The Mojito

July 17, 2009

The mojito, over the last few years, has erupted into the cocktail world as if there was no tomorrow. Rising rapidly to its current status as the most popular, and frequently ordered, drink across the world. Even spawing an alcopop in its namesake, upsetting.

You would struggle to find a bartender out there these days who doesn’t know how to make a, at least acceptable, mojito. However the history and tales behind its origins vary dependent on where you look, and few seem to have much of a clear view on where this drink came from.

One of the most popularised beliefs is that, whilst the drink only officially emerged in the late 1930’s, the drink has its origins in a concoction crafted by Sir Richard Drake. A famous British pirate in the 1500’s, he was supposed to have used mint, lime, and sugar frequently to mask the aguardiente’s (an unrefined predecessor to the modern day rum) sheer rawness. The drink was named El Draque after him, and after starting his base of operations in Cuba, logic follows that this started the beginnings of the drink. With high quality rums beginning to arrive upon the scene, the unrefined aguardiente was switched out in favour of the less harsh newer rums.

The El Draque is found mentioned in Cuban literature as far back as 1838, described as a daily medicinal aid for bodily wellbeing.

The basic build for a mojito is pretty much indisputable, rum, mint, lime, and sugar, however every bartender has their own small variations.

The below is my preferred build:

50ml Golden Rum
6-8 Lime Slices
8 Mint Leaves
2 Teaspoons sugar
10ml Ginger Beer

Add the lime to the base of a tall glass, then add the sugar and muddle down to create a paste. Add the mint, after briefly slapping it, to the glass and gently bruise it with a muddler. Then add the rum and fill the glass with crushed ice. Churn the mixture to spread ingredients evenly, and also to dilute. Then add the ginger beer and churn once more. Create a snow cone of ice on top and garnish with a lime slice and a mint sprig.


In quite sharp contrast to the vast majority of older cocktails out there, the SIngapore Sling has a vast plethora of various bits and pieces of history and recipes attached to it. Unfortunately however, this is less than a blessing.

It’s proverbial soaking in varied historical notes does nothing to help in obtaining a proven history behind it, as alas they nearly all contradict each other in some manner.

What is accepted across the board however is that it was invented by Ngiam Tong Boon at the Long Bar, of the Raffles Hotel in Singapore, at some point between 1900 and 1915. And that its original recipe included the, still utilised, ingredients of gin, cherry brandy, and benedictine. Probably originally all in equal parts.

Whilst the Long Bar continues to this day to produce pre-mixed singapore slings, they have admitted openly to the fact that the original recipe was in fact lost somewhere in the middle of the 20th century, and that the modern day recipe was pulled together by Ngiamo Tong’s nephew in the 1970’s.

Despite its current namesake, it is also widely accepted that it was either originally called the Strait’s Sling, or that it is very closely based upon it.

Other varied bits and pieces of history are found all over the web, one especially good bit of research is found here. A particular favourite fact about the drink is its availability for free on all classes of the SIngapore Airways flight.

My personal recipe is a combination of a few of my prefered modern day variations found about the place. Balancing the gin with the herbal benedictine, and the sweetness of the cherry brandy with the tartness of cointreau and pineapple.

37.5ml Gin
12.5ml Cherry Brandy
10ml Cointreau
10ml Benedictine
80ml Pineapple
7.5ml Fresh Lime Juice
Dash Grenadine
Dash Soda water

Shake all but the grenadine and soda and single strain over ice in a a hurricane glass. Add the pineapple and soda to taste, before adding a dash of grenadine to sink to the base of the glass. Garnish with a pineapple chunk, a cherry, and a mint sprig.

The Sazerac is pretty widely accepted as one the oldest cocktails out there. Most certainly one of the oldest to be found popularised in the US.

Its name originating in 1859 in New Orleans, in John Schiller’s coffee house “The Sazerac Coffee House”, its recipe is still, after some tweaking, in usage around the world. However the recipe behind it is found as early as 1830, crafted by Antoine Amédée Peychaud, for usage with his namesake bitters.

During Absinthe’s long period of illegality (only reversed in 2007) in the US, many other herbal concoctions were used to try and achieve its unique taste. However it is certain that in the original, nothing but the finest absinthe would do.

It is, and has always been, built in a very certain manner:

60ml Whiskey (traditionally Rye)
12.5ml Absinthe
3 Dash Peychauds Bitters
1 Sugar Cube

Get two old fashioned rocks glasses. In one, fill with ice and and add the absinthe, leaving for a few moments to wet. In the other place the sugar cube and soak it in the bitters, pummel down with a muddler to produce a sugary paste (add drops of water if this is hard). Stir the ice and absinthe to coat the inside of the glass with the absinthe, then disgard the ice. Add the whiskey to the glass with the sugary paste and stir the mixture together. The transfer the mixture to the absinthe coated glass, briefly swirl by hand. Garnish with an orange zest, or no garnish – personal preference.

Notes. Harsh and cloying notes from the whiskey and absinth are present on initial taste, progressing to a smoother middle texture with the peychauds and sugar creating a subtle spicey note underneath the mixture. Ends on a long aniside taste at the back of the tongue.

Can also be made with a variety of spirits in place of the whiskey. Cognac and Aged Rum are two personal favourites. As the drink relies upon the base quality of the spirit used it is essential to use high-level spirits in the making of the drink.

So we continue…

The Martini

Popularly accepted history accepts that the origin of the martini lies in 1862 in San Francisco, named after the nearby town of Martinez, and found in the Occidental Hotel. The recipe oringaly calling for gin and sweet vermouth to be shaken with a slice of lemon and served.

This recipe however altered through the years, and through the easily home-made nature of gin itself became a true prohibition classic. The sweet vermouth being switched in favour of the dry vermouth, who’s taste covered the unsubtle burn of the cheap “bathtub” gin.

As the prohibition finished, and the increase of higher quality gins available began, the amount of vermouth added was steadily removed. The era of the dry martini began.

(The phrase “dry” refers to a martini made with little (to no) vermouth. And a “wet” martini obviously with far higher portions of vermouth.)

The appearance of vodka in a martini replacing the gin was not seen until the 1950’s and became popularised by Ian Flemming’s fictional character, James Bond. Purists still insist that despite vodka’s saturation of most modern-day sold martini’s that gin is still the original ingredient, and as such the vodka martini should go by the name “the Bradford” to prevent confusion.

There is a copious amount of tales surrounding how dry a martini can be made, ranging from the simple to the obscure. Many bars now have begun using spritzers of vermouth to simply coat the martini glass rather than using the vermouth in the prodcution of the drink. Others stick by Winston Churchills appraoch of simply chilling gin and then bowing in the direction of France (Vermouth’s origin), or the equally useful idea of letting sunlight shine through a bottle of vermouth onto the glass.

Garnishing is also quite varied, some sticking by the original lemon zest (personal favourite) and the traditional washed olive, and others varying to the obscure additions of coffee beans, herbs, and varied spices. In my opinion all but the lemon add an unnecessary extra element to the simple and powerful original taste.

As with the Manhattan, the martini can be made either by shaking or stirring. However, as nearly any bartender will tell you, stirring is truley the only way to enjoy the originally intended taste.

Specs for most martini’s served by me are as follows:

60ml Gin or Vodka
10ml Dry Vermouth
1 Lemon Rind

Build the boston glass and tin as you would a Manhattan, and add the vermouth over the ice. Stir to coat the ice and then strain remaining vermouth out of the tin. Add the lemon rind and spirit to the tin and coninue stirring until dilution hits the desired taste. Double strain into a frozen martini glass and garnish with a curled lemon rind.

Notes. Should sit on the tongue imparting subtle flavours throughout with only a mild background burn. Smooth texture courtesy of the vermouth is found in the middle of the drink, along with the lemon’s sharp citrus notes.

Must be drunk swiftly to enjoy the drink whilst it is at its perfect drinking temperature. I’ve known of bartenders to snap the base of a martini glass off, forcing the customer to drink it without putting it down once, through sheer annoyance at commonly seeing martini’s sitting, warming up, and losing their taste next to unaware patrons.

The addition of bitters, as was originally called for in the recipe, is a point of interest for me. They can impart beautifully subtle notes to the drink, and work nicely hand-in-hand with the spirit (particularily Gin) however obviously many bitters colour can ruin the clean appearance of the drink. Both Orange and Peach bitters work especially well for rounding the drink off, and making it a more approachable concoction.

On a side note I can’t really not mention the Vesper Martini.

Invented by Ian Flemming for his character, James Bond, this variation calls for a 2:1 ratio of gin to vodka, the addition of a large amount of vermouth, and the shaking of the drink before serving.

Not exactly my cup of tea, however a popularised (and thanks to its excess dillution, a more approachable) variation upon the classic.

The definitive history of the word “cocktail” is, and has always been as far as I can see, quite a debatable subject.

I for one am I great fan of the Savoy’s explanation on the topic, detailing a brief encounter between a southern american general and a Mexican princess known as “Coctel” apparently so entrancing in her beauty that the general decided to etch her name in history so she would be forevermore remembered.

Bit far fetched I admit…

Other more logical explanations draw the comparison between the tail of a male rooster, and its connotations to jesting and light-heartedness, and the period of prohibition where the disguising of alcohol in various “bittered slings” to fool the officials was quite the new-age thing to do.

And one more entertaining story lies with the delightful Miss Betsy Flannagan

Betsy, a barmaid in a tavern in Hall’s Corners, NY, served Betsy’s Bracers. During the Revolutionary War, American & French soldiers frequented it. American soldiers stole some male pheasants from the British & a wild party was had. While drinking they toasted to Betsy’s drink “Here’s to the divine liquor which is as delicious to the palate, as the cock’s tails are beautiful to the eye.” To which a French officer replied, “Vive le cocktail!”. There is reference to a Betsy Flanagan. Who knows which Betsy, was Betsy Flanagan. One story goes something along the lines of decorating the out side of a glass with a tail feather from a rooster. Some say that this is where Washington and his officers frequented. Washington wore feathers in his hat, and one of his officers toasted to “the cock’s tail”

However which way you look at it, as long as so little written corrospondence on the topic exists, no one answer is set in stone. Although the possibilities for long and suitably entertaining stories are endless. And long may it continue I say.

Read up in detail here.

Back to the topic at hand though.

Classic Cocktails

“A Classic cocktail is defined as a cocktail which appeared after the publication of Jerry Thomas‘ 1887 Bar-Tender’s Guide but before the end of Prohibition in the United States in 1934. This is distinct from a traditional cocktail from pre-1887 or a modern cocktail from after the end of Prohibition but before 1990.”

This is a bit too strict for my liking but it sets the tone for what were touching on here. Drinks harking back to the pre-prohibition days of experimentation. I’m going to classify my classics here as drinks so deeply set in cocktail history it shall never be forgotten or skimmed over.

Each individual one of the classic cocktails is found worldwide on nearly every bar and restaurants drinks list, and each has its own long and winding history.

To begin…

The Manhattan

Popularised belief behind its origin is that it originated at the, suitably named, Manhattan Club, New York, in the 1870’s to celebrate a banquet hosted by Winston Churchills mother for a presidential candidate. It’s success led to a demand for it around the area, having requests named after its club of origin (the manhattan cocktail).

Three main versions exist upon its basic build of Bourbon, Vermouth, and bitters. Namely the Dry, Sweet, and Perfect Manhattans. The basic variation is the type of vermouth used and also the ratio of it to the Bourbon. The ratios have been changed through the course of time however now they usually lie as follows:

Sweet: Bourbon, Sweet Vermouth, Peychauds (4:2:1)
Dry: Bourbon, Dry Vermouth, Orange Bitters (4:2:1)
Perfect: Bourbon, Dry Vermouth, Sweet Vermouth, Orange Bitters (4:1:1:1)

Also indisputable is the fact that the drink should most certainly be stirred down rather than shaken. Shaking imparts an unsightly foam upon the top of the drink and creates a dilutted taste far from the subtle bourbon notes it intends to impart.

The rationelle behind stirring a drink rather than shaking is to smoothly mix the ingredients together, chill all the constituent parts down to near freezing, yet to dilute the drink only slightly. Everyone has their own personal methodology to stirring a drink, however iv found the following to be the most effective;

First fill a boston glass half full with crushed ice and then add soda to it, filling to no higher than half-way. Then insert a boston tin into the resultant freezing cold water in the glass. Then add ice into the tin and proceed to build the drink.

This results in the fastest freezing of the liquid,without risking over-dilution. And also gives a recepticle for the discarding of any spare vermouth.

Using the above method is how I personally build the majority of my classics, and have also found it useful for the making of mint julips.

Here lies the specs for a perfect manhattan:

60ml Bourbon
7.5ml Sweet Vermouth
7.5ml Dry Vermouth
3 Dash Orange Bitters
1 Dash Peychauds

After building your boston glass and tin in the previously mentioned manner, 2/3 fill your tin with ice and proceed to add the vermouth. Stir the ice and churn to coat all the ice in it. If excess vermouth is left, discard it into the glass. Then add 40ml of the Bourbon to the mixture along with the bitters, begin to stir the drink down in the tin. Taste and add the remaining bourbon taste. Serve in a frozen martini glass and garnish with a curled orange rind.

The colour should be a beautiful mahogony-browny red.

Notes. Strong bourbon notes throughout sit on the tongue. An underlying spice from the bitters and orange rind is present on the intial taste and returns at the end. The vermouth’s almost medicinal notes should only be found in the background, adding just the correct balance to the bourbon’s fiery texture.

The Manhattan is these days most commonly served in a martini glass, however originally it wasn’t uncommon to found it served  in a rocks glass. Served short on ice is in fact my prefered way to serve a dry manhattan as I have found the dry vermouth to be overpowering without the addes gradual dilution from the ice.

Also looks mint if you ask me.

The Bitter Truth…

July 10, 2009

The recent, well, relatively, recent launch of The Bitter Truth range of aromatic and flavoured bitters inspired me to start looking into the varied ranges of bitters out there on the market. And it led to my swift realization that I was only acquainted with a fraction of what was available.

So here lies my findings, a quick perusal through their history. Got to love the pre-prohibition stories you find our there!

Bitters originally started out as medicinal aids, sold in pharmacies and health stores for the curing of many varied ailments. Tradtionally served in brandy, Angostura bitters were (and still to this day) used to settle an upset stomach or indegestion.

Their popularity however was swiftly culled with the introduction of the Pure Food & Health Act in 1906, regulating the selling of any “Medicines” that could be detrimonous to your health. Obviously the alcoholic nature and serving of such bitter concoctions was classified as such and thereforth their decline began.

Rediscovered many years later these bitters swiftly worked their way back into the build of many a classic cocktail. Their herbal undertones imparting a light undernote to otherwise harsh and cloying drinks.

These bitters, starting with only a few available, have erupted of late onto the market. With the introduction on orange bitters only a few years ago opening up whole realms of drink options, brands have swiftly released concoction after concoction to the on-trade.

I need not list all the available but my personal favourite of late is the Fee Brothers Mint bitters. Imparting a delightfully subtle undertone of freshly picked mint along with light earthy notes, it can transform a so-so cocktail into a true delight.

Useful reading here and here.

Did I Miss Something…

July 10, 2009

When did the Mint Julip become a old biddy’s drink?!

This classic, well-crafted, cocktail, when made in the hands of a good bartender is the epitome of sunny weather refreshment.

The combination of floral, strong, and sweet sits on the tongue like there’s no tomorrow. Opening up your tastebuds to the Bourbon’s complexity without paralysing your mouth with its inherent burn.

Apparently first recorded in 1803 described as a ““dram of spirituous liquor that has mint in it, taken by Virginians in the morning.”. Finding its historical roots in an ancient Arabic drink called a Julab, combining rose petals, water, and sugar which produced a scent believed to impart instant benifits upon the drinker. As this drink swiftly spred to the Mediterranean regions the rose petals were changed in favour of mint, a more widespread local herb. So began the Julip’s rise to popularity.

It is believed to have arrived in the USA in the early 1700’s as a morning pick-me-up for the land laborours, originally produced with Rye whiskey or Rum as its constituant alcohol parts. By 1938 however it was established as the Kentucky Derby’s official drink of the races, and so it continues to this day.

The below is a brief excert I like to think summarises the Julip’s mood setting tones:

By William Alexander Percy

[From “A Small Boy’s Heroes”, Lanterns on the Levee, the autobiography of William Alexander Percy (Louisiana State University Press, 1988)]

“Father and General Catchins and Captain McNeilly and Captain Wat Stone and Mr. Everman would forgather every so often on our front gallery. These meeting must habitually have taken place in summer, because I remember Mother would be in white, looking very pretty, and would immediately set about making a mint julep for the gentlemen – no hors d’oeuvres, no sandwiches, no cocktails, just a mint julep. After the first long swallow – really a slow and noiseless suck, because the thick crushed ice comes against your teeth and the ice must be kept out and the liquor let in – Cap Mac would say: “Very fine, Camille, you make the best julep in the world.” She probably did. Certainly her juleps had nothing in common with those hybrid concoctions one buys in bars the world over under that name. It would have been sacrilege to add lemon, or a slice of orange or of pineapple, or one of these wretched maraschino cherries.

First you needed excellent bourbon whisky; rye or Scotch would not do at all. Then you put half an inch of sugar in the bottom of the glass and merely dampened it with water. Next, very quickly – and here is the trick in the procedure – you crushed your ice, actually powdered it, preferably in a towel with a wooden mallet, so quickly that it remained dry, and slipping two sprigs of fresh mint against the inside of the glass, you crammed the ice in right to the brim, packing it with your hand. Last you filled the glass, which apparently had no room left for anything else, with bourbon, the older the better, and grated a bit of nutmeg on the top.

The glass immediately frosted and you settled back in your chair for a half an hour of sedate cumulative bliss. Although you stirred the sugar at the bottom, it never all melted, therefore at the end of the half hour there was left a delicious mess of ice and mint and whisky which a small boy was allowed to consume with calm rapture. Probably the anticipation of this phase of a julep was what held me on the outskirts of these meetings rather than the excitement of the discussion, which often I did not understand.”

The recipes themselves most certainly don’t debate the ingredients. Mint, Sugar, Ice, and a healthy dose of Bourbon (the older the better). However, the build, and quantity, of the ingredients is, and always has been, in debate.

The below is as I quite like putting it together. Neither sweet nor bitter, neither overpoweringly strong nor watered down:

60ml Bourbon
12-15 Small to Medium sized Mint Leaves
2-4 Bar Spoons brown sugar (never, ever, ever, ever Gomme)

Add the sugar, varying to taste, in the base of tall glass (if spare, a boston tin is perfect) and add a drop of water to the mixure. Pulverise the sugar into a paste with a muddler and spread around the base of your glass. Pick your mint, being careful to include no stems or to tear the mint and, after briefly slapping it to releae flavour, add to the glass. Lightly use a muddler to coat the mint in the sugar paste throughout. Fill your glass to the brim with crushed ice and churn slightly to spread the ingredients through the depth of the drink. Then quickly add your Bourbon before any dilution occurs and again churn lightly to spread the flavour throughout. Taste the drink now to check the correct balance of flavours. Add additional amounts of individual ingredients to taste.

Garnish with many a mint sprig, forcing the customer to practically drink through a forest of the stuff! The classic addition of grated nutmeg on the top is not to my taste but is certainly to many peoples taste, adding a light spice which is very complimentary to the Bourbon.

Exactly as I like it.

Two new house favorites to hit our bar of late.

London Pride (Verso Edit)

Firstly, a cocktail pulled straight from the pages of the classic Savoy cocktail guide. Admitadly we did a little bit of tweaking on our end to overcome the initial quite bland end taste however is essentially faithful to the original.

12.5ml Gin
12.5ml Amaretto
12.5ml Kwai Feh lychee liquor
12.5ml Single Cream

Shake all and double strain into a frozen martini glass. Garnish with a whole, sealed vanilla pod.

Notes. Surprisingly, given the cream, it in fact has a quite light consistency and an almost spicy taste to it throughout. Both inoffensive and also deeply complex through the length of the drink.

Only downside is it goes down ever so, ever so, quickly. Dangerous stuff.

El Jimador’s Night-Cap

37.5ml Silver Tequila
12.5ml Mozart Dark Chocolate
10ml Noilly Prat Sweet
3 Dash Peychauds

Notes. Like many tequila-based martinis, this is certainly not everyones tipple of choice. That said however for the adamant tequila lover this is most certainly a point of interest. The tequila leaves an unmistakable burn throughout, binding to the vermouth’s medicinal undertones to create a deeply layered and complex end to the drink. The dark chocolates bitter-sweet tartness sits lightly on in the mouth, without ever becoming too overpowering. A rewarding and satisfying drink to enjoy, preferably on a long night with only one thing in mind.

On a Sour Note…

July 8, 2009

It’s an easy enough mistake (and one i’m heartily guilty of on occasion) when making drinks these days to swing one of two main ways; to get fixated on your classics, your history, and force this upon the customer, waxing lyrical until they simply don’t care anymore. Or to go the other way, getting so tied down by the customer that your reportoire of drinks simply consists of sweet, generic-tasting drinks following a constant 2:1:3 ratio of spirit, liquor, and juice.

Neither are exactly ideal and most certainly a good bartender they do not maketh.

That said however it’s hardly taxing to hit a nice middle-ground. Hitting a nice balance of sweet and sour, whilst still maintaining a deep underlying amount of spirit knowledge and practical mixology.

My personal fave to hit such types of drinks is in the form of your widely-known family of drinks…

The Sours

I’m pretty sure you can guess the make-up of these drinks. A basic 2:1:1 ratio of spirit, sour, and sweet, with the addition of an egg white to bind the contrasting tastes together into a well balanced drink.

The oldest mention of a sour, based on whiskey, is found in 1870, in a Wisconsin based magazine.

Since then however this versatile build of drink has been utilised everywhere. Taking little-to-no time to cobble together it’s a perfect basis for exploration into the expansive world of spirits and liquors.

We all end up having our personal favourites though, and of late the following couple of drinks have swiftly worked their way into my top recomendations for the uninitiated into the world of cocktails.

The Honey-Berry Sour

We start off with a drink that first caught my eye in the lengthy, and sometimes dubious, Diffords cocktail guide. Not neccesarily trusting the initial specs I altered them to suit the following:

25ml Krupnik
25ml Chambord
12.5ml Cherry Marnier
10ml Lemon Juice
10ml Gomme
1 Egg white.

Dry-shake the ingredients (without ice) briefly, then add ice and proceed to shake hard. Single strain into a rocks glass over ice and garnish with a lemon slice and a cherry.

Notes. A cloyingly sweet start to the drink swiftly descends into a tart lemon and berry middle. Velvety texture due to the egg white and cherry marnier sticks to the tongue and leaves you on the bitter-sweet taste of the krupnik.

Black-Forest Sour

This one’s a variation upon a drink I first found on the Bluu, Nottingham‘s cocktail list in 2007. Originally in the form of a martini I found it to be far too sickly for most peoples taste. However with the simple souring down of the drink its become one of my most frequently served concoctions of late.

25ml Amaretto
25ml Chambord*
12.5ml Cherry Marnier
10ml Cranberry Juice
10ml Lemon Juice
10ml Gomme

Note no egg white in this sour. The drink has a sticky consistency that still manages to maintain its delicately balanced nature, egg white overpowers this.

Shake all hard and single strain over ice in a rocks glass. Add dash of soda if needed to taste. Garnish with skewered blueberries and a mint sprig.

Notes. As its namesake suggests the drink both begins and carries throughout on a black-forest-esque taste. Sticky sweet notes are present in the middle of the drink and carry through to finish on a quite tart note. Very easy to drink and can be produced using even the most basic of back bars. Decidedly more-ish. Not subtle in the slightest, however appealing in its nature.

*Can also be altered by the removal of chambord and addition of a lightly spiced, aged rum. The inclusion of an egg white is essential to the obtaining of the ideal taste, as the rum is far less binding a liquor opposed to the chambord. This results in a a far more deep and fierce tasting drink.

Ramos Gin Fizz

July 7, 2009

I think i’m in love.

Truly a thing of beauty. The epitome of the morning after drink. I write this sitting in a well-reputed bar cradling one of these in one hand, and in the other the battered remnants of my ego. Whether it works or not only the next few minutes will tell…

Anyhow, back to the Ramos. Now this is one seriously old school drink, invented by the Ramos brothers in New Orleans in 1888, those beautiful pre-prohibition days when the cocktail first began its rise towards world domination. History has it that the demand for this drink was originally so big that the brothers used to employ 12-15 “shaker boys” to help them keep on top of things (thanks to the low labour costs these were traditionally young immigrants).

And looking at how to build the drink you can certainly see why they may have needed a hand with the shaking. Its practically a full-body workout!

The specs i’m inclined to swing towards are as follows:

50ml gin (london dry)
25ml single cream
15ml gomme
10ml lime juice
10ml lemon juice
1 egg white
2-3 dash orange water
1 dash orange bitters
3 dash vanilla essence
top with soda water.

Shake all ingredients, apart from the soda, without ice for 2-3 minutes, Or as long as you can, to create a thick and well formed merangue-esque foam. Then add ice and continue shaking for a minimum of 3 minutes. Strain into a chilled tall glass, no ice, and then top with soda. Stir gently as you add the soda to excite the foam into frothing up to, and preferably over, the top of the glass. No garnish is called for, however I like to twist an orange zest over the top to impart the oils upon the foam. I also prefer no straw so as to force the drinking through the foam, resulting in the full-flavour coming through in one.

Notes. Subtle and cloying. The egg white is prominent in the floral foam, which has mild meringue notes throughout. The drink itself, when drunk through the foam imparts a gentle fizz courtesy of the soda and only mild herbal notes from the gin. The citrus is present in the middle of the tongue adding a sharp kick to the otherwise velvety mixture. The vanilla is practically unnoticeable apart from at the end of the drink, whereby its present along with the creams softness.


And I tell you what, I think I feel a bit better already…