I have a particular personal philosophy concerning functional art. In this specific case, the collecting of Tiki Mugs. I deeply feel that when functional art ceases being used, it ceases having relevance. It becomes less powerful; it becomes a memory. The idea of keeping a mug (no matter how ‘priceless’) that was made to be drunk from behind glass and unused is anathema to me. To me It’s perverting the item for one’s own personal fears (of it breaking, of it losing value) in favor of its spirit.

This is not a judgement against others who may differ: It’s your mug, do with it what you will. It’s my philosophy and there is no concrete aesthetic. My mugs, however, will be used. If it becomes damaged? If it breaks? Good. The Mug is already broken. All things are impermanent and eventually end: Such is the beauty of existence. I would rather celebrate these tokens full of the drinks they were made to hold than look at it with worry on the shelf, supposedly out of harm’s way.

I bring this up because when I make Rum Barrels, I use our two Rum Barrel mugs. One of which happens to be the Aku Aku Rum Barrel. It was made by Otagiri for the Aku Aku at the Stardust in Las Vegas. Heather found it at the Goodwill for 85¢. Ooga-Mooga has the value at $90. Ebay’s average is around $125. Do I care? Not a whit. I use it because it is a rum barrel, meant to hold the liquid art of the Rum Barrel cocktail.

Don’s Rum Barrel

1 oz fresh squeezed lime juice
1 oz fresh squeezed grapefruit juice
1 oz fresh squeezed orange juice
1 oz unsweetened pineapple juice
1 oz honey mix
1 oz Puerto Rican light Rum
1 oz Jamaican gold Rum
2 oz Demerara Rum
tsp falernum
tsp pimento dram
6 drops Pernod
6 drops grenadine
dash Angostura bitters
6 oz Ice

That’s the version in Sippin’ Safari. It’s a great recipe. However, to my taste, it turns out a bit subtle. So here’s my personal variation on the recipe. I’ve replaced the Pernod with Herbsaint, as I feel it more closely better supports the other flavors with a woody, earthy tone (I’ll use Absinthe when next I have some on hand). Pernod is too “pointy” and singular for my tastes in these recipes. I increase the falernum & pimento dram from 1/6 oz to 1/4 oz to better balance their role in the flavor. I use Fee’s brother’s old fashioned bitters for a hint of more spice. I don’t have any decent Puerto Rican rums, so I substitute Cruzan (a Virgin Islands rum).

The Monkey Hut Rum Barrel (based on Donn Beach’s recipe)

1 oz fresh squeezed lime juice
1 oz fresh squeezed grapefruit juice
1 oz fresh squeezed orange juice
1 oz unsweetened pineapple juice
1 oz honey mix
1 oz Cruzan light Rum
1 oz Appleton Special gold Rum
2 oz Lemon Hart Demerara Rum
¼ oz house falernum
¼ oz house pimento dram
6 drops Herbsaint
6 drops grenadine
dash Fee Brothers Old Fashioned bitters
6 oz Crushed Ice

You can also see my other Rum Barrel, the Mai-Kai reproduction from Tiki Farm. I picked that one up at the Mai-Kai gift shop during Hukilau 2006. They sit next to each other in the Monkey Hut. They come down when it’s time to drink from them.

Here are some more shots of this gorgeous functioning art in action:

Cheers!

-=C

We arrived in Seattle on a late Wednesday night. After we checked into the hotel, I tucked in the Tikimama (the poor soul had class at The U-Dub in the morning), and quickly changed into more suitable attire. I had a mission: Zig Zag was calling me.

The Hotel was only a few blocks away, so I hoofed it down to Pikes, then down those stairs, across the covered street crossing, and down again to Zig Zag Cafe.

Murray was there behind the bar as I pulled up a chair. I don’t have any pictures from Zig Zag because I don’t really feel right taking snaps in there. I’ve come to realize I’m a cocktail geek and a bartender groupie. I don’t mind pulling out the camera anyplace else, but I realize I’m self-conscious around Murray. I don’t want to be thought of as a weirdo (which I most likely am).

After the re-introductions, talk got to my current trip in Seattle and my plans of Hitting Vessel and Licorous. Murray mentioned I should also try Sun Liquor and provided a cocktail coaster with information to help me on my quest. After a Last Word, Corpse Reviver #2, and a Drink with no Name, I was on my way back to the Hotel and my lovely wife.

Thursday night was devoted to Vessel. Heather and I arrived at 7′o’clock to find it quite full. I was aghast at some the clientèle drinking wine and beer. Yes, I know it pays the bills, but do they know who is behind the bar? It’s Jamie Boudreau for crying out loud!

We seated ourself at a side table. I ordered a Test Pilot because I had to: I am foremost a Polynesian Pop cocktail enthusiast, after all. I appreciated that the drink on the menu was attributed to Earnest Raymond Beaumont Gant (which we all know as Don’s given name). It was perfect - though I detected Pernod (which is as to the recipe) and I prefer an absinthe or Herbsaint as a tiki pastis. As you can see, the drinks have gorgeous presentation and perfect glassware.

Heather ordered the much suggested Vessel 75, which single-handedly turned me on the idea of molecular mixology. I have in the past eschewed it for its trendy and pretentious post-modernism. Now that I know it can be damn tasty, I had to remove my prejudice. The Vessel 75’s foam is an important part of the drink, imparting a delicious maple note (and velvet mouthfeel) to a de-constructed old fashioned. I suppose I don’t mind the clever-clever when it produces such devious and perfect results. Luckily I have 2 isi charging carafes so I can play with one while charging water in the other.

The place wasn’t emptying out, and the gentleman at the bar was still nursing the same beer (BEER!) for 20 minutes, so we had another round at the small table. I just had to get to that bar! I remember reading about the Purgatory on Oh Gosh!, and having been on a Chartreuse kick lately (and knowing that Jamie was waxing on about it at his own blog and would likely know the drink) I ordered one.

It was, as I had assumed, fantastic. It reminded my of the popular whiskey / 2 modifier formula I have come to adore in such drinks as Everybody’s Irish, Manhattan, and Monte Carlo (thanks for that introduction, Martin). I definitely need to fix my Benedictine drought. Heather ordered the Frick cocktail, since she loves figs and bourbon.

By this time, the bar opened up and we sidled into place so I could watch and chat with Jamie, who immediately wanted to know why/who the hell ordered a drink from Missouri. I introduced myself and explained about my Chartreuse kick. Jamie suggested his own Rubicon for my next beverage and I had to comply. I’ve been playing with the formula of the Last Word before (my Luaahi), but this (to my categorization method) variation was unbelievable and miles beyond my current skill.

Replace the lime with lemon, and add bruised rosemary, flaming the chartuese to further express the oils? Brilliant. Devine and effortless.

The pictures stopped there as friends arrived and conversation continued. I do remember sampling the 21 year old Rittenhouse Rye. I remember the wonderful contrast of mouthfeel to spice notes. I stopped mentally documenting and became the social Craig at that point. It was a wonderful evening.

There was enough time afterwards to get a quick drink back at Zig Zag. One track mind. More about that in the next part.

I’ve luckily had Falernum around since 2003 thanks to Martin Cate (who introduced me to John D. Taylor’s) and Blair (who bought a case way back when). I’ve compared to the Fee Brother’s version. And thanks to Paul Clarke, I’ve done home-made. The below recipe is my first attempt to tweak Paul’s recipe to my own taste. It came out quite nicely. However, I’m almost out so it will soon be time for #2.

Falernum #1

40 cloves, crushed
5 allspice berries, crushed
½ cup blanched almonds, dry-roasted
¼ cup diced fresh ginger
6 limes, zest of
750 ml 120 clipper Cruzan rum
½ tsp almond extract
750 ml 2:1 simple
375 ml lime juice

Add almonds, Cloves, Allspice, ginger and lime zest in mason jar with the rum. Let this macerate for at least 2 days. Strain macerated mixture through flour-sack dishcloth. Be sure to squeeze all that goodness out! Add tincture to equal amount of 2:1 simple syrup and ½ amount lime juice. Add almond extract. Pour into clean, sanitized 16 oz canning jars and hot-process for 5 minutes. Makes 7 jars of completely shelf stable falernum. You should be able to store this almost indefinitely.

I know that the original recipe calls for cold-processed simple syrup, but it is the opinion of this author that the difference is completely negligible. I plan to test that hypothesis with a double blind (and scientific as possible) taste test soon to be posted to this journal. We’ll see whether or not my hunch is full of it.

The idea to can the Falernum came out of my laziness. I regularly make batches of syrups, drams and other little tinctures. More often than not they will go bad before I’ve used them up. I’d find myself at a bottleneck with that choice ingredient non-existent. Tired of not being able to quickly whip up that Navy Grog or Nui Nui without first replenishing my supply, I thought if I could make a large batch and can it, I could have a back stock of syrups and concoctions ready to go at my whim: When the backs get low, another batch goes together.

Next Falernum, I’ll up the lime a bit, hit the ginger a tad, and use J. Wray for the spirit for extraction. Look out for Falernum #2 coming soon…

December 5, 1933: The twenty-first amendment is ratified and the failed experiment of Prohibition of Alcohol in the United States of America ends. Jeffery Morgenthaler has been trumpeting the recognition of Repeal Day as a damn fine Domestic holiday for years.

This Mixology Monday’s theme is Prohibition hosted by the man himself. My submission is below, based on the prohibition-contemporary cocktail “Everybody’s Irish.” Irish expatriates who brought their knowledge of distillery with them to the Americas soon were making their own Whisk(e)y. When Prohibition hit, domestic distillers of American Rye and Bourbon stopped (officially) producing whiskey. However, Canada was still producing. Though the Canadian Whisky is Scottish in origin, we’ll just ignore that bit (since Scots are Irish anyway who moved to the north of the English Island, displacing the Picts). I thought a fun change of the “Everybody’s Irish” cocktail would be to honor their ingenuity with domestic sources and use a likelier ingredient of prohibition: Canadian Whisk(e)y.

I’ve loved Chartreuse since first tasting it when my friend David from Oak Hall, Virginia brought a bottle when he visited us in the early 00’s. It wasn’t until earlier this year when I had a Last Word at Zig Zag Cafe in Seattle that I considered it for mixing. I’d loved the idea of the Irish cocktails in Classic Cocktails of the Prohibition Era but until Mur the blur poured that Last Word, I’d not braved it. I’ve since made up for it.

The drink is delicious and would likely work with any Whisk(e)y you have about. I’ve tried Rye & Canadian so far. The olive (while questionable at first) is a nice contrast to help you taste the contribution of the Creme de Menthe and the Chartreuse. Also, the Green and Red of the drink and olive remind you December is Christmastime. Enjoy!

Everybody’s Irish American

1 tablespoon Green Chartreuse
1 tablespoon Green Creme de Menthe
2 oz. Canadian Whisky

Stir with ice and strain into 3 oz cocktail glass. Garnish with olive speared on a cocktail pick.

-=C

This is my first entry for a Mixology Monday. Jay Hepburn over at Oh Gosh! is this month’s host and the theme is gin.

I adore gin. I am not overly fond of delicate gins, however. You can keep your Bombay Saphires and your Tanqueray Tens. I like my gin strong, botanical, and — dare I say it — harsh. I have a secret. I’m a sucker for good bad gin. I don’t mean bottom shelf dive bar well gins mind you: I’m talking about Seagram’s, Gordon’s, Gilbey’s. I do love Aviation and Boodles and Plymouth, but lately the wallet dictates a more modest investment. An aside: Notice how premium gins seem to drop the apostrophe before their final ’s’? “Apostrophe s? How common.”

So, what’s a mixologist to do? Luckily a good hearty gin is a perfect component of vintage gin cocktails. It’s the harsh nature of the spirit (legal and illegal) that likely led to the numerous gin cocktails in the first place. At least that’s the common folk history I hear bandied about.

Here’s my lowbrow highbrow cocktail, The Madagascar Gin Sour. You could also call it a Vanilla Lemon Gimlet, which would be more descriptive. The lovely wife likes the combination of lemon and vanilla and I happened to have a bunch of vanilla syrup about for Tiki Drinks. I thought I’d try it as the sweet component of a sour mix for a gimlet-like cocktail. I didn’t expect it to balance so well on the first try. It’s gorgeous (if I do say so myself, and I do):

Madgascar Gin Sour

2 oz Good Bad Gin
½ oz Fresh Lemon Juice
½ oz Vanilla Syrup*
2 dashes Fees Brothers Lemon Bitters
Lemon peel garnish

Dissolve syrup in lemon juice in a mixing glass. Add 3 oz ice, gin, bitters and stir to mix. Pour into small cocktail glass, express lemon oil on drink and drop peel in the glass.

Be sure to hit up Oh Gosh! to see everyone else’s submission and make yourself a nice cocktail when you get home from work on Monday. Goodness knows you deserve it.

-=C

*Vanilla Syrup

We keep vanilla sugar for baking. It’s easy - just drop a few spent vanilla pods into a container and fill with sugar. In two weeks time, the sugar will be infused with vanilla. You can replace the vanilla extract in your favourite baking recipe with the vanilla sugar. The longer it sits, the better it gets. Whenever you remove some sugar, add the same about of regular sugar to the container and you can keep it going for up to 2 years or so.

Make simple syrup out of this vanilla sugar (I do 2:1 sugar:water, bring softly and slowly to a boil. Remove from heat as soon as the mixture clears — be careful as the sugar will caramelize quickly) and viola: vanilla syrup.