I’ve been on this massive rum kick lately… not so much for mixing – mainly for just sippin’ on. Smith & Cross is my all-time heavy weight favorite rum – it’s funky, earthy taste is a nod to rums as they were made a few hundred years ago… but it’s damned hard to mix with. It’s so potent it tends to overpower all the other ingredients in the drink. I’ve had some success using it in a flip, and using it as a rinse, but I wanted to make something sorta classic tiki with it…
The Gentleman’s Companion
1.5 oz. Smith & Cross Rum
.75 oz. Orgeat Syrup
.5 oz. Lime Juice
Dash Orange Bitters
Dash Ango Bitters
2 Dash Elixir Vegetal
Allspice Dram Rinse
Combine the rum, orgeat, lime juice and bitters in a shaker, and give it a go. When you’re done shaking, pour about a teaspoon (maybe even less) of Allspice Dram into a rocks glass, and rinse the glass with it. Pour the contents of the shaker in, and dash a bit of EV onto the surface.
The result is an amazingly fragrant, complex cocktail. If you actually go thru the trouble of making this at home, after you dash on the Elixir Vegetal (if you use Chartreuse I won’t be mad,) give it a good whiff. The nose is amazing, and the bold flavors really complement each other. Is it audacious to name this drink after Charles H. Baker’s classic masterpiece? A bit… but I’m one audacious fuck.
This post was originally published on The Sugar House blog of cocktails and break dancing.
I’ve been working on this one for a while and I’m pretty happy about it. Feeling like it could be a contender on the Spring menu. I may tweak the proportions, and I’ll certainly have a tasting panel, but this drink here… it’s a ruler. Stone cold.
The Hairy Fairy
1.5 Gin
.5 oz. Drambuie
.5 oz. Clementine Juice
.25 oz. Creme de Cacao
Egg White
Dash Peychaud’s
Shake & double strain. Garnish with the nutmeg.
I was working under the assumption that oranges and chocolate go well together, but I wanted something that would be suitable for Spring, so I went with gin as the base. The Drambuie brings both a touch of sweetness and smokiness to the party, and really makes the drink overall.
Though dry vermouth is still prized as an aperitif in Europe, the modern American is generally uninformed about this classic aromatized wine. This is largely due to bartenders that allow opened bottles to languish on a warm shelf and quickly oxidize. Many a drinker’s first and only experience with dry vermouth comes in the form of a classic martini that tastes like an alpine bunny took a dump in it. The truth is, when stored in a refrigerator after opening and consumed with purpose, vermouth can be both a quality aperitif and cocktail mixer.
Native to northwest Italy and southern France, vermouth is produced using herbs and other botanicals and then lightly fortified with unaged brandy. Though Antonio Benedetto Carpano was the first to market the aromatized wine he produced in Turin back in 1786, vermouth and its predecessors had been consumed for centuries before that.Typical flavorings include cardamom, cinnamon, marjoram and chamomile along with myriad other herbs, roots and barks. The botanical most associated with vermouth is its namesake, wormwood, otherwise known in Old High German as Wermud.
Both as an effort to find the most quality dry vermouth for our dear readers, as well as an excuse to party, Gourmet Underground assembled a faction of Detroit mixologists and habitual vermouth drinkers for a blind tasting of six brands that are locally available. And because we couldn’t leave it at that, we included two brands a bit more rare, one coveted by cocktail geeks across the country, the other produced only under a full harvest moon by naked virgins in a French alpine mountain stream — or something like that.
The tasters:
Creative mixologist and owner of Detroit Sugar House Bar, Dave Kwiatkowski is relentlessly curious about booze. Though he’s burly enough to crush your skull between his bicep and forearm he’d much rather hand feed premium kibble to his two-and-a-half pound Yorkshire terrier.
A disheveled wine academic with a hedonistic philosophy, Detroit Wine Truck principle Putnam Weekley is capable of eating tabbouleh with his bare hands while sipping a vintage Burgundy out of a Dixie cup and explicating on the soil type of a half hectare vineyard plot in the Pfalz.
Great Lakes Coffee Roasting Company’s green coffee buyer and blender James Cadariu is as fussy about booze as he is coffee beans. He might lavish you with fine food and drink but no matter how good of a friend you are, if he catches you with a cup of caramel drizzled mocha latte, he will cut you with his contempt.
Gourmet Underground Detroit co-founder and talented webmaster Evan Hansen is a bona fide cocktail obsessive (among other things) and his home bar is the envy of all the neighborhood kids. On the surface, he appears to be a gravely serious dude but it was only recently that he stopped dying his hair purple.
Jarred Gild is wine monger and all-purpose gourmet consul at Western Market in Ferndale. Self-proclaimed “gentleman of leisure” he often drinks Cru Beaujolais from a Ball jar and travels with raw, naturally-raised Michigan beef. Do not be afraid if one day you find him frying something in your kitchen, he is generally harmless.
The brands appear in the order that we tasted them though the actual names were not revealed until all brands were tested. Samples were presented slightly chilled, in wine glasses, and poured in portions of approximately one ounce. The ambient humidity was perfect for tasting at 52%. A variety of hand-picked tasting music was playing softly in the background. I was wearing my favorite tasting socks — a sort of bluish-gray dyed wool blend. Everything was in place.
The vermouth:
Boissiere Extra Dry Vermouth, Italy, ~$12/liter
Boissiere has been my house brand vermouth since it showed up on the shelves at Holiday Market a few years ago. It’s versatile. I use it in cocktails, for cooking, and occasionally as an aperitif. Dave Kwiatkowski perceives it to have an initial wave of sweetness. It’s light, citrusy and floral with hints of rose petal and orange flower water. It has a mildly effervescent mouthfeel though it is not carbonated and finishes with just a hint of roasted nuts. Putnam Weekley guesses that it’s Noilly Prat.
Routin Vermouth, France, ~unavailable
A dark golden, Routin has an odd but compelling mix of flavors, cheese rind and old nuts, fresh peaches and apricots but also older fruit or fruit leather. It’s less herbal. James Cadariu mentions something about a similarity to sake. It’s liked by all but there is some question of how well it would work in cocktails given its intense flavor.
Jarred Gild finally shows up about 40 minutes late. Because of his tardiness we were forced to buy the bottle of Noilly Prat that he was charged to bring but we don’t give him too hard of a time, mainly because he’s carrying a bunch of bottles of wine for post-tasting drinking. A discussion about how to drink vermouth ensues. Jarred admits that at one point he was drinking a couple bottles a week with ice and a slice of lemon or orange. James cracks that the appropriate vessel for Jarred would be a Ball jar or tiki cup. We find this funny because it’s true.
Vya Extra Dry Vermouth, California, ~$28/750ml
Vya pours even darker than Routin. Evan Hansen makes the inevitable visual comparison to a urine sample and the not-so-inevitable aroma comparison to honeyed, ripe bananas with a plastic finish. There are shouts of root beer syrup, sun-dried tomatoes, sage and molasses. Dave Kwiatkowski admits that he always thought dry vermouth would taste like this if you gulped it straight from a wine glass. It gets mixed final opinions and later, when the brand is revealed we all agree that we likely wouldn’t pay the higher price for this brand.
Dolin Dry Vermouth de Chambery, France, $18/750ml (mail order)
The most disappointing of the grouping, Dolin gets called out for boozy and perfume-like aromas. It’s clear that at this point in the tasting it is the least favorite. It has more herbs and twigs on the nose, a cleaner finish and less depth than the previous brands.
Jarred Gild feels that it has an aura of cleaning product about it and then waxes poetical on the interconnectedness of Gourmet Underground Detroit that somehow leads to a discussion about crushed velvet suits. Putnam Weekley guesses that it’s Noilly Prat.
Martini and Rossi Dry Vermouth, Italy, ~$7/750ml
Congruent with a sweet vermouth tasting held years ago at the old Cloverleaf in Southfield, this “benchmark” brand is universally disliked. It is called astringent with aromas of ammonia and turpentine and artificial peach. James Cadariu conjures sawdust, asparagus pee and frozen green peas. Everyone is forced to rinse their glass out with water after this sample.
Stock Extra Dry Vermouth, Italy, ~$7/750ml
Mixed reviews for Stock. Though there is a simple balance between citrus and herbs it is quite shallow. Some just plainly do not like it. Putnam Weekley calls it clear, fresh and corporate and then, naturally, guesses that it’s Noilly Prat. At this point in the tasting it is apparent that most people aren’t spitting.
Cinzano Dry Vermouth, Italy, ~$8/750ml
Cinzano is floral, medicinal, furry, not as tart as the majority that we have tasted so far. There’s ginger ale on the nose and a slight hint of wet dog behind it. No one loves it but we all find a pleasant aroma of rosemary.
Dave Kwiatkowski thinks it smells like fish and then ponders the validity of vermouth tasting and possible palate fatigue. “Would we like this more if it were served first?” he asks. Ah, the mysteries of the universe. Anyway, what good is a blog if we can’t pretend to be experts?
Noilly Prat Dry Vermouth, France, ~$9/750ml
You can tell that the quality of vermouth has improved by the amount of chatter that ensues upon our final sample. There is more intensity here, more minerality. Though it smells slighty hot there is also cinnamon and citrus pith. And this brand frankly just drinks easier than the previous five. Putnam Weekley does not guess that it’s Noilly Prat.
For a final measure we mixed four of the vermouth brands into a classic martini with Beefeater gin at a ratio of two parts gin to one part vermouth. There was no negligible difference in quality when these vermouths were mixed with the harder booze. Not surprisingly, shitty vermouth is still shitty vermouth even with some gin added. This leads us to presume that the folks who claim that Martini & Rossi is THE vermouth to make a classic martini are, at the very least, lacking both taste and imagination.
Boissiere, Routin and Noilly Prat were found to be the favorites of most of the tasters, though it is expressed that any one may fair better or worse when mixed into more complicated drinks. The only real surprise came at the expense of Dolin. I can only assume that it is because of its relative rarity, somewhat higher price, and the fact that it is part of the well-regarded Haus Alpenz catalog, that it shows up on the list of many cocktail cognoscenti.
Our recommendation for locally available dry vermouth is Noilly Prat and Boissiere. They are quite different so try them both and find the one that works best for your purposes. As always, keep an open mind about these and any other drinks. As new brands come into the market and old brands are reformulated, you never know what might surprise you.
This post originally appeared on The Sugar House blog of cocktails and slightly advanced Rollerblading techniques.
I’ve been reading Kazuo Uyeda’s book “Cocktail Techniques” lately. It’s a pretty interesting take on cocktails. He argues that the customer decides how the cocktail will taste as soon as he walks into the bar; the decor of the establishment, the method of preparation, and the presentation of the drink are all as important as the taste. I don’t entirely disagree with him – if you’ve ever been to Milk & Honey you know that the anticipation of the drink is half the fun. However, he talks about making cocktails that will look a certain way – trying to achieve a color balance and letting that guide the flavors. I decided I’d make a cocktail of my own in his style and see how it turned out. Guess what? Nailed it.
Cocktail a la Uyeda
1.5 oz. Gin
.75 oz. Midori
.75 oz. Lime
.25 oz. Cointreau
Soda Water
Shake over ice, pour into “coral rimmed” glass. Top with soda water. Garnish with pomegranate seeds.
It’s a great drink, considering I hate Midori. It looks fantastic, and the coral rim allows the drinker to increase or decrease the sweetness depending on where he drinks it.
To make the coral rim, dip the glass (a good inch or so) in grenadine, Midori or blue curacao – or any other intensely colored syrup. Keep holding the glass upside down so the coloring agent doesn’t drip down the glass, and lightly shake off any drops. Next, dunk the rim in a separate glass full of sugar, up to the height of the existing coloring agent. Leave it there for a moment, gently remove, and lightly tap the glass to get rid of loose sugar. Wipe away the sugar from the inside of the glass, and you’re done. A total pain in the ass? To be sure. Worth every minute? Probably not.
Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, though it’s also my most commonly forgone.
Or somewhat often, a weekend may see me eat a bagel, a scone, a bowl of Simply Suzanne granola.
This morning, though, I found myself craving something substantial. Digging through the kitchen, I found a few ambulatory balls of Tribble-like fur, some lunch meat of questionable province, and not much else. The salvage total read like this: A freezer burned half loaf of bread, 3 eggs, half an onion, and left over cider-braised beef from dinner at Grange.
Sounded vaguely like time for some “steak and eggs.”
So I heated the beef, cooked the onion, and added them with some dried basil, thyme, salt, and red pepper flakes to some beaten egg whites, discarding the yolks. Then I poured the mixture into two medium-sized pastry cutters set into a pan of olive oil. I cooked them slowly over low-medium heat to get them to set up into little egg-beef cakes. Those went onto two slices of toasted all-grain bread with some olive oil and a bit of white balsamic.
The results? Amazing. One of the better spontaneous lunch or breakfast meals I’ve made. I suggest you give it a go. That is, if you happen to have some stale bread and left over cider-braised beef sitting about.
You’ve been digging the tart and funky taste of kombucha for a while but supporting a daily habit is becoming a burden on the wallet. It’s time to take that next step and brew your own. Though it’s really no more difficult than making a pot of tea, home brewing kombucha isn’t for everyone. The miracle of kombucha fermentation is a process without much flourish other than a few bubbles and it’s important that you trust your senses. If you’re the DIY type and you’re ready to start saving some serious dough, read on.
You don’t need any fancy equipment to get started brewing kombucha tea. In fact, you probably have just about everything you need already in your kitchen, except for the SCOBY.
The Players
SCOBY: The mother! A Symbiotic Culture of Bacteria and Yeast, or more technically, a zoogleal mat. It looks like a pale ham steak and feels like a wet marshmallow. You can’t make kombucha without one. There are several ways of obtaining a SCOBY. The best way is to meet someone who has been making kombucha for a while. Not only will they be happy to get you started with one of their kombucha babies, they will also be a good source of information and will probably help you troubleshoot any problems. Search online or at your local health food store, if you live in an urban area there’s almost certainly a health food or raw food community you can hook up with.
Click here for instructions on starting your own culture with store bought kombucha.
The fermentation vessel – wide-mouth glass or plastic container: The important thing about the fermentation vessel is that the mouth is wide enough that you can put your hand into it to retrieve the SCOBY. We prefer glass for ease of cleaning but food grade plastic can be used. Though unlikely, any scratches on the inside of plastic containers can harbor unwanted bacteria that could make your kombucha taste like rubber or cardboard. Spend an extra 30 seconds cleaning plastic to make sure it is thoroughly sanitized.
Kombucha: To prevent your kombucha from growing mold and unwanted bacteria the sweet tea mixture needs to be acidic. At least ten percent of your pre-fermented liquid should be kombucha. Alternatively, use four tablespoons of cider vinegar (without an active culture) per gallon.
Sugar: Plain, white sugar works very well in kombucha because it ferments almost completely and leaves behind nothing but alcohol. Most of the alcohol is then converted into acetic acid. Other sugars like fruit juice, unrefined cane sugar and corn sugar will all work. But they will all behave a bit different. Both fruit juice, and to some extent less-refined cane sugar, will leave some flavor behind. It’s best to get a few batches under your belt before you start experimenting with other types of sugar.
Tea: We like a quality, whole leaf green or oolong tea for a couple of reasons. A good whole leaf tea will sometimes last up to four steepings. This helps when you’re making larger batches. It also allows you to extract much more flavor with less steeping time. Many kombucha recipes tell you to steep the tea for ten or even fifteen minutes. This is preposterous! You wouldn’t normally drink an over-extracted tea. It’s bitter and nasty. Why would you use it for kombucha? Brew the tea with proper water temperature and steeping time and use 1½ to 2 times the amount of dry tea that you would to make a normal cup.
Of course tea bags will work. Just be wary of teas that might be flavored with oils or artificial ingredients. These added components may or may not affect how the kombucha ferments. We use green and oolong tea only because they have milder flavors that marry well with the fruit juices we add later at bottling time. The type of tea to use is entirely up to you.
Water: For years we’ve been using plain old Detroit tap water to make our kombucha. If you have issues with your water supply you can use filtered, distilled or you can even boil the water first.
The Recipe
Basic recipe for one gallon of kombucha (adjust proportionally for larger batches)
2-4 cups of plain kombucha (commercial or from a previous batch) or 4 Tbsp. cider vinegar (without active culture)
1 cup white sugar
3 cups of brewed tea
enough cold water to make a gallon (about 10 cups)
SCOBY
Combine hot tea and sugar until the sugar is dissolved. Add sweet tea to cold water and kombucha in the fermenting container. Add SCOBY to the cool mixture and cover the fermenting container.
Your kombucha will take anywhere from a few days to a couple of weeks to ferment. The higher the temperature, the quicker you’re kombucha will ferment. We actually like to let ours go a bit longer at cooler temperatures in the cellar to develop a bit more flavor. As a general guideline you can expect your kombucha to be ready to drink in about nine days but you can start tasting it for doneness after five. Always keep the container covered. Fruit flies love fermenting kombucha.
This post originally appeared at The Sugar House’s Blog of Cocktails and general malaise.
I’ve been drinking lots of mezcal lately and was inspired to get off my fat and lazy ass and actually make a post for yous alls.
Mezcal Old Fashioned
2 oz. Del Maguey Vida Mezcal
.5 oz. Cucumber Syrup
Dash Peychaud’s
Build in glass, add ice, stir.
If you’re not down with the mezcal yet, I suggest you leave work early, head straight to the local liquor store, buy a bottle and drink it your car in the parking lot. But please friends, don’t drive drunk. No, instead, just sit there, drinking in your car for a few hours, and then pass out, and then wake up at 11:15pm and wonder where the hell you are, and then look at your phone and you’ve got all these angry text messages from your wife and you’re like shit dude, not again… not again.
Anyways, mezcal is to tequila as Islay scotch is to corn whiskey. Smokey, peppery, delish. I recently used it instead of Laphroaig in a tequila variation on the Penicillin with much success. And Vida is the cheapest kind from Del Maguey. I think it retails for around $45.00, as opposed to Chichicapa or some of the other ones that are $65.00+.
Cucumber Syrup
In your Champion juicer that your mom got you for Christ day, juice one half of an English style cucumber (skin and all). To this, add just a tiny squeeze of lemon juice – maybe 1/4 of an ounce – and go about 3:2 juice to sugar ratio. Pour the sugar and juice into a large bottle and do the cold shake method… you don’t want to heat up the cucumber juice, it gets rather shitty.
Deadwood, the HBO series that I’m finally getting around to watching, has been on constant playback in my house of late. So I’ve been drinking an awful lot of whiskey. What better way to turn an otherwise passive television experience into an interactive one?
But when Sazeracs, Old Fashioneds, and straight up bourbon aren’t cutting it, I’ve also been tinkering with some new ideas as well.
Variations
Tentatively and uncreatively titled “Rumbaroni,” we have:
Foams
Fairly famous west coast bartender Jamie Boudreau invented a drink at his former place of employment, Vessel, called the Vessel 75. The drink is stirred bourbon and Peychaud’s served in an old fashioned glass and topped with a foam made of egg whites, water, lemon juice, and maple syrup. Having just acquired an iSi cream canister, I made a couple to excellent results.
But then it got me thinking about other possible variations. Here’s my first stab, a delicious but yet-to-be-perfected variation on the Mojito / Gin-Gin Mule theme.
Thoroughly Modern Mojito
Coffee and Coffee Syrup
My friend John shared with me some coffee syrup he used to re-create a drink he had at the Violet Hour in Chicago. Here’s our effort at duplicating it:
Still having tons of syrup left, I’ve played around a bit more. Thus far, my favorite original drink using the syrup is as follows:
I also took a stab at a few coffee-based drinks, one of which I’ll mention here.