Spiced Pear Mule

What are you doing for Christmas? We usually go home to Louisiana for the holidays, but this year we're going a bit farther - to New Zealand! My brother moved to Auckland a couple of years ago and we're finally going to visit. My first summertime Christmas! I'm so excited. Except for the part where we have to take a 15-hour flight with a 15-month-old. I don't think that part is going to be fun. Air New Zealand serves alcohol, right?

I've got one more holiday cocktail for you before I sign off for Christmas, and it's a really wonderful one: a Spiced Pear Mule made with Barritt's Ginger Beer. Barritt's is a brand from Bermuda that has been around since 1874! It's a super tasty ginger beer that is perfect for mules. I'm sure you're familiar with the Moscow Mule, but did you know that the mule is a whole category of drinks? A mule, also called a buck, is made of liquor, citrus juice, and ginger beer. There's no need to stick to vodka. It's delicious with bourbon, gin, or - possibly my new personal favorite - Cognac.

Cognac (or brandy) pairs really well with ginger so it's a natural choice with ginger beer. It also goes wonderfully with pear. So I couldn't help but reach again for St. George Spiced Pear Liqueur to make this delicious mule more festive. If you don't have a bottle of the liqueur, you can still make this cocktail with 1 ounce of pear juice or pear brandy. Try making or buying some spiced Demerara syrup and you won't be missing out at all!

Spiced Pear Mule

1 1/2 oz. Cognac or brandy
1 oz. St. George Spiced Pear Liqueur
3/4 oz. lime juice
1/2 oz. Demerara simple syrup
Barritt's Ginger Beer, to top

Combine Cognac, pear liqueur, lime juice, and syrup in a shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a copper mug filled with ice. Top with ginger beer. Garnish with pear slices and a cinnamon stick and enjoy!

This post was sponsored by Barritt's Ginger Beer. All opinions are my own.

Mulled Wine

It's officially the holidays! Today I'm boarding a flight to go home to New Orleans with my dog and baby in tow. I'll be there for two weeks to celebrate Christmas and have a christening for Luke. I'm really excited. I look forward to the holidays all year. And it will be even more special now that we've got a little family of our own.

Of course the holidays wouldn't be complete without some festive cocktails. At my parents' house, it's not Christmas until my dad makes his famous eggnog - maybe one day I'll get permission to share the top-secret recipe. I don't have any Christmas cocktail traditions yet myself, but I'm thinking that this mulled wine might become one of them. Particularly since Decembers in Boston call for much warmer cocktails than those in Louisiana.

Until I made it myself, I had only had mulled wine a few times, usually at holiday parties. The one memorable exception was a cold and rainy afternoon in Krakow, Poland last May. We attended my husband's cousin's wedding and then spent some time in the city. I'm not sure what it's usually like in May, but last year it was extremely cold and damp, and we had not packed properly for it. After getting thoroughly wet and chilled, we ducked into a random pub to warm up. They had mulled wine on the menu and we immediately ordered two mugs. I don't think I've ever had anything more perfect. The most memorable drinking experiences are always more about the circumstances than the recipe.

So, when we got our first snowfall this year, I decided to try my hand at making mulled wine. The baby gave me a wonderful excuse to get out of shoveling (suddenly those nine months of pregnancy seem totally worth it), but the least I could do was have a warm, spiritous beverage ready when my husband came in from the cold. And just like that dreary day in Krakow, it was absolutely perfect. This stuff positively warms the soul. I think I have my new Christmas tradition.

Mulled Wine

1 bottle (750 ml) red wine
1/4 cup sugar
1 orange, sliced
10 cloves
2 cinnamon sticks
2 star anise
1/4 cup brandy

Combine all ingredients except for brandy in a saucepan and simmer for 30 minutes. Remove from heat and add brandy. Serve hot, garnished with cranberries, a cinnamon stick, and star anise.

This recipe is easily halved if you don't want to sacrifice a whole bottle to the cause or if, like me, you're only making it for two people.

Happy holidays!

Gold Leader

Since I'm not making cocktails during my pregnancy, I've invited some fellow bloggers and cocktail enthusiasts to write guest posts and share their recipes. Today's guest blogger is Adam of Mr. Muddle!

Greetings Garnish Nation (Garnishites? Garnisheers?)! Katie has asked me to play guest blogger this week, and I couldn’t be happier to oblige.  Us Boston cocktail bloggers gotta stick together. Anyway, some of you may know that yesterday was a “holiday” of sorts for fans of a certain movie empire.  In these circles, May 4th is known as Star Wars Day (say “May the Fourth...” Get it?). So it seemed like a good time to put a new spin on one of my older Star Wars related drinks.

Just over a year ago I came up with a drink using bourbon, Aperol, Benedictine and lemon juice called Good Shot Red Two. The name comes from a throwaway line in Episode VI by Wedge Antilles during the Battle of Endor (you’ll see where I came up with the name for this new drink in that clip too). It’s a line that has stuck with me for many years, and works well as a cocktail name.

For this new spin, I decided to take the basic components of the drink (brown spirit, bitter liqueur, sweet liqueur, juice), but push the flavors a bit more. I really liked the interplay of sweet Benedictine and bitter Aperol in the original, so I thought about other ways to highlight this yin/yang flavor combo. My amari collection has grown a bit this year, and recently I got some Suze* to add to the arsenal. The bright herbaceousness matches the intense yellow color of this French liqueur. More floral than its Italian cousins, it seemed like a good counterpoint to the warm spices of Benedictine. As for the base spirit, I decided to use Cognac in place of bourbon, hoping to get a little more punch there as well.

*Fun Fact - After a successful bottle swap a few months ago, Katie and I decided to run it back again with different bottles and she chose Suze (I’ll keep the other half a secret for now). Then she made her big announcement and we had to put Round 2 of the bottle swap posts on hold. But it's too good to let it collect dust for 9 months.

The Gold Leader is a whirlwind of herbs and spices on the nose from the two liqueurs. Each whiff alternates between the bracing freshness of the Suze and the subtle warmth of the Benedictine. The sip starts with a round tartness as the lemon tries to peek through. The Cognac keeps things just soft enough, with the grape and burnt sugar notes popping through, while tannins in the background give it some bite. Wonderful warm low notes from the Benedictine and Cognac keep the Suze from taking over, but its unmistakeable botanicals are ever present.

Since this was a riff on a Star Wars themed cocktail, the name should stay true to that formula. Plus, I wanted to give a nod to the brilliant yellow gold color of Suze. Gold Leader is Lando Calrissian's call sign in the battle, and it certainly checks all those boxes. The Gold Leader is a perfect wingman to Good Shot Red Two, providing another take on a template worthy of more exploration.  

Thanks again to Katie for letting me take over her corner of cyberspace for a bit. Cheers!

Gold Leader

1 1/2 oz. Cognac (Hine VSOP)

1/2 oz. Suze

1/2 oz. Benedictine

1/2 oz. lemon juice

Shake ingredients with ice and strain into a chilled coupe glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Bottle Buy: Crème de Cacao

I don't make a lot of desserty cocktails, so a bottle of crème de cacao was never that high on my list of things to buy. Don't get me wrong - I love chocolate. Love it. And I wouldn't say no to a chocolate martini if you handed me one. But it's not really something I'd like to make on a regular basis. So of all the spirits I'd like to buy, I didn't think crème de cacao had much of a place in my bar.

There was a particular cocktail that changed my mind. My husband and I were checking out the tiki bar at Tiger Mama, a funky southeast-Asian inspired restaurant in the Fenway area that opened up a few months ago. While I opted for something appropriately Tiki-themed and served in a coconut, the hubby went straight for a drink called the Flushing - Main Street. The ingredients were so bizarre it seemed they might work: Akashi White Oak Japanese whiskey, dry vermouth, Green Chartreuse, and crème de cacao. We loved it. I'll post the recipe soon so you can try it yourself and see if you agree.

I asked the bartender about the unusual inclusion of crème de cacao in the recipe, and he told me they use the one from Tempus Fugit. This was the first time I'd heard of Tempus Fugit, but it wasn't the last - their Gran Classico and Kina L'Aero d'Or seem to be making their way into drinks at every bar in Boston. All of their labels are gorgeously vintage-styled, and their spirits are excellent. The bartender at Tiger Mama assured me that no other crème de cacao would do. "It's the best," he said. I went on the hunt for it and found it at Liquor Land on Mass Ave. When I asked one of the employees if they had it, he pointed it out to me and added, "It's the best." Okay, then.

If you're like me, when you hear "crème de cacao" you think of a sugary, cheap, Dekuyper-esque liqueur. And that's probably not far off for a lot of brands on the market. John Troia, co-founder of Tempus Fugit Spirits, says the decline of crème de cacao from an elegant liqueur to a sickly sweet bottom-shelf mixer had to do with the rise of the cocktail. When the liqueur was no longer being consumed by itself, it was easier to skimp on quality and make more sugary products with artificial flavoring. But like many classic ingredients, crème de cacao is making a comeback.



Crème de cacao was invented by monks in France in the 16th century. Chocolate was still a pretty new import to Europe at the time, but it never seems to take long for people to figure out how to make booze out of something. It's is not a cream liqueur; it gets its name from its thick, creamy texture. It's made by distilling cacao, otherwise known as cocoa beans. If you're not familiar with where your Hershey's chocolate bar comes from, let me briefly enlighten you: chocolate comes from the seeds of the cacao tree, Theobroma cacao, which is native to Central and South America. Its fruits are oval-shaped pods that turn yellow or red when ripe. Inside, there's a sweet white flesh (that actually tastes pretty good on its own, though nothing like chocolate) surrounding the real treasure: the cacao beans. These are fermented, dried, roasted, and cracked open to remove their shells. What's left are what we call cocoa nibs, which are ground up into a paste and mixed with sugar and milk to make chocolate.

If you're making booze instead, you don't have to go through quite that much trouble. Though I'm having a little difficulty finding out the details of the process, it appears that real crème de cacao is made by distilling the raw cocoa beans. The distillate is then macerated with more crushed cacao and vanilla beans. I'm sure sugar is added as well. You may notice that there are "white" and "brown" varieties out there. In the cheaper brands, the brown usually comes from artificial coloring. I guess the goal is to make it look more like the real thing: the brown color of Tempus Fugit's crème de cacao is natural.

The inside of a cacao pod, with the white flesh surrounding the beans.

Tempus Fugit's crème de cacao smells intensely chocolatey, like cocoa powder or a chocolate bar. When you sip it, the first thing you notice is the texture. You understand the "crème" in the name immediately - this stuff is thick and velvety in a completely unexpected way. The flavor is beautiful and rich. Obviously the main taste is chocolate, but there are also strong notes of vanilla and caramel.

I don't normally endorse a single brand, but as far as I know, Tempus Fugit makes the only real quality crème de cacao out there at the moment. You could reach for something cheaper if you want to try it out before you take the plunge, but you'd already be more than halfway to a bottle of really great stuff. If you're not ready to shell out $30 on chocolate liqueur, you could do what a lot of craft cocktail bars are doing and make your own from vodka, cacao nibs, sugar, and vanilla.

Tempus Fugit Crème de Cacao

Price: $30
Alcohol Content: 24%
Popular Cocktails: Brandy Alexander, Grasshopper, Chocolate Martini, 20th Century

Though I've already made a number of other, less sweet cocktails with my bottle of crème de cacao (the Flushing - Main Street was the first one), I thought I should use the classic Brandy Alexander to showcase this spirit. Rich, sweet, slightly chocolatey, and extremely elegant, the Brandy Alexander is an adult's version of the sickly-sweet drinks crème de cacao usually makes its way into. It's the kind of dessert drink I actually could have every night.

There are a few different recipes out there, but I decided I liked using equal parts brandy, crème de cacao, and cream the best. If you don't have cream or half and half (or you want to make a slightly less caloric drink), you can substitute milk. It will be a much lighter, more watery cocktail, but I still like it just fine.

History: The Brandy Alexander is a version of the Alexander, which was originally made with gin, crème de cacao, and cream. It was (probably) invented by Troy Alexander at Rector’s in New York in honor of (somewhat bizarrely) a cartoon woman named Phoebe Snow who was used to advertise clean-burning coal for railroads. Phoebe wore all white, emphasizing just how clean the coal was. For the dinner in her honor, Alexander wanted to make a white cocktail to match. Somewhat incongruously, he named it after himself. This gin Alexander appears in Hugo Ensslin’s 1915 Recipes for Mixed Drinks.

An advertisement featuring Phoebe Snow in her white dress.

As for when the gin became popularly replaced by brandy, no one was is really sure. It may have something to do with the royal wedding of Princess Mary. Mary was the daughter of George V and the sister of two kings, Edward VIII, who abdicated, and George VI, who is famously portrayed by Colin Firth in The King’s Speech. In 1922, she married Viscount Henry Lascelles, and the Brandy Alexander was supposedly created in their honor.

Brandy Alexander

1 oz. brandy or Cognac
1 oz. crème de cacao
1 oz. cream, half and half, or milk

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice and shake until chilled and frothy. Strain into a cocktail glass and garnish with grated nutmeg.

Brandy Milk Punch

Last Christmas, one of my gifts was a signed copy of Magic in a Shaker by Marvin Allen. It's a great book of cocktail techniques and recipes filled with New Orleans inspiration. It's organized by month, with a different cocktail theme for each. December is, of course, holiday cocktails, and one of them is this Brandy Milk Punch. This boozy, milky confection is a New Orleans classic that's perfect for this time of year.

Brandy Milk Punch is traditionally served with brunch. It became famous at the iconic Brennan's restaurant in New Orleans. But it's also become associated with the holidays. It would be a great, unique cocktail to serve at a Christmas party. It's sweet but not cloyingly so. The flavors bring eggnog to mind, but this is a much lighter beverage, and less involved to make. Half and half, simple syrup, and vanilla are combined in a shaker with brandy (bourbon is delicious as well), strained into a rocks glass, and dusted with nutmeg. Easy and festive.

History: Though Brandy Milk Punch has become inextricably linked with the city of New Orleans, it wasn't invented there. It's a very old cocktail, old enough that Benjamin Franklin had his own recipe. Jerry Thomas's 1862 Bartender's Guide contains multiple versions. As for when and where it originated, variations on the theme of milk and booze go way back, far enough that we probably can't say for certain. In the middle ages in Britain, there was a warm drink called posset made of curdled milk and wine or ale. The Irish drank scáiltín contained hot milk with whiskey and spices. There was probably a slow evolution from these recipes towards the milk punch we drink today, culminating in the masterpiece enjoyed alongside bananas foster at Brennan's.

Benjamin Franklin's Milk Punch recipe from 1763. Image courtesy of the Massachusetts Historical Society.

Some of the older milk punch recipes, like Franklin's above, involve using lemons to curdle the milk and then straining the mixture to produce a clearish cocktail. In an age without refrigeration, this technique helped the drink keep longer. It's currently experiencing a revival, and I've had milk punch made this way at a couple of bars in Boston. It's a very different experience than having a glass of the creamy kind, and definitely something worth trying.

Brandy Milk Punch

1 1/4 oz. brandy
2 oz. half-and-half
1/2 oz. simple syrup (or to taste)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
ground nutmeg, to garnish

Combine all ingredients except nutmeg in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled. Strain into a rocks glass filled with ice and sprinkle nutmeg on top.

Recipe from Magic in a Shaker.

Vanilla Punch

I'm back from vacation! We did a beautiful tour around southern Utah and northern Arizona, visiting all the national parks in the area: Zion, Bryce, Canyonlands, Arches, Capitol Reef, the Grand Canyon, and lots of things in between. We've always been snobs when it comes to travel, opting for international destinations over anything in the US, but this was a humbling reminder that America is a big and stunningly beautiful country.

My reading material for the trip was Imbibe! by David Wondrich, which tells the story of the "father of American mixology" Jerry Thomas and his cocktail recipes. I know, I know, even I can't believe I hadn't read it yet. I blame that pesky dissertation. Since a lot of the book is dedicated to technique and recipes, it should properly be read at home with a full bar and plenty of time, but it's not bad when you're watching the sun set over the desert, either.

Of the first few recipes, this one caught my eye in particular. It's very simple, but extremely tasty. Nothing I can write here could possibly rival Wondrich's humorous and informative prose, but I'll tell you a few things and urge you to pick up the book yourself if you haven't already.

From the mid-17th to mid-19th centuries, punches were some of the most popular cocktails, so much so that Wondrich has devoted his second book to them entirely. They consisted of spirits, lemon, sugar, and spices and were generally shared out of a large bowl. By Jerry Thomas' day, the bowl was old-fashioned and it was more popular to make individual servings of punch to order. This Vanilla Punch is one example. It's basically a brandy sour.

In the late 19th century, ice came in large blocks from which cubes or shavings had to be cut. This recipe calls for shaved ice (crushed will do fine). It is shaken in a Boston shaker and then served in the tumbler in which it was shaken, with a straw. Straws were a good deal more popular back then, given that most folks had bad teeth that would have made it painful to sip directly from a cold drink.

Though it's a simple recipe, I enjoyed this lovely, vanilla-scented sour. The Cognac gives it a sophisticated edge that is only intensified by its venerable age and illustrious pedigree. I wonder how similar the cocktail I made actually tastes to one that Jerry Thomas might have served. I like to imagine that it's similar. In that way, all of these classic recipes are an incredible link to the past.

History: The recipe appears in Thomas' 1862 How to Mix Drinks.

Vanilla Punch

2 oz. brandy (I used Pierre Ferrand Cognac)
Juice of 1/4 lemon (roughly 1/2 oz. for me)
2 tsp. sugar (I used simple syrup)
A few drops of vanilla extract

Combine brandy, lemon juice, and sugar in a Boston shaker. Add crushed or shaved ice. Shake until well chilled. Pour into tumbler half of shaker and add vanilla on top. Serve with a slice of lemon and a straw.

Brandy Crusta

This is another recipe from Vintage Cocktails that just looked so good based on the photo and ingredients that I had to make it. It's only the second Cognac cocktail I've tried, the first being the Sidecar. I really liked that one, and the Brandy Crusta is actually its close ancestor. While the Sidecar has a simple three ingredients (brandy, Cointreau, lemon juice), the Brandy Crusta gets a bit more complex, with orange curacao, maraschino liqueur, and bitters, plus an incredibly elaborate garnish. And it's a really excellent cocktail. It's more sour than sweet on its own, but with the sugared rim it's perfect - probably one of the few times I've seen a sugared rim actually used to good effect in a cocktail. Oh, and it is strong. A couple of these and you'll be done for the night.

So what's the deal with that garnish? The Brandy Crusta is famously garnished with nearly an entire lemon peel lining the glass or sitting just inside the rim. I couldn't resist attempting to replicate the perfectly coiled peel from the picture in the book, but it was quite an enterprise. It kept falling into the cocktail. I ended up getting out a pair of tweezers to try and pull it properly into place. In the end there was a big gap between the peel and the liquid, but it will just have to do. I think as long as you get a nice big lemon peel in there, you'll get the right taste; as for the look, I'm afraid I've got very little advice.

History: The Brandy Crusta was invented in New Orleans in 1852 by bartender Joseph Santini. Some accounts say he invented it at the Jewel of the South bar, and others say the City Exchange, a large restaurant, bar, hotel, and auction house (not to be confused with the Merchant's Exchange that featured so prominently in the history of the Sazerac, though they were similar establishments). Santini worked at both; the Jewel was a smaller establishment that he owned, but he was put in charge of the bar at the ritzy City Exchange as well. Some accounts put the Exchange on Gravier Street, but this is incorrect; the City Exchange took up the entire square block between Royal, Chartes, Toulouse, and St. Louis Streets. Already in disrepair, it was mostly destroyed by the 1915 hurricane. Today the Omni Royal Orleans sits on the site. There is less information on the Jewel of the South, but I assume this is the bar that was on Gravier.

Jerry Thomas spent some time in New Orleans in the 1850's and must have come across Santini and his signature cocktail. He included the Brandy Crusta in his 1862 Bon Vivant's Companion and popularized it to a wider audience. The maraschino liqueur is a newer addition to the drink and is not in Thomas' recipe, but it's a nice touch.

Brandy Crusta

1 1/2 oz. Cognac
1/4 oz. Orange Curacao
1/4 oz. Maraschino liqueur
1/4 oz. lemon juice
1 dash Angostura bitters

Combine all ingredients in a shaker. Add ice and shake until chilled. Rub a slice of lemon around the exterior of a cocktail glass and coat with sugar. Strain cocktail into glass and garnish with one long, curling lemon peel.

Recipe from Vintage Cocktails.

Sidecar

Let me preface this by saying that I don't know a thing about Cognac. I only recently learned that it is essentially the same thing as brandy, the same way champagne is the same thing as sparkling wine; Cognac is brandy that is made in Cognac, France. So the two are essentially interchangeable in cocktail recipes. Before I found this out, I knew I needed some Cognac to make a Sidecar, but I must have gone to the wrong liquor store; they only had a few bottles, and my eyes bulged at the prices. I ended up buying an itty bitty bottle of Hennessey just to try in a few cocktails. Once I found out that brandy could be substituted, I did what any good grad student would do and went to Trader Joe's and bought a bottle of the second-cheapest brandy they had.

Since it's our first time using brandy, we should talk about what exactly it is. I once had a friend at a party drunkenly insist that brandy was just "burnt wine," a notion that I scoffed at, but he wasn't entirely off base. Brandy is distilled wine, usually aged in oak casks. It is popularly served by itself as an after-dinner drink. Cognac, as I said above, is brandy made in the Cognac region of France. A similar type you may have come across is Armagnac, from (can you guess?) the Armagnac region of France.

If you buy brandy or Cognac, you may notice some letters on the label. Brandy is traditionally graded on a standard system to say how long it has been aged (though by law, only Cognac and Armagnac have to abide by these rules):

V.S. (Very Special): the youngest brandy in the blend was aged for at least two years.

V.S.O.P. (Very Superior Old Pale): the youngest brandy in the blend was aged for at least four years.

X.O. (Extra Old) or Napoleon: the youngest brandy in the blend was aged for at least six years.

My very fine Trader Joe's brandy is Pierre Duchene V.S.O.P. Tasting it next to the V.S. Hennessy, there was a clear winner. The Hennessy is smoother and a little sweeter, while I honestly thought the brandy had a faintly unpleasant, musty taste in comparison. In cocktails, the difference is far more subtle, but not long after this experiment I finally splurged on a bottle of Pierre Ferrand Cognac. A Sidecar will be the very first drink I make with it.

The Sidecar is a really nice cocktail. It's classic, classy, and oh-so-drinkable. I'd dare you to find me someone who doesn't like it. Yet it was never on my cocktail radar before. Like the Gimlet, I thought of the Sidecar as a recipe from a bygone day. Which is interesting, given that they've been the two most pleasant surprises I've come across so far. They're also both made from very simple ingredients, so it would be a safe bet to order them at any bar. And I intend to.

History: Here's another drink with a few different possible origins. Let's get the "but we thought of it first" out of the way: the Sidecar is very similar to both the Brandy Crusta and the Brandy Daisy, and could have evolved from either one. But while these are both American cocktails, most accounts suggest that the Sidecar originated on the other side of the pond around World War I. The Ritz Hotel in Paris claims credit for its invention, but there's not much of a story to go along with their claim. Harry MacElhone of Harry's New York Bar in Paris was the first to publish a recipe. In his 1922 book Harry's ABC of Mixing Cocktails, MacElhone credits a London bartender named Pat MacGarry with the drink, but omits this is in later additions. The more popular tale is that an American army captain came to Harry's and developed the drink, named for the fact that he rode to and from the bar in a motorcycle sidecar.

There is a division of opinion when it comes to the exact proportions of ingredients in a Sidecar. The "French school" argues for equal parts Cognac, Cointreau, and lemon juice, while the "English school" likes 2:1:1. I followed The PDT Cocktail Book, which takes the Sidecar even farther from the French version with less than one part Cointreau and lemon juice.

Sidecar

2 oz. Cognac
3/4 oz. Cointreau or triple sec
3/4 oz. lemon juice
1/4 oz. simple syrup

Combine all ingredients in a shaker. Add ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a coupe glass with a half-sugared rim.

Recipe from The PDT Cocktail Book.