Reasons to Try a Margarita Without Orange Liqueur

1. Margaritas should be simple. A good margarita is a very simple cocktail. It should balance carefully between sweet and tart, with the tequila the dominant flavor. Cointreau and other orange liqueurs don't contribute much to this balance, in my opinion; they just muddy it up and cover the tequila. Which is fine if you are using a mediocre tequila, but if you're not...

1. It's all about the tequila, so don't cover it up. A good margarita starts with a good tequila. I prefer blanco, or silver, tequila in my margarita, and I balance the drink so the tequila comes through. It's not just alcohol; Casa Noble, my favorite tequila, has notes of green mango, pepper, and papaya. Delicious, and I want to taste it all.

1. Cointreau is expensive, so skip it! Many orange liqueurs, like Cointreau and Grand Marnier, are expensive. If you're making a big batch of margaritas, a side benefit of leaving the orange liqueur out is cost savings.

1. Limes are pricey too; let them shine! Limes, however, are non-negotiable in a margarita, and since they are way too expensive right now, why dilute or muddy them with an extra liqueur? Let them be the star!

1. It's just so good. The final reason for leaving the orange out of your tequila is that a pure margarita is just so good. This is subjective, I know — but drinking a pure margarita really changed my mind about both tequila and margaritas.

https://www.thekitchn.com/5-reasons-to-leave-orange-out-of-your-margarita-203186

The French 75

Peter Marshall: A friend offers to give you a French 75. What is that?
Paul Lynde : Just a minute, that's 25 more than it was last time.

It's awards season again with the Golden Globes almost upon us. This year promises to be a doozy as far as political grandstanding. The Grammys will probably draw the most Trump-ire. In order to judge and umpire the speech-making, here's a suggestion: Get thee ye to a liquor store before Sunday and pick up the ingredients for the best awards-watching drink of all, the French 75:

The drink is merely a souped-up glass of bubbly. There are many variants. The version we use is:

1/2 oz Cointreau (or triple sec if you're on a budget)
1/2 oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
1 oz of gin (or cognac)
Champagne to top

Mix and add to a champagne or wine glass. Top with champagne, prosecco, or any white sparkling wine. Briefly stir. Enjoy.

The drink's history dates back to the Lafayette Escadrille in WW I. The drink was named after the famous French 75mm artillery piece:

My Huckleberry Ginn

We're after the same rainbow's end, 

Waitin' round the bend, 

My huckleberry friend, Moon River, and me

linky

Let that song play through as you read...

...I'm perfecting a new cocktail I named for the lowly huckleberry. Huckleberries are indigenous to the Pacific Northwest. I first tasted them in a sauce at Chez Pannise about 20 years ago. Unique flavor.

The closest cocktail prior art is a recipe for a Huckleberry Hound. The Huckleberry Hound calls for generous quantities of huckleberry syrup, limeade, and vodka. BTW, those are the three basic things for a good cocktail: Sweet, sour, and booze. I have so many recipes for drinks based around this or that liqueur plus citrus and of course vodka or gin.

But I wanted to make a proper cocktail...something Audrey Hepburn would drink...a little piece of the hinterland in the smart set's glass. Sure, there's always 44^o North, but I like a challenge.

So I got my hands on some good quality huckleberry syrup:

The stuff is available through Amazon (please use Lem's portal). Torani also makes a huckleberry syrup which I tried.

The first attempt recipe was:

1 part huckleberry syrup
1 part freshly squeezed lime juice
4 parts Finlandia vodka*

Mix with ice in a shaker and shake shake shake. Pour into a favorite chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with lime twist: Viola:

What a gorgeous color!

Now, my designated taster said, "Why not try gin instead of vodka?" to which I replied "Huckleberry Gin!"
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*Any vodka will do but I chose Finlandia because Finlandia/Finn -- get it?

Faking Bad Update: The Vesper

Chip's improved photo (see comments)

The Vesper*

'A dry martini,' [Bond] said. 'One. In a deep champagne goblet.' 

'Oui, monsieur.' 

'Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?' 

'Certainly, monsieur.' The barman seemed pleased with the idea. 

'Gosh, that's certainly a drink' said Leiter. 

Bond laughed. 'When I'm...er...concentrating,' he explained, 'I never have more than one drink before dinner. But I do like that one to be large and very strong and very cold and very well-made. I hate small portions of anything, particularly when they taste bad. This drink's my own invention. I'm going to patent it when I can think of a good name.' 

—Ian Fleming, Casino Royale (1953)

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*This one's destined for a retail display

They Found My Favorite Cocktail Lounge

They are Esquire Magazine, and they named my favorite cocktail lounge as number one on their list of the top ten bars in America.

This is good for the owner of the lounge, but bad for the customers. I'm selfish, so it's bad for me, too.  Notoriety brings too much attention; too many curiosity seekers; too damn many college kids who don't know how to behave in a cocktail lounge with grown-ups around.

Bryant's Cocktail Lounge is in an old, quiet residential neighborhood in a working class part of the city.  My wife and I began stopping there for cocktails when we were in our twenties, long before we met.  It's dark inside, velour on the walls, a cozy bar,  and nooks with tables and chairs.  There is no jukebox.  The owner plays standards over a McIntosh music system that has knobs and red lights and VU meters.  There are no signs, neon or otherwise, and no television sets.  There is no food, no bar snacks, no sandwiches.  Just cocktails, period.

There are no beer tappers, a very odd thing for a joint in Milwaukee.  Order a beer and a bartender or waitress will politely remind you that Bryant's is a cocktail lounge.  There are no drink menus.  The bar has a rolodex with recipes for more than 400 cocktails.  If you don't know what you want, they'll pick out something for you.

Now Esquire "discovered" Bryant's and made this video about the place.



We stopped for cocktails last night about 10:30.  The manager warmly welcomed as usual, and two places at the bar opened in a few minutes. We had a couple of cocktails, then a couple more. And enjoyed precious time for a happy, long talk about whatever was on our minds; in a dark, quiet bar, Sinatra, Bennett, Holiday, Mercer, Dorsey and so many others quietly playing and singing in the background.

Things were normal, a comfort to those who love this place.  The Esquire video hasn't resulted in the place being mobbed.  Things are good.

If you are in town, stop at Bryant's on a Tuesday night around 6:00 PM.   I'll be sitting at the bar, enjoying a cocktail.  If you see me, you can buy me a drink.  I'm friendly like that.  If you don't see me, just leave a ten dollar bill with my name on it.  John the bartender will know what to do.

Devils On Horseback

Detail of medieval stained glass from Sainte-Chapelle de Paris,
now at the Musée National du Moyen Âge, Paris

No, no, not that kind of Devil on horseback! These:

... wonderful little savory-salty-sweet-smoky hors d'oeuvres that go great with cocktails, as party tidbits or as appetizers. They're often only prunes (or dates) wrapped in bacon, but I got the idea (from Jennifer Paterson) to stuff in a bit of chicken liver which I think makes them more interesting. I've no idea why they're called Devils on Horseback— there's another, similar dish called Angels on Horseback, which is an oyster wrapped in bacon, skewered and cooked. If you wish to be gastronomically and religiously ecumenical, you could serve both culinary equestrians, Godly and Satanic, together.

Devils On Horseback

Ingredients:

• chicken livers
• about 2 tablespoons butter
• Cayenne pepper
• salt
• medium-size pitted prunes
• about 2 cups Sercial or Rainwater Madeira, Tawny Port, or brewed black tea
• good-quality sliced smoked bacon
• toothpicks or small wooden or bamboo skewers
• A baking tray, lined with aluminum foil for convenience

Soak the prunes in the Madeira, Port or tea for at least an hour, or up to 24 hours, then drain and dry the prunes slightly with paper towels. If you've used Madeira or Port, don't throw it away after the soak— drink it! The pruny nuance is delicious.

About 30 minutes before you plan to cook the Devils, put the toothpicks or skewers in a little bowl of water to soak; this helps prevent them burning in the oven.

Preheat oven to 450º F.

Trim the chicken livers, removing any membrane that's still attached, then dry them with paper towels. Melt the butter in a sauté pan over medium high heat. Gently sauté the livers on both sides for a few minutes. Do not overcook. The livers should be firmed but still quite pink inside; overcooked livers are crumbly, dry and terrible to eat. Remove the cooked livers to a cutting board and slice them into pieces that will fit inside a prune. Sprinkle the liver pieces with the Cayenne pepper and a little salt.

Take a soaked prune and stuff it with a piece of liver. Flatten out a piece of bacon and cut it in half, then roll one of the halves firmly 'round the stuffed prune. Pierce the whole thing with one of the soaked toothpicks, then place it on the baking tray. Repeat this process until all the prunes are stuffed, wrapped and pierced and placed on the tray, about 1.5 inches apart.

Put the baking tray into the preheated oven and cook for about 7-9 minutes, then carefully flip each Devil over using tongs. Place the tray back into the oven for about another 7-9 minutes, until the bacon is cooked, crisped and a bit browned.

Serve hot.

The Harpoon*

The Harpoon has become a favorite cocktail around our house. Of course we modified it, substituting gin for vodka:

(double this for two)

1½ oz gin
½ oz orange liqueur
¼ oz lime juice
enough cranberry juice to color

Mix and shake over ice.  Pour into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a slice of lime.
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*Originally blogged by EBL, here.

The Harpoon is related to the Maggie, but less limey. Also, the Maggie looks different, lacking the socialist red hue.

The alcoholic's diaries continued: The Margarita.

This is a drink I take pretty seriously.  It's a very simple drink, but there's a potential for variation in the results, and I've been working on refining this for a very long time.

It's rumored that some use sour mix, and call the sugary slurry that spills from their shaker a Margarita.  Such a man is the son of a thousand fathers, all of them bastards like him.  You'll need:

A competent assistant is key.

2.5 parts lime juice (about 2 limes per drink)

2 parts Patron Silver tequila (about 2 shots per drink)

0.75 parts Grand Marnier

1.5 parts simple syrup

sea salt

ice (cubed and crushed)

shaker, juicer, Margarita glass

Step into my seedy cantina, after the jump: