Aperol Spritz

I’ve made lots of these so you don’t have to, and I’ve also braved the new WordPress editor, which is actually worse than Jive, so I’m typing this in raw HTML, because that’s less painful.

Anyway, the spritz allegedly has its origins in an Italy where German mercenaries were common, and who weren’t used to the strength of the local booze, hence the need for soda. The ‘official’ Aperol Spritz recipe dictates three measures of prosecco, two measures of Aperol, together with one measure of soda. I quite like Aperol and soda (50mL to 150mL respectively) but in this context it’s just soapy and a bit awful. Dialling down the Aperol and eliminating the soda (what’s the point?) leaves me with 25mL Aperol and 125mL prosecco, which is quite nice. Your nice might not be my nice, so you might like to experiment, although for my money, the Negroni Sbagliato is more fun.

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Cable Car

A recent addition to the canon, I’m surprised nobody thought of this before: the same idea as a White Lady or a Sidecar, but using rum, which adds a pleasing depth.

In a shaker with plenty of ice, place 50mL of interesting rum. You’ll then want 12.5mL of lemon juice, 12.5mL of Cointreau and 12.5mL of sugar syrup. Shake like mad, and strain into a Martini glass. You’ll have a squeezed lemon handy, so a lemon peel garnish seems logical.

You might want to experiment with spiced rum, and also increasing the amount of lemon juice. Many recipes want you to put a cinnamon/sugar rim on the glass; I think that’s a distraction.

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Death in the Afternoon

This is simply awful.

Starting with 125mL of fizz, I added 5mL absinthe. Actually, not bad. Mysterious, even, but some nasty heaviness the developed the further down I went in the glass. A second attempt, with 10mL, tasted like fizzy chlorhexadine gluconate, but without any useful anti bacterial properties. Even an absinthe rinse, as per the excellent Sazerac, seemed simply a way of turning good champers into bad. I shudder to think what Hemingway’s recommended 40mL would achieve, other than bragging rights.

I had to wash my mouth out with a dry Martini.

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Sazerac

This is a splendid beast from 1850s New Orleans, whose natural habitat is more the late night session than the pre dinner snifter, but don’t let that stop you. After all, the sun is over the yard arm somewhere in the world.

In a cocktail shaker or jug place two sugar cubes, 50mL bourbon, and half a teaspoon of Peychaud’s bitters; that’s about six firm shakes of the bottle. (Angostura bitters might be a little harsh in this context.)

Leave this for a moment, and turn your attention to the destination. I like to use a port glass, as its dainty appearance makes a nice contrast with the hard liquor inside. To this glass add a scant quarter teaspoon of absinthe; no more than a few drops. Swirl the absinthe around to coat the inside of the glass, and discard any excess. If the glass is chilled, all the better.

Now, the sugar cubes should have soaked up some bitters and bourbon, and be starting to come to pieces, so gently help them on their way with a muddling spoon. Add plenty of ice and stir like mad until frost forms on the outside. Strain into the absinthe coated glass, letting some of the sugar from the shaker make it in there as well.  Garnish with a twist of lemon.

You might like to vary the amount and kind of sugar. An original pre-phylloxera Sazerac would have used brandy instead of bourbon.

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Martini

It’s traditional, when writing about the Martini, to assemble a set of pithy aphorisms from the Jazz Age, and then attempt something … witty. There are the usual quotes about how dry they ought to be, and how many arguments will be triggered by merely making one. Having read all the usual epigrams, from Dorothy Parker to Winston Churchill, I feel none the wiser about the drink itself.

So let’s forget all that and get drunk. The Martini is your ideal accomplice in this situation, as it’s basically a way of drinking very cold gin. A decent gin is essential, and ideally it should live in the freezer. Ditto the vermouth, re decency but not re the freezer. The only real choices are the level of dryness (less than you think) and the tricky proposition of olive versus twist.

Into a shaker with plenty of ice, add 50mL gin, but feel free to slip, as 50mL feels niggardly, although 75mL is way too much. Add a teaspoon, that’s 5mL, of dry white vermouth. I’m using Sipsmith and Noilly Prat, but you don’t have to. Whizz the whole lot round for a few minutes with a cocktail spoon, and strain into  — you guesed it — a Martini glass. Use a potato peeler to get a decent chunk of lemon peel and, over the glass, pinch it and crease it down the middle before dropping it in. This will release some of the oils in the skin. Drink carefully.

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French 75

The French 75 was highly advanced for its time: lightweight, accurate, manoeuvrable and deadly. So — apparently — is the field gun after which they named it. Essentially it’s a Gimlet topped up with fizz. Were it a Gimlet topped up with soda it’d be a Tom Collins, but this is more fun, and more dangerous. You could serve it with ice in a Collins glass, but I think a flute looks classier, and if your champers is chilled you won’t need ice.

Start with 25mL gin, 12.5mL lemon juice, and 5mL sugar syrup. Stir firmly with plenty of ice, and then strain into a flute. Top with 125mL or so of bubbles. I’ve garnished mine with a twist, but don’t feel obliged. Down the hatch and vive la république!

A single shot of gin might sound parsimonious, and if you slip very slightly, then it won’t hurt and you’ll end up with a friskier drink. Some recipes call for double measures and less champagne, but I don’t think it’s as nice. Feel free to swap the champers for prosecco or cava, but don’t tell the French.

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Negroni Sbagliato

Allegedly created when a bartender cocked up a Negroni, this is the Aperol Spritz’s grownup cousin, pleasingly dry and acerbic, like my aunt.

Some recipes demand equal quantities of the three ingredients, which to my unrefined palate, tastes like fizzy cough mixture. I think you need 12.5mL of red vermouth, 12.5mL of Campari, and top with 125mL of prosecco. Garnish with some orange peel, if handy, otherwise guzzle al pronto. Like a Negroni, the Campari can be replaced with Aperol for something less strident, but that might be missing the point.

(Try saying ‘sbagliato’ after two of these.)

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Manhattan

A firm cocktail, that leaves you in no doubt you’re drinking hard liquor.

Start with 50mL bourbon, 35mL red vermouth, a splash of Peychaud’s bitters, and stir vigorously with plenty of ice. Garnish with a cocktail cherry. (Peychaud’s is a rather good thing, but a rather unusual thing to find in the shops. Feel free to use Angostura.)

Simple enough? Well. Although you’ll not cop the tribal snobbery associated with the Martini, opinions can get a little heated. I’ve already diverged from the path of righteousness by slipping with the vermouth and you might like it a little drier; the traditional 25mL. You can gradually reduce the red vermouth, and replace it with white vermouth. A 50:50 ratio is known as a ‘Perfect Manhattan’, which is a trifle dry for my taste. The glacé cherry is non negotiable, and should be fished from the jar and deposited into the glass with just a smidge of the syrup still clinging to it.

More than just about any other cocktail, you will be betrayed by the presence of cheap and nasty bourbon or cheap and nasty vermouth. Consider your reputation.

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Rum Buck

Mostly harmless. 50mL interesting rum, the juice of half a lime, and top with 150mL of ginger beer. A drop of Angostura Bitters adds interest. Dark rum and spiced rum work better than white rum. If you lose the lime juice, you end up with another cocktail whose name is trademarked by a company who will sue me if I mention any rum other than theirs. So I shan’t.

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Boulevardier

The Negroni’s more sombre cousin. Like most sombre cousins, this one acts up, so watch yourself.

You’ll need 50mL bourbon, 50mL red vermouth and 25mL Campari. Stir vigorously with some ice and serve up with a twist of orange.

The 2:2:1 ratio is my favourite, but by no means set in stone, so feel free to experiment. Good vermouth is crucial.

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