Peppermint Nickel

Intro

Every now and then, the ingredients in something will combine in a way that simply doesn’t make sense. I suppose those who make artificial flavorings know this best. I’m reminded particularly of Beanboozled, where a series of edible flavorings are muddled together in a way that they almost taste like something gross (baby wipes, skunk, moldy cheese, etc.). But what they actually taste like is a typical sugar-filled Jelly bean with a obnoxious and extremely pungent upfront smell. Arguably, if you didn’t know what you were supposed to be tasting, you might not be able to identify it.

I was recently reminded of this phenomenon at the Zig Zag Cafe in Seattle. Seeking to challenge the bartender and hoping to come home with an idea or two for my own bottle, I asked Eric to make me something with Zubrowka that wasn’t a Bisongrass Fizz (a drink from a previous seasonal menu). The flavors of anise have long been known to mix well with Zubrowka, so I wasn’t surprised when he pulled out the Yellow Chartreuse. What did surprise me is how the bisongrass, Chartreuse and Calvados mixed together to produce a flavor not associated with any of them: peppermint. Not in an over-powering or artificial way, but rather in a subtle and herbal way. It seemed only right to garnish with a mint sprig.

Recipe

1 1/2 oz Zubrowka Polish Bisongrass Vodka
3/4 oz Yellow Chartreuse
3/4 oz Calvados Cardinal

Combine the ingredients over ice, stir until chilled and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with mint sprig.

Coming Spring 2012

Intro

Occasionally, I find the process of reading cocktail blogs to be frustrating. How often do I actually have the ingredients called for? I am fortunately enough that I can typically substitute for a like-type liquor, but occasionally I run across a recipe that requires no substitution if it’s to be enjoyed at home as much as it was enjoyed at the bar. While I don’t know the name of this recipe I recently experienced at Zig Zag Cafe, I do know that it calls for simply no substitutes in the Amaro department. Gran Classico has a flavor profile that simply doesn’t lend itself to substitutes in this cocktail. Interestingly enough, the rye and tequila are quite interchangeable, albeit dissimilar.

I’ve been assured by Eric that the recipe will find its way onto the spring cocktail menu at Zig Zag.

Recipe

2 oz Rye or Reposado Tequila
1 oz Dolin Dry
1/2 oz Gran Classico bitters
2 dashes orange bitters
Garnish with Lemon Peel

Stir and strain into a cocktail glass.

 

Survivin’ the White Dog Revolution

Intro

Prior to prohibition, it is estimated that the United States had thousands of distilleries, even if you just counted the legal ones. Today, 80 years post prohibition, we are still counting by hundreds, not thousands. Most of those produce either vodka, gin or rum with hopes of bringing to market the next big micro as soon as possible. The future, however, lies in brandy and whiskey, a return to our past. As Jeffrey Morganthaler put it, “Not all things are better from artisan producers. Whiskeys, since they’re so steeped in tradition, taste better from larger distilleries. It takes a lot of time and practice.” That doesn’t bode well for this generation of whiskey and brandy drinkers, but there might be hope for the future generations.

It also doesn’t mean that all artisan produces must become macro distilleries. But they will require considerable investment, much of which might be sinked, in perfecting their mashes, techniques, and aging to compete for the long-term opportunities. In the meantime, expect to see a lot of white dog on the market.  The question becomes what to do with all this unaged whiskey made from every kind of grain.  I personally have more than 10 varieties of white whiskey, made from corn, wheat, barley, rye, and even oat.  Perhaps you fall into the same camp. You visit a distillery, enjoy the sampling, and buy a bottle out of appreciation. Then you get it home; it looks great for a few days until buyer’s remorse sets in. But I believe the cure to this problem is a Ted Haigh recipe published in issue 27 of Imbibe Magazine (Sep/Oct 2010) called “Stars Fell on Alabama.”

As Ted points out, this is a recipe designed for unaged corn whiskey and tastes best only with the best of such products, impossible to obtain without a familial connection. I’ve found, however, that nearly all the unaged whiskeys in my own possession work quite well and each offers its own unique nuances. Corn still tastes best, but every one of the white dog varieties that I’ve had thus far has brought with it an appreciation for its own unique characteristics. With that in mind, not every white dog is created equal. This drink won’t necessarily mask the failed efforts of a soon-to-be-extinct distillery. But if you like the white dog straight, this recipe should only enhance it.

Recipe

2 oz White Dog
1 dash Peychaud’s bitters
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash orange flower water
1 dash simple syrup (this might need to vary by spirit)
3 drops absinthe (I use 9 sprays from an atomizer)

Fill a rocks glass with ice. Build recipe in the glass. Garnish with just about anything; cherries are my favorite, but a lemon/orange wedge also works well. Nothing also seems to work well, at least in all the white dogs I’ve tried thus far.

Notes

The original recipe for “Stars Fell On Alabama” calls for straining the cocktail into a coupe glass and no garnish. I find it more enjoyable on the rocks with a little somthing to look at. I would encourage anyone to play around with the ingredients to your own delight.  When made properly, this cocktail is mostly white, with a tinge of pink.  When I make it, it’s red; maybe pink to some, but pretty darn red as I see it. Your interpretations of a dash may vary, not just by person by even by base spirit.

If you decide you like the cocktail, I’ve actually made up a small bottle (2 oz) of mixture that can be introduced into any new spirit gradually, until you find the right combination. Just mix equal parts of the non-whiskey ingredients and you’re good to go (assume one drop of Absinthe equals 2 pumps from an atomizer or 1 dash).  Enjoy the revolution.

Sammy’s Beach Bar Rum

In 2008, the red rocker sold his interest in the Tequila company he founded and built so that it might be exported all over the world.  The winner of several competitions and awards, Cabo Wabo Tequila was not just a crappy product with a rock star’s name on the label.  It was a thoroughly researched and crafted premium product at a modest, yet still premium price.  I remember this first time I saw the bottles on liquor store shelves.  $39 for a blanco was still more than I was accustomed to paying, but seems cheap by comparison to some of the money I am shelling out these days for a single bottle of cognac, whiskey or tequila.

If you’ve read his autobiography, the one thing about Sammy Hagar that is abundantly clear is his insatiable pursuit of the new.  He’s gone from Montrose to solo to Van Halen to Solo to Chickenfoot, each time for a different reason and yet despite the celebrity status afforded him by all these rock’n'roll connections, none has made him as wealthy as his passion for premium spirits.  With Cabo Wabo now behind him it shouldn’t surprise anyone that Sammy Hagar would turn his attention to Maui (where he owns a part time home) and inject some red into the rum production opportunities that exist there.

Hawaii has long been known for its sugar; I can remember the C&H commercials as a child emphasizing “from Hawaii” in the jingle (“growin’ in the sun…”).  But in the past several years, a number of new distilleries have popped up along the island chain producing everything from a deep water vodka to a number of locally grown and produced rums (not to be confused with those Hawaiian rums made in Bardstown, KY).  Like most of the micro-distilleries in other states, aged spirits are just starting to be released from the old-timers that survived their first 5 years, but clear spirits are still the norm.  If Beach Bar rum follows the most predictable pattern, we should see aged variants within the next 2-3 years.

Given that it won’t be available on the mainland until at least March, I suppose I will come out and say it; Sammy’s Beach Bar Rum is the best rum made in Hawaii and should be a formidable competitor internationally as well.  I tried the rum alone, in select cocktails, and side-by-side against Hawaiian craft distillery rums, and industry leading rums and this is a great spirit. But it’s not without it’s problems.

Most of the other Hawaiian rums I’ve tried tend to have a caramel/chocolate boquet, a sweet front, a sharp rise in flavor and lingering finish that is overtaken by the taste of alcohol. Beach Bar Rum, on the other hand, is more like a Jamaican rum or Cachaça in the nose. It has that fresh sugar cane smell to it (though not as pungent as Cachaça) combined with the familiar scent of a Martinique rum like Depaz. The taste comes in three waves, but without the peaks and valleys typical of rum. As it hits the lips and tip of the tongue, it briefly reminds me of a muscat canelli dessert wine before filling the mouth with fresh sugarcane. This is where SBBR strays from other rums.  It does not have the sugar flavor found in the middle of most rums.   It is difficult to determine whether this is intentional. The rum takes on a hollowness and the fresh sugarcane lingers after the finish (some have called it a petrol scent). As a result, it doesn’t really taste like rum but nor does it taste like any other spirit but rum.  The overall experience is best described as a cross between Jamaican rum and Cachaça. It works well for me, but many people accustomed to the sweet style rums have found its “petrol” aroma challenging. In most cases, blending a little simple syrup with the rum has made it more palatable for these folks.

As for cocktails, SBBR can be substituted for any white rum, unless you need a very subtle rum flavor or the sweetness factor.  The sugarcane flavor can stand out, and unfavorably so in some cocktails.  Tiki drinks and other Hawaiian favorites are likely to benefit the most from SBBR’s flavor profile but any classic cocktail or punch recipe that calls for Jamaican rum could also be a match.  The cocktail that I think complements and highlights the rum’s flavor best is a modified version of my Brazilian recipe.  The recipe was originally intended to go with the Brazilian rum, Oronoco, but SBBR actually works quite well for a drier cocktail (though not all patrons agree).  However, since it’s Blood Orange and Meyer Lemon season, I would encourage you to try the Festivus on Maui.

Festivus on Maui

2 oz Sammy’s Beach Bar Rum
1/2 oz Licor 43
1/4 oz fresh Meyer Lemon juice
1/4 oz fresh blood orange juice

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

Overall, my biggest complaint with Sammy’s Beach Bar Rum is the name.  I realize he likes to name his spirits after his establishments, but SBBR just doesn’t have the same ring to it as Cabo Wabo did.  I am certainly no expert at naming things myself, but I would have loved to see his rockin’ version of Hawaiian Sup’pa man coincide with a launch of a rum made on the island named for the Hawaiian god.  Despite the name, the packaging is as beautiful as the product inside it.

Muscat Tangerine Shrubb

Intro

During cherry season, I was treated to a wonderful cocktail with a slightly bitter tinge that I hadn’t experienced before.  I was welcomed into the world of shrubb.  While circumstances didn’t allow this experience to consume me, the desire to make my own remained dormant in the back of my mind.  I did try to make my own cherry shrubb from an online recipe, only to find I’d missed cherry season by a few days.  When Christmas came around, however, it was time to resurrect the notion and tangerine oranges seemed like the proper fit for recipes I’d be taking to various gatherings.

Recipe

The recipe should yield just about 375ml.

8 oz Jamaican rum
2-3 Tangerines (if using cuties, you might need 4-5)
2 cups sugar
1 tsp orange flower water
4 oz Trader Joe’s Muscat-Orange Champaign Vinegar
1/3 cup water

Slice the oranges and place in a 200 degree oven for 30-50 minutes or until dry and gummy.  Remove from oven and macerate in the rum for 2 hours.  At the one hour mark, add 1 cup of sugar and the vinegar.

In a separate pan, mix 1/3 cup of water with 2/3 cups of sugar over heat.  Once full dissolved, add the orange flower water and allow to cool.  Strain the rum and vinegar mixture into the sryup.

Cocktails?

Okay, so I’ve made my shrubb; now what?  A drink that I really like is a variant of the Culling Royale, originating out of Second Bar + Kitchen in Austin Texas.  Of course, the shrubb can also be used in punch recipes or other cocktails that call for a slightly rougher flavor than can be provided by triple sec.

1 1/2 oz Amaro
1 1/2 oz Carpano Antica Formula
1/2 oz orgeat
1/2 oz orange shrubb
1/4 oz fresh lemon juice (preferably meyer lemon)

Combine ingredients with ice and strain into a cocktail glass, garnished with a candied orange peel if you’ve got one.

Pauahi Punch

Intro

Five weeks is just about long enough to live somewhere without having to actually face the realities of living there.  Such was the case for me in Honolulu this fall.  As has been mentioned in previous blog posts, finding a good cocktail in Hawaii can be a challenge.  But such the challenge that inspired me to develop a punch that adequately exemplifies the cultural clash of the Pacific Rim.  I’d grown tired of tropical drinks and wanted something that tasted like alcohol.  The punch was developed with the help of the bartender at Doraku restaurant, which sports one of the largest Sake bars in the nation.

Very similiar to other punch recipes I’ve shared, Pau’ahi punch combines Cognac and Jamaican rum with Saké and Lychee purée.  Fresh lemon juice, orange shrubb and sugar round everything out.

Recipe

8 oz Cognac (VS is fine, even Christian Bros. Brandy will work)
8 oz Jamaican Rum (Appleton Estates or Meyers)
8 0z Junmai Saké (Hoyo Manamusume if you can find it, but Sho Chiku Bai or Hakutsuru will also work)
4 1/2 oz Orange Shurbb (see below, or use Grand Marnier)
8 oz Fresh Lemon Juice
1 Lychee Fruit (fresh, if possible, but canned also works)

Preparation

Mix ingredients in a blender with enough ice to chill the punch.  Strain out the lychee when you bottle or pour.  Yields 1 liter of punch.

To make the orange shrubb, macerate 2 oranges (sliced and cooked for at least 30 minutes in a 200º oven) in 8 ounces of Jamaican rum for 2 hours.  Add 1 cup sugar, 1 tsp orange flower water, and 4 ounces vinegar (I use Trader Joe’s Orange Muscat Champagne Vinegar).  Mix equally with 2:1 simple syrup to complete the shrubb.

Et Cetera

So, where did the name come from? After all, this is a Japanese inspired punch named after the Bernice Pauahi Bishop. It is the legacy of Mrs. Bishop that brought me to Honolulu in the first place.  I’d likely never have gone there on my own. And that would’ve been unfortunate.

Year in Review

2011 went in a very different direction from 2010.  While classics remained appreciated, punches and Tiki drinks dominated the year, making it no surprise that Licor 43 should find its way onto our shelves.  Almost like a vanilla-flavored Cointreau, this mixes nicely with rum and tequila.  Try it in a margarita or any recipe calling for triple-sec.  The recipe I found 43 to be the most successful in is the Brazilian (http://zeitguys.us/?p=70), a drink that is easy to make but combines the fruitiness of a daiquiri with the dryness and appreciation deserving of fine rum.  Jamaican rums and Sammy Hagar’s new Hawaiian rum are good substitutes for the Brazilian rum.

Although 2011 was more dominated by Tiki and punch culture, the classics could not be forgotten, especially with the recent trends of distillers to make Genever products more accessible to the common palate.  While down in Mexico this year, I picked up a 1L bottle of Genever (fairly popular in South American countries) for around $8.  I didn’t have high expectations, but it turned out to be quite good, particularly in the Jerry Thomas classic “Improved Holland Gin Cocktail.”  The new offering from Bols is aged in French Limousin oak barrels for at least 18 months, lending the spirit a pale golden color and adding complex notes of wood and spice to the herbaceous, juniper flavors of the original.  Around $50 for a full liter bottle.

The Maurin Quina bottle art is perhaps the most famous art from the liquor world.  It’s rather interesting that the art for an aperitif would feature a green devil with a bottle of absinthe.  Maurin Quina Liqueur was created in 1906 by Auguste Maurin in Le Puy, France.  It is created by macerating wild cherries, quinine and bitter almonds in fortified white wine, and then blending it with cherry brandy, lemon juice, and cherry juice.  About the same proof as vermouth, Maurin is considerably lighter, in flavor, color and viscosity.  Taste-wise, it is like a lighter bodied, less sweet version of Cherry Heering, with an incredible Cinchona bark finish. Consider trying it in the Bitter Devil (http://zeitguys.us/?p=212), a combination of Maurin Quina, Campari, and Amer Picon (which you’ll have to make yourself unless you’re in France).

If bitters and vermouths are your thing, EXR is an intriguing herbal liqueur firmly rooted in the traditions of both classic sweet vermouth and alpine digestive tonics.  Like the Maurin Quina, EXR can be substituted for sweet vermouth in a number of different drinks or simply drunk straight.  This is definitely for the bitter drinker; most of my guests who’ve tried it didn’t care for it.  It has a following very much like Campari; people tend not to be lukewarm about it.  They either love it or reject it immediately.  The Bitter Truth company is a German outfit that specializes in a number of different bitters, including being the first to bottle Jerry Thomas’ own decanter bitters.  They also make a Creole bitter (think Peychaud’s) that is outstanding.  If you want to sample their product offering, pick up the bitters traveler’s set (http://bit.ly/tHD9D0).

I mentioned earlier that 2011 was dominated by Tiki drinks and punches and perhaps the single best product for both is Clement Creole Orange Shrubb.  Made from a rum base, it has a sharper and slightly more bitter taste than a Grand Marnier, making it the ideal ingredient in a properly done Mai Tai (not the kind you get in Honolulu) or the Tacoma Tennis Club Punch (http://zeitguys.us/?p=307), which became a favorite at parties as well as for taking a to-go bottle down to the pool.  Starting with a blend of white and aged rum, the spirit is infused with bitter orange peels and Creole spices. It is macerated in oak casks, and sweetened with pure sugarcane syrup.

While in Mexico, I noticed a big change from even 5 years ago.  Tequila shops are everywhere, on every corner.  They aren’t exactly low margin places, but all prices are negotiable.  I got a tasting of this $150 bottle of Porfidio and loved it.  The Limonsin oak did wonders for the agave, but something about the bottle didn’t sit with me.  Turns out, Porfidio has one of the most unique stories in the tequila business. Its owner, Martin Grassl, doesn’t operate his own still and has a bit of history with the law.  Most of that is behind him now, and he’s started selling and importing tequila again, but he is not allowed to call his product Tequila because his operation sits outside the county lines.  He buys various tequila distilleries and you can track which distillery produced your own bottle.  He does control the aging and bottling, where apparently his cactus (WTF) in the bottle gimmick has proven quite popular.  From what I’ve read online, the Porfidio bottle to have is the one with the green lip.

Imbibe magazine published a recipe called “Stars Fell on Alabama” which is a smattering of Angostura, Peychaud’s, absinthe, and orange flower water with 2 ounces of moonshine, sweetened to taste.  I first tried the recipe with Virginia Lightning and liked it so much that I went on a hunt to find the best bang for buck white dog out there.  Prichard’s is the best, price-performance.  About $20 a bottle and smooth corn taste.  Many of the white dogs produced in the Northwest are heavily flavored and taste more like toast than corn whiskey.  Stone Barn Brandy Works, out of Portland, makes some excellent white dogs, one from rye and another from oats that work well in the Stars recipe.  I’ve heard that the real moonshine is actually better than anything commercially available, but getting one’s hands on it is challenging, what with all the legal issues surrounding it.

Perhaps my most unique find this year was the 375ml bottling of barrel 131.  Buffalo Trace is undertaking a project to produce the world’s most perfect bourbon.  Everything from what part of the tree the wood is taken to make the barrel to blends, mashes, warehouse barrel position.  Unfortunately, it’s an expensive project to participate in, at $70/bottle for a half bottle at that.  Once you register your bottle, you record your experience and tasting notes and that information is aggregated accordingly.  Buffalo Trace believes that this experiment will allow the consumer to directly compare the impact of seven different critical variables across 192 bottles for a total of 1,396 different taste combinations.  I consider myself a pretty experienced drinker, but I don’t know whether I could compare the subtleties of 1,396 different bottles.  But I was happy to participate in the little way I could.

Turning to my favorite spirit, Rye, I was quite pleased to find a bottle of Willett’s 4 year Rye sitting in the window (ugh) of Honolulu’s Liquor Collection.  I bought it anyway and what a treat.  While a little more expensive ($35-40), this is probably the best rye in its price range.  It’s been truly challenging to name the best rye, as so many different attributes make them good.  Willett falls somewhere between the crafters and the big boys: producing an excellent tasting product at a larger-scale price.  Like many of the craft offerings, this is a higher proof spirit (55%) and is a limited release.  Inviting aromas of spice, vanilla, caramel and butterscotch lead to a bold, peppery palate enhanced by hints of cinnamon, tobacco and clove.  It works well in a Sazerac.

On the other side of the country, 2011 treated us to the newest whiskey offering from Spokane’s Dry Fly.  Similar to Maker’s Mark (both a flavored by wheat versus rye) in flavor, but the wheat is far more noticeable.  I find this to be a good product, but I don’t know how well it will do with the general public.  Side-by-side comparisons with other whiskeys have resulted in a big thumbs down to Dry Fly.  I’ve told my guests that it’s actually a very good product, but wheat is a harsher flavoring ingredient.  I find this product to mix well in different kinds of punches that call for whiskey.  Often times, it can take out or balance the sweetness of a particular punch and the other spirits (typically cognac and rum) hide the full frontal wheat assault.  What I do like the most about this product is the bottle.

My most exciting find of the year has to go to Sammy’s Beach Bar Rum.  During the fall of 2011, I was fortunate to get an Exchange 2010 deployment with Kamehameha Schools in Honolulu.  Knowing I was going to be on Oahu for 4 weeks straight, I decided to break up the monotony a little and spend Thanksgiving week with the family on Maui.  I had heard that Hagar was on the island promoting his new rum, but recognizing that I don’t run in such circles, I kept it back of mind.  I head down the street to the corner store near my condo and sitting on the shelf was the last bottle of their first delivery.  This isn’t available in the other 49 until at least March.  For Washington residents, it won’t be available, except in bars, until June at the earliest.  This is great rum, in the same way his tequila is a premium drink.  Every other Hawai’ian rum is cloyingly sweet; this is more like a Jamaican or Brazilian rum, or a cross between molasses-based rum and Cachaca.

I’ve seen Casa Noble in stores and bars for many years, but never paid much attention to it.  Big mistake.  If you can have only one Tequila in your bar, this is it.  Made in the same way as the Porfidio (but without the legal troubles), this spirit has a bouquet like a fine French Cognac.  Just opening the bottle fills the immediate area with hints of chocolate; it’s incredibly aromatic.  The taste is smooth and sweet with fresh agave flavor.  Surprisingly complex hints of citrus, ginger, cinnamon, and mint emerge on the palate and then fade into a lasting, peppery finish. The Blanco makes an excellent base for cocktails, but the Reposado and Anejo should be reserved for sipping.  I also picked up a bottle of their single-barrel offering, which is nice for experiencing all the nuances of the product.  But if consistently excellent tequila is your priority, stick to the blends.

Cocktails in Paradise, Part II

A couple of months ago, I lamented some of my frustrations with visiting one of the world’s great cities, Honolulu, and coming up dry in the craft cocktail arena.  While I had enjoyed by culinary experiences at Moana Surfrider, Roy’s and Doraku restaurant, none of them offered particularly competitive cocktail menus.  In fact, I rarely ordered from the cocktail menu and often had to revert to my third or fourth choice, due to lack of ingredients.  After doing some more research, my second trip was certainly more successful, but still fell short of expectations.  My reviews are as follows.

Mai Tai Bar @ The Royal Hawaiian

Of all the places I’ve visited so far in Honolulu, the Mai Tai Bar definitely offers the best combination of setting and menu.  Staged behind the Royal Hawaiian and resting 20 feet off the public beach, the Mai Tai Bar is a great place to hide from the afternoon sun, watch the sun set, or just hang out and talk during evening hours.  While their cocktails stay true to the Hawai’ian theme they differentiate themselves from other drinking establishments by taking away the sugary edge inherent in so many of the fruity drinks.

Last Cocktail

I actually prefer this to the Mai Tai as far as pre-dinner drinks go.  Served in a cocktail glass, this is as close to classic as anything I’ve seen on the beach.  It’s still pretty darn fruity, but the pear and lemon balance each other nicely and make room for the complimentary spice.  Were all the bars in Honolulu to fall in line behind a drier, more classical signature cocktail like they have with the Mai Tai, this would be a good town to drink in.

Mai Tai

Probably the best Mai Tai I’ve ever had; not entirely sure, I’ve had some good ones with Clement Schrubb and various exotic, hard-to-find rums, but for bars, this has to be the best.  And it’s definitely the best in Honolulu.  And you can’t beat sinking your toes into the Pacific sand while you enjoy one any hour of the day.  Whereas the Rum Fire premium Mai Tai leans toward ginger to make it stand out, the Mai Tai bar seeks perfect balance, and gets it.  The classic Mai Tai works anytime of day, but preferably when the sun is still hot, but just before it sets, say 3:00 to 4:00.

Rivals

I can’t say that sports bars are my thing, especially with different colored lights bearing down on you.  But Rivals has to be the most interesting bar in Waikiki, despite it’s tiny footprint.  Three Sazeracs on the menu and none of them are authentic.  I tried the one called “Classic Recipe” which is the pretty standard rye edition with one major difference (all 3 recipes include this difference), a half shot of Carpano Antica.  My only complaint is that the vermouth (and possibly the simple syrup) made the concoction a little too sweet.  But it was nothing short of delicious and worthy of honorable mention.  Rivals is only a few months old (opened in August 2011) and sits across the street from the Courtyard Marriott on Kuhio.  In addition, they have perhaps the largest collection of Signatory bottlings I’ve ever seen in a drinking establishment.  Other than perhaps toning down the sports bar image, they could benefit from a larger menu and a considerable expansion of their base spirits. Not sure how they plan to have craft cocktails without Maraschino or Chartreuse. The third problem, and perhaps the largest, is their consistency. On two out of three occasions, I arrived to find out that they didn’t even have Peychaud bitters in stock (the grocery store across the street sells it for $7). This from a bar with 30% of their published cocktail menu is Sazeracs.

rum әɹ!ɟ

Rum Fire is located in the Sheraton hotel, just behind the Royal Hawai’ian Shopping Center.  I was reluctant to try a corporate bar, but location is everything.  And having one of Oahu’s best sunset views, I found myself there on more than one occasion.  Seating is first come first served, but reservations can be made.  Rum Fire offers a good selection of drinks and a food menu best described as heavy snacks.  The food is great for what it is, but Rum Fire is not a restaurant so entrees are not available.  It seems they’re on a ginger kick with nearly everything on the cocktail menu containing it.  But it’s better than your typical NW pizza joint where every drink has peach schnapps as its base.  Among the drinks I sampled:

Sexy Wahine
Made with Momokawa Sake, fresh muddled cucumber, lime, and Stirrings ginger liqueur, the Sexy Wahine was light, but interesting.  The way the Sake and cucumber played off each other certainly made the drink.  The ginger rounds things out a little bit, but might be slightly overdone.

Old Man’s Surf Break 
Ron Matusalem Classico Rum, Stirrings ginger, muddled orange slice and maraschino with a splash of angostura bitters makes this drink taste very similar to an old fashioned, albeit sweeter.  While a great idea for a drink, I believe this will do much better should they decide to swap out the rum with Sammy’s Beach Bar Rum.  A nice cross between Jamaican and Martinique, Sammy’s rum would actually do well with this receipe.  And it would taste considerably fresher (versus sweeter).

High-Maka Mai Tai
Second only to the Mai Tai Bar, this drink made with Ron Zacapa centenario 23 yr old rum combines falernum and ginger to produce a very good and distinct Mai Tai.  I’ve used falernum in my Mai Tais for years, but never really thought about how a ginger liqueur might benefit the ginger already in the falernum.  I find Stirring’s to be a bit too sweet, compared to Domain de Canton, but given it’s also about 75% cheaper, I under any bar’s preference towards it.

Tiki’s

I don’t think I would have ever gone to this restaurant were we not with the children.  From the street, it looks like a tacky, overdone, concept restaurant based on a Tiki theme.  And maybe it is, but I was just fooled.  But once I sat down and looked at the menu, I found myself in the Hawai’ian version of McMenamins, a simple but diverse menu of regional and classical dining.  The food menu is not pretentious, nor overly priced and nor is it superb (and nor does it need to be).  This was the only restaurant of those I visited whose cocktail menu exceeded one page and it was clear that Tiki drinks were a specialty that had some craft behind it.  Of all the places I drank, this was the only one to serve drinks in Tiki mugs (available to go, of course) and the menu read like something out of Beach Dog Barry.   The 1944 Mai Tai is on par with Rum Fire and Mai Tai bar and even features cocktail foam.  Of all the places I visited, Tiki’s had the most knowledgable waitstaff in regards to cocktails.

Doraku

Perhaps my favorite restaurant in Honolulu, Doraku is not particarly known for its cocktails as much as its sushi and Sake collection (which is one of the largest in the US).  I was treated to a few tastes of 5 different kinds of Sake and impressed by my bartender’s ability to teach Sake appreciation like I have for cocktails to so many others.  It even boasts a handful of cocktails made with Sake, my favorite being the Murasake Geisha, a chambord creation chased with Sake and finished with Gin.  Very similar to the Sexy Wahine from Rum Fire, albeit more balanced among the blackberry, gin and Sake.  Arguably, the blackberry was still a little too much for my liking, but within the range of tweakable.

Not ready to give up entirely, I made myself a fairly frequent patron of this establishment.  My final night in Honolulu, I gave the bartender a hacked together recipe of Oxford Punch and told him I wanted the Japanese version with Lychee and Sake.  (He thought in his head, “This can’t be done,” and said,) “I will have to charge you for the cognac even if you don’t like it.”  I told him I trusted him and it turns out I wasn’t lying.  He made an outstanding punch and surprised even himself.  I told him to keep the recipe, tweak it, and put it on the menu.  It was definitely the best drink I’d had in Honolulu in 7 weeks.  We tried to think of some names for it.  I wanted to credit the Japanese influence, but truth be told, it was more Jamaican and French than anything else.  My final idea was the Tsunami, as it’s strength resembled the hurricane.  We debated whether such a name was the right hat tip for the Japanese.  Anyway, if you find yourself in Doraku and want to experience this punch, the recipe is a somewhat modified version of the following: 1oz Cognac (Hennessey), 1oz Jamaican Rum (Appleton White Special Label), 1/2 oz triple sec (or grand marnier or Clement Orange Shrubb), 3/4 oz Sake Hoyo Manamusume, 1 oz fresh lemon juice, and 1/4 oz Lychee puree.  Sweeten to taste, but about 1/2 oz simple syrup does the trick for me.

Town

We stopped into town on a weekend mid-afternoon; it’s located in Honolulu’s Wailalea neighborhood, within a northern view of Diamond Head.  Town was recommended to me by two different bartenders in Waikiki as the place to go for craft cocktails.  If that is true, then craft cocktails have already lost in Honolulu.  I was deeply disappointed with the cocktail menu, featuring about 10 items, none of which challenged the palate other than maybe that of a university co-ed.  That’s not to say that these were bad lookin’ drinks; many of them were ones I would make in my own home, but certainly couldn’t part with Honolulu prices to imbibe.  I figured I’d test them well and ordered the Sazerac.  Jim Beam rye and Pernod pastis; it was okay, but didn’t leave me dying to return.  It didn’t help that the waiter took my candid feedback as an order for another round.  Who drinks 2 Sazeracs in 85 degree weather at 2:30 in the afternoon?  Well, I might succumb to two of three.  Of the bars I’ve been to in Honolulu, Town shows the most promise, but it needs to expand the cocktail menu to really distinguish itself.  It needs 20 options for those tired of beach drinks and 20 more options for those who arrived at the airport tired of beach drinks.  If Town could make those changes, I see a potential growth opportunity among the locals and business men like me.  They’ll never attract the tourists en masse, but they’re missing the only opportunity they have to attract tourists by limiting their menu options.  No one goes to town for the girls, the beach or the party.  Someone at Town needs to realize that.

Hula Grill

Upstairs from Duke’s and often overlooked (at least during my stay), the Hula Grill is the slightly upscale sister of Duke, both for cuisine and especially for cocktails.  Unfortunately, they don’t stray far from the Honolulu 8 (the eight cocktails found in every bar in Honolulu, the most dominant being the Mai Tai).  Not finding anything too interesting on the menu, I went with the Wrong Island Ice Tea, humorous on so many levels.  A nice combination of the four main ingredients in a Long Island (so many places drop the Tequila, which is unfortunate), the Wrong Island mixes in pineapple and passion where the sour and coke normally go.  It wasn’t too sweet, but it aches my heart to see such a prime piece of real estate fall so short in the cocktail menu department.  But as the bartender told me, no one oreders classic cocktails when they’re overlooking the beach.  Too bad; those tourists don’t know what they’re missing.

Il Lupino

Located in the Royal Hawaiian mall with a nice indoor/outdoor atmosphere, Il Lupino would not have attracted my attention were it not for their Carpano Antica cylinder topping their bar shelves.  I ordered a Negroni with the Carpano, excited to find it anywhere in Hawaii; I was disappointed to learn it was merely a decoration, something left from long ago when the owner got crazy one day and bought a vermouth for its packaging.  Despite it’s lack of a waterfront view, Il Lupino sports a nice atmosphere and the outdoor space is a great place to people watch.  Unfortunately, that is where it ends.  The drinks fail to impress; the wait staff (or, our waiter anyway) is rude and the food is good; but not for the price, even in Honolulu.  It’s unfortunate; this looks like a good place to just hang out after a day at work, but it’s not.  You’re much better off climbing two flights of stairs and visiting Doraku.  While Doraku doesn’t have much better in the way of cocktails, the sushi and Sake bars are among the best in the world.  And the prices are quite competitive.

Duke’s

Duke’s is a tough one; it feels like a meat market, but with less hamburger and more cheeks.  Unfortunately, the drinks are fast poured, overly sweet, and not particularly pleasant.  But as far as atmosphere goes, it doesn’t get much better.  There’s a certainly vivacity at Duke’s that works for nearly every age group.  And the food is decent; not great, but not overpriced either, given their slice of real estate.  I reluctantly ordered the Mai Tai, asked for them to dry it down a lot, and it was still too sweet and bland.  I think these guys could benefit from developing a Waikiki punch; something that contains a little pineapple and lemon juice, but still tastes predominantely like brandy and rum (and maybe a little Bourbon).  Or they could pick up a copy of any of Beach Dog Barry’s Tiki books and really focus on making a premium beach drink.

Tacoma Tennis Club Punch

Intro

I can’t pretend to speak for the club.  I’ve never run for the board; I am not even a full tennis member.  And from what I’ve seen of the membership, no one even likes punch; maybe the occasional vodka drink or Margarita, but certainly nothing that resembles 19th century England.  But I named this punch for the time spent by the pool, watching my youngest daughter go from no-face-in-the-water to swimming the pool’s length after a diving board plunge within a mere 6 weeks.  For this was the punch, based moderately on the Oxford Punch in David Wondrich’s new book, that we bottled and hauled and shared with the willing.  It went through multiple iterations, starting really with a desire to get something more from the Mississippi Punch, but guided by the notion of mixing in wine as an accent flavor.  If wine was good, why not port?  But it was really the fortune of discovering New Zealand grows Meyer Lemons that allowed the Tacoma Tennis Club Punch to accelerate our adoption.  Else we might never have tried it, as this punch is definitely meant for summer.  Not that I won’t try it in December when the Meyers return…

IngredientsTLTC Punch Flavor Wheel

6 sugar cubes
Peels from 3 Meyer Lemons
~10-15 Cardamom Seeds (1 pinch)
6 oz Juice from a Meyer Lemon
5 oz Otima 10 Year Tawny Port
7 oz Cognac
7 oz Jamaican Rum (Meyer’s)
5 oz Grand Marnier
2 oz Clement Orange Shrubb
1/2 oz Capillaire

Brand names mentioned aren’t required, but included for an exact reproduction.  If Meyer lemons aren’t available (and they typically aren’t), 4 oz of lemon juice with 2 oz of fresh orange will make a reasonable substitute.  Yeilds 1 liter.

Preparation

Prepare an oleo saccharum using 6 rough-cut sugar cubes (La Perruche is a good brand), the lemon peels, and cardamom seeds.  Add other ingredients in order listed.  When enough liquid is accumulated in the mixer, pour into a blender and continue adding ingredients.  Leave one strip of peel in the blender while lightly blending with a few ice cubes until chilled/diluted.  Strain while pouring into bottle or bowl to catch any peels/seeds.

Good drinks in paradise?

My travels have found me in a tropical paradise, where sugar-based drinks seem plentiful but cocktails are foreign.  Perhaps heat and cocktails really don’t mesh well, as frozen daiquiris, mai tais, and margaritas seem to blanket the first 22.5° of either side of our equator.  That is certainly understandable; a blistering sun empowers the dry martini against us and little can be done to dilute its effects without ruining the drink.  But even in tropical climates, the sun goes down and the temperatures fall to a comfortable level that impress upon the diner a need to accompany his fancy cuisine with the proper spirits.

And when that happens, even the finest and most expensive of restaurants can fail to deliver.  I am talking specifically of the Beachhouse at the Moana Surfrider resort in Waikiki, but I could be talking about any fancy steak restaurant or any tropical fine dining establishment that sits somewhere between the indoors and out; any restaurant willing to lay down hardwood floors in an otherwise exterior application.  The Beachhouse reminds me of where F. Scott Fitzgeral must’ve sat when he wrote (or at least conjured) The Great Gatsby.  The u-shaped building that opens to a courtyard of tile and wood juxtaposed against dirt, grass, banyan trees and sand, is completed with a pool, bar, and variety of seating options.  The sun sets consistently at 6:20, regardless of the time of year; it is the perfect combination of nature and man; nature versus man.  And right in the middle of it all rests a beautiful bar, fit for the most appreciative drinkers among us, but relegated to tourists and the unappreciative masses, happy with mix-made, blended concoctions; considerably overpriced.

The menu at the Beachhouse is superb, but the waiter who could tell me anything I needed to know about the steak and lobster I was ordering had never heard of a Negroni.  I didn’t even bother to mention the Sazerac, which is really what I wanted to prep my palate for what would become a muti-hour meal.  Throughout it, I struggled to understand why a place that took so much care in its food menu could be so derelict with its bar menu.  Fifteen drinks that feature different flavors of vodka, rum, or tropical fruit might seem like a lot of variety to 90% of the population, but shouldn’t we treat their ignorance the same way we do with wine?  Why should a steakhouse offer four different wines to complement four courses of an expensive and sophisticated meal, but then limit their cocktail offerings to pineapple juice, vodka and and artificial colors?

Maybe this is part of the frustration of “the bleeding edge” (in its tenth or fifteenth year now) of the cocktail revolution.  While down from years’ past, beer still represents more than 50% of the drinking populations go-to beverage.  But as I look around the Beachhouse in Waikiki, I see no one drinking beer as the sun sets.  A few are drinking wine, but the vast majority are choosing from their limited options of flavorless spirits and tropical juices.  As one with a sweet tooth myself, I cannot hold too many grudges againt my fellow patrons, but has no one the audicity to demand something more of the restuarants they’re paying more than $100/person to enjoy?

Drinking could not be more enjoyable than as an accompanyment to a Hawai’ian sunset in a beautifully architected open-air building.   Consider my unordered sazerac; the smell of lemon and absinthe rising up from the glass, the liquid the same colour as the sky above.  Still warm, the air is cooling and the palate is no longer fatigued or demanding a shaved-ice concoction, but instead ready for something powerful to prep it for the filet or mahi that follows sundown.

In spite of his unfamiliarity with the Negroni, the waiter happily took my order and promptly delivered one as good as any I’ve had.  But I left the restaurant short of 100% satisfaction, mostly just frustrated because I know that mine is the minority report.  We’re at a turning point in our tulmultuous history of attitudes about liquor.  Those restaurants that step forward and grant the cocktail the same favor and customer education process as they have for wine will command the respect of the educated and earn the novelty of the masses.