Addington

A word about vermouth:

I always thought that dry vermouth came from white grapes, while sweet vermouth came from red. It turns out, however, that the rich auburn color of sweet vermouth actually comes from caramel. This is reflected in the brownish tinge that it often gets when mixed with lighter ingredients, and in its slightly creamy sugary flavor. It is sometimes called "Italian" vermouth, to differentiate it from "French," or dry vermouth.

Both dry and sweet vermouth are fortified with brandy and flavored with a wide variety of herbs, spices, and flowers. In the beginning, one of these herbs was wormwood, the active ingredient in absinthe. "Vermouth," in fact, is a French derivation of "Vermut," the German word for wormwood. In addition to its name, wormwood also gave vermouth a reputation as an aphrodesiac, a link that continues forth to today's martinis.

Supposedly, vermouth no longer contains wormwood; however, given the secrecy of its ingredients, it's hard to tell what, exactly, goes into the mix. Taken straight, it tends to have a slightly funky, vegetal flavor that isn't really all that pleasant. However, mixed into other drinks, it often blooms, offering a complexity that can be pretty delightful.

For some reason -- I'm not sure why -- drinks that contain equal parts sweet and dry vermouth are often referred to as "perfect." For example, a perfect martini contains sweet vermouth, dry vermouth, and gin. Today's drink, the Addington, could also be classed as a perfect cocktail.

In truth, however, the "perfect" title may be a mite extravagant. After the ice melted and the orange twist melded, this turned into a good drink; initially, though, the vermouth flavor was strong and way too funky. It might be nice with a splash of fresh orange juice, but that is probably another drink altogether...

Addington
(from The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide

1 1/2 ounces sweet vermouth
1 1/2 ounces dry vermouth
cold club soda
orange or lemon twist

Pour vermouths into chilled highball glass filled with ice cubes. Top with club soda, stirring lightly. Drop in orange or lemon twist.

Tom Collins

In 1874, The Great Tom Collins Hoax spread through New York, Pennsylvania, and various other areas in the eastern United States. Basically, a guy would walk up to a mark and ask if he'd seen Tom Collins. The mark, of course, would say no, after which the jokester would tell him that Collins was saying all sorts of nasty things about him. Eventually, the mark would lose his temper. Newspapers got into the fun, reporting appearances of the elusive Collins in various cities.

The Gettysburg Compiler wrote this transcript of the basic Tom Collins patter:

"Have you seen Tom Collins?"

"If you haven't, perhaps you had better do so, and as quick as you can, for he is talking about you in a very rough manner--calling you hard names and altogether saying things about you that are rather calculated to induce people to believe there is nothing you wouldn't steal short of a red hot stove. Other little things of that nature he is openly speaking in public places, and as a friend [...] we think you ought to take some notice of them and of Mr. Collins."

There are a few lessons here:
1. The world used to be a much smaller place.
2. Practical jokes are a lot different in places that don't have firearms.
3. Old-time jokes didn't always have punchlines.
4. Once upon a time, people did, indeed, talk like those "high pants talking fast" guys on The Family Guy. Horseradish!

At any rate, the development of the Tom Collins in 1876 was undoubtedly related to the Tom Collins hoax. Created by Jerry Thomas, "the father of American mixology," the original recipe was as follows:

Tom Collins

(use small bar glass)
Take 5 or 6 dashes of gum syrup
Juice of a small lemon
One large wine-glass of Gin
2 or 3 lumps of ice;

Shake up well and strain into a large bar-glass. Fill up the glass with plain soda-water and imbibe while it is lively.

Again, a few lessons, largely about the amount of alcohol that people used to consume in the 1870's. Jesus.

At any rate, my (much smaller) Tom Collins was very refreshing and very tart. I'm used to a little more sweetness, and might add a mite more sugar in the future, but it made a nice, lemony summer drink. This has nudged the Gin Rickey aside as my favorite drink thus far.

Tom Collins
(from The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide

2 ounces gin
1 ounce fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon powdered sugar
cold club soda
lemon slice
maraschino cherry

Combine first three ingredients in chilled Tom Collins glass; stir well. Add 3 to 4 ice cubes and top with club soda, stirring gently. Garnish with lemon slice and maraschino cherry.

Negroni

The Negroni is the last Campari drink that I currently have the makings for, and may well be the best-tasting one thus far. If I ever had to drink Campari -- I mean, if I was given a choice between being sodomized by a blue whale and drinking Campari -- this is the drink that I would choose. Campari still tastes like ass, but the Negroni makes it almost palatable.

The Negroni also has a pretty cool pedigree. It is allegedly named after General Pascal Olivier Count de Negroni, a French army officer and nobleman who fought in the Franco-Prussian war, was personally decorated by Emperor Louis Napoleon, and was commander of the Legion of Honor. Along the way, he also created this drink.

Other reports state that it was named after Camillo Negroni, a Florentine who always ordered the drink. The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide halves the difference between the stories, claiming that Count Camillo Negroni asked a Florentine bartender to add gin to his Americano.

Call me a snob, but I like the General Negroni story better. There's something about the Louis Napoleon twist that makes the story way cooler.

Either way, this is yet another drink that calls for a lemon twist. In my search for the proper way to make a lemon twist, I found all sorts of complicated methods involving toothpicks, freezers, and hours of preparation. Ultimately, I decided to go with slicing a lemon, cutting off the peel with a paring knife, and giving it a firm twist. It ended up releasing a little bit of the essential oils and making a wonderful garnish.

Negroni
(from The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide)

3/4 ounce gin
3/4 ounce Campari
3/4 ounce sweet or dry vermouth
cold club soda, optional
lemon twist

Stir liquid ingredients with ice; strain into chilled cocktail glass; add splash of soda, if desired. Or combine liquid ingredients in an old-fashioned glass filled with ice cubes; add a splash of soda, if desired. Garnish either style with lemon twist.

Americano

Campari is a bitter, bright red aperitif that was created in the 1860's by Gaspare Campari, an Italian bartender. James Bond has been known to drink Campari, and it shows up in Fellini films, Duras novels, and Primus songs. It is Steve Zissou's favorite drink and one of the only English words that Bang Bang speaks in The Brothers Bloom; this seems to suggest that Wes Anderson is a big fan of the stuff, although I'd prefer to believe that he just makes use of it for its pop culture flair.

There is no doubt that Campari is pretty cool right now. Lady Gaga featured it in one of her videos, as did Christina Aguilera. The Pogues namechecked it, Rihanna's backup singers drink it, and Jessica Biel is the company's 2009 Calendar girl. It also has a supremely cool website.

Pedigree, bright color, reasonable price, and cool literary currency: in many ways, Campari seems to have it all. Given that, I tried to like the stuff. Unfortunately, for all my efforts, I kept bumping my head against two basic truths:

1. Campari tastes like a smoker's mouth the morning after a major bender, with a slight hint of novocaine.

2. It is truly one of the foulest flavors imaginable. I totally hate it.

Even so, I drank all of my Americano, and will undoubtedly work my way through the rest of the Campari recipes in my various bartenders guides. I will try very, very hard to like the stuff.

The Americano was first made in Gaspare Campari's bar, not long after the aperitif was developed. Its original name, the Milano-Torino, celebrated the fact that the two main ingredients came from Italian towns. Milano supplied the Campari and Torino supplied the sweet vermouth. Later, when it became clear that American tourists were drawn to the drink, the cafe renamed it in honor of its new benefactors.

It is a decent drink as far as Campari drinks go, which means that it is absolutely beautiful to look at. It tastes better than a tequila ghost, but not quite as good as the sweaty asscrack of a Russian cab driver.

Americano
(from The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide)

1 1/2 ounces sweet vermouth
1 1/2 ounces Campari
Cold club soda
lemon or orange slice

Pour vermouth and Campari into chilled highball glass filled with ice cubes; add club soda, stirring gently. Garnish with lemon or orange slice.

Gin Rickey

The "Gin Rickey" sounds like a classic cocktail, the kind of thing that a man in a white suit might sidle up to third world bar in a former English colony and order from a snappy, immaculate bartender. Although it lacks the tonic -- and thus, the quinine -- of the gin and tonic, one can easily imagine the well-dressed stranger favoring rickeys for their "healthful" effects.

The stories about the rickey's origins are murky; according to Wikipedia, it gets its name from Colonel Rickey, an English officer who was once based in Washington, DC. The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide, on the other hand, says that the legendary Rickey was named Joe, and was a congressional lobbyist. Either way, it seems that the drink was invented in Washington DC, probably in Shoemaker's restaurant.

Of all the drinks I've made thus far, this one is my favorite. I made it with Rogue gin, which is pretty wonderful. The total lack of sweetness makes it a real drinker's cocktail. There isn't really much hiding the hard hit of booze, and the rough lime is brutally refreshing. If I find myself drinking a lot of Gin Rickeys, I'm probably going to drag my ass to AA.

Incidentally, it's also known as a "Billy Taylor."

Gin Rickey
(from The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide)

2 ounces gin
1/2 ounce fresh lime juice
cold club soda
lime wedge

Pour gin and lime juice into chilled highball glass over ice cubes. Top with club soda, stirring gently. Garnish with lime wedge.