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]

Charles Edward Stuart, also known as “Bonnie Prince Charlie,” died 219 years ago today. He was an exiled claimant to the thrones of Scotland and England, whom the Jacobite movement tried (and failed) to restore to the throne. My own particular interest in Charlie is that he supposedly created the liqueur consisting of Scots whisky, honey and herbs that we now know as Drambuie, from the Scots Gaelic am dram buidheach, meaning “the drink that satisfies.”

That it does, it’s mighty good stuff. Although I love the flavor I tend to find straight liqueurs to be far too sweet for my taste, and what better to cut the sweetness and retain the flavor but a drink that combines Drambuie with its base, “the devil uisce beatha, guid Scots whisky?!

This drink is often dismissed as something that’s “easy,” and while it is indeed easy to make, you’d do yourself a disservice to ignore it, especially if you make it with a good Scotch base. Lots of people seem to forget about this drink, but they shouldn’t. It’s wonderful.

Rusty Nail

2-1/4 ounces blended Scotch whisky.
3/4 ounce Drambuie.
Lemon twist.

Combine with ice in a rocks glass and stir. Twist the lemon peel over the drink and garnish with the peel.

I like this with a good blended Scotch like The Famous Grouse, but given the near-infinite variations and tastes in Scotch you will, of course, use one to suit your own taste. If you’re really wacky you might even use a smoky, peaty single malt.

Apparently today is also “National Brandy Alexander Day.” (Where do they come up with this stuff?) Unless you wish to celebrate the myriad drag queens who have adopted this as their nom-de-drag, and if you do like sweet, creamy drinks (I don’t) then you might want one of these instead. Combine a jigger of brandy with one ounce each of cream and crème de cacao, shake and strain, then grate a little nutmeg on top. Sip and be faaabulous, dahling.

UPDATE, 2013. Drambuie’s new product, Drambuie 15, is made with much older whiskies as its base, with at least 15 years of age on them, and is drier, more complex and far more sophisticated than its already sophisticated original older brother. This is lovely on its own, but it makes a fairly spectacular Rusty Nail.

Master food scientist and writer Harold McGee writes in the New York Times about trying to clear absinthe’s reputation (which is happening, I believe, despite the U.S. ban on the liquor and a flood of awful stuff from the Czech Republic) and reminds us of one of its many cocktailian applications:

Readers of Ernest Hemingway know Death in the Afternoon as a book about bullfighting. But to drinkers with a taste for obscure booze, it is also a cocktail that Hemingway contributed to a 1935 collection of celebrity recipes. His directions:

“Pour one jigger absinthe into a Champagne glass. Add iced Champagne until it attains the proper opalescent milkiness. Drink three to five of these slowly.”

When I heard about this concoction last week and wondered how Champagne bubbles would fare in the milkiness, I couldnt just go to my local liquor store and buy absinthe. I had to substitute one of the anise-flavored alcohols that took absinthes place when it was banned in France and in the United States about a century ago.

Apparently it didn’t work too well for Harold with regards to the drink regaining its effervescence, but sparked an interesting discussion about how Champagne bubbles work (I’ll bet you didn’t know why it bubbles as it does).

2010 update: Now, of course, absinthe is legal in the U.S. and there are myriad varieties available. Beginners might want to start with Lucid or Kübler, and I’m a big fan of the ones made by Ted Breaux and Jade Liqueurs in France. There are some wonderful American-made absinthes now, especially Marteau from Oregon, Leopold Bros. Absinthe Verte from Colorado and the unusual St. George from Alameda, California.

A Death in the Afternoon is a great way to enjoy any of these fine absinthes.

No, that’s not something dirty.

In fact, I was perusing recent back issues of the San Francisco Chronicle and came across an article about Pimm’s No. 1, the English gin-based “semi-sweet fruity” liqueur. Apparently the Pimm’s Cup cocktail is making a comeback and is popping up on bar menus all over the Bay Area. [UPDATE: I have recently heard the disquieting news that Pimm’s is no longer made with gin, but with grain neutral spirits. Sigh.]

Except for some of us, though … the Pimm’s Cup can’t make a comeback because it’s never been away. It’s the house cocktail at New Orleans’ legendary Napoleon House, the world’s most civilized bar, and has been for decades. N.O. food writer Pableaux Johnson notes the irony in such a beverage being the signature drink of a bar named for (and a building originally bought for) the deposed Emperor of France: “In 1821, then-owner and former New Orleans mayor Nicolas Girod offered the building to Napoleon as a base of New World operations while the ex-emperor was imprisoned on St. Helena. After a storied career fighting British forces for Euro-domination, would the ‘Little Corporal’ approve such an Anglified beverage?” Probably not, but it’d be fun to see the look on his face if he were offered one.

The Pimm’s Cup cocktail is perfect for sweltering summer days (and long nights) in New Orleans, due to its relatively low alcohol content and its nearly endless ability to provide refreshment. Napoleon House uses a fairly simple recipe: a shot of Pimm’s No. 1 Cup, two shots of lemonade, fill with 7UP and add a cucumber slice. I’m not a fan of 7UP, though.

Here’s how Chris McMillian in New Orleans makes it, with a fresh-made lemonade:

Pimm’s Cup
(Chris McMillian’s version)

4 ounces Pimm’s No. 1.
1 ounce fresh lemon juice.
1 ounce simple syrup.
3-4 ounces soda water.
Cucumber slices.
Fresh fruit.

Build in a large wine glass, including the fruit (Chris used blackberries, blueberries, lemon, lime, orange and apple slices), fill with ice and toss back and forth between the wine glass and pint mixing glass to combine. Add soda to top, and stir. Garnish with long, thin cucumber slices. “Welcome to summer in a glass.”

The Chronicle offers a variation that I find intriguing, though …

Pimm’s Cup
(updated)

2 ounces Pimm’s No. 1.
1 ounce gin (Plymouth or Tanqueray, I’d say).
Ginger ale.
Soda water.
Cucumber slice.

Add the gin and Pimm’s to a highball glass full of ice. Fill the remainder of the glass with a 2:1 ratio of ginger ale to soda water. Stir and place the cucumber slice in the drink (rather than as a garnish).

Ginger ale or ginger beer is the way they’re made in England, and I like the idea of cutting it with soda to take out some of the sweetness. I’m gonna try this next time it gets hot. Hell, I might just try it tonight anyway, and just crank up the heater.

Hoy Wong, of New York’s famous Algonquin Hotel, has been behind the stick for a good while now.

Marilyn Monroe came Wednesdays for lunch and ordered a Beefeater martini, very dry. Danny Kaye pulled his jacket over his head to avoid being recognized. Judy Garland sat in a corner drinking Johnnie Walker Red.

“Judy Garland, very sad,” said Hoy Wong, who is about to be feted by his employer of 27 years, the Algonquin Hotel, on the occasion of his 90th birthday. “She always had a cocktail glass in her hand.”

Wong, or Mr. Hoy, as he is known, has been working as a bartender for 58 years. Unless another candidate steps forward, his bosses seem safe in calling him the city’s oldest bartender.

“He never misses a day,” said Bill Liles, the Algonquin’s general manager. “If the weather’s bad he shows up early. It’s just really an honor to work with someone like Mr. Hoy.”

I so, so want to visit Mr. Hoy and have him make me a Martini! OK all youse New Yorkers out there … go pay the man your respects, and please tell him I said happy birthday.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Hoy!

In honor of Mr. Hoy Wong, we present a cocktail named for the venerable hotel where he plies his trade, and the “Round Table” of people like Dorothy Parker, Roberty Benchley and Noel Coward who used to hang out there. Better still, it’s a rye cocktail, and as Wes is fond of saying, what the world needs now is more rye cocktails.

The Algonquin Cocktail

1-1/2 ounces straight rye whiskey.
3/4 ounce pineapple juice.
3/4 ounce dry vermouth.

Combine with ice in a cocktail shaker. Shake vigorously for 10-15 seconds.
Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish optional, your call.