Principessa di Sole

There's nothing I love better than cracking open a new cocktail recipe book. More often than not, the entire side and/or top of the book quickly becomes bristly with little post-it tabs marking the drinks I'd like to try. It's true that there are many, many great recipes available on the internet, but there's something special about having the physical books. They're like tomes of potions or magic spells waiting to be mixed up.

If I had my way, I would own pretty much every cocktail recipe book ever published. But since I have a small budget and an even smaller apartment, I've kept my collection to a single shelf. And recently, I was overjoyed to add Maggie Hoffman's Batch Cocktails to it. It's a book of large-format drinks that you can make ahead to serve at parties or get-togethers. I was expecting a lot of citrusy punches full of fruits and syrups, and there are plenty of these, but I was very impressed by how many spirit-forward options Maggie includes as well. It makes sense - once citrus fruit is juiced, the liquid begins to change in acidity and bitterness, so you can't make citrusy cocktails as far in advance as more spiritous drinks, which you can literally age for months. The book is a really balanced collection of recipes (including non-alcoholic options), and I honestly wish it had the proportions for single drinks as well as the large batches, because I definitely want to make some of these just for me, and I'd rather not have to do math.

I freely confess that while the Principessa di Sole did sound delicious, I chose to make it primarily because of its vibrant color and lovely garnish. But I was blown away by this drink. Made with Amaro Montenegro*, white rum, raspberry syrup, citrus juices, and sparkling wine, it is absolutely, utterly delicious. It balances boozy, bitter, citrusy, sweet, and fizzy in just the right way. I will 100% be bringing a pitcher of it to my next party. But in case you don't have any upcoming social engagements, I've also figured out the recipe for a single a drink and included it below. You might wish you'd made yourself a pitcher.

*Alas, we have not talked about Amaro Montenegro much yet, and I usually like to officially introduce an ingredient before I use it so prominently in a cocktail. I discuss it a little in my post on Amari. It's one of the most popular amari out there and definitely one I recommend, but you could try substituting Averna or Cynar here.

History: The Principessa di Sole was created by Elliot Clark of Bon Voyage in San Francisco.

Principessa di Sole

For one cocktail:

1 1/2 oz. Amaro Montenegro
1/2 oz. white rum
1-2 dashes Peychaud's bitters
1/2 oz. raspberry syrup**
1/2 oz. lemon juice
1/4 oz. lime juice
2 oz. sparkling wine

Combine everything except sparkling wine in a shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a rocks glass filled with ice and top with the sparkling wine. Garnish with a mint sprig, a raspberry, and a lime wheel.

For 10 servings:

1 3/4 cups plus 2 tbsp. Amaro Montenegro
1/2 cup plus 2 tbsp. white rum
2 tsp. Peychaud's bitters
1/2 cup plus 2 tbsp. chilled raspberry syrup
1/2 cup plus 2 tbsp. lemon juice
5 tbsp. lime juice
2 1/2 cups chilled sparkling wine
10 mint sprigs
10 raspberries
10 lime wheels

At least 2 hours and up to 24 hours before serving, make the batch. Pour Amaro Montenegro, white rum, bitters, and chilled raspberry syrup into a 2-quart pitcher and stir to mix. Seal well, covering with plastic wrap if needed, and refrigerate.

Up to 2 hours before serving, prepare lemon and lime juice and stir into the pitcher mix. Reseal and return to the refrigerator if not serving immediately.

To serve, stir well. Gently pour in chilled sparkling wine, then stir mixture gently once more. Pour into ice-filled rocks glasses or punch cups. Garnish each glass with a mint sprig, a fresh raspberry, and a lime wheel. (Alternatively, serve in a punch bowl with all the garnishes thrown in - Maggie doesn't recommend this in the recipe but there's a picture of it and it's a beautiful presentation.)

**For raspberry syrup, combine 1 cup sugar and 1/2 cup water in a saucepan over medium heat and stir constantly, until sugar is dissolved. Add raspberries and stir. Cook for about 2 minutes, using the back of the spoon to mash the raspberries against the side of the pan. Remove from heat and let steep, covered, for 30 minutes. Strain through a fine-mesh strainer into a resealable container and refrigerate until chilled or up to 1 week.

Recipe from Batch Cocktails. I was gifted an advance copy of the book.

Fallback

We are currently in my absolute favorite time of year. The holidays are just so joyful. There are so many happy events and opportunities to get together with friends and family. It's not yet bitterly cold, but the temperature is low enough to turn on the heat and snuggle up under a blanket. Preferably with a whiskey cocktail.

The one thing I don't like about this time of year is how short the days are. It seemed bad enough as fall began, but then Daylight Savings Time ended. We "fall back" and suddenly it's getting dark at 4 pm! This makes it supremely inconvenient to get good cocktail photos. I like to shoot with natural light, but I'm not usually going to have a drink in the mid-afternoon. I end up having to just set things aside for later. My husband has gotten used to coming home and taking a peek in the fridge to check whether anything I made earlier that day is waiting to be consumed.

It was with this annual disgruntlement in mind that I picked the Fallback out of Regarding Cocktails. In addition to the appropriate name, it's made with Applejack and Amaro Nonino, a couple of my favorite fall ingredients. They lend flavors of apple, spice, vanilla, and brown sugar to rye and sweet vermouth. The Nonino and a couple of dashes of Peychaud's give the drink just the right amount of bitterness. It's utterly perfect for the fall.

And it still tastes just fine if you have to throw it in the fridge until cocktail hour.

History: The Fallback was created by Sasha Petraske for John Dory Oyster Bar in New York City.

Fallback

1 oz. rye whiskey
1 oz. Applejack or apple brandy
1/2 oz. sweet vermouth (Carpano Antica recommended)
1/2 oz. Amaro Nonino
2 dashes Peychaud's bitters

Build the drink in a rocks glass beginning with the bitters. Add one large cube of ice and stir until the drink is chilled. Garnish with an orange twist.

Recipe adapted from Regarding Cocktails.

D-Day Rum Sazerac (+ Baby News!)

Guess what? I had a baby! My son Luke was born at the end of September, and my husband and I have been busy figuring out this whole "parenting" thing for the last month. It's absolutely amazing. I was never a baby person, and I'm totally in love with this little guy. Everyone talks about how hard it is to care for a newborn - and it is hard! - but I wasn't expecting how much fun it is too. Although I think he was set to easy mode for the first two weeks, and recently decided we were ready for him to ramp things up... for the past few days, there's definitely been a lot more crying and a lot less sleeping. On both our parts.

Nonetheless, I'm so excited to get back to making, drinking, and posting cocktails! I know I mentioned my pregnancy a lot, but I promise I won't be constantly talking about Luke and posting baby pictures. We're all here for the cocktail recipes.

Oh, all right. If you insist. Just this once.

I had a few people ask what my first drink was going to be after I had the baby, and I honestly didn't have one picked out. But the D-Day Sazerac was pretty high on my list. I tried it for the first time before I got pregnant and made it for some guests during the pregnancy. Everyone was raving about it, and I have to say I felt a bit bummed out sipping my club soda. I'm pretty thrilled to be drinking one at last.

This recipe switches up the traditional Sazerac by replacing the rye with Jamaican rum (the original recipe calls for Smith & Cross Navy Strength; I used Appleton Estate Reserve Blend) and sweetening the cocktail with Steen's Cane Syrup, a thick, dark, unrefined syrup that is a classic southern ingredient. If you can't get your hands on some, Demerara syrup or molasses is a fine substitute here. I like making mine with another Louisiana product, Cocktail & Sons Spiced Demerara Syrup. The fruity, funky flavor of the rum blends perfectly with the Herbsaint and bitters. It makes me want to try rum in lieu of whiskey more often.



History: The D-Day Sazerac was created by Scotty Dagenhart at the Green Goddess in New Orleans. His inspiration for the drink is pretty cool: at one point, the bar was unable to get any of their usual rye whiskey, and this reminded Dagenhart of how the Hurricane was created during World War II when bars in New Orleans couldn't get their hands on whiskey but had plenty of rum. As the menu says, "We invented this to imagine New Orleans captured by German U-boats, leaving us without any rye whiskey to make our hometown Sazeracs." Dagenhart presumably chose D-Day for the cocktail's moniker because of the D-Day Museum (now the National World War II Museum) in New Orleans.

In the words of cocktail writer Michael Dietsch, "If that's wartime austerity, bring on the goddamn war."

D-Day Rum Sazerac

2 oz. Smith & Cross Navy Strength Rum (I used Appleton Estate Reserve Blend)
1/4 oz. Steen's Cane Syrup (I used Cocktail & Sons Spiced Demerara Syrup)
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash Peychaud's bitters
Herbsaint rinse

Combine rum, syrup, and bitters in a mixing glass with ice and stir until chilled. Rinse an Old Fashioned glass with Herbsaint and strain in the cocktail. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Recipe adapted from The Nola Defender.

Improved Japanese Cocktail

What qualifies as a Tiki drink? This article by Doug Winship I found today makes it clear that it's not a simple question. Apparently people have strong and differing opinions on this issue. I always thought anything vaguely tropical or beachy involving rum probably qualified, and Doug basically agrees with this. But he cites an article by Humuhumu that argues that a drink has to be created in a Tiki bar to really qualify - knocking out things like the Daiquiri, the Singapore Sling, the Pina Colada, all of which were created in actual foreign, tropical locations rather than under a plastic bamboo awning in Los Angeles. It's kind of funny to think that it's the inauthenticity that actually makes an authentic Tiki cocktail.

I'm not sure the Improved Japanese Cocktail would qualify as Tiki under most criteria. It was not created at a Tiki bar. It has no elaborate garnish, and it doesn't even contain rum. But it does contain orgeat, and lots of it, which made me think Tiki as soon as I took a sip. Orgeat is an almond syrup. It's used in the Mai Tai and a number of other Tiki drinks, and I think of it as a thoroughly Tiki ingredient. But it turns out that orgeat pre-dates Tiki by quite a lot. Jerry Thomas was serving up cocktails containing orgeat in the 1860's, most notably the Japanese Cocktail, which this cocktail is based on: Cognac, orgeat, and bitters. The "improvement" is the addition of lemon juice.

So if you want some of the flavor of Tiki in classic cocktail form, the Improved Japanese Cocktail might be for you.

History: This cocktail comes from Toby Cecchini at the Long Island Bar in Brooklyn. But, as I mentioned, its ancestor the Japanese Cocktail goes much further back. Jerry Thomas included it in his famous 1862 Bartender's Guide. As far as why he called it a Japanese cocktail when none of its ingredients are even remotely Japanese: he was tending bar at the Metropolitan Hotel when it housed the first Japanese delegation to the United States in 1860. It seems likely that he created it in their honor. Some accounts take the story a bit further, suggesting that the delegation's translator, Tateishi "Tommy" Onojirou Noriyuki, spent a good amount of time quaffing drinks with Thomas, and might have individually inspired the cocktail.

Improved Japanese Cocktail

2 oz. Cognac
1 oz. orgeat
1 oz. lemon juice
3 dashes Peychaud's bitters

Combine all ingredients in a shaker. Add ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a cocktail or coupe glass.

Recipe from The Barman Cometh.

De La Louisiane

Guess what, blog readers? I have officially defended my dissertation. Call me Dr. GarnishGirl. Or don't, actually. That just sounds silly.

Anyway, though I've still got to finish up that pesky thesis, I'm excited to have a bit more time to blog and make cocktails and enjoy what's left of the summer. I've got a few more summery drinks coming your way, but today I thought I'd take a little break and talk about something a little different: the De La Louisiane.

With its rye, sweet vermouth, Benedictine, and Peychaud's bitters, the De La Louisiane is quite similar to the Vieux Carre, another classic New Orleans cocktail. It lacks the Vieux Carre's Cognac, and also amps up the herbal notes that are only hinted at in the Vieux Carre to extremes with much more Benedictine and a few dashes of absinthe (as usual, I used Herbsaint). As such, it's a much more polarizing taste; if you don't like absinthe or Benedictine, I'd steer clear of this one. But if you do, they work beautifully together for a very layered, complex cocktail, something you're going to want to sip slowly and savor.

History: This was the signature cocktail of the restaurant La Louisiane in New Orleans. The hotel and restaurant was opened in 1881 by Louis Bezaudun in a residence on Iberville Street that had been built in 1837. It became famous for its Creole cuisine and served many famous guests, from Teddy Roosevelt to Harry Houdini. It closed in 1932, and the property changed hands several times. In 1954, it became an Italian restaurant also called La Louisiane. It was sold again in 1998 and has been renovated and re-opened as a restaurant and event space in the spirit of the original Creole restaurant.

The recipe for the De La Louisiane (sometimes just called the La Louisiane) was first published in Stanley Clisby Arthur's 1937 book Famous New Orleans Drinks and How to Mix 'Em. His recipe called for equal parts rye, Benedictine, and sweet vermouth. This version from The PDT Cocktail Book tones down the sweetness and increases the rye for a well-balanced cocktail.

De La Louisiane

2 oz. rye
3/4 oz sweet vermouth
3/4 oz. Benedictine
3 dashes* absinthe or Herbsaint
3 dashes Peychaud's bitters

Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass and stir well with ice. Strain into a coupe glass and garnish with three brandied cherries.

*A "dash" is easy with a bottle of bitters, but tougher with something like absinthe. One dash should equal about 1/8 tsp.

Recipe adapted from The PDT Cocktail Book.

Nouveau Carre

Hot on the heels of the Vieux Carre comes this unique concoction, which takes the mix of rye, Cognac, and sweet vermouth and gives it a makeover - with tequila. It seemed odd to me at first, but wait until you taste it. I realized ahead of making this that just about every tequila cocktail I can think of employs some kind of citrus juice. Tequila just goes so well with lemon, lime, and orange. But it can also work beautifully with other spirits, and that's what this cocktail is about. It calls for aged anejo tequila, which is more flavorful than its blanco and reposado counterparts, and much more reminiscent of the whiskey in the original cocktail. It's mixed with sweet, herbal Benedictine, rounded out with Peychaud's bitters and Lillet blanc. I don't think I've talked about Lillet yet; it's an aperitif wine similar to dry vermouth, most famous for its inclusion in the Vesper Martini of James Bond fame. The finished product is really a very different take on a spirit I use often. Definitely worth mixing up.

History: The Nouveau Carre was invented by Jonny Raglin in 2005. Raglin is currently one of the owners of the Comstock Saloon in San Francisco. According to their website, he claims his secrets to success are to always use three ingredients in his cocktails, and have The Savoy Cocktail Book in your pocket.

Nouveau Carre

1 1/2 oz. anejo tequila

3/4 oz. Lillet Blanc

1/4 oz. Benedictine

3 dashes Peychaud's bitters

Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass or shaker with ice. Stir until well-chilled. Strain into a cocktail glass or coupe. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Recipe from theSpeakista and The PDT Cocktail Book.

Vieux Carre

When I started this blog, I knew what the basics were for any good cocktail bar: rye, gin, vermouth, etc. But I really couldn't tell you which rye, gin, vermouth, etc. you ought to buy. My own choices usually came from staring at the liquor store shelf, contemplating price vs. whether I'd ever heard of it before vs. how pretty the label was. Once I found something that worked, I stuck with it.

My main intention with this blog was to learn more about cocktails and novel ingredients rather than getting into the nitty gritty of particular spirits. But you can't spend this much time looking up recipes, researching cocktails, and reading other blogs without getting a few good recommendations. I've slowly gotten a feel for what brands other folks think are good, and I've started spending a little more to get them.

The first time I felt like this really paid off was when I made a Vieux Carre. I had just purchased Pierre Ferrand Cognac and Carpano Antica Formula sweet vermouth, and I used them both in the recipe. I took a sip and actually said, "Wow." It just worked. It tasted perfect. Sophisticated and perfectly balanced. I felt like I had reached some kind of cocktail milestone. And while both ingredients were more expensive than other brands I'd bought in the past, they weren't by that much. Definitely worth it.

The only thing in my Vieux Carre that wasn't fancy-schmancy was the rye. I stuck with my trusty Old Overholt. I still haven't found anything that can beat it at the price point. But I'm open to recommendations.

Whatever you choose to make it with, the Vieux Carre is a beautiful cocktail. Its ingredients harmonize so well. It's exactly sweet enough, with hints of herbs and citrus and bitters that come together exactly as they should. It's a Manhattan with extra layers of flavor.

The Carousel Bar at the Hotel Monteleone (photo from 50 States or Less)

History: The Vieux Carre comes from one of my favorite historic New Orleans bars, the Carousel Bar in the Hotel Monteleone. As the name suggests, the bar is a carousel that actually spins, complete with bright lights, fanciful carvings, and colorful murals. The patrons slowly move in a circle around the bar. It's a beautiful, quirky piece of the French Quarter that I can never resist visiting. They still make excellent cocktails.

At the time of the Vieux Carre's invention in 1938, however, the bar at the Hotel Monteleone only spun if you had too much to drink. It was called the Swan Bar, and the famous carousel would not be installed until 1949. The head bartender, Walter Bergeron, created Vieux Carre as a variation of an older cocktail called the Saratoga, which lacks the Benedictine and Peychaud's. Vieux Carre is the French name for what we call the French Quarter. It translates to "old square."

Vieux Carre

3/4 oz. rye
3/4 oz. cognac
3/4 oz. sweet vermouth
1 tsp. Benedictine
1 dash Peychaud's Bitters
1 dash Angostura Bitters

Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass with ice and stir until well chilled. Strain into a rocks glass, with one large ice cube if desired. Garnish with a lemon twist, a brandied cherry, or both.

Recipe from Chow.com.

Seelbach

I love champagne cocktails, but I understand that many of them can seem a little girly. If you're looking for a recipe for New Year's or a wedding that even the manliest men in your life will enjoy, the Seelbach is a perfect choice. This mixture of bourbon, orange liqueur, and lots of bitters should please whiskey and champagne drinkers alike.

History: The Seelbach was invented in 1917 at the Seelbach Hotel in Louisville, Kentucky. The hotel was frequented by characters such as F. Scott Fitzgerald, who used it as the setting for Tom and Daisy's wedding in The Great Gatsby, and Al Capone, who had secret passageways leading to and from his favorite room. The cocktail was supposedly created when the bartender used a Manhattan to catch the overflow from a champagne bottle.

Seelbach

1 oz. bourbon
1/2 oz. Cointreau or triple sec
7 dashes Angostura bitters
7 dashes Peychaud's bitters
Champagne
Orange peel, for garnish

Combine bourbon, Cointreau or triple sec, and bitters in a mixing glass. Add ice and stir until chilled. Strain into a champagne flute or coupe and top with champagne. Garnish with the orange peel. Toast like this.

Recipe from Punch.

Sazerac

The Sazerac is a classic New Orleans cocktail. It's reminiscent of an Old Fashioned, but the addition of anise-flavored liqueur gives it extra depth. It was originally made with absinthe and Sazerac-de-Forge et Fils cognac, which gave the drink its name. Cognac became hard to come by during the grape blight in France in the late 19th century, so at some point it was replaced by rye. Absinthe was banned in the United States in 1912, so this ingredient was also replaced with other anise-flavored liqueurs. When Herbsaint began production in New Orleans in 1934, it became the common ingredient. I make my Sazeracs with rye and Herbsaint, and I'm pretty happy with the result.

History: I thought I was pretty clear about the history of the Sazerac, and the version I knew went something like this: Sewell T. Taylor, the proprietor of the Merchants Exchange Coffee House in New Orleans, sold his establishment to a fellow named Aaron Bird and began importing liquor. One of the popular liquors he imported was the aforementioned Sazerac-de-Forge et Fils cognac, after which Bird decided to rename the Coffee House. He invented the Sazerac there sometime before 1870. Even David Wondrich supported this account. But it turns out that the history of the Sazerac is so convoluted that even he was fooled at first. For an incredibly in-depth account of this twisting and muddled history, check out this piece by Robert F. Moss. For those who are ready to stop reading and get drinking, I'll do my best to summarize.

Sewell T. Taylor, who supposedly sold his shop to Aaron Bird, does have a connection to a Merchant's Exchange Coffee House (there were at least three in New Orleans during the time period in question). He managed the Exchange's liquor. Around 1850, he opened his own shop across the street that imported and sold liquor - including Sazerac-de-Forge et Fils cognac, which was already popular in the city. It was this establishment, not a Coffee House, that Aaron Bird took over when Taylor died, but only for the three years before he also died. But neither one of them appears to have developed the cocktail recipe in question.

The real source of the Sazerac is probably back at the Merchant's Exchange, which did change its name to the Sazerac Coffee House in the late 1850's. It was a large establishment, which leads to further confusion as to its address; it took up 14-16 Royal Street and 11-13 Exchange Place. It certainly served Sazerac cognac, probably as a cocktail with sugar and Peychaud's bitters. All we're missing is the absinthe.

Thomas H. Handy, who once worked as a clerk at Sewell's importing business, took over the Sazerac Coffee House in 1871. By 1878, he was so badly in debt that he sold the business to Vincent Micas, who also bought out Peychaud's. Micas and Handy became rivals when Handy started his own liquor import business and his own line of bitters. Handy still owned the building that contained the Sazerac Coffee House, and in 1882 Micas moved the establishment (now called the Sazerac Barroom) to Camp Street, and Handy demolished the building and built his own Sazerac House on the same site.

It was at Handy's Sazerac House that the Sazerac cocktail as we know it was born. The earliest written record of it being served appears to be at what was essentially a frat party, the 16th biennial conference of Alpha Tau Omega in 1898. By this point, Handy had died and his business had been taken over by his investor William McQuoid. The first written recipe appears in William T. Boothby's The World's Drinks and How to Mix Them in 1908. It calls for cognac, not rye, and Seiner bitters rather than Peychaud's, Handy's, or any others. (Incidentally, see Moss's article for the story of the nasty lawsuit between Handy and Anthony Commander of Commander's Palace fame over the design of their bitters labels).

The entrance to the Sazerac Bar in the Roosevelt Hotel, New Orleans

One place that was not even remotely involved in the creation of the Sazerac is the Sazerac Bar at the Roosevelt Hotel, though it certainly has a colorful history of its own. I visited it for the first time this past December, and was entranced by the gorgeous classic New Orleans atmosphere and the theatrics of the white-suited bartenders. While you can get an excellent Sazerac at the Roosevelt (made with either rye or cognac), the bar purchased the rights to the use the name from the Sazerac company (the same company once owned by Handy, as far as I know) in the 1940's and relocated to what was the Roosevelt's Main Bar in 1959. The Main Bar had been a favorite haunt of Huey P. Long, who would order the Ramos Gin Fizz.

And that is the true story of the Sazerac. A bit less romantic, a bit more vague, but probably far more accurate. And still a great piece of New Orleans history.

Sazerac

2 oz. rye
1 sugar cube
2 dashes Peychaud's bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters
Herbsaint rinse

Lighty moisten the sugar cube and place at the bottom of a rocks glass. Crush with a muddler. (If you don't have sugar cubes, use 3/4 tsp. sugar.) Add rye and bitters, then fill with ice. Stir. Pour a dash of Herbsaint into a second glass and swirl to coat the sides, or spritz the glass with Herbsaint using a small spray bottle. Strain the cocktail into this glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Recipe adapted from Esquire.