After missing last month’s MxMo due to the Death Flu, I’m damned determined to get back in the saddle and on the horse and other metaphors as well. This month is “Variations” hosted by the indefatigable Jimmy Patrick over at Jimmy’s Cocktail Hour. Thanks for hosting, Jimmy!

The Caribbean Rim & trade area presents a great puzzle to armchair historians, specifically those who tipple. I’ve been fascinated not only with the classic Tiki Cocktails, but their common history in Rum production and dispersion. For this Mixology Monday, I present variations on Rum, Gum & Lime (+Mint).

From left to right: Grog, Caipirinha(fore), Daiquiri(back), Julep, and Mojito.

Limes came to the Caribbean (florida) in the 1500s. Rum (and aguardiente) production soon followed in the middle of the 1500s. In 1655, William Penn took Jamaica for the British. Rum soon replaced beer for British ships due to their newly opened Jamaican market.

Ships would carry beer and water for their long voyages. First they used the beer until it turned sour - at that point the men would turn to the water: stale and slimy from algae. The leftover beer would be used make the water a bit more palatable. Limes were also sometimes used to de-dankify the water supply. After 1655, however, rum replaced beer. by the 1750s, The entire British navy ran on rum. They watered down to 1:4 ratio, with lime juice added for better taste. Admiral Vernon is the man behind the order here, called “old Grog.” The popular history involves him and his cape creating the name for the beverage. Nonsense. Grog predates him in literature for at least a few decades. His title of “old Grog,” is after his use of the drink, not the other-way-round. My version is 1:2 - I guess you’re the Captain here.

Grog (1700s: Caribbean Seas)
1 oz Rum
2 oz Water
1 oz Lime
½ oz Simple Syrup

Mix all together without ice and serve in a copper cup.

The Portuguese came to what would become Brazil in the 1500s and brought their distilling skills with them. By 1650, they shipped their aguardiente for trade to Africa, used as ballast. We now know this rum-like product as the Brazilian Cachaça: Fiery, smoky, delicious. Slaves and peasants alike throughout the region were taking their rum, gum, and lime: Cane juice served as the sweetener. It may have been the 90’s that brought the Caipirinha to our shores, but it’s been around for a few centuries.

Caipirinha (1700s, Brazil)
1 lime, cut into eight wedges
1 tbsp evaporated cane sugar
3 oz Cachaça

Muddle the lime and sugar in a double rocks glass until the sugar has dissolved. Fill the glass with crushed ice, pour the Cachaça and stir.

Leave it to us humans to take something that already exists, re-brand it and pretend it a novel invention. Cubans had been drinking rum, gum & lime for a few hundred years before the War for Cuban independence brought the U.S. into Cuba. The war won the U.S. a source for natural resources. When Admiral Lucius W. Johnson brought back mine engineer Jennings Cox’s version, named after the nearby port of Daiquiri, Grog got fancy. When Prohibition hit, It’s no wonder Cuba became a popular travel destination.

Daiquiri (1905, Cuba)
2 oz light rum
1 oz fresh squeezed lime juice
1 oz simple syrup

Shake with cracked ice and strain into cocktail glass. Garnish with lime wedge.

The first mention of Julep is in a 1803 travel book by John Davis as a “dram of spirituous liquor that has mint steeped in it, taken by Virginians of a morning.” Eleven years later in 1814, William Wirt quotes a 25-year-old book in The Old Batchelor “… A man in this line rises about six o’clock; ” He then drinks a Julip, made of rum, water and sugar.” Note the lack of mint.

Julep comes from the Arabic Julab, a sweet drink to which medicine is added. One history has it spreading through Europe in the 1700s, then to the colonies. Others have it coming from Spanish refugees traveling to Louisiana in the late 1700s. Both used Rum. European and Caribbean ships unloaded their ships and men at the Virginian port of Jamestown as well as New Orleans. They also unloaded their rum and recipes.

Julep (1803, Virgina/New Orleans)
8 Mint leaves
1 tbsp evaporated cane sugar
3 oz light rum

Muddle sugar into mint leaves in mixing glass until you have a nice slurry. Add crushed ice to lip of glass. Add rum and swizzle mixture until glass frosts. Garnish with mint sprig.

Legend has it that in the late 1500s, Richard Drake, first cousin of Sir Francis Drake invented a drink called “The Draque.” It consisted of aguardiente, sugar, lime and mint. What a load of rubbish. Never mind the Aguardiente of the area started shipping in the 1650s, and that Richard Drake died in 1603. It’s a nice marketing story. I’ve read that some Cubans claim Ernest Hemingway invented the drink in the 1930s as a Caribbean Julep. Further primary research is needed, but I’m guessing the locals have been drinking their rum, gum and lime with mint since the 1800s.

Mojito (1800s/1930s, Cuba)
8 Mint leaves
1 tbsp evaporated cane sugar
1 lime, cut into eight wedges
2 oz light rum
1 oz charged water

Muddle lime, mint and sugar until you’re sick of muddling. Add 6 oz of crushed ice and rum. Shake and pour into Collins glass, top with charged water and stir to combine. Garnish with mint sprig.

I’ll come back to these and other drinks, such as bumboo, corn & oil, Rum & coke in later posts and as research allows. I might even have a flowchart.

Cheers!

-=C

p.s. Great thanks to Tikimama for her photography skills and to Trader Tiki for the on-location use of Reynoles’ Galley.

Well, that was an adventure! I still live!

About two weeks ago I went to Seattle with Tikimama. It was her semesterly residence at U-Dub and my excuse to go to Zig Zag. We’d been to Seattle for the Jet City Junket II in December of last year, but I was thwarted at any chance of getting some time at Zig Zag, so I jumped on this opportunity.

The next few entries will be about that wonderful trip - I hit up Zig Zag a few times, was blown away at Vessel, had a great time at Sun Liquor and was pampered at Licorous. It was outstanding, and I paid for it:

When I got home I was hit with the worst flu in nearly a decade. I lost nearly a week’s time in delirium, completely sleeping through Mixology Monday. I’m still coughing and weak. I did manage to spread the love with my friends and family, though. You’re Welcome.

What has kept me in spirits, so to speak? My current regular from Jeff Berry’s Sippin’ Safari: Three Dots and a Dash. You do have Sippin’ Safari, right?

Three Dots and a Dash (…- V)

½ ounce fresh lime juice
½ ounce fresh orange juice
½ ounce honey mix
1½ ounces amber Martinique rum
½ ounce demerara rum
¼ ounce falernum
¼ ounce pimento dram
6 ounces crushed ice

This morse-code lovely is credited to Donn at the Las Vegas Beachcomber restaurant during WWII (V for victory). I assemble this fellow following my new method picked up from the Navy Grog. I add all ingredients to a mixing pitcher and stir to combine. I crush the ice finely, add to the glass and pour the mixture in. I hand-swizzle and aerate the drink with a bar spoon until the glass frosts and add the garnish.

Moving up in favor as a regular is the Honi Honi. Remind me to wax rhapsodical about that in a future post, won’t you? These libations have kept me human in my few weeks of viral stupor. I suppose I could have counted on a Corpse Reviver (#2) to pop me on my feet, but even I can’t be that clever-clever. I’m glad to be back and 200 proof.

Cheers!
-=C

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.