Chimaera

This little ditty was a work-in-progress ever since I got my first bottle of Dubonnet Rouge for Bucentaure development back in 2012. The thought-process behind this one was simple, but tricky: pick a spirit from random locales around the world that wouldn't automatically be thought-of together -- then make them work. Is it a Manhattan? A Caipirinha? A genetic freak? Something more? A Man-pirin-tan? A Cai-hat-ha? A Cai-Ma-rinha?

Chimaera
3/4 oz rye whiskey (Rittenhouse)
3/4 oz cachaça (51)
3/4 oz Dubonnet Rouge
1/4 oz Drambuie
1/4 oz lime juice (fat)
3 dashes Fernet Branca
kumquat garnish

Shake. Strain. Garnish.

Golden herbs, bitter zesty roots, fresh cherries, and perhaps a touch of grass/petrol or chocolate waft from the glass.

On the tongue, one finds rye spice and cachaça petrol in equal measure, fruitiness with lime and Dubonnet, and swirling smoke underneath menthol-like grass. A golden Caipi, with undercurrents of Manhattan.





One thing I discovered while developing Secret Agent Manhattan is that Rittenhouse Rye (100pf) is its own unique beast, and it's tricky to do substitutions for it. Chimaera was developed with Rittenhouse but in coming back to it this year (inspired by MxMo Manhattan, at that) I wanted to bolster the recipe by seeing what different ryes would do. In this drink's case, say you swap in High West Double Rye (92pf) - you'll want to add an extra quarter ounce plus an extra quarter ounce of cachaça to keep the spiritous balance. I imagine this would be the same for any sub-100pf rye you swap in. As for the cachaça? My own preference is for the rough industrial kind like 51 or Pitu, the darker petrol notes add to the randomness yet work all the same (probably transmute to dark chocolate thanks to the lime and pair with the Fernet). Something sweet-bodied like Leblon would throw the wheels off, methinks.

Homemade Usquebaugh

One late night last winter, I thought to myself: there need to be more cocktail recipes featuring plain-jane brandy: not cognac, not armagnac, not pisco: humble, common, brandy. The kind that features in old-time medicine with draughty houses and much more exposure to the elements. Just a wee nip before bed and the endless strivings of the day melt away to bring peace.

Now granted, I've learned since that it's difficult to mix with the spirit unless you want dessert drinks - its sweetness makes it difficult to achieve balance otherwise. Still, I played around in the key of orange for a few months, trying to figure a new way to take it, researching researching researching.

When I read this. Then this. And this. Then, hello, this.

Usquebaugh. Depending on who you ask, "yellow water" (for the often-added saffron) or the Gaelic uisce beatha - water of life - the same root from which we get whisk(e)y.

Now, scratch someone into mixology and you're liable to find an alchemist's outlook underneath. The power of simple things in themselves, becoming so much more in combination. The secret scientific art of knowing how to combine. Old Medicine from before the Great Dissolution. So Usquebaugh? Nope, nothing there my four elements-meditating, Dioscorides-browsing self would find utterly fascinating. Nuh-uh.

This is less of a formal recipe rather than a recording of what I did for this one batch and a hub for other resources for your own experiments. If the above-linked recipes offer any insight, it's that Usquebaugh is an entirely to-taste matter, though it's possible for you to strive for historical accuracy if you like. The general principles for Usquebaugh appear to be: brandy, dried fruit, citrus zest, baking spices, saffron (for the "yellow water" definition). Really, much like European variations on fruit cakes, anything delivered from medieval spice trading routes appears to be fair game.

Cocktailian friends: I'm kinda curious to see if anyone out there would beat me to the punch and do a barrel-aged variation - some of those old recipes do say to mix in a barrel, after all.

MoD's Usquebaugh, take 1

8 oz Rémy Martin V

33g raisins

1 date, sliced, pitted

1 peel, seville orange (approx. 6g)

2 peels, kumquat

2g stick cinnamon (approx. 1/2 stick)

3 petals star anise

1/4 tsp coriander, cracked

3 whole cloves

1 allspice berry

1 pinch saffron or dried safflower

Infuse all but the saffron in a mason jar for 10 days. Keep out of the sunlight in a dark cool cupboard and shake a few times a day. After 10 days, strain out the solids and add saffron. Infuse for 2 more days and then fine strain through a coffee filter and bottle. Stick back in the dark cool cupboard and forget about it for a few months, if not longer.


Notes:

• Albeit the spirit is young on the scene and I've only been working with it for a few months, Rémy V may be something worth swearing by - at least until it has direct competitors in the "white dog" brandy category. Brandy is the typical base spirit in Usquebaugh, and I wanted something unaged to let all the ingredients hold forth without oak influence. For that same reason the spirit is also a wonderful base for berry cordials.
• As you might notice in the recipe, I didn't include any sugar. The dried fruit contributed a fair amount of sweetness by itself, so I let it go. One downside: pectin clumping. Nothing a quick re-strain can't fix, though.
• What I'd do differently next time? I made this during my "star anise is NEAT!" phase. Not so much anymore. For this small amount of Usquebaugh, I'd limit the star anise to 1 petal, tops, and replace the remainder with cracked sweet anise seed. A little more even-keel, with classic anise notes.
• Overall, the taste reminded me a lot of Sailor Jerry. Nice.

Everything's Coming Up Roses

In honor of the Customer Service folks at KegWorks.com.

LIBATIONS!


Once upon a time, this one little muse was refining her pièce de résistance: The Rose.

2 oz Gran Centenario Rosangel reposado tequila

"Oh my, that's lovely," she thought. "But it could stand for some more acidity to enunciate the flavor. Yet I don't want to add lemon or other citrus juice.."

slightly more than 1/4 oz sweet vermouth

The muse then remembered how a few good dashes of orange bitters(Fee Bros., for those wondering) had enhanced the acidity of another cocktail just that week. "To the interwebs!" she cried. For, you see, this muse lived in a land where the spirits were not permitted to roam free at market, and the little bitters which had once frolicked under moonshine with the spirits and cordials, instead dashed away in fright. But, she knew where beyond the borderlands she could obtain them. A few clicks and a tacka-tacka-tacka later, the lemon bitters she so craved for her recipe, as well a host of other bitters to accompany, had mounted up and set off on a perilous quest to her doorstep.

slightly less than 1/4 oz dry vermouth

They made quick work - not even 4 whole days had passed when the muse found them squatting on her stairs. She eagerly took them in and helped remove their journey-wear, but as she did, she studied one's label. "I don't think I ordered you," the muse said.

one dash Grapefruit bitters, Fee Bros.
"Well, um, we had an incident along the way," drawled Old-Fashioned Aromatic.

"Yeah," piped Mint, "we were accosted by a rampaging Kumquat Beast. Y'know, the kind that eat bark and make weird faces?"

"It took Lemon!" exclaimed a glum Plum.

"But not to worry," said Gary Regan (a big No. 6 around his neck). "I sent word back and they've sent out a search party. Lemon's a good'un. Just you wait and see."

"Okay," nodded she. "But where'd you find this guy then?" setting Grapefruit down, who, up until this point, had been waiting patiently in her hand while broadly clenching his teeth in something resembling a smile, but now began to inch towards the liquor cabinet while muttering in a pirate-like accent.

"Facing off against another Kumquat Beast," offered Old-Fashioned Aromatic. "Was bruisin' it mighty fierce when we showed up." ["To win against the enemy, you must be-Kumquat the enemy! Arr..!"] "We figured we should keep the funky wild-bitter close after Lemon.."

"Arr, ye swabby dogs! Moisten the decks and.."

"Ooh-kay then..", said the muse. "We'll just hang tight until we find out about Lemon."


They did not, in fact, have to wait long at all, just a weekend (and a good thing too. Grapefruit had quickly picked a fight with Sailor Jerry then paired up with the bottle of vodka in the muse's cabinet Saturday night and was now asking her to get some cranberry juice in to "make it a Trio"). On noon of that Monday, a grizzled but quite intact bottle walked through the front door.

one dash Lemon bitters, Fee Bros.

Carrying the smiling head of the Kumquat Beast on a stick.

Everyone gasped. ["Ah thinka maya squirted a wee bit!" "You're a bottle of bitters, you're supposed to do that!" "Since when did you go Scottish, mate?" "Go wash up, you'll feel fresca."]

"Lemon! You made it! What happened?" said Mint.

"Well, after the beast got me, he dragged me back to his lair. I don't even want to think about his plans for me. When I awoke, he was in an argument with his mother-in-law. Apparently his name is Pietro. After she left, I zinged him good."

"But wait, you did this all by yourself? We sent the Bittermens after you!" cried Gary Regan.

"Oh, I met up with them after. I imagine they're off to the next big thing by now."

"And," said Lemon, turning towards the muse. "They say you should keep Grapefruit. Between the two of us, you'll never have to worry about Kumquat Beasts."

"You know," the muse said, proudly looking around at her new acquisitions. "I think we can do something quite nice with all of you..."

Everything's Coming Up Roses
2 oz Gran Centenario Rosangel reposado tequila
slightly more than 1/4 oz sweet vermouth
slightly less than 1/4 oz dry vermouth
one dash Grapefruit bitters, Fee Bros.
one dash Lemon bitters, Fee Bros.


Shake on ice until quite cold.
Strain into chilled cocktail glass.
Garnish with the head of Pietro the Smiley-Faced Kumquat Beast on a pike.
Savor the bouquet.

(NOTE: Pietro, the Smiley-Faced Kumquat, isn't just a fun visual. The complex citrus and spice oils he imparts are a surprisingly good match for the resulting drink. No worries if you don't want to do his clove-eyes and cinnamon-stick mouth. You can still flame his head if you prefer.)

I can't start posting recipes on here without first properly thanking the crew at KegWorks for that small bit of generosity and their help with the order mix-up - call me naïve of business practices, but I was expecting to exchange the grapefruit bitters back rather than keep them. In light of that, I offer you this aromatic bouquet in thanks. As with the original order, it's not quite perfect, but I really like how it turned out in the end. Cheers!

Never underestimate what a good set of bitters can do!