Splificator

That's entirely a matter of opinion--for me, this tastes just right. But then again, I'm notorious for liking drinks--Martinis, Manhattans, Old-Fashioneds, etc., etc.--with a high booze-to-filler ratio.

That's exactly what I'm talking about. Usually, the stuff with the chunks is lightly sweetened, which is hardly necessary. Goya puts out an unsweetened, chunk-free version which is my preferred choice when I can't get a green coconut (or don't want to bother with one), and there's a new Brazilian brand that comes in some kind of fancy juice pack that's pretty good, too. But the sweetened stuff is still fine, although I usually strain out the chunks. In any case, as you say, good and easy. And yeah, some of those other Caribbean juices are great, too. I even like the canned sugarcane juice with rum; a bit monochrome, but not half bad (especially if you add mint, lime and soda water).

A personal favorite is Rum & Coconut Water, a simple and refreshing little tipple that is consumed throughout the Caribbean (it's what that resort bartender who made you all those Bahama Mamas will probably drink on her day off). Of course, it demands green coconuts, which can be pretty hard to find, or canned coconut water, aka coconut juice (NOT coconut milk), which turns up in Asian food stores and some health-food type markets. Getting the coconut water's the hard part. The easy part is mixing the drink: simply pour 2 oz or so rum into a tall glass, add a couple of ice cubes and top off with 2-4 oz coconut water. Stir. As for the rum: I've had it with everything from 10 Cane to Angostura 1919 to Mount Gay to Wray & Nepher White Overproof. In general, an amber rum, not too woody, works best. NOTE: The slightly salty, full-bodied nuttiness of the coconut water really turns some people off, so I'd test it on them before building an evening around it. Others, however, really love it, and when it's triple-H weather nothing is more refreshing (the coco water serves as a kind of sports drink).

I'd say don't worry about the name and go for straight (or, in this case, mixed) history instead, with Fish House Punch--the house drink of a Philadelphia social club founded in, IIRC, 1732. This, or something very much like it, is what they would've been drinking that sweltering day in 1776. Plus, it's potent and very, very tasty: Fish House Punch 2 quarts dark, full-bodied rum (I generally use Gosling's) 1 quart VS-grade cognac 4 oz peach brandy (Marie Brizard makes an acceptable brand, but whatever you use, use it sparingly--it really penetrates) 1 quart lemon juice 3/4 lb (1 1/2 cups) superfine sugar 2 quarts water In a large bowl, first dissolve the sugar in enough of the water to do the trick, then incorporate the lemon juice. Next, add the spirits and the rest of the water—or as much of it as you wish to contribute (less in summer, to allow for meltage). Slip in as large a block of ice as you can procure (use your imagination—if worst comes to worst, a mixing bowl full of water and frozen overnight will do the trick; run a little hot water on the outside of the bowl to unmold). Let it stand in a cool place for an hour or so before serving. Do not garnish with fruit, herb, vegetable or paper umbrella.

This is an excellent point. We're usually talking about the difference between a $12-$15 bottle and a $15-$20 bottle. There are exceptions, to be sure, usually in the realms of imported liqueurs, brandies and tequilas. Some of these--e.g., Cointreau--are very difficult to substitute for; for the others--cognacs, 100% agave tequilas--with careful shopping and well stocked liquor stores you can usually get something in the $25 range. This translates to less than $2 a drink. Seeing as a standard cheap brand of French brandy or mixto tequila clocks in at something like $15-$18 a bottle, the difference in cost is something like $.50 a drink between an okay drink and a really good one.

I'm with Doc on this one--the jiggers are cheap, easy to use and you don't have to pay exact attention to how much you're pouring--just fill it up and in it goes. The three sizes I use are 1/2 oz-1 oz, 3/4 oz-1 1/2 oz and 1 oz-2 oz. Between these it's quite easy to come up with just about any quantity you need. Plus it's a good way to bone up on your fractions. You can get the jiggers at www.servu-online.com.

Ah. Picking up on that "30 year old single malt Scotch," I misconstrued this as an argument about $300 booze versus $30 booze, rather than one about $30 booze versus $10 booze. To the rule "you should use your inexpensive liquor for mixing but drink your expensive liquor straight" I like to add the corollary, "never mix a drink with anything you can't choke down straight." As with all rules, I'll occasionally break it, for the likes of big pitchers of Early Times sours, Pitu caipirinhas, etc. But in general, I'll try to avoid the very cheapest brands and buy something that has a reputation to maintain. In general, if it comes in a plastic bottle, it can stay there. On the other hand, again, I think there's no need in most cases to go with so-called superpremium spirits. As long as what I'm using is well made and properly displays the generic markers of the category (e.g., I want my blended Scotch to have a little peat and some barley-malt sweetness), I'm satisfied. I don't need single-barrel bottlings and wooden presentation boxes and suchlike.

This is certainly an elegant theory, but I strongly suspect the real origins for this old rule of thumb can be traced to that well-known radix mali, money. A mixed drink made with top-shelf spirit will certainly be delightful, but will it be so much more delightful that it will be worth the extra cost? Not too long ago, I obtained a bottle of Hennessy Paradis, a lovely tipple that retails for around $250 a bottle. In the interests of science, I mixed up a Sidecar with it, using one of those fabulous Grand Marnier anniversary bottlings in place of the Cointreau (it retailed for some $180, IIRC). Cost of cognac @ ca. $10 an oz: $20. Cost of Grand Marnier @ ca. $7.50 an oz: $7.50. Cost of lemon juice: $.35. Total cost of Sidecar (excluding labor and overhead): $27.85. Was it delicious? Sure. Was it three times more delicious than one made with a nice $90 XO-grade cognac (@ ca. $3.75 an oz) and regular, $35 Cointreau (@ ca. $1.50 an oz)? Hell, no. A little more complex, perhaps, what with the greater hints of rancio and whatnot, but after the orange liqueur and the lemon had their say, not markedly so. On the other hand, that same amount of Paradis, reserved for sipping on a special occasion, will take me to places that no "ordinary" X.O. can reach. If mixographers were compensated on the same scale as pubescent entertainers, perhaps I wouldn't have to make these choices; it would be Paradis (or its equivalent) all the time. But alas they're not, and I must prioritize. So I think it's not whether the booze can handle it, so much as whether your wallet can.

I just heard from the fabulous LeNell Smothers, of LeNell's in Red Hook (that's in Brooklyn, too) that they have the Rittenhouse, too. It's a definite trend, at least here on the right bank.

Back in the day, there used to be two styles of rye: Maryland and Monongahela. From what I can gather, the Maryland style was grassier, lighter and more piquant, while the Monongahela (Pennsylvania) style was darker and fuller in flavor. This is borne out by the examples of each still available in this decayed modern age. Heaven Hill, for example, still makes both styles: the Rittenhouse (an old Pennsylvania brand) is a perfect example of the Monongahela style, while their Pikesville Supreme (you thought Rittenhouse was hard to find!) is a Maryland style (I once bought a bottle of it from an 11-year-old boy for 11 bucks at 11:00 on a Sunday morning--the quintessential Baltimore experience). Unfortunately, the Pikesville is bottled at 80 proof, which makes it taste watery (as does the 80-proff Rittenhouse bottling). That same defect, in my opinion, plagues both of Beam's offerings, the Pennsylvania-style Old Overholt and the Maryland-style Beam yellow label. I think at heart these are both potentially great whiskies, but that potential will only be realized if they're left to age a couple more years and bottled at around 100 proof. I've been after Beam to issue a small-batch Overholt for years, but every time I elicit some interest the person interested retires or moves to another job. It's a shame, because Old Overholt was always a premium brand of whiskey (as far as I know, at 195 years it's also the oldest continually-maintained brand of whiskey in America). The 1930s bottling that Ted Haigh once made me a memorable Old-Fashioned from was 100 proof and 6 years old--just like the Rittenhouse, to which it bore a close resemblance. I'm very fond of the Wild Turkey rye, which is a wilder and rougher affair than the Rittenhouse, but for that reason makes my favorite Manhattan--it can stand up to vermouth and bitters and still display a little bite.

I just purchased a bottle of this elixir from the lovely folks at Smith & Vine, at 246 Smith St. here in Brooklyn (718-243-2864); the've got 3 cases in stock. For those of you who don't know this stuff, it's 100 proof, 6 years old, and absolutely perfect for Sazeracs and Old-Fashioneds and suchlike, but it's also smooth and rich enough for sipping. And cheap, cheap, cheap. In other words, run, don't walk.

Kurt-- I'm tempted to down tools and head for the airport right now! If only. I'll be up in Wisconsin sooner or later, though, and you will be hearing from me. I'll even have my CC Perfect Man on the Rocks--just as long as it's a big one. --DW

I switched to Demerara or turbinado syrup after a trip to Trinidad, where white sugar was hard to find. All it took was a couple rounds of cocktails and I was convinced. I like the depth and mellowness of flavor raw sugar adds. It's a background thing, though; very subtle. Like Sam, I'll use white sugar in a clear drink when I care about how it looks, but otherwise it's the dark stuff all the way (I will use this in a Holland Gin Cocktail, because I prefer the flavor). I like a 2:1 ratio as opposed to a 1:1 because you can use the thicker stuff pretty much interchangably in quantity with granulated sugar and there's less unnecessary water added to the drink (I call this "rich simple syrup" because I don't know what else to call it). To prevent mold forming, I'll tip in about half an ounce of 151 Demerara rum or grain alcohol per 750-ml bottle. Works like a charm. I've been experimenting with syrups made from other sugars over the past couple of years. I particularly like what happens when you melt piloncillo, the Central/South American loaf sugar. It's very funky stuff--hard as a rock, and a pain in the neck to melt, but it's got a really rustic, sugarcane taste that I really like in rum punches and similar things (sometimes I find bits of cane fiber floating in the syrup when I melt it, and there's always a bit of sediment at the bottom of the pan). I also like syrup made from jaggery, Indian palm sugar. Very fruity and sweet, if unfilterably cloudy. And I agree about the agave nectar. Interesting stuff. Honey syrup works nicely in Scotch sours. And Sam--that's a hell of a Tombstone! (I make mine with a mere 2 oz whiskey.)

Two bars in one house--now that's living. Jeez, I'm tempted to pull up stakes and head for the land of cheese. I had heard about the Brandy O.F. business, but never understood its true pervasiveness. It definitely speaks to the innate conservatism and good sense of the populace. Back in the 19th century, when gentlemen knew their tipple, a Brandy Cocktail was just about the most popular drink going. And what's in that? Brandy, bitters, sugar, ice, lemon peel. In other words, a Brandy Old-Fashioned, without the "garbage" (the fruit bits). So good for Wisconsin! (Traditionally, a Brandy Cocktail with a spash of champagne is called a Chicago Cocktail--that's somewhere in the neighborhood, anyway.) About the Brandy Man on the Rocks, whose presence I had never suspected, I'm less sangine. Brandy--fine. On the rocks--not for me. JAZ-- Glad you liked the Saicar; it's a good one to play stump your friends with, I think. And thanks, Ed! At least there are a few rum drinks in KC, although in my next such effort I'll have to include your killer Ti Punch. --DW

Thanks, Doc! Oddly enough (well, not so oddly at all, come to think of it), I've been prescribing Vintage Spirits & Forgotten Cocktails to those who want to go further into the deep and mystical heart of the mixological experience. Maybe they should be a boxed set. Along with a shaker, some jiggers, a barspoon and a Pre-Prohibition pint of Old Pebble Ford bourbon. On another note, what is it with Wisconsin? For the last week, I've been on a "radio book tour," a very cheap version of the traditional book tour that involves radio stations from here and there calling me on the phone and me sitting there in my bunny slippers talking about what's my favorite cocktail--"Well, I like a nice Old-Fashioned" "But my dad used to drink those!" "Then your dad knew what he was doing--in this case, anyway" etc. (all dialogue guaranteed verbatim)--and whatnot. But of some 20 interviews, four of them have been in Wisconsin. That's a statistical anomaly there. What gives? Why does Wisconsin care so much about cocktails? Anyone have a theory? --DW

You dog! I'm completely out of the essential ingredient. This does not help my disposition. Envy is a hell of a thing.

The Zuidam is not bad--nice body, good, malty flavor, but I get a bit too much vanilla in it, which sorta dominates. Some may like that, though. Go for the jonge/young; the others are more for sipping. Good luck, --DW

The Boomsma oude I have; it has no perceptible juniper in it and seems to me like a cross between Irish whiskey and vodka--a light, slightly malty and very clean distillate that has a few interesting cocktail uses. The jonge I have not tried but would right now give my eyeteeth (whatever they are) for a bottle of. I'm assuming it's malty and junipery, as all the other (few) jonge genevers I've had are. If so, pounce! So says me, anyway--but then again, I've become addicted to Holland Gin Old-Fashioneds, IMHO one of the greatest drinks going. Let's hope Boomsma can pick up the slack where Bols left off. --DW Historical footnote. In the nineteenth century, Holland or genever gin was imported at a ratio of 5 or 6 gallons to every gallon of English gin. This makes perfect sense: in the days before the dominance of the dry Martini, when gin was drunk in slings, simple punches (think Collinses) or cocktails (the original kind, with bitters and sugar), the mellow, malty roundness of the "Hollands," as it was known, was preferable to the steely sharpness of a London dry gin, or even an Old Tom, which stood somewhere between the two styles.

Truly, truly a shame, isn't it? Perhaps not compared to some things, in the larger scheme of existence, but it's little losses like this that add up and add up and next thing you know your civilization's in decline and barbarians are running everything (hmmmm). When the Romans could no longer get laser, their favorite North African spice, I'm sure they felt the same way--and they were right. I have found that Damrak, an international-style gin made by Bols, preserves enough of the genever's characteristics to make an acceptable substitute. Thanks again for the kind words! --DW

Now that this book is officially available, at least from Amazon, etc, I'll take this opportunity to convey my heartfelt thanks to Sam and Audrey for their kind words. Coming from such thoughtful and dedicated--dare I say fanatic--mixologists, they mean a lot. For those who have read my Esquire Drinks, this book has fewer jokes and rules and more mixology tips. The focus is more on actually mixing drinks and less on cocktail history and culture (I'm saving all that stuff for my next project; watch this space). That said, it has its share of historic drinks, and there are nuggets of drink trivia scattered throughout. And there are pictures. Thanks, DW

Entirely my bad. I aimed at cheeky and hit offensive. Thoughtless and stupid. As for Moutai, etc. The stuff I was playing around with is the one in Ned's picture (and, I belive, Audrey's description). I also had some bamboo-leaf chiu, the rose-petal chiu and a few other things. By olfactory evidence, they all rely on the jiuqu, the moldy rice cakes, for fermentation (and no, Tsingtao beer doesn't use them, but as Jason points out, it's essentially a Western product--just like soy sauce made here in the USA is essentially an Asian product). My point about these wasn't that they're not yeast: they do indeed contain yeast. But they also contain molds (often in carefully cultivated and selected strains), something which the Western distilling tradition rigorously excludes. I'm not going to go along with Audrey and say that this moutai and the other stuff I was trying are the foulest things I've ever tasted (that dubious honor is shared by Thai centipede wine and this thing I had recently in London that had the nerve to call itself an Old-Fashioned). Some of them appeared to be quite carefully made and well aged. But the "cellar taste" or "soy bouquet" (as I've seen it called) is pervasive and, like stinky cheese, it's a taste that has to be acquired. I didn't acquire it, but then again I only spent a week or two working on the article. I did try everything more than once, some much more. As for WoBuDiJao's point about sipping liquors versus mixing liquors, most Western sipping liquors do in fact make perfectly delicious--if very expensive--cocktails. A partial exception is a peaty single-malt Scotch. Again, smoke and mold are pervasive flavors that come through the still unmolested, and the smokiness of a peaty Scotch can be difficult to accommodate in a cocktail. More research needed here, clearly. --DW

A year and a half back or so I did a piece for Esquire on this topic. I went to the best-stocked Chinese liquor store here in new York (it's on Elizabeth St; I can't recall the name offhand) and bought an armful of different things and tried to make cocktails with them. I was very cocky about this--how hard can it be, right? You take the high-proof moutai (sorghum liquor), cut it with the low-proof xiaoshing (rice wine) and you've got a Chinese Martini, no? No. It turned out to be extremely difficult to come up with a palatable drink, at least by my standards and those of my guinea p--friends. Most Chinese drinks, it turns out, use little cakes of fermented and mouldy rice to start fermentation, and as Dave Pickerell (the guy who makes Maker's Mark) once told me, the only things you can't get rid of by careful distilling are a burnt taste or a moldy one. This gives all the various strong wines, liquors and herbal liqueurs a kind of damp-basement taste that woulf take a good deal of acquiring. Anyway, to make a long story short, after much tinkering and many pulled faces, I finally managed to come up with three drinks that were pretty good; one, which I call "The East Is Pink," was even quite good, IMHO. Have I made it again, though? Nope. Here are the recipes: The East is Pink Stir well with cracked ice: 2 oz Mei Kuei Lu Chiew (=“Rose dew liquor”—basically, Moutai with rose petals) 3 dashes Peychaud’s Bitters 2 dashes Fee’s Orange Bitters 1/2 teaspoon lemon juice 1/2 teaspoon simple syrup Strain into chilled cocktail glass and squeeze a twist of thin-cut lemon peel over the top. No. 1 Son Shake well with cracked ice: 3 oz Hua Tiao Chiew (=dry xiaoshing, or strong rice wine) 1/2 oz lemon juice 1/2 oz Monin orgeat (or other almond syrup) 1 oz canned sugarcane juice 3 dashes Angostura bitters. Pour unstrained into tall glass and spear with a straw. Long March Shake well with cracked ice: 2 oz cognac (ok, I cheated a little here) 1/2 oz Sze Chuan Dah Poo Chiew (=ten-herb liqueur; sort of a Chinese Bénédictine) 1/2 oz fresh-squeezed orange juice Strain into chilled cocktail glass that has had its rim wet with orange juice and dipped in superfine sugar.

I think this really comes down to how you define doing a better job. Vodka will disappear into the bacground of a drink and allow the other flavors to play among themselves, as it were. Your drink will essentially taste like the sum of the other ingredient(s) and no more. This is great if you want, say, vibrant fruit flavors. Gin, on the other hand, makes its presence known, although not necessarily as the dominant ingredient (it depends of course on the level of botanicals in the gin itself, the assertiveness of the other ingredients and the proportions in which they are included). The drink will never have that simple clarity of a vodka drink. Hopefully, though, it will have something more, a blending of flavors which transcends the original ingredients. A proper gin Martini, for instance, tastes neither of gin nor of vermouth, but of Martini; a proper vodka Martini (assuming for the sake of argument that such a thing exists) tastes of ice and coldness with a whiff of vermouth. And by the way, there are plenty of old drinks that call for gin and rum, or gin and Scotch. Not all of them are good, to be sure, but some of them are. Usually, they'll use gin as a supporting spirit, an accent. Worth playing around with. I'll post a couple of examples when I get a chance. --DW

More like Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill, no? --DW

Would anyone out there happen to have contact information for the nice folks at Excelsior Imports? I need to secure a bottle of this stuff for an article and they are proving elusive. Tx, DW