
Refreshing summer libation…
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I took Lemon Daiquiri on July 07, 2014 at 06:58PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on July 08, 2014 at 12:02AM
Refreshing summer libation…
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http://flic.kr/p/nXF1ij
I took Lemon Daiquiri on July 07, 2014 at 06:58PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on July 08, 2014 at 12:02AM
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http://flic.kr/p/nMmZdE
I took Templeton Rye Old Fashioned with mashed cherries on June 22, 2014 at 02:43PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on June 22, 2014 at 09:26PM
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I took Cocktail (18) – Hendrick’s Gin, Meyer Lemon, Heering Cherry Liquer, Thatcher’s Blood Orange Liquer on May 16, 2014 at 10:32PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on May 17, 2014 at 03:35AM
recipe as described in Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails.
When I make this again, I’ll reduce the amount of absinthe.
Per Wikipedia:The Monkey Gland was created in the 1920s by Harry MacElhone, owner of Harry’s New York Bar in Paris, France
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I took The Monkey Gland Cocktail on June 08, 2014 at 09:04PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on June 09, 2014 at 02:10AM
A popular cocktail in the 1920s and 1930s, per Wikipedia
http://ift.tt/1wCKTNg(cocktail)
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I took The Jack Rose Cocktail on May 30, 2014 at 08:38PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on May 31, 2014 at 01:44AM
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http://flic.kr/p/nAYM5m
I took Cocktail (18) – Hendrick’s Gin, Meyer Lemon, Heering Cherry Liquer, Thatcher’s Blood Orange on May 16, 2014 at 10:32PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on May 17, 2014 at 03:35AM
From the 1st edition:
bit.ly/1p5xxmd
Scotch
fresh squeezed orange juice (I substituted Meyer Lemon)
Cherry Heering
Rosso Vermouth
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I took Blood and Sand with Meyer Lemon on March 15, 2014 at 05:56PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on March 15, 2014 at 10:59PM
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I took Buffalo Trace Bourbon – cocktail with muddled mint, orange bitters, Bonal Gentiane Quina on February 19, 2014 at 07:24PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on February 20, 2014 at 01:30AM
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I took Vieux Carré Cocktail variant on January 07, 2013 at 07:30PM
and processed it in my digital darkroom on January 08, 2013 at 01:54AM
2 parts dry gin, one part lemon juice, and two dashes of maraschino liqueur. I actually used a Meyer Lemon, but I only had one, so it is not pictured.
books.google.com/books?id=sCR7wWhM7IQC&pg=PA58&lp…
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I took The Aviation on December 29, 2013 at 01:46AM
Vieux Carré with Armagnac and Few Rye
I don’t know much about the chef Mario Batali. I saw him interviewed on a Daily Show with Jon Stewart a while back, I know he’s opening a place in River North called Eataly, I recall he was victorious in a Twitter war with some anti-abortion zealots protesting his donation to a Texas fundraiser, and I know he likes orange crocs. However, I have been reading, and enjoying, his weekly cocktail suggestions in the New York Times Magazine, such as his version of one of my favorite ways to drink cognac (or related liquors).
Mr. Batali wrote:
Last month, I was invigorated by an 11 a.m. restorative Vieux Carré at the Carousel Bar in New Orleans. Fill a shaker with ice and add a dash each of Benedictine, Peychaud’s and Angostura bitters and a shot each of rye whiskey, cognac and Punt e Mes. Shake, then strain into a glass filled with fresh ice and garnish with an Amarena cherry — then let the late-morning voodoo do its work.
(click here to continue reading Hungry, Hungry Voters – NYTimes.com.)
I’ve never had Punt e Mes, nor do I have Amarena cherries, so here was my version – for the afternoon, 11 A.M. is a little early for me.
Stir vigorously over ice, strain into a chilled cocktail glass, garnish with a lemon twist – making sure to get a good bit of lemon on the glass edge.
Imbibe. Try to have only one. I had two.
I purchased my first ever bottle of Calvados, which is a brandy from Normandy, made from apples.
Apple orchards and brewers are mentioned as far back as the 8th century by Charlemagne. The first known Norman distillation was carried out by “Lord” de Gouberville in 1554, and the guild for cider distillation was created about 50 years later in 1606. In the 17th century the traditional ciderfarms expanded but taxation and prohibition of cider brandies were enforced elsewhere than Brittany, Maine and Normandy. The area called “Calvados” was created after the French Revolution, but “eau de vie de cidre” was already called “calvados” in common usage. In the 19th century output increased with industrial distillation and the working class fashion for “Café-calva”. When a phylloxera outbreak in the last quarter of the 19th century devastated the vineyards of France and Europe, calvados experienced a “golden age”. During World War I cider brandy was requisitioned for use in armaments due to its alcohol content.
The appellation contrôlée regulations officially gave calvados a protected name in 1942. After the war many cider-houses and distilleries were reconstructed, mainly in the Pays d’Auge. Many of the traditional farmhouse structures were replaced by modern agriculture with high output. The Calvados appellation system was revised in 1984 and 1996. Pommeau got its recognition in 1991; in 1997 an appellation for Domfront with 30% pears was created.
…
Calvados is distilled from cider made from specially grown and selected apples, of which there are over 200 named varieties. It is not uncommon for a Calvados producer to use over 100 specific varieties of apples, which are either sweet (such as the Rouge Duret variety), tart (such as the Rambault variety), or bitter (such as the Mettais, Saint Martin, Frequin, and Binet Rouge varieties), the latter being inedible.
The fruit is harvested (either by hand or mechanically) and pressed into a juice that is fermented into a dry cider. It is then distilled into eau de vie. After two years aging in oak casks, it can be sold as Calvados.
(click here to continue reading Calvados (brandy) – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.)
Calvados by itself as a digestive could be ok, but in all honesty, there are not many times when I eat a big enough dinner that I need a digestive afterwords. Plus, I enjoy exploring the science of mixology.
Thus I’ve been exploring cocktails made with Calvados, including this one in Ted Haight’s book, Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails. The recipe, as pictured above:
Add ingredients in a cocktail shaker over ice, give it a hearty shake, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
I also tried a Honeymoon Cocktail (almost pictured). I made it like this:
Again, goes without saying you pour these ingredients in a cocktail shaker over ice, give it a hearty shake, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
Bears further study – especially since I still have most of a bottle of Calvados in my bar…
my attempt at making a Rabbie Burns aka Robert Burns cocktail…
The peculiar habit among Americans to call Burns “Bobby” (or “Bobbie”) has long been an object of derision. Ogden Nash proclaimed in the New Yorker: “That hero my allegiance earns/Who boldly speaks of Robert Burns.” His 1951 poem “Everything’s Haggis in Hoboken” lampoons “coy and cute” faux-Scots who “turn all doch-an-dorris” at the mention of Burns. “I have an inexpensive hobby,” Nash wrote, “Simply not to call him Bobby.” Noting that he would no more speak of Tommy Hardy or Bernie Shaw, Nash penned this indelible couplet: “And I yearn to shatter a set of crockery/On this condescending Bobbie-sockery.” Nash liked a drink, but he wouldn’t have dreamed of ordering a Bobby Burns.
In the U.K., the problematic diminutive isn’t Bobbie, but “Rabbie.” Many Burnsians take it as a mark of the neophyte or poseur when they hear someone praise dear old “Rabbie.” Others get downright offended. Cranky Glaswegian politician John S. Clarke wrote in 1925: “To refer to Burns as ‘Rabbie’ at this stage in world history is a piece of disgusting insolence.” I quail to think what Clarke would have said of the Bobby Burns cocktail.
The drink makes one of its first appearances in the 1930 “Savoy Cocktail Book,” published in London. The cocktail is called the Bobby Burns, and is made with Scotch, sweet vermouth and a bit of Benedictine. But that may not be the original Burns Cocktail. “Old Waldorf Bar Days” was published in 1931, but its recipes were those served at the Waldorf Hotel before Prohibition. The book includes not a Bobby Burns but a more formally titled Robert Burns. (The author, Albert Stevens Crockett, isn’t sure whether the drink was christened for the famous poet or for a local cigar salesman of the same name.) Instead of adding Benedictine to the Scotch and vermouth, the Waldorf’s Robert Burns cocktail calls for a dash of absinthe.
Further complicating matters, the Burns hasn’t always stuck to Benedictine or absinthe. Kingsley Amis, in his book “Every Day Drinking,” stated that “Bobbie Burns” cocktails were to be made of Scotch, vermouth and Drambuie. He had good reason for this recommendation: David Embury, author of the indispensable 1948 “Fine Art of Mixing Drinks” defines a Bobbie Burns cocktail as a “Rob Roy with the addition of 1 dash of Drambuie.” Embury notes that “Benedictine is sometimes used in place of Drambuie,” but he says that “Drambuie is preferable because it is made with a Scotch whisky base.”
Embury also suggests adding a dash of Peychaud’s bitters to the mix. I’m not so sure about the Peychaud’s, but I do prefer the drink made with Drambuie. You may disagree — it’s worth trying the Burns cocktail all three ways to find out how you like it best.
(click here to continue reading A Birthday Toast to Scotland’s Bard – WSJ.com.)
For the record, I tried all three (using only 1 oz of Scotch, and other ingredients proportionately adjusted), and liked the Benedictine version best, the Drambuie variant second best, and the Absinthe version was a bit overpowered by the Absinthe. Final verdict was: worth trying if you want to drink a Scotch cocktail. I’ve had this bottle of Dewar’s White Label for a long, long time, might as well drink it up, and celebrate the poet.
Burns, in common with many other great figures in history, did indeed have a colorful and eventful life during his 37 short years upon this earth, his early demise due in no small part to the doctors of the time who believed that standing immersed in the freezing waters of the Soiway Firth would benefit his failing health.
But his lifestyle is not the reason for his everlasting fame. That is due simply to the wonderful legacy of poems and songs that he left to the world, and which most certainly deserve to be read more than once a year.
Robert Burns was a man of vision. He believed absolutely in the equality of man, irrespective of privilege of rank or title. He detested cruelty and loved the gifts of nature.
It is undeniable that Burns liked the company of women, but what is not generally recognised is that he was a strong advocate of women’s rights, at a time when few men were.
He despised false piety and consequently was unpopular with the church as he mocked their preachers mercilessly.
I have, however, heard an eloquent Church of Scotland minister describe some lines from the Bard’s works as being no less than modern proverbs, and it is difficult to disagree with that statement when one considers the depth of meaning in some of the words that Burns wrote.
‘The best laid schemes o’ mice and men gang aft agley!’
‘Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn!’
‘O wad some Power the giftie gie us to see oursels as ithers see us!’
‘An honest man’s the noblest work of God!”
The works of Robert Burns are indeed full of wisdom!
Burns’ poems and songs are wonderful to read, but as many are composed in what is virtually a foreign language to the bulk of English speakers, they can be heavy going to the non-Scot, or non-Scots speaker.
This book contains a varied selection of Burns’ works, some well known, others less so.
(click here to continue reading Understanding Robert Burns.)
Sazerac Cocktail
Here’s how I made this.
If I made this again, I would serve it in an old fashioned glass with ice – this would help dilute the whiskey a bit more. As it was, the whiskey had a bit of a bite still. Quite delicious, especially if you have a taste for rye whiskey.
Footnotes:
Absinthe Sazerac – America’s First Cocktail
I had a first attempt at making a Sazerac at home the other day, but wasn’t quite satisfied: perhaps I used too much Absinthe. Will try again as soon as I am able…
This variant ran in the NYT in 2009
Sazerac
- 1/4 ounce (1 1/2 teaspoons) Herbsaint, absinthe or pastis
- 1/2 teaspoon sugar
- 2 dashes Angostura bitters
- 3 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
- 2 ounces (1/4 cup) good rye whiskey
- 1 lemon, unwaxed and scrubbed.
1. Place a short rocks glass in the freezer to chill.
2. Add the Herbsaint to the chilled glass, swirl it around to give the inside of the glass a thin coating, then discard the excess.
3. Place the sugar in the bottom of a mixing glass with a few drops of water. With a wooden spoon or cocktail muddler, muddle down the sugar, add the bitters and keep muddling. Add the whiskey and stir well, until the sugar is dissolved. Add enough ice to fill the mixing glass three-quarters full and stir for about 20 seconds.
4. Strain into the coated glass and, using a vegetable peeler or sharp knife, slice off a piece of lemon peel. Squeeze the peel’s oils over the drink and either discard the peel or drop it in the drink.
Adapted from “Artisanal Cocktails” by Scott Beattie.
(click here to continue reading Tales of a Cocktail | Sampling Sazeracs in New Orleans – NYTimes.com.)