Pernod Cocktail

It hasn't escaped my notice that this project, by its very nature, has made me pick up some of the famed ten warning signs of heavy drinking. When I was a kid, long before the advent of DARE, my classmates and I were taught to closely watch mommy and daddy for hints of incipient alcoholism. If any of these traits showed up, were were tasked with quickly reporting our parents to the appropriate authorities. To be honest, the whole thing was a little bit Orwellian.

At any rate, the ten warnings are:

1. Drinking alone
2. Making excuses, finding excuses to drink
3. Daily or frequent drinking needed to function
4. Inability to reduce or stop alcohol intake
5. Violent episodes associated with drinking
6. Drinking secretly
7. Becoming angry when confronted about drinking
8. Poor eating habits
9. Failure to care for physical appearance
10. Trembling in the morning

Well, although my wife generally takes a sip or two out of whatever potion I've made for the evening, I have to admit that I am, basically, drinking alone. I've been assured that this may well change when I switch from gin-based drinks to ... well, to anything that isn't gin-based. Virginia really, really hates gin.

Also, to be honest, I was somewhat angry when my Aunt made the assumption that doing this project will turn me into a raging alcoholic. I got especially ticked when she raised the specter of my cigarette smoking, offering it up as evidence that I have an addictive personality. Having never had problems with drinking -- and having quit smoking almost four years ago -- I found the summary judgment a little irritating.

But, beyond that, I think I'm pretty solid. I don't really tremble in the morning, although I have been known to stumble a bit, particularly if I didn't get enough sleep. While some may criticize my grooming, I feel like that's more of a general moral failing than any sort of drinking issue. As far as the rest, I think I'm on firm ground.

Even so, old indoctrinations die hard. Needless to say, I'm not going to be an idiot about this...

Today's drink was the Pernod cocktail. Again, I made it with Lucid absinthe; given that Pernod was originally an absinthe, I feel like I'm on firm ground with this switch.

The drink was initially a bit much. Lucid's incredibly strong licorice flavor completely overwhelmed the sugar and bitters. However, when the ice melted, the cocktail became milder and more flavorful.

Pernod Cocktail
(from The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide)

2 to 3 teaspoons water
2 to 4 dashes Angostura bitters
1/4 teaspoon powdered sugar
2 ounces Pernod

Put first three ingredients into chilled old-fashioned glass; stir well. Fill glass with crushed ice; add Pernod, stirring well.

Maurice

Some people call it Maurice...

Essentially a Bronx cocktail with bitters, the origins of the Maurice appear to have become lost in the fog of time. Regardless, it's a cool drink with a cool name, although I'd expect something named "Maurice" (whoop, whoo) to, perhaps, be a little more playful.

Maurice was also my maternal grandfather's name, although he pronounced it "Morris." Speaking of Maurice Kramer, I recently told one of his daughters, my Aunt Evie, about the "Bruce and Mr. Boston" project. She was initially pretty interested, but quickly began to lecture me about the dangers of demon rum -- or, more specifically, the dangers of getting drunk every night in the course of the search for greater wisdom. I pointed out that I'm only making one cocktail per night, that I've never had any sort of drinking problem, and that I'm obviously smart enough to stop if the project starts to go awry. I'm not sure she was reassured.

At any rate, the Maurice is cool, sweet, and tasty. Light and slightly frosty, with rich undertones, it makes a refreshing summer drink. I wonder if Aunt Evie would like it?

Maurice Cocktail
(from The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide)

1 ounce gin
1/2 ounce dry vermouth
1/2 ounce sweet vermouth
1/2 ounce fresh orange juice
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Shake ingredients with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass.

Rosita

In the May/June 2009 issue of Imbibe magazine, Hannah C. Feldman and Tracy Howard sketched the outlines of a three-stage master course in mixology. I was immediately intrigued.

For years, I've had some pretty decent basic bar knowledge. When I was about ten years old, my babysitter, Edie, taught me how to make a gin and tonic and ensured that I knew how to hold it steady while she drove. In the ensuing years, I've picked up a few more basic recipes. In college, I drank a lot of cocktails, and learned how to make a credible martini and a decent bloody mary. My white Russian is decent, my B-52 isn't an embarrassment, and I know my way around a "nuts and berries." Beyond that, if you hum a few bars, I can generally fake it.

Still, in the years since grad school, I've fallen into the trap of always drinking the same standards: scotch, absinthe, wine or beer. My skills have gotten a little rusty, and my knowledge is sorely lacking. Faced with Feldman and Howard's impressive list of "basic" cocktails, I could no longer hide from my equally impressive ignorance: it was clear that action was called for. Although I already had a drink guide -- the encyclopedic Ultimate A-To-Z Bar Guide by Sharon Tyler Herbst and Ron Herbst -- I decided to begin with the Rosita, the basic "101" cocktail that Imbibe suggested.

My first step was buying the ingredients: reposado tequila, sweet vermouth, dry vermouth, Campari, and Angostura bitters. I had never had reposado, and Sauza seemed like a good, reasonably-priced choice. For the vermouths, I went with Martini and Rossi, the most expensive choices that my local liquor store had to offer (they cost a buck more than the off-brand). As far as the rest, Campari is Campari is Campari and Angostura bitters, while a little hard to find in the Bronx, showed up in a Whole Foods in Manhattan.

All in all, the ingredients for my first drink ran about 80 bucks. Even by New York standards, this is a little high, but there's a lot to be said for giving my liquor collection a shot in the arm.

The Rosita was a mixed success, at best. Although complex, it had a bitter undertone that left me wary about drinking more. The lemon twist floating in the reddish-chestnut drink was, admittedly, gorgeous, the overall flavor was kind of unpleasant and stale-tasting. My wife, Virginia, completely hated it.

On the bright side, my liquor cabinet was now well-stocked with tequila, Campari, and two types of vermouth. Prepared for more adventures, I recorded my thoughts on the Rosita and looked forward to the next day's drink.

Rosita
(from Imbibe)

1 1/2 ounce reposado tequila
1/2 ounce sweet vermouth
1/2 ounce dry vermouth
1/2 ounce Campari
1 dash Angostura bitters
Cracked and cubed ice
Tools: barspoon, three-piece shaker
Glass: Old Fashioned
Garnish: Lemon Twist

Stir ingredients in a shaker with ice cubes, strain into a glass filled with cracked ice cubes and garnish.