Impromptus: Lupus Dei and Golden Ratio

Lupus Dei

2 oz bourbon (High West American Prairie)

1/4 oz Benedictine

1 dash Orinoco bitters

rinse reposado mezcal

1/4 oz sloe gin

Rinse serving glass with the mezcal and chill until needed. Mix bourbon, Benedictine and bitters on ice and strain into serving glass. Sink sloe gin and serve.

A campfire nose, but turns to bright spirit (the most ethereal bourbon this side of Elijah Craig 12 Year) with a slight exotic dandy twist due to the sandalwood in the bitters. The sloe emerges on later sips - blood with an oh-so British lilt of juniper finds the tongue. Not as disjointed as the pieces might suggest.

Fitting for our friend Ethan Chandler from Penny Dreadful, riffed on the classic Derby Cocktail. (ok, not quite Ethan's bowler, but close)

Next, inspired by Venus' ingress into the sign of Virgo (yeah, I know this is late, she's now in Libra), a Triple Goddess threat (wheater - Demeter, grenadine - Perspehone, Strega - Hecate) plus Aphrodite and Apollo.

Golden Ratio

1 part Drambuie/Strega (lower proof/softer herbal liqueur)

1 part grenadine

2 parts lemon juice

3 parts calvados

5 parts wheat whiskey

Shake and strain. Lemon twist garnish. Eureka! </Square1>

The grenadine doesn't take over as much here as you might think, though it's a great companion to the calvados, as those acquainted with the Jack Rose would appreciate. The wheat whiskey is reedy and blends seamlessly with calvados' fruit; the lack of rye in the mash bill for this mix is pleasant. Drambuie's honey lies in wait in the background, inoffensive but not the wrong ingredient. Choosing Strega instead adds a bit more brightness and zest.

As you might note, we've got a Fibonacci sequence of a recipe, though it's effectively just a 4-1-1 Sour ratio. Hail Venus, flower of the 5s, Mistress of the Golden Ratio!

MxMo CXVI: Irish Wake

Life's been what it is, old paths dwindling, new paths glimmering before. One's personal approach to the spirits has undergone some re-evaluation and is beginning to peek through on the other side. But the old camaraderie burns strong and bright yet, and for that you take the time - because being able to slip back into the old groove like no time had passed and the great shake-up that was 2016 never happened is not something that should have been taken for granted.

Today is the last Mixology Monday. Our ringmaster and professional cat-herder Frederic makes the final call, with the theme Irish Wake.

So it is time for the final theme, the Irish wake. The Irish wake is a funeral tradition that is a send-off that begins at the time of death until the body is handed over to the church. It is viewed as a crucial part of the grieving process. My first Irish wake was a little over a year ago when Boston barman Ryan McGrale met his untimely demise. While the wake part with the family was sober, the mourning process with the Boston bartenders and the New York City ones who traveled up was most certainly not. Irish whiskey flowed. I remember getting home and wondering why my key would not work and I considered sleeping in the garage. Turns out, it was the wrong key on my key ring and it took awhile to figure that out. So what better way to celebrate the life and times of Mixology Monday and its 11 year run as the premiere "monthly online cocktail party" than with Irish whiskey.

For this theme, the approach is two fold. You can go traditional and generate or uncover a cocktail recipe calling for Irish whiskey. Alternatively, you can talk about a personal moment either where  Irish whiskey played a role in life or where drinks in general helped the grieving process. Such stories were actually rather cool for MxMo 41 "Vodka is Your Friend," so there is precedent for that, but it's not like we can break Mixology Monday for future events by straying from the rules.

Follow the link here to see the round-up for how everyone else took the time to salute.


It's been my experience that one happens upon certain communities during the course of one's wanderings in life, where your own interests intersect others' in such a way that the whole is far greater than the sum of the parts. Usually it's a confluence of an objective topic like a fandom or other source of geekery burning so bright that all the best naturally gravitate like moths to that siren fire call: X-Files on wbs.net back in the day, the Whedonverse or comics on AICN during the 'naughts, cocktails on Twitter during the Great Cocktail Renaissance for the past decade or more.

Feu-de-Vie didn't start up in time to participate during Paul Clarke's tenure, but by the time Fred Yarm took up the reins I was very well clued-in that this was the thing to do. And my was it ever. September 2012 revealed an intense count of young gun cocktail blogs with more yet to rise, and the feel of the cocktail blogosphere in general throve on rapid output from all quarters. The number of vibrant postings in a week would make your head spin. Skip participating in MxMo for the blog hit boosts - the sheer number and quality of outputs, and the sense that you were part of a community keen to the idea that "what before had been unthinkable was now both do-able and transcendable (and delicious!)" - there's no greater oxygen for a creative spirit. Put that between your cheek and gum, dadgummit.

What's more, beyond the privilege of getting to host two monthly events (Fire and Ice, natch) and generally always having my best brought out by the events, I've had the great muse-ly pleasure of inspiring others. Pineapple-squash ferris wheels aside, I'm just glad the combination of Irish whiskey and Tiki proved so appealing to encourage folks to come back to MxMo one last time. Mind, an Irish whiskey Tiki Mardi Gras/NOLA cocktail would be the ne plus ultra for this month, naturellement.

And yet, as the old maxim goes, "those who burn brightest also burn shortest." So many of those young guns faded before too long. Cocktail blogging is a difficult enough endeavor, even if one has a plan to balance recipe development and output with moderation and self-care. And, alas, we (and our livers) all do get older and life does have a way of getting in the way. Take it from someone who's struggling with senses of imminent turning points of late and whose other Piscean pursuits also include astrology - there's literally something in the stars happening right now; we're in a year characterized by Uranus, planet of radical unexpected change. The Cocktail Renaissance moment has passed; it's mellowed and in the process of maturation. There's still plenty of room for new recipes and ideas, but, man, would I love to see everyone's recipes get some re-love and appreciation rather than be lost to the ether. For all the joy and fire shared during the best of times, as MxMo rests I do hope our fellowship continues.

So, a toast is in order for all the Mixology Mondays of the past, and those One True dreams of a distant future when the cocktail renaissance may yet be needed and come again.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for some comfort food.

Cinnamon Toast Old Fashioned

2 1/4 oz butter-washed Irish whiskey (Writer's Tears)

3/4 oz cinnamon syrup

3 dashes bitters (Fee Bros Whiskey-Barrel-Aged OF bitters)

cinnamon stick & cinnamon-sugar toastette for garnish

Stir with light ice and strain over a big rock. Garnish.

The cinnamon syrup is 1:1 syrup following JFL's method.

The infusion uses Don Lee's method for the Cinema Highball (also in the PDT recipe book) - make sure you're using clarified *unsalted* butter (no need for popcorn).


Pretty much exactly in-line flavor-wise. You could probably split hairs with the ratio to suit your taste, but 3 spirit : 1 sweet : 1 dash bitters produces a rich, sweet full mouthfeel that is immistakeable for real cinnamon toast. You might be able to dial down the sweet by subbing some cinnamon tincture or adding a neutral bitters like Abbott's or Boker's, but you also have to keep a tastebud open to what whiskey you're infusing. High-quality Writer's Tears, apart from being a classy way to send off our beloved (please do NOT scold on infusing such a dram - I KNOW I know..), has a distinct full body to it, which only enhances the overall cocktail.

Yes, Writer's Tears is a rich dram. Yes, we're loading it with butter also. Such occasions call for decadence like this.


Much love to all participants and hosts past and present, and especial gratitude to Paul Clarke and Fred Yarm for keeping the torch burning as long as it has. I'm grateful for the luck of sharing such a bright moment with you all, pushing boundaries and sharing in mutual bedazzlement. May your paths run true, and may ours cross yet again in the future, for a drink or two!


And, for the future, keep an eye out. We might just get back into the swing of things enough to get some settled recipes published. [Boomer: Stay tuned...]

Ducklings and Mother Duck

Hour 1: Make way for ducklings! Gee, there sure are a lot of you little ones..

Hour 2: You really don't stop, do you? Just one big long line of ducklings as far as the eyes can see..

Hour 5: Any of you guys want some Rice Krispies? Y'know, just hang out for awhile instead of waddling for miles? And really now, where are your mothers?!

Day 8: *a passerby has stopped to marvel at the balsa wood staircases and platforms, directing the endless line of ducklings in almost-Escher-like ways, though ultimately never distracting them long from their course. Miniature red and white umbrellas can be seen discarded at various junctures*

"Did these guys do all that?"

Heh, that would've been nice. I gave up on playing Lemmings when I ran out of materials. Now I'm trying to come up with a Rube Goldberg machine made entirely out of ducklings.

Day 14: *the line of ducklings has slowed. The few continuing on bounce up every now and again as the earth rumbles* *morning stretch* Gooood mornin', chickie-kids. What's the latest? *the sky dims* *looks up* *blink blink*

QUACK.        QUACK.

It's the Mother Load!


*ducks*


Duckling shots

1 part Advocaat
1 part pear soda

Add the (chilled) pear soda to your shot glasses first, followed by the advocaat - this way the advocaat will integrate better and not stick to the glasses as much. Give the shots a stir with a chopstick if you like; the advocaat should suppress loss of fizz. The pear soda gives the shot a refreshing dryness without being too sweet. Pear nectar tends to be sweet overkill, and the soda's fizz matches the aquatic nature of the bird - it makes me think of a duckling ruffling itself and shaking its tail.

Wondering where to find pear soda? I was too, for over a week! I went been to nearly 10 grocery stores, farmers' markets and convenience stores before lucking out. The duck gods must've wanted me to work for it, or maybe they just wanted me to pick up some lingonberry preserves. Yes, that's right, I found my pear soda at, of all places, IKEA (16.9oz cans ready in their food goods refrigerated section). Quite tasty, a developed flavor with some dryness. In case you don't have in IKEA nearby, though, try perhaps a Whole Foods, which typically, most weeks, carries the Kristian Regale brand (also Swedish, which gave me the idea to check IKEA). Beyond that, a local grocery store might carry R.W. Knudsen's Sparkling Pear, or check a store like Home Goods or TJ Maxx to see what indie brands they might have.

It all started with the Fluffy Duck, and the Advocaat/egg-related spring animal ideas inspired by it: baby birds that is, hence shooters. But, there was more space to do regular cocktails beyond the shooters, so it made sense to "mature" the shots into fully-fledged cocktails. To follow the pre-established pattern, apricot was the flavor of choice for Chicks and Mother Hen, so for Ducklings and Mother Duck we have fizzy pear (because, quite frankly, ducks are pear-shaped!).

To gussy up Mama Duck, we have a cocktail with pear eau-de-vie, Aquackvit, and Tuaquack:

For this cocktail, tip duck over
and pour her out.

Mother Duck
1 oz green tea-infused aquavit
1 oz pear eau-de-vie
1/2 oz dry vermouth
1/4 oz Tuaca
1 drop aromatic bitters
1 1/2 oz San Pellegrino
dill sprig

Stir first five ingredients with a couple of ice cubes to dilute and chill, then strain into a sherry copita or cocktail glass.

Top with an ounce and a half of San Pellegrino (the minerality is a good accent here).

Garnish with a dill sprig.

Green tea infused aquavit: 1 teabag green tea, 1/2 cup aquavit, 45 minutes, no shaking. [updated to include]


In all, Mother Duck is drier, more savory, and less ruffled than Mother Hen. The green tea Aquavit adds a mellow substantiveness and combines seemlessly with the pear eau-de-vie, with a sense of smoothness imparted by the Tuaca's vanilla. The flavor reminds me of rustic woodlands and the coloration of Mama Mallard up above, right down to the dill-like clump of algae you might see her nibbling.

The visual of dill in a cocktail drew me to aquavit, in my case to caraway and anise-infused Krogstad based on availability and potential use of dill in its botanicals. Any type of aquavit would probably work well here, not just one with dill: aquavit's savory characteristics are what's important. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention my dill-in-cocktails-full-stop inspiration: the beautiful Freeside from Cocktail Democracy, with a wonderful bit on general cocktail inspiration at that.

On the aromatic bitters: since these duck recipes are trending Scandinavian, Swedish bitters would be a nice touch. If you don't have those, Angostura, Urban Moonshine or Fee's Old Fashioned would do in a pinch. Just a little something earthy, dark, and diffuse in flavors to help balance the Tuaca and pear eau-de-vie -- being mindful that the cocktail is somewhat delicate in flavor and too much shows up fast.

That said, I'm not entirely wedded to the dry vermouth lengthener, but availability of dry quinquinas or gentian aperitifs is sparse around these parts. I used Vya Extra Dry, which imparts a nice rustic herbal quality in keeping with theme, though I'd be curious how an aperitif wine like Suze might work (perhaps omit the bitters here?).


In short: this ain't your mother's Taiwan Duck Fart, nuh-uh.


[Stay tuned, dear readers (and when I say that, I mean later this afternoon!). The last two weeks have been a royal whumping both at work and for my recipe schedule here. We're going to try to fix that, starting now and for the rest of the month of April. There's a MxMo coming up and the My Favorite Things and Ti(n)sanity series require their monthly updates, among other items.]

Chicks and Mother Hen

You never know what you might find on an Easter egg hunt..

Would you believe that I've been sitting on these recipe ideas for over a year? (and I won't repeat that often, but from here on out it's quite possible an idea got triaged from an earlier year, just for time, scheduling and resources) Frankly, it's about darn time these chicks hatched!

In this case, I had a very late special order of advocaat -- a brandy-based egg custard liqueur that's a traditional digestif in the Netherlands -- to contend with. Naturally, it's especially popular around Eastertime, though I'm somewhat surprised more hasn't been done with that angle. There's a Fluffy Duck recipe (more on that later in the week), but that's as close as advocaat gets to an Easter theme. So let's change that, and give you an option a little more naturally-flavored than Peeps.


Chick shots
1 part Advocaat
1 part apricot nectar*

Depending on how many shots you're making, add a cube or two of ice to the shaker along with the 2 ingredients, to help agitate. Shake and pour into shotglasses. Shoot these little low-alcohol sweet eggy bursts of yumminess to your heart's content!

*seriously, don't fret about using the canned stuff. You'll be lucky enough to find non-cardboard-tasting apricots in peak season in late summer, let alone at Easter time. Any store taking the chance of stocking apricot nectar will stock decent stuff for our purposes here. Besides, when mixing with advocaat, all we really want is sweetness and a bit of flavor.

But now then, now that we have the baby recipe down, what say we find what happens when baby loses its fresh-from-the-egg qualities and grows up?

Mother Hen

1 1/2 oz bourbon
1 oz dry-ish madeira (sercial or verdelho)
3/4 oz apricot brandy
2 dashes Dandelion & Burdock bitters
1 dash aromatic bitters

Stir all on ice and strain into a chilled cocktail coupe. Garnish with a brandied apricot.

On what I used: Bulleit bourbon; Blandy's 5yr Verdelho; homemade apricot brandy (from the recipe at bottom here) using Remy Martin VSOP, from which I obtained my garnish; and Fee Bros. Old-Fashioned Aromatic bitters (careful on this: it's easy to overdo with the angostura bark notes). If without homemade apricot brandy with the apricots still in to use as garnishes, try simmering some dried apricots in brandy until slightly darker and plump, about half an hour or so.

If you want to work the full Hen pun glory, use the Kickin' Chicken itself, Wild Turkey 81 bourbon (yes, 81 and not 101: females are smaller than males) plus use Hennessy for the apricot brandy. Madei- is already close to Madre, so the fortified wine's covered.

The bourbon sets the tone with the apricot brandy's fruit notes (passionfruit and apricot) prominent, with the acidity of the Madeira rounding the edge and the bitters' savory, warm spice and barnyard notes providing texture and depth (barnyard as in straw and hay, not that dressed-up tasting note for manure - I almost used this combo for the Bull's Meadow, there's something wonderfully pastoral about it). I can't comment on brands of apricot brandy, but I found my homemade apricot brandy (using Sun-Maid dried Mediterranean apricots) led with big notes of passionfruit -- a fitting connection to Easter, natch.

In all, you get some down-home on the farm with the bourbon, some Sunday aperitif with the Madeira, and a light sweet warmth from the apricot brandy, with some spice and mussed feathers thrown in for good measure.

Happy Easter!

Karya

Pottery Barn, in case you were wondering.

Karya

1 1/2 oz Dad's Hat rye whiskey
1 oz Lillet Rose
1/2 oz walnut liqueur (Nux Alpina or other nocino)
1 barspoon hazelnut orgeat with rose water 
1 dash Urban Moonshine original bitters
3 hazelnuts - garnish

Stir all ingredients on ice.

Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and float three roasted hazelnuts.

(in an ideal time- and budget-friendly world, this glass would be the best serving vessel, albeit perhaps wood instead of pewter)


Greeted with roast hazelnut on the nose, the rye first meets your tongue, which fades to Lillet's satin ribbons drawing you down into the combined dark depth of walnut liqueur and subtle rich and warming sweetness of the orgeat, the faintest hint of herbal bitter from liqueur and bitters dusting your tongue at the end. At other times, the rye and amaro-like nocino take up on an adventure, leaving the rose-hinted ladies lounging on pillows back at the ranch.

A girl with an innocent, reedy sweetness and a rough and tumble divinity.




Such is the fortuity of circumstance, I bought Dad's Hat around the time I also stocked Lillet Rose, and after an unsuccessful Manhattan I was searching for a better pairing than sweet vermouth. A drifting What If? flavor association passed through my mind: the rye's tangy wood note was very similar in quality to Lillet Rose. And when put together: what a match! Lillet extends that note and folds it into her bosom, velvetly masking what otherwise might have jutted out, while the rye's overall wood/orchard quality remains.

Now, this was a good start: a partial cocktail somewhere along the lines of a Manhattan with whiskey and aromatized wine. Extensions to that model typically add bitters or splashes of amari or liqueur. I played around with some bitters and some Tia Maria: both the rye and Lillet floated a bit and needed something to bring depth. The Tia Maria wasn't bad, if a bit sweet, maybe a touch too dark, which blunted some of the drink's nuance. Galliano Ristretto (the espresso liqueur) might be a better option if going in a coffee direction - I don't know for sure, PA doesn't carry it, but everything I've read suggests it's drier/bitterer. But something in a general coffee/nut direction made sense.

At this point I pulled back to see if the ingredients could tell me where exactly to go. The woodiness of Dad's Hat and the essential femininity of Lillet Rose were what dominated my mind, and that pulled me to my catch-all source of inspiration: Greek mythology. Specifically, dryads or hamadryads, nymphs that were the spirits of trees. Even more specifically, Karya, hamadryad of walnut/hazelnut trees (the only noted dryad of nut trees at all), sharing the same root as Karyatid.

Worked for me. I had wanted to get a bottle of nocino in for some time: walnut liqueur - how offbeat and undercelebrated an ingredient that could be! Even better: upon further researching its character, reviews indicated a rich, dark, port-like or coffee-like flavor with herbals. Perfect. I was already in that neighborhood and the complexity would be the right addition. (I had also considered Pisa at this juncture, but rejected it because it included pistachio, which, considering the time frame of the mythology, was squarely a Persian and not Greek nut - blasphemy!)

After a wee bit of drama and catching the PLCB on a good day when I could special-order a single bottle (not 5 or 6), the Nux Alpina came in and proved a good choice. The drink was still on the thin side, however, and perhaps needed a touch of sweetness. Frangelico proved too one-note and over-sweet - again with the flavor-blunting. I must've seen a mention of it on Twitter, but hazelnut orgeat (with a touch of rose water that would befriend Lillet Rose) ended up being the last major building block. The hazelnut and walnut merged into one great uber-nut accent while not overwhelming the base flavors - I'd like to think it gets at the point of Karya herself, as the Greeks didn't distinguish between walnuts and hazelnuts.

With the addition of the orgeat, the cocktail took on a rich, robust body, which, with its new sweetness, was a touch much. ...there's a relevant undercurrent to my thought-process here, but it's a little difficult to thoroughly elaborate without turning this post into (more of) an e-book. I had initially wanted to finish this recipe for the month of Virgo: there's an early-autumnal quality to the Dad's Hat with its orchard notes and I associate nuts, particularly the beige hazelnut, with Virgo - beige in general is Virgoan and appropriate to earliest fall when the nuts fall but things have not yet begun darkening. Lillet's mildness also fits well here (you could argue the recipe is best for the cusp between Virgo and Venus-ruled Libra, even). In order to manage the orgeat's richness, I followed that undercurrent and opted for bitters best suited to health-minded Virgo, namely Urban Moonshine. The bitters' no-nonsense astringency dialed back the richness just right, and their flavor fits the Dad's Hat well. Where I've seen Urban Moonshine bitters pop up in cocktail recipes thus far, it's been their maple bitters (a great unique - and autumnal - flavor); I opted for the original because I didn't want to muddle the wood notes already present.

Have I mentioned yet that Virgo is an especially cerebral and exacting zodiac sign? (not my sun sign, although..)