Arabian Nights

Sips

Juniper Genie Cocktail

The metamorphosis of this week’s cocktail was a bit of a long and winding road. A road, in point of fact, that begins France or thereabouts* and ends somewhere in or near Morocco. Neither place I’ve been but both I’d like to visit one of these days.

At any rate, it started back when I was, oh, 10 or 11 years old and a family friend was being cute(?) and singing the song Jennifer, Juniper and saying that my name (Jennifer) meant Juniper. Now, being the precocious child I was I had already looked up the meaning of my name in the massive Encyclopedic Dictionary we had at home and knew full well that Jennifer is a modernization of Guinevere and had absolutely nothing to do with junipers. And told them so. Snootily.

Despite the misleading connection in the song, it did make me think of Gin–one of our two base spirit options for this series–which only left me figuring out what to add. I went through several j-possibilties and eventually devolved into j-sounding ingredients and ginger was the winner.

Now, at first I was going to be cute and spell it Jin and Jinger but I needed something else. Namely, another ingredient, another flavor. And looking around my bar shelves I found rosewater and that was all it took. Suddenly my mind was filled with the scent of chai, we needed spice and we needed it now!

Juniper Genie

1 1/2 oz Gin
1/4 oz Rosewater
1/4 oz Grated Ginger
a generous pinch of Cardamom
1 oz Ginger Ale
Crystallized Ginger for garnish

Combine gin, rosewater, ginger and cardamom over ice and give it a good shake to wake up the genie inside. Double-strain (to get out all the ginger bits) into a chilled cocktail glass, top with the ginger ale and garnish with a piece of crystallized ginger.

The flavors of the drink are well-layered, each one asserting itself as you continue to sip. First comes the rosewater–the scent is very strong and dominant, followed by the warm, sweetish flavor of the cardamom. Under that, the bite of the ginger starts to assert itself and, subtly at the bottom is the herbal taste of the gin. It’s what I imagine a small spice market would taste like.

Usually I’d infuse the alcohol with the spice but this time it really wasn’t necessary. Cardamom is so expensive that a suitable quantity for infusion would have been risky and the dried spice shaken in was plenty to get the point across. If you’ve never had cardamom that you know of, it reminds me of Apple Jacks cereal.

*Further research shows that the singer, Donovan, was actually Scottish and became famous as an English folk singer but the last verse of the song in question is in French, hence my misunderstanding.

Have I Got a Dill For You!

Sips

As promised, this week in Alphatinis is a savory sipper perfect for hot summer days.

~~~oOo~~~

Pickled Puppy Martini

Pickled Puppy

I knew, when I (loosely) planned out this series, that D would have something to do with dill. A dill cocktail practically cries out for gin–it all but hops over and into the bottle just to be closer to the already herbalicious spirit. So a dill-infused gin it would be but then! Then I remembered this really nice cucumber-mint mojito with cucumber-infused gin I had once at Bonefish (whose cocktail menu I’ve found lacking in the past) so I decided to throw cucumber into the mix.

Infusing liquor is a fairly simple process: put your fruits or veggies or herbs* into a seal-able glass container, cover with base alcohol of choice and let sit until ready. It does, however, take time. I’m glad I started the infusion 5 days before it was time to try out the cocktail. In about 2 days the dill had made it’s mark but it took the other 3 for the cucumbers to really join the party and mellow the whole mix out. (For the curious I used half a cucumber, sliced, and one very fluffy sprig of dill to about 8 oz of dry gin.)

But what would I pair this very interesting gin with? I didn’t want to go too sweet, obviously, but I didn’t want it to be like drinking pickle juice, either!

Thinking about the gin drinks I enjoy–gin & tonic, gin & cranberry, gin & grapefruit–oh, wait, a twist on a Greyhound might be just the thing. And I happened to have a bottle of Pamplemousse rose Perrier on the shelf as well as pink grapefruit juice. Sold!

Pickled Puppy

2 oz Cucumber-Dill Gin
1 1/4 oz Pink Grapefruit-flavored Sparkling Water
splash of Pink Grapefruit Juice
garnish: cucumber, dill

Combine gin, water and juice over ice in a mixing glass and stir like a dog chasing his tail. Once thoroughly chilled, strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish.

I used a long strip of fresh cucumber threaded with dill and a bamboo skewer as a garnish but you could also use some of the cucumber rounds from the infusion. Keep in mind, though, that those cucumbers will be super-potent.

This cocktail turned out so well, my take on the more traditional Greyhound, that I’m keeping the infused gin on hand to make more this weekend–it’s a fabulous, low-impact summer cooler.

~~~oOo~~~

*Yes, I know you can infuse with proteins, too, but I just don’t see the point. Fat-washing doesn’t really appeal to me.

No clue, yet, what our e-themed cocktail will be. Guess we’ll all be surprised next week!

Beware the Hag With the Poisoned Apple

Sips

Welcome to the first of our new Alphatini series where we take a look at 26 varieties of the classic martini and come up with the best possible version of each, maybe even creating some new ones on the way.

~~~oOo~~~

A is for Apple

If we, in our gin-soaked haze, remember nothing else from those early learning years it’s that A is indeed for apple. That big, red, juicy fruit purported to keep the doctor away with one a day, win us extra points with the teacher and even find the first initial of our true love in it’s peel. Whether piled high in a pie, cooked down to sauce or juiced for convenience we’ve all had some sort of experience with apples in our life.

And while apples come in reds, greens, yellows and combinations thereof, exactly when did they become neon-hued and sour? While we may have become used to the chartreuse cocktail billed as an Appletini, it resembles an alcoholic candy more than what some believe the serpent tempted Eve with.

Let’s see if we can’t come up with something better, shall we?

Surveying the Orchard

Taking a quick stroll through bartending guides and web recipe repositories, the Appletini always seems to have a vodka base (sometimes a flavored vodka but often plain). The other main ingredient is apple schnapps–usually the sour sort like DeKuypers Apple Pucker. It’s not a bad ingredient, really, but I’d like to at least see a little apple juice in my apple martini (I know, shocking), not just booze. What I certainly don’t need is sour mix, citrus soda or cranberry juice mucking around my glass. They’re all find ingredients in their own right (well, except the sour mix–make your own!), just not what we really need here.

What could we add instead? Obvious would be apple juice or you could go even more direct with some apple puree. If you want to invoke the feel of a warm apple pie some vanilla and cinnamon would not go amiss (hello, vanilla vodka and maybe some cinnamon schnapps or syrup), even some condensed milk shaken in for that a la mode vibe. Or you could go a little classier with some Calvados (apple brandy) and a cinnamon stick for a cider-like cocktail.

In Search Of…

Caramel Apple Spice MartiniOnce, in a fairly decent chain restaurant, late one night after a holiday concert, I was intrigued enough to order a Caramel Apple Martini expecting something I wanted to just curl up in and take a nap. Instead what was brought to me was thin-tasting, bitter and gritty from the powdered cinnamon around the rim. The only thing it had in common with a real caramel apple was that it was sticky.

It’s so sad when a drink doesn’t live up to the menu’s hype.

Enter my solution: a dreamy, creamy caramel apple flavor with just a hint of spice. It’s definitely a dessert drink and even with less than 2 oz alcohol in there it’s pretty potent (the sugary ones always are). Sip it slowly and savor it.

Caramel Apple Spice Martini

1 1/4 oz Vanilla Vodka
1 1/4 oz Apple Juice
1/2 oz Caramel Sauce
1/4 oz Cinnamon Schnapps
Garnish: cinnamon-demerara sugar, apple slice, cinnamon stick

Combine the vodka, juice, caramel sauce and schnapps in a cocktail shaker over ice. Give it a good, long shake to toss the caramel sauce around and strain into a chilled cocktail glass rimmed with cinnamon-demerara sugar. Garnish with a slice of apple and a cinnamon stick.

The “secret” is to use a caramel sauce and not a syrup–the syrup will give a thinner mouth-feel and can have a very chemical edge to it. And yes, I mean sauce like you’d use for ice cream topping. When you mix the cinnamon sugar, go easy on the cinnamon–it really doesn’t take more than a sprinkle in a quarter cup of sugar (I prefer demerara for the natural color and large crystals) to get the point across without any grittiness.

For an extra treat, try sipping the drink through the cinnamon stick!

50 Shots of America–Alaska

Sips

East Meets EastI think it’s safe to say that more people know more about Alaska these days (thanks to shows like Ice Road Truckers, Gold Rush Alaska and, of course, the Palin family escapades in and out of the political arena) than they ever did when all we had was Northern Exposure, Jack London and the Iditarod to shape our opinions of the 49th state.

Back in Middle School (you may know of it as Junior High), we had a transfer student from Alaska and the one thing I remember her saying, difference-wise between there and here was that she was shocked at the number of single-story houses, here. Apparently two-story was the norm in her Alaskan town and the cost of living was much lower. Whether that was truly the case (we’re talking about the observations of 13-year-olds, here) it certainly isn’t now. But it’s what sticks as my co-earliest memory of the state.

It’s pair is one is one of the very (very) few things I retained from any sort of American History class–that the territory (purchased from Russia in 1867 at pennies per acre) was known, colloquially, as Seward’s Folly. Of course, once gold was discovered in Alaska (the big Klondike rush in 1896), the tune changed dramatically, though it wasn’t until January 3, 1959, that the Land of the Midnight Sun achieved statehood.

East Meets East

1 0z Vanilla Vodka
1 oz Pomegranate Juice
3/4 oz Sake
Crushed Ice

Combine the vodka, juice and sake over ice in a mixing glass. Shake vigorously, until the mixture resembles the icy tundra. Fill a small, chilled glass 3/4 full of crushed ice. Strain the cocktail over the fresh ice.

Why the 2 batches of ice? If you shake a drink with crushed ice, the amount of water you’re adding (i.e. dilution) will be greater and the ice will be “tired” when it’s time to sip your drink. If you don’t have an ice crusher, skip the blender and put some cubes in a clean flour-sack towel and beat it with your muddler or a rolling pin until the ice reaches the level of crush you desire.

This drink is a little larger than some of the “shots” I’ve featured in this series, but for the biggest state in the nation it seemed appropriate. Due to said size and the eastward spread of the Aleutian Islands, it’s both the westernmost and easternmost state in the United States. Obviously it’s also the northernmost state. The flavor influence of the drink is a nod to the early Russian settlers as well as the Japanese that occupied the aforementioned Aleutian Islands during WWII.

The pomegranate, though, was pure fancy on my part. The long stretches of darkness and light (polar night and midnight sun, respectively) that Alaska encounters made me think of the myth of Persephone and the pomegranate seeds. It adds color, flavor and balance to the vodka and sake mix.

50 Shots of America–Arizona

Sips

Copper TopAs with much of the southwest, what is now known as Arizona was first claimed by Spain, and then Mexico, before becoming known as Alta California. After that it was all kinds of shuffling as the CSA and USA differed on what to call it and where it’s boundaries really were, ending once and for all when it became the 48th state on February 14, 1912–do you think Oregon was jealous?

The Grand Canyon State wasn’t a popular place to live (unless you were in copper mining or cotton) until after World War II. What made the difference? Air conditioning. Suddenly that “dry heat” was much more bearable and became quite the place, mid-century, to retire to and escape those harsh winters of the Northeast and upper Midwest. Though now the state’s popularity is putting a strain on the water reserves–guess the monsoons of the winter and summer just aren’t enough to keep the water table up!

Another thing Arizona has in common with Florida (the first being a major retiree population)? It’s the home of the Cactus League, hosting more than a dozen MLB teams for spring training every year (in Florida it’s the Grapefruit League).

Copper Top

3/4 oz Gold Tequila
3/4 oz Orange Juice
1/2 oz Orange Liqueur

Combine all ingredients over ice in a mixing glass and shake like your serving drinks after dark in the darkest saloon in Tombstone. Strain into a chilled cordial glass–it’s hot out there!–and sip away your fears.

It makes sense that The Copper State has it in abundance–even the state Capitol building has a dome on it made with enough copper to make almost 5 million pennies! And I’m not sure if the state still produces citrus like they used to, but past is present when it comes to cocktails. I’d suggest using a Cointreau or Grand Marnier in this recipe–you want the smoothness that regular Triple Sec is not exactly known for, especially in such a small drink.

Early in its history, Arizona’s economy relied on the “five C’s”: copper (see Copper mining in Arizona), cotton, cattle, citrus, and climate (tourism).