Grandeur of the Season

Herald trumpets,
Holly berries,
Pine needles,
Spice cake,
Bright Christmas oranges,
And glass jewels for the tree.

Grandeur of the Season

1 oz cognac

1 oz pear eau-de-vie

1 oz ruby port

1 tsp Solerno blood orange liqueur

1 tsp Campari

1 tsp crème de cassis

1 dash Pernod

2 dashes pimento bitters

festive aromatic ice sphere

Rolling ribbons and great globes of grape and orange and berry.

Anise accents.

Gentle emerging pine and spice.

Opulence for jubilant jovial occasions.

Step 1: Festive aromatic ice sphere.

Add water to an ice sphere mold.

Arrange ginger coins, cloves and rosemary sprig (a bit of orange zest and red currants also welcome).

Add top and freeze.

Step 2: Mix the cocktail

Three spirits, three liqueurs, three accents.

Batch and bottle in the fridge days ahead for parties and something even smoother.

Measure 3 1/2 ounces per serving (1/2 cup minus 1 tablespoon).

Pour over ice sphere in large balloon glass.

Swirl, take in the aromas and let dilute for 5-10 minutes.

Sip!

Step 3: ???

There's still some left in the bottle. What's next? New Year's!

Aquamarine

Aquamarine

1 1/2 oz Irish whiskey

3/4 oz bianco vermouth

1/2 oz rhum agricole blanc

1/2 oz green chartreuse

1/4 oz tequila blanco

1 bsp pear eau-de-vie

1 bsp blue curacao

2 dashes rhubarb bitters

2 dashes Bittercube Jamaican #2 bitters

Stir. Strain. No garnish.

For all the March birthdays out there, especially the Pisces. Still, I'm sorry: somehow, it tastes like a more-richly-vegetal-but-clear Shamrock Shake. Yes, I'm telling you you'll taste mint and cream, despite (because of?) the ingredients. And it's both delicious and complex!

For a long while I'd had a draft post with only the title, Aquamarine. Similarly, I've wanted to devise an Irish whiskey/cachaça recipe because the high school percussionist in me adores how Brazilian rosewood marimbas often accent Irish folk music - though that's a recipe better realized at another time. Given how I generally prefer a good rhum agricole blanc to something like Leblon, I figured I give that combo a whirl while pulling in some of my favorite early spring cocktail ingredients (fast become a trend for me): bianco vermouth, pear eau-de-vie and rhubarb bitters (in addition to Irish whiskey and rhum agricole being stars of some Ti(n)sanity posts from this time last year). Plus, some elements simply demanded inclusion, if only because of the name and that St. Paddy's Day draws nigh.

Now, I'm sure you're looking at all the ingredients above and shaking your head, because it is an obnoxious list (which would probably run you close to $200 plus a week's time for potential mail-order if you wanted to collect-bottles-from-scratch). But, I have tasted the recipe if you broke it down to base parts of whiskey, vermouth, rhum, chartreuse and rhubarb bitters - and it's only 66% there. The other small ingredients truly give a proper rounding and depth - the tequila, eau-de-vie and curacao (yes, the curacao has a flavor, it ain't vodka) add extra vegetal and fruity notes with their sweetness taming the heat from both the chartreuse and rhum, while the bitters balance out the added sweetness. And...well, there's more, but it's better developed at the next Ombudsman session.

Suffice it to say, to hell with current attitudes: elegance rocks and generally produces greatness (and the Manhattan is a supreme muse-rich cocktail, despite it being untrendy in some quarters), but a muse has gotta do what a muse has gotta do, whether it's neophyte (or even cognoscenti)-friendly or not.

For those brazen hearts who wish to take up the challenge of this drink, some notes on ingredients:

• Tullamore Dew 12 years - a dry Irish whiskey like this sets the cocktail up for success.
• Martini & Rossi - aggressive vegetality is a plus.
• Neisson - the rough, funky 100pf doesn't get lost.
• Azul - a blanco with vegetal notes is again what's best.
• Schladerer - it's an eau-de-vie we're after, not a brandy or a liqueur. Dry, but so flavor-intense it becomes sweet. Anyone else using an eau-de-vie like this for a rounding accent? I'd be happy to give a shout-out.
• Eyeball the curacao - you know what an aquamarine gem look like, so use that as your final color target.

Sláinte!

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.]

Mixology Monday, October 2012: Bein' Green

It's that time again: Mixology Monday! Thoroughly back into the swing of things, this month's shindig is hosted by Ed of Wordsmithing Pantagruel with the theme Bein' Green:

With the warm days of summer now fading off into the distance in our rear view mirrors, let's pay one last tribute to the greens of summer before the frosts come and our outdoor herb gardens give up the ghost for the winter. For our theme for this month, I have chosen: (it's not easy) "Bein' Green." (Perchance due in no small part to my predilection for Green Chartreuse.) I'm giving you a wide berth on this one, anything using a green ingredient is fair play. There's not only the aforementioned Chartreuse; how about Absinthe Verte, aka the green fairy. Or Midori, that stuff is pretty damn green. Crème de menthe? Why not? Douglas Fir eau de vie? Bring it! Apple schnapps? Uh...well...it is green. I suppose if you want to try to convince me it makes something good you can have at it. But it doesn't have to be the liquor. Limes are green. So is green tea. Don't forget the herb garden: mint, basil, cilantro, you name it - all fair game. There's also the veritable cornucopia from the farmers market: green apples, grapes, peppers, olives, celery, cucumbers...you get the idea. Like I said, wide berth. Base, mixer, and or garnish; if it's green it's good. Surprise me. Use at least one, but the more the merrier.

When active, this link will send you to the summary post of this month's festivities.

Oh goodnesses, truly, when the nights are getting down into the 30s and 40s, I'm all about the maize and apples and pumpkins and all I want to do is hibernate (a good thing in my book - we had a lousy fall 'round these parts last year). There's still plenty of greenery around, though, so all is not lost on that front. Autumn may be in full swing and the flavors may be abundant, but there's no reason why we can't invoke a summer form: the tiki cocktail.

And to up the ante: raise your hand, anyone else think "pumpkin spice" has gotten officially overblown this year? I think it's about time we give some other squashes some love. In this case, the Carnival Squash. You heard me right: harvest tiki with squash!


I need to give some big shout-outs. If it weren't for the years of hard work of these fine cocktail bloggers and others, it would be impossible for a complete Tiki novice like myself to do a crash course in the scope of about a week. I still have a ton to learn and try, but I feel like I have a decent grounding now. So, many thanks to Doug at the Pegu Blog, Jordan at Chemistry of the Cocktail, Tiare at A Mountain of Crushed Ice, Matt at RumDood, Mike at Cocktail Democracy for pointing me to PKNY's recipe menu, and particularly this one tiki-breakdown post by Joseph at Measure & Stir that started me down the path.


Fall Carnival
1 oz gold rum (I used Mount Gay Eclipse)
3/4 oz aged rum (I used Appleton Reserve)
3/4 oz pear eau-de-vie (I used Schladerer Williams Birne)
3/4 oz carnival squash syrup (recipe below)
1/2 oz hazelnut orgeat (sub orange blossom water for rose water)
3/4 oz lime juice
1/2 oz pineapple juice
1/4 oz orange juice
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash Urban Moonshine maple bitters

Blend all ingredients with 8 oz ice. Pour into a large glass and garnish with a pineapple-squash Ferris wheel and straw for sipping.

I am very green when it comes to Tiki, so please feel free to experiment with rum choices. Overall, though a less-elegant recipe than, say, a Mai Tai, when fine-blended with ice it comes off creamy and delicate. I think balance has been achieved here as far as each flavor getting its due, though it trends sweet. I toyed around a lot with the ratios, trying to pull out ingredients to simplify or pull them back to let the others shine, but the mix wasn't stomaching much alteration from the above. That said, I'd welcome any thoughts from the Tiki aficionados out there.

On the spirits: I wanted a good low/medium note rum combo to go with the pear's light notes. A dark/blackstrap seemed like too much for some of the more delicate flavors going on, so I opted for something aged - you could go even further aged than the Reserve with better results, my own spirits cabinet is just underdeveloped on rums. The gold rum's medium note holds it all together, Eclipse's dryness is good for balancing the sweet. The pear? Another way to bring in some autumn flavors.

On the syrups: Autumnal tweaks to tiki staples. We swap hazelnut for almond orgeat, and as odd as it sounds the lemon and creamy vanilla notes in the carnival squash syrup aren't too far off from passion fruit.

On the citrus: Lime is the natural match for rum and makes a better sour foundation than lemon. I added the bit of orange to help round the citrus flavors. And pineapple? Pineapple, pineapple, pineapple... This is one ingredient I thought could be cut back, but it turns out that it boosts the carnival squash flavor and gives a nice overall body to the cocktail, despite it being show-offy.

On the bitters: Autumnal flavors to help break up and point out all the other flavors going on. You don't get much of them, but they fit in and add a good finish.


I think that's about i... [backstage assistant hands her a card] Oh yeah! The theme! Well, I did use lime.. ...shakin' your head on that one, aren't you? Well, ok. How about..while I was at the farmers market a few weeks ago, poking around to see what interesting things there were, I came across these:

How do you not use these little critters for garnishes?

So...trying to figure out a name and garnish idea, the "carnival" theme seemed appropriate. And with Tiki, you've got to have extravagant garnishes..

...right? I mighta mentioned something about a pineapple-squash Ferris wheel up above.. (consider the squashes as gondolas)

Here, let me get you some other views, I know you're curious:


On the left, you can see, top-down, the pineapple core peg into which the wheels are double-skewered from both directions. The peg nestles securely in the neck of the squash-shaped glass, its woodiness sturdy enough to support the entire structure.

On the right, you can see how the gondolas on single skewers are secured: screw a (hazel)nut on the end!


Needless to say, I have a fair amount of extra pineapple juice on my hands.



So, happy harvest tiki: autumn greens, but still very much reminiscent of summer.



Carnival Squash Syrup
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup cooked/packed carnival squash*
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1/4 teaspoon powdered ginger

*¹ To cook squash: halve it from top to bottom. Remove seeds and pith. Lightly coat cut sides with butter, oil or maple syrup. Prick the hull to release steam if desired (not wholly necessary). Place cut sides down on a foil-covered cookie sheet and bake at 350 F for 30-45 minutes or until the hull has softened and squash has caramelized a little at the bottom.

Click to enlarge

² Quick note on Carnival squash: they're rather similar in appearance to Sweet Dumpling squash, but a bit bigger, so make sure to check the label. Carnival is yellow-fleshed with a lemon-vanilla character whereas Sweet Dumpling is orange-fleshed and nutty like Butternut (but less smooth).

Combine squash and water in a blender until smooth (it beats trying to purée just the squash). Add all ingredients to a small sauce pan and stir over medium heat for 5 minutes until sugar is dissolved and mixture comes together. Pull from the stove and fine strain the syrup to remove the fibrous bits you don't want to cook further. Return the syrup to the stove, bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, whisking frequently. You'll know the syrup's ready when the thickened sugar begins to collect on the sides of the pan and it's taken on the opaque/glossy appearance of vanilla pudding (but should still be pourable, like a liquid caramel sauce). Remove from heat, let cool. Pour into an air-tight container to refrigerate until ready to use. Feel free to add half an ounce of neutral spirit to fortify if you feel like (emphasis on the neutral - add something like Sailor Jerry and you really will have vanilla pudding on your hands).

In addition to this cocktail, try adding carnival squash syrup to some chai tea!


But MoD? What about all this leftover squash I have, including the purée strained out of the syrup? It's not the standard acorn, butternut or pumpkin, so what should I do with it?

Funny you should ask! Have a nummy (and festive) recipe:

Carnival Squash Mash
Pre-soak 1/2 cup craisins in pomegranate juice (or pomegranate craisins in cranberry juice, or...). Sauté a minced shallot in olive oil until translucent. Add your squash, a bit of fine lemon zest, 1/2 tsp powdered ginger, maybe a little butter if you like. Mix and mash to lumpy potato consistency. Mix in pre-soaked (and drained) craisins and serve topped with basil chiffonade. Goes well with Italian-seasoned chicken/pork and couscous.

La Primavera Nella Campagna

It's the little things that inspire. Case in point. Then there's also.. [alack, not very spirit-forward] And then there's also.. (hm!) Ok, why not?

I love Galliano. First going out to bars for after-work happy hours, I'd see that tall bottle reaching above all the other bottles on the backbar, announcing its presence, and think "I gotta see what that's like." And granted, I'm something of an intentional oddball: when everyone else is doing beer, wine or vodka, I'm the one ordering the Harvey Wallbanger (and this in the '00s when Cosmos were all the rage - alas, I wasn't born in time for the '70s). It's something of a conversation piece - it gets people pulling out their phones to google the recipe, and I like to think it pushes their boundaries.

I also like to think I had an insta-bond with Galliano, something I never came close to having with a flavored vodka or even my dear darling tequila. When I bought my first bottle this past January, at the start of my Great Cabinet Buildup (ABC should really make a show out of that..) I felt like I had finally arrived and simple dabbling was now behind me.

So Galliano became my starting point for this "ultimate spring-themed drink." Now, unfortunately, while it is a beautiful spirit, there aren't a lot of cocktails that use it. My impression: it has this prim/proper way of reeling in the flavor notes of other, lesser, ingredients under its apron, mainly due to its sweetness. However, it's this very prim/proper mannerliness which served as inspiration.

Of all things, for me, it evokes images of the French countryside, bright spring greens, roses, subtle scents of wildflowers and herbs. Tidy acres just sown with crops, small groves of trees, orderly pastoral dirt roads with slender wood fencing. A lot of that could well apply to countryside in general, but my overall first impression (because evidently we swerve back around to Italy) suggested French instead of Italian because temperate France seems more overtlymannerly with colors popping avec précision (et c'est tout!), whereas sun-drenched Italy seems a touch more languorous. And the colors get me every time: rose, soft yellow, spring green.

There was a lot of development on this drink. The brief version of it goes:

Version 1: Remy Martin V, Galliano, St. Germain, Meyer lemon (muddled, through all versions) and plum bitters. The one nagging problem with this recipe started at the very beginning: too sweet.

Version 2: Swap in Pisco as the base spirit, because that seemed like something fresh and spring-like (from what I had read). I realized I wanted a more dry aromatic thrust, so I chucked St. Germain and, head-still-firmly-in-France, added tarragon - based on research I figured it would further enhance Galliano's anise note. Also, rhubarb (rhubarb simple syrup in this version) for plum because at this point I had read plenty about how it's such a spring flavor (and it completed my aforementioned color trifecta).

I had never used Pisco, tarragon or rhubarb before, ever. The tarragon was lovely, rhubarb had a nice flavor but syrup made things too sweet, and ye gods, Pisco! The South Americans do this wild petrol-note to their spirits that makes me imagine cold-steel Transformers rising from the Andes with slanted top hats and voices like crushing garbage cans, and I love it! But in a more delicate cocktail like this...your mouth goes numb.

Version 3 is largely what you see below. Fixing the Pisco problem...I'm not a big fan of pears as fruit or flavor, so when I saw this tweetin my feed awhile back, it stuck in my mental mixology toolbox.

Version 4: still dealing with the sweetness problem, I came across this blog post from Chuck Taggart - exactly what I needed. Testing at my office suggested the add of San Pellegrino balanced the drink just right (over straight and diet tonic water versions).

In short, kudos to all the gents who helped in the development. I'm much obliged. Without further adieu, the final version:


La Primavera nella Campagna
1 oz pear eau-de-vie
1 oz vodka
1/2 oz Galliano l'autentico liqueur
1/2 Meyer lemon, quartered
1 inch of rhubarb, cut into muddling pieces
1 moderately frilly sprig tarragon, picked into smaller sprigs
3 dashes rhubarb bitters
San Pellegrino or club soda

1 Meyer lemon twist for garnish (hold off cutting until indicated)

Muddle the rhubarb, lemon, and bitters in a shaker until broken down. Given the small amount of rhubarb, you may want to muddle it alone first before adding the lemon. Sprinkle a Tinkerbell-sized amount of sugar on the lemon to help abrade.

Spank the tarragon like the naughty-but-shy vixen it is. Add. Lightly muddle/stir in.

Add a few lumps of ice, vodka, eau-de-vie, and Galliano. Shake 15-20 seconds.

At this point, put the shaker down and cut the lemon twist garnish (and twirl 'round a chopstick or similar for a tight spiral). It's probably more efficient to do this as prep beforehand, but it wouldn't hurt for the drink to sit a moment to further draw out the flavors from the fresh ingredients and encourage melding.

Once the garnish is prepped, half-fill a Collins glass with ice (I'm using large 1"+ cubes here). Shake the drink an additional 5-10 seconds to wake it up, then pour all into the glass. Finish adding ice to the glass, then top with San Pellegrino. Use a straw to stir and help anchor the lemon twist in the drink.

Final notes:

• The flavor is light but intense for what it is, and while you can identify where different pieces originate, they all meld into something emergent.
• As you might notice, the predominance of Italian ingredients (Galliano, San Pellegrino) pushed the name to Italian. Italians also aren't strangers to either rhubarb (Nardini makes Rabarbaro, a rhubarb amaro, and there are a handful of restaurants named "Rabarbaro" in Tuscany) or tarragon (a notable herb in Tuscan cooking).
  
  Theoretically, pear eau-de-vie may not be a stranger to Northern Italy, with its culture and climate closer to middle-Europe, but I can't find find an example after googling (Poire Williams is more native to Switzerland and France, and I used Schladerer's Williams Birne in testing). Meyer lemons, while native to California, do pop up in plenty of Italian-style recipes, per Google.
• After the fact, I half-wonder what dry vermouth (or maybe Lillet) would do in place of the vodka. But, for another time - I'm done tested out.
• Do be cautious with this one. You don't taste the alcohol, but it does sneak up on you pretty quick.