Alexander's Sister Cocktail

There was a time when I was deeply addicted to creamy cocktails. From White Russians to Nuts and Berries, B-52s to Brandy Alexanders, I drank them all; depending on how many I put down, I occasionally licked the glass. Basically, as long as a drink had the flavor and texture of melted ice cream spiked with Everclear, I was happy.

Not quite a girl-drink drunk, but close enough.

The inimitable Julie introduced me to my first grown-up creamy drink. A bar-poured B-52 can be truly beautiful: lovingly-balanced layers of Kahlua, Bailey's Irish Cream, and Grand Marnier line up in a glass, suggesting a smoggy sunset or perhaps the sienna-toned frames of cinematic memory. The color palette is pure Indiana Jones, and the flavor is a rich mix of rich and sweet. Yes indeed, a well-executed B-52 is a work of art.

Admittedly, most of our freshman year B-52s were a lot sloppier; in fact, I remember a couple of nights in which we basically put down glass after glass of a khaki-colored ooze that we surreptitiously poured from a convenient plastic flip-top container. While not quite as aesthetically pleasing as a properly executed B-52, they were easier to hide from the cops, should the need arise.

Maybe I'll learn to make a perfect B-52. Now THAT would be a useful skill.

While the B-52 occupies a special place in my heart, I chalk up my creamy drink love to bad childhood influences. When I was a rugrat, my father often took us out to eat at various military bases, where I soon learned a vital lesson: for all their culinary shortcomings, most Officers' clubs are able to put together a first-rate mint parfait. The layers of vanilla ice cream, interspersed with thick lashings of creme de menthe, were a delicious introduction to the world of booze.

The Alexander's Sister cocktail brings to mind the best aspects of those childhood parfaits. The relatively small amount of light cream translates into a drink that isn't quite as heavy as most creamy cocktails. It also isn't too complex, either. Basically, this is a nice ice-creamy concoction that is lightly minty, a bit more grown up, and extremely refreshing.

As a side note, the little sprinkle of nutmeg on top was nice, but could be easily substituted for chocolate shavings, a sprig of mint, or even a maraschino cherry.

Alexander's Sister Cocktail
(from Mr. Boston Official Bartender Guide

1 ounce dry gin
1 ounce creme de menthe (green)
1 ounce light cream

Shake with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with fresh-grated nutmeg on top

Artillery Cocktail

After I blew a chunk of change on the ingredients for the Rosita, I realized that my goal of making a new cocktail every night could conceivably get me into a lot of trouble. My solution was to take stock of all the booze in my liquor cabinet, find all the drinks that I could make, and work my way through them before buying more hooch. As I finished bottles, I would replace them, and as I ran out of available drinks, I would add to my selection. Over all, it seemed to me that this was the only way to avoid going broke on this venture.

Apart from the vermouth, Campari, and tequila that I picked up during my Rosita buying spree, I had the following (all in fifths):
1/4 bottle of Rogue Gin
3/4 bottle of New Amsterdam Gin
1 bottle of Llord's creme de menthe
1 bottle of Hiram Walker creme de cacao
3/4 bottle of Lucid Absinthe
1/3 bottle of ouzo
1 bottle Cynar
1 bottle Aperol
1 bottle Harvey's Bristol Cream
1 bottle each homemade honey, lime, and blueberry liqueurs
1 bottle Santa Clara rompope
1 small flask Zubrowka Polish grass vodka

It was an odd list, and I had gathered it in my normal, disorganized way. The flask of Polish grass vodka was an engagement gift from my wife, and I've regularly refilled it over the years. The Bristol Cream, creme de menthe, and creme de cacao were all part of various recipes, and the rompope was an impulse buy, based on the fact that I like egg-based liqueurs. I made the honey, blueberry and lime liqueurs last year, when I was able to get grain alcohol from Connecticut. The Cynar and Aperol both came from one frenzied visit to the liquor store, when I felt the need to find the weirdest booze in the joint. The Rogue gin -- which is really good, by the way -- came courtesy of a Rogue representative who wanted me to review it for a blog, and the New Amsterdam was purchased after a taste testing at the same local liquor store.

At any rate, my bar was -- as I might expect -- well stocked with the bizarre, while decidedly lacking in the mundane necessities (like rum, vodka, whiskey...). Luckily, The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide was chock full of gin recipes, which meant that I would be able to go a while before I had to buy anything else.

The artillery cocktail is simplicity itself. Kissing cousin to the martini, it is two parts gin and one part sweet vermouth, shaken and strained. It is a beautiful taupe color and looks particularly sophisticated in a cocktail glass. In terms of taste, it is slightly fruity and slightly sweet with a gin kick that let's you know that you aren't screwing around. All in all, a nice drink.

Oddly enough, there are a bunch of gin and sweet vermouth cocktails. With a cherry garnish, it is called a "Gypsy cocktail" or a "club cocktail." With an orange slice, it's called a "Homestead."

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

2 ounces gin
1 ounce sweet vermouth

Shake ingredients with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass.