A Night in the Forest

• 2.0 oz. Rogue Spruce Gin
• 0.5 oz. Leopold Bros Three Pins Alpine liqueur
• 0.25 oz. elderflower liqueur (St. Elder)
• 0.25 oz. Lillet Blanc
• dash of lemon bitters (Bitter Truth)

Stir with ice and strain into snifter. Garnish with rosemary.

I wanted something piney. Generally in this case I reach for my Clear Creek Douglas Fir eau de vie, but I had just picked up the Rogue Spruce Gin and thought I’d explore that. To enhance the herbaceous notes I added in the Leopold Bros alpine liqueur, and at this point had all the pine I wanted. It needed something sweet and, I thought, floral, so then came the elderflower. To brighten it up and add some bitterness I finished with Lillet Blanc and a touch of lemon bitters.

The name comes from Annie’s Song by John Denver, this line of which was the first thing I thought of when I sipped this. It certainly filled up my senses, in all the right ways.

The Departed

• 1.5 oz. Irish Whiskey (Jameson)
• 0.5 oz. rye (Rittenhouse)
• 0.5 oz. crème de noyaux (Tempus Fugit)
• 0.5 oz. cranberry liqueur (Flag Hill)
• dash of Angostura bitters

Stir gently with ice and strain into old fashioned over ice.

I have been playing a bit with Flag Hill’s cranberry liqueur and thought I might do a play on the Godfather (Scotch and amaretto) that I find too sweet and in need of some brightness. Enter the cranberry. With that in hand, I thought I might go full Massachusetts (though Flag Hill is in New Hampshire, the cranberries come from the Cape) and swap in Irish whiskey for the Scotch. I wanted a bit more bite, so subbed in a little rye for the base and ended it with Angostura. The crème de noyaux has a similar taste to amaretto and is less cloying to my palate, so that was swapped in as well.

Since I was transplanting the Godfather to Boston I thought Scorsese’s film The Departed was a suitable name. I only saw it once so don’t have any clever quotes to throw out to you. Other than whatever you do don’t attempt a Boston accent after drinking this. On second thought, don’t attempt a Boston accent when sober either.

There Are No Monkeys in Hawaii

• 1.5 oz. Scarlet Ibis rum
• 0.5 oz. Clément V.S.O.P. Rhum Agricole Vieux
• 0.5 oz. crème de banane (Tempus Fugit)
• 0.5 oz. lemon juice
• 0.25 oz. lime juice
• 0.25 oz. cinnamon syrup
• 0.25 oz. honey syrup (1:1)
• 0.25 oz. allspice dram (Bitter Truth)
• 0.25 oz. Cruzan blackstrap rum
• 2 dashes Angostura bitters

Shake with ice and strain into glass over crushed ice.

Ok, so I wanted to make another tiki drink with banana, and after a couple of iterations I developed the above. As I was writing this up I thought I might compare it with other banana drinks I might have made (there have only been a few). Turns out, I inadvertently replicated almost exactly a drink from a year ago, Daylight Come, except for the addition of honey syrup and blackstrap.

So enjoy a second round on me!

Old Dog / New Tricks

• 2.0 oz. New Western or London Dry gin
• 0.5 oz. birch liqueur (Wild Moon)
• 0.25 oz. Green Chartreuse
• 0.25 oz. lemon juice
• Dash of Dandelion & Burdock bitters

Shake with ice and strain into coupe.

Here’s a Last Word variant using the Wild Moon birch liqueur out of Connecticut. The ratio is very different being much more gin forward and swapping lemon for lime, plus the addition of some bitters.

Just when I think I’ve milked the Last Word for all it can offer I get another drink out of it, hence the name.

Orange Parrot

• 1.5 oz. Chesuncook Botanical Spirit
• 0.5 oz. turmeric liqueur (Tamworth)
• 0.5 oz. carrot juice
• 0.25 oz. ginger liqueur (The King’s Ginger)
• 0.25 oz. cinnamon syrup
• 0.25 oz. lime juice
• dash of Abbot’s bitters

Shake with ice and strain into glass. Garnish with lime.

I was making my wife and kids some non-alcoholic drinks using some carrot juice (different combinations and ratios of lemon juice, cinnamon syrup, ginger ale, orange bitters) and the carrot juice gave such a beautiful color. I wanted an alcoholic cocktail version.

The Chesuncook spirit is carrot-based, so that was the natural choice. The turmeric liqueur seemed a perfect complement for carrots. The ginger liqueur and cinnamon syrup added some spice and sugar, and the lime gave a bright acid. A cocktail needs bitters, so I reached for Abbot’s.

The name comes from the joke, “What’s orange and sounds like a parrot?”

I didn’t say it was a good joke.

Shishi

• 2.0 oz. bourbon (Bulleit)
• 0.5 oz. ginger liqueur (King’s Ginger)
• 0.5 oz. allspice dram (Cotton & Reed)
• 0.5 oz. lemon juice
• 4 dashes Angostura bitters
• 1/4 tsp soy sauce

Shake with ice and strain into Nick and Nora.

I haven’t used soy sauce in a cocktail in years, but I love it and am not sure why I don’t take advantage of it more. Well, it can overpower, that’s why. But when it’s up against bourbon and lemon and ginger with allspice thrown in for good measure, it fits in perfectly.

This one started as a riff on the Lion’s Tail and remains fairly close. Lemon is in for lime, and the ginger replaces the simple syrup. The soy is extra. Thus the name of the variant, after the Chinese imperial lions, or shishi.

Broken Wings

• 2.0 oz. Genever (Hofland)
• 0.5 oz. Branca Menta
• 0.5 oz. elderflower liqueur (St. Elder)
• 0.25 oz. lemon juice

Shake with ice and strain into coupe. Garnish with lemon “wing”.

There’s a genever drink I fell on love with years ago called Work in Progress that features genever and Fernet Branca with St. Germain. Here is my riff on that, substituting Branca Menta with its minty bite and pairing it with lemon. Floral and bright and bitter.

For the name, Hofland’s bottle features a flightless bird (looks like a pheasant to me), and maybe I had Mr. Mister in my head. Or The Beatles’ Blackbird. In either case, take this and learn to fly.

Aphrodite’s Tears

• 1.5 oz. mezcal (Del Maguey Vida)
• 0.5 oz. Courvoisier Rosé liqueur
• 0.5 oz. Destillaré Intense Pomegranate
• 0.25 oz. lemon juice
• 0.25 oz. agave nectar
• 2 dashes Peychaud’s bitters
• 1 dash cardamom bitters

Shake with ice then strain into coupe. Garnish with three drops of rose water.

This started with the new Copper & King’s pomegranate liqueur I had picked up. I anchored it with mezcal then added the lemon for acidity. The liqueur itself is not very sweet (comparatively), so the agave nectar came next. The rosé? Honestly, I had it on hand and thought it would mellow things out. It did. And the bitters completed it (with the Peychaud’s also adding color).

The rose water drops are the tears. One version of the myth is that roses are red from the tears she wept for the death of Adonis. Rethinking now, I might add the rose water to the main and then drop in the Peychaud’s as garnish. But I won’t cry over this arrangement.

Southern Twang

• 2.0 oz. bourbon
• 0.5 oz. creme de peche (Mathilde)
• 0.25 oz. mint tea liqueur (Five Foxes)
• 0.25 oz. simple syrup
• 0.25 oz. lemon juice

Shake with ice and dirty pour into glass or jar. Garnish with fresh mint.

I had the mint tea liqueur and wasn’t sure what I could do with it. Starting with a mint julep model with bourbon and peach liqueur for sweetness, I meandered into sour land with the lemon, and then needed some simple syrup to even things out without losing either the mint or peach.

The end result seemed a composite of sweet tea, a mint julep and some Georgia peaches, so the name Southern Twang felt appropriate. Hope ya’ll like it.

A Saint, a Monk and a Devil Walk Into a Bar

• 1.0 oz. Principe De Los Apostoles Mate Gin
• 0.5 oz. Yellow Chartreuse
• 0.25 oz. Maurin Quina
• 0.25 oz. Lillet Blanc
• 0.25 oz. falernum (Bitter Truth)
• 0.25 oz. lime juice

Shake with ice and strain into a Nick and Nora.

I really love the “Prince of the Apostles” mate gin out of Argentina, which has a very bright mint/eucalyptus nose and taste. Using that as a base (I did try with a London Dry and, although it still worked, wasn’t as interesting to me) I added some herbal and bitter elements in the form of Chartreuse, Maurin Quina and the Lillet. Then to balance it out I added lime juice for acid and falernum for additional sweetness, liking how the spices played into the other ingredients.

The name, if not obvious from the picture, comes from the Saint referred to by the gin name, the monks who make the Chartreuse, and the devil appearing on the Maurin Quina label. If anyone can come up with a punch line for the set up, there’s a free drink in it for you.