Drinking in the Time of Corona

A Manhattan in New Jersey

In these topsy-turvy, worrying times, when what should be a source of comfort--namely, the close companionship of friends and the proximity of neighbors--is what could harm us the most, I am going to take on the slightly taboo topic of the delights of drinking alone. 

Seeing that the New York Times wine critic, Eric Asimov, explored this touchy subject and concluded in his article that “solitude and a little wine can send the mind in unexpectedly delightful directions” emboldened me to push through the social stigma and share the pleasures of solo sipping.

Since it’s irresponsible and insensitive to universalize the joys of the solitary tipple, I am going to keep this post centered on me. For many, drinking alone can signal a problem with alcohol. If that is the case for you or anyone you know, please consult this list of sobriety resources for help during the pandemic. For others, it can be the dangerous push down the slippery slope toward harmful and unhealthy habits when the supportive structures of daily routines have been upended. Let’s hope that’s not the case for you, but I want to acknowledge that drinking can often cause more pain than joy.

Now onto the joy of the solitary cocktail. Even before the mandate to shelter in place,  I would regularly enjoy a drink taken alone, just as I do lots of other things on my lonesome. As a single woman, I often have to make a choice: either go at it alone or skip it all together. It’s a question of: See that artsy new film in the theatre solo or not. Travel abroad or not. Cook an ambitious recipe or not. Stir a cocktail or not. 

I say yes to all of the above because in my mind, life is too short to deny myself these enjoyable activities just because I’m a one-woman show. For me there’s great satisfaction  in marking the end of the day by fixing myself a drink. I’ll sip one while I cook a full dinner for myself, another activity that I truly enjoy, and then a second adult beverage while tucking into what I’ve prepared for myself. If I’m watching The Crown, I might even have a pour of scotch after dinner. It’s hard to fight the desire to do so when every character seems to have a tumbler full of one!

I’ll confess that there’s something contradictory about an evening cocktail, as it’s simultaneously loosening and tightening. What I mean by that is that alcohol by its nature relaxes me, but, in an opposite way, it also disciplines me and creates structure. During the work week, I won’t drink until 8pm which means that until then, it’s a work day (something a bit hard to define these days when you’re confined at home all day long) and when I have my drink in hand,it’s the end of that work day and therefore time to relax. 

When the clock strikes 8pm, what am I drinking? Since none of us should be making frequent shopping trips, I have limited myself to stirred cocktails, a category of drinks that don’t call for fruit juice, eggs, or dairy. They’re all booze and thus need nothing from the supermarket, only what’s already in my liquor cabinet. For more on stirred cocktails versus shaken ones, check out this blog post of ours. 

Since one of my quarantine projects is to read my way through a stack of cocktail books, there is no shortage of new recipes for me to try. I’ll start my evening with a tried-and-true, like a gin martini that I’m tweaking, and then move onto something novel from one of the books. It’s fun to experiment, and it’s actually part of my job, though it doesn’t feel like work.

Since this blog post is about being honest about a taboo subject, I am going to admit that this is what I’ve been enjoying most about quarantining, my daily ritual of going out for an evening walk with a friend (at a safe distance) and then returning home on my own to fix a cocktail and dinner and settle into an hour of T.V. For those hours everything seems like it will be okay and we’ll get through this.

A Cocktail for Easter and a Recipe for Joy

Photo Credit: Punch Magazine

We’ve got a fun cocktail idea for Easter. 

Hopefully, we don’t seem insensitive suggesting such a thing. We just can’t help ourselves. We’re all about cocktails, after all.

But it’s not just an irrepressible urge that has us suggesting a cocktail for Easter. It’s also a belief that everyone, should they be able, benefits from taking a moment to mark the holiday. Doing so helps slow down time in a favorable way (in contrast, the days can feel undesirably long during these weeks of sheltering at home!), making an otherwise regular day something special and something memorable, perhaps even joyful.

You can do this even if you are on your own for Easter, or you’re missing your regular crew at the dinner table or if you’re--gasp!-- fed up with the crew you’re stuck with. All you have to do is find some small way to make the day just a bit different from every other day of self-isolation.

For me (Diana) who is completely alone for Easter, this means baking some special treats on Saturday and  delivering them on Sunday morning to some friends in the area, including Paul, to whom I can easily bike:  tahini-sesame bread, hot cross buns, and pecan sticky buns. It’s my hope that these baked goods will in turn help them mark the day as something different and special. I mean, how often are pastries delivered to your home by bike? Once I’m back  home from my bike ride, solo again in my apartment, I'll cook myself a dish that I only prepare on Easter, croxetti with marjoram and pine nut sauce. Why this Ligurian pasta dish? It seems right for the holiday, as the word croxetti derives from the word “cross.” Each year, the accompanying vegetable dish changes, but it’s always something evocative of spring. This year it will be honey-mustard radishes with mustard greens.

There will be a cocktail too, of course, even though it will be a drink taken alone. I don’t have a problem doing that. Like the pasta dish, this cocktail is the same every year, a Corpse Reviver #2 (recipe below). My line of thinking is a bit cheeky, I confess, but I can’t help but believe that the name of the drink is just right for the holy day that celebrates the mystery of the Christian faith, of Jesus rising from the dead. The name actually comes from an historic category of cocktails that we’d now call “hair of the dog,” an alcoholic drink to revive you in the morning after an evening of heavy drinking, to call you back from the dead, so to speak.

It’s not just the name that makes a Corpse Reviver fitting for Easter. Its flavor profile is spot on for this time of year, bright from the lemon, herbaceous from the gin, floral from the Lillet, and invigorating from the touch of absinthe. It’s spring in a glass. 

So, let’s raise that glass in these trying times and create as best we can a little bit of  joy in our lives, whether alone or in the company others.

Happy Easter!

Corpse Reviver #2
Recipe adapted from Death and Co.

3/4 oz gin, preferably Beefeater
3/4 oz Cointreau or orange curacao 
3/4 oz Lillet Blanc or Cocchi Americano
3/4 oz fresh lemon juice
2 dashes absinthe

Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker and shake with ice. Strain into a chilled coupe or cocktail glass.

Cognac and Cocktails: Get Mixing!

Ms. Franky shaking Cognac cocktails. Photo Credit: Cheryl Juetten

The holiday season seems like a fitting time to bring up Cognac-based cocktails, something we at Night Owl like to shake and stir all year round and not just in December. 

Does it seem rather fancy-pants to add Cognac to cocktails? Au contraire, mes amis! It’s a natural.

This aged French brandy, distilled from grapes, may not seem as rooted in classic cocktails as gin and American whiskies are, but Cognac has played a starring role in American cocktails from the get-go, especially ones originating in New Orleans, which isn’t a surprise given the Crescent City’s French heritage. As such, folks in New Orleans  didn’t rely on the excuse of holidays to open a bottle of Cognac and getting mixing, and neither should you.

Examples of classic Cognac cocktails from the Big Easy include the Vieux Carre and the Sazerac. This last one may come as a surprise now that it’s now typically made with rye whiskey, though some historically minded craft bars will split the base between cognac and rye. Originally this spirit-forward cocktail was made with a full base of Cognac. That was back in the time before the phylloxera epidemic in the late 1800s in Europe that devastated grape vines and hence wine and brandy production. Whiskey came to the rescue of the Sazerac when Cognac was in short, precious supply.

Another classic cocktail to add to this grapey lineup is the Side Car, which was my introduction to revitalized classic cocktails back in the mid-1990s at the Beauty Bar in Manhattan. Enamored of ice-cold, viscous vodka martinis at the time, I was blown away by the Side Car, with its tang of fresh citrus and the headiness of a grape-based distillate, all served up in a cute coupe with a hardened sugar rim, not looking unlike the salted rim of a margarita. Drinking for me hasn’t been the same since. Thank you, Cognac! 

There are plenty of other mixed drinks prepared with Cognac, such as the Side Car’s ancestor, the Brandy Crusta, also from New Orleans, and I gained access to a whole new repertoire of brandy cocktails when bartender extraordinaire and certified Cognac educator, Ms. Franky, who’s based in New York City, led an educational class on Cognac and cocktails for the New York Women’s Culinary Alliance’s Cocktail Club back in September, an event which I, Diana, helped organize.

Ms. Franky got the party started with the simplest and yet most elegant of drinks, a welcoming glass of Cognac and tonic with a lemon twist. No need, see, to get complicated and fussy with Cognac. For the other two drinks of the evening, Ms Franky revamped two classics, a Manhattan, swapping out the whiskey for Cognac, and a French 75, adding a suitably more French spirit for the English gin. This is what I really learned from Ms. Franky during her talk and demo: Enjoy Cognac now; don’t wait for a special occasion for it.

Urging you to do this may sound like an extravagant expense, like taking a bath in Champagne, or something like that, but there are decent Cognacs, very suitable for mixology, out there, which don’t cost much more than any other spirit you would use for making cocktails, between $40-$50. I, and many bartenders, are partial to Pierre Ferrand’s expressions of 1840 Original Formula and Ambre for this economic reason. Ask your local liquor store to get you a bottle or two and get mixing. You could even get really festive and make a punch, as I did for the holidays, or homemade eggnog. 

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

A Toast to Vermouth

Rachel’s homemade vermouth was the surprising highlight of the evening. 

This was the consensus at the November meeting of Cookbook Club, a regular event that Diana organizes at a friend’s spacious apartment in New York City. Of the dozen and half dishes that we attendees prepared from the selected cookbook, Catalan Food, Rachel’s first attempt at making vermouth stood out among some very impressive and ambitious dishes, including a fisherman’s paella,rabbit stew, freshly fried churros, and rice pudding made with Spanish Bomba rice, and even--I hate to admit--my clams cooked in white wine.

So, what was so special about the vermouth that Rachel made in both a dry and sweet version? Perhaps it had to do with its being deliciously potent and got us all in a good mood quickly. We drank it simply with ice and a green castelvetrano olive. Or maybe because it was distinctly Spanish and it transported us from busy Manhattan to the slow delights of Catalonia in Spain, where the eat-drink-chat tradition of l’hora de vermut--vermouth hour--is being resurrected. Whatever it was, her Vermut de la Casa was made well and it made us reconsider vermouth.

Who knew that vermouth, which is an aromatized (flavors are added) and fortified (spirits added) wine  could be made at home? I certainly didn’t! Rachel’s two flip-top bottles of vermouth, transported by subway, showed us all, including me, the spirits expert, that they could. Another lesson: they showed us that vermouth can play a starring role all by itself and not just a supporting one in spirit-forward cocktails, such as the Martini, Manhattan, Negroni, Vieux Carre, and so many others that benefit from the complex botanicals and sweetness that vermouth brings to a mixed drink. In fact, these cocktails wouldn’t be the drinks they are without vermouth.

Well, I was good and aware of that last lesson, of vermouth capable of taking on a starring role, as is Paul. Case in point: one of our favorite cocktails when we are going with something low ABV is an Old Hickory, typically equal parts of dry and sweet vermouth boosted with both orange and Peychaud’s bitters. Another benefit of this drink besides its low ABV is that it’s so damn easy to make. No shaker required. Just build it in a glass. Just as you would if you were to pour yourself a simple class of vermouth.

Let’s sing more praises to vermouth: Its low ABV (as compared to a boozy cocktail) offers a softer touch of alcohol while opening up the taste buds and stomach. It helps get the dinner party started without sending it right off the deep end, just as we experienced at Cookbook Club. And drinking vermouth is so wonderfully Euro. You can’t help but feel worldly and cosmopolitan. For me a solid glass of vermouth on its own evokes my trips to Spain, especially my first trip to Barcelona where my friend Anne stocked up on a half dozen expressions for us to try together with nibbling on cheese and olives and conservas (high quality tinned fish) on her balcony in the city of Gaudi.

What I am trying to say is: Go out and try some vermouth. It can be as simple as adding some to ice and an orange slice and/or green olive or mixing them into a classic cocktail. Just be sure to store the opened bottle of vermouth in the fridge as it can go off if it sits out. Remember: it’s a wine. Or try making your own, as Rachel did!

What is Whiskey Exactly?

When I’ve got a chance to teach a group about whiskey, I keep in mind a rhetorical question that Colin Spoelman and David Haskell posit in the introduction to their book, Guide to Urban Moonshining: How to Make and Drink Whiskey: “How can you know so little about something you do so often?”

They’re talking about drinking whiskey, of course. Despite the pointedness of their question, Spoelman and Haskell are quite understanding and sympathetic about our lack of knowledge about this grain-based distilate. They acknowledge that here in America, where our “native spirits” are bourbon and rye, there isn’t a lot of knowledge about this category. Often not even the bartender from you’ve ordered your bourbon knows. They also acknowledge that we, now as drinking adults, don’t want to face the discomfort of looking like a fool by asking, What exactly Is whiskey? As a result, almost nobody knows what whiskey is and what spirits fall into the category.

I had the pleasure to answer this question when Justin invited Night Owl to make his boys’ weekend special. Justin was hosting an annual gathering of a tight-knit group of college buddies who consider themselves more like brothers than friends. I came up the idea of doing a whiskey tasting, along with a hands-on cocktail making session with the whiskey. What guided me in creating programming for the evening was that question, How can you know so little about something you do so often?: I knew from Justin that his four friends drank whiskey, and on my own I assumed that they probably didn’t entirely understand the category that they enjoyed so much, and that they probably were like most Americans and too proud or apprehensive to ask, What exactly is whiskey?

This was my chance. Actually, this was their chance, since rarely does the opportunity arise to find out something you were too apprehension to ask. That night, around Justin’s kitchen table, I got straight to the heart of the issues by asking the guys directly if they can explain what whiskey is. No one among Justin’s friends could answer correctly. They were stymied and thus a bit embarrassed. Sensing this, I assure them that no one really knows, and that after the class, they will.

I next explain that whiskey is an umbrella category, just as rum, brandy, and mezcal are. As a visual, I flash the international sign for category which is putting both hands above my head, like a roof sheltering me from rain. I learned it from Diane Wade, who used to lead the tours at New York Distilling Company in Brooklyn.

Flowing down from this category are subcategories: scotch, rye, bourbon, Irish whiskey, Japanese whiskey, etc. What unites all these different expressions is that they fall under this umbrella category (I’ve still got my special visual going on) and what places them under this roof is that all of them are distilled from a fermented grain mash, whether it be barley, corn, rye, wheat, quinoa, oats, or whatever. What all whiskies are at the end of the day, more or less, is distilled beer.

By now, the five friends have had enough of my flashing the international sign for umbrella category and it’s now time to drink some actual whiskey. Poured into a Glencairn glass are three different types: bourbon, rye, and single malt scotch. Comparative tasting is the best way to learn; listening to me yammer on is not.

So, bourbon, rye and scotch are all whiskies, but what makes them fall into their specific subcategories? Bourbon has to be distilled anywhere in the U.S. from a mash bill of at least 51 percent corn and aged in new, charred oak barrels. There is no requirement on aging time, but to be called “straight” it has to be aged at least two years. Rye has to be distilled in the U.S. as well, and from a mash bill of at least 51 percent rye (what a surprise) and aged in new, charred oak barrels. For a single malt scotch, the “single” refers to the requirement that the distillate comes from a single distillery; the “malt” means that the “beer” is fermented from 100 malted barley; and “scotch” means it has to be distilled, naturally, in Scotland.

It’s all still rather confusing. Even after repeating the information, the guys were still confused. Same thing happens at our month whiskey club, The Asbury Park Whisky Club. And that’s ok. What I really hope to convey is that bourbon, rye, and scotch all belong to the same family (whiskey) and that it’s ok not to know what distinguishes them, and that’s ok to ask, if you don’t know. Just keep drinking whiskey and asking.

It’s time that you know something about something you do so often.

Craft Cocktail Crawl in the City

When you live as close as we do to New York City, ground zero for the craft cocktail renaissance on the East Coast, it’s almost a duty to go visit bars there. Actually, it is a duty. It’s what budding chefs do (visiting highly acclaimed restaurants, that is, not bars necessarily), and it’s what young mixologists should do too. Drink and learn from the best. Drinking in situ, to speak, is no match for on-line videos and blogs.

But that doesn’t mean these trips happens with regularity or ease, as it’s not inexpensive to get into the city and then there’s the question of where to spend the night, unless you want to punish yourself with a two-hour, lights-blazing train ride home after a fine evening of being out on the town.

And there’s what I also call suburban inertia, which requires a powerful escape velocity to break through. To muster this energy, fixing a date in the calendar, instead of just talking about it, can be most helpful, and this is what we did.

On a scheduled Monday evening in early April, Paul, Laura, and I of Night Owl Hospitality met up in the city to visit well-established craft cocktail bars. Our chief goal that evening was just to do it, to go on a cocktail crawl, as we had been talking about it for years, and our tactic was to keep the crawl localized so that we could walk from place to place.

Familiarity was behind our meeting spot. Dear Irving is near where I have a pied-à-terre, and both Paul and Laura used to work with a woman who used to bartend there. Since it was a Monday, it was a bit quiet at this Gramercy bar, but that meant we could focus more on the design and decor and notice for the first time how the bar is divided into two very different styles. Clever! And so are the drinks. The clear winner was Paul’s highball, fresh and lively.

Where to next? I really wanted to go back to Existing Conditions since it’s one of the newest bars in the city and it’s doing something totally new and rad. In addition, I have been long following the career of one of the bartenders there, ever since Garrett and I sat next to each other at a seminar at the very first Manhattan Cocktail Classic in 2010. The spin there is modern tiki—the flourish of tiki pared down and focused, with the help of Dave Arnold’s technical wizardry such as the centrifuge. I was craving a drink made this way, rum and pineapple. Laura decided to go big and get one of the more pricey drinks on the menu, Tropical Storm, which was so fresh and delicious.

We let Garrett pick the next stop, Katana Kitten, where he sends many folks after they close, which is on the early side for Manhattan, at midnight. Again, it was quiet here, but this meant we got the full attention of the bartender. I went with one of their “coldest balls in the city,” the Toki Highball.

How can you not go to Employees Only when it’s right across the street. Paul had never been and neither had Laura. It presented itself like no other way that I had previously seen it—off the walls at 2am on Monday. Paul and Laura loved their drink so much they ordered a second round, so deep was their appreciation. But this, of course, leads to what all things lead to, even if you are on a professional drinking tour—late night pizza which doesn’t always end well. But it all did end well: we actually went toured craft cocktail bars together and have another date on the calendar.

Tips for doing your own craft cocktail bar crawl: Do some research ahead of time so you can hit the places you should be hitting. Talk to the bartender not just about what she’s making and how she’s doing it. Get her suggestion about where to go next and then go there. This is usually choice info. To keep things moving and to minimize the chance of over consuming, just drink one drink at each place. Know that you won’t hit every spot, so plan to come back another time. And put it in your calendar.

Cocktail School: Shaken or Stirred?

A lovely guy hired Night Owl Hospitality as a Valentine’s Day present for his wife. What he had in mind was that we would conduct an at-home cocktail-making class for the two of them and a small group of their friends around their kitchen island on a Saturday night. We love educating folks about craft cocktails, and we thus love doing events like this.

He and I conferred on how to structure the class, and we decided upon offering a welcome cocktail and then I would demo for the group a shaken cocktail, a stirred one, and a shaken one with egg whites. Once we decided this, there was a bit of back and forth via email about which cocktails to select for each category, but ultimately we figured out the various drinks pretty quickly—a French 75 for the welcome cocktail; a Lavender Bees Knees for the shaken cocktail; and a Hibiscus Whiskey Sour for the shaken one with eggs (see below for recipes)—except for the stirred offering.

In the back-and-forth of emails, it became evident that he and his wife weren’t clear on what what a stirred cocktails is. Once I explained it, they were then afraid that they were too boozy and that the women wouldn’t like them.

Even when he and his wife kept suggesting shaken cocktails for the evening, thinking that they were stirred ones, or maybe because of this, I wouldn’t back down from including a stirred cocktail in the line-up. After all, at least one-third of all the cocktail recipes out there in the world, are stirred ones, and so if I were to skip this part of their cocktail education, I would be denying them a whole, big category of drinks. I wouldn’t be preforming my cocktail duty!

Of all the stirred cocktail that I suggested for the evening (and there were a lot of them! Vesper; Martini; Negroni; (Spicy) tequila old fashioned; Boulevardier; Martinez, Sazerac, Diamondback, Alaska, Bijou, Tuxedo) we ultimately went with the Martinez. Well, actually, I had to insist on it, and what made me go with it is that even though it’s “booze-forward,” it has a pleasing, approachable sweetness and it was an opportunity to explain dry gin vs Old Tom gin.

After all their resistance toward a stirred drink, the Martinez ended up being one of the favorite drinks of the evening, even for the women—a potable, revelation. The merry group, who were very good students, eager to learn more about the history of alcohol and cocktails, loved the term “spirit forward,” an expression, which will help them to decode on a cocktail menu, which drinks are stirred and which are shaken.

So, when are drinks shaken and when are they stirred? I must confess that when I was first getting into cocktails, almost 15 years ago, I didn’t even know, and I felt so ashamed when a bartender at Dutch Kills in Queens, NYC, which was admired for hand-carving its own ice, had to school me on the differences in preparation.

Enough of me. Back to the question: When to shake and when to stir? Basically when a drink recipes calls for juice, dairy, or eggs, the drink is shaken to forcibly mix together the different ingredients and to incorporate air which leads to a frothy, light texture. If the ingredients are just booze (this includes from spirits to vermouth to bitters) and sugar, it’s stirred so that the drink isn’t aerated and the resulting mouthfeel is seductively velvety. If you were to shake a martini, for example, it would get cold more quickly than by stirring, but its appearance would be all off. The air introduced by shaking will turn the drink cloudy, not at all what you want for your martini, the delight of which is crystal clarity. Let James Bond have that.

RECIPES

Welcome Cocktail: French 75

1 oz Gin
.5 oz Lemon juice
.5-.75 oz Simple syrup (depending on sweetness of sparkling wine)
2-3 oz Sparkling wine, chilled

Combine all ingredients, except sparkling wine, in a shaker tin, add ice, and shake for 10 seconds. Strain into a champagne flute. Top with chilled sparkling wine.
Garnish with a lemon twist.

Shaken 1: Lavender Bee's Knees
2 oz. Gin
.75 oz. Lemon juice
.75 oz. Lavender honey syrup*

Combine all ingredients in a shaker tin, add ice, and shake for 10 seconds. Strain into a rocks glass or a chilled coupe.
Garnish with a lemon twist or lemon wheel/wedge.

*Lavender Honey Syrup
6 oz. Honey
3 oz. Hot water
5 tsp Dried lavender
Stir the dried lavender into the hot water and let steep for three minutes. Mix honey into the hot lavender water until the honey is fully dissolved.  Strain and let the syrup cool to room temperature. Store in an airtight container, refrigerated, for up to 1 month. Makes 9 ounces.

Stirred 1: Martinez
2 oz. Old Tom gin
1 oz. Sweet vermouth
1 tsp Maraschino liqueur
1 dash Orange bitters
Combine all ingredients in a mixing glass and add ice. Stir until chilled and strain into a chilled coupe/Nick and Nora glass.Garnish with an orange twist.

Shaken 2: Hibiscus Sour
1.5 oz. Bourbon
.5 oz. Lime juice
.25 oz. Lemon juice
.75 oz. Hibiscus syrup**
.5 oz or 1 small Egg white (optional)Combine all ingredients in a shaker tin. If using egg white, first shake without ice for 10 seconds (a "dry shake") and then add ice and shake for 10 more seconds.  Strain into a rocks glass.
Garnish with freshly grated cinnamon.

**Hibiscus Syrup:
8 oz. Organic cane sugar
8 oz. Hot water
3-4 tsp Dried hibiscus flowers/tea
Combine the hot water, dried hibiscus and cane sugar in a saucepan.  Stir over medium heat until sugar is fully dissolved, and tea is fully steeped (about 10 minutes).  Strain and let the syrup cool to room temperature. Store in an airtight container, refrigerated, for up to 1 month.  
Makes about 12 ounces.

"Simple" & Seasonal Mixology on the Homestead

When Paul and I were asked by Dutch Hill Homestead to collaborate on a introductory mixology class at their suburban farm, complete with eight laying hens and a small herd of adorably active Nigerian dwarf goats, we knew that we wanted to incorporate fresh eggs into the drinks for the evening. But, acknowledging that eggs can be off-putting for some folks (What are eggs doing in my drink? Are they safe?), we also wanted to offer a simple approach to cocktail making.

And what is more simple than simple syrups?

The focus, then, of our class at DHH, on a Friday evening in early spring, was simple syrups and the ways that you can get seasonally creative with them to jazz up your favorite cocktails. That evening we demonstrated how to make a hibiscus syrup for a whiskey sour; a jalapeno agave syrup for a naturally spicy margarita, and a lavender honey syrup, with DHH’s own dried lavender, for a floral Bee’s Knee. See below for recipes, and for inspiration about making your own flavors of simple syrups—thyme, rosemary, rose, celery, or whatever’s in season and you enjoy.

In the spirit of keeping things simple: What are simple syrups and how do cocktails benefit from them. At its most basic, a simple syrup is a sugar dissolved in water. As a liquid, the sugar is more easily incorporated into a drink; there are no crystals lying sadly unused and crunchy at the bottom of the glass. By definition, all cocktails will have a measure of sugar, to help offset the alcoholic burn of spirits; add a desirable mouthfeel to the drink; and to meld the disparate ingredients.

By making your own simple syrups, instead of buying them premade, you not only save money but you also get to decide the type of sugar to use (e.g., refined, raw, honey, agave syrup, maple syrup, demerara etc—all with distinctive taste and consistency and potential health benefits) and how much. For most of our drinks we use an organic cane sugar, since it offers a more complex flavor than white sugar but not too complex, in a proportion of 1:1 (simple syrup) or 2:1 (rich syrup) but we do certainly mix it up with agave syrup, usually for tequila drinks, and honey.

Most recipes for making simple syrups call for adding water and the sugar to a pot and heating them at the stove, stirring until the sugar is dissolved. That’s a fine way to do it, but not the best or most efficient. The drawbacks of this method are that you’ve got another pot to clean and the water can evaporate while heating, thereby throwing off the proportion of water to sugar. We instead opt for putting the sugar into a mason jar or some other container and adding the required amount of hot water. Either stir or shake the contents until the sugar is dissolved, and once the syrup is room temperature, seal the container and put it in the fridge, where it will last about two weeks.

If you want to add other ingredients to flavor, make a “tea” with the ingredient by adding it to the hot water. Once the desired intensity of flavor is reached and while the water is still warm, drain the solids and add the sugar (whatever kind you want) and stir or shake until the sugar is dissolved.

Here are some recipes for simple syrups to inspire you and some cocktail recipes which use them:

Lavender Bee's Knees:
2 oz Gin
.75 oz Lemon juice
.75 oz Lavender honey syrup (see below)
Combine all ingredients in a shaker tin, add ice, shake for 10 seconds, and strain into a rocks glass.
Garnish with a lemon twist.

Lavender Honey Syrup:
6 oz. Honey
3 oz. Hot water
5 tsp Dried lavender
Stir the dried lavender into the hot water and let steep for three minutes. Mix honey into the hot lavender water until the honey is fully dissolved.  Strain and let the syrup cool to room temperature. Store in an airtight container, refrigerated, for up to 1 month.  
Makes 9 ounces.

**************

Spicy Margarita:
2 oz. Tequila
.75 oz Lime juice
.75 oz. Jalapeno-infused agave syrup (see below)
Combine all ingredients in a shaker tin, add ice, shake for 10 seconds, strain into a rocks glass.
Garnish with a lime wedge.

Jalapeno Agave Syrup:
6 oz. Agave syrup
3 oz. Hot water
2 Fresh jalapenos
Dice the jalapenos, retaining all the seeds, and steep in the hot water for 3 minutes. Taste the mixture to ensure that the spice level is to your taste.  Allow them to steep longer for a spicier end product. Strain out the jalapenos and stir the agave into the jalapeno-infused water until it's fully integrated.  Let the syrup cool to room temperature and store in an airtight container, refrigerated, for up to 1 month.
Makes 9 ounces.

**************

Hibiscus Sour:
1.5 oz. Bourbon
.5 oz. Lime juice
.25 oz Lemon juice
.75 oz. Hibiscus syrup (see below)
1 Egg white (optional)
Combine all ingredients in a shaker tin. If using egg white, first shake without ice for 10 seconds (a "dry shake") and then add ice and shake for 10 more seconds.  Strain into a rocks glass.
Garnish with freshly grated cinnamon.

Hibiscus Syrup:
8 oz. Organic cane sugar
8 oz. Hot water
3-4 tsp Dried hibiscus flowers/tea
Combine the hot water, dried hibiscus and cane sugar in a saucepan.  Stir over medium heat until sugar is fully dissolved, and tea is fully steeped (about 10 minutes).  Strain and let the syrup cool to room temperature. Store in an airtight container, refrigerated, for up to 1 month.  
Makes about 12 ounces.

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Spiced Rum Flip
(Here's what you can do with that leftover egg yolk from the Hibiscus Sour)
2 oz Dark rum
1 Egg yolk
1 oz Heavy cream
.25 oz Spiced simple syrup (see below)
Combine all ingredients in a shaker tin and shake without ice for 10 seconds (a "dry shake") and then add ice and shake for 10 more seconds.  Strain into a chilled coupe glass.
Garnish with freshly grated nutmeg.

Spiced Simple Syrup
1 cup Organic cane sugar
1 cup Water
.5 tsp Ground star anise
.25 tsp each Ground allspice; Ground cloves; Grated nutmeg; Ground cinnamon
Combine the sugar and water in a medium saucepan over medium heat; do not boil. Add the spices and slowly stir to dissolve the sugar.  When the syrup has thickened, remove from the heat. Strain and let the syrup cool to room temperature. Store in an airtight container, refrigerated, for up to 1 month.  
Makes about 12 ounces.

Cheers!

Diana & Paul