Measure & Stir

A Craft Cocktail Blog for the Home Bartender that Focuses on Original Creations Drawn from Culinary Inspiration.


3 Comments

Singularity: Peach, Cinnamon, Bourbon

By request, this drink is called the Singularity. Yes, I am referring to that singularity. My good friend Andy is getting married, and I am serving the drinks at his wedding reception. The bride and groom have each requested a themed cocktail, and I have been happy to oblige them. Andy requested a drink themed after the singularity.

It’s hard to make a drink truly match something as abstract as the technological singularity, but my approach was to pull out some molecular gastronomy and leverage as much technology as possible. In addition to that, I decided to make it seasonal, because peaches are in season, and peaches are delicious.

singularity1

For version one of the drink, I was inspired by this lapsang souchong sour from the lovely Charlotte Voisey. Real talk, I think I have an internet crush on her. Her drinks are fantastic and she has an adorable accent. Anyway, I loved the idea of resting some fragrant tea on top of the foam of an egg white sour. I think it made a beautiful presentation, but in my zeal for aesthetics, I allowed the tea leaves to float too close to the rim of the glass. I then received a sip full of tea leaves. It was not pleasant. I felt that the random fall of the tea leaves resembled Chinese characters, which was intriguing.

Moreover, I found that the aroma of the tea was not as strong as I had hoped. My tea was either not fragrant enough or not fresh enough. I used Earl Grey, and infused it into bourbon, instead of into the syrup, because I have had better luck with tea in spirit infusions than with tea syrups.

There is a delicate balance to find when infusing tea into spirits. Too long, and the spirit becomes over-burdened with tannin, resulting in a caustic dry mouthfeel. I tested my infusion after a mere ten minutes, and as soon as I began to detect the tannin, I stopped the infusion. Unfortunately, it did not soak up enough tea to find balance against the simple syrup, egg white, and lemon in this drink.

Image

Singularity
1.5 oz Cinnamon-infused bourbon
.75 oz lemon
.5 oz simple syrup
.25 oz peach gel*
1 egg white
Combine all in a mixing glass and blend with an immersion blender. Add ice and hard shake. Double strain into a coupe and top with concentric rings of peach gel and fresh grated cinnamon.

For version two of this drink I dropped the tea in order to highlight a flavor that I adore with peaches: cinnamon. In order to emphasize the flavor of the peach, I used peach gel both as a garnish and as an additive to the drink. The combination of the gel and the egg white gave it a wonderful velvety texture, while a un undertone of cinnamon formed a foundation for peach and bourbon flavors.

A note on method: immersion blenders instantly make perfect egg white foam. I have completely abandoned dry-shaking my egg white drinks in favor of the immersion blender method. My egg white drinks are thick and frothy, with perfect aeration. It’s as if I did a hard, dry shake for two or three minutes! This was the first piece of science in the drink; to use a hand blender to master the egg white emulsion.

*Peach Gel
3 ripe peaches, peeled
juice of one orange
3 tbsp Ultratex 3
Combine all in blender and store in a plastic squeeze bottle

Ultratex 3 is a modified tapioca starch that swells in water at room temperature. It has good stability at a range of temperatures, and can be used to thicken raw juices up to the texture of a syrup or a gel without heating. I tried mixing it with bourbon to make bourbon with the texture of caramel… it was a little disgusting, but ultratex does wonderful things with fruit juices. This gel will keep in the fridge for about three days. After that, it still tastes alright, but it loses some of its brighter flavors and color, and becomes oxidized.

Keep it science.


3 Comments

Jack Rose

Alright, we’ve been getting a little too crazy around here. It’s time to dial it back and make something classic. Fortunately I’ve had a bottle of Berneroy XO Calvados burning a hole in my bar, and it’s so delicious it’s almost like cheating. It’s not quite as assertive as Laird’s Bonded Apple Brandy, which is my default for these kinds of drinks, but it has a very round, complex apple flavor, with a perfect balance of oak and vanilla from aging.

Building off of that fine Calvados, I made some grenadine using Jeffrey Morgenthaler’s recipe. I had used this process before, but I had omitted the pomegranate molasses. This time, I managed to procure some, and the difference is astonishing. Unlike sugar cane molasses, pomegranate molasses is tart and raisiny, and it transforms the grenadine from a mere pomegranate syrup into something reminiscent of a lime cordial, except with pomegranate. After tasting this style of grenadine, I will never go back.

jack rose

Jack Rose
1.5 Calvados
.5 oz Grenadine
.5 oz Lime Juice
Shake over ice and double strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lime wheel.

I think a classic Jack Rose is made with lemon, but I have tried both variations and I prefer mine with lime. As much as I like mixing Spinach and Orgeat, drinks like the Jack Rose have endured for a reason. They are delicious.

Cheers.


5 Comments

The Grimace: Rye, Lemon, Sweet Purple Yam Jam

Ube Halaya, or Sweet Purple Yam Jam (it’s fun to say!) is a popular flavor in the Philipines. If you are looking for wacky cocktail ideas for your admittedly gimmicky blog, (I prefer to think of it as cocktail entertainment), you could do a lot worse than to take a stroll through an ethnic market that is not catering to SWPL people.

the grimace 2

It was in such hallowed halls that I found rainbow-dyed sweetened dried coconut strips, and also a smooth-textured jam of purple yams. The jam was very sweet, and the best way to balance it was against some lemon juice.

As much as I try not to endlessly make different-flavored sours, it is a reliable choice, because it always tastes good. If you get into a cocktail-making challenge, just mix lemon, a base spirit, and an appropriate sweetener. You will not win on originality, but you will probably win on flavor.

the grimace 1

The Grimace
2 oz Woodinville Rye
.5 oz Ube Jam (adjust to your taste)
.5 oz Lemon Juice
Shake over ice and double strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with rainbow coconut strips.

The cone of purple and the rainbow pastels had a McDonaldsy aesthetic, so I called it the Grimace. I admit it might not be the most appealing name, but it was delicious. The yam was beautiful with the spicy, woody taste of the rye.

By the way, Woodinville Rye is phenomenal. It was a tad pricey in Seattle, but the flavor of the mash is bright and distinctive. I would recommend it to anyone who enjoys whiskey, or anyone who ought to, which is everyone.


3 Comments

Vanilla-Bourbon, Cranberry, Pecan Orgeat, Maple Syrup

Thanksgiving. Turkey time. A day spent with friends and family, stuffing ourselves into food comas. What are we thankful for? Bourbon whiskey, amari, and mezcal, of course!

Berry Nutty Maple Whiskey Sour
2 oz Vanilla-infused bourbon
.75 oz Cranberry juice
.5 oz Maple syrup
.5 oz Pecan orgeat
Dash of angostura bitters

Shake over ice, double-strain into a coupe glass. Garnish with a pecan praline.

For today’s drink, we wanted to mix something using fresh cranberry juice. Let me emphasize the “fresh” part. Remember to keep it craft and always use real, freshly-juiced cranberries. None of that ocean spray 20% cranberry nonsense. Fresh cranberry juice is a splendid cocktail ingredient because it’s an excellent source of acidity, and using it is a great way to add sourness to a drink without relying on citrus juice.

To make pecan orgeat, we used the Serious Eats orgeat recipe, except that we used pecans instead of almonds. The sweetness of the vanilla-infused bourbon and maple syrup balance the sourness from the cranberry juice. The pecan orgeat adds a smooth, sweet, mild, buttery nuttiness, and tastes great with maple syrup. Honestly, when you make a drink using ingredients like these, its deliciousness is self-evident.

And now, to enjoy while perhaps sipping on a cocktail and nibbling on the last of grandma’s jell-o mold, I leave you with some lame Thanksgiving-inspired jokes:

What did the turkey say to the computer?
“Google, google!”

What kind of music did the pilgrims listen to?
Plymouth Rock.

What do you call an unhappy cranberry?
A blueberry!

Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving.


2 Comments

Miracle Mango Sour

Chok Anan or “Miracle Mango” is a the most common mango cultivar in Thailand. I wish I could tell you that the mango soju sour I am going to share with you today was infused with miracle mangos, but the fact is, it was made with a cultivar from the USA, the nearly ubiquitous Tommy Atkins. At the peak of its ripeness, this is not a bad mango, but it is far from the best. If you decide to make this drink at home, I highly, highly suggest that you use a better cultivar, such as my personal favorite, the Ataulfo. I have not actually tried a Chok Anan, but I think that would be even better, given the spirit of this drink (pun most certainly intended).

When I first received news of the Thai cocktail challenge, I set out five infusions for my mixing lab. My infusions were Juniper, Bird’s Eye Chile, Mango Basil, Sugar Cane, and Kaffir Lime/Galangal/Lemongrass. Those of you who enjoy Thai food can probably anticipate tomorrow’s drink, based on that information. Sugar cane, by the way, was entirely underwhelming, and when I tried mixing it with orange juice, it was positively awful. Thus did I kiss my dreams of a Mai Thai good bye. I haven’t given up hope for the sugar cane infusion, but it pairs with orange juice about as well as garlic pairs with whipped cream. Maybe if you’re Ferran Adrià you can make that work, but I sure can’t. Juniper-infused soju may taste like gin, but sugar cane-infused Soju resembles rum only metaphorically.

Anyway, I wanted this cocktail menu to feature an egg white sour, as I consider the genre to be one of the more interesting products of the modern mixology revival, and I figured we would pick some relatively unchallenging flavors. I infused a handful of Thai basil in this Soju for two days, and the flesh of a Tommy Atkins mango for four, and the result was a hint of basil on the sip, followed by a rich mango backend.

“Miracle” Mango Sour
2 oz Mango-Basil infused Soju
.5 oz Passion Fruit Syrup
.5 oz lime juice
.5 oz egg white
Dry shake, and then shake over ice. Strain into a coupe glass and garnish with a lime twist.

In my original formulation of this drink, which is pictured, I used .75 oz each of lime juice and passion fruit syrup, and only .5 oz of egg white. As a result, the ratio of egg white to other ingredients was too low, and the drink did not acquire a pleasing foam head. Upon further consideration, I decided that the syrup and lime in my first version were too high, which is why I have presented a slightly scaled down version of the sweet/sour component of this drink. I believe that with this formulation, the .5 oz of egg white will be enough to froth correctly.

Moreover if I had it to do over again, I would probably skewer a couple of mango cubes on a bamboo skewer, and wrap a lime twist around it. So, in summary: do what I said, not what I did, use a miracle mango to make the infusion, and garnish more artistically. There’s always a tradeoff with egg white sours between double-straining to remove any fine pieces of ice vs. creating a superior foam head. Different shaking techniques can minimize ice sharding, so we’ll probably have to talk about that soon.

Cheers.


1 Comment

Gastrique Sour

Last weekend I was feeling astringent, and that meant it was time to make gastrique.  I confess, what I truly desired was not a gastrique but a shrub, but shrubs take several days to make, whereas you can cook up a gastrique in much less than an hour. Both ingredients are made from sugar and vinegar, so if you desire the tang of acetic acid and you don’t have the luxury of waiting two days for your syrup to pickle, a gastrique might be the previously unknown secret desire of your heart.

I followed this Serious Eats recipe, which I shall recount briefly for you here, in case clicking on one more hyperlink is too much effort for your web-weary mind and fingers.

Blueberry Gastrique
1 cup sugar
2 tablespoons of water
1 cup apple cider vinegar
1/2 cup smashed blueberries

Combine water and sugar in a pot and cook on medium high heat. Prior to cooking, the sugar should have the texture of wet sand. Heat the sugar until it dissolves and begins to bubble and undulate. Do not stir. Watch the sugar until it has caramelized into a beautiful golden brown, and then add the apple cider vinegar, and reduce the heat to medium. When the caramel has fully dissolved in the vinegar, add the blueberries and stir. Simmer for a few minutes to allow the flavors to meld, and then strain out the blueberry pulp.

Making Caramel is, in fact, very easy, and I got this right on my first try. So will you. Gastrique is traditionally served as a sauce on fish or meat, but it’s great in a mixed drink, as you will discover if you try it. The complex flavor of caramel and cider vinegar is best-suited to brown spirits such as bourbon or aged rum; I tried it with Wray and Nephew and it wasn’t right at all. A shrub might go with a lighter spirit, but there is a certain synergy between the brownness of caramel and the brownness of bourbon or rye.

Blueberry Gastrique Sour

1.5 oz Rye Whiskey (Old Overholt)
.5 oz Lime Juice
.5 oz Blueberry Gastrique

Shake over ice and double-strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a sprig of fresh rosemary.

Even though the vinegar is sour, you need to treat this ingredient like a syrup. It retains the flavor of vinegar, but the sugar in the caramel and the berries flattens its acidity, so citrus juice is still needed. Vinegar has a great flavor, but it’s not something you want to inhale like a scotch. That’s why I garnished the drink with an aromatic herb; the scent of the rosemary saves you from the vinegar’s smell, while complementing its savory qualities.


3 Comments

Sleepy Bear: Bärenjager, Blackberries and Rum

I’ve had a bottle of Bärenjager burning a hole in my bar for a while now, and I have found it to be tremendously un-useful. It’s a delicious dessert, stirred over ice and with a dash of bitters, but as far as mixing into drinks, it’s a loser. The honey flavor, so engaging on its own, is easily lost among other spirits. I had originally wanted to use it to make the Bee’s Knees, a classic gin sour using honey instead of sugar, but what I found was that the proportion of the liqueur had to be increased substantially before the flavor of honey was discernible, and by then the resulting drink was far too sweet.

Stick to honey syrup for a more pronounced honey flavor. The temptation exists to try pure honey, but it does not integrate well with more aqueous elements, and will sink to the bottom of your shaker or blender, spitefully refusing your entreaties.

Honey Syrup

1 part honey
1 part sugar
1 part water

Combine in a sauce pot on medium heat until fully integrated. Fortify with a bit of vodka or a bit less of a neutral grain spirit.

I used Bärenjager for this drink, and it worked pretty well, but you can get the same flavor in a six dollars worth of syrup as in thirty plus dollars worth of liqueur, and then you can spend the money on better rum.

Sleepy Bear

2 oz Dark Rum (Matusalem Clasico 10)
.75 oz Bärenjager (or honey syrup)
.75 oz lime juice
6 Blackberries

Muddle the blackberries in the honey liqueur or syrup until you have a fresh honeyed jam. Shake all ingredients over ice and then double strain into an old fashioned glass over fresh ice. Garnish with a lime wheel and a blackberry.

I used a toothpick, cleverly positioned, to make the blackberry stick to the lime wheel. Blackberries and honey both seem like ingredients which would be very enticing to bears, and I don’t know if that also goes for rum, but if I were a bear, I’m pretty sure I’d be all over it, and then I’d take a nap, hence the name. Simple creations are often the best ones, and this is a seasonal drink that I would be proud to serve to any guest.

There are no bitters in this drink because the blackberries on their own have a bitter component to them, and they complete the back-end of this drink unassisted.