In Which The Smarter Among Us Figures Out What We Drank

(In other words, not me.) We tried this drink called the Perique Swizzle at this cocktail place nearby which was interesting and good (interesting *and* good is always good), then tried to replicate it at home: two ounces rum, 1.5 ounce mezcal, .5 ounce falernum, .5 ounce amaro (they used sfumato rabarbaro; we tried both cynar and amaro ciociaro, the latter being better), a pinch of salt and some crushed mint leaves. As the name evokes, the original was a variation on a swizzle, which is Caribbean using rum, falernum and juices. Go easy on the salt: the bartender at the Last Word called it a “salt brine” and indeed there’s a thin line between delicate oyster liquor and a snoutful of Labor Day surf.

File Under: Stuff With Gin, Limes, Rum And Crème De Cassis

Latest cocktails tried . . .

Solomon Sling (Mr. Boston, page 95): six parts gin, three parts lemon juice, two parts simple syrup, two parts Kirschwasser, one part Cherry Heering, one dash Angostura bitters. Good.

Angel’s Share (Mr. Boston, page 171): six parts bourbon, two parts Amaro, one part crème de cassis, one dash orange bitters. Overlooked this recipe in the book for a while because I don’t know why. We used Amaro CioCiaro and this old cassis sort of forgotten in the liquor cabinet. This was good, too; worth returning to.

Junior (PDT, page 154): eight parts rye, three parts lime juice, two parts Benedictine, two dashes Angostura bitters. We had a bunch of limes in the fridge so I put them to use. Was OK, if memory serves.

Romeo y Julieta (PDT, page 228): eight parts rum, two parts sweet vermouth, two parts Campari. Like a Left Hand but with more rum. Definitely didn’t add the four spritzes of diluted Aftel Tobacco Essence, though, so who knows.

Like Fucking Robert Palmer Or Something

Jen’s been on a rum kick — last night we didn’t have cocktails at the Tiki-themed Chinese restaurant, so we resolved to have them at home. Now I don’t know the first thing about festive tikiness, and I much prefer the tang of bourbon to the treacle of rum, but I’m assuming I just haven’t had the right cocktail. Last night it was the time capsule cocktail the Unisphere. Not very tiki. Tonight it was the Irresistible (Mr. Boston, page 117): Six parts white rum (I was told this rum was probably not white), two parts sweet vermouth, one part Benedictine and one part lemon juice. It was complex tasting — the secondary ingredients melted into each other in a pleasant way.

As sweet as this tasted, it was surprising there wasn’t any sugar. Must be the the rum. I mean, I guess? I’m determined to make a month’s worth of rum cocktails, just as a challenge.