Matt Rowley is hosting MxMo this month, and his chosen theme reflects our economic hard times as well as heis own — he got laid off recently (eep!). Liquor, as we know, isn’t cheap (not the good stuff, at least), and Matt wrote a wonderful post on taking stock of your liquor cabinet and making do with what you have on hand. This is good advice in general, not just for hard times.

I should probably do what he suggests. I have a general idea of where everything is, kinda sorta how much of it, but we’ve got an insanely big bar — hundreds of bottles — that it can get away from me. A regular dusting and once-over is a terrific idea (organizing all our stuff wouldn’t be bad, either).

Wesly and I have been lucky — neither of us has been laid off, and we’re pretty safe at our respective jobs (it helps to be considered indispensible; it gets annoying when they give you a hard time about taking time off — “Whatever shall we do without you?!” — but that translates into job security). We haven’t had to take a hard look at doing anything like not-buying liquor, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t be frugal.

Matt found a great bargain in Bulleit Bourbon, one that I like a lot as well, a mere $19.99 at Trader Joe’s. You can get a decent Bourbon for even less than that, and for that we turn to our old friend and relative … Old Grand-Dad.

I can hear some of you now. “Bottom shelf!” is one cry from the back benches. Well, true, it does have a bottom shelf price — we get it at Beverage Warehouse for a whopping $9.95. Don’t be fooled by the low price, though. While it’s not exactly one I’d choose for sipping straight (although that’s certainly doable), it mixes very well, especially in one particular favorite that doesn’t get as much attention as it deserves. More on that in a bit.

Old Grand-Dad is a venerable brand, dating back to 1882 and was initially made by the Wathen family distillery (who also owned The American Medicinal Spirits Company, who produced some very much-needed medicine during Prohibition).

I’d read a number of reports that Old Grand-Dad was significantly better when it was made by National Distillers before 1987. Using the Google revealed a number of comments along the lines of, “My grandparents used to drink this stuff.” In ’87 the brand was sold to Jim Beam, and many folks have said it’s not what it once was. I can’t say, as I don’t recall having tasted it straight prior to the change in ownership, nor was my childhood palate able to discern much of anything. The word is, though, that if you come across a vintage bottle you should snap it up. (Odd bit of trivia: the portrait of the grand-dad on the label is Basil Hayden, a renowned distiller in the 18th and 19th Centurues whose picture doesn’t appear on the label of the Beam-made small batch whiskey that’s actually named after him.) “Bottom shelf” is more of a reflection of its price, but flavor-wise, at least for mixing, it’s better than that. There’s also a bonded version (100 proof by law) that’s even better, but with a higher price, and I’ve seen a 114 proof version but haven’t tried that one as yet.

As my sipping Bourbons tend toward the higher-end stuff, I realized I had never actually tasted Old Grand-Dad neat. I decided to pour a shot of the regular 86 proof product into our lovely Riedel Bourbon glasses to give the straight stuff a sniff and a sip, and see what we’re up to here.

Nice color, with caramel, oak and a little vanilla on the nose, plus a touch of spice from the rye content in the mash. More caramel and vanilla and oak on the palate, and a significant amount of alcohol heat but not too bad, long finish. Not my first choice for a sipping whiskey by any means, but certainly sippable, especially on the rocks. Best of all, for $9.95 per 750ml bottle it’s a significant bargain if Buffalo Trace, Maker’s Mark or Bulleit (all bargains themselves) are still stretching the budget too far.

All that to say, while it’s drinkable straight it’s far better when mixed, and Wes and I tended to keep it around primarily for one drink of which we’re rather fond — the venerable Whiskey Sour.

Along with the Old Fashioned, this was one of the main drinks I grew up around and was one of my dad’s favorites (along with what the family called a “Highball,” consisting of Seagram’s V.O. and 7UP). It was the one I tended to get sips of most often, and is underrated by a lot of cocktail folks, I think. Very refreshing, very tasty, a classic. And Old Grand-Dad makes mighty fine Whiskey Sours. You don’t really need a high-end Bourbon for these, although you certainly could if you wanted and if you can afford it. But in keeping with tough times, this $9.95 whiskey is really all you need.

Simple syrup for your cocktails is cheap to make too, just a cup of sugar to a cup of water, and shake the hell out of it until it’s dissolved (and a splash of vodka as a preservative). I wanted something a bit more complex than a regular sour, though, so given the Carnival season in full swing I decided to pull this drink out again. I’ve posted it before (and to my chagrin I note that I posted it only four months ago … I really do have no proper sense of the passage of time), but it’s a good example of cocktail frugality, if not quite as frugal as the Whiskey Sour. In case you missed it the last time I posted it, here’s the Falernum recipe I use:

Falernum No. 10
(by Paul Clarke)

6 ounces Wray & Nephew Overproof White Rum (63% abv).
Zest of 9 limes, preferably organic.
50 cloves, toasted.
2 tablespoons blanched slivered almonds, toasted.
1/2 tsp almond extract.
1-1/2 ounces fresh ginger, peeled and julienned.
14 ounces rich (2:1) simple syrup, cold preparation.

Zest the limes carefully with a microplane grater, zester or vegetable peeler, making sure to leave all the white pith behind. Toast the cloves in a dry skillet over medium heat, shaking frequently, just until they begin to become aromatic, then remove from heat. Toast the almonds, shaking frequently, until they begin to turn light brown, then remove from heat. Add the lime zest, cloves, almonds and ginger to the rum in a pint-sized jar and allow to infuse for 24 hours, shaking occasionally. Strain the infusion through moistened cheesecloth, and squeeze to get every drop of liquid out. Filter if necessary.

To make the simple syrup, add 2 cups sugar and 1 cup cold water to a large jar. Seal the lid and shake like hell until the sugar is completely dissolved. (C’mon, you need the workout.) Measure 14 ounces of syrup (you’ll have a little extra); add the rum infusion to the syrup and shake to combine. Store in refrigerator.

I did finally remember where I got this recipe — a site called Mr. Lucky, which has a small cocktail section (which doesn’t seem to have been updated in ages). They came up with the idea of replacing the simple syrup in a Whiskey Sour with falernum, giving the drink a more complex and brighter flavor profile and a nice dose of the Caribbean (New Orleans being the northernmost Caribbean port, as some say). I did a little tweaking of the original recipe and added the egg white for the nicer body and frothy head you get in a proper sour.

The final bit of frugality for this drink was picking a free lemon off the tree in our front yard (which is bearing beautifully even in mid-February; I love fruit trees that bear all year long). It astonishes me to go into a big chain supermarket like Ralph’s and see lemons selling for anywhere from 79¢ to 99¢ APIECE. What absurd price-gouging. At the smaller Latino markets in Highland Park near where we live, or even at the Super A supermarket, lemons tend to go for 99¢ a pound or less; limes are often selling for 3 pounds for 99¢. Do your best to find small produce markets in your neighborhood — this is a good idea for most of your produce, not just for the citrus. We find fantastic quality stuff for a fraction of what you pay at the supermarket. Local farmer’s markets are also a great value. Even better … I’d strongly urge any cocktail fans to plant one lemon and one lime tree if they have room for it. A regular supply of free citrus for your drinks is a very good thing. And if you’re actually paying nearly a buck PER lemon, the tree will pay for itself very quickly.

So, apologies if you feel this is a rerun, but you really should try it if you haven’t already.

Mardi Gras Sour
(Adapted from Mr. Lucky’s Cocktails)

2 ounces Old Grand-Dad Bourbon whiskey.
1 ounce fresh lemon juice.
3/4 ounce Falernum No. 10.
1 teaspoon egg white.

Combine with ice in a cocktail shaker and shake like hell until the shaker’s so cold it hurts. Strain into a sour glass or some kind of pretty stemmed glass (about 5 oz.), and garnish with a proper brandied (or preferably whiskied) cherry.

The cost of the whiskey in this drink? About 79¢. The cost of the falernum … um, too much math, but I’m guessing about 40¢. The lemon? FREE! (My favorite price! Free food from your yard, yay!) Enjoy this drink for about $1.19.

It’s nice to serve these in a pretty sour glass, but I could really go for a double-size one of these on the rocks in a go-cup on a parade route. Speaking of which, if you’re sipping one of these and missing Mardi Gras and the parade season leading up to it, you can get the next best thing to being there. Fix yourself a Mardi Gras Sour, order a King Cake from Randazzo’s, put on some great New Orleans music and … um, throw some beads up in the air and catch them. (Extra points if you stomp on your own hand or knock over one of your own children to get them.)

Here’s one of the tropical drinks we had with our dinner at the reopened (and now closed again) Luau in Beverly Hills …

Next up, a Luau Grog, their take on the venerable Navy Grog, which for years was my drink of choice at the late, lamented House of Lee in Pacific Palisades. My favorite local tiki bar after Tiki Ti, I was a regular there for years. Tommy was the bartender who kept me medicated with my large and potent Navy Grogs, and Albert, the world’s most expressionless waiter (whom we loved) kept the rumaki, kung pao shrimp and cheeseburgers coming (they had great burgers, and perfect crinkle-cut Ore-Ida fries, great for soakign up Grogs, Fogcutters and Scorpions). Luau’s Grog took me back … ahh.

The original recipe called for gold Puerto Rican rum, but I use Cruzan Estate Dark, not being a fan of Puerto Rican rum for the most part.

Luau Grog

1 ounce Cruzan Estate Dark rum.
1 ounce dark Jamaican rum.
1 ounce Demerara rum.
3/4 ounce fresh lime juice.
3/4 ounce grapefruit juice.
3/4 ounce soda water.
1 ounce honey mix. *
1 dash of Angostura bitters.
2 ounce crushed ice.

Put everything into a blender saving ice for last. Blend at high speed for no more than 5 seconds. Pour into a double old-fashioned glass. Serve with an ice cone.

* For the honey mix, combine one part honey and one part hot water until honey is thoroughly dissolved. Once cooled & bottled, it will last about a week in the refrigerator.

Dr. Bamboo has the best article on ice cones I’ve ever seen.

Here’s one of the tropical drinks we had with our dinner at the reopened (and now closed again) Luau in Beverly Hills …

This one’s one of my favorite tropical cocktails, and if memory serves me right (“Watakushi no kyoku ga tashika naraba …”), it was created at the original Luau. Marvelously complex flavor, you’ll want to keep some cinnamon syrup on hand just for this drink (although it’s useful for so many more, and tastes great on pancakes to boot).

You can use John D. Taylor’s Velvet Falernum, but you’ll get a much better tropical flavor if you just make your own. As Rick points out, it only takes 10 minutes. (Well, 10 minutes spread out over a 24-hour period, but stilll.)

You can get dynamite cinnamon syrup from Trader Tiki.

Jet Pilot

1 ounce Coruba rum
3/4 ounce Cruzan Dark rum
3/4 ounce Lemon Hart 151 rum
1/2 ounce fresh lime juice
1/2 ounce grapefruit juice
1/2 ounce cinnamon syrup
1/2 ounce Falernum

1 dash Angostura Bitters
6 drops Herbsaint

Shake with 1 cup cracked ice, pour into Double Old Fashioned glass. Add crushed ice to fill. (The new Luau blends theirs.)

We had busy days Tuesday — up early to watch the inauguration (I was at work at 8am, setting it up on the big-ass TV) and home late. We didn’t think ahead to research an Inaugural Cocktail (although there was some awful-looking red, white and blues ones on some web sites) and just drank Old Fashioneds instead. Wes did some digging, adn we did come across Eric Felten’s recent article about an inaugural punch, along the lines of one served at Andrew Jackson’s inauguration, which was apparently quite a do:

“A monstrous crowd of people is in the city,” Daniel Webster wrote on Inauguration Day, 1829. “I never saw any thing like it before. Persons have come five hundred miles to see General Jackson; and they really seem to think that the country is rescued from some dreadful danger.”

After the oath and his address, the old general climbed on his horse and headed for the White House. As one witness told it: “The President was literally pursued by a motley concourse of people, riding, running helter-skelter, striving who should first gain admittance into the executive mansion, where it was understood that refreshments were to be distributed.”

The unruly bunch pushed into the White House, clods standing on the silk-upholstered furniture in muddy boots to get a glimpse of the new president (who was trying not to be crushed by his well-wishers). “The reign of King Mob seemed triumphant,” wrote Supreme Court Justice Joseph Story, appalled. When the stewards finally delivered buckets full of Orange Punch, the crowd lunged for the pails, overturning furniture, smashing the glassware, and — perhaps worst of all — spilling the punch itself. Quick-thinking waiters lugged the remaining barrels of punch out onto the White House lawn, enticing Jackson’s admirers to take the party outside.

John Steele Gordon has a more detailed account:

The crowd grew so dense that there were fears for Jackson’s safety. He soon escaped out a window and returned to his hotel. The crowd was finally lured out of the White House when the liquor was carried out onto the lawn. The place was a total shambles, with many thousands of dollars in damage due to broken glass and china and ruined upholstery and carpets.

Oh my. They should have had more buckets of punch at this inauguration, which might have helped the crowd move along a bit better.

In any case, Felten provides an excellent updated version of the type of orange punch that might well have been served to the teeming masses at the White House that day.

Andrew Jackson’s Inaugural Orange Punch
(Adapted by Eric Felten, with tweaking by me)

3 parts fresh orange juice.
1 part fresh lemon juice.
1 part mulled orange syrup.
1 part dark rum.
1 part Cognac.
2 parts soda water.

Mulled Orange Syrup:
Combine 1 cup sugar with the peel of one orange in a saucepan. Muddle the sugar with the orange peel until the orange oil is released from the peel, and the sugar becomes damp. Add 1 cup water and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Add some mulling spices to taste (a couple of cinnamon sticks, some whole cloves and allspice berries). After 15 minutes, remove from heat and let it sit for several hours. Strain.

Combine ingredients in a punch bowl with a large block of ice or optionally, for historical accuracy, in buckets. Serve in punch cups with a little crushed ice, and give each glass a dash of Angostura bitters or, even better, Jerry Thomas’ Decanter Bitters. Okay, so Andy was inaugurated the year before Professor Jerry was born, but Dr. Siegert’s Angostura bitters weren’t exported until 1830, and it was years before his company was established to make the product on a large enough scale to keep up with the demand. So this is less historical accuracy than 19th Century flavor. Heck, try making up a batch of Boker’s Bitters, or Doc’s recipe based on Boker’s, H & H Aromatic Bitters.

Punch in a bucket, mmmm.

If you’re looking for other cocktail ideas, here’s what else we’ve been drinking this week. Wesly adapted the first one from a more traditional recipe to suit the whiskey used, and spiked it with a little bitters. We use Rittenhouse bonded rye most of the time, but Wes wanted to try this one with the 6-year Sazerac — it has a great flavor but is a little less punchy and forward than the Rittenhouse, so he upped the amount. “Playing to your base spirit,” he says.

Oriental Cocktail variation
(by Wesly)

2 ounces Sazerac 6-year rye whiskey.
3/4 ounce sweet vermouth.
3/4 ounce Cointreau.
1/2 ounce fresh lime juice.
2 dashes Peychaud’s bitters.

Combine ingredients with ice and shake for 12 seconds or so. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Next we tried one from the Savoy Cocktail Book. It calls for Candadian Club, but as we don’t keep that (or any blended Canadian for that matter), we substituted a lighter rye. Basically, it’s a Dry Manhattan spiked with a dash of maraschino and absinthe, which adds subtle tastiness.

Lawhill Cocktail

2 ounces Old Overholt rye whiskey.
1 ounce dry vermouth.
1 dash Angostura bitters.
1 dash maraschino liqueur.
1 dash absinthe.

Combine in mixing glass with ice, stir for 30 seconds and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

I like the old practice of adding one or two dashes of a liqueur to augment a recipe, or turn it into a new drink altogether — it’s really growing on me.

Wesly discovered the other night that Aviation gin makes a really terrific Perfect Martini.

The different botanical profile of this Dutch-style “New Western” gin, which includes cardamom, coriander and anise, along with a rye neutral grain spirit base that lends its own spiciness, grabs onto the spices and botanicals in the vermouths and runs with them to the finish line. When I took my first sip it was almost jarring, and I asked Wesly if he had put a dash or three of some herbal liqueur in it. Nope, just cocktail alchemy.

Use your best vermouths for this, if you’ve got ’em — Carpano for the sweet and Dolin or the newly released original formulation of Noilly Prat for the dry. Even if you use standard vermouths for this, though, it’s really damned good.

The name that popped into my head for this drink (which I think needs something more than just “a Perfect Martini with Aviation Gin”) makes me think of the pilot who safely landed that plane in the Hudson River yesterday and got every single soul off and onto rescue boats. I’ll drink to that.

Perfect Aviator

2-1/2 ounces Aviation Gin.
1/4 ounce sweet vermouth.
1/4 ounce dry vermouth.

Stir with ice for no less than 30 seconds. Strain into a frozen cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist after expressing the oil.

Man oh man. So simple, yet so good.