Lemon Drop

At some point during the earlier stages of the pandemic I stumbled across a recipe for the Lemon Drop, a 1970s-era sweet vodka concoction. Lacking vodka, but stocked full of gin, I swapped the main ingredient and made a few other alterations to produce what I insist is a more grownup and fragrant interpretation, whose name I liked and kept.

Lemon Drop

(Serves 2)

3 oz gin
1.5 oz triple sec
1.5 oz lemon juice
0.75 oz simple syrup
1 oz egg white

Dry shake all the ingredients (without ice) until the egg white is pillowy. Add ice and shake again until the ingredients are chilled. Strain into a chilled coupe.

Although not pictured above, I have been known to dash a couple of drops of Angostura bitters on the surface of the drink before serving, Pisco Sour-style.

Blood & Sand

I don't generally go for sweet cocktails, but just occasionally they're so well constructed that the sweetness seems appropriate. Even more occasionally, they involve Scotch whisky too - fetch me my cocktail shaker!

The Blood & Sand, which I tasted for the first time at The Player a few months back, was created for the premiere of the 1922 movie of the same name - a bullfighter-romance starring Rudolf Valentino. That's the story, now the recipe.

Blood & Sand

22.5ml (0.75oz) Scotch whisky
22.5ml (0.75oz) orange juice
22.5ml (0.75oz) sweet vermouth
22.5ml (0.75oz) cherry brandy liqueur

 Pour ingredients into a cocktail shaker with ice and shake well. Double strain into a chilled martini glass.

For the Scotch, I picked Bailie Nicol Jarvie, a fine blend and perfect for cocktails, while for the cherry brandy-based liqueur I used De Kuyper (24% abv), although I keep reading that the slightly dearer Cherry Heering is best. I've also heard it suggested, repeatedly, that modern tastes might prefer less of the sweet stuff, with an ounce each of the whisky and orange and 3/4 ounces each of vermouth and cherry. I tried this and, sure, it's slightly Scotchier, and maybe more refined. But I still like the original - sublimely sweet and quite moreish.

Buy Bailie Nicol Jarvie from The Drink Shop here. Don't forget the sweet vermouth and the cherry brandy. I'll leave you to figure out the oranges.

Peaches and Cream

It's not often I feel the urge to drink peaches and cream. But when I do, I can follow the following recipe (and so can you):

Peaches and Cream

50ml (1.6oz) Archers peach schnapps

20ml (0.6oz) double cream

80ml (2.6oz) soda water

Shake schnapps and cream in a cocktail shaker with ice. Strain into a high-ball glass with fresh ice, top with soda water and stir some more.

Move over, Girly Drink, you've been out-girled.

Bramble

Created by Dick Bradsell in London's Soho, in the nineteen-eighties, the Bramble marries gin, lemon and sweetness in a fruitier reinvention of the 19th century Gin Fix, or sour.

Bramble

60ml (2oz) gin
30ml (1oz) fresh lemon juice
15ml (0.5oz) simple syrup
15ml (0.5oz) Creme de Mure (blackberry liqueur)
Blackberries to garnish

Fill a tumbler with crushed ice, add gin, lemon and simply syrup and stir. Add more ice if required. Drizzle Creme de Mure on top and garnish with blackberries.

If you can be bothered with crushing ice (required for extra dilution) the Bramble is well worth a try. It's been described elsewhere as England's answer to the Cosmopolitan - but don't let that put you off.

Random Drink

Just as a monkey at a typewriter will eventually produce a readable sonnet, so my attempts to throw random leftover ingredients together will occasionally generate a drinkable cocktail. This was one of those occasions.

Random Drink

60ml (2oz) peach schnapps
15ml (0.5oz) triple sec
60ml (2oz) Appletiser
7.5ml (0.25oz) lime juice
2 dashes orange bitters
180ml (6oz) soda water

Stir ingredients with ice in a tall glass.

Fruity and refreshing. 

Margarita (2010 recipe)

Note: Since I wrote this post in 2010 I've settled on a new recipe.

Learning how to make a Margarita is as easy as 1, 2, 3. One part lime, two parts orange liqueur and three parts tequila - shaken with ice and served straight up in a fancy glass or on the rocks in a tumbler - with or without a rim of coarse-grained salt.

Those are the basic variations. Some prefer different proportions (more tequila, say, or more lime juice), some add simple syrup, some replace the orange liqueur with fresh orange juice; others throw the whole lot in a blender for a frozen drink. Here's my personal favourite, at least for now:

Margarita

1.5oz tequila

1oz Cointreau (or other orange liqueur)

0.75oz fresh lime juice

0.25oz simple syrup 

Throw the ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice and shake well. Strain into a tumbler with fresh ice.

When it comes to the tequila, look for something made from 100% agave (which rules out that Jose Cuervo mixto nonsense you find in most British bars). A silver/blanco tequila might taste more refreshing, if that's what you're after on a sunny day, while a reposado will provide a richer flavour. I'm ambivalent about salt: as long as it doesn't run down the inside of the glass it can make a nice addition, but generally I don't bother. As for the glass, I used to like those fiddly martini vessels (pictured top) without ice. Recently I've preferred a tumbler with rocks.

Another dilemma (not all dilemmas are bad, see) is what to pick for the orange element. I tried a little taste test, constructing three margaritas with standard triple sec, Cointreau and brandy-based Grand Marnier (read more about the liqueurs here).

* With the triple sec, the margarita was thin, but the tequila came through. This was the tartest of the three, and might make for a good aperitif.

* Cointreau produced my favourite of the trio: very orangey, with a strong orange aroma, slightly sweeter than the first, and well-balanced with the tequila.

* Grand Marnier stepped up the orange even further. This was more of an orange drink than a tequila/lime one. It tasted altogether different than the others - heavy, thick, sweet: orange brandy with a tequila kick - better as a digestif.

Whatever you choose, choose a Margarita. Did I mention how amazing this drink can be? One of the best.

Triple Secs

Plenty of cocktails call for orange liqueur of various manifestations. It would seem that triple sec is a generic term for a dry, colourless, orange-based liqueur, Curaçao describes sweeter liqueurs distilled from the peel of Caribbean Curaçao oranges in particular, and Cointreau and Grand Marnier are specific brands of orangey booze, which depending on the authority consulted either fall into one of the two previous categories or demand their own. It's enough to drive one to orange-flavoured drink (tasting notes below).

Iseo Triple Sec
An Italian triple sec, weighing in at just 15% abv.

Appearance: Clear.
Nose: Orange peel, lemony citrus, soap, astringent.
Taste: Slightly sweet, dryness, violet, floral, orange flower water.
Verdict: Cheap and uncheerful.

Cointreau
40% abv. Produced in Angers, France, from European and South American bitter oranges.
Appearance: Clear.
Nose: Richer, orange, sweeter, zingy.
Taste: Sweet, boozy, orange liqueur.
Verdict: A whole different class to the bog-standard triple sec, but still too sweet by itself.

Grand Marnier
40% abv. Also French, made from a blend of cognacs, pairs well with crêpes.
Appearance: Golden/orange.
Nose: Sweet and rich, brandy, honey.
Taste: Sweet, burnt orange, caramelised, rich, long finish.
Verdict: The grandaddy of orange liqueurs.

If I had to drink any of them straight, with ice, I'd go for Grand Marnier. But that would be missing the point of orange liqueurs, which is to assist in the production of a certain tequila cocktail. More here...

Blue Nimbus

I've decided to consolidate my drinks cupboard. Out will go all the idiosyncratic bottles whose reasons for purchase were never clear enough, freeing up more space for the good stuff (whisky, gin, bourbon, wine, beer, maybe tequila). As part of this process, I've started looking for ways of using up the stranger stuff, and into this category firmly falls Smirnoff Nordic Berries vodka. There ain't nothing wrong with it - it's smooth, certainly, and served over ice can provide an interesting blue-flavoured twist to the ordinary spirit. But it's appeal is nevertheless limited, so it has to go. For a party of seven, I came up with a cocktail using the Smirnoff and a couple of other bits I had lying around. Note that the mixture can be prepared in advance, before being topped off with soda water for drinking on demand. The recipe is for a single serving.

Pre-prepared mixture

Blue Nimbus

60ml (2oz) Smirnoff Nordic Berries vodka

22.5ml (0.75oz) creme de mure (blackberry liqueur)

22.5ml (0.75oz) lime juice

1 tbls apple and blueberry puree
Soda water

Add the vodka, creme de mure, lime juice and puree into a cocktail shaker with a couple of ice cubes and shake to mix thoroughly. Pour into a highball glass. When ready to serve, drop in a few ice cubes and stir again before topping off with chilled soda water.

I can't say I was familiar with the concept of Nordic berries, but a quick search turned up cloudberries, hence the Nimbus in this drink's name. Never mind that said berries are actually yellow. The cocktail was fruity and refreshing, with the puree and creme de mure adding structure. The Nordic berry flavour was much diluted, but the overall impression of blue fruit was unmistakable.

Porch Swing

M spotted the recipe for this great summer cocktail from the Smitten Kitchen blog. It's a great twist on the usual Pimm's and lemonade, and the cucumber is exceptional.

Porch Swing

45ml (1.5oz) Hendrick's Gin

45ml (1.5oz) Pimm’s No. 1

120ml (4oz) homemade lemonade*

7-Up or bottled lemonade

10 paper-thin half moon slices of cucumber 

Pour gin, Pimm’s and lemonade into tall glass. Add a few ice cubes and a splash of 7-Up. Finish with cucumber slices.

*Homemade Lemonade:

1 part freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 part simple syrup**

2 parts water

**Simple syrup:

1 part sugar

1 part water

Add boiling water to sugar and stir until sugar is dissolved.

Jägerbomb

The Jägerbomb is Jägermeister and Red Bull. If you look carefully at the picture above you can see a smaller shot glass sitting inside a larger tumbler. That's the J-bomb primed to go off.

How To:

Fill a shot glass with Jägermeister and half-fill a tumbler with Red Bull. Drop the shot glass into the tumbler and sink the lot.

It's actually not as bad as it sounds, and it made a change from the usual sambuca or mixto tequila shots. I want to write more about Jägermeister, a 35% abv digestif made with herbs and spices, but I'll leave that for another post, since its 'complex flavours' are probably wasted here.

Aviation

Seeing this photo (above) makes me smile, since it reminds me of the night I spent roaming the streets of Paris looking for lemons. It came about after I picked up a bottle of Luxardo Maraschino liqueur from a strange little deli rammed full of curiosities and booze. This clear, dry cherry drink (32% vol) tastes floral and bittersweet - not particularly pleasant by itself. As a constituent ingredient in a cocktail, however, it comes highly recommended. Scouring the interweb for a recipe to test it out, I came across the gin-based Aviation, which I thought at the very least had an appealing name. And so, on our way back to T and A's flat after a night out, I stopped off at a number of corner stores and used some fairly dodgy French to procure lemons and gin. The proper Aviation recipe also calls for a touch of Creme de Violette, a liqueur made from violet flowers, but sadly it wasn't to hand, I thought I'd already shown willing by getting hold of the Maraschino, and, frankly, life isn't long enough for this shit.

Aviation

60ml (2oz) gin
15ml (0.5oz) Maraschino liqueur
15ml (0.5oz) lemon juice
Lemon peel

Pour ingredients into a mixing glass with plenty of ice and stir well. Strain into a serving glass and garnish with a twist of lemon peel.

I have slightly hazy memories of this one, having constructed it under the influence of French wine. I do recall a sharp, floral drink with a charming kick (the best kind). We barely used any Maraschino, but with good reason - a rather reckless attempt to get more cherry by adding more of the liqueur spoiled the balance of the drink somewhat (don't mess with the ratios!). I will now resist the urge to conclude this post with gratuitous references to lift-offs, flying successes and top guns. There.

Kir Petillant

Yet another way to make ordinary fizzy wine taste less ordinary. Creme de Mure (15% vol) is made with blackberries, and a dash added to a glass of non-descript prosecco made for a decent pre-dinner drink. According to strict teachings, this cocktail was a Kir Petillant, rather than a Kir Royale, since it used sparkling wine rather than champagne. Disconcertingly for pedants, however, both Kirs are traditionally made with Creme de Cassis (blackcurrant), rather than de Mure, placing a question mark over the correct name for our alternative. Still, if there are times to avoid getting bogged down by definitions, this is one of them: drink while the bubbles are lively.

Serendipitea

So, there's this thing called Mixology Monday, in which online cocktail enthusiasts exchange wisdom about mixed drinks. This month's challenge was to come up with a winning concoction involving tea, and I thought I'd dip in my oar.

Rooibos is not technically a tea at all, but fortunately the design brief permitted other infusions (known as tisanes, apparently), so I immediately fell upon my box of Rooibos Vanilla, which I insist tastes like custard. The only vanilla-ey bottle in my collection was the brandy-based Tuaca liqueur, which also hints at orange, and that reminded me of a lovely rum blazer I'd had at a Soho bar a couple of years ago, which used orange peel to great effect, prompting me to pull out my Havana Club (Anejo Reserva). A little more sweetness was needed, triggering the triple sec, with an orange twist to underline the point.

Serendipitea

90ml (3oz) Rooibos Vanilla tea
30ml (1oz) golden rum

15ml (0.5oz) Tuaca

15ml (0.5oz) triple sec

Orange twist

Steep one Rooibos Vanilla teabag in about 4oz of boiling water for a good five minutes to make the most of it. While it's stewing, pour the rum, Tuaca and triple sec into a cocktail shaker with plenty of ice. Add 3oz of (still hot) tea and stir well to make everything cold. Strain into a delicate-looking glass and garnish with an orange twist, taking care to spray the surface with a good deal of oil from the peel.

This is a most partakable brew tasting of vanilla and orange and - is that caramel? Easy to drink (not too sweet, not too bitter), just about enough booze to count, and, crucially, it doesn't taste like cold tea. If anyone's willing to give it a try I'd love to hear their comments. But first, go to CocktailVirgin, the host of this month's episode of MxMo, and see what delightful drinks the experts have conjured.

Tuscan Mustang

I am a firm believer in Tuaca, having first tried it in Brighton about five years ago. The brandy-based Italian liqueur (35%) tastes mainly of vanilla, with hints of citrus and a little caramel. The manufacturer recommends drinking it chilled and straight, but for me it's a little syrupy and sweet to sip like that, which is why I got used to drinking Tuaca inside a Tuscan Mule (with ginger ale/beer and lime wedges - think Moscow without the vodka).

The problem is, most recipes call for 50ml of Tuaca to be served in a highball glass with ice and "topped up" with ginger ale, at which point the liqueur risks being diluted to death. This is certainly how it's served in most bars, and I'm guessing "ginger ale with notes of  vanilla" is not exactly what Tuaca's creators, nor indeed God, intended.

And so, in the spirit of free inquiry, I dusted off my sadly neglected bottle of the golden-brown nectar and set about remixing the recipe. By and by, I settled on this simple tweak:

60ml (2oz) Tuaca
60ml (2oz) ginger ale*
1/4 lime

*While some recipes call for ginger beer for its stronger taste, I find it masks Tuaca's more fragile flavours.

Throw a few ice cubes into a glass tumbler, add the Tuaca and ginger ale, squeeze lime wedges into drink and mix.

What a drink! It's short, rather than long, and the ratio of booze to mixer means the liqueur's vanilla essence really resonates, while the lime prevents the sweetness from overwhelming things. M likened it to a key lime pie, and why not?

Having triumphantly named this "new" drink the Tuscan Mustang, in a condescending nod to the tamer Mule, I was devastated to find some online recipes for the Mule already call for a similar concentration of Tuaca to mine. Indeed, the official Tuaca website proposes 1.5 parts Tuaca to 2 parts ginger ale.

However, I am not one to be distracted or dissuaded by mere facts. The truth remains that asking for a Tuscan Mule does not in practice guarantee one a decent cocktail, whereas a Tuscan Mustang, if it is to mean anything at all, promises a feral kick. I know which beast I prefer.

READ about the special relationship between Tuaca and Brighton here.