EMBURY COCKTAILS

Key West Literary Seminar 2013, Graham Greene Cocktails & Aunt Augusta

I've been doing cocktails for the Key West Literary Seminar for the past couple years and this time around I, in an outrageously audacious move,  decided to create a series of cocktails for the event's nightly parties inspired by the works of Graham Greene. Travel writer & essayist Pico Iyer's meditation on his internal relationship with Greene through his work, "The Man Inside My Head", has been an important touchtstone at this year's Seminar, the theme of which is "Writers On Writers". Iyer himself attended and spoke eloquently about the book and Greene.

It had been when I'd found out the Iyer would be attending that the idea first took hold, as I'm a huge Greene fan myself. Knowing this project would be a big undertaking I recruited Sean Hoard of Teardop Lounge in Portland, Oregon to develop Greene-tails with me, and we've been corresponding and tweaking recipes and concepts for months. Hoard joined me here in Key West this week where we've been serving cocktails for the 300 plus authors and serious readers nightly all week.

Greene was a commited drinker, and drinking is a common activity in his books, as is travel, and many are set in exotic locations, so finding national spirits or local culinary cues to look to for inspiration in his work wasn't hard. And some characters suggest drinks quite easily in your imagination. The iconoclastic eccentric grandmother-aged Augusta in "Travels with my Aunt" powers through quite a lot of champagne on trains and at various bars around Europe, so I'd thought of a champagne cocktail with a little punch as an homage to her libertine spirit, something a bit saucy. When I discovered that KWLS Lighting Director Jolly Benson had a calamondin tree in his front yard, and more significatnly that his chef mother Sarah had made an amazing marmalade with it, it all sort of wrote itself from there. The citrus' bitter-but-invigorating rind and pith was definitely saucy, and its brilliant orange actually matches Maggie Smith's flame red hair in George Cukor's film adaptation quite closely. (Smith, below, in a still from the film, looking her actual age for a flashback. Her Aunt Augusta is interesting, but Katherine Hepburn, who was originally slated to do the part and was closer to the character's age, and temperment, may have been a better choice. Still, Smith does look fantastic here.)

I mixed the marmalade with Beefeater 24, selected for its elegant, astringent notes culled  from its grapefruit and Chinese green and Japanese Sencha tea botanicals, a little honey syrup (1:1) and lemon, shook it all up vigorously & strained into a flute, topped it with champagne, expressing a lemon twist over the top and discarding. I used about 1 oz of the stock in the early versions at the opening night party, but as the evening went on I thought that more of the gin and citrus stock would make everyone ever merrier and I started pouring around 1.5-1.75 oz. Even later I began scopping a small bit if the marmalade into the flute before building the drink, with the benefits of that  flash of orange at the bottom of the transclucent, almost mother of pearl colored finished drink, as well as a little hit of the bite-y marmalade.

 

AUNT AUGUSTA

STOCK:

1 part Beefeater 24

1/2 part calamondin marmalade

1/2 part lemon juice

1/4 part honey syrup (1:1)

1/8 part Aperol

Combine all elements, stir extremely well. Shake to order and pour into a flute (to taste), top up with sparkling wine. But not before adding a dollop of the calamondin marmalade into the bottom of the flute. Lemon zest and discard. 

SARAH BENSON'S CALAMONDIN MARMALADE

Wash, cut in half, seed, and purée In a food processor enough calamondins to measure 2 cups - The skin should be in 1/4 inch pieces
1 cup orange juice
3 cups sugar
In a stainless steel pan bring the juice and Calomondin purée to a boil. Stir in the sugar. Cook the mixture over a medium-high heat at a steady boil for 15 minutes stirring several times.

Spoon the marmalade into clean jars, let it cool and keep refrigerated.

Fantastic stuff, integral for our Aunt Augusta but also brilliant on some toast.

More cocktails to come this week from me and Mr. Hoard, including The Third Man, The Power & The Glory, The Hotel Continental, The Whisky Priest, The Pennyfeather, The End of the Affair & The Loud American.

Wednesday's Cocktail: The Ghost Of Christmas Past....

This louche riff on a French 75 comes from DJ and Beefeater and Plymouth's man about town Nick Van Tiel. It's a bit flash with the Be24 and the P.J., but it is the holidays after all, and one ought to treat one's guests to something special. And oneself. The honey syrup is simply 3 parts honey to one part water--Nick pours the honey in a mixing tin, adds the water  and shakes vigorously---cold  water is fine when you shake honey, it blends up nicely, something I didn't know. The Angostura pulls it back from the cusp of too-sweet, or too-tart. If you make several at once, which is only natural with champagne cocktails, this is actually a rather simple recipe--as simple as Nick's crisp handwriting on the page of my notebook. I could drink these until New Year's Eve.

The Feminine Sabrage Mystique

We've noted the current female affection for sabrage amongst the bartending world before.  And we're quite fond of  the micro trend. There's something about a woman wielding a long knife, sabre or sword to open a bottle of champagne  that's rather cinematic, and a little mesmerizing. Witnesses tend to fall mute when it's happening, charmed by the sight. 

Below, 3 videos that break down how and why this startling bottle opening technique works, and how to do it, and with verve. First up is definitely Sven Almenning from Eau de Vie, who, while cleary not female, does refer to the viewer as "kittens." Next are 2 videos of Lauren Kincheloe of Bar Marmont, and a frequent Embury collaborator. In the first clip she explains to a slightly dumbstruck young friend how the science works, and in the second she demonstrates. In a hot tub, in a bikini. Just in case you weren't paying attention already. [Second 2 videos seem to not be showing up on some browsers due to some glitch, try reloading a couple times but if that doesn't work check them out on YouTube. Kincheloe 1, Kincheloe 2.]

Rhubarb Bellini: Martha's Vineyard Edition

Photos: Sharon McGauley

The trans-hemispheric quest to create a rhubarb bellini came to fruition on a recent afternoon in Martha's Vineyard, with a crystal blue sky and brilliant sunlight and an wedding by the sea. Discussions about and experimentation with the mythical bellini had taken place in Los Angeles and Brooklyn, then continued in Melbourne, carried on through Sydney, were picked up again back to New York and ultimately crescendoed on Chappaquidick. The version that coalesced that day was a bit different from what I'd imagined it would be a week prior, when I was across the international date line on the other side of the equator. Some brilliant scheming in Australia went a bit awry and never quite came to fruition in time for the wedding--as Joni Mitchell might say, 'things conspired.' But to paraphrase Julia Childs: you'll never be a great chef if you always follow the recipe. In the end working with available elements yielded charming bellinis that refreshed wedding guests parched from the intense rays of the sun with a a welcome sweetness. (The heat and the vivid sun were elements that we may have not considered on that rainy evening in autumnal Melbourne.)  Below is the recipe I landed on that afternoon, and in the second half of the post some of the twists and turns that led to this iteration, for those who are interested in such cocktail questing. And while all the other variations certainly had their virtues, this one that came to be on the day that my longtime friends were getting married seems to have been exactly what was supposed to have been  all along.

RHUBARB BELLINI, MARTHA'S VINEYARD EDITION

1 cube demerrara sugar
3 dashes Peychaud's bitters
3 dashes Regan's Orange Bitters #6
3 dashes Fee Bros. Rhubarb Bitters
1/4 oz. fresh orange juice
1/4 oz. fresh lemon juice

Drop the demerarra cube into a tall flute, douse with all the above bitters. Add orange and lemon juice and fill-carefully, as it will be extra bubbly when it comes into contact with the sugar and the citrus-with champagne. Add a substantial orange twist, and one final dash of Fee Bros. Rhubarb Bitters on top for the nose.

Friday Night Cocktail: Cucumber Champagne Cocktail: Version Two

 

The pressure was one to come up with a well-rounded, handsome riff on the work-in-progress cucumber & champagne cocktail, as some friends who are getting married at the Metropolitan Club in May were stopping by to talk about ideas for their signature cocktail. I served up a couple new iterations that I'd come up with, and the first one we tasted was the winner.  It does require sourcing fresh cucumber juice (which I just get at a juice bar near my apartment), Bottle Green Elderflower Cordial and Regan's Orange Bitters No. 6, which you should have already. Both cordial and bitters are available at Kalustyan's, and they do shipping. But once you've got all that it's rather easy to make, fresh and Spring-y, a bit flash, which if fun at a fancy wedding, and quite, quite irresistible.

As Yet Unnamed Champagne Cocktail:

1.25 oz. Hendrick's Gin
3/4 oz. Green Bottle Elderflower Cordial*
Juice of 1/2 medium lime (about 3/4 oz)
Tablespoon of cucumber juice, with foam

Build the above in a flute, but  start with the orange zest garnish in the empty glass--essentially it's a long, very narrow strip of orange zest that snakes around the inside of the glass about 3 times--it's an exaggerated Horse's Neck twist. Top off with champagne leaving room for about 1/2 Tablespoon of cucumber juice with foam. Top with generous dash of Regan's Orange Bitters No. 6. (Again, Kalustyan's)

*Dilute the Cordial by cutting it in half-1:1.

Embury Events at The New Traditionalists

 

Embury did our first proper cocktail catering this week for an event in the showroom of The New Traditionalists, makers of classically inspired, environmentally sound furniture. The crowd was a lively mix up uptown and downtown, the showroom was a great setting for a party and the drinks, if I do say so myself, were smashing.

 

We made 3 large batches of some of our favorite cocktails, all of which proved to be highly effective in punch form. We poured the punches over ice and added garnishes with each serving.

NEW LONDON PUNCH (from the mind of Naren Young)

5 parts Beefeater 24 
1 part St Germain 
1 part Maraschino 
5 parts Chilled Green Tea 
1 part Lime Juice 
5 parts Proseco

Add ingredients to Punch Bowl with Ice Block, stir well, serve on the rocks, dropping a blackberry in the glass as a garnish.

PETER PAN PUNCH (All credit to a pre-Hendrick's Jim Ryan)

1 1/2 part Basil Hayden's Bourbon
1/2 part Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur
1/2 part Lemon juice
1/2 part. Simple syrup
Middle of 1 Pixie Mandarin (I per serving)

In a bowl, muddle Mandarin sections and add Luxardo, lemon juice, simple syrup and Basil Hayden's. Stir well, add a large block of ice and pour into a rocks glass--garnish with a good cherry, in syrup.

IN ANOTHER TIME (An Embury orginal)

2 parts Basil Hayden's Bourbon
1 part fresh grapefruit juice
1/2 part ginger simple syrup (instructions here)

Pour into punch bowl, add ice block, stir. Pour over ice, top with a fanned green apple resting on top of the rocks.

I served some impromptu cocktails from the New Traditionalist's highly desirable Bar Cart no. One., a great piece that stands at the exact proper height for building drinks. More about that bar cart to come.

Key West Postcards: The French Poodle

After brunch with a couple rounds of mimosas, and Bottle Number One of decent commercial Chateau St. Michele champagne back home between four of us, Bottle Number Two of the same was looking only moderately exciting. We were all gathered on the front porch of Chris and Erin of Bad Boy Burrito, the late afternoon sun was low and hot and we were all a little dopey. Erin walked inside and returned with a large slice of organic pink grapefruit which she squeezed directly into her almost-full flute. We tried and asked for the same treatment: The French Poodle wipes away the thick coat that decent mimosas and just-okay champagne can leave in your mouth and in your head, and it clears the palette with grapefruit's astringent pop. The complex sweet-and-sourness of the tangy fresh fruit compensates for the merely acceptable sugar of the champagne, and makes drinking it a pleasure again, as well almost feeling like it's good for you. The name's a riff on The Salty Dog, and it's perfect for helping extend a lazy Sunday afternoon in the sub-tropic heat and light. J.R.

THE FRENCH POODLE

Champagne, most any quality
Fresh organic Grapefruit.

Squeeze grapefruit into flute glass of very chilled champagne. Chunks of fruit are good..

J.R.

Friday Night Cocktail: The Waterloo Sunset

 Gentleman Dan Warner, brand ambassador for Beefeater Gin, was kind enough to share his recipe for  The Land Of The Rising Snapper with me. As I was trying to think of a really home-run Friday Night Cocktail (a new trial feature), something Dan came up with a few years ago came to mind. He made it for myself and several other jet-lagged, hungover journalists at the Beefeater distillery in London, in their industrial-but-bespoke cocktail lounge. Flawless. Put everything right.  The drink is visually irresistible, even to a cynic, and the combination of gin, champagne and elderflower cordial is delightful, disarming and quite, quite potent. Fine way to start a weekend.

Dan calls for Elderflower Cordial, something not widely available in the States--but it can be ordered here.

JR

THE WATERLOO SUNSET

15ml Beefeater
10ml Elderflower Cordial
100ml Champagne
5ml Raspberry Liqueur

Method:
Stir with ice and strain into a Champagne flute
Float Champagne on top
Drop raspberry liqueur into glass so it floats on Beefeater/Elderflower layer

Garnish: Speared raspberry

The Lord Ottenbottom welcomes The Carte Blanche to the Thanksgiving Cocktail Toolshed

 
Year two of cocktail toolshed in Key West for the annual potluck at my family's house. Last year saw the debut of the Lord Ottenbottom (see previous post here) as I requisitioned my dad's toolshed for a bar. This year I decided to add The Carte Blanche, a seriously refreshing mix of Hendrick's gin, fresh cucumber juice, lime juice, sparkling brut and orange bitters.  I'd gotten the recipe from Jim Ryan, Brand Ambassador for Hendrick's--the original recipe was for a single cocktail, a shaken affair, but given that I was planning on serving up a few dozen of these I decided to go with the punchbowl approach. It's not an exact science, but after experimenting with single drinks the night before my friend Rob and I felt we had the gist of it down and freehanded the mixture, adjusting to taste. This is one that almost works better as a punch, actually, so if you're serving a large group I'd recommend making some according to the recipe beforehand to get to know the taste, and then going freehand on the day.

The Carte Blanche:

1 1/2 oz. Hendrick's Gin

3/4 oz. Lime juice

1/2-3/4 oz. Simple syrup

3 Cucumber wheels

2 dashes Regan's Orange Bitters #6

Brut sparkling wine (Jim prefers Cava, as we were doing Ottenbottoms already we used a dry proseco with no ill effect)

In a mixing glass place 2 cucumber slices, lime juice, simple syrup and orange bitters and muddle well. Add Hendrick's Gin and ice and shake. Strain into a cocktail glass and top with sparkling wine, garnishing with the third cucumber wheel. Serve.

We varied this a bit for the punch, the main difference being that I peeled and juiced about 30 cucumbers, much more efficient for bigger batches--it takes a while but it's well worth it when it comes to the party. Rob theorized that if you started with the gin in the bowl and then added the cucumber first, rather than the lime, it seemed to disperse that nice floral flavor of the cucumber more throroughly, making it more likely that that note would come through more in each batch than the lime. The limes we had were super tart as well, which meant we went easy on that. So after some experimentation our building sequence went: Hendrick's, cucumber juice, lime juice, simple syrup, proseco and then a few slugs of orange bitters on top--again, all to taste. The Carte Blanche was a big hit--it's a surprising combination of elements (I'm sure it was the first time many guests had experienced the fruit/vegetable cucumber in a cocktail) and extremely refreshing, getting the party kicked into gear in the most pleasant way.  One of the secrets to good hosting is finding ways to bypass the awkward initial phase of the party where guests don't quite know what to do or how to be--the Carte Blanche neatly addresses all concerns, giving them a lively, fast-acting cocktail that gives them something in common to discuss while immediately giving a little mood boost-and I'm convinced all the cucumber makes this drink good for you. One thing to note: cucumbers should be peeled for this, as the skins can add an unwelcome bitterness. This includes juicing at ton of 'em, as I did Thanksgiving morning--you'll have to clear about an hour for that project, but it's worth it.

 

THE DEBUT OF LORD OTTENBOTTOM

I was in Key West for the annual Rowan family and friends Thanksgiving potluck. I'd actually intended to leave a few days before the big day but the work I was down for stretched on a little, and after a week of  everyone saying, “you have to stay for Thanksgiving.” I caved.  The contrarian in me wanted to resist, but the timing sort of worked itself out and there I was.

The back of my folk's house is set up like an open-air pavilion, a large living platform surrounded by a dense wild garden that my mother keeps watered and even occasionally pruned. Every year a broad cross section of people come for Thanksgiving, pulled in from my family's various worlds'-sailors, architects, artists, and  perhaps most relevant to the occasion, chefs. Married friends and surrogate cousins Chris and Erin have been longstanding mainstays-Erin handles some of the set dressing and Chris-well, Chris cooks. A lot. He's the chef at a restaurant called 915, and each year the bounty of roasted root vegetables and mole sauce and turkeys in big pans gets more and more over the top. Other chefs come too, and it's become a bit of a cook-off, with some dazzling results. But everyone has specialties—a lot of organic types in the mix who bust out some crazy mushroom pilaf types of dishes, and this year there was a particular emphasis on pies. And Argentinian Ernesto always makes these crazy empanadas. There were about 50 people this year, with a pulse of the under thirty set as my two youngest brothers were in town and had invited a lot of their friends. A fun crowd, and big drinkers. It is, after all, Key West.

In the past I've made some kind of showy  salad for my contribution—moscatel vinegar, olive oil, arugula and citrus one year, or parsley, romaine , garlic and dijon another, but my salad making skills seem to have waned in recent years-around the time that I started getting paid to write, which makes me think talent (at least mine) isn't an endlessly renewable resource. There are only so many things I can do well, or even competently, at one time, and salad making fell behind. Plus I was reticent to even throw my hat in the ring with these pros. I'd just done a champagne story for OUT and had researched (by which I mean tried) quite a few champagne cocktails while working on the story, often under the capable hands of Jim Ryan. He'd given me a couple recipes that I'd used in the article, and a few more that got cut for space. Chris, Erin and I decided to try some out the night before.

I'd wanted to make the bourbon and champagne number The Seelbach, but my efforts to find a bottle of Basil Hayden's in Key West were seriously thwarted. I got some funny looks from some liquor store proprietors, as though I was some highfalutin' city slicker asking for the most obscure caviar in a fish 'n' chips joint. When I asked for St Germain they really rolled their eyes;  the fashionable liquer hasn't made it this far south, and my aspirations to do La Bicyclette were dashed. "Damn,” I said as we walked out of the third place empty-handed, “I'm getting tired of being treated like I'm Lord Autumnbottom,”, a phrase that I've heard applied to someone putting on airs. Eventually we settled on Makers and a case of Proseco and as the sun set we headed back to the little house I was staying in, a sweet place tucked away from the road with an excellent front porch that seats 3.

Fortunately I had been able to turn up both Peychaud's bitters and Orange bitters  at the Restaurant Store and had grabbed some Angostura bitters at the grocery store. Some  Turbanado sugar cubes too. I dropped nine bottles at my parent's, pulled three and we headed over to my place to try out some mixtures. Chris was immediately fascinated by the Peychaud's--”Fennel and Allspice,” he thought. Of course, the mysterious ingredients of bitters (labeled only 'herbs and spices') lends itself to such flexing of the taste muscles. While  the classic-with sugar cube and Angostura-was friendly, Chris immediately fixed on a combo of orange and Peychaude's—we arrived at 7 dashes of each, soaking the cube, topping with Proseco and a long orange twist. Sweet start, dry finish, flavor duality: “Lord Ottenbottom,” Chris dubbed it, a  malapropism of my Autumnbottom crack and his own last name, Otten. While I did make one or two trial Seelbachs we deemed them a little too dangerous for pre-feast, but we polished off the rest of wine in Ottenbottom form while listening to the new Radiohead, leaving us high and happy. We called it a night early as we had a big day the next day, although we all reported waking up in the middle of the night quite, quite awake-something about all the sugar and perhaps also the power of bitters.

The next morning rolled around and we all felt pretty good. I'd hit on the idea of using my dad's tool shed for the champagne cocktail station. Guests would pass it on the way into the backyard and I could offer them my oh-so-soignee cocktails, dazzling with my big city sophistication. So maybe the liquor store owner was right about me-I was being a bit of a ponce. It was still fun. By one p.m. I had rows of champagne glasses with sugar cubes in them lined up next to an array of bitters, drill bits and caulk, ready to be transformed into liquid gold.

The plan worked, a bit too well, perhaps. The pre-feast section of the day runs from one one til around three, when the food table is opened, and I'd planned to shut the champagne shack down at  that point. I'd also imagined that people would just have one, possibly two cocktails and move on to  wine. No dice.  As people showed up I caught them with Lord Ottenbottoms and they were a big hit-the setting of the too shed was just too good. People would take the drinks, mingle, and then come back for more, again and again. I had to send out for, in the end, six more bottles of Proseco, and other guests had brought them as well, so all in all we went though a couple cases. I was in a flurry of bitters-tossing for a little too long, however—by the time supper rolled around I really didn't feel like eating-although I did, and it was all amazing. But intensive cocktail preparation for two or three hours can put you off your food a bit. Next time I'll prep a little more thoroughly—I'll have to try to pre-soak the cubes next time, or recruit a co-barkeep. That shed was jumping.

After dinner we whipped up some Seelbachs; Maker's Mark packs more punch than Basil Hayden--I missed the delicate, fragrant BH--but it did the trick. That euphoria that the champagne cocktail produces washed over everyone-the party moved to the street, Little brother Ian busted out the gorilla suit after dark, the party moved to the street where the younger set smoked and drank until 1:30, a record for Rowan Thanksgivings. Quite exhausted the next day, but as Bill Murray said about the product he was hocking in 'Lost In Translation', “The good news is, the scotch works.” The Lord Ottenbottom most definitely works. But whether it's the sugar or the bubbles or the bitters—it's potent, and perhaps more of  a New Years selection than a Thanksgiving one.

Lisa's dad Dom came to dinner; he'd been an entertainer at Catskills resorts, and he wandered around the party noodling on his clarinet, which was awesome. He played 'The Night They Invented Champagne' when he saw my setup in the shed.

You could serve right through the window of the toolshed.

 

The Lord Ottenbottoms helped with the very merry mood--the more, the merrier, too .

Ma Rowan dishing up. The amount and quality of the food was absurd.

Erin and the man who put the Otten in Lord Ottenbottom, Chris. Otten.

The kids table, with the biggest kid of all Pa Rowan at the head.

Esme-and yes, she will nod and smile politely if you say, "As in 'For Esme, With Love And Squalor'?", which is good news for the Salinger-knowledge dropping crowd.

Our boy Cheech, fresh back from Iraq and out of the Air Force for good. I hadn't seen him since he joined up five years ago, so having him there, safe and sound, was truly something to be thankful for.

And the party spills out into the street, to the neighbor's horror. Imagine how they felt at 1:30 a.m.

Why leave? Everything-and everyone-you could want was right there.

When the gorilla suit comes out, the civilized part of the evening is over.

THE RECIPES

A special thanks to Jim Ryan from Dressler for his help on my OUT champagne cocktail story, and by extension my Thanksgiving.

LORD OTTENBOTTEM

In a tall flute, drop

1 Turbanado Sugar Cube
7 dashes of Peychaude's Bitters
7 dashes of Fee Brothers' Orange Bitters

Soak the sugar cube with bitters, the top slowly with sparkling wine-Proseco or Cava are both good choices. A long orange twist sets it off nicely-twist it over the flute before you drop it in. 7 dashes of Peychaude's may be a lot for some tastes-try 4 or 5 to start. But there should be a dynamic balance between the sweetness of  Orange and the mysterious bitter-ness of Peychaude's.

LA BICYCLETTE

Even though we failed to make this one it's so lovely and light.

1.5 oz st germain elderflower liqueur
1/2 oz lemon juice

Combine above in a flute; top with brut sparkling wine. Garnish with a sprayed lemon peel, but discard the peel before you serve.

PIMM'S ROYALE

I was set up to do this one, but somehow it never happened-I think I lost the cucumber.

A splash of Pimm's Cup
Top with sparkling wine
Garnish with a fresh cucumber spear.

THE SEELBACH

Not to be consumed on an empty stomach (as in: not before lunch, or Thanksgiving dinner)

In a champagne flute add
One sugar cube
Seven dashes each on Peychaud's and Angostura bitters
1/2 oz Cointreau
1-1/5 oz Basil Hayden's Bourbon
Top with sparkling wine
Add an orange peel if necessary (and if you have to sub Makers as I did it will definitely be necessary-you'll need the citrus and the zest-plus it looks lovely.)