The Singapore Sling

Tarus Gin, Liqueurs, Stars - 5

Another favorite of mine, The Singapore Sling:

  • 2.00 ounces gin
  • 0.75 ounce Cherry Heering (or other cherry-flavored brandy)
  • 2 teaspoons Benedictine
  • 2 teaspoons Cointreau
  • 2.00 ounces pineapple juice
  • 0.75 ounce fresh lime juice
  • 2 dashes real pomegranate grenadine
  • 1 dash Angostura Bitters
  • Soda water

Combine all except soda water in an iced cocktail shaker. Shake, and strain into a highball or collins glass with a couple of lumps of ice. Top with soda water. Gernish with a cherry, a pineapple slicem, and an orange wheel.

One of the things I like about the Appendix in Dr. Cocktail’s book is that a lot of the recipes are true classics, and thus are very tasty. The Singapore Sling is no exception.

I am still looking for a definitive list of vintage cocktail terms. For example, while now the term “cocktail” refers to almost any drink with spirits, a cocktail used to mean spirit, water, sugar and bitters. A sling was spirit, water, sugar and citrus. A flip contained an egg. A fizz contained something “fizzy” like soda water, so could this be the Singapore Fizz?

The Death & Co. recipe leaves the soda water out entirely.

  • 1.50 ounces Beefeater London Dry Gin
  • 0.50 ounce Cherry Heering
  • 0.25 ounce Benedictine
  • 0.25 ounce Cointreau
  • 2.00 ounces pineapple juice
  • 0.50 ounce fresh lime juice
  • 0.50 ounce real pomegranate grenadine
  • 1 dash Angostura Bitters

Short shake all the ingredients with 3 ice cubes, then strain into a highball glass filled with ice cubes. Garnish with a pineapple and cherry flag.

I made the Death & Co. version, since that is what made friend Justin made for us in one of his cocktail classes. It is very tasty. Dr. Cocktails version is a bit larger, and as I still have some pineapple juice around, I plan to make it again.

Now the Singapore Sling is a descendant of the Straits Sling. As I mentioned in that article, I used to go out with my friends Nick and Nora to a restaurant in Raleigh, NC, that was known for the Hang Chow Sling, named after the restaurant.

Fond memories are the best addition to any cocktail.

Notes: While most vintage cocktail lovers make their own grenadine, I’ve found an acceptable bottled version in Stirrings.

Rating: 5/5

Last Word

Tarus Gin, Liqueurs, Stars - 5

One of my favorites, it’s the Last Word:

  • 0.75 ounce Beefeater London Dry Gin
  • 0.75 ounce Green Chartreuse
  • 0.75 ounce Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur
  • 0.75 ounce lime juice

Shake all ingredients with ice, then strain into a coupe. No garnish.

This is one of my go-to cocktails, and I’m surprised it wasn’t included in Dr. Cocktail’s book. It is vintage, having been invented in Detroit in the 1920s, and it was forgotten for many years.

I was introduced to it by my cocktail chef friend Justin, who brought it up when I was talking about another favorite, the Golden Dawn. My preferred recipe for the Golden Dawn involves equal proportions of ingredients, and the Last Word also uses equal proportions, making it easy to remember. I’m seeing it offered in more bars, including the menu at Dry Martini in Barcelona. This recipe comes from the excellent Death & Co. book.

It’s hard to pin down exactly why this cocktail works. It’s slightly sweet, but that is balanced by the herbal nature of the Chartreuse. If cocktails could be comfort food, this would be mine.

Rating: 5/5

Cuba Libré

Tarus Rum, Stars - 4

In honor of Obama’s visit, here’s the Cuba Libré:

  • 2 ounces rum (Cuban preferred)
  • Juice of 1/2 lime
  • Coca-Cola

In an iced highball glass, combine the rum and lime juice. Fill with Coca-Cola. Garnish with a lime wedge.

No, this isn’t “Rum and Coke”. Rum and Coke was one of the first cocktails I ever had as rum was cheap and easy to find, and Coke was everywhere. But as Dr. Cocktail points out in his book, the lime juice changes everything, and he’s right.

This was the best “Rum and Coke” I ever had.

First of all, I went with aged Cuban rum. I used to point out that it was my “contraband” rum, but I’m not sure that is true any more. While I haven’t seen Cuban rum in a US store as of yet, it probably won’t be long now.

Second, I used “Mexican” Coke – it’s ¡refresco! In the US the sweetner in Coke is high fructose corn syrup instead of cane sugar. However, elsewhere in the world they still use “real” sugar, and the easiest way to get that in the US is to look for Coke from Mexico. Even with my limited palate I can taste the difference. I wanted to get as close to the original drink as I could.

According to Wikipedia, the Cuba Libré was invented in 1900 on the island after the War of Independence when Coke was introduced by way of American troops, so this is definitely a classic.

Rating: 4/5

Notes: I used Havana Club 7 year-old aged rum.

Old-Fashioned

Tarus Bourbon

It’s another classic, the Old-Fashioned:

  • 2 ounces Eagle Rare 10-Year Bourbon
  • 1 teaspoon Demerara Syrup
  • 2 dashes Angostura Bitters
  • 1 dash Bitter Truth Aromatic Bitters

Stir all the ingredients over ice, then strain into a double rocks glass over one large ice cube. Garnish with an orange and a lemon twist.

Okay, the above recipe doesn’t come from Dr. Cocktail’s book, but he does hold forth on what makes an Old Fashioned. This is one of the “primal” cocktails, and I as mentioned in the write up for Pink Gin, cocktails started out as spirit, water, sugar and bitters – that’s it.

A cocktail made with whiskey, then, was simply called the Whiskey Cocktail, and in those times whiskey meant rye. In addition to the four main ingredients, you might find a bit of curaçao. As time went on and newer cocktails were invented, the curaçao was replaced with a muddled orange peel and the drink was referred to as the “Old Fashioned Whiskey Cocktail”, soon to be shortened to “Old Fashioned”, and bourbon became acceptable as well as rye.

Since Dr. Cocktail doesn’t really list an exact recipe, I took this one from the Death & Co. book.

Now I struggled with bits of Vintage Spirits because in many cases he would not specify particular brands of spirits. Since they can have different flavor profiles, I was never sure if my choices matched up to what he had in mind. Contrast that with Death & Co., whose ingredient list can sometimes border on alchemy:

“Take two ounces of Old McCracken 15.75 year-old single malt peated Scotch decanted from the sherry barrels only. To it add three dashes of Madame LeCroix’s Persimmon/Chocolate bitters from 1963, &tc.”

I was happy to find that I actually had some of the required bourbon for their Old Fashioned recipe, and a quick trip to Amazon got me the Bitter Truth Aromatic Bitters.

Now usually I don’t just run off and buy bitters. I have a lot of different bitters, those from Madame LeCroix notwithstanding, but these Bitter Truth bitters appear in a number of Death & Co. recipes, so I figured I should get some.

I want to note that the Death & Co. book has over 500 recipes in it, but I’m currently stuck in the “Classic and Vintage” section. This means I open the book to page 150 (easy to remember) and then flip through the alphabetically listed recipes. The words “Bitter Truth Aromatic Bitters” caught my eye more than once.

Which brings me to a trick I learned about bitters. In my quest to understand cocktails, I often taste the ingredients individually. Now I don’t have the most accomplished palate, but I have started to learn how things taste and I can imagine how they will come together. My friend Justin taught me a trick about bitters. To taste them, put some water in a small glass and add several goodly dashes of bitters to it. You then have enough to get the bitters to the various taste centers on your tongue without being overwhelmed.

So I did this with both the Angostura bitters and those from Bitter Truth. Tasting the Angostura bitters was very familiar – fragrant with an herbal tang and a distinct bitterness. The Bitter Truth – wow. When they say “aromatic” they aren’t kidding – you can smell it long before the glass gets to your lips. Very spicy, almost with a chili burn but without the fire, and the bitterness really packs a kick. Please forgive my prose as I’m not used to writing about such things, but I can now recognize the role these bitters play in the drink.

And it is a fine drink. I don’t need an excuse to drink bourbon, especially one as nice as Eagle Rare, but the sugar and the bitters do what they are supposed to do: accentuate the already great flavor of the bourbon. Ultimately, the quality of the Old Fashioned is dependent on the quality of the whiskey.

Rating: 5/5

Notes: The Death & Co. recipe for Demerara Syrup is two parts sugar to one part water. It’s very sweet but you don’t use much of it.

Navy Grog (The Ancient Mariner)

Tarus Rum, Stars - 5

There may not be nary a drop of water to drink, so try The Ancient Mariner:

  • 1.00 ounce Demerara rum (not the 151-proof kind)
  • 1.00 ounce dark Jamaican rum (Coruba)
  • 0.75 ounce fresh lime juice
  • 0.50 ounce grapefruit juice
  • 0.50 ounce simple syrup
  • 0.25 ounce Allspice Dram

Build in a double old-fashioned glass filled with crushed ice. Garnish with a lime wedge and a mint sprig.

Ah, Tiki drinks. How I love ’em. And this one features Allspice Dram, the key ingredient in another favorite cocktail of mine, The Lion’s Tail.

It’s a wonderful drink, and Andrea even liked it (she liked it so much she thought I was on a different book – she likes her cocktails sweet).

I do want to stress that this drink needs to be called the Ancient Mariner, and not Navy Grog. Navy Grog is a similar drink, but it adds an additional ounce of light rum as well as honey, and skips the Allspice Dram. According to Jeff “Beachbum” Berry, this drink was an attempt to copy Trader Vic’s Navy Grog, which was itself an attempt to copy Don the Beachcomber’s Navy Grog.

Yes, it’s Navy Grogs, all the way down.

I do want to try Berry’s actual Navy Grog, which apparently requires an ice cone garnish (I added one to my wish list on Amazon), but for now I’ll stick with The Ancient Mariner and its wonderful Allspice Dram.

Rating: 5/5

Notes: This was a perfect time to use my special 12 year old aged El Dorado Demerara rum, as it is awesome. I used Myers’s Dark Rum since Coruba is pretty much non-existent. The Allspice Dram was St. Elizabeth’s.

Pimm’s Cup

Tarus Liqueurs

Need a refreshing drink? Try a Pimm’s Cup:

  • 2.0 ounces Pimm’s #1 Gin Sling
  • 7-Up, bitter lemon, lemonade, ginger ale or ginger beer.

In an iced highball glass, pour in the Pimm’s #1. Fill with 7-Up if you’re modern, bitter lemon or lemonade if you are British, or ginger ale (or ginger beer). Stir. Garnish with a long wedge of cucumber, and breathe deep as you sip.

It has been unseasonably warm here, and when I came in from working on the farm I wanted something cold, tall and refreshing. So I made a Pimm’s Cup.

This drink is part of a class of drinks known as “Fruit Cups“, a British specialty drink usually served in the summer. Pimm’s #1 is probably the best known liqueur for Fruit Cups, although I learned that there were actually six varieties of Pimm’s, each with a different base spirit (#1 is based on gin). Only #1 is still available.

Although I’m sure purists will gasp, I used French lemonade in this one. My friend Wayne had bought it for my birthday and it was perfect in this drink. Note that Pimm’s is only 50 proof so it is much weaker than most of the cocktails featured here. When summer gets into full swing I’ll probably alternate between this and Gin and Tonics. The flavor reminds me of some specialty colas, and it is very easy to drink.

Rating: 5/5 – this is a weak 5 but since I did have two of them, it counts. Actually, I had three of them since my pictures didn’t come out from the first take. (sigh)

The Martini

Tarus Brandy/Vermouth/Wine, Gin, Stars - 5

Presenting the venerable Martini:

  • 1.5 ounces dry London gin
  • 1.5 ounces French dry vermouth
  • 1 dash orange bitters
  • 1 lemon twist

Stir the gin and vermouth vigorously and long in a tall glass filled with ice (or an actual martini pitcher). Add the orange bitters. Strain into a “martini” cocktail glass. Garnish with an olive.

Okay, it is easy to argue that there isn’t a cocktail more classic than the Martini, and it is also easy to argue about how to make a Martini. The recipe above comes from a bar in Barcelona, Spain, called Dry Martini. It was one of the best Martinis I’ve ever had, so I decided to recreate it at home.

Note that it uses a huge amount of vermouth, which may be why I like it so much. Here is Ted Haigh’s recipe for the Classic 1950s Martini:

  • 3.0 ounce gin or vodka
  • 0.5 ounce dry vermouth
  • 1 dash orange bitters

Stir the gin and vermouth vigorously and long in an iced martini pitcher. Add the orange bitters. Garnish with a pimento-stuffed olive or a lemon twist.

I assume that the step to strain into a martini glass is implied.

Note that the ratio of gin to vermouth has gone from 1:1 all the way up to 6:1 (which is the standard, apparently). Modern versions use even less vermouth, with the joke being “pour in the liquor and hold the glass up next to a bottle of vermouth”.

Look, if you want to swill straight gin or vodka, I’m not going to stand in your way, just don’t call it a Martini. The vermouth is important, but I think most people don’t treat their vermouth very well, and this is why they don’t like it.

Vermouth is a wine product, not a spirit, and so it has a much, much shorter shelf life. In fact, if you have an opened bottle of vermouth on your shelf, throw it out. Once opened, keep it in your refrigerator. If you have a bottle in your refrigerator and you can’t remember opening it, throw it out. This is why I buy 375ml bottles – I actually don’t drink that much but I can usually get through the small bottle before it loses its flavor.

When fresh, it makes a great drink. Dry Martini was the first place I saw the 1:1 ratio, but just recently my friend Justin (the cocktail chef at Oakleaf) made his 1:1, using a Spanish vermouth called Yzaguirre. He thinks that vermouth is outstanding, so while I’m a Dolin traditionalist, I will have to try it.

Death & Co. use a 3:1 ratio:

  • 2.50 ounces Plymouth, Beefeater London Dry, or Tanquery London Dry Gin
  • 0.75 ounce Dolin Dry Vermouth
  • 1 dash orange bitters

Stir all the ingredients over ice, then strain into a Martini glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

There are a couple other misconceptions about the Martini that need to be cleared up. First, for me the Martini involves gin. I don’t really care for vodka in cocktails – it has no flavor unless it has been artificially added. I have exactly two bottles of vodka in my collection and an entire shelf full of gin, so please understand my bias.

But, you may ask, what about James Bond? Doesn’t he drink Vodka Martinis?

Not exactly. In the books he drinks Vespers, which involve gin, vodka and Kina Lillet. They are also shaken, but the traditional Martini is stirred.

Dr. Cocktail refers to a “martini pitcher”. While I had never heard of a martini pitcher before, at Dry Martini they have these very tall (over one foot high) vessels completely filled with ice that they use to make the drink, and I assume that’s what he means. The drink comes out extremely cold, which is nice.

So go out and get yourself some nice vermouth and try the 1:1 Martini. You’ll be glad you did.

Rating: 5/5

Notes: When it comes to Martinis, my go-to gin is Bombay Sapphire, which is why I have such a large bottle. I used the French Dolin Dry Vermouth as well. I used my special barrel-aged Fee Brothers bitters.

Ritz Sidecar

Tarus Brandy/Vermouth/Wine, Liqueurs, Stars - 5

A cocktail I won’t make, it’s the Ritz Sidecar:

  • 5 parts very old cognac
  • 3 parts Cointreau
  • 2 parts fresh lemon juice

Shake in an iced cocktail shaker, strain tremulously into a chilled cocktail glass, and stare at the treasure in rapt silence for a full fifteen seconds before quaffing.

By “very old cognac” he means at least pre-Phylloxera cognac. Phylloxera is an aphid-like insect that was brought to Europe from grape vines in America. The American vines had resistance to it, but the European vines were devastated. While I’ve never had cognac that old, I’ve been told that many people believe it was better than that produced today. The real cognac snob wants pre-Oidium cognac. Oidium, from what I can tell, was a form of powdery mildew that caused damage to French vines starting in 1854 before Phylloxera came along to finish the job.

The Sidecar is a classic drink, born out of the Brandy Crusta. I used to drink Sidecars before I even heard the term “vintage cocktail” and I can remember having a wonderful one in an outdoor restaurant in Portland, Oregon many years ago. I can’t remember the restaurant but I can remember the drink.

The Ritz sidecar is a Sidecar made with this very expensive cognac. It is named after the Hôtel Ritz in Paris, but while it was the “most expensive cocktail in the world” when the book was written, in 2014 it was only the 8th most expensive, coming in at US$1670 (there are cocktails going for almost fifty times that amount now, usually involving diamonds).

If I had access to cognac that old (and a quick Google search found a number of bottles going for around US$5000 with the cheapest just south of US$3000) I don’t think I’d mix it with anything, but if so, it would have to pair with a rare example of Cointreau (my local liquor store had a bottle for about US$300 but I’m not sure what it was, exactly).

Anyway, there is nothing wrong with a good ol’ post-Phylloxera Sidecar:

  • 1 ounce brandy
  • 1 ounce Cointreau
  • 1 ounce fresh lemon juice

Combine in an iced cocktail shaker. Shake, and strain into a cocktail glass.

Dr. Cocktail states that this works well because you can play with the ratios. Too strong, decrease the brandy. Too sweet, add more lemon, etc.

I am fond of the recipe from Death & Co.:

  • 2.00 ounces Pierre Ferrand 1840 Cognac
  • 0.50 ounce Cointreau
  • 0.75 ounce fresh lemon juice
  • 0.25 ounce cane sugar syrup

Shake all ingredients with ice, then strain into a coupe. Garnish with an orange twist.

When I saw “Pierre Ferrand 1840 Cognac” I thought they were referring to a Ritz Sidecar cognac (i.e. using cognac actually from 1840) but I learned that it is a somewhat affordable cognac that is made in a style to reflect the way they did it back then, but it isn’t 175 years old.

I love this drink. It is one reason I started this journey to make the recipes in Dr. Cocktail’s book. In a world of cocktail lists featuring vodka exclusively and drinks ending in “-tini”, this reminds me what cocktails were all about.

And it also marks the end of Phase One of my experiement. In the past 17 months I’ve managed to make and document all 89 of the main recipes in the book (well, with the exception of this one, and unless my fairy godparents pop for some fancy hooch, or I manage to pick six numbers, it ain’t gonna happen). I also managed to wrangle the recipes to a few other drinks and even had a drink named after me (and I think it was almost as cool to catch Justin looking up his recipe on this blog a year later).

There are twenty-one more in the extras section (well, twenty since I’m counting the Sidecar here) and I plan to make them all. But I also plan to explore more of Death & Co. as well as my newest acquisition, Dead Rabbit. As Death & Co. has more than 500 recipes and I have slight OCD, don’t expect me to list them in the index and to make all of them.

If I list them I would fill compelled, and I’m looking forward to being able to make a drink without having to get out the lights and the camera.

Rating: 5/5

Notes: I made the Death & Co. version of this drink with the Pierre Ferrand 1840 Cognac.

Saint Croix Rum Fix

Tarus Rum, Stars - 4

The fix is in. Well, the Saint Croix Rum Fix:

  • 2.0 ounce Virgin Islands Rum (Cruzan Estate Dark Rum recommended)
  • 0.5 ounce pineapple syrup
  • Juice of 1/2 lemon
  • 2 teaspoons sugar or simple syrup

In a tumbler or large wineglass, combine the ingredients. Stir until dissolved. Pack crushed ice into the glass and garnish with seasonal fruit. Serve with a straw.

I am still searching for someone to definitively help me with some classic cocktail terms. For example, I have no idea about what really defines a Fizz, or a Sling, nor a Rickey or a Collins, or a Julep or a Swizzle.

The same is true of a Fix. Apparently it is a drink with shaved ice, lemon juice, water and sugar in addition to the spirit, but apparently these things have a habit of changing with time and the initial definition gets lost.

This recipe is from The Complete Bartender circa 1884, and after tasting it, I’m glad it has been found again.

Oooh, and thanks to the magic that is archive.org, you can see it for yourself:

(It’s interactive – try it)

I’m going to have to look up a few more books now that I’ve discovered that little trick.

It’s a very nice cocktail. With rum and fruit juice, specifically pineapple, I was thinking this would be something very sweet like a Tiki drink, but it wasn’t. Sure, it was on the sweet side, but by including so much of a assertive rum it balances out. I liked it.

Rating: 4/5

Notes: I didn’t have any Cruzan Estate Dark Rum but I did have some nice Cruzan Single Barrel that worked really well.

Pink Gin

Tarus Gin, Stars - 3

“What is a cocktail?” A question raised by Pink Gin:

Shake in an iced cocktail shaker. Strain into a stemmed cocktail glass, sans garnish.

According to Wikipedia, the first use of the word “cocktail” to refer to a beverage was in 1806:

“Cock-tail is a stimulating liquor, composed of spirits of any kind, sugar, water, and bitters”

So, what happens when you forget the sugar and water? What makes a cocktail a cocktail and not just swilling booze from a bottle? Can I put a small cube of ice in a glass of Powers and call it a cocktail? There is an entire class of two ingredient cocktails called the “highball” but the second ingredient is usually a fizzy soda product that is more than just water. I was not looking forward to making this drink.

I decided to treat it as the world’s driest Martini with the bitters standing in for the vermouth. I chilled the glass and made sure the gin was good and cold.

The first thing I noticed was that it was more orange than pink (if you want pink, I bet Peychaud’s bitters would do the trick). At first taste my fears were confirmed – too bitter and not much character.

But as I drank the rest of it, my opinion started to change. It reminded me a little of a Manhattan (obviously due to the bitters) and I think if you back off the bitters a bit (to maybe four goodly dashes) it would be balanced. Overall, I liked it more than I thought I would, although a dirty Martini with a good dry vermouth is more my speed.

Rating: 3/5 by the barest of margins.

Notes: I used Plymouth gin, because according to Dr. Cocktail that is not negotiable. He mentions that this was a Navy drink, and perhaps with Navy strength gin it would have been better, but I have yet to acquire the Navy strength Plymouth.