I had heard good words about this book. I imagined with excitement learning lots of new information. Unfortunately, I now wish I had used the money on something else.
Firstly, this is not a scholarly book. The author tends to assert that something happened or changed at around some year, and then goes on without giving any supporting documentation or providing any footnotes.
Secondly, true cocktails (bittered slings) should be the type of drink that is most central to any serious work on bitters that involves mixed drinks. It seems the author may be aware of what a true cocktail is, but does not explain why bitters are so important to the true cocktail. In a drink where the liquor is the star of the show, un-occluded by juices or sodas, the bitters will remove most of the sensation of the fumatic harshness of alcohol.
Thirdly, the author divides bitters into those that are “aromatic” and those that are “potable.” Drink books of yore reveal no consensus on the names of the two types of bitters, so the author and everyone else today are using whatever terms that they like. I would say that petite bitters are also potable, especially when mixed into drinks. I call the two types of bitters ‘petite bitters’ and ‘grand bitters.’ Either way, the main difference is that petite bitters should never be sweetened by the manufacturer, while grand bitters (sold in larger bottles) are almost always sweetened by the manufacturer and are thusly also appropriate for unmixed use. This important point is not mentioned by the author.
Fourthly, the author gives a number of recipes for making bitters that include relatively low-proof spirits. Traditionally, bitters were made by combining aromatic macerations with aromatic infusions. The maceration would be accomplished by placing aromatic material in and over-proof spirit of about 190 proof or higher. The higher proof the spirit, the better it macerates out alcohol-soluble compounds from the aromatic material. A separate treatment would be set up by placing aromatic material (usually the same as used in the maceration) in pure water infuse into it the water soluble compounds from the aromatic material. Since some aromatic compounds are best extracted by maceration in highly over-proof spirits while others are best extracted by infusion in pure water, traditional bitters are a combination of both. So, the final steps in making bitters must include the combination of a maceration and an infusion. This almost-perfectly-whole extraction and preservation or aromatic material is what the word ‘bitters’ should require. Unfortunately, many makers today use shortcuts, or maceration in vodka or whiskey. Such methods are simpler, but produce so-called bitters that are not fully functional at removing the sensation of the harshness of ethanol in true cocktails. I suppose that shouldn’t be surprising, since the ‘call-em-all-cocktails’ crowd seems to believe that petite bitters are nothing more than aromatic flavoring additives.
But even the above-mentioned recipes create nowhere near as poor a product as any so-called bitters by Fee Brothers. That company makes nothing that tradition would call bitters. Look at the label – they use no alcohol at all, and hence no maceration. Instead they suspend flavorings in glycerine. This should be no surprise – remember their motto, “don’t squeeze, use Fee’s.” Do you really want glycerine-based so-called bitters from a company that tells you that it’s better to use their sour mix than to squeeze lemon juice? Well, the author of “Bitters” apparently does. He recommends Fee Brothers bitters with seeming enthusiasm. A bottle of Fee Brothers bitters is even shown on the cover of the book with the word “glycerine” clearly visible in the ingredients listing. I suppose this should be no surprise since the next bottle in the photograph is Regan’s orange bitters. Just taste test Regan’s orange bitters versus Angostura orange bitters. Enough said.
I won’t bother going into the mixed drink recipes. I will just note that this book, like all others by the modern “call-em-all-cocktails” crowd, has no sense of a basic portion of liquor in any given drink, and is just as de-jiggered as books from the worst days of American bar books. Better, more-properly-jiggered, versions of almost all of the drinks the author presents can be found in the books they were originally published in. Imagine that.
So, what do I recommend? If you know nothing at all about bitters, or if you just want a coffee table book to assert your membership in the “hipster-bartenders-agog-over-bitters” club, go ahead and buy it (right after you put some more wax on your handlebar mustache and send out your vest and Ascot tie to be laundered). Otherwise, save your money.
Having finally grew weary of Stone’s Original Green Ginger Wine not being available anywhere in the local market, I ordered several bottles from the east coast.
Now I can resume making the Pimm’s No.1 Cup as it should be….
See the recipe below from my book. The recipe image may be enlarged by clicking it. Contact me if you wish to learn how you, too, may order some Stone’s Green Ginger. Enjoy!
The book, currently in two volumes (on on drinks and the other on liquor), is now available at:
I know more than one bartender that would probably refuse (or wish they could refuse) any request for a drink that they feel is beneath them to make. I understand this feeling, and have felt it at times when taking requests for drinks that I thought were undeserving of my time and effort. But then again, there was that day in culinary school…
I used to stay up late to watch the original Iron Chef show from Japan. I’ll never forget the episode with Koji “mad” Kobayashi. He was, apparently, a talented, innovative and highly-trained cook that refused to ever make the same dish twice. He therefore quit the business and started driving a food delivery truck. He continued to cook meals for his family – each one being a completely new creation. He was a challenger on Iron Chef, and if memory serves me right, he beat iron chef Chen Kenichi. I was impressed and told the story to my chef instructor, who said, “It sounds like he forgot that cooks cook for other people.” I immediately understood the warning that the ego of the cook can get in the way of satisfying the guest – and that it would be a challenge for me. The same can be true of some of the best bartenders.
With that lesson in mind, I believe that it is better to elevate a drink, and make it the best possible incarnation of itself that it can be, than to refuse to make it for fear of losing some professional preciousness. One drink that I have heard friends say they would refuse to make for a guest is the Long Island Iced Tea.
This image is suggestive of the sort of association made when this drink is mentioned in bartending circles. But, nevertheless, I had no doubt that the Long Island Iced Tea could be elevated.
When elevating a ‘low-brow’ drink, it can be helpful to determine which type of drink it is. That way, the pleasing qualities for the type can be identified and utilized to make it something better than your guest expected. The noticeable sour element in the Long Island Iced Tea makes it a punch. That the weak element in it is carbonated, plus the fact that it is served on the rocks in individual portions, makes it a member of the Collins sub-genre of punch. The main consequence of the soda being fancy (flavored and sweetened) is that the amount of other sweetening ingredients should be carefully considered for proper balance with the sour element. Another point worthy of consideration when elevating is the best selection of method. Most punches not made-and-served in bowls should be shaken. The main difference between ‘stirring’ and ‘shaking’ is that shaking also aerates the drink considerably. It’s true that shaking is not desired in drinks where the character of the liquor should not be ‘bruised,’ but rather left mostly-intact as the star of the drink, such as in slings (especially bittered slings – a.k.a. true cocktails). The ingredients in true cocktails are proportioned and stirred to harmony. But shaking (and its aeration) helps to produce the unified, balanced identity of punch (when made in individual portions as in Collinses, sours, fixes, etc.) The ingredients in punches are proportioned and shaken to balance.
The initial issue to be resolved was the jigger. Most Long Island Iced Teas are served with a hooker (2-1/2 fl-oz.) of total liquor – 1/2 fl-oz. each from five different bottles. How was I to jigger (2 fl-oz.) the total liquor so that the best punch proportions could be used between sour, sweet, strong and weak – and have the drink be served in the same-sized tumbler as any other Collins?
The vodka found in typical versions of the drink is there just for its alcoholic content. It does nothing for the flavor. Another liquor, the so-called “triple sec,” is usually a low-proof, poor imitation of proper triple-sec Curaçao liqueur. Proper triple-sec (“triple-dry”) Curaçao liqueur should be a liqueur of a secondary spirit of macerated orange peel. I don’t know of any good one bottled at below 70 proof (35% a.b.v.). Cointreau is not the only high-quality triple-sec Curaçao liqueur, by the way. I chose to use Luxardo Triplum. It’s very acceptible - and at 78 proof, it mostly obviates the need for the flavorless vodka in the drink.
In order to preserve the high-alcohol identity of the Long Island Iced Tea, I decided to use an overproof traditional (pot-distilled character) rum instead of an 80 proof light rum (remember that light rum is not necessarily light in color – rather in being so highly distilled that it is light in flavor, even if barreled until brown). Wray & Nephew White Overproof is the right spirit for the job. Being traditional rum, it provides a lot more flavor, and being 126 proof, it more than makes up for scaling to the jigger from the hooker. I also used solid quality Tequila mezcal and dry gin to finish the jigger out, both being traditional ingredients in this drink.
For the sour element, I used the freshly-pressed juice of the Eureka lemon. For the little bit of additional sweetness needed (beyond that of the liqueur and the fancy soda), I used superfine sugar. For the cola-flavored soda (cola nut is one of the ingredients), I used Coca-Cola from Mexico (to avoid the inferior flavor of high-fructose corn sweetener). I normally strain all non-carbonated ingredients of a Collins onto the proper amount of soda water, already in the Collins tumbler with the ice. That is to allow the heavier rest-of-the-drink to mix itself with the soda. In the case of the Long Island Iced Tea, the soda is fancy and sweetened, which makes it actually heavier than the rest of the drink. This means that it should be added at the end, allowing gravity to perform the final mixing. Whether plain soda or fancy soda is used, understanding the jigger as the basic amount of total liquor in the drink, along with the size of your service ice, will inform you in selecting glassware of the appropriate capacity – eliminating the haphazard “top up with” approach still found in too many bars.
Here is the result. Try it. I think you will find, that when elevated, there is nothing wrong with, or below a bartender’s pride about, the Long Island Iced Tea Collins.
(click the image to enlarge it and better read the recipe)
Here are some of the drinks made by the students during the Punches session of the last Mixed Drinks Course. I am also including a couple of drinks from the previous Possets session. Make anything you see here, and I predict you will be happy with the results. Enjoy!
Click on any of the images below to enlarge them, which should make reading the recipe much easier.
First is a fix that seemed obvious to me, but apparently had not been made before:
Here is the modern era’s only somewhat-popular true milk punch (being both soured and dairied). It is always a favorite, and you might call it the Ramos Gin Fizz:
A lion is a sour that is made fancy by being modified by both liqueur and nectar or flavored syrup. This lion might not be the king of the jungle, but it pleased everyone present:
Now for the original Mai Tai Fix (at least as original as anyone can prove):
Now I must digress into one of my old war cries… Most drinks are not cocktails – according to the original meaning of drink-associated variation of the word. When one understands what the word cocktail really means and that the thing it means really exists, it can get old to hear the word thrown around so loosely (even when no pretense is detectable)…
I instructed the student to make the original Last Word Daisy (even though the source called it a cocktail in 1951, it is a liqueuredly-fancy sour and thus a daisy – to call any drink a cocktail in 1921, 1931 or 1951 was only the same thing as calling any drink a martini in 2001.) I further instructed the student to at the same time make another drink of the same ingredients, but adapted into being a true cocktail. Here are the results:
The next couple of drinks are from the earlier Possets session. Slings are led by the alcoholic base, mitigated by a little water, sweetness and aromatic ingredients (which reduce the sensation of the burn of the alcohol). Bittered Slings are Cocktails – historically-and-correctly-speaking. Punches are a balance of the four elements; sour + sweet + strong + weak – and even better when also aromatized. So what makes a Posset unique? All Possets are thickened. Traditional Possets are thickened by cream or milk. Egg Possets are better known as Flips. Eggnogs, as they have evolved, are thickened by both dairy and egg.
Here is a flip that usually surprises the students for being much better than reading the recipe would suggest:
And finally, my all-time favorite eggnog:
Student serving the Baltimore Eggnog:
For those of you that have sought out the long-handled dashspoon (0.625 ml.) that I use to stir Old-fashioned Cocktails just before serving them, I have found the maker and an inexpensive seller! The spoon is made under the auspices of the R.S.V.P. International company out of Seattle, Washington. They call this spoon the Endurance Contempo Drink Spoon. It measures a dash perfectly (and so is technically not a barspoon, which measures half a teaspoon or 2.5 ml.), is eleven inches long, and made of 18/10 stainless steel. It can be found being sold by many sellers at around $10 per spoon, but Kitchen Nook is selling them for $3.95!
http://www.cooksnook.com/bar-spoon.html
I know that some of you were looking for this spoon, so get them at this price while you still can!
The majority of mixed drinks are based on liquor, for which the traditional portion is the jigger, or 2 fl-oz. The device used to measure this amount, or parts thereof, is also called a jigger. The following quotations indicate the pre-prohibition meaning of the word jigger.
George Kappeler – Modern American Drinks – 1895: “A jigger is a measure used for measuring liquors when mixing drinks; it holds two ounces. A pony holds half a jigger.”
Cuyler Reynolds – The Banquet Book – 1902: “Jigger. – The contents are equivalent to 2 ounces”
With that settled, it is now quite clear what is meant in books from between 1910 and about 1950 by “1/3 jigger” or “2/3 dry gin, 1/3 Italian vermouth.” The latter would be 1-1/3 fl-oz. dry gin and 2/3 fl-oz. Italian vermouth. Those proportions allow for twice as much of the gin as the vermouth, but still have the total volume of 1 jigger – which was considered the standard single portion for liquor – and thus would, after stirring through ice, fit the 4-1/2 fl-oz. cocktail goblet perfectly.
To get this amount requires a split jigger with the capacity of 40 ml. in one cup and 20 ml. in the other. That is because the American fluid-ounce has the capacity of 29.57 ml., which is rounded to 30 ml. Therefore, to split a jigger (2 fl-oz.) between two liquors in a proportion of 2:1 requires the 40 ml. x 20 ml. split jigger – that is a 2:1 split jigger in the functional amounts of 1-1/3 fl-oz. by 2/3 fl-oz. Such a split jigger can be hard to find in American shops – and the one jigger that claims to be a 40 ml. x 20 ml. split jigger that is easiest to obtain from the main American bar product websites is actually inaccurate. For that reason I am sharing the following images that are also links:
StainlessLux 73009 – $10
(with interior and exterior marks per cl. – or each 1/3 fl-oz.)
Cuisinox JIG42 – about $10
(labelled as being 4 cl. and 2 cl.)
Just about any serious bartender can espouse upon the differences on the palate between malt whisky, rye whiskey and Bourbon whiskey. Each type has its own nature – before any time spent in wood. Aging in wood can add woody flavor, but it cannot change the flavor from rye to maize or barley. Likewise, a very old Scotch blended whisky will not take up the flavor of a pure malt whisky, no matter how long it sits in the barrel. Malt whisky is pot-distilled from 100% barley. Scotch blended whisky is a small amount of malt whisky used to flavor a much greater amount of highly-distilled maize spirit. If both malt and blended whiskies from Scotland were available in their younger, colorless states, whisky lovers would be sure to correct anyone who made the mistake of saying that the two types of whisky from Scotland were white and brown.
Then we come to rum. Unfortunately, most laypersons (and many in the liquor industry) persist in classifying rum in three types: light (or white – either way in the sense of lack of color), gold and dark. It’s clear that the problem lies with the disparate meanings of ‘light’ – luminous or un-heavy. Given rum’s current caché, this understandable but culinarily-criminal error cries out to be corrected. It’s time we got real about rum.
Traditional Rum
In the beginning, all rum (including that from the Spanish-speaking and French-speaking Caribbean) was made by fermenting molasses (a by-product of refining sugar from sugar cane) for two or three days and then distilling a spirit from it using a low-efficiency pot still. Any rum that is still made using these techniques should be called traditional rum. Traditional rum has the full flavor that all rum once had. That is because the longer fermentable material is fermented and the lower proof it is distilled at, the more flavor the resulting spirit will have. I include blended rums where the majority of the blend is made up of pure pot-still rum as traditional rum. I did not coin the phrase, ‘traditional rum.’ A few distillers still use it. Savanna distillery on the French island of Réunion is the only distillery in the world that I know of that produces traditional rum and light rum and agricole rum. They refer to their pot-distilled molasses rum as, “rhum traditionnel.” Though most Spanish-speaking rums are light, the people at Diplomatico in Venezuela tell me that all of their rums are molasses rums and that their Reserva Exclusiva bottling is about 80% pot-distilled. I would consider that on the traditional side of rum. Their soon-to-be-released Ambassador is 100% pot-distilled. If I had to drink only one type of rum, it would be traditional rum.
Light Rum
Originally, the phrase “light rum” referred to rum that was made using fermentation and distillation methods that resulted in a rum that was lighter in flavor than traditional rum. For light rum, the molasses is fermented for only about one day and then the spirit is distilled from it at high efficiency in a continuous still. This method was developed in the late nineteenth century in Cuba. In the Cuban rum episode of the Thirsty Traveler, Havana Club master distiller Juan Carlos Gonzalez tells Kevin Brauch, “All Cuban rums are light.” Havana Club offers a 15 year old bottling, which is quite brown, but it is light rum because it was fermented and distilled in a way that produces a rum that is lighter in flavor, even after long aging. Old light rums will invariably taste much more of the wood (or added vanilla in some products from Trinidad) than the molasses. The majority of rums available on the market are light rums – including the brown ones. Because it can be operated non-stop and produces more salable bottles from the same amount of raw material, the continuous still has replaced the pot-still in most rum-producing countries – even English-speaking ones. Most rums from Trinidad and the Virgin Islands are light rums, even though English is spoken there. Almost all Spanish-speaking rums are light. There are exceptions, however.
Blended Rum
Just as Scotch blended whisky is mostly highly-distilled maize spirit (a.k.a. grain whisky) with a little malt whisky in it for flavor, blended rum is mostly light rum with a little traditional rum in it. Most rums from Barbados and Bermuda are blended rums. Jamaican law requires that no rum be sold as Jamaican rum be without pot-distilled rum in it. This means that to create a cheaper product that is also lighter in flavor, Jamaican distillers sell a large amount of blended rum. A good example of this is the J. Wray & Nephew distillery. While their White Overproof rum is traditional rum (and the one rum bottle you are most likely to find in any Jamaican household), their export-focused Appleton line is blended rum. I tend to shy away from blended rums, preferring to blend them myself if I so choose. But, there are several very good blended rums that feature wood and unique aging as an important part of their flavor. Dos Maderas and Santa Teresa are such products.
Heavy Rum
So-called ‘heavy’ rums like Myers’s are usually light or blended rums that have been compounded with actual molasses.
Agricole Rum
Over time, events like the Haitian slave rebellion and wars with Britain and their more powerful navy caused France to seek a domestic source for sugar. Perfectly acceptable sucrose (sugar) can be refined from other sources, such as the sugar beet. Once France began producing domestic sugar, plantations in the French-speaking Caribbean had less cause to refine sugar from their cane. There is some evidence that spirits had been distilled in the French Caribbean from cane nectar before, but the above events ensured that it would become the norm. Thus was born agricole rum. Agricole rum must be lowly distilled in pot stills and therefore has plenty of flavor – just not that of molasses. Other cane nectar rums exist that do not quite fit the French legal requirements for agricole rum. Barbancourt from Haiti is one example. In many ways, agricole rum is more akin to Brazilian cachaça than it is to traditional rum, light rum or blended rum. The island of Réunion in the Indian Ocean is legally a part of metropolitan France, and the refining of sugar from sugar cane continues there to this day. That is why Réunion’s Savanna distillery produces fine examples of both traditional rum and agricole rum, both types available either colorless or aged and brown. Having both pot and continuous stills, Savanna also produces light rum. Most agricole rum available in the U.S.A. comes from Martinique and is very good, but agricole rum from Guadeloupe is said by some to be just as good, or even better.
Inlander Rum (a.k.a. Rum-Verschnitt)
Back when all rum was still traditional, German-speaking bakers and confectioners found that they loved getting rum’s traditional flavor into their products. The problem was that by the time a barrel of rum was shipped to a European port, and then all the way inland to Vienna, for example, it was just too expensive to use. So, the rum would be cut with a relatively neutral grain spirit and then spiced and aged in used rum barrels to spread the traditional flavor of rum to the cut spirit. Austrians call the resulting spirit inlander rum – which means the same thing in German and English. Germans call it rum-verschnitt – which means ‘cut rum.’ If I had only read about this process, the purist in me would probably lead me to decline the use of inlander rum. But it is an effective product. I can only guess that it was a learning process and that it is as good as it is out of the past couple of centuries experience. Even though inlander rum is cut and flavored, technically, the end result is to enhance and heighten rum’s traditional flavor – instead of simply compounding or changing it. Rather than drink it neat or base a drink on it, I tend to use inlander rum as an accent in mixed drinks. The one drink that I love based solely on inlander rum is the Hot Buttered Inlander Rum.
Other rum-like spirits can be found that deserve brief mention. Batavia arrack is a spirit of cane nectar that is fermented with a little rice. It must be said that arrack is just the Arabic word for ‘spirit’ in the alcoholic sense and is not restricted to any specific type of spirit. Thai arrack is a spirit of molasses that is fermented with a little rice. Mekhong is a common brand of Thai arrack. As noted above, agricole rum’s closest relative is cachaça. Cachaça is also lowly distilled from cane nectar, but not necessarily in copper pot stills the way agricole rum must be. Cachaça is also rarely aged for as long as agricole rum often is, but there are exceptions.
Ceylon arrack, charayam (India arrack) and lambanog (Philippine arrack) are not distilled from cane or molasses at all. They are distilled from the nectar of the coconut palm blossom and can’t be considered close relatives of rum. But, by early accounts it is clear that punch was based on India arrack before it was ever made of rum.
Tasting the Types
To instruct the palate on the different types of rum, I suggest the following taste testing. Obtain some Wray & Nephew White Overproof (traditional) rum, Matusalem Platino (light) rum and La Favorite Couer de Canne Rhum Agricole Blanc. Notice that all three products are colorless. Start with the light rum, of course, to prevent the aftertaste of a more flavorful rum confuting a less flavorful one.
Smell the Matusalem Platino. Sip it. This is the un-wooded nature of light rum.
Drink some water.
Smell the Wray & Nephew White Overproof. Don’t sip it yet. Just notice the molasses on the nose that was absent in the light rum.
Smell the La Favorite Rhum Agricole Blanc. Don’t sip it yet. Notice that it has a full, pot-still aroma also – but of sugarcane rather than molasses.
Now sip the Wray & Nephew. Just a little will do – it is overproof and rather strong in ethanol. Be sure to notice the flavor as distinct from the sensation of the alcohol, which actually has no flavor.
Now sip the La Favorite – beware, it is proof (100° or 50%).
Finally, consider what a culinary crime it would be to call all of these rums light, just because they have no color.
And Now For a Drink…
As William Boothby said in his 1908 book:
“The idea of making any liquor into a cocktail was conceived only for the purpose of removing the sharp, raw taste peculiar to all plain liquors. Therefore it is not necessary to use a combination of cordials, essences or lemon juice as some ‘bar creatures’ do, but by adhering strictly to the herein contained directions you will be enabled to serve these famous American decoctions in as fine style as the highest salaried mixologist in the land.”
This gets at what a sadness it is that the word cocktail was bastardized in meaning from referring to one of many, clearly identifiable, types of drinks to a meaningless word pretentiously attached to the name of any mixed drink served ‘up’ (starting about 1910 – we can’t blame prohibition for this one). I know that people want to feel sophisticated when they are spending hard-earned money at the bar, but calling all drinks cocktails or martinis really does work against appreciating (or even knowing about) the unique glory of the original items. Imagine a time in the future when all Japanese food might be called sushi, just because the perceived sophistication of the word had become irresistible, and restaurants found they could make a lot of money selling so-called sushi to people who don’t really like raw fish. I suppose the recent bastardization of old terms such as smash and fix and cooler is the result of a well-meant but often dimly-lit desire to avoid calling everything a cocktail…
But, back to what Boothby said: a true cocktail is a great way to appreciate any spirit without fouling it up too much. In a true cocktail (or any other type of true sling besides the bittered sling) the sweetness should only be enough to ‘round’ the flavor of the spirit. The dilution should only be enough to open the flavor of the spirit. Finally the bitters are there, not least to reduce the sensation of the alcohol on the palate. This all combines to let the drinker enjoy the essential nature of the spirit without being distracted by its harsher edges – and without occluding it with sour juices or fancy sodas, or by muddling it with the exotic fruit or herb of the hour. If I must use both a jigger of good spirit and a jigger of not-so-good spirit, I might make a cocktail with the good and a sour (or any other type of punch) with the not-so-good.
Why do I digress thus? It is because I love rum (without being part of the fad), but don’t always drink my spirits thoroughbred. I wanted a mixed drink that would remain faithful to what good rums can be. That is why I created for myself the World of Rum Cocktail. I believe it presents the various types of rum, harmoniously-mixed, but with each type discernible to the searching palate. It is accented with inlander rum for its genius in heightening rum. It is bittered with the quintessential Caribbean bitters to sooth out the rough edges of ethanol, which was important for this drink as it contains three spirits at-or-over proof! It is diluted with the fluid-ounce, or so, of water that will be added while stirring the drink through ice.
I made this drink for my students at the end of class yesterday evening. It should have gone into the traditional glass cocktail goblet instead of the modern one I put it into last night (the modern, conical cocktail goblet should ideally be reserved for those true cocktails that are sweetened by aromatized wines, such as vermouth, for the advantageous release of the extra aroma – even though the huge surface area allows the drink to warm too quickly). After taking the photo (above left), the drink was consumed in short order to unanimous approval and did not suffer the warming it might otherwise have endured. If the over-use of the cocktail goblet has made it not hip enough for you, you may put this drink into a coupe, but its shallowness will let the drink warm at least as quickly as would the modern cocktail goblet… The drink really should be served in the traditional cocktail goblet shown in the recipe given below (click the image to enlarge it for easier reading). Please do enjoy!
I have re-done the Basic Mixing Stock list to include photographs! Let it not be said that I am against technology and pretty colors! I have the pages visible here as images. I will e-mail the proper pdf file to anyone who requests it via e-mail (andrew@elementalmixology.com).
(click on the thumbnails of the pages images for enlargeable images of them)
