Cocktail Hour, a webcomic by Scraps

With our trip through the Alphahol complete, at least this round, I thought it’d be nice to take a break from cocktails and, instead, discuss a gentler subject: wine. Since I’m more a fan of reds than white, this month I’ll pick a red a week and chat a little about it. Hopefully you’ll share your favorites with me in the comments.

Beaujolais is a Burgundy wine made from the Gamay grape in the southern portion of the French Burgundy district. It’s not generally an aged wine, with 5 years being the upper reaches of it’s optimum life-span. With it’s very fruity nose and hints of dark cherry, the flavor can be fruity and light or oaky with a hint of pepper. It’s definitely a dry red, not sweet, with a light body that is meant to be served chilled, but not ice-cold.

Like many of the Burgundy table wines, Beaujolais is a good all-meal wine as it pairs well with grilled red meats, white fish, cheeses and cold meat dishes without overpowering any of it.

My go-to Beaujolais is the Louis Jadot Beaujolais-Villages. The one in house right now is a 2005, so an older Beaujolais but according to the website it was an excellent year weather-wise for reds which is probably why this one is still so very drinkable. What I love about it is that it works well to cook with and to drink, is easily spotted by it’s black ink on yellowed parchment label and can be found in my local grocery store for under $20 a bottle.

Make sure to check out their website for more information about this vineyard and it’s history. I love that the vintage notes go all the way back to 1860 and that they seem honest: not every year was a good year, but for most they were able to find something worthwhile in the grapes. Like the 1877 vintage where the vines were affected by frost but still describe the grapes as “elegant.” Or the 1915 vintage that mentions the war and that women were largely responsible for the harvest.

Okay, barflies! I’m going to wrap up this little trip through the Alphahol in one fell swoop of a post for a couple of reasons.

a) we’re at the “difficult” letters, and
b) I wanna talk about the Zombie before Halloween instead of 2 weeks after.

So indulge me: 3 cocktails in rapid fire!

XYZ Cocktail

1.5 oz Rum of your choice
3/4 oz Cointreau
1/4 oz Lemon juice

Shake over ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Whew! This one is strong–of course, it’s mostly booze. If you like a softer drink, try this with caution, and because there is so little to work with substituting a generic Triple Sec for the Cointreau is going to result in a sub par Xperience.

Your Favorite Aunt

1 oz Gin
1 oz Brandy
1 oz Sweet vermouth
1/2 oz Lemon juice
1/2 oz Simple syrup

Shake over ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry.

Discovered this one while trying out sweet vermouth recipes and it’s actually quite tasty. It is, again, high on the alcohol and short of mixers but it’s a good sipping drink.

And, finally…

The Zombie

1 oz White rum
1 oz Amber rum
1 oz Dark rum
3/4 oz Lime juice
3/4 oz Pineapple juice
1/2 oz Apricot brandy
1/2 oz Papaya juice
1/2 oz Simple syrup
1/2 151-proof Rum

Combine all but the 151 in a cocktail shaker over ice and shake vigorously–as if you were running from a zombie–then pour into a very tall glass (don’t strain). Float the 151 on top of the drink and garnish elaborately–a spring of mine, lime wheels and cherry all dusted with confectioners sugar; orange and pineapple slices or some other tropical fruit. Serve with a straw–sipping from the top will give you a mouthful of the 151 and not much else, not the desired result.

A bit complex but the taste is worth it. If you have trouble finding papaya juice, puree or nectar (as I did) juicing your own isn’t as difficult as it seems. Sure, it’s not like a citrus fruit that’s juice is easily available, but if you don’t have an electric juicer, here’s how I got it done.

Juicing a Papaya

1. Slice the papaya in half, lengthwise, and remove the black seeds and any light-colored membranes.
2. Slice each half into quarters to make it easier to separate the pink flesh from the skin and lighter rind.
3. Cut up the long slices and place in a decent-sized bowl with high sides.
4. Crush the fruit with a muddler, pestle or wooden spoon until no longer solid.
5. Strain through a fine mesh strainer into a smaller bowl, working the mash gently with a spoon to get the maximum juice out.

Now, I got about an ounce of juice from a quarter of an 8-inch papaya and it was a bit pulpy so, as I sipped the resulting drink, did get a bit separated but it didn’t make the drink at all unpleasant to imbibe. I’ve read that you can also substitute orange juice but I think I’d go with mango juice (something generally easier to locate) before going with the more mundane OJ.

Of course, this year’s Pumpkin Party is going to be a brunch, so I think I’ll leave the Zombies off the guest list. Instead, for those who wish to imbibe, I’ll be serving Bloody Marys, Mi-moan-sas, and Boo-linis. Have a good holiday, folks, stay safe and drink responsibly.

Whisk(e)y Sours, that is–we’re up to ‘w’ in our travel through the Alphahol and that means delving into the oak barrels and coming up with what exactly?

I may have mentioned before that I’m not a big whisk(e)y fan. Until very recently I couldn’t stand the stuff and wouldn’t drink anything made with it thanks to an unfortunate encounter at a wine and spirits tasting. The bourbon I was served burned my throat, robbed me of breath and made my eyes water–it probably didn’t help that I’d been drinking a lot of sweet wines prior, but the port I tried afterwards smoothed things over between me and the wine guy. At any rate, I’ve come to respect well-made whisk(e)ys.

To ‘e’ or not to ‘e’, what’s in a spelling?

Ever wonder what the difference between whisky and whiskey is? At first I thought it was just an American versus European style thing but that’s not it because Irish varieties are spelled with the ‘e’ but Scotch without. True, most people who mean Scotch just say Scotch, but it’s still whisky so it counts. In North America, Tennessee, Kentucky and the other USA varieties add the ‘e’ while Canadian whisky does not. Other than who uses it and who doesn’t, there’s really not much more to it.

So What’s the Real Difference?

Whiskey is pretty much any grain spirit that’s aged in oak for as much time as needed to develop the flavors or scents necessary to be a pleasant drink. The type of grain makes a big difference in the finished product, also how it’s treated. Scotch is traditionally prized in the Single Malt category, made only with malted barley whereas Bourbon uses primarily corn and, in the case of Sour Mash, reserves a portion of the previous fermentation to add to the next batch in a method that reminds me, in turns, of sourdough starter and the Amish Friendship Bread that gets passed around from time to time.

(This, of course, is gross over-simplification. I’m just trying to distill it into a highlight reel for the sake of an overview.)

Mixing With It

So, probably the most common Whiskey drink most folks think of is the Whiskey Sour which, as I understand it, is generally made with Bourbon. Well, here’s the thing: you can make a Sour out of pretty much any base liquor so I decided to make a Scotch Sour and a Bourbon Sour and see how they compared.

Whiskey Sour

1.5 oz Whisk(e)y
1 oz Simple syrup
3/4 oz Lemon juice (as fresh as possible)

Combine over ice and shake vigorously. Strain into a chilled old fashioned glass and garnish with an orange slice and a cherry (also known as a flag).

Both the Bourbon and Scotch sours were made in exactly the same way and here’s how, for me, they compared. Visually, the Bourbon Sour is darker than the Scotch Sour–no worries about labeling the glasses for this test. The Bourbon also has a stronger smell (I used Jim Bean Kentucky Sour Mash Bourbon) and, as one would expect, a stronger flavor. More insistent. The Scotch Sour (made with Glenfiddich Single Malt 12 Year) was lighter in color and smoother in flavor, it took both the sweet and the sour in stride and retained it’s crisp pear notes (seriously, before last month I would have NEVER thought to think pears when I thought Scotch).

Obviously I preferred the Glenfiddich Sour, it’s much more palatable. I think I’ll keep the Sour Mash for the Bourbon Chicken.

So, this past week I actually completed the coursework and tests for my BAC: BarSmarts Advanced Certification and, having assured my mother than no, I am not planning to become a bartender (not that there’s anything wrong with that), I gotta admit: I learned some stuff!

Granted, I enrolled in the course for precisely that reason. When I started this Friday blog feature I thought I had a pretty decent grasp of the basics, only to find out how much I had absolutely no clue I didn’t know. And I still have quite a ways to go, but the BarSmarts Wired course started to fill in the gaping chasms in the cocktail portion of my brain (hmm… wonder what part that would be, actually, lol) and the empty spots on my home bar. The lists of even classic drinks that I still have to try as well as the bottles that must be added to my collection now that I know of their existence is long, very long.

One such nugget of information that truly surprised me was the existence and use of Sweet Vermouth. If vermouth rings a bell it’s probably in the context of the notions many have about just how little of it should be included in a Dry Martini (anywhere from a capful to rinse the ice to a nod in the bottle’s general direction). I will say here that I do not like the Dry Martini, I do not like it, Jenn I am. I do not like it with the vodka, I do not like it with the gin. I do not like them shaken nor stirred nor dirty with an olive served. I do not like the Dry Martini.

BUT! Did you know that in it’s original (late 1800s) form, not only was a martini composed of equal parts gin and vermouth it was made, of all things, with SWEET Vermouth. With a dash of orange bitters as well.

Original Martini

2 oz Gin
2 oz Sweet vermouth
dash of Orange bitters

Combine in a mixing glass with ice, shake well and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Rather than clear, this martini is actually a color somewhere between red and iced tea, the flavor is far more mellow and palatable (to me, at least) than those nasty ol’ Dry Martinis I’ve had in the past and this is totally thanks to the Vermouth.

Being a fortified wine, if you ever taste Vermouth straight (which is not something I’d tried before now) you can definitely detect the grape base beneath the varied aromatics. Strangely enough, the Sweet Vermouth reminded me of a beef stew sort of warmth and cozy feeling–a good example of the elusive umami (that fifth flavor or taste you may have heard of). Aside from the soup reminder, it’s also reminiscent of a tawny port which probably makes more sense than my first impression. Generally I sway towards the ruby and cherry ports, but the Vermouth was certainly tasty on it’s own and I can see why it was originally conceived as an aperitif.

More experiments with this new-to-me flavor-toy are forthcoming, I can assure you. After tracking down some Campari I plan to try out several other classic Sweet Vermouth cocktails, as well as play with the novel idea presented that sherries or ports could, in fact, be substituted for the vermouth in cocktails.

A side note: amusingly enough, as I composed this post, Pandora graced me with a track to fit the mood, as it were: Tanita Tikaram’s “Twist In My Sobriety“

So much for the cold snap! While it may be snowing in parts of the US, in Florida it was triple digits and the only way to make that sort of heat bearable is with something cold and slushy. Enter the frozen beverages most often served with a cute little umbrella perched on top.

I don’t think it’s out of line to claim that the Pina Colada is the most often thought-of drink that comes with one of those petite parasols and, when we were getting ready for our cruise (yes, I’m totally milking that trip for every ounce of happiness and material possible) I read about a drink called the Miami Vice: half Pina Colada, half Strawberry Daiquiri. Yum!

Now, most folks would just pull out the rum and the pre-made mixes to go with the ice and the blender, but fresh is almost always better so here’s a version of each that will put you in a tropical mood no matter what your climate:

Pina Colada for 1

4 oz Pineapple juice
2 oz coconut cream
1/2 c pineapple chunks
2 Tbsp shredded or grated coconut
1 oz Pineapple rum
1 oz Dark rum
1 oz cream or half-and-half
2 c ice

Combine all ingredients and blend until smooth.

Strawberry Frozen Daiquiri for 1

1 c Strawberries, hulled and halved if fresh
1 oz White rum
1 oz Dark rum
2 c ice

Combine and blend until smooth.

Now, a few notes. Coconut cream is not the same as coconut milk, you may have to search for the cream. If you use just the coconut milk that you’d normally cook with the drink will be lacking in a bit of flavor and smoothness but it can be done (using coconut rum might help the flavor aspect). If strawberries are out of season, use frozen, or if they just don’t have a full flavor, adding a shot of strawberry pucker–yes, really–can help the overall flavor and it’s still better than using a mix.

To make the Miami Vice, pour the Pina Colada and Strawberry Daiquiri simultaneously into a tall glass. Garnish with a pineapple chunk on one side, a strawberry on the other, and–of course–a cute little umbrella, if you have one handy.

I’ve had my head buried in alcohol history and lore, lately, and in the most recent reading, the Toddy came up. With the beginnings of a nip in the air (okay, so it’s our annual Fall cool snap that will disappear soon, but let a girl dream) the Toddy sounded like an excellent subject to tackle instead of whatever else I’d been thinking of for ‘t’.

Toddies are an old, old, old drink and, in their original form, were nothing more than water and liquor, with maybe some sugar added. They’re not much different now, with the addition of some sort of spice and maybe a bit of lemon to round things out.

I read a lot as a child and when you tend to read old books, that take place centuries prior and maybe in other countries, it’s easy to develop some fanciful notions about toddies and, especially, their healing properties as they were often given to characters who’d come town with a cold or had gotten caught in a terrible storm while on their horse. So, several years ago, when coming down with yet another case of something or other, I decided to try a Toddy to see if it would help. Of course, I didn’t have brandy in the house, but I could have sworn I’d read about someone using Bourbon, and I had that, so I brewed some tea (tea used to be considered a spice, by the way), adding a cinnamon stick, a lemon slice, some honey and a shot of bourbon to it.

It wasn’t exactly what I’d thought it would be.

Whether it was the harshness of the Bourbon (which I generally keep around for cooking with, not drinking) or the bitterness of the tea–or both–the drink needed a lot of sweetening before it was palatable and it just wasn’t the pleasant, soothing experience I had hoped for.

This go round, wiser and with a better-stocked bar, I skipped the tea, used brandy (okay, I used a brandy-based liqueur–Tuaca–that I knew I liked) and used simple syrup for my sweet. I also just used a lemon twist instead of a lemon slice, and I think it makes a difference.

Tuaca Toddy

1.5 oz Tuaca liqueur (an Italian brandy-based liqueur with hints of vanilla and citrus)
.5 oz Simple syrup
1 Lemon peel, 2″ long
dash of Cloves
2.5 oz Hot water

In a mug or other handled glass (this is warm, remember?) combine the Tuaca (or the brandy of your choice)  and syrup. Twist the lemon peel (try not to get too much pith when you shave it away from the fruit) to release the oils and drop it in, followed by a sprinkling of ground cloves (you could use nutmeg, if you prefer, or even cinnamon but I’d stick to a little and not use the stick–it can be too strong). Top the drink off with the very hot (not quite boiling) water, stir it around a bit and drink when the temperature is level enough not to scald your tongue.

Even though this is a favorite home remedy for colds and chills in many areas, keep in mind that alcohol can dehydrate you so you should supplement it with plenty of plain water if you choose to try this at home.

* * *

And speaking of health, a gentle reminder that October is Breast Cancer Awareness month and I’m still raising funds for my local Making Strides Against Breast Cancer campaign. “Support the tWINs” (the team I’m on) through my support link and get a special print. More details at the link, and thank you.

A fruited wine beverage, Sangria has as many variations as it has makers. The downside, generally speaking, is that to make good Sangria you need time. Namely, time for the fruit to mix and meld with the other ingredients. But what if you want Sangria now, and you’ve got all the parts but you’d rather drink it tonight as opposed to tomorrow? Are you doomed to a passable but not spectacular bottled version? Is there a happy medium between 8-hours and a screw-top bottle?

I think so.

In fact, my theory is that you can “fake” the steeping period by the application of gentle heat to the fruit and any other items you are adding to the wine base (because in addition to a variety of fruits and their juices, brandy, spices or even some flavored vodka could be used). In this scenario, you could then have a very flavorful Sangria in an hour or so, instead of overnight. Plus, you can make just enough for a drink or two (or a person or two) without needing to make an entire pitcher.

Red Sangria for 2

Combine in a small saucepan:

1 lime, cut into slices
2 strawberries, hulled and halved
a couple chunks of pineapple
1 Tbsp white sugar
2 Tbsp hot water
Small cinnamon stick (optional)

Bring this mix to a gentle simmer then reduce heat to low. Use a muddler or wooden spoon to gently break up the fruit. After about 10 minutes, add

1-2 oz vanilla vodka

turn off the burner and let the mixture sit for another 10-15 minutes.

Pour the fruit mix (sans cinnamon stick) into a glass jar or carafe or divide between two tall glasses. Pour in

4-6 oz. red table wine per glass

and refrigerate for 1 hour.  Serve with more fruit, if desired, and enjoy your drink!

Variation: White Sangria for 2

Substitute a handful of blueberries, raspberries and blackberries for the lemon and pineapple in the red version and skip the cinnamon stick. Use Apple Brandy instead of the vodka and a white wine for the red.

Compared to the bottled Sangria I picked up for comparison, both of my versions (actually, all four since I tried each fruit/liquor combo with each wine just out of curiosity) were less sweet than the pre-made. You could add orange juice (red) or white grape juice (white) if you wanted a fruitier, sweeter beverage or add club soda or some other fizzy drink for a bubbly version.

Because there are so many yummy ways to drink it!

When flipping through the index of an extensive beverage reference it became quite apparent that I have many fond memories associated with rum, in one form or another:

When I was just a child, about 4 or 5 I’d say, my Aunt Marie was a big fan of Pina Coladas. My grandmother’s living room was fitted with a well-stocked wet bar and, before she added the rum, my Aunt would pour off some of the sweet, pineapple-coconut smoothie into a mini parfait-style glass so I could be a part of the evening.

Later, growing up in prize-winning strawberry country we’d attend or come back for the Strawberry Festival each April. At this festival would be all manner of strawberry concoctions, confections, crafts and contestants (farmer and pageant alike), including the ever-present Strawberry Daiquiri. In fact, if you ever find yourself in Ponchatoula, Louisiana (now fairly well-known for it’s antiques), stop in at Paul’s Cafe for the most strawberry-laden, smooth daiquiris (virgin or not) ever experienced.

As a newlywed and aspiring baker (pre-Culinary School) I had the ambition to make fruit cakes for our first family Christmas. No, not the brick-o-candied-fruit-and-nut doorstops, an actual cake studded with walnuts and dried apples and soaked for 3 months in dark rum. Of course, they were too good to hold that long and we gobbled them before they were sufficiently convivial.

Rum & Coke (aka Cuba Libre) was an easy drink to order at the bar and tasty without being too strong if you didn’t want it to be. Flavored rums (whether spiced, pineapple or coconut varieties) worked well in this combination, as well. If it was rum, I was willing to try it back during my clubbing years.

More recently, at Trader Vic’s in Atlanta, Georgia, I decided to try the Fogcutter, a tall, tart tiki drink ripe with rum and lime. It was, especially on top of the Mai Tai and the multiple-course meal consumed, impossible to finish but the waiter offered to put it into a go-cup rather than waste it. (We were staying just upstairs in the Hilton, of course, Atlanta does not have the open container laws that one finds in New Orleans.)

So what to make this week to extol the virtues of rum? Since all rum is a product of sugar cane (be it in the form of cane juice or molasses), it’s no wonder that most rum drinks are sweet. As sugarcane was originally an island crop, it’s also no surprise that fruit juices usually play a large part. We’ve discussed the daiquiri, the mojito and even the Trader Vic’s Mai Tai in previous posts so I wanted something a little different for this week. To that end, I bring you two lovely drinks that both happen to use dark rum.

Scurvy Cure

3 parts Pineapple juice
1 part Amaretto liqueur
1 part Dark rum

Pour in a short glass over ice and stir.

This was originally called the Nutty-C in AJ Rathbun’s Good Spirits but both Todd & I felt it was a bit too strong. Not the rum, the amaretto. Also, Todd wasn’t crazy about the color of the drink which, thanks to the pineapple juice, is sort of a murky brown. Adding an additional part pineapple juice mellows the almond out and makes the color more orange though I still think it looks like heavily-lemoned iced tea.

The second drink is also from Good Spirits, and similarly tweaked. Originally intended to be a blended drink, I really prefer drink on the rocks but this required a skewing of the mixers to keep the balance that the blended ice would have afforded. From what was once the Taboo, I give you

The Unspoken

2 oz Dark rum
.75 oz Simple syrup
.5 oz Pineapple juice
2.5 oz Cranberry juice
.5 oz Lemon juice

Pour over ice and stir. Garnish with a chunk of pineapple if you like.

Surprisingly, the Scurvy Cure is sweeter than the Unspoken, despite the inclusion of simple syrup and more juices in the latter.

Incidentally, September 19th is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Either of these drinks (or any other frothy rum concoctions) would be ideal beverages with which to celebrate. So mix one (or more) up, pop in a Pirate movie or three and indulge in a few Arr’s and Aye Matey’s with the rest of the world.

This post was brought to you by the letter Q, not exactly an easy one to match in the Alphahol so I went with a tried and true favorite: Tonic Water, which is flavored with (among other things) quinine.

Apparently, the Gin & Tonic habit began as a way for the British of the East India Company in the like to improve the flavor of the strongly flavored Tonic (what we get now has a far lower concentration than the original) which was used as a preventative against Malaria. Now, for those who don’t especially _like_ Gin, you might be thinking that Tonic must have been all sorts of bitter if Gin made it more palatable (which was exactly Todd’s thought). I’m not sure I’d like the full-strength stuff myself, but I’m quite the fan of what I’ve had so far.

When looking up things to serve with Tonic Water, other than Gin or Vodka, I came across all sorts of ______ Tonic–pretty much any spirit plus Tonic Water and there you go. Still, others got a bit more inventive. Take for instance:

Melon Tonic

1 oz Vodka (I used vanilla, of course)
1 oz Melon liqueur
1 oz Tonic water
dash Lemon juice

Stir together in a low-ball glass and sip.

Now, this one, to me, needed a bit more tonic water to balance out the cloyingly sweet melon (and I like melon drinks) but nonetheless tastes like a melted snow-cone with a kick. Definitely one to keep around. I also found a half-gin & [grapefruit] juice, half-tonic mixture that was okay (rather just have the Gin & Juice, personally) but the surprise favorite was this:

Southampton

Tonic water
Squeeze of lime
Several dashes of bitters

Stir lime and bitters (use as much as you like, 3 dashes was recommended and seemed okay for a short glass) into tonic and sip on a hot day in place of a cool breeze.

When I say surprise, Todd even liked this one best out of the three we tried tonight and he’s not a tonic fan. Bitters kinda remind me of Worcestershire sauce (in a good way) and that slightly warm flavor added to the chilled Tonic and lime made for a very tasty drink. Might even be a good brunch alternative for a Bloody Mary for those (like me) who are sensitive to tomato juice in any sort of quantity.

Finally, I know I’ve mentioned this before but I have to again, it just wouldn’t be right not to. Fred and Friends makes wonderfully quirky kitchen gadgets and the Gin and Titonic ice cube molds are no exception. I actually found this, in person, at a local game shop last night and have since sunk an icy Titanic and -berg in both mixed drinks and juice. For the truly surreal experience, I’d suggest dunking them into a blue beverage, but in a nice Gin & Tonic it’s just as fun.

A while back–maybe a year or so, that’s pretty long in Internet-years–I was part of a conversation among friends which resulted in the following question: If you had a drink named after you, what would it be called?

Now, this was back when I was a bar novice. I stuck to rum & Cokes, Kahlua & cream (or the stand-by Amaretto Sour), avoided vodka at all costs and didn’t know there were more than 3 or 4 types of rum. And by types, I mean regular (white), dark, spiced and 151. Maybe I didn’t even qualify as a novice, yet, come to think of it. At any rate, I did at least come up with a name for my drink: the Snarky Little Tart.

I also knew enough, or thought I did, that the little should signify a shot or some other small portion and the tart naturally led me to think something from DeKuyper’s Pucker line-up. I was on a serious gin kick at the time, so that would be the base and since this was a drink about me, it should definitely be red, so I was leaning towards watermelon or, more appropriately, cherry pucker. That is until I found pomegranate liqueurs at the store and, thus, the Snarky Little Tart had it’s debut.

Snarky Little Tart

1 Ice cube
1 oz Gin
.5 oz Vanilla cordial
1 oz Pomegranate liqueur
splash of Club soda

Build the drink over the single ice cube in a double-shot or cordial glass. Swirl.

This isn’t a bad drink, especially for the first-time mixologist that I was. But, now, a year or two later (really, time flies, all spent online) and several more experiments under my bar towel, I think it’s time to give the ‘Tart a little more room and a polish.

Trying out the different combinations is almost more fun than sipping the triumphant final drink, so I thought I’d go into what changes I made and why. First was the Vanilla cordial, originally made for me by a friend it’s not something that everyone is going to have on hand and not something I’ve ever made myself. The bottle of vanilla vodka never seems to leave the top of the bar these days, so it was a natural first choice when updating the drink. Second choice was to add some pomegranate juice since I wanted a bit of mixer to cut the straight alcohol and I really wanted to get away from the club soda, even if it was only a splash.

Unfortunately, the vanilla vodka didn’t play as nicely with the rest of the ingredients, it was a bit harsh in some ratios and just too bright in others. Then it dawned on me that the Cordial was a brandy base, and I had a wonderful brandy-vanilla flavor tucked away under the bar in the form of a bottle of Tuaca . This turned out to be the magic bullet that pulled together the different flavors (excepting the vanilla vodka, of course, it was just too pointy, even for Snark). So after about 4 different goes, we finally agreed on a winner:

CHF Snarky Tart

1 oz Gin
1 oz Tuaca
1 oz Pomegranate liqueur
2 oz Pomegranate juice

Combine all ingredients in a shaker half-full of ice and shake with a touch of bitter wit. Quoting some Dorothy Parker wouldn’t go amiss, either.

This slightly more mature version of it’s younger shot sibling retains the tartness, the color and the touch of gin but goes down much smoother and is meant for sipping.

PS-Pomegranate Snark (along with a long derivation that led to Snarky Cheerleader) was another potential name for the spruced-up cocktail.