to Italy, and the use of those bitters in cocktails. Why did I choose this topic? Because over the last several years I have become an amaro freak.

It’s been a long journey since 2000, when I took my first sip of Fernet Branca — such a baptism of fire for my first experience with amaro! Sadly, no camera was present to capture the look on my face after taking my first sip, nor was a recorder running to note what was certainly some choice language. In the ensuing years, after samplng more gentle amari and working my way up, I finally had my amaro epiphany, which was the day when I started drinking Fernet Branca not strictly for medicinal purposes after overindulging my tummy, but for pleasure and enjoyment. Now my amaro collection is pretty decent, if I do say so myself (and ripe for expansion): Amaro Abano, Amaro Cora, Amaro Meletti, Amaro Mio Lorenzo Inga, Amaro Montenegro, Amaro Nonino, Amaro Ramazzotti, Amaro di Santa Maria al Monte di Nicola Uignale, Amer Boudreau, Amer Picon Club, Aperol, Averna, Campari, Cynar, Fernet Branca, Gammel Dansk, Jeppson’s Malört, Maraska Pelinkovac, Suze, Torani Amer, Underberg and Zwack Unicum … plus one more which is my most recent acquisition.

Borsci Elisir San Marzano was one I’d seen passing references to but had never tried until a few bottles showed up at The Wine House, one of my two major spirits emporia and where a significant chunk of my paycheck is deposited every other week. I took it home, poured some into our nice little amaro sipping glasses, and lit up. It’s on the milder end of the amaro spectrum, more hefty than Montenegro, which is my mildest, but one that I thought might be appealing to amaro newbies. The bitter herbs and sweetness are in perfect balance, but there’s a lot more going on in this liqueur — dried fruits, especially figs and plums, touches of chocolate and coffee as well. The liqueur’s been around since 1840, developed in Puglia, Italy by Giuseppe Borsci in the tradition of herbal liqueurs developed by European monks.

I looked it up and found interesting recipes on Borsci’s website, although none for cocktails, oddly enough. The first recipe (which I also found in its listing on LeNell’s website was to soak fresh cherries in it, which sounds fantastic. Grapes were recommended for soaking in a simliar fashion, and there was a fascinating procedure for layering almond-stuffed dried figs with chocolate flakes in a jar, then filling with Borsci amaro. There was Borsci tiramisù, Borsci birthday cake, Borsci over strawberries and even over ice cream. All looked good, yet still no cocktails. I seem to have stumbled across my first dessert amaro.

However, it’s recommended chilled or in long drinks as an aperitivo, plus at room temperature as an excellent digestivo, which after several such after-dinner tipplages I can assure you it is, although not as powerfully medicinal as some other amari. After my first sips, though, I started thinking about how I’d use this in a cocktail.

The first thing that came to me was a Manhattan variation. There are several such variations out there that feature various amari (The Red Hook and Little Italy, both favorites, to name two), but it seemed to me that this amaro would work particularly well with a powerful rye base. The hints of chocolate in the this amaro’s flavor base led me to want to pair it with something similar, but by no means did I want this drink to be too sweet, or gods forbid, something desserty. Flavors that would lend itself to an after-meal cocktail, sure, or a lead-in to dessert, but not a “dessert cocktail” per se. Crème de cacao, even the less cloyingly sweet version from Marie Brizard, would be right out, and the only ingredient that seemed right was, oddly enough, something I had never tasted.

Those of us who are bitters fanatics have been waiting with bated breath for the eventual release of the products being developed and produced by the one of the newer cocktail bitters companies, Bittermens. They’d been working on a tantalizing and exciting range of products ranging from “tiki” bitters to hop/grapefruit to pecan bitters, but the one that got my scalp tingling in anticipation was their “Xocolatl Mole” chocolate spice bitters. As they described them: “Inspired by the classic Mexican chocolate mole sauce, this bitters recipe highlights tequila, aged rum and whiskey cocktails. Try substituting these bitters in a Manhattan, or adding to a Margarita.” Holy crapola. I was tremendously excited to hear about this, and disappointed to hear of delay after delay due, oddly enough, not to difficulties vetting them with the TTB, but with local and state health and production permits. And after tasting the Borsci, even though I had never tasted Bittermens Mole Bitters, I knew this was just what my tentative Borsci cocktail needed. (Unless I was completely wrong.)

To add to my frustration, Bittermens sent out a number of samples to bartenders (naturally) and to a few cocktail writers, none of which included me. (Well, other folks to get higher readership, so it made perfect sense.) That didn’t help my writhing jealousy as I read my friend Paul Clarke’s glowing review of his sample of these bitters a year ago January. I was Chartreuse with envy, but knew I just had to wait. Once my taste of Borsci came along, I must confess I grew more impatient — this stuff would go great with Borsci in a cocktail, I just knew it. Bittermens posted periodic updates, and it looked as if we’d finally be able to get our hands on a fully released product a bit later this year … but not in time for my idea for a drink that would be perfect for the MxMo topic I suggested for my turn to host.

Well, all ended well with Wes’ and my long-overdue visit to see all our friends in Seattle in April, and Paul very graciously and generously offered me a small sample from his sample bottle of bitters so I could see if my idea would work. Y’know what? It worked. I’m just a lucky so-and-so … thanks a million, Paul!

I was pretty happy with the drink as I had conceived it, but thought it needed one more little boost, just a tad of Cherry Heering to offer that compementary cherry flavor, I hope without making it too sweet — we get more than enough of that from the amaro itself, and the vermouth. I first tried it with Carpano and while the flavor was good the sweetness was a bit past the line for me. I was much happier with Punt E Mes and its more bitter edge. I also took some advice from bartender Don Lee, who offered this bit of advice regarding another amaro-based drink I was working on — add a tiny pinch of salt. Bingo.

I’m pretty happy with this, and as the Manhattan got to be named after a borough in New York, and as I was lucky enough to get to create a drink named for part of Los Angeles a while back, I wanted to have one named after my own neighborhood.

Use a big rye for this. We’re deeply, madly in love with the bonded 100 proof Rittenhouse rye, which is a fantastic product, priced between $16-18 $21-23 and without a doubt the best rye value on the market. After that try Wild Turkey 101 rye, and we’re even tempted to give this one a go with Thomas Handy.

Since I first came up with this, I’ve become fond of a cherry liqueur that I like better than Cherry Heering in many applications, including this one — Luxardo Morlacco cherry liqueur. It has a purer cherry flavor that for me worked a bit better with the Borsci. Heering will still work as a substitute, though.

The Eagle Rock Cocktail

2 ounces Rittenhouse 100 proof bonded rye whiskey.
1/2 ounce Punt E Mes.
1/2 ounce Amaro Borsci San Marzano.
1 scant barspoon Cherry Heering.
2-3 goodly dashes Bittermens Xocolatl Mole Bitters.
Tiny pinch of salt.

Combine with ice in a mixing glass and stir for 30 seconds. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with a Luxardo cherry.

I love one of these after work, and I also liked it after dinner, leading into a big chocolate dessert — I thought it was a lovely transition. Then again, as I write, I’m enjoying one before dinner too. I hope you enjoy it too. If you have a hard time finding Bittermens bitters locally you can mail-order them from a variety of sources; the Google is your friend.

To all the participants in MxMo Amaro, thanks for all your entries so far! We tried a couple last nigiht and got luxuriously toasted. Everyone else, please get your entries posted on your own sites with a comment here by midnight tonight, and I’ll get to work on the roundup.

[N.B. – This post has been revised since its original publication. When this post was first written, Bittermens Xocolatl Mole Bitters hadn’t been released yet, and I was working from a sample. It is now, to the joy of cocktailians everywhere, widely available.]

Here’s my entry in the Monteleone Hotel’s cocktail competition — the hope is that this drink gets to be called “The Monteleone Cocktail” for good. As you may recall from previous posts over the past couple of weeks, the Monteleone Hotel in New Orleans is hosting a cocktail contest for their new signature drink, in honor of the 60th anniversary of their legendary and venerable Carousel Bar. The competition will no doubt be as stiff as the drinks, so wish me luck!

While I wasn’t really using the hotel’s other signature drink, the Vieux Carré, as a jumping-off point, I did want to have rye as a base spirit. As it turned out, there’s a slight similarity between the drinks in some of the proportions, but this goes off in a different direction, with a balance of bitter and sweet and spicy and malty that Wes and I both really liked. Here’s hoping you like it too (not to mention the contest judges!).

The Monteleone Cocktail
(Tentatively named pending cocktail contest results.)

Rue Royale
(Renamed, as another cocktail was chosen for the contest winner)

1 ounce Sazerac Rye (6 Year).
1 ounce Bols Genever.
1 ounce Dolin Vermouth Blanc.
1/2 ounce Averna.
2 dashes Peychaud’s Bitters.
1 dash Regans’ Orange Bitters No. 6.
Orange peel.

Combine ingredients with cracked ice and stir for 30 seconds. Strain into a chilled cocktail coupe and garnish with the orange peel after giving it a mighty twist.

The rye is there to provide a solid foundation of whiskey and spice, and is there for New Orleans. I was fascinated by the combination of whiskey and genever, which the malty, whiskey-like characteristic of this genever in particular. (My original idea was to try this with Ransom Old Tom Gin, a new barrel-aged Old Tom co-developed by David Wondrich, which I tasted in Seattle and went mad for, but it’s not available yet.) I wanted an aromatized wine as a moderator, and the newly-imported Dolin Blanc is a fantastic product I’ve fallen completely in love with. It’s a sweet white vermouth, along the lines of a bianco from Cinzano or Martini & Rossi but with a really tremendous flavor, and with the sweetness held back a bit. The Averna is because I love amaro, because wanted a pleasantly bitter element which the Dolin helps balance well, and also to honor the Sicilian heritage of Signor Antonio Monteleone, the founder of the hotel. Peychaud’s for spice and for the city, and as I was trying out early incarnations and got close, we thought it needed one little extra bit of brightness, which the orange bitters provide.

Well, that’s my story, anyway, and I’m sticking to it.

If it doesn’t win I’ll still keep making it, and it’ll just get renamed. Maybe I’ll call it the Antonio, after Signor Monteleone. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves; I’d rather it be called the Monteleone.

UPDATE, 5/22/2009: Alas, another cocktail won the contest, but I think this drink is a keeper. It’s being renamed the “Rue Royale.” (Thanks to Wes for the name suggestion!) And congratulations to contest winner Brian Robinson of The Wormwood Society.

Dayne showed us this one when we were visiting them in Seattle a couple of weeks ago (pictures and cocktail recipes and food porn coming soon, I promise!), and it’s a really good one. We’ll be having this at home for cocktail hour tonight — something to focus on for the end of a long work day.

This one comes from the highlyi talented Misty Kalkofen of Drink in Boston, where she is bartender and Mistress of Ice, and Lauren Clark of Drink Boston, both of whom are also members of LUPEC, Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails (“Dismantling the patriarchy one drink at a time!” … yeah you rite!).

I’m not sure where Dayne got this particular description he forwarded to me when I asked him for the recipe, but I will reproduce it verbatim, because it’s too much fun to simply boil down to a list of ingredients.

The Red Rot Cocktail,
which Rather Resembles the Noxious Liquid Medicine
for Moldy Red Leather-bound Books but Nonetheless
Pleases the Palate.
(Created by Misty Kalkofen of Drink and Lauren Clark of drinkboston.com)

To one jigger of London dry gin, add
add one half-ounce each of
St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur,
Cherry Heering and
fresh lemon juice, and
two goodly dashes of Peychaud’s Bitters.

Shake vigorously with ice and turn into a Champagne saucer.

Loverly. And it doesn’t look nearly as noxious as the vile green allergy medicine I had to take when I was a kid.

Well no, our Cocktail of the Day is not a tequila cocktail, since we skipped a post for Cinco de Mayo (and drank lovely Tequila Old Fashioneds: 2 oz. Partida Añejo, 1 tsp. agave nectar, 1 dash each of Angostura Aromatic and Angostura Orange Bitters, and a big swath of grapefruit peel). It’s one I read about in Eric Felten’s column in the Wall Street Journal back in February … ahh, I’m nothing if not procrastinatory.

Paul Clarke has been truly kicking butt the last couple of weeks with his “Thirty in Thirty” series, a cocktail post a day for a month. Last Sunday he wrote about a fantastic-sounding drink called the Theobroma (theobroma cacao being, of course, the Latin name for the cacao bean that brings us all that nummy chocolate) in which he quoted a rule from the Esquire Drinks Database: “There is no such thing as a Chocolate Martini!”.

This is true, but as Eric points out in his article (and some fine examples from Paul), although chocolate as a cocktail ingredient has been badly misused over the past few decades there is indeed historical precedent as well as some great uses, if done carefully and with the proper balance. As I rule I dislike sweet cocktails, so you’re already treading on dangerous ground, but it certainly can be done.

I’m also cautious about dessert cocktails, and the one Eric wrote about certainly falls into that category for me. But despite the fact that it’s 2 parts spirit to 1 part liqueur it doesn’t seem overly sweet and was just the thing after our dinner the other night.

Key to this drink, I think, is finding Marie Brizard’s dark crème de cacao, which has less sweetness and higher proof as well as a deeper chocolate flavor than most inexpensive liqueurs of its kind. Heering is, of course, welcome in so many cocktails I like already, and unsurprisingly it plays very well with the other ingredients. Once Bittermens Xocolatl Mole Bitters is on the market, I’d bet this would benefit from a dash of that too, like Paul’s Theobroma.

The Dolores Cocktail
(adapted by Eric Felten)

2 ounces Spanish brandy, or any brandy. (We used Don Pedro.)
1/2 ounce Marie Brizard dark Crème de Cacao.
1/2 ounce Cherry Heering.

Combine with ice and stir for 20-30 seconds. Strain into your prettiest cocktail glass and garnish with a brandied cherry.

Try making this one if someone comes over and asks for a “Chocolate Martini.” This is a chocolate drink for grown-ups.

Happy Derby Day! Seems like such a lot of hoohah and folderol for a race that lasts about two minutes, but hey, it’s tradition, and any excuse to drink a mint julep is a good one. The celebrations and parties are more fun for me than the race, anyway.

Fine Bourbon whiskey, a little simple syrup, very gently bruised mint, lots of crushed ice, and lots more mint on top. That’s all there is to it. That’s how it’s done.

I’ve been served some damned poor excuses for what some people dared to call a “Mint Julep” in my day, and unfortunately it put me off them completely for years. The first and worst was from Pat O’Brien’s in the French Quarter. It was a sweet, horrid concoction made with some artificially-colored bright green mint syrup. The bartender actually mocked me when he served me that abomination he had just made, saying, “There ya go, brah … ya gonna have da freshest breath in town.” I thought I hated Mint Juleps. It turned out to be a simple thing, though — I had just never had one made properly. Ever. Until, thank the Cosmos, I did.

I can’t do it justice here. I now place you in the masterful hands of the man who’s one of the great bartenders of the City of New Orleans, Mr. Chris McMillian. You will never have a finer mint julep, or a finer mint julep experience, than ordering one of them from him. Don’t be in a hurry; it takes time. Don’t be in a hurry with this drink, either.

“Then comes the zenith of man’s pleasure.
Then comes the julep – the mint julep.
Who has not tasted one has lived in vain.
The honey of Hymettus brought no such solace to the soul;
the nectar of the Gods is tame beside it.
It is the very dream of drinks, the vision of sweet quaffings.

“The Bourbon and the mint are lovers.
In the same land they live, on the same food they are fostered.
The mint dips its infant leaf into the same stream
that makes the bourbon what it is.
The corn grows in the level lands through which small streams meander.
By the brook-side the mint grows.
As the little wavelets pass, they glide up to kiss the feet of the growing mint,
the mint bends to salute them.
Gracious and kind it is, living only for the sake of others.
The crushing of it only makes its sweetness more apparent.
Like a woman’s heart, it gives its sweetest aroma when bruised.
Among the first to greet the spring, it comes.
Beside the gurgling brooks that make music in the pastures it lives and thrives.

“When the Blue Grass begins to shoot its gentle sprays toward the sun,
mint comes, and its sweetest soul drinks at the crystal brook.
It is virgin then. But soon it must be married to Old Bourbon.
His great heart, his warmth of temperament,
and that affinity which no one understands, demand the wedding.
How shall it be?

“Take from the cold spring some water, pure as angels are;
mix it with sugar until it seems like oil.
Then take a glass and crush your mint within it with a spoon —
crush it around the borders of the glass and leave no place untouched.
Then throw the mint away — it is a sacrifice.

“Fill with cracked ice the glass;
pour in the quantity of Bourbon which you want.
It trickles slowly through the ice.
Let it have time to cool, then pour your sugared water over it.
No spoon is needed, no stirring is allowed —
just let it stand a moment.
Then around the brim place sprigs of mint,
so that the one who drinks may find a taste and odor at one draught.

“Then when it is made, sip it slowly.

August suns are shining, 
the breath of the south wind is upon you.

It is fragrant, cold and sweet -– it is seductive.

No maiden’s kiss is tenderer or more refreshing,

no maiden’s touch could be more passionate.

Sip it and dream -– you cannot dream amiss.

Sip it and dream –- it is a dream itself.

No other land can give so sweet solace for your cares;

no other liquor soothes you in melancholy days.
Sip it and say there is no solace for the soul,

no tonic for the body like old Bourbon whiskey.”

— Joshua Soule Smith, Kentucky Colonel
Published in the Lexington Herald in the 1880s