An occasional column on drinks made from the legendary 1930 "Savoy Cocktail Book."

Please forgive the prolonged absence. Orange bitters, or rather, a lack of it, waylaid this column longer than expected.

When we last met, I had finally achieved a childhood goal: obtaining an original "Savoy Cocktail Book" and making my first "Savoy" cocktail -- the Hanky Panky (on the advice of mixologist Gary Regan).

A few days after that column appeared, I bumped into James Beard Award-winning mixologist Dale DeGroff at World Cocktail Day. When I asked him what I should try making, he didn't hesitate: "Satan's Whiskers."



Well, actually he recommended more than just Satan's Whiskers. "There is a series of eight or 10 cocktails on two pages beginning with the Satan's Whiskers (straight) and the Satan's Whiskers (curled) through the Scoff-Law Cocktail that are good," he said.

I already had an inkling why he chose that particular place to start. But I asked him anyway. "The name, of course!"



And it is kind of seductive, cocktails conjuring the wicked curl of Mephistopheles goatee. For this column, I decided to play it straight. Italian vermouth, French vermouth, gin, orange juice, Grand Marnier -- I had everything needed but the orange bitters. (Satan's Whiskers [Curled] replaces the Grand Marnier with orange curaçao.)

Thus began my three-week search for an ingredient I now refer to as "the devil's juice." I know, I know. I should have ordered it online, but the hunt is half the fun. Rhubarb bitters, old fashioned bitters. I could find everything but orange over Memorial Day weekend. Is this the secret ingredient to barbecue sauce? The devil's juice finally appeared in a specialty Brooklyn grocery, and Mephistopheles' work was able to begin.

As far as cocktails go, Satan's Whiskers is no muss, no fuss. There isn't a garnish and all you really need to do is plop the ingredients in a shaker, do your shimmy magic and pour. The results are an orange delight, bitter and sweet.

However, this is the work of the devil. Be sure to sip only one. Another may take you to his hell on Earth: the hangover.

What cocktail should I try next? Give me suggestions in the comments section.

Sara Bonisteel is an editor at AOL Food.