It's Mardi Gras and Carnival season (already!) so pop some vitamin C if you're still nursing your New Years hangover because, dang it, it's party time!
The quintessential Mardi Gras cocktail is, no doubt, the infamous Hurricane. The history of the Hurricane is rather murky, with some cocktail chroniclers pointing to its purported invention in the 1940's at Pat O' Brien's as a way to alleviate the enormous amounts of rum shoved upon him by his distributors. Others cite the 1939 World's Fair in New York at the (ahem) Hurricane Bar. Whether or not it was actually invented at O'Brien's, certainly the credit for the continuing popularity of this drink belongs to that establishment. If you go today, you'll get a pre-mixed version instead of one made with real fruit juice, so maybe stick to whipping up this cocktail at home.
The Hurricane
2 oz. light rum
2 oz. dark rum
1 oz. fresh orange juice
3/4 oz. fresh lime juice
2 oz. passion fruit juice
1/2 oz. simple syrup
Grenadine to taste
(I personally prefer this drink without it, but several recipes recommend throwing in some pineapple juice, anywhere from 1 to 2 ounces. It's your call.)
"Ice isn't just for chilling drinks anymore, or for packing fish and treating sprains. It's a hot snack. Some Sonic Drive-In franchises sell it in cups and in bags to go. Ice-machine makers are competing to make the best chewable ice, with names like Chewblet, Nugget Ice and Pearl Ice. One manufacturer calls the ice-loving South the "Chew Belt."
Sooooo -- any of y'all wanna fess up to being ice chewers? Have you ever shelled out for your habit? Got a favorite, uh, brand?
Antonio Rangel and colleagues at California Institute of Technology wanted to test the effects of perceived value on the assessment of wine quality, so they asked 20 people to sample wine while undergoing MRIs to monitor brain activity.
Then they lied to them.
Subjects were told that they were sampling 5 different Cabernet Sauvignons sold at different prices, but really, they were given three wines, two of them offered twice, marked with different prices. A $90 wine was presented at its real price, and also at $10. A $5 was shown with its real price, and also with a price tag of $45.
The subjects' brains registered more pleasure when they were drinking the wines they believed to be more expensive -- even when it was the exact same wine. When no prices were given, the $5 wine was rated best of all.
Our conclusion? Next time you're having people over for dinner, pour the vino in the kitchen and tell your guests whatever you think will make your 'em happiest.
We here at Raising The Bar are shamelessly dedicated to helping you enjoy your nights out on the town and improving the drinks you pay for. We also believe knowledge is power, and the best place to start is with cocktail books.
The first cocktail book I ever saw belonged to my parents. I'm not sure how old I was, but doubt I'd hit puberty yet. Anyway, being fascinated with the secret world of adults and, more specifically, anything forbidden to me, I filched a cocktail book from the bar and daydreamed about knocking back all the cocktails with funky and exotic ingredients. There was the Adonis with orange bitters and sherry, the White Russian (which my mom loved) with something called Kahlua and, oooooh, a drink called (snicker) The Bosom Caresser.
That book was the classic Mr. Boston's Bartender's Guide, with the red cover and the engraved portrait of man in a top hat, presumably ol' Boston himself just itching to get you soused. It's perhaps the most ubiquitous cocktail book in the world. Look up the skirt of most bars in America and you're bound to find a Mr. Boston's that collecting dust, but ready to save a bartender's ass if a weird or forgotten drink is requested, as it has been doing for 73 years. In fact, that should be that book's tagline: Mr Boston's Deluxe Official Bartender's Guide ... Saving Bartender's Asses Since 1935.
Cocktail books aren't just for bartenders. There are wonderful books out there that shine a light on the darkened corners of cocktail history and, at their best, re-introduce delicious vintage recipes that had long ago been unfairly put out to pasture, just waiting for some geek like me to get thirsty enough to try them. Below is a list of books which do just that. Now, the list is far from comprehensive. The purists and the dorks (like me) will shout how no list is complete without Jerry Thomas, they'll pooh-pooh any library without Gary Regan, and insist one can only truly begin with the mythical (but out-of-print) Jones Guide or the storied tomes by David Embury or Ted Saucier. However, the six books listed below are, in my opinion, excellent places to begin, each with their own quirky merits:
The holiday season is hitting its zenith, office parties are in full swing, families are getting together and everyone is in full seasonal regalia, knocking down shots and toasting the beginning of new year. Odd as it may be for a drinks writer and bartender to ask that everyone set down their martinis, their flutes and their shot glasses for a second, I'd like to ask that we do just that and take a moment to sober up and discuss the responsibilities we have.
With all the education and publicity out there on the perils of over-drinking, particularly when it comes to driving, there are always several people out there who either forget or flat-out ignore their limits every holiday season. I'm not talking about anything most of us don't know already, so rather than pitch a lecture here, I'm going to list a few reminders for everyone.
In his New York Times coverage of the recent legalization of absinthe in the USA, our pal Pete Wells mentioned that the new, less napalm-esque formulations don't necessarily require the sugar drip louching technique formerly necessary to make the stuff at all palatable. We respect that, but when you're dealing with the less swank stuff, some of us with a li'l pomp & skeleton to us like a bit of ritual.
The standard louche entails propping a slotted spoon across a glass with a shot of absinthe in it, placing a sugar cube into top, and slowly dripping water over it until the sugar dissolves, and the absinthe and water solution turns a cloudy green. We like that.
We also like playing with fire -- another standard, but far more spectacular serving technique. (Forgive the slight blurriness of the photos -- we were short a tripod, and stuff was, well, on fire.)
(UPDATE 12/18 -- since writing this, I've been lucky enough to sample the St. George absinthe about to hit the market, and it's of such exquisite quality that it would be simply criminal to set it aflame. Save the blaze for the smuggled-in Czech stuff, and nab yourself some St. George the very moment it arrives at your local absintheteria.)
1. Pour a shot of absinthe into a glass. Fill an un-slotted absinthe spoon or teaspoon with sugar, and dip into absinthe just enough to dampen the sugar.
2. Light a match and touch it to the sugar.
3. Allow the sugar to bubble and caramelize.
4. Dip the flaming spoon into the absinthe and stir. This will likely cause the absinthe in the glass to catch fire.
5. Pour in an equal amount of cold water to extinguish the flame.
6. The water will cause the absinthe to turn cloudy. Stir if needed to dissolve the sugar further, and drink.
Irish Coffee: Invented in an airport bar, of all places, by Joe Sheridan, who made it for disembarking passengers one nasty winter day back in the 40's. This is easily the most popular warmed cocktail.
1 ½ oz Irish whiskey
1 teaspoon brown sugar
Fill with hot coffee, stir until sugar is dissolved, add freshly whipped cream. That's it!
Spanish Coffee: Tastes good, and the fireworks show will thrill your guests as long as you don't set them or your house on fire. The fireworks aren't necessary, of course.
¾ oz Tia Maria
¾ oz Spanish brandy
¾ oz Cointreau
You'll need a shaker filled with ground cinnamon and a heat-resistant glass mug. Pour above ingredients in the mug, swirl the contents to coat the inside of the mug. Carefully light the liquor, rotating the glass in your hand. Shake the cinnamon over the lit liquor, which causes little sparks. Put out the fire by adding coffee, then topping off with freshly whipped cream.
Hot toddy: the quintessential winter warmer, and frequently mistaken as a cold remedy (alcohol, of course, dehydrates you - not what you want in a cold remedy - but, what the heck, it sure beats a tablespoon of Robitussin). Originating from Britain, the hot toddy is simply:
lemon
hot water
spirit of choice (Whiskey and brandy are the most popular, but Tuaca and other liqueurs work well, too)
honey
Mix. Drink.
Hot Buttered Rum: You can get the batter commercially, but where's the fun in that? For what it's worth, my mom was crazy about this drink, and so I have fond memories of this one. My mom bought the commercial batter, I think.
1 teaspoon brown sugar
4 oz hot water
2 oz dark rum
1 tablespoon butter
Combine the brown sugar and hot water, stirring until dissolved. Add the rum and float the butter on top. Grate fresh nutmeg over it and enjoy.
Ah, holiday time. Personally, I require a healthy amount of booze during the holidays; there's family and all the history and drama and love that comes with that, there's a new year to welcome and an old one to say goodbye to, co-workers to celebrate with and, well, I tend to drink more often when the weather is cold and miserable.
And I know I'm not drinking alone. Bars are packed, as are banquet rooms. Holiday parties at home, Christmas parties with co-workers. Even jolly old Saint Nick is in on the act (rosy red cheeks, that famous belly, his general merriment ... seems obvious to me Santa Claus enjoys a taste now and then.)
So, what are we drinking, anyway? Wine, to be sure, copious amounts of bubbly, beer of all styles and flavors. The good stuff comes out, too: single-malt scotches, aged bourbons, brandies...neat or on the rocks, the dark liquors tend to come out to play more often in the winter months, and it's good to see them.
How about cocktails? There are several, some of which have hundreds of years of tradition behind them. Here are a few to make the holidays just a little jollier:
Tom and Jerry: Like eggnog but want to try something different? Try this old warhorse, dating from the early 1800's, long rumored to be the invention of Jerry Thomas, the OG of bartenders and mixologists, though it appears now a sportswriter named Pierce Egan came up with this. This particular recipe comes from CocktailDB.com, my favorite cocktail recipe repository.
1 egg yolk
1 tsp sugar
1 1/2 oz light rum
1/4 tsp allspice
Mix vigorously, pour into 6 oz mug and top with hot water
Mulled Wine: Another oldie with numerous interpretations, mulled wine is simply hot, spiced wine. In Germany, it's called Glüewhein. The Nordic countries call it Glogg.
I like to prepare this at Thanksgiving, as there is nothing better than having the aroma of warm, spice-infused wine filling the house while waiting for the turkey to finish. I keep this pretty simple, but in addition to the ingredients listed below, you can, as others do, add brandy, madeira, sugar, ginger, almonds or even raisins.
2 bottles Cabernet or similar big-bodied red wine
2 packs of pre-packaged mulling spices, found at places like Whole Foods
Heat lightly in a non-aluminum pot until steaming, ladle into heat-resistant mugs. Garnish with an orange zest or wedge.
Now, I use spice packs simply because it is cleaner (all you have to do is pluck out the bag). If you'd rather use a tea ball, these are generally the spices you need: cinnamon, cardammon, cloves, and allspice.
Dating from the Middle Ages, Wassail is an old English toasting punch. Wassail takes it's name from a salutation, Wass hael, which translates as "be in good health." It is typically served in a wassail bowl and is passed around, with wass hael cheers greeting each guest.
There are several variations, from red wine to ale, sherry, brandy, tea and differing juices. This recipe combines beer (more than likely the traditional base) with cider, which is how it is more commonly thought of today, and comes from Mittie Hellmich's excellent Ultimate Bar Book:
1 teaspoon freshly ground allspice
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
½ teaspoon ground ginger
½ cup brown sugar
Juice of 1 orange, plus peel
Juice of 1 lemon, plus peel
8 oz hot water
32 oz brown ale
12 oz hard cider
In a large, non-aluminum pot, combine the spices, brown sugar, and orange and lemon juice and spiral peels with the hot water. Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, until hot. Add the ale and cider and cook until steaming (not boiling). Ladle into warmed heat-resistant mugs. Makes six servings.
Growing up, I assumed that some magical day, perhaps my 21st birthday, I would be suddenly, magically possessed of a cabinet filled to overflowing with Galliano, Cherry Heering, Creme de Menthe, Dubonnet and Harvey's Bristol Cream and other such 70s parental liquor cabinet staples. Such a thing did not come to pass, and while my booze shelf indeed floweth over, I've nary a drop of Galliano to my name. That's a darned shame, 'cause who doesn't love a fern bar derived pastry accompanying their morning cuppa?
Let's be honest; cocktails are not cheap. Breaking it down by fluid ounce, cocktails are, in most bars, one of the highest ticket items. Knowing this, it makes sense to make sure you are going to get what you pay for, which generally means a well-crafted balance of flavors (not to mention that fuzzy, happy-go-lucky buzz that helps us shrug off our hectic lives, even if only for a minute).
What follows are a few general guidelines to keep in mind before you order that Margarita you've been salivating over since noon. Next time you walk into a bar for the first time, take a moment to size up a few things before you lay down your hard-earned dollar.
It's a beautiful, sun-spangled day in Seattle, a perfect mid-summer cocktails-on-the-back-porch kind of day. We roll into a well-known bar on our way home to enjoy a drink on their patio. Christine, my fiancee, smartly orders a beer. Dopey ol' Keith swiftly makes two mistakes. One mistake I outlined in an earlier post, namely, I didn't specify precisely what I wanted and got a rudimentary version of a Manhattan, paying eight bucks for the pleasure.
The real error, however, came earlier, when I walked into the bar and looked around. This is a bar with glassy-eyed mounted animal heads lording over the place, a selection of hot nuts, Led Zeppelin on the jukebox, an impressive line of beer taps and European beers in the fridge behind the bartender. Getting the idea? I certainly didn't, and here's the kicker -- everybody in this bar, and I mean every dude and dudette, is buddying up to a pint of beer.
Everyone, that is, except me. And that's the problem.
It's Mardi Gras and Carnival season (already!) so pop some vitamin C if you're still nursing your New Years hangover because, dang it, it's party time!
Stop me if you've heard this one before.
A fraking amazing Battlestar Galactica cake
Iced Tea 101
Pierogies + cheese + onions + kraut = Parmageddon!
