On December 5th, from 6-8pm, celebrate your right to imbibe at a Repeal Day Cocktail Party! Hosted in the elegant Peacock Alley at the Waldorf-Astoria hotel, the night will include fourdifferent cocktails crafted by Frank Caiafa, cocktail expert and head of Peacock Alley’s beverage program. The drink list will be exclusive to this event and include recreations of classic cocktails downed in backdoor speakeasys, as well as modern concoctions inspired by their Prohibition predecessors. Light appetizers will be provided by the Waldorf-Astoria kitchens.
Caiafa will also be on hand to speak about Peacock Alley’s unique history, and the Waldorf-Astoria’s link to the Prohibition era. Scotch Whisky expert Kristina Sutter will discussthe history of Prohibition and how it came to a close.
So come tip your glass to the end of Prohibition and join us for historic cocktails in an incomparable location. Appropriate cocktail attire is required.
When Charles Dickens made his first trip to America in 1842, he made certain to partake of one of the greatest American inventions: the cocktail. While visiting Boston, he said “the bar is a large room with a stone floor, and there people stand and smoke, and lounge about, all the evening dropping in and out as the humor takes them. There too the stranger is initiated into the mysteries of Gin-sling, Cocktail, Sangaree, Mint Julep, Sherry-cobbler, Timber Doodle, and other rare drinks.”
Dickens didn’t write down any recipes for these “rare drinks”, but fortunately some of his contemporaries did. Captain Alexander, who toured America in 1833, recorded the directions for making The Cock Tail, along with four other drinks he had at the City Hotel in New York, prepared by a celebrity bartender named Willard. Another English tourist, Captain Marryatt, recorded his experiences with Mint Juleps after he made a trip to America in 1837. He said: “I once overheard two ladies talking in the next room to me, and one of them said, ‘Well if I have a weakness for any one thing, it is for a mint julep!’–a very amiable weakness, and proving her good sense and good taste. They are, in fact, like the American ladies, irresistible.” I think that quote is like the best thing ever.
Much of what we know about Victorian cocktails comes from How to Mix Drinks; or, the Bon-Vivants Companion by Prof. Jerry Thomas, published in 1862. Which, thanks to Google, is now online.
Couldn’t make it out to What Dickens Drank at apex art last week? No worries; below, all the recipes you need to mix an 1840s cocktail at home. Photos from the event, and more, can be found here.
“This is a tricky time of year for cocktails. We’ve turned the corner into fall, and yet it’s still hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. How can we ease the transition from frosty summer concoctions to warm winter imbibements? Make a bowl of punch!”
This week, I’ve got an article up on The Spirit ( thespir.it ) on fall punches. For a brief history of punch and delicious recipes, read the full article here.
Whiskey is my drink of choice, so I admit I love the unintentional whiskey theme of this week.
The Whiskey Sour was invented sometime in the middle of the 19th century; Jerry Thomas describes a brandy and a gin variation in his 1862 book. Other variations: a dash of egg white makes it into the Boston Sour, and Boston also gave birth to the Ward 8 in 1898, which adds orange juice and grenadine.
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The Whiskey Sour
From The Cocktail Book: A Sideboard Manual for Gentlemen, 1926
2 teaspoons simple syrup (or super fine sugar)
2-3 dashes lemon juice
1 tablespoon seltzer
2 ounces whiskey
1. In a rocks glass, add simple syrup, lemon juice and seltzer. Stir to combine (or until sugar is dissolved).
2. Fill glass with ice, and add whiskey. Stir until the outside of the glass is cold. Garnish with a cherry and orange wedge, or seasonal fruits.
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And if you like a Whiskey Sour, try the Ward III at the 19th C. Pub Crawl’s last stop, Ward III: “Made with bourbon, strawberries, egg whites and nutmeg, it’s actually ‘a derivation of the classic Sour,’ explains (owner) Neff. A historical classic, viewed through rose-colored glasses—and given a healthy dose of red berries, too.” (Metromix New York)
For a full list of Ward III’s “exquisite libations”, go here.
David Wondrich, cocktail historian and Jerry Thomas expert, says the Manhattan “…Probably dates to the Manhattan Club, which was a social club for rich Democrats at Fifth Avenue and 15th Street in the 1870s.” Accustomed to the maraschino cherry standards of a modern-day Manhattan, I was pleasantly surprised when I was recently served a variation from Wondrich’s book Imbibe! Remarkably smooth and even a touch sweet, this has been my favorite drink I’ve quaffed in a long time.
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The Manhattan
From Imbibe! By David Wondrich, 2007.
Based on a recipe by Jerry Thomas.
1. Fill a tumbler with ice; add all ingredients and stir until the outside of the glass is cold.
2. Strain into a martini (cocktail) glass, and garnish with a cherry or a twist of lemon peel.
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Ready for another variation of this classic drink? Try Madame X‘s Dirty Cherry Manhattan. The second stop on the 19th C. Pub Crawl, Madam X serves up a Manhattan made with Basil Hayden’s 8-year-old bourbon, sour cherry syrup and sweet vermouth. For a full list of Madame X’s cocktails, go here.
When Absinthe became legal in the states, the first drink cocktail enthusiasts began mixing up was the Sazerac. Invented in New Orleans circa 1870, it’s based on an even older Cognas drink invented by Antoine Amédée Peychaud; his bitters are indispensable in creating this cocktail.
four dashes absinthe
2 ounces rye whiskey
3 dashed Peychaud bitters
1 teaspoon simple syrup
Mint
1. Pour absinthe into a rocks glass, and swirl it around until the bottom and the sides of the glass are coated. Pour out absinthe.
2. Add ice, then whiskey, bitters, and simple syrup. Still until the outside of the glass is cold. Garnish with a sprig of mint and enjoy.
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For an updated version of this recipe, order the 17th Street Sazerac at Rye House, the first stop on the 19th Century Pub Crawl on Saturday. Metromix New York, who inspired this post, had this to say about the modernized cocktail: ”Made from Rittenhouse Rye, Hine Cognac, demerara syrup, Peychaud and Angostura bitters and Marteau Absinthe, the drink has all the anise zip of the original, but a deeper tone as well. Not a traditional 1835 pour by any means.”
Sounds ok to me, but I may be more tempted by the Rye House Punch, a combination of chai infused Rittenhouse rye, Batavia Arrack, lemon, grapefruit, Angostura bitters, and soda. Not only do I love a good chai tea, but I am fascinated with Batavia Arrack, a popular 19th century spirit only recently re-introduced to the market. I’m going to pick up a bottle to experiment with some 19th-century recipes, but I can’t wait to try it in a Victorian-inspired cocktail on Saturday.
When the weather gets all warm and luscious like this, all I want to do is drink. I want to sit under a tree and sip a frosty cocktail. So, to lead up to Saturday’s 19th C. Pub Crawl, I’m declaring it Cocktail Week. Everyday, I’ll be posting the recipe for an iconic 19th-century cocktail and featuring a pub crawl bar that serves up their own version of a classic concoction.
A Gentleman strolls through Boston on the 19th Century Pub Crawl.
Over the weekend, the 19th Century Pub Crawl went on the road for one wild night in Boston, home to some of America’s oldest bars and most notorious dens of vice.
The crawl met at Eastern Standard, a new bar that focuses on the revival of classic cocktails. The capable bartenders put together a custom drink list featuring authentic 19th century imbibements. I had myself the “19th Century,” a drink previously known as the Old-Fashioned, and originally known at the Cock-tail. A mix of rye, bitters, and a twist of lemon, this delightful and refreshing drink was the first cocktail, and is the origin point from whence all other cocktails were birthed. I also had the Japanese Cocktail, invented by Jerry Thomas–surprisingly delicious, and perhaps my favorite drink of the evening.
The custom 19th Century cocktail list at Eastern Standard.
If you are ever in Boston, I highly recommend dinner and a drink at Eastern Standard; their hospitality was touching, their bar-craft unparalleled.
The “19th Century” at Eastern Standard.
The crawl participants met and mingled; and, lubricated with a few fine cocktails, became fast friends. By the time we left Eastern Standard, we had 40 crawlers in tow.
An admittedly blurry photo of the crawl making its way to the Red Hat.
We traveled via subway to the Red Hat, a bar founded in 1906 in Boston’s old Theater district (later a neighborhood known for its burlesque shows). We settled in upstairs, next to the antique bar, and surrounded by a charming mural of old Boston. The ambiance was lovely.
I was won over by a small advertisement on my table and ordered a Kraken and Coke. Kraken is a new brand of “Black Spiced Rum,” which comes in an amazing jug-like bottle adorned with an angry sea monster. Ever since spotting it at Astor Wine & Spirits last month, I’ve been meaning to try it out. I was very pleasantly surprised–Kraken is sweet and spicy, and an incredibly pleasant companion to Coke. I recommend it.
Kraken & Coke. Release the Kraken!
Next, we trotted down the street to Union Bar at the Union Oyster House. The UOH is the oldest continually operating restaurant in the U.S., having been founded in 1826. It was the first bar to pass out wooden toothpicks in the 1860s. Despite my track record at previous pub crawls, I did not slurp up any oysters. Instead, I was bought a whiskey on the rocks by a woman in a dashing hat. Perfect.
We ended up skipping the Bell in Hand Tavern after sizing up the line in front of the door that extended around the block, and discovering there was a $10 cover. Boo. The next time I’m in Boston, I’m going to stop in for a burger and a beer; it is one of the oldest bars in America, after all.
Left: The discreet, nondescript hallway that leads to Drink.
Instead, we headed across the river to Drink, another new establishment known for exploring the history of cocktails. After six hours of drinking, I still had a party of twelve ready for more. When we got to Drink’s front stair, we were met by the doorman who (to quote a fellow pub crawler) had “the most amazing Chester A. Arthur mutton chops.” He sized us up, nodded and said: ”I heard you guys might be headed our way. Let me see what I can do.” He disappeared inside, and I addressed my loyal troupe of 19th century gentleman and ladies: “He says there’s at least a 45 minutes wait; last call is in 90 minutes. I’m read to wait them out; who’s with me?” Everyone agreed we were in it to win it.
Ten minutes later, the door opened. Chester A. smiled: “Welcome to Drink,” and he swept us inside.
Drink is a magical place; if you can get in, go. There is no menu, which at first strikes you as annoying. But in fact, it allows you the opportunity to chat with your adorable server/bartender who will say things like “I’ve got the perfect drink for you!” He started me off with another Cock-Tail, then an updated old-fashioned. Some of my companions asked for egg drinks, which are unrivaled at Drink. I think that’s what opened the gates for what happened next.
We were suddenly presented with a “special cocktail,” I didn’t catch it’s name. It has specific instructions for consumption: first, you smelled it. A big long whiff. Second, you sipped off the meringue-like egg white that sat on the drink’s surface. Last, you threw the drink back like a shot, imbibing the alcohol and the egg yolk which sits at the bottom of the glass. The egg yolk bursts in your mouth. As mine ruptured, I thought to myself: did I really just eat that raw egg?
Althought we all commented how sober we were on the walk to Drink, by the time we piled in cabs around 1:30 am, we were 3-5 sheets to the wind. Total Eclipse of the Heart came on the radio, and I sang it all the way back to my brother’s apartment in Cambridge, where I met a few friends for just one more drink.
They’re pointing to the “Gentlemen’s Room.”
I’m now safely entrenched back in New York city, still basking from the warm glow of a night of fine drinks, and even finer friends. I met such lovely people. And if you missed the Boston 19th Century Pub Crawl this year, worry not. There’s already plans for a repeat performance next spring. And for those of you in New York, and those of you willing to hop a Fung Wah to get here, the New York 19th Century Pub Crawl is right around the corner on May 15th. Check out our proposed route, and I hope to see you there!
Port Wine Jelly
From Directions For Cookery, In Its Various Branches. By Miss Leslie, 1840
1 cup of water
1 oz isinglass
1 oz gum arabic
2 cups port wine
2 ounces rock candy, or 3 tablespoons sugar
½ nutmeg, grated
1. In a medium saucepan, heat water and isinglass, stirring constantly until isinglass has dissolved. The resulting liquid with be thick and tapioca like
2. Add wine, gum Arabic, sugar and nutmeg. Bring to a boil, and boil for ten minutes. Stir constantly, because things get stuck to the bottom, boil over, or burn.
3. Strain through a cloth, like muslin or several layers of cheesecloth. Pour into a mold (I used four ramekins). Set aside until it comes to room temperature, then refrigerate overnight.
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When I was cooking the isinglass, it had a distinct ocean smell. Like salty sea air. I guess that’s because it comes from inside a fish. The gum arabic also had a distinct smell–like an old jewelry box. When I cooked everything together, it had the consistency of simple syrup.
After I poured the concoction in a mold and let it set, I popped it out of the ramekins and cut a slice to sample. I was already surprised– the texture was not at all how I thought it would be. I was expecting something like a jello; in reality it was more like fruit leather or Turkish delight. Very dense.
It didn’t taste very good—it made me make an unhappy face. The flavor of the chemical ingredients was stronger than that of the port wine. It might have been enjoyable if consumed in a time when their weren’t a lot of sweets available, like in the early 19th century, but in the 21st century it’s really pretty blah.
BUT–I was thrilled that it came together chemically. I mixed together strange bags of suspicious looking substances, and the final product set just how it should. Who figured this stuff out in the first place? Like “Let’s make a fancy dessert out of these crispy strings I found in a sturgeon!”
It makes me brave to try my next isinglass experiment, a “Very Fine Charlotte Russe.”
Hey, Bostonites! (Bostonians?) Come join us for a night of nineteenth-century debauchery at Boston’s oldest bars and most notorious dens of vice!
We will meet promptly at 5:30 PM at Eastern Standard (528 Commonwealth Avenue) for classic cocktails and complimentary appetizers. We will then proceed to Red Hat Café; Union Oyster House; Bell in Hand Tavern; and, should we still possess the fortitude and sobriety, Drink.
The crawl is FREE to join. Appropriate nineteenth century attire is encouraged, but by no means required.
1. In a medium saucepan, heat water and isinglass, stirring constantly until isinglass has dissolved. The resulting liquid with be thick and tapioca like
