Showing posts with label cognac. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cognac. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

The Alexander Ratio, Remixed

The cold weather can drive one's taste buds to yearn for warm flavors. Well, I don't know of any flavor warmer than cinnamon, and I don't know of a hotter liquor than Goldschlager.

Almost a year and a half ago I wrote of the ironclad Alexander cocktail type. What? You haven't been experimenting with it like I asked? WELL DO IT NOW. I'll wait.

This here is a drink that myself and the adorable DJ HawaiianSkirt have been working on for a while now. It's still not perfect, because even cream can't tame the alcoholy kick of the Goldschlager, but damn if this isn't tasty. The Cognac provides just enough of a counterpoint to the Goldschlager such that it's not simply a "Goldschlager milkshake".


ORIGINAL REMIX


Hugo Bar Cocktail

1 oz table cream
1 oz Goldschlager
1 oz flavorful brandy, or Cognac

Shake ingredients in a shaker full of ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish in some way with your favorite cinnamon candy. (jelly beans pictured here)

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

New Scoreboard: Angel's Share 2, DJ 1

It's that time again. I opened the spigot and drained the grape spirit out of my little aging barrel. The liquid had been in there for a little over 4 months.


If you recall, this time around I had "brandy" sitting in the barrel. In reality, it was actually a mixture of two spirits; in order to not ultimately have over-aged brandy on my hands, I originally mixed an aged Cognac with a young pisco and poured it in to age and mingle a bit more. What I had in the barrel was essentially a composite grape spirit.

The good news is that my "desperate swipe" at the Angel's Share was effective. And I don't know why. Before the aging, I topped off my grape spirit mixture in the barrel with a generous pour of high proof grain alcohol. I'm not sure why... perhaps I thought that upping the proof of the overall mixture would somehow slow the evaporation. Well, it seems to have worked. While I only aged the stuff for about 15% less time than I usually do, I ended up with over 150% of the expected end volume. Can someone explain this to me?

Well, the spirit's time in the barrel has yielded something for which I was thoroughly unprepared. The character of the end product is entirely different than anything that's been in the barrel previously. This is why aging at home is so fun and riveting. Here is a picture of the stuff housed in a beautiful re-used bottle from Tommy Bahama rum. I have another 750mL bottle that's half-filled with the rest of it.





Composite grape spirit, at-home aged

Smell

Its aroma didn't surprise me. It manages to have what is apparently my barrel's signature smell; it smells of wood and wood only. In fact, by its aroma, I could have mistaken this for the rum that was previously aged in this barrel. I had to ask myself "What bearing will this trend have on the development of the spirit's flavor?"

Taste

(The answer to the above question is "None at all.")

The spirit falls onto the tongue very dry, much like the previous products of this barrel. It's a characteristic dry/sweet combo that this wood has been known to develop. It spreads across to coat the tongue. Next I taste an ever-so-slight twinge of vanilla wafting up to my palate, if I concentrate hard enough.

Despite the fact that most of this product (in terms of volume) consists of Cognac, the mouth feel of the stuff is decidedly of a young spirit, like the pisco. (Perhaps because the Cognac used was on the bright and fruity side.) Despite the initial woodiness on the tongue, wood is absent from the rest of the tasting, instead replaced by a biting grassiness and spiciness. The swallow is peppery, as if it's refusing to be ignored, and I sense the slightest cinnamon aftertaste.

Conclusion

I'm at a loss for words as to what this "brandy" has become.

When spirits of all types are initially distilled and still clear and young, they often have flavor descriptors such as: spicy, pungent, peppery, grassy, rough, fiery, earthy, etc. The concept of aging spirits in barrels was designed to mellow these traits in spirits, while also building more complex flavors from the wood and evaporation. Well, it seems that in this case, the opposite was achieved.

Into the barrel was put a combination of fairly smooth, sweet, and fruity grape spirits and out of it has come something spicy, earthy, and more rough than before. This time around, the barrel imparted little to no flavor into its contents, but rather coaxed out completely different flavors that may have been hiding there all along. Fascinating.

I'm dying to see what's going to happen to the next barrel batch...



Into the barrel now is going a mixture of apple brandy. Yes, you could consider this a "seasonal" aging since the clock just struck "autumn", but don't forget that spirits keep almost indefinitely! The word "seasonal" has no power here!

Anyway, most of this new mix is comprised of Captain Applejack and Laird's Straight Apple Brandy, both 750mL, both bottled in bond, and both 100 proof. Frankly, it's my shoddy understanding that Captain Applejack is simply a Laird's product under a different label. In fact, they have the same bottling plant code in the fine print on the back of their bottles. Regardless, they are actually different products. The straight apple brandy is through-and-through an aged eau de vie of apples. The applejack is a combination of straight apple brandy and neutral spirit (vodka) distilled from apples. Their characters are different, and I wanted both in the barrel.

I topped the contents off with two more things: the grain alcohol that was so useful in combating the Angel's Share, and about 200mL of Chateau O'Brien apple wine, produced right here in the Commonwealth of Virginia. The wine is at the same time intensely sweet and intensely tart, and should liven up the other spirits.

After the grape spirit experiment, I have absolutely no clue what to expect on how the character of this apple spirit will change. Will its flavor get darker and deeper or will the barrel once again reveal some more feisty flavors? Will any wood flavors be imparted? Has the little barrel finally lost its ability to traditionally "age" spirits inside it? I'll let you know in a few months.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Scoreboard: Angel's Share 2, DJ 0


Time flies. The day has come again for me to evacuate the liquor from my small barrel and see what's what.

In the barrel this time was 2L of Cruzan Estate Light rum. What has come out of the barrel is a rum that's darker in color (big surprise!) and its aroma, as I expected, smells highly of wood. But wait a second... why is the rum gone??? Where did my rum go? Damn those angels... the angel's share is certainly a mighty opponent, I've come to learn. It's official: aging things in this barrel for about 5 months tends to yield results that are less than half of the original volume. It's time to taste the rum!



Cruzan Estate Light, at-home aged

Smell

Mostly of wood, though it doesn't taste of whiskey, which I feared. There's not much smoke either, like I predicted. What we have here is an aroma mostly of dry wood, with a little rum seeping through.

Taste

Honestly, this stuff is fantastic. It's certainly doesn't taste much like a traditional rum. Most of the rum's original flavor is gone... pummeled by the wood. [insert dirty joke here] Much like its aroma, only the slightest rum taste remains as a base, and atop it is a full woody flavor that manages to taste completely of itself, and barely smokey. Although "dry" and "sweet" tend to be opposing terms in the world of wine and spirits, this result manages to be both. The intense woodiness of this stuff lends a very dry mouth feel that's almost bitter, but at the end of sip there's a glorious sweetness that rests and spreads on the tongue. Quite honestly, I don't know where the sweetness came from: this seems sweeter than the Cruzan source material, and I don't think that there would be any sweetness in the barrel. Perhaps the enormous loss of rum via evaporation has concentrated what sugars were there. All I know is that this result is excellent, and I'm very pleased with it.




That next passenger for this barrel is a mixture of grape spirits. I've put in 1 liter of Ansac VS cognac, which is one of the best brandy values I know. It's on the fruity side, with a deep flavor and a sweet finish. Then I poured 750mL of Machu Pisco. Pisco is distilled from grapes like brandy, but is aged less for a more vegetal and spicy taste. Its aroma and flavor are fruity... it almost smells like apple juice to me. I chose to add pisco so that the overall contents of the barrel wasn't too old before I began to age it even more. The resulting mixture had the darkness of a younger gold rum, and I'm ok with that. Oh yeah, and I also added about 200mL of 190 proof grain alcohol... call it my desperate swipe at the angel's share.

Monday, March 29, 2010

Recipe and Rating: Twelve Mile Limit, take 2

About two months ago, I made a cocktail that Rumdood posted on his site in order to provide my take on it. My take turned out to be misguided, for both the venerable Frederic and the Dood himself made comments on my post, declaring my rum choice inferior.

This goes to show how much variability there is in the "rum" category. I had used Appleton Estate White, a fairly decent light Jamaican rum, but apparently it didn't pack the "punch" that the drink needed. I was advised to use a rum stronger in flavor, and so I've gone overboard in this advice by using Neisson Blanc.

Neisson Blanc is rhum agricole, which is basically a type of rum made in the French West Indies fermented from raw sugar cane juice, instead of molasses. The result is usually a high proof fiery mixture which tastes grassy and rubbery instead of smooth and spicy. What's worse, I'm using a blanc rhum agricole, which is "rested" in barrels for only a few months, while even the lightest white rums are usually aged much longer. The resting is used more so that sulfuric compounds can evaporate from the distillate, not for aging. The product of all this is a harsh spirit which tastes entirely of its source material, and is not favored by spirit novices (if the past rum tasting that I hosted with friends is any indication). So here I go, trying the drink again with this very very different r(h)um.




Twelve Mile Limit


1 oz white rum (used Neisson Blanc)
.5 oz brandy (used Salignac VS cognac)
.5 oz rye whiskey (used Old Overholt)
.5 oz grenadine (used 1-2-3 Cocktails brand... all natural with cane sugar)
.5 oz lemon juice (fresh squeezed)

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.


What a difference. When last time I could almost only taste lemon, now I can taste everything. It's as if the lemon juice needed a strong rum to keep it in check, and when done, they both fall to the background. I immediately tasted the cognac, and in the background, the nuttiness of rye. As I said above, rhum agricole is known to be harsh and uninviting, but in this I can only taste its positives; its fire and rubber remain docile as its floral flavors take over. I never thought this one ingredient could change so much, but it did.

Rating: 7/10

Sunday, March 21, 2010

MxMo: Punch

The word "punch" means many things today, and almost none of them grasp the word's original meaning. As a man proudly built from the little juice boxes of his childhood, I still appreciate the high fructose corn syrup- and red #3-laden products on store shelves which call themselves "punch". I don't really care to talk much about the evolution of punch, but I do care to talk about how this month has a punch-themed Mixology Monday, hosted by Hobson's Choice. The theme was inspired by cocktail and spirit legend David Wondrich, who does care to talk about the evolution of punch... in his new book.

I've wound back the clock a bit this time to make a traditional 18th Century British punch, one of the original iterations of the stuff. Word has it (thanks to Wondrich and others) that the concept of punch originated with the British Royal Navy, when Naval Officers' wine stores began to spoil before their voyages had concluded. Thirsty and irritable, they eventually began mixing spirits (which didn't spoil) with other palatable flavors to create potable mixtures which lended the desired effects. They used whatever they had around; as we know, the British Royal Navy covered alot of ground by 1800. Arrack from the Pacific, rum from the caribbean, and citrus fruits from the tropics were usually included. In fact, the first versions of grog could be considered punch, in this sense. Punches generally had the same low proof of wine so as to mimic its easy consumption.

What we're making today isn't the officer's punch, but rather the kind that was probably drunk by the nobles back in England. The punches were indeed prepared in bowls and imbibed communally during social events. The punch that we're aiming for is the sort that was probably drunk at parties during the latter quarter of the 1700s; while the melodies of Johann Sebastian Bach played in the background, stodgy aristocrats and politicians would sip their punch and perhaps complain about names like Washington, Adams, Franklin, and Greene. By this time, rum from Jamaica was imported regularly, as well as various fruits from the tropics, and so we're comfortable with making a punch that uses the familiar ingredients from the Old World, yet also a few of the exotic, the kind to which they would have had a bit of access.

I say "we" because joining me for this venture is my friend Remington, after whose name we shall fittingly name our punch. We researched various old-style punch recipes and settled on our own combination of ingredients that we feel are fairly period, and in a combination that is in the realm of a proper punch. It's not the simplest or quickest drink to make, but we believe its authenticity warrants making a small batch, just once...


ORIGINAL REMIX


Remington Punch

**This recipe can be easily halved. Don't forget to halve both the ingredients and the amounts of water involved.**


Brew
4 cups water
24 cloves
8 slices orange
8 slices lemon
12 chunks pineapple

Tea
2 cups water
2 bags (or servings of loose leaf) black tea
2 bags (or servings of loose leaf) green tea
5-6 tsp demerara or white sugar (depends on taste)

Spirits
1 cup dark rum
1 cup brandy
.5 cup scotch

Step 1: Brew the fruit and cloves mixture by adding the orange slices, the lemon slices, and the cloves to a small pot. Add the water (for the brew), and bring to a boil. Let it boil for 2-3 minutes, then turn off the heat. Wait till it cools completely, strain, and put into your punch bowl.

Step 2: Bring the next amount of water (for the tea) to a boil, add tea, and let brew for about 6 minutes. Remove the tea leaves/bags, and dissolve the sugar into the brewed tea. Pour into your punch bowl.

Step 3: Add spirits to your punch bowl.

Serve in small glasses or tea cups, with the optional garnish of an orange and/or lemon slice, and grated nutmeg. Serve at room temperature or warm (not hot).


The flavor of this punch is dry and complex. The strongly-brewed tea adds the underlying body of the drink, lending a bitterness and dryness that defines it. The brewed water adds the slightest bit of fruitiness and clove, which supports the tea, and doesn't overpower it. The brandy gives its acidity and backbone, the dark rum falls to the background with just a bit of smokiness, and the scotch adds a bit more smoke and a pungent kick that perfects every sip. This is a balanced drink, perfect if you'd like to curse some Yankee rebels and eat some scones.



Of similar fare is the old-style milk punch. Milk punch has many iterations, from the whiskey and milk concoctions to the complicated and old school punches that Erik over at the Underhill-Lounge makes, where milk is used as a curdling agent and for its lactic acid! What we have here today is a recipe using mostly European ingredients, and was inspired by this recipe at Saveur, but with a few minor changes.



Milk Punch


1 oz half-and-half
2 oz whole or 2% milk
1.5 oz brandy
1 dash absinthe
1 dash green Chartreuse
nutmeg

Shake all the ingredients except the nutmeg in a shaker, then strain into a punch glass filled with ice. Garnish with nutmeg.

The nutmeg is what makes this drink so good... if you don't have it, don't make it. The acidity and fruitiness of the brandy cuts through the dairy, and the two green spirits play support. This is a really fun drink... great for brunches!

Saturday, June 13, 2009

MxMo: Ginger






This is my first Mixology Monday, whose theme this time is ginger. It is presently being hosted by Rumdood. Do yourself a favor and check out his site.




The Summit Cocktail

1 wide piece of lime peel
.5 inch long piece of ginger root, sliced thinly into medallions
1.5 oz Cognac
2 oz lemonade, lemon soda, or bitter lemon soda
peel of cucumber for garnish

Muddle the lime peel, ginger, and .75 oz of the Cognac in an old fashioned glass. Fill glass halfway with ice cubes and stir. Add the remaining Cognac and the lemonade. Rub the edge of the glass with the cucumber peel's underside, drop it into the drink, and stir one last time.




At first glance, the Summit doesn't seem like a very special cocktail: the classic combination of lemon and ginger, lime peel just to be different, a spirit, and the increasingly popular cucumber peel garnish.

However, it must be said that the Summit is quite a good drink. The Cognac most definitely plays well with the others, and if your lemonade isn't too sweet, it can be a devastatingly refreshing concoction.

If a decent drink isn't enough for you, the Summit has an interesting story behind it as well. Its origins, however, lie not in some 1908 hotel bar, but in a 2008 marketing boardroom. Cognac's decline in sales during the past few years has caused the industry to look toward the rest of the spirit markets for inspiration. Namely, that cocktails and mixed drinks account for much of the liquor sales nowadays, and that most of these are being drunk by young people. Aware of its image as sipped by smarmy old-timers who actually know the difference between brandy and Cognac, the Bureau National Interprofessionnel du Cognac (BNIC) figured that it needed to make its products' appeal to younger crowds via cocktails, and ideally, through one specific cocktail which youngsters could request by name (something which Bacardi, for example, has used to full effect with the mojito in the past).

In a move not unlike the "Got Milk?" ads spun by the milk farming industry and with marketing clout as seemingly strong as any, the BNIC summoned a score of top mixologists from around the word to congregate and brainstorm a new and salient cocktail that was delicious, noticeably containing Cognac in flavor and color, and easy to make. What they finally produced was the Summit, a not-unusual cocktail except for the fact that it curiously combines fairly common components with Cognac.

The advertising blitz continues with a website: http://www.cognacsummit.com. With beautiful pictures, indy music, and a design so slick that it rivals that of large company websites, it's fairly clear that the Cognac producers mean business (literally).

So, have they succeeded?

At making a delicious drink that looks and tastes like Cognac and is easy to prepare? Yes, yes they did. However, there's one big problem. I think that the drink is still too complicated to make at the vast majority of bars. Have you ever tried to order a mojito at a bar or restaurant that didn't specialize in them? It's usually not a fruitful venture. Most swamped bartenders will scoff at the idea of picking up a muddler, and most bars don't even stock fresh citrus except for the occasional garnish. More bars further won't take the time for a lime peel, and more still do not stock ginger root. Yeah yeah, I know what you're saying, "But really good bars would have all that, including the time and attention to make it." And you're right. But do those bars contain the kind of clientele which Big Cognac seeks to seize? Probably not.

Of course, I'm talking about the bar culture in the United States. I can't speak much to European bars, but I can't imagine that their 20-something rabble hang out in 4-star hotel bars, or alternatively, I can't imagine that their dives' and pubs' bartenders would have the time, patience, or ingredients to make the Summit.

Overall, a great drink, but if anything, I think it might be unveiling a bit of the disconnect between serious mixology and, well, just trying to get a decent drink at your local bar.