A Day of Rosiness - Midday Tincture

That's right, it's time for the second installment of rosy drinks to get you through the day. Hopefully your Morning Effusion has put you in a perfect place to appreciate your very own Midday Tincture:

This drink started its life as a Rosy Deacon, but quickly morphed into something different. At first taste, the Rosy Deacon is a little jarring to me. The gin and grapefruit juice certainly pair nicely, but the sloe gin is too sweet and thick in your mouth and throat. Instead of leaving you hungry for more, it almost makes you want to - gasp - clear your mouth with some water.

Rosy Deacon
3/4 oz Gin
3/4 oz Sloe Gin
1 oz Grapefruit Juice
Sugar to Taste

Rosy Deacon (Try 2)
1 oz gin
1/2 oz Sloe Gin
1 oz Grapefruit Juice
Sugar

For the second try, I went with frosting the glass with sugar rather than actually mixing any into the drink, as the original was more than a little too sweet. This one was better, but still not a cocktail I'd recommend. I liked the dryness of the grapefruit juice, but since I know I won't usually have grapefruit juice on hand, I tried out a new recipe that substitutes vermouth for the fruit juice. The result is a cocktail I could happily drink to keep me Rosy.

Rosy Layman
1 oz Gin
1/2 oz Dry Vermouth
1/2 oz Sloe Gin
1/4 oz Grenadine Syrup
Sugar

Once again, I frosted the glass with sugar, which was very successful. The Rosy Layman has a sour taste, but the sugar from the rim sweetens it up just a little bit. The combination of dry vermouth and gin are crisp enough that they cut through both the sloe and the grenadine. I was a little afraid that this would be little more than a gin martini, as the scent when I make it is very similar. That ended up being a totally unnecessary worry, and the Layman is its own beast.

Until Alpenglow, stay rosy.

Palative Potables - Outraged

Now, to be perfectly honest, I turn to the Dry Gin Martini frequently, for a variety of reasons, and even when I have no particular reason.  However, there is at least one occasion in particular when I turn to the dry gin martini - when I am pissed off.

A dry martini doesn't mess around.  It doesn't compromise, and it doesn't hide.  A dry martini has few ingredients - and they are both easy to find.  You can make as many different dry martinis as there are gins, dry vermouths, and ratios between the two.  When you drink a dry martini, it takes about as much from you as you take from it.

A Martini Moment

When I am angry and need to clear my head, I often turn to a dry martini.  It's no-nonsense complexion demands my attention at the same time that it oils my gears.  No matter how sour the thoughts on my mind, the cutting combination of dry spiced wine and London Dry Gin will force me to grimace and grin in a way that only the martini-drinkers of the world will understand.

My personal dry gin martini recipe (I am playing around with the classic touch of adding orange bitters, give it a try)

Redface's Personal Dry Gin Martini
5 parts London Dry Gin
1 part dry vermouth

Place 4-5 ice cubes in shaker, 3-4 cubes in a small cocktail glass.  Add the dry vermouth (or add a full shot and then strain it, your call) and the gin.  Shake three times lightly.  Slowly and deliberately double strain the martini into the cocktail glass (discard the ice obviously from the glass).  Add no garnish.  Gripping the glass fervently by its stem, think angry thoughts and then snarl into the glass as you suck in a full first sip.

Satanic Cocktails - 吃 火 魔鬼

This installment of Satanic Cocktails is the Meehouland - The Fire Eating Devil.

吃 火 魔鬼
1 1/2 oz Sloe Gin
1/2 oz Sweet Vermouth
1/2 oz Dry Vermouth
1 Dash Orange Bitters
Lime Wedge


Stir and strain.

I would suggest that you pour this into a thin, curvaceous glass, rather than a more angular glass like a rocks glass.    I'm not sure about the taste, because of the Sloe Gin, it has that sticky sweetness that a fake colored liqueur gives, and it stays coloring the glass.  I've come to love the effect perfect vermouth has on most simple liquor mixtures.  I'm glad my distaste for dry vermouth in my martinis (which endures) did not prevent me from learning to love vermouth in all sorts of cocktails.

A Short Slide Into Jerry Thomas Territory

Now, admittedly, mixed drinks are not paintings, sculptures, novels, or poems.  They are disposable and, frankly, not a little bit disreputable, standing roughly in the same relation to the culinary arts that American motor sports do to automotive engineering or hot jazz to musical composition: they smack of improvisation and cheap effects and even the most august of them lack the cachet accorded to fine wines, old whiskies, and cognac brandies.  They are easily abused; they can degrade lives and even destroy them.  Even if appreciated in moderation, they are appreciated in surroundings that rarely lead to detached meditation on truth and beauty (if those are not the same thing) or constructive engagement with the great moral and social questions of the age.  And yet neither are they contemptible.  A proper drink at the right time - one mixed with care and skill and served in a true spirit of hospitality - is better than any other made thing at giving us the illusion, at least, that we're getting what we want from life.  A cat can gaze upon a king, as the proverb goes, and after a Dry Martini or  Sazerac Cocktail or two, we're all cats.

Imbibe!, David Wondrich, page 10

A Night of Vermouths

Last night was a night of exploring different recipes - I decided to drink only drinks that had both sweet and dry vermouths.  I expected it to be an interesting limitation in ingredients, and it did not disappoint.

My first drink under this rule was an Alfonso Special.  I'm not knocking it, and I'd totally drink it again, but it was far too bland to get a 'special' attached to its name.  I had planed on starting with a Beachcomber's Gold, but seemed to have misplaced my bottle of rum in my stomach - I'll have to get a new one before I can try that recipe.

Next came the Duchess.  As a 8:1 or more gin martini guy, I have been shocked recently to enjoy cocktails with strong dry vermouth components.  Though I will still not be increasing my vermouth ration in the martini, I do begrudgingly accept that dry vermouth can add significantly to a cocktail.

The Duchess

1/3 Dry Vermouth

1/3 Sweet Vermouth

1/3 Absinthe

(Use Redface's "Shake and Twirl" method for reddest results)

Next up came the Honorable Cocktail.  Finishing up the before-dinner cocktails, this was a solid pick.  I think I put a touch too much dry vermouth in it, but that could just be my sensitivity to the dry vermouth.  After a bland cocktail (Alfonso) and a complex if muddy cocktail (Duchess), the familiar warmth of bourbon was welcome.

The Honorable Cocktail

1 1/2 oz Bourbon

1/2 oz Sweet Vermouth

1/2 oz Dry Vermouth

(Shake and Twirl, then strain)

The Honorable Cocktail was surprisingly smooth, I'm beginning to buy into the whole mixing the sweet and dry vermouths.  Though they both have very powerful tastes, they seem to consistently allow their liquor companions to shine through. 

To finish it off, I came across a recipe that filled the gap I've been having for quite some time.  I haven't had a whiskey sour in a while, and the Manhasset more than fixes that.  

Manhasset

1 1/4 oz Bourbon

1/2 oz lemon juice

1/2 oz dry vermouth

1/4 oz sweet vermouth

Without any of the throat-sticky-sweetness of most bar's whiskey sours, and without the sugar component, the Manhasset does away with most of what makes me get tired of whiskey sours after one or two.  Instead, this one packs the bourbon taste down to make room for the vermouths, and finishes with the way sour lemon aftertaste.  It's not until after the lemon that you get the whiskey heat, and even then, it's fully tempered by the sour, sweet, and dry ingredients.

Sweet Vermouth

It has recently come to my attention that I should have been paying more attention all this time to what brand of vermouth I use.  I have always been an 8:1 Gin martini guy.  Call me extreme, or just say the truth: I love the taste of icy gin.  However, after reading about Noilly Prat Vermouth today over at DrinkBoy.com, I decided to try a bottle of the Noilly Prat Rouge.

Well, I'm convinced.  The Demon Of Destiny I've been drinking since I got that bottle of Absinthe this weekend,  has never tasted this way.   I had three or four with the cheap sweet vermouth, and it isn't the same cocktail.  Repeat: it is not the same cocktail with cheap sweet vermouth.


I was a little skeptical in the liquor store, and ended up not getting any grand marnier, or curaçao, since I wasn't willing to pay that much for a bottle I would us up rather quickly for a liqueur.  I might have to start stockpiling these expensive or hard to find liqueurs.  If switching to a good sweet vermouth makes that much difference, I dare say I might... ...just... ...try... ...a... ...different... Martini... Recipe...

Crazy, but this sweet vermouth has so much more apetizing of a nose and body that it might be worth trying a different martini recipe.  We'll have to wait and see.