Going to the Dogs: Cocktails in Honor of Westminster

One of my favorite convergences occurs this week: the fantastical worlds of New York Fashion Week and the Westminster Dog Show. Gorgeous Rodarte-clad creatures are stalking Lexington Avenue.

Gorgeous sighthounds, wearing the style of millennia past, are lounging off Seventh.

There is best at the show at Marc Jacobs, and there's Best in Show at Madison Square Garden, and it all calls for a toast. Helping us with our theme, we can turn to The Cocktail Bible: Traditional and Modern Cocktails for Every Occasion by Linda Doeser which contains a whole page on canine-named cocktails.

The Cocktail Bible builds on the Greyhound foundation—vodka and grapefruit juice with a lime wedge. Pictured here, straight up with a salted rim, the drink becomes a Salty Dog, and there are many more variations on the motif.

There is The Great Dane:

2 oz. gin
1 oz. cherry brandy
1/2 oz. dry vermouth
1 tsp. kirsch
Fill cocktail shaker with ice. Pour all ingredients and shake until frost forms on the outside of the shaker. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with lemon peel.

There are also recipes for the Beagle, the Bloodhound, the Black Dog (no relation to the ubiquitous Black Dog of Martha's Vineyard), and the Mad Dog, which, of course, is every dog in the ring who doesn't end up with that little liver treat.

There are many great recipes for a Westminster party in The Cocktail Bible, but one of my favorite canine drinks can be found in Jeff Hollinger and Rob Schwartz's The Art of the Bar—The Salty Poodle. An adaptation of the Salty Dog, this drink sidles over into welcoming margarita territory.



The Salty Dog

1 oz. silver tequila
3/4 oz. fresh lime juice
1/2 oz. fresh grapefruit juice
1/2 oz. Cointreau
1/4 Fee Brothers falernum
dash of creme de cassis

Combine all the ingredients in an ice-filled cocktail shaker. Shake until frost develops on the outside of the shaker. Strain into a salt-rimmed cocktail glass. Await blue ribbon.

As we celebrate the final announcement of Best in Show, a word about Fee Brothers is in order. A Rochester, New York company, Fee Brothers has a history that would rival the American Kennel Club in breadth and depth. Their bitters selection, especially orange, is an absolute necessity when attempting to slog one's way through all the lovely cocktail books on the market now. The falernum named in the above recipe is a cocktail mixer with Caribbean flavors of lime, ginger, and almond.

As the judge is about to place an overly large ribbon on someone's best friend...Forget the mixed drinks! Open up that bottle of Oban Scotch. Hickory, the beautiful Deerhound, has just won. Take that, all you lapdogs. Sighthounds rule!

Originally published on Blogcritics
Photos: AP

The Currant Affair

My poor, neglected cocktail blog. Sniff. Since I've been on the jury for the 1st Irish Theatre festival, everything, laundry, cooking, cocktails, everything has been shoved aside for a show and a quick glass of wine at intermission. Two weeks I'll be done. In the meantime, I'm reprinting a column I wrote for the wonderful Lazaro Cooks blog this summer. Check out the site. He whips up pure gold and not just the Yukon puree kind.

The column also made an appearance on the Sweet Southern Prep blog. It's a delightful mix of food and fashion and all in pink and green.

Both sites are very popular with lots of comments. Thank you both for spreading good cheer.

Happy Hour at the Farmer’s Market: A Currant Affair

There are some people whose happy hours are spent at the week-end farmer’s market. And then there are those people whose happiest hours are well past the time the farmers have packed up their goat cheese. The drinking class would do well, however, to rise with the roosters and check out what’s being brought to market for there are infinite possibilities for a summer cocktail at the nearby farmer’s stand. Remember, think globally, drink locally.

A recent trip to a nearby farmer’s market in Bronxville, NY ( a town, farmers take note, that the New York Times reported today, is not suffering from the real estate recession that is affecting the rest of the country) offered lots of inspiration for this article.

To begin with, there’s the ubiquitous cucumbers and fresh basil here in Bronxville as in any Farmer’s Market this time of year. As bartender Adam Schuman, from Brooklyn’s Fatty 'Cue proves, basil and cucumber make for a considerable combination in a cocktail.

The South Sixth:

2 oz. gin (or vodka)


2 cucumber slices (1/16 in. thick)


2 basil leaves


1 oz. cardamom simple syrup


1 oz. lemon juice


1 oz. ginger beer

Muddle cucumber, basil and simple syrup in a pint glass. Add gin and lemon juice. Shake over ice for ten seconds. Double strain into iced highball glass. Top with ginger beer and garnish with cucumber wheel. Serve on patio.

When shopping, don’t just buy fresh basil. Buy the plant! Help yourself to the fragrant basil leaves with the South Sixth sense calls you. I bought 2 basil plants for $3 at the market, and you just have to admit, that is a bargain. I placed the plants in my container gardens to ward off my black gardening thumb for just a little while longer.

Mr. Schuman, my hero., also came up with a even more refreshing variation on the cucumber theme: muddling cucumber with the cardamom simple syrup, strain over ice, adding St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur, grapefruit juice, sparkling wine and club soda to taste.

Moving beyond the cucumbers, I couldn’t pass by the red currants. Basically because I cannot resist bright, shiny objects.

I was wowed by what looked like thousands of dazzling rubies. I didn’t know anything about the berry at the time but bought some in confidence that I could find something to make with them. They were just too beautiful not to be perfect in some sort of beverage or another.

It turns out that for once my overconfidence paid off - red currants make a wonderful cocktail. Fresh, they are tart like a cranberry, and we all know how important cranberry is in today’s mixology.

Here is a variation of a Red Currant Martini recipe that I found online:

2 oz. gin

2 oz. red currant simple syrup

1 oz. limoncello

1/3 oz. fresh lemon juice

Garnish with red currants.

In a cocktail shaker, muddle 1/4 cup of red currants and lemon juice. Add gin and limoncello and fill with ice. Shake til frost forms on the outside of the shaker. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with red currants.

As you can see, the red currant martini, pictured with some of the spoils of the day, a looks much like a cosmopolitan but falls on the sweeter side of a well-made cosmo. It might do better on the rocks as most summer drinks do.

I was unwilling to stop there because I felt that the above martini, while perfectly presentable, did not do justice to these beautiful berries. So I went exploring further in hopes of having something new to offer here as a guest blogger.

It’s amazing what a deadline (and a good Japanese soft drink) will do.

Drum roll. Unveiling.

A Michael Giacchino swell of music.

I bring you a Currant Affair.

3 oz. vodka

2 oz. red currant simple syrup

Unsweetened grapefruit soda.

Red currants for garnish.

To make a red currant simple syrup, dissolve one cup sugar in one cup water over low flame. When the sugar dissolves, add one cup of red currants. Stir and let cool. Pour into an airtight container and the syrup will last for up to four months.

In the Currant Affair, I used Gokurí Grapefruit Soda, a soft drink from the Japanese Beverage Company, Suntory. Gokurí, while difficult to find if you don’t live near a Japanese grocery, is particularly wonderful in cocktails. It was the true key to this cocktail’s succes: Gokurí has real fruit pulp, and it doesn’t hide the grapefruit tartness with sugar. It’s a very sophisticated beverage, and the same effect could be had with grapefruit juice and some club soda. You don’t want to use an American grapefruit soda like Squirt, as good as Squirt is, because it is too sweet and will pile on and overpower your currants.

Next week-end, take a morning walk through the local farmer’s market to see what’s possible for the evening cocktail. Next time, I’m going back to load up on more red currants. I hear that Martha has a great recipe for a red currant puree, one that goes perfectly with champagne. In the meantime, I have a particularly aromatic bunch of lavender that I will work with; I just know it will enhance some happy hour.

It's No Sin If There's Gin

Now that we've moved beyond sweater weather and into summer (although here in the Northeast we hardly had what might be called a traditional spring—45 to 90—in Porsche-like acceleration), a Hendrick's Gin martini with a cucumber twist, like the one pictured below from the charming Red Hat Bistro, certainly makes a great warm weather drink.

The beautiful restaurant, housed in what was the factory boiler room of the Lord and Burnham Company, 19th-century manufacturers of greenhouses, is perfectly summer-situated on the Hudson River in Irvington, New York.

That was then:

This is now:

Now doesn't that renovation deserve a toast?

Although a gin martini hardly needs a tweak, being perfection unto itself, lately I've been finding variations (that don't include chocolate, thank you very much) that are intriguing. One of my favorite is the addition of cardamom.

In the ginger family, typically a cold-weather spice, cardamom, an old world flavor, makes a new world cocktail.

There are two types of cardamom, green and black. You are more likely to find green and can certainly use it to make the two recipes discussed here. If you come across the black, try that too. It was a slightly different flavor, more minty for lack of a better term, and certainly appropriate for a summer beverage.

The best way to use cardamom in a cocktail is through an infused simple syrup which we've made before here in The Speakeasy, but now we are going to up the ante. We will "pile on" and make a rich simple syrup which is exactly how it sounds. Whereas simple syrup is one part sugar dissolved in one part water, rich simple syrup is two parts sugar to one part water. Simple and sweet.

When making a cardamom simple syrup, boil one cup of water and 1/4 cup of cardamom seeds (not powder), and dissolve two cups of sugar in the water. Remove from heat and let cool. Strain to remove the seeds.

My first introduction to gin with that touch of cardamom was at the Tribeca Grand Lounge. Their Gin and Sin is a misnomer of a cocktail because there is no sin when there's gin.

Here is a close approximation to the Tribeca's Gin and Sin:

2 oz. gin

1 oz. lemon juice

1 oz. cardamom simple syrup

1 oz. blood orange juice

The more common navel orange will do almost as well, but always remember to use fresh squeezed fruit juice, whether lemon or orange, in your drinks.

Combine the ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Shake 'til a frost forms on the outside. Pour over a cocktail glass filled with ice. Garnish with an orange wheel. Very easy and very summery. This is a cocktail you can make by the pitcher for entertaining. Feel free to change the name for the family picnic.

Another, more elaborate and even more flavorful, cardamom cocktail (oh, the alliteration!) is the South Sixth, an Adam Schuman creation, found at Fatty 'Cue, his Brooklyn restaurant. The drink was featured in a recent New York Times slideshow. South Sixth:

2 oz. gin (or vodka)

2 cucumber slices (1/16 in. thick)

2 basil leaves

1 oz. cardamom simple syrup

1 oz. lemon juice

1 oz. ginger beer

Muddle cucumber, basil and simple syrup in a pint glass.

Add gin and lemon juice. Shake over ice for ten seconds. Double strain into iced highball glass. Top with ginger beer and garnish with cucumber wheel. Serve on patio.

This is another cocktail that benefits from sitting around on ice. Make a pitcherful for your guests. There is a lot of herbaceous flavor going on here between the cucumber and the basil. It's as if you wandered into the neighbor's garden. There are gardens in Brooklyn, you know.

The Income Tax Cocktail: Some People Call Me Maurice

It's that time of year... when the nation bites its nails, and every sound you hear seems to say: "I owe what?!" April 15th looms, the tax filing deadline approaches, and the only sensible thing to do is drink. Responsibly, of course.

I haven't uncovered exactly why this drink is called The Income Tax Cocktail. I can only assume it is so named because it numbs the pain of filing a return. The Income Tax Cocktail actually began as the Bronx Cocktail, "a sister to the Manhattan," as described in Ted Haigh's Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, because of its call for gin rather than whiskey.

To further complicate the genealogy research, The Bronx Cocktail is basically a Perfect Martini with fresh orange juice, and was at one time a very popular drink. By a Perfect Martini, I mean perfect with a capital "P" — gin with sweet and dry vermouth. In most cases now, if you order a Perfect Martini, a bartender will assume you would like a well-made dry martini. Such are the times.

Back to New York City's northern borough, the Bronx: in 1934, according to some sources, The Bronx Cocktail ranked number three in the world's top ten cocktail list, which just goes to show you how old David Letterman really is.

So if you are keeping score so far, gin with sweet and dry vermouth and freshly squeezed orange juice is the Bronx Cocktail. If you add some bitters, it becomes the Income Tax Cocktail! This recipe is lifted right out of Ted Haigh's most excellent book:

1 1/2 oz. gin
3/4 oz. dry vermouth
3/4 oz. sweet vermouth
juice of 1/4 of an orange (squeezed right into the shaker)
2 dashes of Angostura Bitters

Shake in an iced cocktail shaker and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange wheel.

This is a very easy cocktail to make at home but not that easy to find out and about. Even if you were to come upon a bartender who knew of what you speak, the chances of fresh oranges, squeezed at the bar, may be slim. But do try it if you find yourself at a haute cocktail lounge.

A note on the great Angostura Bitters stand-off: (Actually it deserves more than a note, probably a whole column, but this will have to suffice — I have to do my taxes.) Earlier this year, there was a worldwide shortage of this certain type of bitters that sent ripples through the bartending world. Due to a rift between the House of Angostura in Trinidad and its bottle supply company, production of Angostura Bitters stopped between November and February. People were frantically trying Fee Brothers aromatic bitters or The Bitter Truth brand bitters from Germany — both worthy alternatives but not the household name we know. Things are back to normal or so I've heard, and that's a good thing for hangover remedies that require ginger ale and Angostura Bitters, but you still might find the singular bottle scarce on some shelves.

Some old bartender guides will name the Income Tax Cocktail as the Maurice. Now the question remains: is it Morris as the British pronounce it or Maurice as Steve Miller deems it? Well, he is the pompitous of love, whatever that may be. My recommendation for how to order? Drop the Income Tax moniker. It brings up too many bad memories. Order a Bronx with Bitters and set a trend in motion.

Encore du Champagne!

Margo: Encore du champagne, Waiter: More champagne, Miss Channing? Margo: That’s what I said, bub!

In 1944's Meet Me in St. Louis, Judy Garland famously encouraged us to "have a merry little Christmas." The original draft of the song also told us to "pop that champagne cork" because this time next year, heaven forbid, "we might all be living in New York." And seeing as recent news headlines designated New Yorkers to be the unhappiest people in all fifty states, that is indeed a reason to drink.

The lovely old sentiment in "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" has a perfect wistfulness for the holiday season, with anticipation for the fun to come and nostalgia for times past, but at the time, it was too sad for some. In final versions of the song, in an attempt to cheer things up a bit, songwriter Hugh Martin reluctantly changed some of the lyrics. The lines "Let your heart be light / Next year all our troubles will be out of sight" attempted to jolly things up. The amended song grew to be one of the most popular in the Christmas canon. And perhaps it can be said that "Have yourself a merry little Christmas / It could be your last" is a line only a New Yorker could love.

So do pop that champagne cork to jolly things up — for Christmas and for New Year's! If you are having a New Year's party, champagne is expected, of course, but try some champagne cocktails to gladden and invigorate your party. Turn to those "happy golden days of yore" for ideas on how to enliven familiar champagne concepts!

New Year's. It can be amateur night, but oh, the champagne. A good champagne makes all that counting down, kissing strangers, up way past my bedtime, all worth it. Champagne, a perfect drink to celebrate what's past, what's present, what's future.

The Champagne Cocktail

The first champagne cocktail we'll discuss is the Champagne Cocktail. This drink couldn't be easier, but your New Year's guests don't need to know this. In a champagne flute, place one sugar cube and four dashes of Angostura bitters. Fill with champagne. Garnish with a lemon twist.

I took the Champagne Cocktail for a test drive at one of my favorite theatre hangouts, Angus McIndoe's in New York City. Across the street from The Phantom of the Opera at the Majestic and next door to the St. James Theatre, there are plenty of theatre types there for celebrity sightings, at least for a theatre geek like myself. Best sighting? Matthew Broderick with his small son in tow. No one approached him for an autograph. Angus McIndoe's is a home away from home.

The Champagne Cocktail has a beautiful rosy hue and has a built-in hangover remedy. I've always been a proponent of bitters for the morning after. The morning after — I'll think about that tomorrow.

Another easy champagne cocktail to try for a different take on a New Year's party is the French 75. A more sophisticated take on the theme, the French 75 is named for a World War I gun. The innovator supposedly didn't get enough kick out of champagne. Sometimes, the recipe calls for cognac instead of gin, but I find that the lighter flavor of the gin sits well with the champagne.

The French 75

2 oz. gin
1 oz. fresh lemon juice
2 tsp. superfine sugar
champagne

Shake the first three ingredients with ice in a cocktail shaker until frost develops on the outside of the shaker.

Strain into a champagne flute and top with champagne. Stir gently and garnish with a lemon spiral and a cherry. Like the gun it was named for, the drink kicks with remarkable accuracy.

If you have time after Christmas, visit your local Williams Sonoma store. On the 27th and 28th of December, they are offering demonstrations in mixing cocktails. Call your local store for more information. Any good ideas, please share with the rest of us! And remember, "from now on, we'll have to muddle through somehow. Have yourself a merry little Christmas" — and a merry, grand New Year's.

No good times like the olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who were dear to us
Will be near to us no more.
But at least we all will be together
If the Lord allows
From now on, we'll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

The Side Car: A Drink That Tastes Much Better than It Sounds

I have been thinking about Sidecars a lot lately. Hasn't everyone?

Well, apparently yes, they have. In yesterday's mail, amidst all the Christmas catalogs, there arrived fashion designer Trina Turk's new advertising flyer. Trina is recommending the Sidecar for holiday entertaining. I say, "Sure! Let's! I was just thinking the same thing!"

The Sidecar came up frequently during my research into the Whiskey Sour. The Sidecar is a cousin, or at least it's in the same family--the Family Sour: a liquor base with a balance of sweet and sour.

The Sidecar is a Whiskey Sour relation: the relation with the much more intriguing name. Why a sidecar? What does this cocktail have to do with an extra seat attached to a motorcycle?

Perhaps the answer lies in the beginnings of the drink, which were at the end of World War One. It originated maybe in Paris, maybe in London, maybe on a motorcycle. Who knows?

A bartender needed to make an emergency cocktail while commuting. His only transportation--a motorcycle. Hilarity ensued.

One of the first mentions of the Sidecar is in Robert Vermeire's 1922 Cocktails: How To Mix Them,for those of you keeping score at home. The drink was supposedly invented by legendary bartender MacGarry of London's Buck Club, a true visionary not only of mixology but of the need to have only one name as a celebrity.

Here is the trusted recipe:

The Sidecar:
2 oz. of brandy or cognac
3/4 oz. of Cointreau or triple sec
3/4 oz. of fresh lemon juice
lemon wedge

With the lemon wedge, moisten rim of a coupe glass (it looks like an old-style champagne glass). A martini glass will do just as well. Sprinkle wet rim with superfine sugar. A true bartender will only coat half a glass with sugar to give the customer the option - to sugar or not to sugar.

Place the first three ingredients into a cocktail shaker full of ice. Shake well until a frost forms on the shaker. Strain into glass. Start your engines.

I recently visited the Chelsea area of New York City. At the always funHalf-King, a necessary stop on anyone's literary pub crawl since it is partially owned by Sebastian Junger of The Perfect Storm fame, I had the brainstorm to order a Chelsea Sidecar, a variation on our theme that calls for gin rather than brandy. I was confident that the bar would stretch to the occasion, not only because of geography but also because the Sidecar was on their drinks menu.

What resulted was a rather unpleasant gin gimlet. Lime juice and too much of it. There's nothing wrong with a gimlet, but that's for another column.

Moving onto Astoria, Queens, I tried again. That could have been a mistake too. Astoria has its own cocktail, basically a very wet martini with orange bitters. The neighborhood might not have been welcome to the idea of a Sidecar on 31st Avenue and 33rd Street, or 31st Street and 33rd Avenue, or 31st Road and 33rd Street. Astoria can be confusing. You don't want to have too many Sidecars, or you won't find your way out.

We visited the Brick Cafe, a charming little rustic chic Euro restaurant. Far from being defensive about the Astoria Cocktail, the waiter at the cafe was undaunted by the order of the Sidecar. And after the drink arrived, I could see why. It was excellent. So much so that visions of award ceremonies danced in my head. The Speakeasy's Award for most Unfazed Waiter, and maybe even The Speakeasy Award for Best Cocktail. Awards ceremony season is rapidly approaching. I'd better get to work on that. Just one more cocktail. I'll make it a stylish one on Trina Turk's good advice.

The Anthony Bourdain of Cocktails

Sometimes I have to down a cocktail against my better judgement so that you don't have to. Well, not that you would necessarily drink an Aviation Cocktail in the Jet Blue Lounge of JFK Int'l airport, but just in the slight case that you would, I threw myself in front of that bullet for you.

Notice the paper cup. That's so you can take it on the plane with you - against airline policy, you see.

I learned to do this after a conversation with a airline steward. Steward? Is that the right word? Anyway, we brought Bloody Marys on board after a particularly grueling visit to Haiti. Can you blame us?

Steward: You can't bring those on board with you!

Me: The bartender told us we could.

Steward: Well, of course HE would say that.

The Avation Cocktail: Hendrick's Gin, Maraschino Liqueur, fresh lemon juice. Dreadful. If only I had listened to American Airlines.

Speaking of Anthony Bourdain, we made a special trip to Schwabl's this past week-end. It was featured on Bourdain's No Reservations, and I experienced great pains of guilt at never visiting it myself....considering it is three miles from the family home.

Here are my dining companions. The lovely Jack and the lovelier Caroline.

At Schwabl's, justly famous for its roast beef on a kummelweck roll, Columbus Day falls between its two signature cocktails. The Ebeneezer Punch is available from Memorial Day to Labor Day, and the Tom and Jerry - featured on the Bourdain segment - is served from Thanksgiving Eve to St. Patrick's Day.

Bad timing for a visit but the food was wonderful, and the glass of Peter Brum Riesling was a nice consolation.

Here is the Bourdain segment: Part 1 and Part 2

Love You a Long Time

Photo by Carmen E. Lopez

I have a new camera with a setting specifically for taking pictures of vintage cocktails. So this blog is renewed! I probably won't mention the children...much. But they are one of the reasons why I drink.

First stop is the Park in Chelsea, 118 10th Ave. Right off the High Line. Fantastic way to spend a beautiful September Sunday afternoon. Remember - walk the High Line, then drink cocktails. Not the other way around.

One of the Park's signature cocktails was the Love You a Long Time. A thing of beauty! Ingredients were Hendricks Gin, muddled lemon and cucumber, St. Germaine Elderflower Liqueur. All with a sugar rim.

Service was lovely. Waitress accurately described the drink as "sweet, but not too." Atmosphere was pleasant with extra stars for the appearance of Michael Richards doing his best Cosmo Kramer.