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Cocktails that get better near the end


TAPrice

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Last night I stopped in at a local restaurant called Patois for a drink. The bartender convinced me to try their variation on an Obituary Cocktail (at least I believe it was an original variation). They poured a little black sambuca into a cocktail glass (perhaps 1/2 ounce? the bartender eyeballed it). Then she shook some gin with ice and layered it on top.

Visually, it was striking. The taste was even more interesting. The sambuca, even as it sat on the bottom of the glass, gave the gin a subtle anise flavor, which only intensified as I drank more. Once I got to the bottom, I basically had a shot of dark sambuca.

Most drinks seem to get worse near the end. Either they get warm, or if they're on the rocks they get watery. This was one of the few drink I've had that actually change flavor and became more intense near the end. It was a great effect.

Are there any other drinks that change flavor or become more intense as you drink them?

Todd A. Price aka "TAPrice"

Homepage and writings; A Frolic of My Own (personal blog)

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That's why I alway put 2 ice cubes in bourbon. The water from the melting ice makes a perfectly blended drink at the end. But I do feel funny asking for two ice cubes in most bars...

"Degenerates. Degenerates. They'll all turn into monkeys." --Zizek on vegetarians

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Sazerac.

I think the flavor changes as the sazerac warms. Given I am usually drinking high proof sazeracs (staggerac anyone?) I find myself sipping them slowly, and the flavor I find changes as the drink warms and the individual notes of the drink are more apparent. Especially on the abstinthe (or pernod) rinse as well as the bitters notes.

John Deragon

foodblog 1 / 2

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I feel sorry for people that don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day -- Dean Martin

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I seem to recall enjoying such a drink last summer in New Orleans. One particular evening, my mind and morals already quite lubricated, I enjoyed a wee tot of St. Germain off of the lower back of a certain lady at the Monteleone.

I guarantee you, this drink certainly changed as I drank it, and it most definately got better near the end.

It's just cold booze in a glass. Drink it, dammit.
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The classic "changing cocktail" to me is the Jimmy Roosevelt. In the original, it's a gigantic drink, so I usually make it as adapted by Pegu Club: A large coupe is lightly coated with demerara syrup and a bitters-soaked sugarcube placed in the bottom. Then the glass is filled with cracked or crushed ice, then comes some cognac into the glass, then the glass is filled with champagne and Green Chartreuse drizzled on top. The drink is not deliberately layered, but there is also no deliberate mixing. Here's how I described it back in 2005:

Besides offering her own creations, Audrey's menus often feature a few contemporary cocktails created by colleagues and forgotten classics worth resurrecting.  To that end, the menu features Paul Harrington's Jasmine, Dale DeGroff's Whiskey Smash and from Charles "Doc" Baker's The Gentleman's Companion (one of the all time great cocktail books), the Jimmie Roosevelt.  This last one deserves a little extra description, for it is a most interesting libation and one that is unlikely to be familiar.  In the Pegu Club's version, a glass is rinsed with demerara simple syrup, then in goes some Cognac and an Angostura-soaked sugar cube; on top of that goes cracked ice, then a top of champagne and the whole thing drizzled with Green Chartreuse.  Since the drink isn't mixed per se, the ingredients combine in the glass according to their own whimsy (and specific gravities, no doubt), which leads to a drink that evolves greatly, making many twists and turns on the way to the bottom of the glass.  The first few sips are light, dry and effervescent; then the herbal exoticism of the Chartreuse begins to make its presence felt, lurking around the bits of cracked ice; towards the bottom of the glass the sweetness from the demerara syrup rinse and the Angostura's cinnamon come to the fore.  Meanwhile the Cognac is there throughout to tie the whole thing together.  It's like three or four drinks in one -- a must have.

--

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The classic "changing cocktail" to me is the Jimmy Roosevelt.  In the original, it's a gigantic drink, so I usually make it as adapted by Pegu Club:  A large coupe is lightly coated with demerara syrup and a bitters-soaked sugarcube placed in the bottom.  Then the glass is filled with cracked or crushed ice, then comes some cognac into the glass, then the glass is filled with champagne and Green Chartreuse drizzled on top.  The drink is not deliberately layered, but there is also no deliberate mixing.  Here's how I described it back in 2005:
Besides offering her own creations, Audrey's menus often feature a few contemporary cocktails created by colleagues and forgotten classics worth resurrecting.  To that end, the menu features Paul Harrington's Jasmine, Dale DeGroff's Whiskey Smash and from Charles "Doc" Baker's The Gentleman's Companion (one of the all time great cocktail books), the Jimmie Roosevelt.  This last one deserves a little extra description, for it is a most interesting libation and one that is unlikely to be familiar.  In the Pegu Club's version, a glass is rinsed with demerara simple syrup, then in goes some Cognac and an Angostura-soaked sugar cube; on top of that goes cracked ice, then a top of champagne and the whole thing drizzled with Green Chartreuse.  Since the drink isn't mixed per se, the ingredients combine in the glass according to their own whimsy (and specific gravities, no doubt), which leads to a drink that evolves greatly, making many twists and turns on the way to the bottom of the glass.  The first few sips are light, dry and effervescent; then the herbal exoticism of the Chartreuse begins to make its presence felt, lurking around the bits of cracked ice; towards the bottom of the glass the sweetness from the demerara syrup rinse and the Angostura's cinnamon come to the fore.  Meanwhile the Cognac is there throughout to tie the whole thing together.  It's like three or four drinks in one -- a must have.

I took note of the Jimmie Roosevelt some time back and wanted to try it but was somewhat wary of it's enormous size and profligate use of expensive (and high-proof!) ingredients. This adaptation looks far more manageable. Would you say the Chartreuse is more or less than 1/4 oz? Seems like that much would be enough, but one can never tell, at least not before trying it.

-Andy

Andy Arrington

Journeyman Drinksmith

Twitter--@LoneStarBarman

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I was actually thinking about this last night as I was drinking an Amber Room- I found the first taste overly sweet and the St Germain too forceful, by the third sip it had all settled down rather well.

This is a fairly common experience for me, particularly with drinks that I'm not familiar with me, it takes a few sips before I start enjoying them.

Given that the drink had been thoroughly mixed in this instance , this is presumably something to do with my perception of the drink changing during the first few sips rather than the drink itself changing.

On Friday I tried a 1707 at Fortnum and Mason, this certainly changed as I drank it, once I drank my way through the chatreuse float it got progressivly less interesting.

gethin

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I took note of the Jimmie Roosevelt some time back and wanted to try it but was somewhat wary of it's enormous size and profligate use of expensive (and high-proof!) ingredients. This adaptation looks far more manageable. Would you say the Chartreuse is more or less than 1/4 oz? Seems like that much would be enough, but one can never tell, at least not before trying it.

Here's Doc's original text:

CHAMPAGNE COCKTAIL No. II, which with Modestly Downcast Lash We Admit Is an Origination of Our Own, & Which We Christened the "Jimmie Roosevelt"

Last spring we had the pleasure of turning our house into an oasis, between planes, for Colonel Jimmie Roosevelt and Grant Mason of the Civil Aeronautics Commission. . . [etc.]

Fill a big 16 ounce thin crystal goblet with finely cracked ice.  In the diametrical center of this frosty mass went a lump of sugar well saturated with Angostura, then 2 jiggers of good French cognac, then fill the glass with chilled champagne, finally floating on very carefully 2 tbsp of genuine green Chartreuse.

If you figure the drink is being cut into half, that would mean an 8 ounce glass, 2 ounces of cognac and a half-ounce of Chartreuse. If you further reduce the drink to, say, a 6 ounce glass, you'd have 1.5 ounces of cognac and 1/3 ounce of Chartreuse. In practice, if I am recalling correctly, the bartenders I know simply drizzled over a few passes of the Chartreuse bottle.

--

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I took note of the Jimmie Roosevelt some time back and wanted to try it but was somewhat wary of it's enormous size and profligate use of expensive (and high-proof!) ingredients. This adaptation looks far more manageable. Would you say the Chartreuse is more or less than 1/4 oz? Seems like that much would be enough, but one can never tell, at least not before trying it.

Here's Doc's original text:

CHAMPAGNE COCKTAIL No. II, which with Modestly Downcast Lash We Admit Is an Origination of Our Own, & Which We Christened the "Jimmie Roosevelt"

Last spring we had the pleasure of turning our house into an oasis, between planes, for Colonel Jimmie Roosevelt and Grant Mason of the Civil Aeronautics Commission. . . [etc.]

Fill a big 16 ounce thin crystal goblet with finely cracked ice.  In the diametrical center of this frosty mass went a lump of sugar well saturated with Angostura, then 2 jiggers of good French cognac, then fill the glass with chilled champagne, finally floating on very carefully 2 tbsp of genuine green Chartreuse.

If you figure the drink is being cut into half, that would mean an 8 ounce glass, 2 ounces of cognac and a half-ounce of Chartreuse. If you further reduce the drink to, say, a 6 ounce glass, you'd have 1.5 ounces of cognac and 1/3 ounce of Chartreuse. In practice, if I am recalling correctly, the bartenders I know simply drizzled over a few passes of the Chartreuse bottle.

A small correction: Baker's jigger is 1.5 ounces so that's the amount of cognac needed for Sam's half-size J. Roosevelt.

As the cocktail geek that I am I just happen to have started re-reading Baker a few days ago and, coincidentally, just yesterday I happened to read the Jimmie Roosevelt recipe and was compelled to search the book for Baker's definition of "jigger". I don't have the book handy but somewhere towards the back of the book there's a short chart that defines "jigger", "pony", etc.

Kurt

“I like to keep a bottle of stimulant handy in case I see a snake--which I also keep handy.” ~W.C. Fields

The Handy Snake

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I'm usually in the Craddock "Drink it while it's laughing at you" crowd, but I agree with the Sazerac and Manhattan points above. I think that a lot of non-sour rye or bourbon-based drinks get interesting later in the game, particularly if there's a significant bitters component. (To me, sours flatten out.)

Due to the relative heft of sweeter ingredients, some layered drinks sweeten up over time, which many drinkers enjoy. I made this variation of a Golden Dawn, moving from the orange juice that I can't abide toward a more traditional sour with lemon, Cointreau, and bitters, and called it a Maize Morning:

3/4 Applejack

3/4 Plymouth gin

3/4 Apry

1/2 Cointreau

1/2 lemon

Regan's orange bitters

1 t grenadine

Shake all but the grenadine, strain, and pour the grenadine into the base of the drink carefully to create the sunrise effect.

It's a pretty potent drink and on the large side for a classic cocktail, so for the lighter drinkers, the grenadine resting on the bottom at the end is a nice finish. Over time, it also starts cold and warms up, like, you know, day break. If you go for that sort of metaphor.

Chris Amirault

eG Ethics Signatory

Sir Luscious got gator belts and patty melts

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I've heard more than one cachaca importer tell me they like the changing nature of (traditional, raw sugar) caipirinhas as the sugar collects on the bottom of the glass. Personally I'm not a fan of a mouthful of sugar at the end of a drink, but just thought I'd throw that out there.

Camper English, Alcademics.com

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