Lavender Cocktails for Any Time of Day

Lavender imparts a one-of-a-kind taste sensation to cocktails, like the Bloody Lavender, above.

Got the winter blues? Here’s an exercise that may help. Imagine a field of lavender in bloom. Waves and waves of delicate purple buds, clustered atop frosted green leaves. You hear the wind gently rustle the leaves. Inhale and you can catch a whiff of its sweet, clean redolence. Nothing else in the world smells quite like it.

Or tastes quite like it, for that matter. When used in appropriate amounts, and mixed with just the right partner, lavender takes on a flavor that’s gently warming, filling your palate with a roundness that should remind you of a confection dissolving in your mouth. It should not taste soapy. If it does, you’ve either used too much in your recipe, or your taste buds just won’t tolerate the flavor, and never will. We’d like to think your aversion, if you have one, stems from the former. You want lavender to taste mildly floral and sweet, never harsh or bitter.

Grow lavender in the summer, when it’s in season, or, if you have good light, indoors throughout the year. Use the dried leaves and buds as you would any herb. During nongrowing seasons, you can find lavender buds in spice jars at higher-end grocery stores and specialty shops. If you don’t see it at your grocery store, and you don’t feel like traipsing across town, ask your vendor to stock it.

We use lavender in many expressions, especially in infusions and syrups. Infusing vodka or reposado tequila with lavender allows you to be extra-creative at your home bar, and using lavender-infused simple syrup can bring all the ingredients of a drink together for that special one-of-a-kind flavor. If you’re lucky, you may find artisinal lavender syrup at your purveyor of exotic foods. If so, buy some to see how you like it compared to the stuff you’re about to make.

Lavender-Infused Vodka*

Ingredients
1 750ml bottle vodka
3 tablespoons dried lavender buds or leaves

Method
In an airtight container, add vodka and lavender. (Rinse bottle and set aside, making sure not to throw away the cap.) Let infuse for up to 5 days, shaking it up every day and tasting it to see if it’s done enough for your taste buds. It should not taste too concentrated. Strain, through cheesecloth, back into original bottle and label “lavender vodka.”

* You can use another neutral spirit, such as unflavored moonshine, but if you really want to wake up your palate, the inherent depth and spiciness of reposado tequila pairs beautifully with lavender. Just substitute the same amount.

Lavender Simple Syrup

Ingredients
1 cup water
1 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup dried lavender buds or leaves

Method
Add water and sugar to a small saucepan. Gently crush lavender with a mortar and pestle (your fingers will do in a pinch) and add to saucepan. Simmer for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally so that sugar fully dissolves. Allow to cool for several hours, or overnight. Strain through cheesecloth into a sterile jar with a lid. May be kept in the refrigerator for up to a month.

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Now it’s time to make some cocktails. For something simple, put about a teaspoon of lavender syrup in a champagne flute, then top with about 5 ounces of champagne. That will give you an idea of how lavender flavors alcohol. It’s an elegant way to start a cocktail or dinner party. But, if you’re more adventurous, we have a few drinks we think you’ll make a permanent part of your cocktail repertoire.

Lavender Blue Dilly Dilly
(created by Cocktail Buzz)

The lavender Blue Dilly Dilly is a take on the classic Manhattan Cocktail with a flamed orange peel bringing all the flavors together.

Ingredients
2 ounces bourbon
1 scant ounce Dubonnet rouge
1 teaspoon lavender syrup
dash Angostura bitters
orange peel

Method
Stir in ice for 30 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass or coupe. Express orange peel through a match flame by holding the match over the drink and, with your other hand, in one quick, sharp squeeze, pinch the peel (outside of peel facing the match) so the oils spurt through the flame, causing a gentle flare-up. Then gently rub the outside of the peel around the rim and drop into the glass. (Feel free to try this drink on the rocks in a rocks glass.)

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Lavendel (aka Hermione Wallflower)
(created by Cocktail Buzz)

The Lavendel (German for lavender) may be the perfect brunch cocktail. It’s a riff on the classic Harvey Wallbanger.

Ingredients
1/2 ounce honey liqueur (Bärenjäger, a German honey liqueur, works perfectly here)
1 1/2 ounces lavender-infused vodka*
5 ounces fresh-squeezed tangelo juice, strained (you can use orange or tangerine juice, as well)

Method
In a highball glass, add the lavender-infused vodka and tangelo juice. Fill 2/3 with ice. Stir for 30 seconds. Float Bärenjäger Honey Liqueur on top. Add straw, if you so desire, but sipping is preferred as you will end your imbibing with a nice honey kiss.

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Bloody Lavender
(created by Cocktail Buzz)

After dinner, you may want to serve some shortbread [CLICK THE LINK FOR OUR LAVENDER SHORTBREAD RECIPE], or a cheese plate. That’s where the Bloody Lavender comes into play. The scotch rinse adds depth, as do the drops of Peychaud’s bitters that float at the top, giving the cocktail its name. If you want a Bloody Lavender before dinner, just double the recipe (except for the scotch).

Ingredients
1 ounce lavender-infused vodka
1/4–1/2 ounce Licor 43, or other vanilla liqueur
4–6 drops Peychaud’s bitters
1/4 ounce single-malt scotch

Method
Rinse a chilled cocktail glass or coupe with scotch, swirling a few times, then discarding. (There should be a small amount left at the bottom of the glass.) Stir lavender-infused vodka and vanilla liqueur in ice for 30 seconds. Strain into the glass. Add bitters one drop at a time.

photo © Steve Schul, Cocktail Buzz

Crafting the Freshest Mojito

Hemingway loved it, as well he should have. Imbibing this Cuban work of art can be a religious experience. 

If ever there was a drink that defined the first decade of the new millennium, hands down it would be the Mojito [pronounced moe-HEE-toe, but you probably already knew that]. Easily recognizable by its limey and minty redolence, the Mojito seemed to pounce on the bar scene in the early aughts as the tropical replacement to the 90’s très façonnable Cosmopolitan. A sigh of relief, really. It seemed time for the vodka-based Cosmo to lose its crown: by the end of the 90’s it had been bastardized to the point where some bartenders were just pouring unmeasured ingredients or prebatched concoctions into an ice-filled glass just to keep the cash register burping contentedly. The Mojito was a welcomed pinch hitter. Light rum, which had always been popular, was due for a resurgence in well-made drinks for the thirsty crowd. Fresh ingredients were a must. But as the decade dragged on, bartenders arms grew weary from muddling, and bar managers saw how long it took to make one. Those life-changing Mojitos you used to imbibe at reputable drinking establishments morphed into sugar-bomb low-rent sludge-fests. We all remember being bewitched by our first, superbly crafted Mojito. It’s high time to return to those flavors, guaranteed by proper muddling with fresh ingredients.

Because we love Mojitos, we’ve been playing around with ratios of ingredients and interpretations of methods for several years. As a result, we never published a recipe. We knew it was the right time to do so when our friend Matt Schepis texted in disbelief. “I looked on your Recipe Index for a Mojito and it wasn’t there.” Sorry, Schepis. We assured him not to worry. The recipe was on its way.

When we make Mojitos with our friends Theo and Curt, we always seem to talk about how widely varying Mojitos can be from bar to bar, party to party, and Theo decries this wide gap that separates a great Mojito—the one that changed your life—from a horrible one. We assured him that ours would be the one to bring back good memories.

Mojito
(adapted by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
2 ounces light rum
1/2 lime
1 tablespoon sugar

10 mint leaves

mint sprigs, for garnish
soda

ice, preferably crushed or cracked*

Method
Cut lime into wedges. Add mint leaves to shaker, followed by lime wedges, then sugar. Muddle until all the juice is released from the lime, which will dissolve the sugar. Add rum and ice. Shake for 15 seconds and strain into ice-filed highball glass. Top with soda. Garnish with lots of mint sprigs.

* On an exceptionally warm day, if you’re outdoors, you may wish to eschew crushed ice and use cubed ice. Dilution will be slower.

Pairing Suggestions
Guacamole and Chips

Shrimp Cocktail

Baked Coconut Shrimp
Stuffed Grilled Zucchini Bites
Chorizo Sobres

Now Is the Time to Imbibe a Daiquiri

The luminescence of a classic Daiquiri will light up your night.  

Ask anyone from the North Pole to Tierra del Fuego about the Daiquiri, and she will probably say, “I love Daiquiris. I drink them all the time.” Chances are the version she’s drinking is a frozen Daiquiri, and perhaps one with strawberry, banana, or some fruit other than just lime tossed into the blender. This is fine if you like slushy drinks. (Slushy drinks are enjoying a cocktail renaissance at the moment and, during these dog days of summer, may be just what the doctor ordered!) But we’re here to proffer a less noisy interpretation of the original Daiquiri, one that doesn’t involve worrying about having enough ice in the freezer, or a blender that is sturdy enough to grind it to fine crystals; one that goes back to its roots as one of “six basic cocktails” according to David A. Embury is his seminal mid-20th-century classic The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks.

In his recipe, he mixes two ounces of rum with a half ounce of lime juice, and a quarter ounce of simple syrup, making the finished product a little tart to the uninitiated. No offense to Mr. Embury and his mandate for imbibing pre-prandial drinks on the drier side, but the palate has changed thanks to the disco era’s swirl of cavity-inducing cocktails, and as a result, we crave drinks a little sweeter. But don’t worry, we only use a tablespoon of sugar per drink, which is double the amount Mr. Embury decrees. (And if you wish to keep with tradition and invoke his recipe to the letter, by all means do. It is your drink, after all, and we won’t mind one iota.)

What we discovered when trying to come up with the perfect recipe for the Daiquiri, one that would work with a variety of party food, isn’t really the amount of sugar or light rum in the drink, but the quality of the lime. Pick the freshest one you can find, one so fresh that, when you cut it in half, the oils from the peel mix with the pulpy juice and instantly hit your nose with the smell of its fresh limy essence. After you toss some wedges into a mixing glass along with the white sugar crystals and muddle the heck out of the pair, you will be left with the most delicious juice possible. The oils are released from the sugar crystals abrading the lime peel, and they dissolve in the chartreuse-colored juice.

But what about the strangely spelled name daiquiri? Where does it come from? A little Web-sleuthing reveals that the name derives from Daiquirí (die-key-REE), a beach and an iron mine in Santiago, Cuba, where it was putatively invented by American mining engineer Jennings Cox, who happened to be in Cuba at the time of the Spanish-American War. As the twentieth century progressed, and relations with Latin American countries, such as Cuba, prospered, rum consumption grew, and the Daiquiri, as well as all things Latin American, spiked in popularity.

Although perfect for any time of year, summer feels rather appropriate for a Daiquiri. The commingling of juice and oil from the limes lends itself to rather remarkable food pairings, especially Guacamole with Chips, and Shrimp Cocktail. ¡Salud!

Daiquiri

(adapted by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
2 ounces light rum
1/2 lime
1/2–1 tablespoon sugar (depending on how sweet you like them)

Method
Cut the lime into wedges and add to a shaker. Sprinkle sugar on top. Muddle vigorously, extracting all the juice from the lime, allowing the sugar to dissolve. Add rum and ice. Shake for 15 seconds and strain (or double-strain if you do not want any tiny stray bits of lime pulp – although, if serving with party food, the little lime pulp bits may add flavor nuances) into a chilled cocktail glass or coupe.

Pairing Suggestions
Guacamole and Chips
Shrimp Cocktail

photo © Steve Schul, Cocktail Buzz

Pomegranates Make Easter Cocktailing a Joy: PAMA Nog

This light and fruity nog, made with three pomegranate expressions, will make your Easter celebrations an affair to remember. And because of its low-alcohol content, you can have two (or three).

Pomegranates ten years ago were exotic to most Westerners, especially to us East Coasters. Sure, we’d seen those burnished red orbs piled up in a produce-section crate at the grocery store, their crown-shaped nipples beckoning us to get a little closer, but by sheer ignorance we shuttered our eyes to their beauty. We just didn’t know what to do with them except make a mess with the arils, those pip-like seeds coated with the sweet juice that gives the pomegranate its distinct enchanting flavor.


The arils, pips, or seeds of the pomegranate (call them what you will) are the paragons of contrast: sweet and soft on the outside, hard and slightly bitter on the inside. Nibbling them can become an addiction.

Mythologically, the pomegranate, which originated in Iran, has bewitched many a soul, the most famous being Persephone, the Goddess of the Underworld in Greek tales. Poor Persephone. Abducted by Hades, god of the Underworld, she was forced to take a seat by his throne whilst he lorded over the dead. Her mom, Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, was thrown into a deep depression, so deep, as a result, winter enveloped all with its bitter chill. All vegetation shriveled up, and nothing new grew. Well, this didn’t sit well with Zeus, king of the Gods, so he ordered Hades to return Persephone to terra firma so that the shrubs and trees and flowers could once again bloom. But Hades, being devilish and cunning, tricked Persephone into eating six pomegranate seeds, so that she would be forced to stay—you see, the Fates had decreed that anyone who imbibed anything while they were roaming the dark and gloomy caverns of the Underworld were doomed to live eternity there. Six seeds were hardly enough to merit eternal damnation, so it was decided that six months a year would suffice. And during those six months, Demeter’s mourning chills the Earth, forcing the greenery into early retirement.

How dreary. And you thought pomegranates were life-affirming because of all the hullabaloo about its antioxidant properties.



But after six months of bitterness and cold, hope springs eternal. Yes, spring, the season of renewal and life, returns with the release of Persephone from Hades’s corpsy clutches. And what better symbol to promote this renewal than the egg. Going way back in Teutonic Mythology, the egg symbolized, you guessed it, renewal. Ēostre, the Goddess of spring, represented by the egg and the rabbit (yes, the bunny represents fecundity, so we get the Easter Bunny from her too), lent her name to the holiday. So eggs and Easter somehow become intertwined forever, as lovers united in a common vision of resurrection. Easter + eggs. The two words fit so well together, we can’t imagine an Easter without them. And after a gloomy winter, the more decorated these eggs are, the better.

Which brings us to the drink. We’ll call it PAMA Nog (we get nothing promoting the brand, it just sounds good). Look at the photo: It’s like a wee present, dappled in little jeweled seeds, life’s beginnings. These little ruby eggs of sweet and bitter, floating atop a cloud of pomegranate–blueberry juice laced with a hearty dose of PAMA pomegranate-flavored liqueur, when we bite into you and take a sip of your smooth and creamy essence, we become one with all mythologies that hand down their circle-of-life fables to the generations; we are cradled by their stories. (It’s that good.)

So what we’re trying to say is Steve’s drink, PAMA Nog, is a celebration of this life-cycle, and what better holiday than Easter to fete the renewal of life. In Christian mythology, Jesus rises from the dead after a nasty run-in with the Roman authorities, and it is on Easter that Christians commemorate this event — much like the Ancient Greeks would pay homage to Persephone, and the Northern Europeans would honor Ēostre — in song, dance, parades, dramas, and special holidays.

We just chose to add some liquor to our medium. But you will find the whole egg in there — yolk and white separated at first, then reunited in bibulous bliss. Mmm. Happy Lip-Smacking Easter.

PAMA Nog
(created by Steve Schul, Cocktail Buzz)

Serves 2.

Ingredients
2 ounces PAMA Pomegranate Liqueur
1 egg, divided (yolk and white separated)
5 teaspoons sugar, divided (4/1)
1/2 cup skim milk
1/4 cup pomegranate–blueberry juice (or just pomegranate juice)
nutmeg, freshly ground
pomegranate seeds, as garnish

Method
In a bowl, beat the egg yolk and 4 teaspoons of sugar with a mixer until it lightens in color and sugar is dissolved. Add PAMA Pomegranate Liqueur, milk, pomegranate-blueberry juice, and stir to combine.

Place the egg white and the 1 additional teaspoon of sugar in a bowl and beat with mixer until soft peaks form. Whisk the egg whites into the mixture. Chill. Whisk before serving. Divide between two glasses and garnish with pomegranate seeds and freshly ground nutmeg. Enjoy.

Hot and Cold Irish Whiskey Drink Recipes for St. Patrick’s Day, After Hours

Celebrating St. Patrick’s Day doesn’t always have to begin at the crack of dawn. An Irish Coffee may be the perfect way to end a meal with family and friends.

The Tale of Rosie and Her Dad’s Irish Coffee

It’s not often we imbibe postprandial drinks — we usually limit ourselves to one when we’re cocktailing it at home, so that always means pre-dinner — but last night was special because our neighbor, the fabulously talented Burlesque performer Rosie 151, stopped by our test kitchen to help us whip up some Irish Coffees just in time for St. Patrick’s Day. Rosie shared with us her Dad’s family recipe, and lovingly limned each step as Paul went through the motions of replicating Dad’s most revered concoction.

A side note about Irish Coffee: It was most likely invented in the 40’s by one Joe Sheridan, a chef in County Limerick who added some Irish whiskey to a group of Americans’ coffees when their flight was delayed. Not a bad way to spend those hours. We suppose that after years of perfection of this caffeinated potable, Irish Coffee eventually had to make its way stateside by someone who loved it so. This happened to be Stanton Delaplane, a travel writer who worked for the San Francisco Chronicle. On a fall evening in 1952, he brought his remembrance of the recipe to the men at the Buena Vista Cafe, and after hours of trial and tribulation, and falling all over each other in sheer energized inebriation, the Irish Coffee became an American staple.

By nature it’s a contradictory drink: On the one hand, sipping the rich dark coffee is like being injected with a shot of adrenalin; on the other hand, the spiky presence of Irish whiskey makes you feel like you’re being laced with a potent soporific. But that’s what’s so fun about this drink. You get a nice boost of energy before being tamed into submission by the distilled effects of Irish liquor. Sometimes after a hard day’s work, it’s nice to straddle between the worlds of Morpheus and Mercury.

So as Paul dutifully boiled water, whipped cream, and poured spirits, and Rosie cooed instructions, both their beaus arrived for some lusty mugsful accompanied by some light cookies. As the last dollops of cream started to reveal milky legs dripping down the coffee-whiskey mixture, we couldn’t help but raise a toast to Rosie’s dad, offering a most-deserved “thank you.” Artistry must run through the family.

Dad’s Irish Coffee
(recipe courtesy of Terry Grillo)

Ingredients
2 ounces Irish whiskey
6 ounces fresh-brewed coffee, strong
3 dollops fresh whipped cream, gloppy, not stiff
2 tablespoons, plus 1 teaspoon superfine sugar, separated (you can use regular sugar as well)
nutmeg (preferably freshly ground)

Tools and Sundries Needed
1 pint cream (we prefer heavy)
dark-roast coffee beans
kettle
large mixing bowl
electric beater, standing mixer, or strong arms
tempered-glass mugs (to see the effect of the whipped cream melting into the brew)

Method
Make sure you adjust the recipe according to the number of Irish coffees you’re making. Boil a kettle full of water (make sure you have at least 15 ounces for every Irish coffee you are making). Fill tempered-glass mugs. With the remaining water, brew your favorite unflavored coffee, such as French Roast.

Meanwhile, make whipped cream: Fill a large mixing bowl with an entire pint of cream, plus 2 tablespoons of superfine sugar. Whip until the cream is gloppy, not stiff. To test, a spoonful of whipped cream will gently plop off when tipped (not remain stuck to the spoon).

Empty the mugs and add remaining teaspoon of sugar, followed by Irish whiskey, then coffee. Stir. Top with an inch-thick layer of whipped cream. Garnish with nutmeg, to taste.

Variations
If you’re more of a traditionalist, you can substitute brown sugar for the superfine sugar added to the mug. Or, instead of adding the sugar altogether, add a half ounce of Irish Mist.

Why Stop at Dad’s Irish Coffee When There’s More To Be Drunk

And speaking of Irish Mist, that honey-and-heather laced whiskey liqueur from Dublin, we offer you another after-dinner libation. A variation on the classic Rusty Nail (which unites scotch whisky and Drambuie), the Irish Nail flaunts Irish whiskey’s natural attraction to Irish Mist, creating a smooth, honey-sweet drink that is the perfect nightcap. It’s also a further variation on a Black Nail, which uses equal parts Irish Mist and Irish whiskey, plus an orange peel for a little flavor. You may want to have an Irish Nail after a round of Dad’s Irish Coffees. Don’t forget to nibble on some shortbread while you do. They go so well together. Slàinte. (That’s Irish-Gaelic for “Cheers.”)


Use all your senses as you bring the golden glow of an Irish Nail to your lips.

Irish Nail
(adapted by Cocktail Buzz, based on a Black Nail)

Ingredients
1 1/2 ounces Irish whiskey
1/2 ounce Irish Mist (use less depending on how sweet you like your drink)
3 ice cubes
orange peel, as garnish (optional)

Method
Stir in ice for 15 seconds. Add ice cubes to rocks glass. Strain into glass.

photos © Cocktail Buzz

Three Winter Cocktails, Two Warm, One Frosty, To Get You Out of the Rut You’re Probably In

Orange, tarragon, and vanilla: these are the flavors at the fore of the cachaça-based

O Sonho de Paulo.

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by these extraordinary cocktails.

Okay. We can’t attribute this entire quotation to Shakespeare; but our amendment to the opening of “Richard III” suggests that when the winter doldrums have gotten you down, some fine tippling of superb drinks can bring the warmth of summer back into your life. We hear you say this winter hasn’t been such a bad one. That may be true for our neck of the woods, but as our planet shifts meteorologically into uncharted territory on a global level, we can feel safe and secure knowing that at least a well-crafted cocktail can calm our nerves.

So we’ll celebrate this strangeness of wintertime with three somewhat-strange cocktails, one from our hands, one from from a newish Williamsburg, Brooklyn, establishment that knows how to craft a supremely sippable wintertime drink (and some small plates of deliciousness to accompany it), and the third from a posh Midtown Manhattan restaurant mixologist.

Our first cocktail is one we came up with a few years back. We have no idea why we didn’t publish it sooner since we turn to it every time we crave some fresh-squeezed orange juice, which usually happens every winter. The cachaça in it makes it a little exotic, along with the tarragon-infused vodka, but we think that once you take the time to make this drink, you’ll keep all of its ingredients on your home bar shelf, or cabinet, or sideboard—wherever it is you allow your spirits to rest. It all comes down to the flavor. Imagine a creamsicle, but for adults only. The burnished sweetness of the cachaça and the anise flavors of tarragon mitigate the all-out vanilla yumminess of the Licor 43. An orange wheel touches your lips every time you sip and keeps the crushed ice in your glass. We call it O Sonho de Paulo, Portuguese for Paul’s Dream.

O Sonho de Paulo
(created by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
1 1/2 ounces cachaça
1/2 ounces tarragon-infused vodka*
1 ounce Licor 43 (or other vanilla liqueur)
1 ounce orange juice,

orange wheel, as garnish

Method
Shake in ice for 15 seconds. Strain into double-rocks glass or goblet filled with crushed ice. Garnish with thin orange wheel.

* Tarragon-Infused Vodka
2 cups vodka
12 tarragon sprigs

In an airtight container, add 12 tarragon sprigs for every 2 cups of vodka. Let infuse for at least three days and up to five days (the longer you wait, the stronger the anise-grassy flavor), shaking the container at least once a day. Strain into another airtight container and label.

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Where we drank and dined at Betto. A small plate concept restaurant and bar, Betto graces the hipster streets of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, with satisfying food and cocktails.

Last week we spent a night noshing on small plates and sipping well-crafted cocktails at Betto in Williamsburg with our lovely friends Tony, Jim, and Brooke. It was Tony’s birthday, and we had originally tried to get in to Fette Sau, but, lucky for us, it was overcrowded with what seemed like a Brooklyn geek pork-lovers convention mixed with some hotspot-seeking out-of-neighborhooders who caught the whiff of this popular BBQ joint. But enough of that. Let’s focus on Betto. Even though we feel that the small plates concept of dining has peeked and is now slouching towards back-lash territory, Betto seems to defy all odds and offers creative, seasonal fare, but with specials that are dinner-plate sized as well. Case in point: the pork shop slathered in a sage butter. What made chef Jason Denton’s chop so special was its level of doneness (slightly pink), and its saltiness (a little above average, to coax out the porky, sagy goodness). From the small, tapas-style plates we munched on, the roasted acorn squash with pepitas and the pillowy meatballs reigned supreme. We also could have eaten a whole bowl of the spaghetti with tomato (we had this dish separate from the meatballs for our non-mammal-eating friend), very al dente, bursting with umami savoriness.

Paul’s drink piqued everyone’s curiosity because of its ingredients and temperature: The Westburns cocktail boasted strangely both Breuckelen gin (a one-of-a-kind gin that’s a cross between a malty genever and a botanical traditional-style gin, made right here in one of the creative hubs of the universe) and Four Roses Bourbon (one of our favorites, especially the Single Barrel). But what made it unique was the hot water added once all the other ingredients (sweet vermouth, sugar, muddled orange slice and maraschino cherry) were mixed together. Imagine an old-fashioned toddy. It was love at first sip. Matt Carr, the man behind the stick who helped create this exquisite concoction, was kind enough to write out the recipe for us. Now you can enjoy it too.

The Westburns
(created by Matt Carr and Brittany Rogers, Betto)

Ingredients
1 ounce Four Roses bourbon
1 ounce Breuckelen gin (or another genever gin)
1/2 ounce Carpano Antica sweet vermouth
2 dashes Angostura bitters
2 dashes Regan’s Orange Bitters #6
1 raw sugar cube
1 orange slice
1 maraschino cherry
5 ounces hot water

Method
In a double-rocks glass, add the fruit, sugar cube, and bitters. Muddle. Add the booze and hot water. Stir and serve.

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Feel a little chill? Then make one of these Latin Lavas, hot-buttered rum at it very best. The secret: Santa Teresa 1796 aged rum.

We both recently attended another fabulous Hanna Lee Communications cocktail-and-food event at Michael’s New York, where mixologist Michael Flannery came up with the perfect hot-buttered rum drink he dubbed the Latin Lava. Made with the divine Santa Teresa 1796, from Venezuela’s oldest rum producer, this brew was considered a favorite by the cocktail cognoscenti there to support the brand, taste chef Kyung Up Lim’s take on Korean street food (yummy!!!), and see Hanna Lee tango. It was quite a spectacle. In fact, a night to remember.

The Latin Lava
(created by Michael Flannery, Michael’s New York)

Ingredients
1 1/2 ounces Santa Teresa 1796 rum
1/2 ounce Marie Brizzard anisette liqueur
1 pat housemade compound butter*
4 ounces hot cider
cinnamon stick, as garnish

Method
Add hot cider to melt a pat of butter in an Irish coffee mug. Once the butter is melted, add rum and anisette liqueur. Serve with cinnamon stick.

* We’re not sure what additions were a part of the compound butter, but warming holiday spices, such as cinnamon, seemed to be included. Check out what’s in your spice rack, and if it sounds like it would go with hot cider, then go ahead and mix it in with your butter.

O Sonho de Paulo photo by Steve Schul © Steve Schul, Cocktail Buzz; Betto photo by Noah Fecks; Latin Lava photo coutsey Hanna Lee Communications

An Old-Fashioned Dilemma

The Old-Fashioned is one of the most popular bar drinks, though recipes vary widely from bartender to bartender.

Never underestimate the power of a simple drink. The Old-Fashioned, or Old Fashioned, sans hyphen, if you wish, is one of the six basic drinks in David A. Embury’s classic The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks. At its most basic, it is a rocks drink made with nothing more than an American whiskey, such as bourbon or rye, and a sugar cube doused with bitters. Twist a lemon over it, and you’re done.

You look confused. You say you distinctly remember your last Old-Fashioned having an orange slice floating on the top of the ice, donning a neon red maraschino. Truth is, there are countless recipes for the Old-Fashioned, and everyone likes hers or his uniquely. The self-proclaimed Purists eschew all traces of fruit, and prefer their Old-Fashioneds pared down to the basics. The self-proclaimed New Purists add fruit, such as orange and cherry, but decry its muddling. Those who enjoy rococo presentations, we’ll call them the Revelers, love all the fruit muddled, and even a splash of soda on top. (This would be anathema to both Purist and New Purist.) Never has a drink inspired so much brouhaha.

We do have a standard way we enjoy our Old-Fashioneds, and probably would align ourselves with the New Purists. But we’ve got to say, in the hands of the right bartender, a fruit-free Old-Fashioned is a study in balance; contrarily, a muddled Old-Fashioned can boast layers of deep flavor. Regardless of how you like this drink, what’s probably most important to you is the ratio of whiskey to sugar. The sweeter your drink, and if with muddled fruit, the better it’s going to pair with salty and rich appetizers such as barbecued chicken on skewers, or ones that have a nice portion of grilled steak. The following is our go-to recipe for the Old-Fashioned. Normally, we use rye or bourbon, usually at a proof between 90 and 110 when we’re drinking it without an accompanying app. (Try between 80 and 90 proof when you want to pair with food.) Also, Angostura bitters is standard in our home, but we dance all over the barroom floor and have been known to use other brands of aromatic bitters, and orange bitters as well. Feel free to embellish at will. After all, getting to the bottom of how you like your Old-Fashioneds is one of life’s delightful dilemmas.

Old-Fashioned

(adapted by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
2 ounces rye or bourbon
3 dashes bitters
1 sugar cube
1 cherry, such as maraschino, marascha, or brandied
1 thin orange slice
1 lemon twist
standard-sized ice cubes

Method
Place a sugar cube in a rocks glass and douse with bitters. Add 1/2 teaspoon water and muddle until the sugar cube has broken apart. Fill with ice cubes. Meanwhile, shake the whiskey and bitters in ice and strain into the glass. Add the orange and cherry. Twist lemon over the glass and drop in. Add a small straw.

Photos © Steve Schul, Cocktail Buzz

Hooray for the Everyday: The Champagne Cocktail Is for Any Occasion

The Champagne Cocktail in all of its simple splendor

Nothing says “Cocktail Party” quite like a Champagne Cocktail. The sound of the bubbles rippling to the top of the glass, breaking the surface in gentle, aromatic huffs entices you instantly. Draw it to your lips and you can smell the slightly sweet brandy mingle with the spicy redolence of the Angostura bitters. Take one sip and let the giddiness ensue.

The Champagne Cocktail seems to have first appeared in print in Robert Tomes’s 1855 chronicle of the Panama Railroad, and he describes it as “the most delicious thing in the world.” After he carefully watches his friend craft this seemingly magical elixir, the two immediately take sips, and our illustrious author remarks how “the Champagne cock-tail . . . went whirring, roaring, foaming, and flowing down mine and the friendly concocter's thirsty throats.” Already we understand the power of this fizzy delight when in the company of another. It begs to be shared. Just hand one to your guests as they walk through the door and watch their reactions. You will have created an instant frisson of celebration as you welcome these eager, thirsty souls into your home.

The beauty of the Champagne Cocktail not only lies in its simplicity, it pairs will with so much party food. Oysters and clams on the half shell, spiced nuts, canapes, and mini quiches come to mind instantly. But don’t stop there; next time you whip up an hors d’oeuvre, make sure you have some bubbly handy and pour yourself a Champagne Cocktail. How do they taste together? We hope the answer is “Perfect.”

Remember, champagne doesn’t have to be just for a party. A hard day at work is reason enough to pop the cork and start pouring. You deserve it.

Champagne Cocktail
(adapted by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
1 ounce brandy (we like Asbach) or cognac (Hennessy will do you fine)
2 dashes Angostura bitters
3-4 ounces champagne
sugar cube

Method
Drop a sugar cube in a champagne flute and douse with bitters. Add chilled champagne. Float brandy on top by inverting a spoon over the flute and gently pouring the brandy onto the back of the spoon so that it cascades into the flute.

photo © Steve Schul, Cocktail Buzz

The Spirit of Brazil and the Globalization of Cachaça

A Baseado, made with cachaça, lemongrass, and other transporting ingredients. Saúde.

Steve was away for the weekend so when PR spirits queen Hanna Lee invited us to the Spirits of Brazil seminar at the Astor Center, I jumped at the chance. A while back, our friends Renato and Flavio brought us a bottle of cachaça from Brazil, one you can’t get in the States, and we were hooked. So, the prospect of sipping five cocktails along with a flight of cachaças and nibbling on a host of sweet and savory apps could not be passed up.

The seminar started a little late, so Paulo, a Brazilian man at my table, and spirits writer Carmen Operetta both agreed that we were officially on “Brazilian time.” But it was worth the wait. Vincent Bastos Ribiero, Master Distiller of Fazenda Soledad, proclaimed, “Like soccer and samba, cachaça is an expressive part of the Brazilian Soul.” And he wasn’t kidding. This spirit, made from the fermented juice of sugar cane, is drunk on a vast scale; many families in the fourth largest nation on earth make their own, and their are thousands of bottled expressions across the land.

But don’t confuse Cachaça with rum, in which molasses, the remnants of sugar refining, is used in the distillation process. According to Steve Luttmann, Founder and CEO of Leblon, cachaça needs its own internationally recognized geographical spirits designation, such as the ones held by tequila, cognac, and champagne. (You can learn more about this at Legalize Cachaça.)

Steve shared the floor with Olie Berlic, tireless cachaça champion and expert, and Leticia Moreinos Schwartz, chef and author of The Brazilian Kitchen, who uses cachaça in many of her recipes. Brazilian cuisine is a mix of Portuguese, Native American, and African cuisines. We were treated to some traditional and riffed-on Brazilian amuse bouche such as pao de quejo, a pop-in-your-mouth-sized doughy cheese puff, paired with Brazil’s traditional drink, the Caipirinha (which Olie says is probably the most widely drunk cocktail in the world). To be a Caiparinha, you must contain only three ingredients: cachaçca, sugar, and limes. No more, no less. How you make it though is up to debate, and, as Olie pointed out by having people raise their hands in the room, some of us are shakers and some of us are stirrers. (We’re stirrers, if you needed to know. We don’t like too much pulp in our Caipirinhas.)

Caipirinha

(adapted by Cocktail Buzz)

Ingredients
3 ounces cachaça
1/2 lime cut lengthwise, with ends cut off and middle pith removed
1 teaspoon sugar
small ice cubes or crushed ice

Method
Cut a deep cross into the pulp side of the lime, but not all the way through the peel. Add to a old-fashioned or rocks glass, peel side up. Add sugar. Gently muddle (about five twists). Add ice, then pour cachaça. Stir.

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Following that was a croquette de carne (meat croquette), which was paired with a Spiced Batida de Maracuja, a brunch cocktail made with cachaça, passion fruit, and a bit of habanera. Sweet, spicy, tart . . . delicious. Laticia expressed her strong desire to separate Latin and South American cuisines by region and nationality instead of the common practice of just lumping them all into one generic category. “We don’t do this to European cuisine. Each one is distinct in its own right. Why do this to the cuisines of the Americas?”

In between these pairings was a flight tasting of different cachaça, some unaged, and some slightly aged. Many cachaças are aged to mellow the alcoholic heat and to give the spirit a distinct flavor profile by aging in not just oak, but casks made from native Brazilian trees. The unaged Beleza Pura was a favorite, as was the Fazende Soledad, which is slightly aged. The Leblon is very clean and smooth, and makes a great mixer.

Steve made us a drink called Baseado (Brazilian slang for marijuana joint), that was sweet, but complex, redolent of coconut with flavors of lime and lemongrass. Exquisite, and perfect with the salty yucca sticks Leticia had prepared for us.

My favorite drink made me feel a little guilty: a Batida de Coco. It’s a simple rocks preparation of 1 part cachaça shaken with 2 parts coconut cream, and fortunately it landed right in front of me the same time as the Brazilian chocolate truffles known as brigadeiros. Mercy, they satisfied my sweet tooth and put a big ol’ smile on my face.

— Paul Zablocki