Bronx Terrace

Since I'm running so far behind, I think I'm going to just do some fast posts for a while. I've been keeping up on my drinking -- boy, it sounds strange to say that -- but I've let the writing lapse a bit. At any rate, here goes a shot at catching up.

Of course, the name "Bronx Terrace" caught my attention. There's something about the old-fashioned, almost fussy "Terrace" attached to my good old Bronx. The blend of courtly and coarse just sounded perfect.

The drink itself was oddly refreshing, with a taste that landed somewhere between a gin rickey and a martini. It was slightly sweetened by the dry vermouth, with a somewhat delicate flavor that I really liked. I drank it on my fire escape -- a real Bronx Terrace.

Bronx Terrace
from Mr. Boston's Official Bartender Guide

1 1/2 ounces gin
1 1/2 ounces dry vermouth
1/2 ounce lime juice

Shake with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Add a maraschino cherry.

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.

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.

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.

Farmer's Cocktail

Although my tattered copy of Herbst and Herbst's The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide has served me well for years, I decided that it was time to resort to one of the classics. The Mr. Boston Official Bartender's Guide is a classic, and most decent bars carry a copy of the thing. I was able to get a copy on half.com for a couple of bucks (actually, the shipping was more expensive than the book), and will hopefully get it in a couple of days.

As far as today's drink was concerned, I couldn't find anything on the history or lore of the Farmer's cocktail; for that matter, even the "Kup's Indispensable Cocktail," its best known alias, yielded nothing. I'm sure there's something out there on this sucker, and I'd be deeply appreciative if anyone could send me some info.

At any rate, this is another super-simple cocktail. Basically gin, sweet vermouth, dry vermouth, and bitters, it has a beautiful caramel color and a slightly creamy taste. Overall, it's a really tasty, easy-to-mix drink.

If you want to go the "Kup's Indispensable" route, drop the vermouths by a third, halve the bitters, shake instead of stir, and garnish it with an orange slice.

Farmer's Cocktail
(from The Ultimate A-to-Z Bar Guide)

1 1/2 ounces gin
3/4 ounce dry vermouth
3/4 ounce sweet vermouth
2 dashes Angostura Bitters

Stir ingredients with ice; strain into chilled cocktail glass.

Bronx Cocktail

I live in the Bronx, so the fact that the Bronx cocktail was on Imbibe's list of beginner drinks seemed serendipitous. As I mixed it, I wondered what combination of circumstances went into the naming of this drink. What was it about gin, dry vermouth, sweet vermouth, and orange juice that screamed "the Bronx"?

Unlike the Rosita, the Bronx cocktail is rich in lore. One of its supposed inventors, Johnny Solon, claimed that some of his customers used to talk about the strange animals they saw at the Bronx Zoo; others, meanwhile, talked about the strange animals they saw after drinking cocktails. Solon, connecting the two, allegedly named this drink "The Bronx."

If true, that's a pretty lame story; after all, hallucinations and delirium tremens aren't limited to the Bronx cocktail! According to Solon, the drink came about on a dare: he was making duplexes and a customer dared him to come up with a new drink. On the spot, he modified a duplex and put together a Bronx.

My preferred story is that the drink was created (or at least stolen) by Joseph S. Sormani, a Bronx restauranteur, who either made it up himself or tried it in a Philadelphia bar. Either way, he offered it at his bar, put his borough's name on it, and the rest is history.

And, apparently, the Bronx is a historical drink. In 1934, it was ranked number 3 in the list of the world's ten most famous cocktails. Number one was the martini, number two the Manhattan.

Always a step behind Manhattan. Sigh.

At any rate, the Bronx cocktail inspired a comic and was, allegedly, the drink that led "Bill W" on his road to rack and ruin. Nick Charles said that it must always be shaken to "two step time." While romantic, this is total claptrap.

As a fan of all things Bronx, I really wanted to like this one. On the bright side, it was sweet and the little bit of OJ gave it a nice taste to offset the gin. Unfortunately, there's a lot of gin, and the heavy ginny flavor and cloying taste of the vermouths yield a cloying taste that wasn't all that great. Better than the Rosita, at least. Virginia hated it.

The Bronx Cocktail
(from The Ultimate A-To-Z Bar Guide)

1 1/2 ounces gin
3/4 ounce fresh orange juice
1/2 ounce dry vermouth
1/2 ounce sweet vermouth
orange slice

Shake liquid ingredients with ice; strain into chilled cocktail glass or serve over ice in an old-fashioned glass Garnish with orange slice.

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.