Cosmopolitan

The Cosmopolitan is like a pop song. It was wildly popular for a brief time and became ubiquitous to the point of annoyance. Then one day it became considered cheesy and overdone, an embarrassing thing to like. It's the Macarena of the cocktail world.

Well, we're in a period where everyone seems to crave nostalgia, and I don't doubt that the Macarena is being played a bit more often these days - perhaps even without the usual hefty dose of irony. I mean, I heard "Oops I Did it Again" on the radio three times this week. And it was released in 2000, the year after the Cosmo made its big debut on Sex and the City and became the it-cocktail of the era. It's actually a prime time for the Cosmopolitan to make a comeback.

I also think the importance of the Cosmopolitan to the craft cocktail world shouldn't be understated. In a dark age of cocktails, it was something new and fresh. It reminded us that there are still great drinks out there to be made, still things we haven't tasted. And the Cosmo also made it very clear that presentation matters. Small touches matter. That's why thousands of people opted for the pink drink in the pretty glass with the dash of Cointreau instead of their usual vodka cranberry.

Does this mean I'm frequently mixing up Cosmos for myself at home? No. If I'm being honest, it's not my drink. There's just not enough to it for me - I will always prefer a more flavorful spirit like gin or rum over vodka. But I think it deserves a place in my blog archives, and I will happily whip one up on request. And if you like them, don't be embarrassed.

History: I was quite surprised to discover that the Cosmopolitan's origins are as murky as you might expect from a 200-year-old classic, not a drink invented in the 90's. It's a problem of too much information rather than not enough. Multiple people take credit for the recipe or claim to know when and by whom it was invented. And that may be because it was actually created more than once. Cheryl Charming has written a ridiculously detailed article on the Cosmo's history in which she researches all the various claims in-depth - a worthy read if you're an avid cocktail historian. No doubt some people will disagree with her conclusions, but the impressive amount of research and journalism she has done on the subject makes me feel that she is the most reliable source I've encountered. So below I will sum up her conclusions.

The Cosmopolitan is a variation of the Kamikaze shot, which is made with vodka, lime juice, and triple sec. It appears to have been invented twice independently by two different people who named it the same thing. This does seem rather improbable, but stranger things have happened.

The first inventor is Neal Murray. Around 1975 he was working at the Cork 'n Cleaver Steakhouse in Golden Valley, Minnesota. He made his fair share of Kamikaze shots, and decided to combine the Kamikaze with the Cape Cod (vodka, cranberry juice, and a lime wedge). One of his regulars asked about the drink and Murray replied, "I just thought it needed a little color." This was a joke, as Murray was black and was almost not hired because of it. His regular responded, "How cosmopolitan!" Murray would tell bartenders how to make the drink whenever he traveled, helping the recipe spread.

The second inventor is Cheryl Cook, who tended bar in South Beach, Florida. In March of 1989, Cosmopolitan magazine had just come out with an issue that contained an article on female Maître D's, and it featured one of Cook's coworkers. The cover of the issue was bright pink. Absolut had also just released their Citron vodka, and Cook had a bottle to play with. She made a variation on the Kamikaze with cranberry juice to make it pink like the cover of the magazine. The drink was so popular that the bottle of Absolut ran dry that evening, and the recipe spread to other bars in South Beach and beyond.

Could both tales be true? I'd like to think so, and Charming certainly does. There is ample evidence to support both.

So, on to the drink! There are a lot of Cosmo recipes out there, and they vary not only in the proportions of the ingredients but the ingredients themselves (regular vodka vs. Citron, triple sec vs. Cointreau, Rose's lime juice vs. fresh). I tested several versions and decided I liked the one below the best. Feel free to tweak it until it's perfect for you.

Cosmopolitan

1.5 oz. Absolut Citron
3/4 oz. triple sec
1 oz. cranberry juice
3/4 oz. lime juice

Combine ingredients in a shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a martini glass and garnish with a lime wedge.

Sparkling Cosmo

The Cosmopolitan has gotten a bit of a bad rap over the last few years. And I guess at first blush, it might seem deserved. It's made with vodka, arguably the craft cocktail world's least-favorite spirit. It's bright pink. It was a fixture on Sex and the City. Interestingly, I think that last one was responsible for both the Cosmo's rapid rise and its decline. It became a little too popular to be cool anymore. Plus, around the same time avid HBO viewers were ordering Cosmos, the craft cocktail renaissance was really picking up. It's even easier to turn your nose up at a pink vodka cocktail when you're holding a barrel-aged Negroni served over a perfectly clear hand-carved ice sphere.

But I'd like to argue that the Cosmo deserves a second look. Made correctly, it's a well-balanced, tasty, surprisingly boozy drink. And yes, it's pink. It's fun. It doesn't take itself too seriously. But these are things I value in a cocktail. In fact, if we're already going to be making Cosmos, I say ramp it up. Let's add some champagne!

I was originally only going to post this cocktail to Instagram, but when I realized how ridiculously delicious it was, I knew I needed to write an impromptu blog post as well. The flavors in a Cosmopolitan go great with sparkling wine. I went with a rosé to preserve the pink color and keep it from getting too sweet. It is such a fun, tasty cocktail! I can't imagine anything more perfect for a girl's night (Galentine's Day, anyone?) but it's also perfect for, I don't know... a Tuesday?

I made this drink in collaboration with Snow Leopard Vodka, a brand that gives 15% of its profits to the Snow Leopard Trust to support conservation of these incredible animals. And in the month of January, they are doubling that amount! So if you're going to be making Cosmos, this is the bottle you want to pick up. If you don't need any vodka right now (can't really imagine that, but ok), they are also doubling all donations made via Facebook. Consider giving to help save the snow leopard!

Sparkling Cosmo

1 1/2 oz. vodka
1/2 oz. triple sec
1 oz. cranberry juice
1/2 oz. lime juice
Sparkling rosé, to top (~4 oz)

Combine vodka, triple sec, cranberry juice, and lime juice in a shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a champagne flute and top with sparkling rosé. Garnish with a slice of blood orange or lime.

Periodista

I can trace my love affair with cocktails back to a single evening. I had just found out that I had gotten a competitive NSF fellowship to support me during graduate school, and my husband and I were going to celebrate. Earlier that week I had picked up a copy of one of those free magazines that used to be all over - I think it was Stuff at Night - and they had a feature on the best cocktail bars in Boston. In my mind there wasn't really anything fancier than sitting at a marble-topped bar and sipping a beautiful drink, so we went to one of the places on the list, Eastern Standard. I don't remember what the magazine said that made us pick Eastern Standard, but I do remember the cocktail they featured: the Periodista, a rum drink made with lime juice and apricot and orange liqueurs.

I don't know why the Periodista in that article stuck in my head. I didn't even order it that night - I ended up getting an Aviation, my first one ever, and realizing that there was so much more to cocktails than I had ever known. But I distinctly remember the orangey cocktail pictured in that magazine. I later tried one elsewhere in Boston and found it to be quite as tasty as Stuff at Night made it out to be. Little did I know that the Periodista is a drink with a story behind it.

The Periodista (Spanish for "journalist") is a happy, crowd-pleasing cocktail. Its flavor is bright and citrusy, with tart lime and sweet apricot playing against each other on your tongue. It's like a Daiquiri with a few extra tricks up its sleeve. It's somehow simultaneously perfect for drinking on a tropical beach or in a Boston dive bar in the dead of winter. It's not hard to see why it became so popular here. It's the how that is a bit more convoluted. If you're curious, read on.

History: I could just tell you what is known about the history of the Periodista, but I would be doing you a disservice. Because if you're at all interested in craft cocktails, the people who make them, and the stories behind them, you should read Devin Hahn's Periodista Tales.

Briefly, Devin Hahn is a writer and filmmaker who lives in Boston. He also enjoys a good craft cocktail. In particular, he became a fan of the Periodista after having one at Chez Henri, a now-shuttered French-Cuban restaurant in Cambridge, in 2007. The menu there indicated that the cocktail originated in Cuba, and was a favorite of Ernest Hemingway. An instant fan, Hahn began ordering Periodistas at bars all over Boston, and bartenders were happy to make him one. This was, in fact, right around the same time that I made my pilgrimage to Eastern Standard and learned about the drink myself. It was not a hard cocktail to find.

Unless, apparently, you left Boston. When Hahn traveled out of the city, no one seemed to have even heard of Periodista. Bartenders at places like PDT in New York and The Varnish in Los Angeles had no idea what he was talking about. And Hahn couldn't find the recipe online or in any cocktail books.

So in 2010, Hahn set out on an epic quest to uncover the origins of the Periodista that he chronicled online in the Periodista Tales. It takes him to some of Boston's most beloved watering holes and introduces a cast of characters that I've come to know well as a cocktail lover in the city - people like Jackson Cannon, John Gersten, and Misty Kalkofen. And then Hahn's search expands, and he meets with luminaries like David Wondrich and Ted Haigh, who share their own stories and insights into the craft cocktail renaissance. It becomes a rumination on the craft of bartending itself, as well as a perfect example of how difficult it can be to find out the real story behind a cocktail.

The only thing wrong with it is that it seems to end prematurely. The last installment from 2011 reads like a cliffhanger. I don't know if Hahn has continued his research since, but I hope he updates us at some point.

If you're short on time and really just itching to get to the punchline (the Periodista Tales is a lengthy read), I will spoil the results of Hahn's research here. The real origin of the Periodista remains unknown, but it does seem to hail from Cuba. The earliest mention of the recipe in print that Hahn could find is from 1948, buried at the back of El Arte de Cantinera, a bartenders' manual from the Club de Cantineros de la Republica de Cuba in Havana.

The Periodista came to Boston when Paul O'Connell and Joe McGuirk were building Chez Henri's cocktail list. They found the recipe in a "little tropical cocktail book," one of those pamphlets that spirits brands used to print. Like El Arte de Cantinera, it called for white rum, but they found it far better with Myer's dark rum. It ended up on the menu. From there, McGuirk took the recipe to the B-Side Lounge, one of Boston's most (in)famous cocktail bars, where many of the greats got their start. As they left to begin their own ventures, they took the Periodista with them. And the rest, as they say, is history.

In his account, Hahn includes the Periodista recipes from many of the bars and bartenders that he interviews - a dozen in all, from the B-Side Lounge's version (which specifically calls for "generic bottom shelf" apricot liqueur and triple sec) to Drink's recipe with house-made lime peel syrup. The one that appealed to me most was Brother Cleve's recipe, which uses Appleton Estate Jamaican rum and included a bit of simple syrup to make the drink less tart. The result, in my opinion, is perfection. But if it doesn't suit your fancy, try adjusting the ratios or checking out some of the other recipes.

Periodista

1 1/2 oz. Appleton Estate aged rum (12- or 21-year recommended, I used Signature Blend)
3/4 oz. apricot liqueur (Rothman & Winter)
1/2 oz. Cointreau
1/2 oz. lime juice
1 barspoon (1/8 tsp) simple syrup

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a coupe and garnish with a lime wheel.

Recipe from Brother Cleve via Devin Hahn.

Spiced Cranberry Margarita

It's Thanksgiving! What do you have planned this year? Since we'll be in Boston far away from family (and their annual epic array of Thanksgiving casseroles) we're going to have a small dinner with a few friends. It will be our first time really hosting a Thanksgiving dinner, and I'm going to have to seriously rein in my ambitions of elaborate table settings and bountiful homemade dishes - I've got a two-month-old, after all. But we'll definitely try to tackle a few Thanksgiving classics like green bean casserole (from scratch, of course!) and stuffing.

And since my husband has dreams of cooking the turkey sous vide, that might be all we're eating. I'd better make sure there are drinks.

Since it's Thanksgiving, you've basically got to put some cranberry in your cocktails. Cranberries make a great addition to an Old Fashioned, Moscow Mule, or Julep. Not only do they add some fabulous flavor but they're also pretty gorgeous. Snag a few from your cranberry sauce recipe to add to your drinks. Or throw in the cranberry sauce itself!

Now, when you think of Thanksgiving cocktails, your first thought probably isn't "margaritas!" But I think this is a fresh and seasonally-appropriate take on an otherwise summery cocktail. Tart cranberries are honestly perfect in a margarita, and including some autumn spices and an aged tequila makes for a cocktail that would be right at home on your Thanksgiving table. Or at least perfect for pre-dinner drinks.

Spiced Cranberry Margarita

1 1/2 oz. tequila reposado
1 oz. triple sec
3/4 oz. lime juice
1/2 oz. spiced cranberry syrup*

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a rocks glass filled with ice and garnish with sugared cranberries.

*You can make the sugared cranberry garnish and the spiced cranberry syrup together. Combine 1/4 cup water and 1/4 cup sugar and simmer to dissolve the sugar. Remove from the heat and stir in 1/2 cup cranberries, 1 cinnamon stick, 8 cloves, and 2 star anise. Let sit for 10 minutes. Strain, reserving both the cranberries and the syrup. Arrange half of the cranberries on parchment paper on a wire cooling rack and let sit for one hour; these will be your sugared cranberries. Return the rest of the cranberries and the spices to the pot with the syrup and muddle. Let sit for another 10-20 minutes and strain again, discarding the solids. Once an hour has passed, pour 1/4 cup sugar onto a plate and roll the remaining cranberries in it to coat.

Water Lily

One of the first things I bought for my bar was a bottle of crème de violette. I tried my first Aviation and I loved it so much that I splurged on both the crème de violette and Luxardo maraschino liqueur. The Luxardo turned out to be a brilliant purchase, and it ended up in many more cocktails. The crème de violette, on the other hand, hasn't really seen much use. So I was pretty excited to come across the Water Lily, which features it as a main ingredient.

With equal parts gin, crème de violette, Cointreau, and lemon juice, this cocktail is very sweet and tart, with flavors of orange and florals. It's reminiscent of the Aviation, but much sweeter - almost candy-flavored. But in a good way. It's surprisingly delicious.

History: The Water Lily was created by Richard Boccato at PDT in New York. According to The PDT Cocktail Book, he made it for a good friend of his whose middle name was Lily.

Water Lily

3/4 oz. gin
3/4 oz. Cointreau or triple sec
3/4 oz. crème de violette
3/4 oz. lemon juice

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice and shake until well chilled. Strain into a coupe glass. Garnish with an orange twist.

Recipe from The PDT Cocktail Book.

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.

Eveleigh Lemonade

Sometimes you can imagine exactly how a cocktail will taste just by looking at the recipe. That's how I felt with this one, and I knew it had to be good. Chamomile-infused tequila is utterly perfect with lemon and honey, yielding a refreshing twist on spiked lemonade. Since the scent and taste of chamomile usually reminds me of cold winter evenings, this makes a nice end-of-summer cocktail to help ease the way to autumn flavors.

I did find that the honey didn't mix in quite well enough, leaving the cocktail a little more sour than I would have liked. Adding more was hopeless since the drink was so cold by then, so I mixed in a tiny bit of simple syrup. What I'd recommend is using honey simple syrup (equal parts honey and water) instead of straight honey, and maybe amping up the amount to as much as 1/2 ounce. Try it and see what you like.

Also, the recipe calls for Cocci Americano, which is a white Italian aperitif wine. It is often used instead of Lillet in the Vesper Martini. Here, I did the opposite, substituting Lillet since I don't have a bottle of Cocci Americano.

History: According to this article, the Eveleigh Lemonade was invented by Dave Kupchinski, bar manager of Eveleigh in Los Angeles, for an edition of the Sporting Life sponsored by Combier. It's still on the menu at Eveleigh.

Eveleigh Lemonade

1 oz. chamomile-infused tequila*
1/2 oz. Cocci Americano (I used Lillet)
1/2 oz. triple sec
3/4 oz. lemon juice
1/4 oz. honey (or honey simple syrup to taste)

Combine all ingredients in a shaker and shake with ice until well-chilled. Strain into an old fashioned glass filled with ice. Garnish with a lemon wheel.

*For chamomile-infused tequila: Imbibe provides instructions for infusing an entire bottle of tequila, but I wasn't really planning on making that many cocktails, so I took about three ounces of tequila blanco and mixed in a small handful of chamomile and half the zest of a small lemon. I let it sit overnight, but I think more like three hours would be better. If you don't have chamomile, just use a chamomile tea bag.

Recipe adapted from Imbibe.

Peach Margarita

Some recipes I plan to make ahead of time, but others just happen. These Peach Margaritas just happened. We were making tacos for dinner, and I thought Margaritas would go really nicely with them. Peaches are in season right now, and I've been seeing them everywhere, so I thought adding some would be a nice touch. I started with this recipe from Gimme Some Oven and simplified it by muddling the peach instead of pureeing it.

I was pretty sure these were going to taste good, but what I didn't expect was the texture. It is thick and smooth and just perfect. For a cocktail made on a whim, it is really darn good. So delicious and refreshing. I'd love to do a big batch for a party.

Peach Margarita

2 oz. tequila blanco
1 1/2 oz. lime juice
1 oz. triple sec
1/2 oz. agave nectar
1/2 peach

Slice up the half peach and place it at the bottom of a shaker. Add agave nectar and lime juice. Muddle well. Add tequila, triple sec, and ice. Shake until well-chilled. Salt the rim of a rocks glass and fill with ice. Strain the cocktail into the glass. It will be very thick and there will be lots of peach pulp, so this can be a slow process going straight from the shaker. I recommend pouring the entire cocktail out of the shaker and into a sieve over a pitcher or measuring cup, then pouring the strained cocktail into the glass. I know it's a bit messy, but don't worry - you'll thank me.

Recipe adapted from Gimme Some Oven.

Pepino's Vengeance

I used to subscribe to Bon Appetit Magazine, and on the last page of each issue they'd usually have a celebrity sketch something out on a napkin (like this one by Aziz Ansari). At some point, Justin Timberlake shared the recipe for his favorite cocktail, the Pepino (Spanish for "cucumber"). It's a mix of tequila, Cointreau, basil, pineapple juice, agave, and cucumber that was cooked up by a New York mixologist named Junior Merino. It's a good cocktail, and one I should definitely make for the blog at some point. But I don't often have pineapple juice on hand, which is how I came across this recipe for the simpler Pepino's Revenge. It was created by Lee Hefter, an executive chef at Wolfgang Puck. It omits the pineapple juice and the Cointreau, giving top billing to tequila and the fresh flavors of cucumber and basil.

One evening, my husband (henceforth "GarnishGuy") asked if I could make him a Pepino's Revenge, but I was out of basil. So I subbed in cilantro, which I thought would go even better with the lime and tequila. (I mean, is cilantro bad in anything? I'd probably eat cilantro ice cream.) We both really liked the result, which I have christened Pepino's Vengeance to distinguish it from the original version. It's citrusy and refreshing, but still very spirit-forward. A great alternative to a Margarita.

Pepino's Vengeance

4 half-inch thick slices of cucumber
Handful of cilantro
2 oz. silver tequila
1/2 oz. lime juice
1/2 oz. simple syrup

Muddle cucumber and cilantro in a shaker. Add remaining ingredients and ice. Shake until well chilled. Double strain into a rocks glass filled with ice. Garnish with a cucumber slice and cilantro leaves.

Recipe adapted from Food & Wine.

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.

Tito's Cucumber Martini

Just about everybody is going to be talking about tequila cocktails today, but I've got an alternative that still tastes appropriate for your Cinco de Mayo festivities, made with vodka.

I'm generally not really a big fan of vodka. I find it an underwhelming spirit that doesn't add much but alcohol content to cocktails. But every now and then you get a cocktail with so many great flavors in it that you almost don't want to corrupt it too much with anything but a clean, smooth vodka. I think that's what Tito's had in mind when they developed this cocktail.

Most vodka drinkers I know agree that Tito's Vodka is a spectacular quality for the price, so I happily made it my vodka of choice. This recipe is right off their website, and it's a favorite of mine. Calling it a "cucumber martini" isn't inaccurate, but it kind of misses the best things about this drink. While the cucumber in this recipe is great, it's the cilantro and the green Tabasco that really make it. You could serve a perfectly good cucumber martini with just the vodka, lemon juice, simple syrup, and muddled cucumber, but the cilantro adds depth and the Tabasco sauce this hint of savor and spice that move this concoction out of the realm of "perfectly good" and into surprisingly sophisticated territory.

One instruction that is important in this cocktail and in most others that involve muddling anything: double-strain. You're still going to get lots of little pieces of cucumber and cilantro through the shaker, and you don't want those floating around in the finished product. You should also double strain if, like me, you tend to get citrus pulp in your lime and lemon juice.

Speaking of lemon juice, the original recipe for this cocktail violated GarnishGirl's First Rule of Mixology (never have more simple syrup than citrus juice in a cocktail), so I reduced the sweetener to make it more to my taste.

Tito's Cucumber Martini

2 oz. Tito's vodka

3/4 oz. lemon juice

3/4 oz. simple syrup

3 slices cucumber (plus one for garnish)

Handful of fresh cilantro

3 drops green Tabasco sauce

Muddle cucumber and cilantro in a shaker. Add vodka, lemon juice, simple syrup, and ice. Shake until well chilled. Double-strain into a cocktail glass. Add three drops of Tabasco on top.

Recipe adapted from Tito's Handmade Vodka.

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.

Margarita

A real margarita is a lot simpler than I thought. I knew that the frozen concoctions I've ordered at Mexican restaurants were not exactly authentic (though boy are they good), but I had no idea just how bare-bones the original cocktail was. Tequila, lime, triple sec. That's it. Add some simple syrup if it's too sour for you, salt the rim if you want. But a margarita is pretty basic. And delicious. Like its cousins, the Gimlet and the Daiquiri, the Margarita is a great way to enjoy its spotlight spirit, tequila. It's also like a blank canvas - thus the many variations you see. I can't wait to try a few.

History: If you begin to research the history of the Margarita, the first thing that becomes abundantly clear is that no one knows the history of the Margarita. Like other cocktails that follow the formula of alcohol + lime juice + sweetener, it may have been thought up a number of times. But here are the many possibilities for the recipe we now all know and love:

1. The Texas Socialite. The first mention of the Margarita in print was in 1953 in Esquire magazine. The magazine credits Margaret "Margarita" Sames, a Dallas socialite, with inventing the cocktail for a party in 1948 that was attended by a number of influential hoteliers and restraunteurs. But most cocktail historians seem to think it originates much earlier, most prominently because of a Jose Cuervo ad in 1945 that mentioned the drink.

2. The Allergic Actress. A fellow named Carlos "Danny" Herrera claimed credit for inventing the cocktail at his restaurant outside of Tijuana, Rancho la Gloria, in 1938. He whipped it up it for a dancer and aspiring actress named Marjorie King who wanted a cocktail but was allergic to all types of alcohol other than tequila (if your bullshit radar is going off, it probably should be). Regardless of what Miss King's allergies were, Herrera is enough of a contender that his 1992 obituary claimed he invented the drink.

3. The Ambassador's Daughter. A bartender named Don Carlos Orozco was working at Hussong's Cantina in Esenada, Mexico in 1941 when the daughter of the German ambassador, Margarita Henkel, came in to ask for a cocktail. Don Carlos had been experimenting with some recipes, and when she enjoyed his concoction, he named it "Margarita" after her.

4. The Mexican Milkman. Mexican bartender Francisco "Pancho" Morales may have invented the Margarita in Juarez at Tommy's Place Bar in 1942. Morales later immigrated to the United States, where he worked as a milkman for 25 years.

5. Rita Hayworth at the Race Track. Two different possibilities trace the Margarita back to Danny Negrete, who worked at the Agua Caliente Race Track in Tijuana. He may have invented the Margarita in 1936 as a wedding present for his new sister-in-law, whose name was (can you guess?) Margarita. Or he may have named it for Rita Hayworth (Rita being short for Margarita), who performed at the track in the 1930's.

6. The Absentminded Irishman. There appears to be an entire category of cocktails that I need to get to know: a "Daisy" is essentially a spirit + citrus + sweetener + club soda. Back in the 30's, they were made with gin, rum, brandy, basically anything - except tequila. The story goes that a new cocktail was invented when an Iowa newspaper editor, James Graham, and his wife went to Tijuana on vacation. They were in a bar run by an Irishman named Madden who was known for serving Daisies. The word "tequila" is unfortunately never mentioned in the story, but it is Mexico, and Madden confessed to Graham that he invented the drink in question when he grabbed the wrong bottle off the shelf. If you stretch your imagination to believe the wrong bottle was tequila, then the Tequila Daisy becomes the predecessor of the Margarita - margarita is the Spanish word for "daisy." It's surprising to me that the Graham's hometown of Moville, Iowa could possibly be the Margarita's gateway to America, but this one comes from David Wondrich, so I'm inclined to believe. In 1936, the Syracuse Herald ran a recipe for a Tequila Daisy, and the evolution of the Margarita may have proceeded from there, whether or not Madden was involved.

There you have it; the many origin stories of the Margarita. And that's still not all; I haven't even investigated where the idea of salting the rim of the glass came from, or the what is the origin of the iconic, upside-down sombrero-shaped margarita glass. Questions for another time. But now when someone asks you where the Margarita came from, you can say - with certainty - "I have no idea."

Margarita

2 oz. tequila
1 oz. Cointreau or triple sec
3/4 oz. lime juice
1/2 oz. simple syrup, if desired.

Combine ingredients in a shaker. Add ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a rocks glass filled with ice, a cocktail glass, or a margarita glass. If salt is desired, first rub the edge of the glass with a wedge of lime and invert it into a plate of coarse salt to coat the rim. Garnish with a wedge of lime. Toast to Margarita, whoever she is.

Recipe adapted from Vintage Cocktails.