7s and 8s: Four bridge rums for mixing or sipping.

Rum and sunshine, there’s enough for everyone.

7s and 8s: Four bridge rums for mixing or sipping.

I mostly sort rums into one of three categories: Mixing, sipping and garbage. The latter are the heavily sugar and gawd-knows-what-filth dosed spirits that are pushed upon the teeming ignorant masses to erode the good name of Rum, the greatest of all spirits. The most egregious of those are no longer allowed to call themselves rum in the EU which is at least a good start so if the words rum, rhum or ron appear naught on the label leave them on the shelf to poison the souls of the less diligent. Breathe Andy, breathe. The other two categories (mixing and sipping) are pretty self-explanatory but there exists a sub-category between the two that I wish to discuss today that I call “bridge rums”. These aged rums are more expensive than typical mixing rums and are edging into “sippable” territory while remaining fairly affordable. More complex than the simple mixing rums they find a welcome place in cocktails where the rum is not overpowered by other flavours and remains the star of the show. A Daiquiri, a Rum Old Fashioned, a Mai Tai. You get the drift. These rums are usually aged for 7-8 tropical years (ageing being somewhat accelerated in a warm climate) and sit mid-range with a lesser aged mixing offering and a more aged – and expensive! – sipper or two typically available from the same distiller. Today I’m going to wheel out four examples that I value but this list is far from exhaustive and similarly placed rums from other distillers may serve you well. However, do make certain that the 7 or 8 is followed by the word years (or años) and is not just some number that an unscrupulous marketeer has simply plucked from the ether and slapped on the label. Yes, it happens. A last comment before we dive in is that in my opinion the best rums come from islands (or multi-island nations) that don’t begin with a P and I generally avoid rums that come from a mainland country unless it begins with a G. So there. I’ve picked a range of 7s and 8s that should be widely enough available that wherever you live you should be able to get your hands on at least one of them. Given that prices of these rums vary quite considerably in different markets the relative value to you will depend on what you need to fork out for them but I’ve included the price I paid for each 700ml bottle to give you a baseline. Anyway, let’s try a few rums!

El Dorado 8 (€21-26)

Coming from the South American mainland nation of Guyana (heh), El Dorado 8 is a rum I’ve written about on these pages a few times but it fits into this group so well that I couldn’t exclude it. A lot of folks reach for El Dorado 12 and when I did many years ago I found it far too sweet. El Dorado have cleaned up their act in recent times and that extra sugar is no longer present but I found the drier 8 year old (which also uses a different blend of rums from the distiller’s interesting collection of historic stills) much more approachable and it has been a staple “bridge rum” ever since. It has that typical Demerara rum quality that is often described as “smoky” which I think is perhaps a little misleading and might better be called “earthily spicy”. While I almost always use ED8 as a mixing rum I am never disappointed on the occasions I drop some in a glass all on its own. Although the bottle, screw cap closure and 40% abv look pretty pedestrian you get a lot of age and still pedigree from a remarkably affordable rum to the point I can’t think of another that can touch it for the price. Yet it remains a Demerara rum which is a specific style that limits its overall flexibility. It lends itself pretty well to a rum old fashioned and as a component of various multi-rum tiki cocktails where it brings that Demerara depth and some age to the mix. El Dorado 8 is a no-brainer if available to you at this kind of price.

Appleton Estate 8 (€28-33)

Jamiaca’s Appleton Estate make some cracking rums including the entry level Signature and the highly regarded 12 year old under the eye of master distiller Joy Spence. Some years ago I would happily mix away with the 12 year old but of late the price has started to rise quite dramatically to the point I’m not dropping 45+ rum tokens on a mixer. However, there is a somewhat overlooked aged Appleton that really kicks ass and some even prefer to its more expensive sibling. Appleton Estate 8 is a beautifully crafted pot still rum that is deeply, deeply enjoyable for sipping on yet, if the price is right (and it does vary quite a bit) is equally good in cocktails. Typically for an aged Jamaican rum, the funky edge is barely detectable but the wood and spice of a well aged rum transfers effortlessly into a Mai Tai or rum Old Fashioned. When sipping there is a slightly creamy vanilla note that might get lost in a cocktail but that’s fine as this is the rum I’m mostly likely to drink on it’s own out of this group. While the most expensive on my list it exudes far more class than the others with an attractive bottle and label with an excellent wooden cork and higher bottling abv of 43%. The slight extra price is well spent and purely in terms of favour sophistication this is the leader of this pack by a good margin. In a Mai Tai I find three parts of Appleton 8 topped out with one part of Rum Fire or Wray & Nephew overproof tough to beat – and hopefully somewhat in the spirit of Trader V’s original recipe.

Angostura 7 (€23-27)

For those of you who thought Trinidad’s Angostura only made bitters: Surprise! They also pump out a line of rums. From what I’ve tasted so far these are unremarkable but solid rums that are likely not my first choice at each price point. So why are we here? Well Angostura 7 has a peculiar property that makes it very interesting. On its own this coppery, “rummy” rum, with bittersweet orangey notes is just “fine” but unexciting. But for some strange reason it mixes really well and I’ll be damned if I can explain why. I just notice that every time I include it in a cocktail I mentally say to myself, “damn, that was a good one!” Could it be that its very mid-Caribbean ordinariness makes it very flexible? In that sense it takes our concept of a “base” rum and works very much as a well aged version of the same. I’ve not found too much information on how Angostura 7 is made and aged but suffice to say that whenever I see Ango 7 at the lower end of this price range I’ll pick one or two up and use it purely for how well it plays in a Mai Tai or Anejo Daiquiri.

Havana Club 7 (€22-25)

Good ‘ole HC7 finds a place on this list because – unless you live in the USA of course – this is the most easily available example of a bridge rum and most of you should have no problem finding a bottle. Americans can get it at almost any non-US airport when they travel and really need not worry about having it confiscated on their return as I’ve never heard of that happening. Being a Cuban rum we know it is from a column still and has no sugar added, ‘cos them’s the rules there. Sure, it’s not the most exciting rum ever but its leather and tobacco notes are pleasant enough to make it an enjoyable sipper and somewhat like the Angostura it is very flexible and works well in a very wide range of rum cocktails. On its own I find it just a little “thin”, likely due to the lack of pot-still content but in cocktails that matters less as juices and syrups will make up for it in body. It’s not the first bottle I reach for yet I’m never without one and when I do include it in a cocktail I’m rarely disappointed. Try it a Hotel Nacional Special or Old Cuban and see what I’m talking about.

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Port Ellen + Mandarins

To Ellen Bach.

 

Port Ellen + Mandarins.

O noble Mandarin, ancestor of all citrus (along with the citron and pomelo but who remembers those losers?), majestic in thy sweet oranginess yet all too rarely utilised in the preparation of cocktaily splendour how shalt we honour you? I too was complicit in the under-use of this commonplace fruit until a recent visit to a favourite cocktail bar (no, I’m not telling you because it’s hard enough to get a table in this tiny place as it is) where there was a drink of some mandariny content that got me to thinking. Why do we ignore this fruit that is so tasty, widely available and affordable? And which fits so handily in a standard citrus squeezer? Damned if I know but let’s have a crack at rectifying the situation. Given the paucity of mandarin and even orange juice based cocktails where do we look for inspiration? The Blood and Sand springs to mind yet that is not a cocktail that receives much love. Regardless of that I think whisky is the way to go and a smoky Islay (pronounced eye-lah not eye-lay) malt seems to complement the sweetness of the mandarin juice so we’re off to a good start. When it comes to mixing with Islay malt I think we should tread carefully and not waste a fine and expensive whisky on a mixed drink where its nuances will most likely be lost. In these cases I always reach for an affordable and slightly mysterious bottling. Finlaggan Original Peated is certainly an Islay malt whisky but which of the small island’s clutch of distilleries produce it is a well kept secret. It is an uncomplicated affair with bags of peat smoke flavour but little complexity and likely only the minimum of ageing (three years) but that is exactly what we need in a case like this. There are other options such as Ileach or the lesser aged offerings of the “big” Islay distilleries. Going for a bit of depth I split this base with a little ruby port which bungs some tannins into the mix. We are already nicely balanced for sweetness but lacking in modifier and accent so lemon juice and grenadine in equal proportions followed by a couple of dashes of Fee’s black walnut bitters tick those classic cocktail anatomy boxes with the bitters replacing some of the woodiness our relatively young base lacked. The name refers to the place one steps off the ferry to Islay as well as the fortified wine component. I’m pleased with the result and think it pays a respectable homage to the unlikely but undeniable King of Citrus without whom no lemon, lime, orange or grapefruit would exist.


Port Ellen.

1.5oz / 45ml peated Islay malt whisky (such as Finlaggan).

0.5oz / 15ml ruby Port (I like Kopke).

1oz / 30ml fresh mandarin (or tangerine*) juice.

0.5oz / 15ml fresh lemon juice.

0.5oz / 15ml grenadine (homemade or good quality).

2 dashes Fee’s black walnut bitters (use a single dash aromatic bitters if you lack it).

Shake with ice and stain into a chilled champagne coupe. I didn’t garnish it because mandarin peel is a bit flabby but you can do so if you like.

Toast Citrus Reticulata.


* Tangerines are either just the same species as mandarins or as near as damn it that it doesn’t even matter – so use ’em instead if you like.

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Busted Flush.

Ah, crap.

Busted Flush.

I’m sometimes asked how I name my cocktails. Mostly I’ll look for a connection between  the main ingredients and see if anything suggests itself but when that fails I turn to The List. Huh? Well, whenever I hear something that sounds like it would make a good name for a cocktail* I add it to a file on my phone with perhaps a suggestion of which kind of base spirit it might be suited to. When I’m stuck for a name for a newly invented cocktail I run through The (by now rather extensive) List hoping to find a good match and usually that bears fruit – or at least triggers a related idea. I should point out that once settling on a name one should check it isn’t already an established cocktail. I say “established” because in my opinion if there is a single instance of some shitty unbalanced concoction that has clearly barely passed anyone but the creators own lips they don’t get the right to hog a good name. Very occasionally I even use The List ass-backwards and create a drink around the name. Recently whilst perusing The List I came across a name I’d added a very long time ago on an evening when I was donating most of my meagre earnings to my “friends” in a game of poker. Busted Flush (4 red ingredients and 1 black) said the entry. Game on! To be fair this really isn’t usually the best way to create a cocktail but sometimes giving yourself some limiting factors actually helps with the creativity, forcing you to explore combinations you might otherwise never consider. This time I believe it worked out pretty well. The black(ish) ingredient is my own blend of dark Jamaican rum but feel free to use an existing one – US Coruba dark, Hamilton, Myers’s, Worthy Park 109 and Blackwell’s all fit the bill. The red ones are pretty standard** and listed below. What results is a somewhat Negroniesque drink but more bittersweet than just bitter thanks to the Heering and with a nice rich and complex depth from the addition of the vermouth and bitters. Otherwise simply make – and enjoy – it in the same same way as a traditional Negroni.


Busted Flush.

1.5oz / 45ml Dark Jamaican rum (see text).

0.5oz / 15ml Cherry Heering.

0.5oz / 15ml Campari.

0.5oz / 15ml Punt e Mes (or another sweet vermouth).

3 dashes Peychaud’s bitters.

Stir with ice and strain into a double old fashioned glass containing a block or sphere of clear ice. No garnish required.

Toast Corky McCorquodale (2004 – 1968)  who brought Texas Hold ’em Poker to the world.


*Can be literally anything such as a song, a book, a turn of phrase, a mythological or historical character, an animal or plant. Anything.

**If you don’t have all of these in stock you’re really not taking this cocktail thing very seriously and need to have a quiet word with yourself.

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Pulu + Lonkero.

Lonkero to the left of me Pulu to the right, here I am.

Pulu + Lonkero.

A Finnish friend, knowing me to be of the cocktaily persuasion, once told me of a drink that was popular in her youth that was called a lonkero. Upon hearing that this “cocktail” came in a can I likely lost interest and forgot about the lonkero. Until she returned from a trip home toting a 6-pack of lonkeros (or perhaps lonkeri for all I know). It being a hot day and the proffered can being ice cold I partook of the Finnish alcopop and damn if it wasn’t pretty damn tastily refreshing. It might be a little harsh of me to call it an alcopop as it does contain proper gin mixed with what appears to be white grapefruit soda. Other flavours exist but I am reliably informed that the grapefruit version in the blue can is the original. OriGINal. See what they did there? The full name on the tin is Hartwall Original Longdrink but the Finns just call it lonkero which just means longdrink and it should be ordered as such as complicating the ordering process at a Finnish bar is a big no-no*. Predictably enough I decided to reverse engineer the lonkero in proofy fashion into a long drink we can enjoy without a trek to Helsinki. It is immediately apparent that the lonkero is at heart simply a pre-made gin Paloma and thus this is not a particularly troublesome exercise. White grapefruit juice, gin, sugar and sparkling water aside, the one tweak I used to balance it to my liking was a tiny amount of citric acid crystals (themselves a common ingredient in canned drinks) but if you lack those a teaspoon of lemon juice will serve the same purpose. Tehtävä valmis! All that remains is to name the drink. Since it is similar to the Paloma which is Spanish for dove I first thought to give it the same treatment in Suomi. According to Google translate that is Kyyhkynen. Yeah, no. Upon informing my tame Finn of the problem she suggested using the Finnish slang for pigeon. Happily Pulu doesn’t sound a million miles from Paloma either. So there we have it: A simple and refreshing gin drink for a summer afternoon. Kippis!


Pulu.

1.5oz / 45ml dry gin (Finnish if you have any!)

1.5oz / 45ml white grapefruit juice (bottled is fine here).

1oz / 30ml simple syrup (1:1).

1/8 tsp of citric acid or 1 tsp of lemon juice.

Shake with ice and pour unstrained into a Collins glass. Top up with soda water and stir gently.

Malja suomalaisille – kansalle, joka ottaa juomansa vakavasti.


*The Finns are not big on unnecessary chit-chat, especially in bars.

 

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Newbury + Mr Boston Bartender’s Guide

More than a feeling...

More than a feeling…

Newbury + Mr. Boston Bartender’s Guide.

Recently a good friend* lent me his 1941 Old Mr. Boston Bartender’s Guide an iconic tome that has been in print continuously since 1935. I got my first (2006) copy as a gift in the naughties and it wasn’t great; full of terrible recipes and gaudy illustrations but with a few almost correct classic recipes hidden between. With its continuous updates it is often said that Mr. Boston is something of a window into what the average American is imbibing at the time of publication. There might be something to that but I reckon any given printing is ten of more years behind the times with my 1941 copy looking decidedly late 20s – early 30s*** and my more modern copy being solidly grounded in The Dark Ages of the 1990s. I understand things have improved since and, while I can’t quite bring myself by buy another one, the website certainly looks more encouraging. What the ‘41 copy told me was that the guide was originally published to push the Old Mr. Boston brand of label engineered spirits which I hadn’t until now realised. This is seldom a good thing as it tends to skew recipes in the direction of the spirits being pushed but at least the ‘41 still seems fairly honest. In content, the ‘41 shows some progression over the likes of the Savoy cocktail book of 1930 in that it gives recipes largely in specific amounts rather than proportions yet there isn’t too much progression in the components of drinks themselves with most reliant on spirits, vermouth, curacao and eggs. Not yet into the modern era but slowly getting there.

Newbury.

While interesting enough my trawl through these prosaic pages was not yielding much to write about until I noticed the Newbury. What caught by interest is that the drink, being as it is a tweaked Gin and It, specifically called to be shaken with cracked ice with lemon peel in the shaker. So a regal style cocktail but 85 years ago. Score! Would it be any good? Let’s see. Made as written the Newbury was quite small with just an ounce each of vermouth and gin so I upped everything by an extra 50%. And it rocked. It’s quite amazing how much lemony bitterness that swathe (also extended proportionally) and an orange garnish adds to a simple sweetened Gin and It. The balance is bang-on although my use of the bittered Punt e Mes vermouth certainly helped. I busted open my Savoy*** to discover the Newbury already existed in 1930 – and also that the Savoy calls for the orange peel also to been shaken. Interesting. Regals are almost 100 years old! The Newbury is certainly not a well known cocktail but it does show up from time to time but with all of them losing the point by either only using the lemon as a garnish or using triple sec instead of curacao (one even uses blue curacao FFS). The Newbury has disappeared by the 2006 edition of Mr. Boston (the “Old” having being dropped at some point) but still appears on their website which also has a useful “time machine” function where we can see things going wrong in slow motion as between the 1957 and 1960 editions the Newbury cocktail goes from shaken to stirred. And this is how great cocktails die. And why old cocktail books are so important. So finally I present the Newbury cocktail restored to the way it was meant to be in its finest days:


Newbury (1941 version).

1.5oz / 45ml Dry gin.

1.5oz / 45ml Italian vermouth (I went Punt e Mes).

1.5 teaspoons of curacao – NOT blue 😉

Long swathe of thinly cut fresh lemon peel.

Shake hard with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a swathe of orange peel twisted or rubbed over the glass if you desire.

Toast Mr. Boston (1935-?) whoever he was!


*Thanks Anthony!

**Evidenced by and almost complete lack of early tiki drinks for example.

***It’s also clear that Mr Boston leans quite heavily on the Savoy for its recipes.

 

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After the Gold Rush.

To a new home in the sun.

 

After the Gold Rush.

The Gold Rush is a delicious and simple cocktail of just Bourbon, lemon juice and honey syrup that has long been a go-to cocktail for me when I’m feeling a little lazy but I’ve felt for some time that it could use a little more flavour complexity. It’s always a bit of a risk messing with a rock solid drink but I think my little modifications keep the spirit of the original while elevating it enough to be worthwhile of a new name. Inspiration was delivered unto me by a couple of other classic whisky cocktails, the New York Sour and the Penicillin. The New York Sour shows us that a whisky sour can benefit from an injection of some more tannic notes, in its own case a red wine float, but in the After the Gold Rush I went for the wonderful Italian amaro that calls itself Cynar and floated it naught but threw it right in the shaker with the other ingredients. It was a welcome bonus that the Cynar made the drink even more golden than the Gold Rush itself. From the Penicillin I took the sweet component of half honey syrup and half ginger syrup simply because it is such a balanced and tasty combination and, even though it just the smallest of tweaks from the Gold Rush’s honey syrup, the extra warmth it brings is well worthwhile. Unlike the typical presentation of other three I decided I liked this one served up and the icing on the cake was to give a little bit of a foamy head. In this case I used a few dashes of Fee Foam* although you could use some egg white, aquafaba or other foaming agent. I felt I couldn’t take the name too far from its roots so I had little choice but to name it after a particularly whiney Neil Young song that I don’t even like very much. After all I did go to college with Neil Young. OK not that Neil Young but another one that a certain cheeky lecturer insisted on calling Goldrush.


After the Gold Rush.

2oz / 60ml Bourbon of choice (I used Buffalo Trace).

1oz / 30ml Fresh lemon juice.

0.25oz / 7.5ml ginger syrup.

0.25oz / 7.5ml honey syrup (3:1).

0.5oz / 15ml Cynar (or just a touch over if you like).

3 dashes of Fee Foam or a suitable amount of another foamer.

Shake hard with ice and strain into a chilled Champagne coupé.

Toast Neil Young.


 

*fi fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman**.

**Sorry, I can’t help myself sometimes.

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Hive Mind.

Where is my Mind?

 

Hive Mind.

A fair old whiley ago we talked about making some chipotle infused tequila for use in my very own Sun Stone. I don’t really like having ingredients that have just a single use so I feel it’s about time to do something more with our smoky, spicy tequila which you can read the instructions for making here. It’s worth noting that the prices for good quality, additive free, 100% agave tequila have gone through the roof since then so I’d add that if you’re strapped for cash you could just about get away with a less diligently made tequila or even decent mixto (to the very limited extent that such a thing exists).

The Hive Mind mitigates the spiciness of the chipotle with lemon juice and honey – a most soothing combination – and a touch of the marvellous amaro Montenegro which every good cocktailista should have in stock. While this combination will still give an exciting prickle on the lips and satisfying smoky warmth it still goes down smoothly and won’t give you any tummy troubles. The making of the chipotle tequila aside (which keeps pretty much indefinitely by the way) the Hive Mind is a simple shake-and-strain sour that craves no garnish and asks of no fancy techniques. It’s a bangin’ spring/summer drink that might be presented to guests when a Margarita seems just a touch too safe and predictable.


Hive Mind.

1.5oz / 45ml Chipotle infused tequila.

0.5oz / 15ml Amaro Montenegro.

10z / 30ml fresh lemon juice.

0.5oz / 15ml honey syrup (3:1).

Shake with ice and double strain into a chilled Champagne coupé.

Toast The Pixies (for no particular reason).


 

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Three Budget Gins.

It’s Gin o’clock!

Three budget gins.

The cost of living crisis has been tough on a lot of people and these days everything seems more expensive. Although the price of spirits has (at least in my experience) has not risen as fast as other food and drink there can still be less left in your pocket to splash out on luxury items. Like gin. The good news is that you don’t need to break the bank to get a decent mixing gin. The ongoing resurgence in popularity gin is currently enjoying has put a lot of more expensive luxury gins onto the market – and very fine and interesting many of them are too. But you don’t really need those fancy ass products to make certain cocktails, or even a decent G&T so today I’m a gonna hit you up with three gins that will serve you well and yet cost comfortably less than twenty standardised EU alcohol tokens for a 700ml bottle. Let’s go!

Gibson’s Gin.

For a typical price of 15 this really can’t be very good can it? Well despite the low price (and I can sometimes get it on sale for just 12) and low alcohol content of 37.5% Gibson’s is a bona fide British made London Dry gin with a nice crisp, clean nature. The botanicals are very standard so you won’t be getting to much excitement here but guess what? There are a whole bunch of classic cocktails where you don’t need or even want big botanical flavours. Classics such as a Singapore Sling, a Bin & Gitters or a Pegu Club use gin as a base because vodka just wasn’t a thing in the west yet (that only happened after 1945) and often were not particularly looking for much flavour input from that base spirit. While I wouldn’t use Gibson’s in a Martini, those cocktails with other big flavours will be none the wiser for the inclusion of this classic budget gin. Of course you don’t get much in terms of label design or fancy closures or bottles for your €15 but Gibson’s is perfectly serviceable and will not send you off to the food bank to make ends meet. It makes a passable Gin & Tonic – especially if you are using a flavoured tonic – but the two gins below are more interesting for that anyway.

Gordon’s Gin.

Despite its current somewhat lower shelf identity Gordon’s was once the gin that ruled them all and has a long and storied history as the British Empire’s gin of choice. I personally believe the decline began in 1992 when the alcohol percentage in the UK and Europe was cut back to the legal minimum of 37.5% in search of greater profitability. A false economy in my view as I – and likely many others – find it difficult to take a gin under 40% very seriously. It’s priced similarly to Gibson’s but has a bit more character largely due to some uniquely “piney” notes and it’s highly likely that many older gin based classic cocktail were actually created with Gordon’s as a base even if the modern variant is likely less punchy by the order of a few %. There similar good reasons to use Gordon’s to those I listed for Gibson’s but the former also makes a pretty respectable – and deeply classic – G&T. For the full 70’s experience pour it into a straight iced “chimney” glass with some basic Schweppes tonic and a slice of lemon. Just use a bit more ice than the single cube that was oft dispensed back in the day. All told Gordon’s remains a decent all-round gin for a very fair price despite being overtaken by more modern upstarts.

24 Herbs.

I was originally going to review this one separately but it fits well into this category so it’s going to read more “reviewy”: Very much the outlier in this trio being, as it is, not very old and not very British this Polish newcomer to the gin world is, at first glance, sending out some very mixed messages. The bottle is very sturdy for a budget gin with very thick blue/green tinted glass that I doubt would break even if you dropped it onto a tile floor. The well fitting stopper is nice and big, made of wood and plastic and frankly is as good a closure as I’ve seen at any price. The label, however, looks a bit clownish to me. You can see that they’re trying to be all “crafty” but it’s not totally convincing. Recipe going back to 1894? Hmmmm. 24 botanicals? Well there are just a few pictured and two of them don’t really exist so colour me sceptical. 40% abv? Now we’re talking! At €18 a bottle this is absolutely fine and puts Gordon’s and Gibson’s to shame. But the proof’s in the tasting and 24 Herbs is actually a cracking gin for the price. Balanced, yet interesting, it has moments of slight sweetness and moments of bitterness. It navigates the way between a juniper forward and a citrus forward magnificently and comes over much more mid-range than budget. This is absolutely a gin to go for if you’d like to make a low cost Gin & Tonic as it has enough character of its own to shine through even a pretty basic supermarket tonic. Even in times of plenty 24 Herbs it going to be a permanent fixture on my, admittedly crowded, gin shelf.

Conclusion.

You could save a pretty penny by using Gibson’s or Gordon’s in classic gin cocktails which contain liqueurs or other flavourings and notice nary a difference. For a hard-times G&T go for Gordon’s or 24 Herbs with some supermarket grade* tonic** and leave the Etsu and Fever Tree until payday.


*This will vary by location but for me in The Netherlands I like Schweppes when I can find it or Dirk’s own brand. Albert Hein tonic is too lemongrassy for my taste but others may like it.

**Even if you have to pour some out if your litre bottle gets a bit flat towards the end this still works out way cheaper than smaller bottles.

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Frigatebird.

Fly away with me.

Frigatebird.

It’s no secret that I’m a huge Tiki fanboy and am particularly awed by the work of Don The Beachcomber who single handedly created a cocktail genre nigh-on a century ago. Tiki drinks are once more in vogue with a plethora of modernist variations tagged onto the staples created by Don B and Trader Vic many of which rely on more recent products techniques. I recently challenged myself to come up with a new Tiki cocktail that used only the more limited assortment of liqueurs and spirits that would have been available to Don in the 1930s. It would need to be flavourfully deep and rich but also as majestic as the Magnificent Frigatebird* which soars gracefully above the tropical islands that were the (somewhat fanciful) inspiration for all things Tiki. Here I loosely adhere to the typical Tiki formula of one part sour, one part sweet and two parts rum but to create those deep, rich flavours I soar off in a different direction from the tropical fruit flavours that are often used in the sweet component by using the more temperately grounded French blackberry liqueur called Crème de Mûre that would have been relatively available in the US south-east at that time. But it needed more tropicality of course, as well as needing to stay dark to represent the plumage of the Frigatebird. Pimento dram, a heavily allspice flavoured liqueur from Jamaica that Don was very well acquainted with ticked all the boxes and combined beautifully with the mûre. Blackberry and pimento liqueurs vary fairly widely in sweetness so need to be adjusted to taste with a little simple syrup. I started my experiments using a relatively dry blackberry (bramen) jenever which needed half an ounce of syrup but something as sweet as a crème needs less so you’ll need to tweak accordingly. Our rums must also be dark and flavourful and my choice was an ounce of a navy rum and an ounce of a dark Jamaican. I used my own blend of the latter and Woods navy rum as the former but if you’re not in the UK you will have to use another navy proof rum such as Pussers. Assembly of the Frigatebird is a simple affair of shaking with crushed ice and dirty-dumping into a suitable glass – Mai Tai style. Due to the male Frigatebird’s impressive red throat a red or purple garnish is appropriate.


Frigatebird.

1oz / 30ml Navy rum (see text).

1oz / 30ml Dark Jamaican rum (see text).

1oz / 30ml Fresh  lime juice.

0.75oz / 22ml Crème de Mûre (see text).

0.25oz / 7.5ml Simple/Demerara syrup to taste (text).

0.25oz / 7.5ml Pimento dram** (pref. homemade).

2 solid dashes of Angostura bitters.

Shake well with crushed ice and pour unstrained into a largish tumbler or cognac glass. Garnish with something Tiki-ish in the red/purple end of the spectrum.

Toast the Magnificent Frigatebird, king of the Caribbean skies.


*That’s actually the bird’s name not just some attempt at some flowery prose from yours truly.

** also known as allspice liqueur or a variation of those words. St Elizabeth or Bitter Truth are two brands you can use if you are too damned lazy to make your own and/or don’t like money.

 

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Compass Rose + blood orange syrup.

Love like blood.

Compass Rose + blood orange syrup.

Blood oranges are a delicious fruit that at their best have raspberry-like flavours that ride on top of the usual oranginess, beautiful marbled flesh and peel that is often dusted with red flecks. But they have issues. You see, blood oranges only grow in quite specific conditions that require cold nights yet in a climate that can support orange trees. In Europe this means they mostly are grown in Italy where those conditions exist. This also means that blood oranges are very, very seasonal being available (in Europe at least) only from late January until mid spring. Damn. But they are in season as I write this so let’s make use of them while they’re here! I’ve always loved them for their garnishing powers, either as just swathes of the peel or dehydrated slices (which allows me to make a supply for the off-season) but I’ve been feeling I need to make better use of these magnificent fruity treasures so I made some blood orange syrup which borrowed from the super juice method to get the most from them. Method follows:

Carefully peel 3 large (or 4 smaller) blood oranges making sure not to get much of the white pith – a decent vegetable peeler being the best way IMHO. Keep the fruit. Cover the peels in 24g of citric acid crystals, stir in and leave for an hour stirring now and then. Squeeze the juice from the 3 naked blood oranges, sieve and add to the peels along with 400ml of water. Blend all of this for 15-20 seconds and strain what remains. Weigh this liquid and put in a clean pan. Add the same weight of white sugar and bring to the boil while stirring. Kill the heat immediately when it hits 100ºC or starts to bubble. Bottle in clean, still warm sterilised glass bottles – smaller ones will help preserve your supply. Fill those you want to keep longer right to the rim to minimise the air gap. They should keep at room temperature for quite a while if you do this right but this is my first attempt so time will tell (I’ll report back in due course). Refrigerate once you open a bottle. My yield was about 800ml and it makes a delicious soda syrup but we, being the evil little tinkerers that we are, will be using it for more nefarious purposes (heh, heh, heh).

Aeons ago, before I got into cocktails in the dying days of the 20th century the cocktailiest thing I did was to put some Myers’s rum and some ice into a glass of orange juice and damn if that was not pretty decent. I thought to use my blood orange syrup to re-create that nostaliga yet uplift it by a good few levels. And thus was born the Compass Rose. Yes, it’s an Old Fashioned variant which I feel I’ve not gone into often enough upon these pages. The rum is of course your choice but, if I may, I advise the following: Something from an island*, with no added sugar and a bit of barrel age in the 7-10 years bracket. Because of the citric acid content of the syrup we up the quantity a touch but again, personal preference applies. As to the bitters I found good ‘ole Angostura the most pleasing but feel free to try others – I know you will anyway you little monsters. And there’s little more to say – other than that Mrs Proof likes her blood orange syrup utilised in a Daiquiri. And she is never wrong**.


Compass Rose.

2oz/60ml aged Caribbean rum (See text but I used Appleton 8).

1.5 teaspoons of blood orange syrup (see above).

2-3 dashes of Angostura bitters.

Stir with ice and strain into a double Old Fashioned glass containing a large ice block or sphere. Garnish with a swathe of blood orange peel or if out of season a dehydrated blood orange wheel (as pictured) or just regular orange peel.

I toast DJ Steve my fruit-loving colleague who keeps me up to date on when and where to find the best blood oranges.


*This being my general golden rule for quality rummage, the sole exception being the Demerara rums of mainland Guyana.

**I am contractually obliged to state this.

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