As the founder of the Society for the Preservation and Restoration of Classic Cocktails, you would think that I would welcome the resurgence of interest in cocktails, and the growth of a contemporary “cocktail culture”.
Indeed I do. I am glad to see such things as craft bitters and mixers, as well as small-batch liquors. The availability of absinthe and absinthe like substances (other than Pernod) also makes me happy.
But I’m wondering if we’ve gone too far.
For discussion purposes, I direct your attention to the July 2009 Spirit, the Southwest Airlines in-flight magazine. Starting on page 70, we have the “Spirit Guide to Spirits“, which purports to tell you what tools, mixers, and spirits you’ll need to “replicate at home what everyone drank in the ’30s, ’20s, and earlier”. The article also provides helpful recipes from five of “the best mixologists in America”. This list includes Robert Heugel of Anvil Bar and Refuge, a place I’m very interested in trying next time I’m in Houston.
But let’s take a look at the recipes. Heugel’s recipe for the “Border Storm” is probably the least complicated (a mix of dark rum and ginger beer); I think this would probably work well with a good quality commercial or craft ginger beer. Heugel’s recipe, though, calls for preparing your own ginger beer; the process he gives for this takes about three days to complete, including two days of fermentation, and yields about 48 ounces of ginger beer.
Next up, we have something called “Ninety Years of Aviation”, which “goes best with a creme de violette ‘caviar’.” What that involves is freezing a container full of canola oil, preparing a mix of creme de violette, Parfait Amour, lemon juice, and gelatin, placing that mixture into a squeeze bottle, squeezing drops into the cold canola oil to make ‘caviar’, then washing the ‘caviar’ with cold water (to get the oil off, of course). All of this is for something that’s served alongside the drink itself (which is gin, lemon juice, and maraschino liqueur, shaken over ice and strained into a cocktail glass).
After that, we have the “Ramos Gin Fizz Marshmallow”, which appears to be a basic marshmallow recipe, except for added flavors from gin, lemon and lime juice, and orange blossom water. Ever make your own marshmallows? Neither have I. Is there a point to doing marshmallows? What was wrong with the classic Ramos Gin Fizz?
Next, there’s the “Nubo Di Fumo”, which calls for smoking two strawberries “with cherry wood shavings in a stove-top smoker box”. In addition, the “Nubo Di Fumo” also calls for three slices of “oven-dried strawberries, for garnish”. We also have tequila, Galliano, agave nectar, and Banyuls vinegar. Never mind that strawberries are the most overrated of fruits; again, what are we doing here? Is there a point beyond trying to impress people enough so that they’ll pay $11 for a cocktail? (I’m just guessing; the “Nubo Di Fumo” is not on the cocktail menu at Absinthe.)
Finally, we have the “Bacon Old-Fashioned”. Ah, a classic bourbon cocktail. Only in this case, the bourbon isn’t just bourbon; it is bourbon that’s been infused. How? “…pour the (bacon) fat into a large glass jar and add the spirit, then swirl together. Cover and let the mixture sit in a cool, dry place for three days to one week, then refrigerate for 24 hours.” After which you strain off the congealed bacon fat, and you’re left with bacon flavored bourbon. I like my bacon more than the next guy, but seems to me to be an example of “Just because you can do it, doesn’t mean that you should.”
What is wrong with us? Does it take cheap gimmicks like bacon-infused bourbon and fake caviar for us to try the drinks of our fathers?
. I’ve read (and recommend) Wallace’s book; the Slate article gives a pretty good short summary of the whole Jefferson’s wines fraud. My opinion is that Wallace doesn’t libel Broadbent; he makes Broadbent look careless, but not criminal.