Showing posts with label pisco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pisco. Show all posts

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Celebrating the Aloha Spirit with Pisco Sours


Sharing Pisco Sours on a rainy November night in Pāhoa, on Hawai‘i.

We just spent a week on the Big Island of Hawaii, soaking up the local flavors of its largest city, Hilo, with our friends Matthew and Danny. They own a farmhouse (it’s gorgeous and rentable) in the one-road-in-one-road-out town of Pahoa, just south of Hilo, where lava and alterna-hippie-anything-goes attitude flow freely. The region beckons you with extremeness: 99.99 inches of annual rainfall, in-your-face lush tropical foliage and the smells from ripening fruit, black sand beaches from past volcanic activity, and the glow from Kilauea’s hot maw rising like the proverbial Phoenix, reminding us that life is ever-changing and full of new beginnings.


Channeling the Aloha Spirit, courtesy of Paul on the bongos, and Danny cranking up Don Ho.

Matthew and Danny love to cook and mentioning the word cocktail to them brought instant smiles. You see, they were eager to open their pristine bottle of pisco puro they recently brought back with them from another extreme land, Peru. Deciding on what to make was easy. We would indulge in the classic Pisco Sour.

But, first a word about pisco. Simply put, it’s a grape brandy, usually made from a single variety of grapes, that has been aged for a minimum of three months in vessels that cannot alter its chemical properties (glass and stainless steel work very well to accommodate these stipulations). Some other piscos, called acholado (half-breed) are distilled from the must of several varieties of grapes. Still delicious, but different. (We make a Pisco and Tonic using an acholado that is a must-try.)

While Danny and Steve were out looking for a bottle of Angostura bitters in the torrential (we do not use this word lightly) downpour, Matthew and Paul couldn’t wait and cracked open the bottle. The smell was light, almost of sweet hay, and the flavor, exceptionally smooth, tasting of light acidic fruit. Matthew readied the blender and Paul chose the eggs (fresh from our friends’ backyard chickens) allowing them to come to room temperature before the other guys returned with the Grail. A note to our readers: You cannot make a successful Pisco Sour without the addition of bitters (some may disagree, but believe us when we say it adds needed depth). If it means scouring every corner store in your locale, then by all means gas up your car, make sure the stores are open, and go get it!


Matthew and Danny’s farmhouse, in Pāhoa.

Making a Pisco Sour can be a little messy, we’re not going to lie, because of the addition of egg white in the mix. Getting egg whites ultra-frothy can be likened to exercising with a shake-weight. If you don’t have a blender, you’ll definitely improve your triceps. But just follow our simple recipe below, and you’ll eventually get the hang of it (we’re assuming you’re going to fall head over slippahs for the Pisco Sour, with its slightly sweet, slightly tart smoothness flowing over your tongue, so you’ll be getting lot of practice).

When the drinks were blended and poured into some cute vintage rooster glasses (Matthew and Danny are the proud owners of two loud cocks), we raised a toast to friendship, took our first sips, and licked the barm from our lips and mustaches. Ahh, so satisfying. A few sips later, as we were enshrouded by the white noise of rain pelting the fertile earth, we raised our glasses again and spoke of new beginnings.


Pisco Sour
(adapted by Cocktail Buzz)

Serves 2

Ingredients
5 ounces pisco (try a puro)
1 1/2 ounces lime juice (you can use lemon juice as well, or a combination of both)
1 ounce rich simple syrup*
egg white from 1 large egg
8 ice cubes
Amargo Chuncho (traditional) or Angostura (widely available) bitters

* In a sauce pan over low heat, dissolve 1 cup sugar (preferably demerara or turbinado) in 1 cup water, stirring occasionally until all crystals have dissolved. Let cool and transfer to a clean, airtight container. May be kept in refrigerator for up to a month.

Method
In a Boston shaker (do not use a shaker with a removable strainer, as it will allow gas to build up and force the top to separate from the main vessel) add the pisco, juice, simple syrup, and egg white and shake vigorously for about a minute until the mixture gets slightly frothy. Then fill with ice and shake again vigorously for another minute. Strain into glasses. Add bitters drop by drop (four makes for a tasty pisco sour).

Alternatively, for a frothier drink, add the egg white to a blender and mix until foamy. Then add ice, and crush until it breaks up well. Then add the pisco, juice, and syrup and blend until smooth (or as smooth as you can get it—not all blenders are made equally). You will have a lot of froth. Pour into glasses and add bitters drop by drop. Drag a toothpick through the drops to create pretty patterns.


Come to think of it, the garden salads that Danny is famous for went well with the Pisco Sours. The addition of avocado added creaminess.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Pouring Micrococktails with Templeton Rye, D.H. Krahn Gin, and Campo de Encanto Pisco at Fermented Grapes


A few weeks ago we poured some micrococktails at Fermented Grapes, our local wine and liquor shop, to give our neighbors some spirituous succor. Debbie, Jan, and the gang there never steer us wrong when we’re looking for something luscious to pair with our dinner, so we love returning the favor. Many folks braved the sweltering Saturday heat to taste three of our favorite spirits, two vermouths, and some bitters. The results were surprising.

Our arsenal of spirits await pouring and micromixing at Fermented Grapes in Brooklyn.

ONE OF OUR FAVORITE light London-style gins, DH Krahn, would be the focus of our first tasting, so we opted for martinis. Martinis used to be exclusively gin, with a generous helping of dry vermouth, and a dash or two of orange bitters. We stuck with this tried and true formula and made believers out of those sippers who feared the power of gin. For an extra kick, we added a drop of cocktail onion juice to the martini to create a Gibson. DH Krahn gin is perfect for a Gibson when mixed with Noilly Prat dry vermouth, and a dash of Bitter Truth orange bitters. This gin boasts a light juniper infusion, plus notes of coriander, ginger, and the oils from oranges, lemons, and grapefruit. What we love also about DH Krahn is its versatility. It can easily fit the bill for London-style gin drinks, or lighter-style cocktails. Exquisite.

Gibson
(adapted by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
2 ounces (1/4 cup or 4 tablespoons) gin (try DH Krahn)
1/3 ounce (1 teaspoon) dry vermouth
1–2 dashes orange bitters (try Bitter Truth)
cocktail onion, as garnish

Method
Stir for 30 seconds in ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Add onion.

Martini
(adapted by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
2 ounces (1/4 cup or 4 tablespoons) gin
1/3 – 1/2 ounce (1 teaspoon – 1/2 tablespoon) dry vermouth (do not skimp on the vermouth; this is not a vodka martini ;)
2 dashes orange bitters (try The Bitter Truth)
olive or lemon twist, as garnish

Method
Stir in ice for 30 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with an olive or lemon twist.

❤ ❤ ❤

MANHATTANS are our love-affair cocktail, so we were happy to make some wee ones for our neighbors. Since we were pouring Templeton Rye, our new fave, we employed the Templeton Rye’s official Manhattan Cocktail recipe ratio (it makes for a revivifying summer Manhattan), which we’ve posted before, except we used Dolin Sweet Vermouth and The Bitter Truth Aromatic Bitters. Delicious. No surprises here. The whiskey tipplers who took the plunge loved the smoothness of the Templeton Rye and the way the bitters and the vermouth brought out the spiciness inherent in the rye. At 40% abv, this rye goes down smoothly, but not until you’ve gotten a whiff of its light caramel redolence. Perfection.

Manhattan

Ingredients
2 ounces (1/4 cup or 4 tablespoons) rye
1 ounce (1/8 cup or 2 tablespoons) sweet vermouth (try Dolin Rouge)
2 dashes bitters

Method
Stir in ice for 15 seconds and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a maraschino or booze-soaked cherry.

Templeton Rye Manhattan
(recipe from the men of Templeton Rye)

Ingredients
2 ounces (1/4 cup or 4 tablespoons) Templeton Rye
3/4 ounce (1 1/2 tablespoons) Carpano Antica sweet vermouth
2 dashes Angostura aromatic bitters (we also like The Bitter Truth Aromatic Bitters)

Method
Serve stirred, never shaken. Kiss with cherry.

(You can decide for yourself whether you want it up, or on the rocks.)

❤ ❤ ❤

THE BIGGEST SURPRISE of the pouring turned out be the Campo de Encanto Pisco, which is an acholado pisco, or rather a mix of four different pisco varietals. For those of you who have never had pisco, it a brandy distilled from fermented grapes. It is light, slightly fruity, but not sweet, closer to a pear eau de vie than a cognac. We decided to mix it with some run-of-the-mill tonic water, fortified by a dash of Bitter Truth orange bitters. Eyes lit up after sipping. “I could drink these all day long” seemed to be the constant refrain. That made us happy, and we decided that the Pisco and Tonic would be the official late-summer drink at Chez Cocktail Buzz.

Pisco and Tonic
(created by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
2 ounces (1/4 cup or 4 tablespoons) pisco (try Campo de Encanto)
4 ounces (1/2 cup or 8 tablespoons) tonic water
dash orange bitters (optional) (try The Bitter Truth)
ice

Method
In a highball or collins glass filled with ice, add pisco (and bitters) and stir for 15 seconds. Top with tonic. You can add a lime wedge if you so desire.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Mayahuel: Where Food and Cocktails Pair Like Magic

Winner of the 2010 Tales of the Cocktail World’s Best New Cocktail Bar.

If you are a regular reader, you know we like cocktail and food pairings. Preferably small bites, as big plates of food are usually too cumbersome to match with all the disparate flavors, alcohol level, and acid inherent in any given cocktail.

Arachnophobes need not fear the spider chandelier that presides over the East Village bar and restaurant Mayahuel, where the spirit of the Aztec goddess graces every sip and nibble. [photo from Mayahuel Web site]

Mayahuel, a bar and restaurant in Manhattan’s East Village, serves small plates that pair remarkably well with the agave-based cocktails on its extensive drink menu. The smells coming out of the kitchen are redolent with the aromas of Mexico, Oaxacan, and a single bite will confirm what your nose already knows: this isn’t your ordinary bar food. In creative chef Luis Gonzalez’s hands, bold combinations of traditional herbs, spices, and all kinds of peppers combine with new techniques and surprising, revelatory combinations of flavor, all making you want a Margarita, or something akin. Master bartender and shaman of flavor, Philip Ward, is there to help. Phil opened Mayahuel (named the Aztec goddess of the maguey plant [agave spp.]) to proclaim his passion for Mexican cuisine and the highly prized spirits tequila, mezcal, and sotol (a Chihuahuan agave spirit). The menu also boasts an array of sherry and beer cocktails, if that’s where the spirits of ancient Mexico lead you. There’s something for everyone.

Recently, we visited Phil and the gang for a simple happy-hour pairing of cocktails and small plates, in the dining room located on the second floor of Mayahuel. A huge chandelier in the guise of a techno spider hovers over the room not in a menacing, but a carnival-like way. High banquets upholstered with abraded leather adorn the corners of the room offering both style and comfort. But what’s so cool about the dining room is the skylight, underneath the spider, that allows you to peer down at the bartenders carefully crafting your just-ordered cocktail. Steve had a Kurling Cocktail made by the illustrious Katie Stipes, who, when challenged to create a cocktail with cedra, a grappa-based liqueur made from the peel of the cedro lemon, came up with this smooth beauty, balancing sweet and sour by adding three spirits (pisco, blanco tequila, mezcal), a generous pour of white vermouth, and some spicy yellow chartreuse; Paul sipped on a Nicosia, a complex, smoky blend of mezcal, Cyprus Commandaria (a dessert wine), and Amaro Lucano (a less bitter amaro that is extremely popular in Italy).

Kurling Cocktail
(created by Katie Stipes, Mayahuel)

Ingredients
1 ounce Barsol Pisco
1/2 ounce El Tesoro Blanco Tequila
1/2 ounce San Luis del Rio Mezcal
3/4 ounce Dolin Blanc Vermouth (white vermouth)
1/4 ounce Yellow Chartreuse
1/4 ounce Acqua di Cedro (lemon liqueur)

Method
Stir in ice and strain into a chilled glass.

Both cocktails opened up our palates for the food we were about to receive, and we both shouted “Amen” after eating just the tortilla chips that accompanied three fresh and tantalizing salsas: one tomatoey, served warm, with a blast of chipotle (smoked jalapeños) and onions; a hot salsa verde; and one of the creamiest guacamoles ever to grace our gullets. A shrimp and black bean quesadilla fulfilled our seafood and bean craving, but the chorizo croquettes that Phil surprised us with made us realize that standard bland croquettes have no place in this cuisine. Using chorizo in this appetizer, with its strong pimentón flavor, was a revelation, one we hope to imitate at home.

Another thing to note about Mayahuel, besides its friendly staff and creative chefs, is the space itself. There’s a quiet area as you walk in that’s separated from the general din of the main bar. If you like to sit at the bar, which we love to do, you will be entertained by the men and women behind the stick making your drinks to perfection. There are several stools in various alcoves, and small tables to round out the first floor, and of course the main dining room on the second tier. Summer’s a perfect time to visit Mayahuel to nosh on some drinks and eats using fresh produce (the air conditioning will keep you cool as you decide on your second drink), but be warned: it fills up quickly. Best to go early to be guaranteed a seat.