Absinthe Revival on the way

I remember the first time I had absinthe very clearly. Wait, let me correct that. The first time I remember having absinthe is very clear:

Sitting in a bar in South Africa a large bartender with dreadlocks responded to my query for a good strong cocktail with "I'll make you my personal invention, a flaming goblin." He then proceeded to pour a shot of absinthe and a few dashes of a dark but aromatic high proof liqueur into a shot glass, light it on fire and toss it back - just to show me how it worked. Four or five hours and twice as many Flaming Goblins later, I had a new favorite bar in Jo'Burg.

A few years ago, when the laws in the US changed to make absinthe legal again (see this comprehensive Salon article), I investigated getting a bottle. But with prices what they are, I have no desire to buy a 60$ bottle lacking thujone.

In the end though, I think good absinthe is on the way soon. This week France finally lifted the last part of the 100 year ban and allowed Absinthe to be called Absinthe again. A dash of absinthe figures prominently in many historical cocktails, and for good reason. While a cup (even properly prepared) of absinthe can be difficult to approach, the depth and finish it can add to a carefully crafted cocktail is invaluable.


Redface Tip:
Check your local liquor store - I've only ever found this in one particular store in NJ - but if you are lucky enough it might be locally available. I know I pay $22-$24 for it.

Also, check out FKR's article on the Return of the Green Fairy

Barware - Citrus Squeezer

I recently bought my own hand juicer. For several years, I've always just used a knife and my hand to squeeze out the juice whenever I need fresh lemon or lime. I don't mind washing off the juice, and I enjoy the tactile aspect of squeezing fresh juice for a cocktail.

Recently, however, I have been using a borrowed glass juicer. While it is easier to get the juice out of the lemon/lime, in the end it works less well. I never used to worry about pulp - which is one requirement of not using a juicer, you must be okay with suspicious floaties in your final concoction. However, as I have played around some with the texture of various cocktails (see Demon of Destiny for example), I sometimes want to strain out all of the pulp.
With the glass one I am borrowing, that poses quite a task. I use the barspoon to lift out the bigger bits, and then try to strain it through the spoon as I pour into a shotglass to measure. I usually wind up with either a sticky counter or no idea how much juice I put in.

This hand juicer gives me the satisfaction of squeezing the crap out of something - and yet the juice just pours right out, free of pulp. I hold it right over my jigger, squeeze, and then pour into the mixing glass. It's as easy as that.

If you run across one of these and you don't currently have a juicer of any sort, it's a good purchase - I got mine for $10, not the $13.99 + shipping on Amazon. Happy mixing!

Summertime Drinks

Sometime each spring there comes a day where everything idyllic about nature jumps into action.  The 65º heat combines with the returning sun to make for an afternoon that seems to stretch on until the wee hours. 

I have never been good at making drinks for that moment and the moments like it all summer long.  Maybe it's my love for bourbon, and maybe it's my background in White Russians, who knows.  I can't use the bourbon excuse because of the fabled mint julep, so I guess I'll have to go with the milk defense.  Sometime late this spring, just before I went away for the summer on various adventures, I decided that I wouldn't let fall arrive until I'd become at least passable at making frozen cocktails. 

This post isn't about my Daquiris - though they've gotten pretty good, they're still too simple for me to claim they're ready for some choice recipes.  This is about goal setting.  In order to be successful, you have to set goals, and then attempt to reach them.  Set big goals, small goals, and stupid goals.  In this case, I refer not to the self-help shtick, but to bar-tending and cocktail officianadoing. 

While my frozen cocktails are a long way from my top mixing skill, I can now put together a successful margarita, daiquiri, and frozen cooler using pretty much any spirit/fruit base.  It won't be the most inventive or nameable concoction, but it will be cold, delicious, and alcoholic.

My advice to you: go buy that bottle of whatever you've had in the back of your mind for years to try making, do some recipe trolling on google, and try a few recipes.  It's easier than you think.  Plus, if you spring $2-3 for some fresh citrus, it'll taste good almost no matter what you make :-)

From the Lab

At a party, most people see a bunch of liquor bottles and immediately clam up.  They resort quickly to shorthand recipes that taste mediocre no matter the quality of the ingredients.  Rum and Coke, Jack and Coke, Gin and Juice, Screwdriver, you get the idea.  None of these drinks will ever win a cocktail competition, but they will rule a party. 

Last weekend - before I sang a raucous ballad to the porcelain goddess - I was happy to observe this phenomenon in action.  With a beautiful menu, and a quite good spread of liquors at the party, I watched people prepare exclusively comfort cocktails that they knew.  I think most people would be much happier behind the bar if they just relaxed and realized that they can never make a drink as bad as the bankers drinks they had freshman year of college.  If people realized that - they might be a little less risk adverse when faced with the difficult task of constructing a cocktail given an unfamiliar liquor spread. 

With that in mind, here is a drink I just came up with a few minutes ago.  It stinks.

Curdled Juice:
Muddled Mango Pieces That Need to be Eaten Before They Go Bad
3 oz English Dry Gin
1 Dash Fee Brothers Orange Bitters
1/2 Tsp Raw Agave Syrup
1 1/2 oz Dubonnet Blanc

Shake and strain into small snifter.

Yuck.  The muddled mango and bitters gives it the complexion of curdled orange juice, while the dry gin and dubonnet are sour together without any positive interactions.  While I surmise the drink might have been less bad with a half ounce or so of fresh lemon juice,  I think I'll be inventing a new category of failed drinks to accompany "Dishwater" - "Curdled."

For every moderately good recipe someone comes up with, there are usually a half a dozen ones that rate only a hair above "double shot of bankers with a pilfered fountain drink chaser."  So next time you see a party spread, take heart, pour a crappy but creative drink, and if worst comes to worst, pawn it off on the drunkest guy in the room, they'll appreciate the kindness of a delivered cocktail as they swill it down.

Redface Classics - Slickheel Lemonade

"Slickheel Lemonade - The Bringer of Life"

Anyone who has hosted a number of parties will know that there is a familiar flow to an evening.  It is the host's job, among other things, to manage and at times direct that flow.  One of the most potent weapons in my arsenal, if not the most potent weapon besides music or a full fridge, is the Slickheel Lemonade.  Many stories are bandied about on the topic of the Slickheel, and they should be - it is a booze-packed beverage that tastes like a frothy fresh lemonade.

Few can withstand its pull, and even seasoned drinkers have been known to be felled by two or three of these.  As the man behind the bar, I have often had occasion to mix these up by the dozen at the beginning of the night, knowing full well that by midnight, time will start its familiar whirlwind, leaving behind a room that could easily have housed a herd of wild animals and not a party.

I must confess that I went nearly a year without a Slickheel Lemonade until last weekend.  Upon inhaling its familiar and unique scent, and then watching as my vision warped somewhere in the middle of my second drink, I remembered the Slickheel's power.


So wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I ask you to raise your glass or nod your head, in silent respect for the Slickheel Lemonade.