French Maid

I've been on a ginger beer kick lately. One ginger beer cocktail tends to lead to another, especially when you buy it in a large bottle or six-pack. Loathe to let a mixer go to waste, I was flipping through The PDT Cocktail Book and came across the French Maid. I was a bit skeptical about mixing my nice Cognac with a can of Goslings, but I'm glad I did. Herbal and sweet with a hint of spice, this cocktail is delicious and incredibly refreshing. There's something beautiful about the way the flavors work together. I think you need the Cognac to really make it perfect. You could certainly use whiskey or rum and probably still make a darn good drink, but it wouldn't have the delicate sophistication of the French Maid.

I think this is the first cocktail I've written about that uses Velvet Falernum (pronounced fah-LEHR-num, if you were wondering). This is a spiced syrup that is most often used in Caribbean-style cocktails and tiki drinks. It has flavors of almond, citrus, cloves, and other spices. The taste is fairly subtle, especially when mixed with other ingredients, but it really adds an extra depth of flavor to a cocktail. Interestingly, you can buy alcoholic or non-alcoholic versions. The non-alcoholic sort is basically a flavored syrup. Fee Brothers makes one that should be pretty easy to find. But the variety I see used most often is John D. Taylor's Velvet Falernum. It's basically a very low-proof rum infused with sugar and spices, made in Barbados.

History: Jim Meehan created this cocktail in 2008. It's based on the Kentucky Maid, which uses bourbon and foregoes the Falernum.

French Maid

1.5 oz. Cognac
3/4 oz. lime juice
1/2 oz. simple syrup
1/4 oz. Velvet Falernum
1 oz. ginger beer
4 cucumber slices, 1 reserved for garnish
4-6 mint leaves, plus a sprig for garnish

Muddle cucumber, mint, and simple syrup in the bottom of a shaker. Add Cognac, lime juice, Velvet Falernum, and ice. Shake until chilled. Strain into a rocks glass filled with ice. Top with ginger beer and stir gently. Garnish with a cucumber slice and a sprig of mint.

Recipe adapted from The PDT Cocktail Book.

Gin-Campari Old Fashioned

I'm not crazy about the name of this cocktail. I guess it is technically an Old Fashioned: spirits, sugar, and bitters. But it's so different from the typical Old Fashioned that a unique name wouldn't have gone amiss.

A friend of mine made this cocktail for me after looking for something with gin and Campari to please a Negroni skeptic. It was a perfect choice, as he had also recently bought a bottle of GrandTen's Wire Works Gin and wanted us to taste it. This gin-forward cocktail did a great job of showing it off. One sip and I was converted; the fact that it's made locally in Boston only helped. I've almost gone through an entire bottle since.

The Gin-Campari Old Fashioned is a bit unusual. You begin by muddling a slice of lemon zest with simple syrup, Campari, grapefruit bitters, and salt. Yes, salt - the first time I've seen it used outside of a Margarita rim, but it's just a pinch and it works. Add your gin and ice, stir, and enjoy. The flavor is sweet and bitter citrus. It's a perfect summertime aperitif, and a great warm-weather substitute for an Old Fashioned. It will definitely be influenced by what gin you choose, so give it a try with your favorite.

History: The Gin-Campari Old Fashioned was created by Dave Kwiatkowski at The Sugar House in Detroit.

Gin-Campari Old Fashioned

2 oz. gin
1 tsp. Campari
1 tsp. demerara simple syrup (I used regular)
3 dashes grapefruit bitters
1 scant pinch fine sea salt
1 long strip lemon zest

In an Old Fashioned glass, muddle lemon zest with Campari, simple syrup, grapefruit bitters, and sea salt. Add one or two large pieces of ice and gin. Stir well.

Recipe from Food & Wine.

Coal Miner's Daughter

Full disclosure: I chose this recipe for the lavender garnish. I'm not ashamed to admit it. It's just so pretty. Lately I've really been appreciating how much a fragrant herb garnish can do for a cocktail, and I was eager to find out what lavender would do for this one. And honestly? I think it's pretty transformative. The base of this cocktail - bourbon, honey, and lemon - is basically a Gold Rush. The ginger syrup adds a bit of spice and extra citrus, but it's that whiff of sweet, floral lavender that makes the Coal Miner's Daughter something special.

Incidentally, lavender is something I am not growing on my balcony, so I snatched some from a neighbor's front yard. I know, I know. But they have tons of it. Maybe I should go back over there and offer them a cocktail?

I made this recipe last week, while Food52 was having an Instagram contest for cold cocktails, so I snapped a photo and tagged it. It didn't get much attention at the time, but yesterday they included it in a roundup of 10 photos from the contest! Since I'm still pretty new to this whole cocktail photography thing, I was quite flattered.

History: The Coal Miner's Daughter was invented by Derrick Bass for Willie Jane in Los Angeles. This article talks about Bass' cocktail menu, and made me want to fly to Los Angeles just for a drink.

Coal Miner's Daughter

1 1/2 oz. bourbon
3/4 oz. lemon juice
3/4 oz. honey
1 tsp. ginger simple syrup*
1 sprig lavender

Combine all ingredients except lavender in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled. Strain into an old fashioned glass with one large ice cube. Garnish with a sprig of lavender. Congratulations, you've struck gold.

*For ginger simple syrup, peel and slice a 1-inch piece of fresh ginger and simmer it in equal parts water and sugar for 10-15 minutes. Let cool and strain. It looks like the original recipe may have used macerated ginger, which is a little more complicated. This site has a recipe if you want to try it out.

Recipe from Liquor.com.

Bottle Buy: Pimm's No. 1

Pimm's No. 1 is a very British liqueur. I think I first learned of it from a friend who spent time in London, and everyone I've met since who has been there fondly considers Pimm's a cultural mainstay of the UK. By the time I visited myself, it wasn't all that surprising to see it on menus, because these days it's not hard to find a Pimm's Cup in American bars.

Pimm's is a gin-based liqueur infused with botanicals and spices, and it has a long history. Its inventor was James Tee Pimm, a theologist-turned-shellfish-monger who opened an oyster bar in London in 1823. He quickly became a successful restauranteur. He invented Pimm's as a health tonic and/or a cocktail to accompany his oysters - I've heard both. It was a huge success, and Pimm began bottling and selling it all over the British Empire. He expanded from there, creating the No. 2 Cup (a Scotch base), the No. 3 Cup (a brandy base), and so on up all the way to No. 6 (vodka). Only No. 1 survives, though Pimm's has released versions of the others as special seasonal bottles.

Pimm's will admittedly not be the most versatile thing on your bar, but it's a fun ingredient to experiment with. It does pop up in craft cocktail recipes every now and then. It's the main ingredient in one of my favorite cocktails, the Battle of Trafalgar, which I'll share the recipe for soon.

Pimm's No. 1

Price: $25

Alcohol content: 25%

Popular cocktails: Pimm's Cup

The Pimm's Cup is the quintissential Pimm's cocktail, and there are many variations.  In England, it's made with sparkling lemonade, which is not very common in the United States, so here it's often made with ginger ale or lemon-lime soda. Often those are the only two ingredients, and it may be garnished with just a single cucumber wheel. But the true British version includes cucumber and a variety of fresh fruits. The Pimm's website recommends mint, orange, strawberries, and cucumber. I usually like to follow the most original and authentic recipe, but when I saw this one on Bon Appetit I couldn't pass it up. If nothing else, it was an excuse to use not one, not two, but three of the herbs from my patio garden, and ginger beer seems like a fine alternative for sparkling lemonade. If you're lacking one or two ingredients, it's ok - it is an awful lot of stuff - but the scent of the herbs as you take each sip is what elevates the flavor of this cocktail. It's an amazingly refreshing summer drink, and a particularly good cocktail for guests before a barbecue or dinner outdoors.

History: So far, I can't really separate the origin of the Pimm's Cup cocktail from the origin of Pimm's itself. Did James Tee Pimm serve his liqueur with sparkling lemonade and fruit? Or did that come about later on? I'll keep trying to figure it out. But the liqueur itself is inextricably associated with this one cocktail. Even the names are difficult to tell apart.

The Pimm's Cup is the iconic drink for summer sporting events in England, including Wimbledon and the Henley Royal Regatta. It has also, somewhat surprisingly, become associated with New Orleans, and particularly the Napoleon House bar. Sometime in the 1940's, its proprietor decided that the Pimm's Cup would be an excellent cocktail to serve in the southern heat. And he was right.

Pimm's Cup

3 1/2 inch slices cucumber
3 oz. Pimm's No. 1
1 1/2 tbsp. lemon juice
1/4 tsp. simple syrup
3-4 oz. ginger beer
1 sprig mint
1 sprig thyme
1 sprig rosemary
1 lemon slice
1 cucumber spear
2 strawberries, halved

Muddle cucumbers in a shaker. Add Pimm's, lemon juice, and simple syrup. Fill shaker with ice and shake until chilled. Strain into a Pilsner glass filled with ice. Fill glass with ginger beer and stir gently. Push lemon, strawberries, cucumber, and herbs into glass. Cheers.

Recipe adapted from Bon Appetit.

Mojito

Is there any cocktail as positively refreshing as a Mojito? It's so perfect for a hot summer afternoon. Of course, after I made these, the sky darkened like the apocalypse was beginning and golfball-sized hail began to fall from the sky. I was luckily dry and safe inside, but the Mojito felt a bit incongruous. At least if I had run out of ice, there was plenty collecting on my balcony.

I really developed a taste for Mojitos when some friends of mine made it a tradition to serve them whenever they had a party. They'd either mix up a big batch or just leave the tools and ingredients out along with their recipe. I liked that because I got to find out just how they made them, and I've used their recipe ever since. I've got tons of mint growing on my balcony, and Mojitos seem like a great way to make use of it. Especially when hailstones are pre-muddling it for me.

History: The Mojito was born in Cuba. As with many classic cocktails, there are many possible stories to explain its origin, and the best one is probably not true, but it involves pirates and dysentery, so I have to tell it anyway. In 1586, during the Anglo-Spanish War, Sir Francis Drake captured the Spanish city of Cartagena de Indias in present-day Colombia for the English. His men occupied the city for two months before sailing on towards Havana. On the way, they were stricken with dysentery and scurvy. They had heard that the indigenous tribes of the region had remedies for such sicknesses, so some of the crew went ashore on Cuba to ask the local people for help. They returned with, well, Mojitos: lime, sugarcane juice, mint, and a spirit made from sugarcane called aguardiente de cana. And, sure enough, it helped. It was probably just the lime juice that really did anything, but the rest of the cocktail couldn't have hurt. The drink spread throughout Cuba and beyond, known as El Draque after Drake. Interestingly, Drake is referred to as a pirate by the Spanish and a knight by the English - at first I thought I was confusing two different men.

Another version of this story claims that after Drake's invasion of Havana failed, the El Draque was invented in his honor by one of his crew members, Richard Drake. Richard was a former member of Parliament and possibly a distant relative of Francis. I feel like this version of the story needs more details; I just imagine Francis moping in his cabin, staring at a crumpled map of Cuba, when Richard bursts in and brightly exclaims "I made cocktails!"

         "Bummer about Havana. Wanna go invade Florida?"                                      "Not now, dude, I just made Mojitos."

Whether or not Francis and Richard actually got their drink on in Havana, Cubans probably were making something similar to a Mojito around this time, particularly workers and farmers. Early rum didn't taste all that good, and mint, lime, and sugarcane juice were amply available mixers to improve its flavor. The aguardiente de cana was replaced by Bacardi rum in the 1800's, and somebody threw some seltzer in there as well. But it was probably around the time of Prohibition that the Mojito left the realm of rural moonshine and entered the bars and restaurants of Havana. The first reference to the entire recipe comes from a pamphlet of cocktail recipes from Sloppy Joe's Bar in Havana from 1931.

As for the name "Mojito," no one is certain when it got changed or even what it means. It may refer to mojo, a lime seasoning used in Cuba, or it may be a diminutization of the word mojado, meaning wet. I've also heard that it comes from an African word, mojo, meaning "to place a little spell," but that doesn't seem very well supported. Which is a shame, because that's just what a Mojito does.

Mojito

2 oz. white rum
1 half lime, quartered
8-10 mint leaves
3/4 oz. simple syrup or 1 1/2 tbsp. sugar
1/3 cup club soda (2.5-3 oz.)

Put lime quarters, mint leaves, and simple syrup in the bottom of a rocks glass. Muddle well, until mint is bruised and limes are juiced. Add rum. Fill glass with ice and top with club soda. Stir briefly. Garnish with a sprig of mint.

White Bean Hummus

Yes, I have a food recipe for you today, but don't worry - if you were dying for a cocktail, there's a slew of positively awesome recipes over at Feu de Vie's Mixology Monday roundup. I was pretty bummed not to have time to participate in this one (I had that pesky thesis to write), because the theme was Ice, Ice Baby. The idea was to create a cocktail that features a particular usage of ice, and the results are super creative. I particularly want to try the Coconaut Flaming Re-Entry from Nihil Utopia, because it sounds delicious and you get to light it on fire. Pete at Meticulous Mixing also discusses the secret to perfectly clear ice, something I eventually want to try to achieve. Check it out!

In the meantime, I hope you're hungry, because I've got a great a snack recipe for you: white bean hummus. I've always thought hummus was just "ok," but that was before I tried the homemade kind. My husband grew up next door to a woman from Cyprus who makes amazing Greek food, and her hummus positively blew me away. I asked her for the recipe, but she said there wasn't one. Instead, she had me over and showed me how to make it. I took careful notes. But when I tried to make it myself, it wasn't quite the same. I couldn't get it as creamy as hers. I always ended up with hard chunks of chickpea. Maybe I need a better food processor, or softer chickpeas.

Or maybe another bean entirely? I recently wondered if white beans might be more conducive to smooth, creamy hummus. And it turns out the answer is yes. This white bean hummus is everything I could have hoped for, and I didn't even use any tahini. It's easy and quick, and pretty healthy. I'm not usually crazy about counting calories (obviously, given how many cocktails I drink), but it was easy to do the math on this one: 1/4 of of the recipe is about 250 calories (most of that is olive oil). Plus whatever you choose to dip in it, of course. I sprayed a skillet with a little olive oil and heated a couple of flour tortillas until they turned brown. Once they cool they get nice and crunchy. But I also love it with cucumber slices.

White Bean Hummus

1 15.5 oz. can white beans/cannellini
1 clove garlic
1/3 cup olive oil
3 tbsp. lemon juice
salt and pepper, to taste

Combine all ingredients in a food processor and pulse until very smooth. Taste and adjust garlic, lemon juice, or spices as needed. Transfer to a bowl and top with paprika, pepper, or another spice and chopped fresh parsley. Serve with veggies or flatbread for dipping.

Recipe adapted from Giada De Laurentiis.

#42

When we first bought our apartment, one of the things I was the most excited about was the balcony. After living in a place with no natural light where every plant I tried to cultivate withered and died, I couldn't wait to grow some herbs and veggies outside. The first warm weekend of the spring, I went out and bought all kinds of herbs and seeds. It started reasonably enough: five little pots of herbs and a rectangular planter of tomato seedlings. When nothing died, I transplanted the herbs into bigger pots and planted some more seeds. Those sprouted, and my tomatoes made fruit. So I added zucchini, eggplant, and some more herbs.

Now I basically have a jungle on my balcony. It has definitely gotten out of hand. Buying pots got expensive, so I started swiping plastic pots out of neighbors' trash cans. It literally takes gallons to water everything. I may have a problem. But I love going right outside for fresh herbs, and it's so exciting seeing new veggies appear. Next year I might try building some planter boxes so the jumble of pots isn't so chaotic.

When I participated in my first Mixology Monday, I invented a cocktail I called the Perfect 10 that included Bittermen's Boston Bittahs, which have flavors of citrus and chamomile. I commented that the best garnish for the cocktail would have been chamomile flowers but, and I quote, "who has those just lying around?"

I'll tell you who: crazy potted plant lady. Days after I wrote that post, I bought some chamomile seeds, and I now have a steady supply of chamomile flowers! I made this recipe specifically for a chance to use them, but boy am I glad I tried it. It is just lovely. A basic gin martini recipe is made unforgettable by the addition of a bit of honey simple syrup and a dash of Boston Bittahs. It's just a little sweet, with beautiful notes of honey and chamomile. It's one of the best new recipes I've tried in a while.

If you don't have a bottle of Boston Bittahs, I think this could be a nice recipe to showcase other flavors as well. For example, orange bitters plus an orange twist.

History: The #42 was invented at the Hungry Mother in Cambridge, MA, which is now closed. But I think the same folks opened State Park, which is a great place.

#42

2.5 oz. gin (Greylock recommended, I used Wire Works)
1/4 oz. dry vermouth
1/4 oz. honey simple syrup*
1 dash Bittermen's Boston Bittahs

Combine ingredients in a shaker. Add ice and shake until well chilled. Strain into a coupe glass. Twist a lemon peel over the cocktail and rub along the sides. Garnish with the lemon twist or discard and garnish with chamomile flowers.

*Honey simple syrup = equal parts honey and water. Heat in a saucepan or in the microwave until honey is dissolved. Let cool before using. Store in the refrigerator.

Recipe adapted from the Hungry Mother via Bittermen's.