Mexican Hot Chocolate with Mezcal Whipped Cream

Usually I really enjoy summers in Boston. Sure, it can get pretty hot, but it rarely comes even close to rivaling the Louisiana temperatures of my childhood. Plus we have to make up for all those frigid months of winter. Summer is when I plant herbs on my balcony and vegetables in my backyard garden. It's when my husband and I sit outdoors and sip cocktails and watch the sunset. It's when most of the fun events occur around town. It's a great time of year.

This summer, however, I'm just not having it. Being pregnant kind of negates a lot of that summer fun. Admittedly I've had very few unpleasant symptoms these last few months, but I'm just so tired all the time - thus the lack of any blog posts the last couple of weeks. And the heat seems to make it worse. Instead of working out in my garden or sitting on the balcony, I'd much rather be curled up inside under a blanket. And on some evenings, when I'm feeling particularly achy and exhausted, I pretend it's already fall, take a warm bath (not hot - add that to the list of things I'm looking forward to in October), and curl up on the couch with some tea, warm milk, or hot chocolate. With the AC blasting, of course.

That, I hope, sufficiently explains this hot chocolate recipe in the middle of August. Although I would argue that there's never a bad time for hot chocolate. It's a delicious, comforting, all-purpose beverage. Don't argue with a pregnant woman.

At first, this was going to be a non-alcoholic Mexican hot chocolate, made with cinnamon and chili powder. But then the idea of mezcal whipped cream popped into my head, and I decided it was genius, because one little dash of mezcal is a-ok for baby but adds a surprisingly intense, smoky agave flavor to a batch of whipped cream. And then it occurred to me to add Ancho Reyes to the hot chocolate, and it was really a lost cause at that point. A simple suggestion wouldn't do - I had to at least hash out the proper proportions so that I could guide you all to spicy, chocolatey perfection. You can make this recipe with or without it, but whether you go non-alcoholic or full-on boozy, this hot chocolate is so good I promise you'll enjoy it - even in August.

Mexican Hot Chocolate

1/2 cup chocolate chips
3/4 cup milk
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 oz. Ancho Reyes or 1/8 tsp. cayenne
1/2 tsp. vanilla

Combine chocolate chips, cinnamon, and cayenne (if using) in a small saucepan. Add milk and put on stove over medium heat, whisking constantly, until chocolate chips are melted, spices are incorporated, and milk is warm. Do not allow the mixture to boil. Remove from heat and stir in Ancho Reyes (if using) and vanilla. Serve in a mug topped with Mezcal Whipped Cream, a pinch of cayenne, and a cinnamon stick.

Mezcal Whipped Cream

1 cup heavy cream
2 tbsp. sugar
1 tbsp. mezcal (optional)
1/2 tbsp. vanilla

In a large bowl, whip cream with the whisk attachment of a mixer until it begins to thicken. add sugar, vanilla, and mezcal (if using). Continue to whip the cream until it reaches the desired consistency, with firm peaks that hold their shape.

Naked & Famous

Equal parts cocktails can be a lot of fun. They're incredibly easy to make and remember - all you need to know is the ingredients, and you're good to go. Some of the most iconic cocktails are made in equal parts: the Negroni, the Brandy Alexander, the Corpse Reviver #2... the list goes on. Equal parts cocktails are having a bit of a moment thanks to Kara Newman's recent book Shake. Stir. Sip., a compendium of cocktails made in equal parts from the classics to newer recipes.

It's tricky to find ingredients that harmonize together in equal parts, especially when you get up to four or five in a drink. And yet when it works, it's magic. Some of my all-time favorite cocktails are equal-parts drinks, like the Last Word and the Paper Plane. So I was bound to love the Naked & Famous, a mashup of the two made deliciously smoky with the addition of mezcal. This is a recipe for the all-time favorites list. If you haven't tried it, you definitely should. Smoky and citrusy, it's deliciously complex and perfectly balanced. It's amazing what equal parts can do.

History: The Naked & Famous was created by Joaquín Simó at Death & Company in New York in 2011. In the book he writes: This cocktail is the bastard child born out of an illicit Oaxacan love affair between the classic Last Word and the Paper Plane. Aptly put.

Naked & Famous

3/4 oz. mezcal
3/4 oz. Yellow Chartreuse
3/4 oz. Aperol
3/4 oz. lime juice

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a coupe glass. No garnish.

Recipe from Death & Co: Modern Classic Cocktails.

Bottle Swap: Ancho Reyes

It's week 2 of my bottle swap with Mr. Muddle! If you missed it, check out last week's cocktails made with The King's Ginger. This week we're working with the bottle that was at the top of my wish list, Ancho Reyes. Before you read on, be sure to check out Mr. Muddle's cocktail, The Pope of Chili Town!

Ancho Reyes is a liqueur is flavored with ancho chiles, which are dried and smoked poblano peppers. A neutral sugar cane spirit is steeped with the peppers for six months, then aged. According to the makers of Ancho Reyes, it's based on a recipe from 1927. Back then, cantinas in the town of Puebla, Mexico each served their own menjurjes, spirits made with local ingredients. The Reyes family created one with the local dried poblanos that was the inspiration for Ancho Reyes. But though the recipe is old, the spirit itself is quite new; it was created in 2014.

For a great virtual tour of the distillery and the process of making Ancho Reyes from field to bottle, check out Alcademics.

Ancho Reyes

Price: $40
Alcohol Content: 40%
Popular Cocktails: Ancho Margarita, Ancho Old Fashioned... basically add it to any tequila cocktail!

I knew Ancho Reyes would be great for adding a bit of spice to cocktails, but what I didn't expect was its complexity and drinkability. When you first sip it, you get the richness and sweetness of the aging process. Then the spice of the ancho chiles hits you, lingering on your palate. As cocktail ingredients go, it's pretty killer. It's an instant, spicy facelift to anything you add it to. The first thing I made with it was a Margarita, subbing it in for triple sec, and I couldn't believe how great it was. I'm not sure I want to make them without it anymore.

Since the thing that surprised me about Ancho Reyes were those flavors up front, and since they seemed kind of perfect for autumn, I decided to play up the spices and sweetness. I originally wanted to make a bourbon cocktail, but I have to say, the Ancho Reyes just sings with tequila. Tequila anejo aged in bourbon barrels gave me those same smooth vanilla and caramel notes while blending perfectly with the Ancho. I added mezcal for smoke and Besamim by Sukkah Hill Spirits for some autumn spices. (I'm guessing you could sub Allspice Dram but I'm not sure - I don't have a bottle yet. Bottle swap, anyone??) Punt e Mes helped bind it all together.

I think this is a pretty great cocktail. At first you get the sweetness of the Punt e Mes, the Besamim, and flavors of cloves, vanilla, and cinnamon. It drinks like a bourbon cocktail for a split second. Then the mezcal and Ancho Reyes hit you, and you get the smoke and spice at the end of your sip. I can't imagine anything more perfect for a chilly fall day. One of these will warm you right up.

Bonfire

1 1/2 oz. tequila anejo (I used Espolon)
1/2 oz. Ancho Reyes
1/2 oz. Punt e Mes
1/4 oz. mezcal
1/4 oz. Besamim or Allspice Dram

Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass with ice and stir until chilled. Strain into an Old Fashioned glass with one large ice cube. Garnish with a burnt cinnamon stick.

Last of the Oaxacans

I love a good mezcal twist on a popular cocktail. The smoky agave spirit can bring out a whole new dimension in existing recipes. So when I saw this Last Word variation with mezcal and serrano pepper, I knew I had to try it. The Last Word is one of my all-time favorite cocktails. The recipe is incredibly easy to remember, too: equal parts gin, Green Chartreuse, Luxardo maraschino liqueur, and lime juice. Swap out the gin and shake in a small slice of pepper, and you get the same delicious sour-sweet-herbal flavor of a Last Word with some extra smoke and spice. Ditch the margaritas next time you have Mexican and make one of these. It's an excellent cocktail.

History: This is another great one from Nick Caruana, who writes The Straight Up. You may remember him from the Basil Cranberry Julep and the Dillionaire. The name is a play on the Last Word; Oaxaca is the Mexican province where most mezcal is made.

Last of the Oaxacans

3/4 oz. mezcal
3/4 oz. Luxardo maraschino liqueur
3/4 oz. Green Chartreuse
3/4 oz. lime juice
1 half-centimeter slice serrano pepper

Combine all ingredients, including the pepper slice, in a shaker. Add ice and shake until chilled. Double-strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a slice of serrano pepper.

Recipe from Serious Eats.

Slow Fade

It's been way too long since I posted a mezcal cocktail. I really like mezcal in a cocktail, whether it's the base or just there to provide a hint of smoke. When I first discovered how much I liked it, mezcal cocktails became my go-to at any bar. Maybe I overdid it, because it's been a while since I ordered or made one. But I will happily break this trend with the Slow Fade.

This cocktail makes brilliant use of smoky mezcal, pairing it with bitter Campari, blanc vermouth, and just a hint of elderflower liqueur for sweetness. A grapefruit twist gives it a beautiful hint of citrus. Honestly, while I tend to avoid grapefruit juice in cocktails - I just don't like the flavor - a grapefruit twist can have a serious impact on a drink. Interestingly, two of the other three cocktails I've made that use one (the Earthbound and the Division Bell) are tequila- and mezcal-based respectively, and include Aperol, Campari's close cousin. I guess the flavors just work together. This cocktail is more spirit-forward and less citrusy than either of those, but they definitely form a nice little trio.

A note on the vermouth in this recipe. It calls for blanc vermouth, which is different from dry vermouth. It's lighter, sweeter, and less herbal. And I don't have a bottle. Dry vermouth is a fair substitute, but it is going to change the flavor of the final product. But - I can confidently report based on how quickly I'm working my way through this cocktail - it's still really, really good with dry.

One day I'll own every bottle I could possibly want, but until then, we must soldier on.

History: The Slow Fade was created by Henry Prendergast and Robby Haynes at Analogue in Chicago.

Slow Fade

1 oz. mezcal
1 oz. blanc vermouth
1 oz. Campari
1/8 oz. St. Germain (3/4 tsp.)
1 dash Angostura bitters

Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass. Stir with ice until chilled. Strain into a rocks glass over one large ice cube. Garnish with a grapefruit twist.

Recipe from Imbibe.

Beer and a Smoke

I don't own very many cocktail recipe books. There are several that I'd really like to buy, but I've already got so many recipes I want to make from the ones I have. The PDT Cocktail Book alone would take years to get through. It's such a great combination of good, solid recipes for classics and interesting new things.

If you're not familiar with PDT, it's a speakeasy-style cocktail bar in New York's East Village. The name stands for "please don't tell," but unfortunately many people have, and on my recent trip to New York I couldn't even get in. I did at least get to see the entrance, which is famously hidden inside a phone booth, inside a hot dog restaurant. Next time I'm in the city, I'll make reservations.

Had I gotten a seat at PDT and only had the opportunity to have a couple of cocktails, I doubt the Beer and a Smoke would have been one of my choices. But I was more than happy to try and make it at home, mostly out of curiosity. It's a variation on a well-known Mexican cocktail called a Michelada, made from beer, lime juice, hot sauce, and spices. The main difference is that it uses mezcal, the "smoke" in the name. Its flavor is decidedly unusual. It's spicy and tart and savory. The first sip honestly made me cringe a little and wonder what I had been thinking, but it kept growing on me. The lime hits you first, a surprisingly sour beginning to your sip. Then you taste the salted rim and the Cholula. The spice and smoke linger. It reminds me a bit of a Bloody Mary even though they don't have that much in common, probably because it feels a bit like you're drinking a meal.

The Michelada is supposedly a decent hangover cure; I wouldn't be surprised if this worked, too. Maybe if I finally get to PDT, I'll make one the next morning.

History: This cocktail was invented in 2009 by Jim Meehan at PDT in New York.

Beer and a Smoke

1 oz. mezcal
3/4 oz. lime juice
1 dash celery bitters
4 dashes Cholula hot sauce
6 oz. Pilsner (they recommend Victory, I used Lagunitas)

Rub the edge of a Collins glass with a wedge of lime and rim the glass with a mixture of salt, black pepper, and celery salt. Stir mezcal, lime juice, bitters, and hot sauce with ice. Strain into the prepared glass. Top with the beer. Garnish with freshly-grated lime and orange zest.

Recipe from The PDT Cocktail Book.

Basil Cranberry Julep

The Mint Julep may be a classic, but it isn't really a cocktail I crave very often. It's just so very sweet, without much to balance it out. I used to think I'd only ever want one during the Kentucky Derby; I've been forced to amend that statement after a visit to Houmas House Plantation outside of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, where we sipped Mint Juleps while touring the beautiful gardens at sunset. A Mint Julep can be perfect in the right setting.

Despite my Mint Julep misgivings, I like the idea of trying some variations on the simple mint-sugar-bourbon mixture, and this one from Nick Caruana of The Straight Up looked like a perfect candidate. It swaps out the mint for basil, the bourbon for mezcal, and the plain simple syrup for a cranberry syrup, which I already had made up for my Autumn Cranberry Old Fashioned.

Like a traditional Mint Julep, this cocktail dances dangerously close to being too sweet. The mezcal really helps provide some balance in this respect, as does the slight tartness of the cranberry syrup. It's still not my favorite, but I'm really glad I made it. One of the most remarkable things about it is how very much like a julep it tastes, even with its unique ingredients. I could definitely find a situation or two in which this would be the perfect cocktail to sip. Nick points out that Derby Day and Cinco de Mayo usually fall quite close together - I think I know what I'll be drinking this year.

Basil Cranberry Julep

2 oz. mezcal
1 oz. cranberry syrup*
1/4 oz. agave nectar
6 basil leaves

Add basil leaves and agave nectar to the bottom of a julep cup and muddle gently. Add the mezcal and cranberry syrup. Fill the cup with crushed ice, mounding it on top. Garnish with two basil leaves and some fresh cranberries, if desired. Drizzle about 1/4 oz. cranberry syrup on top.

*For cranberry syrup, Nick recommends reducing cranberry juice in a saucepan and adding sugar. You can also simmer fresh cranberries in equal parts water and sugar until they begin to break down. Crush them with a spoon and then strain the syrup. Either way, let it cool completely before using.

Recipe from The Straight Up.

Cinnsation

Boston has been unseasonably warm this December. Though I worry about what it means for the future (both in terms of how much snow we're destined to get in January and, you know, this whole global climate change thing), it's actually pretty nice not to have to bundle up in multiple layers with gloves and a hat and snow boots every time you want to walk the dog. Besides, it still felt like Christmas to me. I grew up in Louisiana, where Christmas temperatures in the 40's and 50's are not unusual.

But then I flew down to Louisiana on Sunday, and it turns out that temperatures in the 50's in Boston translate to temperatures in the 70's here. It does not feel like Christmas. I didn't bring nearly enough short-sleeved shirts. We usually light a fire every evening, but it's way too warm for it. I can't even bring myself to have the dog try on his brand-new Christmas sweater; it just seems cruel.

So obviously we're not making batches of Hot Toddies here. But the Cinnsation is actually the perfect cocktail for this weather. It's cool and refreshing, but its flavors of tart apple, smoky mezcal, and spicy cinnamon are perfect for the winter we wish we were having. It evokes spice cake and warm apple cider and sitting by the fire. It's a warm-weather winter cocktail.

The recipe calls for an aged mezcal, but lacking that I used mezcal joven and was still quite happy with the cocktail. I can definitely see how the flavor of an aged mezcal would be even better. I never think of mezcal as a holiday spirit, but the smoky flavor is really perfect for the season.

History: The Cinnsation was created by Phil Ward at Mayahuel in Manhattan. Ward is also the mastermind behind the Division Bell and the Oaxaca Old Fashioned. I'm headed to NYC in early January and Mayahuel is on my list of must-visit bars.

Cinnsation

1 1/2 oz. aged mezcal
1 1/2 oz. mulled apple cider*
3/4 oz. lemon juice
1/2 oz. cinnamon syrup**
1 dash Peychaud's bitters

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into an ice-filled highball glass and garnish with an apple slice and a cinnamon stick.

*You can buy mulled apple cider, but you can also make it by adding spices to plain cider. I kept it simple and just added two cinnamon sticks, several cloves, and a bit of grated nutmeg to a cup of cider, letting it infuse for a few hours.

**For cinnamon syrup, combine 1 cup of sugar and 1 cup of water in a saucepan with 4 cinnamon sticks broken into pieces. Bring to a boil and then reduce the heat, letting the mixture simmer for 8-10 minutes, stirring frequently. Remove from heat and let cool completely before use.

Recipe from Imbibe.

Oaxaca Old Fashioned

If you want to put a unique spin on a classic recipe, a pretty surefire way to do it is to work in some mezcal. The deep smokiness gives just about everything a delicious facelift if done right. I see mezcal variations popping up all over the place: mezcal mules, mezcal palomas, mezcal sours, mezcal juleps... I recently featured a Mezcal Smash and even attempted a mezcal Manhattan. But, as I learned while trying to come up with the Manhattan recipe, it's not always so simple as replacing the base spirit with mezcal. This is even more true when it comes to the Old Fashioned.

The Old Fashioned is the original cocktail, and it's a simple one at that. Spirits, sugar, bitters. Modifying it requires a certain amount of subtlety. But this variation puts a nice, agave-centric spin on the classic. With tequila reposado, mezcal, agave nectar, and mole bitters, it sticks to the formula of the Old Fashioned without actually keeping a single ingredient.

The Oaxaca Old Fashioned also calls for a flamed orange twist. Flaming a twist is something I didn't mention in my post on twists. Maybe I should have, because it's fun, dramatic, and actually educational - it gives you a really clear view of the oils expelled from the twist, which are usually all but invisible. It does not involve lighting the twist on fire; instead, the oils pass through the fire, giving them a nice caramelized flavor. It does require you to be a bit more ambidextrous than the usual twist. First, strike a match and hold it over the glass in your non-dominant hand (being careful not to panic and drop it into your cocktail if it burns too low). In your other hand, pick up your orange twist with the outside facing the match. Hold the twist between your thumb and middle finger or forefinger and bend it in half by bringing your fingers together. The ends should bend towards your hand, the middle out towards the drink. You should see little flickers as the oils are expelled and pass through the flame into the cocktail. Blow out the match and rub the peel on the edges of the glass when you're done.

History: The name of this cocktail is a reference to the Mexican province where most mezcal is made, Oaxaca. It was created by Phil Ward at Death & Company. Ward left to open Mayahuel and create many more delicious mezcal and tequila cocktails, such as the Division Bell.

Oaxaca Old Fashioned

1 1/2 oz. tequila reposado
1/2 oz. mezcal
1 tsp. agave nectar (I like a little less)
2 dashes mole bitters

Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass with ice and stir until chilled. Strain into an old fashioned glass filled with ice. Garnish with a flamed orange twist.

Note: Other versions of this recipe use Angostura bitters instead of mole, and some omit the flaming of the orange twist.

Recipe adapted from Imbibe and Kindred Cocktails.

Grilled Pineapple Margarita

The Margarita is a cocktail that positively begs for experimentation. There are so many different things you can do with it. One of the easiest variations is just to add different fruits. I already made Peach Margaritas, which were really good.

But these Grilled Pineapple Margaritas are better.

This recipe, from Erin of Platings and Pairings, is amazing. It requires a fair bit of preparation, but it's completely worth it. This is a whole other level of margarita.

First of all, you're not just throwing in some pineapple - it's grilled pineapple. If you've never grilled pineapple, you should know that it's delicious. It gets sweet and caramelized and smoky. You're going to want to grill it well ahead of time so it has time to cool. Try not to eat it all while you wait.

On top of that, this margarita uses jalapeno-infused tequila. It's the first time I've made it, but I can already see myself experimenting with it in lots of cocktails. This also needs to be made ahead of time. Since I didn't want to make a lot, I poured about 4 ounces of tequila blanco into a mason jar and added half a jalapeno, sliced. Though Erin recommended letting the tequila infuse for 12 hours, I tasted it after only one hour and thought it was spicy enough for me. The longer you let it sit (and the more jalapeno you use), the spicier it will be. If you overdo it, just add some more tequila to dilute it.

Erin's recipe calls for 1 1/2 ounces of the jalapeno tequila, but I decided to cut this back to one ounce and add 1/2 ounce mezcal to play up the smokiness of the pineapple. The final special touch is a teaspoon of vanilla, which really brings all the flavors together. It is so good!

Grilled Pineapple Margarita

1 oz. jalapeno-infused tequila*
1/2 oz. mezcal
1/2 oz. triple sec
2 slices grilled pineapple** (I used a little less)
1 1/2 oz. lime juice
1 oz. agave nectar
1 tsp. vanilla extract

*For jalapeno-infused tequila: Slice jalapeno and combine with tequila blanco. Use roughly one jalapeno pepper per cup of tequila. Let the tequila infuse until it's spicy enough for your taste, 1-12 hours. Strain to remove jalapeno slices.

**For grilled pineapple: Slice fresh pineapple into 1-inch thick rings. Remove the rind, and the core if desired (I removed the core after they'd cooked). Preheat a grill to medium-high. Grill pineapple slices for 4-5 minutes each side, until pineapple is softened and has browned grill marks. Let cool and store in the refrigerator until you're ready to make your cocktail.

Combine all ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth. Strain through a fine sieve to remove pineapple pieces. Erin suggests adding as much as 3/4 cup water in the blender to reduce the thickness of the liquid; I omitted it water, but did find it difficult to strain the mixture. Pour the strained cocktail into a shaker and shake with ice until well chilled. Coat the rim of a rocks glass with salt and fill the glass with crushed ice. Strain the cocktail into the prepared glass. Garnish with a piece of grilled pineapple.

Recipe adapted from Platings & Pairings.

Mezcal Smash

There's an entire shelf in my apartment dedicated to old issues of Food & Wine and Bon Appetit that I've never looked at. I mean, I'm not just going to throw them away. They're filled with recipes! It turns out they're just about all on the internet, and you can even browse by individual issues, so the magazines are kind of redundant. But, much to the consternation of the poor movers who transferred at least two boxes of magazines to our new apartment, I insist upon looking through them before I throw them into the recycling bin. I did, at least, cancel my subscriptions once I accumulated a significant pile.

After my defense I finally found time to flip through a few issues. I went for all the summer ones to get some seasonally-appropriate recipes. The August 2012 issue of Bon Appetit had a whole double-page of smash recipes, including the Strawberry Balsamic Smash and this one, the Mezcal Smash. Since I love mezcal, I knew I had to try this one as well.

I was intrigued by the lack of any citrus juice in the recipe, and ultimately I felt like it was a major flaw. It was just too sweet without it. But just a bit of lime juice rounded it out perfectly to my taste. The cinnamon simple syrup is a really nice compliment to the mezcal, and the pineapple flavor ends up pretty subtle. The smoky taste of the mezcal is front and center, but it's definitely softened. This would be a good gateway cocktail for mezcal skeptics. If you're sure you don't like mezcal, you could substitute in tequila instead, but I'd go for an anejo or reposado to make up for the lost flavor.

History: This Mezcal Smash was invented by Damon Boelte of Prime Meats in Brooklyn, NY.

Mezcal Smash

2 oz. mezcal
3/4 oz. cinnamon simple syrup*
1/4 oz. lime juice
2 1-inch cubes fresh pineapple

Place pineapple, cinnamon simple syrup, and lime juice at the bottom of a shaker or mixing glass and muddle to release the juices. Add mezcal. Double-strain into a rocks glass. Fill halfway with crushed ice and stir. Top with more crushed ice and garnish with a cinnamon stick and a pineapple leaf.

*For cinnamon simple syrup: combine 1 cup sugar in 1 cup water in a saucepan and simmer until sugar is dissolved, stirring. Add 3 cinnamon sticks and let steep, uncovered, until cinnamon flavor has infused the syrup. (I only used 1/4 cup each of sugar and water and steeped one cinnamon stick in it for about 3 hours.)

Recipe from Bon Appetit.

Mixology Monday: Cuauhtémoc

This month's Mixology Monday theme is "I'll Take Manhattan!" The challenge is to come up with your own spin on, you guessed it, the Manhattan. That's a fair bit of pressure. I mean, it's one thing to improve upon a cocktail you're ashamed you ever drank, but it's dangerous to mess with perfection.


When I saw the announcement, my Monday post on mezcal was still fresh in my mind. I'd just gotten done writing about how bartenders are swapping out the main ingredients in classic cocktails with mezcal left and right. So why not a mezcal Manhattan? It was worth a try.



After much trial and error (the fun kind, where you get to drink the errors), I decided that simply swapping out rye for mezcal didn't work; the mezcal was too overpowering. I tried adding in some reposado tequila to tone it down, but that just didn't harmonize with the vermouth the way that rye does. Then I remembered my recent taste test of blanco, reposado, and anejo tequilas. Reposado and anejo are both aged in bourbon barrels, giving them smoky vanilla notes similar to that of bourbon. The taste wasn't strong enough in my reposado, but I thought an anejo might work better. I would have loved to splurge on Cabo Wabo, the anejo I tried before I wrote the post, but the $60 price tag was a bit much. I settled on Espolon, which seems to be consistently rated highly for its price ($30). And it really worked. To keep with the theme, I also switched out the Angostura bitters with Bittermen's Xocoltl Mole Bitters.

I decided to give my creation a somewhat unwieldy name: the Cuauhtémoc. Cuauhtémoc is the main borough of Mexico City, essentially what Manhattan is for New York. Hard to spell, easy to drink. I bet mine won't be the only tequila or mezcal Manhattan in the Mixology Monday bunch, and I can't wait to see what other folks come up with. Cheers!

UPDATE: The MXMO roundup is here!

Cuauhtémoc

2 oz. anejo tequila (I used Espolon)
1 oz. sweet vermouth (I used Carpano Antica Formula)
1/2 oz. mezcal
2 dashes mole bitters

Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass with ice and stir until chilled. Strain into a cocktail glass or coupe. Garnish with a slice of lime and a brandied cherry.

Maximillian Affair

Boston has a lot of great cocktail bars, and one of the best is Drink in Fort Point. This bar, part of star chef Barbara Lynch's Boston empire, is all about craft cocktails. The staff includes some of the best bartenders in the city, so rather than restrict customers with a menu, the folks at Drink just ask, "What do you like?" Given a base spirit or a few vague hints, they usually whip up something spectacular. That's exactly what happened last time I went. I was with a big group of friends and not sitting at the bar. When the waiter asked what I'd like, I froze - I had no idea. So I just told him I really liked unusual cocktails and to please surprise me. (The bartenders probably groaned when they heard that one.) He came back with a Maximillian Affair.

The Maximillian Affair uses mezcal, which is going to add a strong smoky taste to any cocktail. But to brighten it up and make it drinkable for even the mezcal-averse, it is paired with sweet, floral St. Germain. Punt e Mes and lemon juice round out the recipe. I was thrilled to find the exact proportions online after my visit to Drink. I recently made one for a friend, and he called it a perfect ten. The blending of spirits is really just dead on. It's sweet and sour, smoky and floral. Easily one of my all-time favorite cocktails.

Manet's depiction of the execution of Maximillian Ferdinand, Emperor of Mexico

History: The Maximillian Affair was invented by Misty Kalkofen when she worked at Green Street in Cambridge, MA. But she now works at Drink, and may have even been the one to make me my first Maximillian Affair - I didn't know enough about the Boston cocktail scene at the time to wonder. The name of this incredible concoction comes from the French invasion of Mexico in the 1860's (Mexico's victory in one particular battle, on May 5, 1862, is the origin of Cinco de Mayo). France had control of the country for nearly five years. Because they were trying to make nice with Austria following the Franco-Austrian war, they installed Maximillian Ferdinand, younger brother of Emperor Franz Joseph I, as Emperor of Mexico. As you might imagine, the Mexicans were none too pleased with this development, and eventually won back their independence and had Maximillian executed (as painted by Manet above). The entire incident has become known as the Maximillian Affair. It's an apt name for a cocktail that blends Mexican mezcal with French St. Germain. Only, in the cocktail, it's a far more harmonious pairing.

Maximillian Affair

1 oz. mezcal

1 oz. St. Germain

1/2 oz. Punt e Mes or other sweet vermouth

1/2 oz. lemon juice

Combine all ingredients in a shaker over ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a cocktail glass or coupe. Garnish with a lemon peel. Raise a glass for poor Max.

Recipe from cocktail virgin slut.

Bottle Buy: Mezcal

Mezcal is currently one of my favorite spirits. Just about every cocktail bar you go to will have a mezcal cocktail on the menu these days, and I can rarely resist trying them. Bartenders are dishing out everything from Old Fashioneds to Last Words with mezcal in place of the usual main ingredient. When I was in Denver last week, I went to the fabulous Green Russell and had their Oaxacan Velvet: mezcal, Yellow Chartreuse, lime juice, strawberry balsamic syrup, and cava (they actually used Del Maguey Crema de Mezcal, which is bit unique). Champagne cocktail + mezcal = GarnishGirl heaven.

You may remember from my post on tequila that mezcal is not a type of tequila; it's actually the other way around. Mezcal is a word for any spirit made from agave. Tequila is specifically made from blue agave (Agave tequiliana), whereas mezcal is made from a number of different species and varieties that can even be mixed within a single bottle. The most common is the Oaxacan variety called Espadin, Agave angustifolia. In addition to these different varieties, mezcal also comes in the same four age categories as tequila (blanco/plata, reposado, anejo, super anejo), except that the unaged or barely-aged blanco or plata variety is referred to as joven ("young").

Mezcal is also the stuff that sometimes has a worm in the bottle. Actually, please forgive a biologist for geeking on you for a moment: it's not actually a worm, but a larva. And there are two different species that are commonly used, white and red. The white "worm" is a larva of Aegiale hesperiaris, a butterfly known as the Tequila Giant Skipper, and the red is a larva of Comadia redtenbacheri, a moth without any common name I can find - as a larva, it's known as the Agave Redworm. (That's probably as many scientific names as I'll ever be able to fit into a post about liquor.) Anyway, both of these species are actually pests that infect the Maguey plant, and putting them in mezcal is not some long-time Mexican tradition. It was actually started as a marketing ploy, and only used by makers of cheap, bad mezcal. If you ever see a bottle with a worm in it, don't waste your money.

The taste of Mezcal is intense and smoky. It's kind of like drinking a cigar. Every time I have some, I'm reminded of an episode from the first season of New Girl in which Jake Johnson visits the study of a character played by Dylan McDermott and says: "It smells like leather, and Teddy Roosevelt, and wistfulness. It smells like Shakespeare, if Shakespeare were a damn cowboy. And a hawk's nest, and boat fuel, and cigars... man stuff." This is exactly how mezcal tastes.

If this description appeals to you, then you probably don't need much more convincing that a bottle of mezcal is a worthy addition to your bar. If you're still a bit skeptical, it's worth trying a mezcal cocktail next time you get a chance. Some of my favorite cocktails that use it - like the one below - pair it with enough citrus and sweetness that the smoky taste is far from overwhelming. But it adds incredible dimensionality to a cocktail. The brand I currently have is Fidencio, but Del Maguey is also very good and is cheaper. Another I see on a lot of menus is Sombra.

Mezcal

Price: $30 and up
Alcohol Content: Around 45%
Popular Cocktails: My current favorites include the Division Bell, Maximilian Affair, and Maguey Sour.

I have trouble choosing a favorite mezcal cocktail, but this one ought to be a pretty good crowd pleaser and introduction to the spirit.

History: The Division Bell was created by Phil Ward for Mayahuel in Manhattan. It was named after the Pink Floyd album he was listening to at the time.

Division Bell

1 oz. mezcal
3/4 oz. Aperol
3/4 oz. lime juice
1/2 oz. maraschino liqueur

Combine ingredients in a shaker. Add ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a coupe glass and garnish with a grapefruit twist if you have one - it really brings out the grapefruit notes in the cocktail. If not, a lemon twist will do.

Recipe from cocktail virgin slut.

Bar School: Tequila

Oh, tequila. While gin and bourbon evoke thoughts of complex cocktails and subtle taste variations, tequila tends to be relegated to the realm of "Hey, let's do shots!" Until recently, I only knew that it came in clear and not-clear varieties. But a few trips to Mexico also alerted me to the fact that the attitude towards tequila in the United States is very different from that in Mexico, where it is treated more like bourbon: served straight up and slowly sipped. Certainly tequila's unique flavor adds a lot to a cocktail. And since just about everybody will be sipping it tomorrow in honor of Cinco de Mayo, I wanted to know more about its history and the different varieties.

Tequila is a distilled spirit made from blue agave (Agave tequiliana). It's named for the town of Tequila in Jalisco, Mexico, where much of it is made. Legally, it can only be produced in Jalisco and in limited parts of a few other Mexican states. The volcanic soil of these regions makes them perfect for growing agave. The plants take up to 12 years to mature enough to be harvested. The leaves and thorns are stripped away, leaving the massive heart of the plant. This is roasted and crushed to collect its juice, which is fermented, distilled, and aged in bourbon casks. Like wine, tequila is affected by the soil and climate in which the agave is grown and also by the length and conditions of the aging process.

The Aztecs made their own alcoholic beverage from fermented agave, so when the Spaniards arrived in the 16th century and ran out of their own booze, they started distilling agave to produce something like modern tequila. The first tequila factory was started in 1600 by a Spanish nobleman, Don Pedro Sanchez de Tagle, in Jalisco. But it wasn't until the late 1800's that Don Cenobia Sauza of Sauza tequila brought the spirit to the United States - a surprisingly long time for a beverage that had been made for centuries.

There are four main types of tequila, as well as some other varieties to be on the lookout for:

Tequila Blanco or Plata: This is the clear stuff. It is aged for less than two months. Blanco has a higher alcohol content than Plata. "Silver" can refer to either of these varieties. They have a clean flavor and strong agave taste, and are often used for mixing cocktails.

Tequila Reposado: This tequila is aged from two months to one year, and has a faint golden color. It begins to take on the smoky, vanilla taste of an aged tequila.

Tequila Anejo: Anejo is aged from one to three years, and looks more like whiskey in color. The taste is more intense than reposado. Anejo is often sipped like bourbon or scotch, though is occasionally used in cocktails. It can be significantly more expensive than blanco or reposado.

Tequila Extra-Anejo: This category was recognized in 2006. It refers to tequila that has been aged more than three years.

Mezcal: Mezcal describes any spirit made from agave, so it is not tequila; rather, tequila is a type of mezcal. I'm going to talk more about this in an upcoming post (and there is a lot to say), but to keep it short: mezcal is made through the same process as tequila, but from another species of agave called Maguey (Agave americana). It has a much more intense, smoky flavor than tequila even when it hasn't been aged.

In Mexico, you may also see "Tequila Mixto" on a label, which means that what's in the bottle is not 100% agave. The rest is usually sugar-based alcohol. In the United States, tequila only has to be 51% agave to earn its name, so you should look for "100% agave" on the bottle (this is true of mezcal too). This Forbes article points out that the pervasiveness of this cheaper mixed tequila in the US is what has given it a reputation for causing bad hangovers. Also watch out for "gold" tequila, which has had caramel coloring added to give it the look of reposado.

My tequila flight: from left to right, blanco, reposado, and anejo.

After doing the research for this post, I really wanted to compare the different tequilas side by side, and just happened to end up at Sunset Cantina on Commonwealth Avenue the next day. They do what they call "B.A.R. flights" (blanco, anejo, reposado) of various brands of tequila. The waiter recommended Cabo Wabo, and I was impressed by how smooth it was. It was also really eye-opening to compare the smell and taste of the three levels of aging. The blanco was very herbal and bright. The reposado had a richer vanilla quality. And the anejo had tons of it. It was surprising how much it reminded me of bourbon without losing that tequila taste. I could definitely sip on a whole glass of it.

So, there you have it: tequila. Salud!