When I found out that this Mixology Monday - hosted at Kaiser Penguin was going to be devoted to mint, I immediately thought of crème de menthe and one of the classic cocktails devoted to it, the Stinger, a combination of brandy and crème de menthe. I’ve never had a stinger before, but then again am not a huge crème de menthe fan. There may be some good brands out there – I await to see what the other Monday Mixologists are uncovering – but in general, I find the liqueur too one-note, as subtle as a vial of McCormick’s mint extract. Frankly I wasn’t sure I wanted to plunk down twenty bucks on a bottle that would linger unused on my shelf.

My solution was to make my own mint liqueur. Nothing too refined, I just started with an overproof rum, a bunch of chopped mint and some simple syrup:

Simple Mint Liqueur

2/3 c. chopped mint leaves
1/3 c. 151-proof rum (I used J. Wray & Nephew overproof white rum)
simple syrup, 1:1 ratio, sugar to water

In a bowl or jar placed in the refrigerator, soak leaves overnight in rum. Strain mixture through a sieve, pressing out excess alcohol. It should measure about a quarter cup. Add enough syrup to make 1/3 c. total. (Or, if making in larger quantities, keep 2 parts rum to 1 part syrup.)

From there, a nice, subtle stinger is just a step away.

I’ve actually become fond of making a number of brandy cocktails with cognac. (Cognac is brandy, but not all brandies are cognac.) I don’t break the bank, but for 25 bucks or so, maybe less, you can get a decent, full-bodied cognac with a nice kick that far more focused than the sweet, full brandies that comprise the cheaper brands. Not what you want all the time, but here a VSOP Marquis de Gensac carried the day.

Stinger Deluxe

1 jigger cognac
1 jigger simple mint liqueur

Shake ingredients well and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish if you like.

Since the homemade mint liqueur was far less cloying and sweet than crème de menthe, I feel justified in using a sugared rim and a mint sprig for garnish.

A lot of trouble, I’m sure plenty of you are saying. Or maybe you just want a full mint taste, something understated in my version. The traditional recipe, half brandy, half crème de menthe, may be the thing for you.

One of the most refreshing warm-weather drinks I can imagine in Pimm’s Cup. Pimm’s No. 1 is an herbal-infused gin spirit, but it tastes nothing like gin, nor is it overly herbally or bitter. The closest relative to flavor I can point to would be angostura bitters – clove-y and slightly sweet. Made in England and long associated with the upper class there, it used to be produced in eight varieties, each with a different base spirit, but now is made in three, only one of which is distributed in any quality: the traditional Pimm’s No.1, consumed almost strictly in the simple, exquisite Pimm’s Cup.

Pimm’s Cup is merely Pimm’s No.1, lemon soda, citrus and cucumber slices. British “lemonade” is traditional, but since I can’t find a reasonably priced brand of the stuff here, I use Sprite, whose blandness works well against the liqueur. Originally a punch, it works equally well as a highball, the recipe for which follows. Equally suited for a picnic along the Charles as it is for punting on the Thames.

Pimm’s No. 1 Cup
Sprite or other lemon soda
Citrus slices (always lemon, lime and orange optional)
Couple cucumber slices
Mint spring, optional

Fill highball glass with ice. Fill a third the way with Pimm’s, top with Sprite and add garnishes. Stir briefly.

I’ve never been a huge fan of milk or cream-based drinks. A brandy alexander or a White Russian can be fine as an occasional dessert, but the idea one after the other when going out is never appealing.

But after seeing that this Mixology Monday - hosted by The Art of Drink - has the theme of coffee liqueur, the creamy dessert cocktail seemed an obvious route. I imagined something like a brandy alexander, only with the coffee liqueur added. Or, since I’ve been intrigued with the use of raw egg as an ingredient since trying the Pink Lady, I pictured an egg yolk emulsifying it.

Turns out Trader Vic’s guide lists just such a recipe, called the Carioca. I know nothing about the history, or how widely this was ever served. From what I’ve seen Carioca is a rum brand, so I’m not sure how it lent its name to this drink.

I’ve adjusted the proportions slightly

The Carioca

1 jigger brandy
1/2 jigger Kalhúa
1/2 jigger cream
1 egg yolk
dust with grated nutmeg, if desired

A lot of people will be put off the raw egg. Indeed, consumption does carry risk of illness. But I’m amazed at the numbers who will freak out at a true Caeser salad or homemade mayonnaise but eat raw cookie dough by the tubful. For the soundest mind, use the freshest eggs you can get, organic if you can.

Anyway, the egg provides a nice silky texture to the liquid ingredients – and with the cream adds a layer of richness. I ended up liking this better than the regular alexander, and it’s equally fine with aged rum instead of the brandy. Why try to force a martini to take on the taste of tiramisu when you can get back to the basics of rum, coffee, egg, and dairy instead?

I’m going to have to punt a bit on this Mixology Monday. I didn’t get around to experimenting with anise or to shopping for some true French pastis, so I don’t have much more to add from my recent post on anise liqueur. In general, I’m still learning to acquire the taste. To that end, I find that citrus helps cut the sugary sweetness. A lot. If you can’t find the limon dulce I referenced before, here’s a simple drink to make with readily available ingredients:

Anise Rickey

1 jigger anise liqueur (I used ouzo)
juice of one lime
Club soda

Fill highball glass with ice. Squeeze in lime and add liqueur. Top with club soda and garnish with lime wedge.

Unorthodox maybe, but not bad. I’m more eager, however, to try the more exciting offerings of the fellow mixologists. And that Henri Bardouin sounds amazing, even if I am a sucker for Ricard’s image and packaging.

As my friends know, I like to have a drink of the season. Something that captures my mood and complements the climate. Maybe even that uses seasonal ingredients. A drink for which I can have the ingredients on hand for company or for myself.

Well, after my trip to B Side, the drink of spring for me is the Last Word. Its fruity-dry balance, its pale green color, its perfect alchemy that needs no garnish: I can’t think of a better spring cocktail. It was popular among my friends too, who couldn’t remember the cocktail name so kept calling it the L Word.

It’s not in most guidebooks, even the encyclopedic Trader Vic’s. Thankfully, Paul at Cocktail Chronicles comes to the rescue. I urge you to go read his post for the history of this long-forgotten Prohibition-era drink (that’s half the fun), but for convenience I’ll reproduce the recipe:

The Last Word

1/2 jigger dry gin
1/2 jigger maraschino liqueur
1/2 jigger green Chartreuse
1/2 jigger fresh lime juice

Put ingredients with ice in a shaker and shake well. Strain into chilled cocktail glass. No garnish.

I only see a couple of drawbacks. First, some people don’t like Chartreuse. I love the stuff myself and have a hard time keeping a bottle around, I like it on the rocks so much. But to some, the herbal flavors will remind them of a Ricola cough drop. To them, I’ll just say that in the Last Word, the interplay holds everything in balance; like a Long Island Ice Tea, you don’t so much taste the individual liquors, as the sum is greater than the parts.

Then there’s the ingredients: maraschino liqueur isn’t too cheap and can be a pain to find; and Chartreuse is expensive, often topping forty dollars a bottle, though Martignetti’s currently stocks it for 34 bucks. If you’re unsure about committing to the liquor, or are leery of odd-tasting liqueurs, go try a Last Word at B-Side for a test run. I predict that many of you, even the gin-haters, will fall in love with this one.

Anise is one of those flavors I’m not crazy about. It’s not just me either. Most people I know are in the same boat, and I suspect that something about strong licorice notes doesn’t gel with the American palate. Still, it’s something I want to enjoy, partly because I like the idea of anise liqueurs… Pernod, Pastis, Sambuca, Ouzo, and others are a time-honored, central part of the sun-drenched leisure of Mediterranean life. And I do like Mediterranean food quite a bit, and could use a liqueur that matches it well. In fact, I end up using my bottle of ouzo more for cooking than drinking.

Time to change that, I’ve decided recently. I got some inspiration by stumbling on limon dulce in the Hi-Lo Market in Jamaica Plain. I don’t know what role the scrubby citrus plays in Latin cuisine, but the bitter-more-than-tart fragrant lemon flavor of the limon dulce juice was distinctive enough to try to fashion a cocktail out of it. I tried making a Tom Collins with it, but the bitterness was exacerbated by the gin, and the combination wasn’t complementary.

Then I tried ouzo and was pleased with the results. You can use another anise liqueur, but I like ouzo’s relative dryness. Since a little anise flavor goes a long way with me, I use a ratio of two parts limon dulce, one part ouzo, with a bit of lime thrown in to round out the acidity. The drink ends up like a fresh, unusual margarita. Since I concocted it, it doesn’t have an official name. Any nominations?

Anise Liqueur Sour
Juice of 1 limon dulce (2 jiggers)
1 jigger ouzo
Juice of 1/2-1 lime, depending on juiciness.

Fill an old-fashioned glass with ice. Add limon dulce juice and ouzo, and stir. Squeeze lime juice on top and serve.

Do readers have any particular drinks they have for St. Patrick’s Day? Besides the green beer? One reader, another Chris, saw my post on pousse-cafes and sent in his own recipe for a layered drink.

Irish Flag
Crème de menthe
Bailey’s Irish Cream
Grand Marnier

In order listed, pour a small layer of each liqueur carefully into a cordial glass. Float each layer on top of the next, allowing time for it to settle.

Not having the ingredients on hand, I’ve not made an Irish Flag or tasted it, so you’re left on you own.

Zon’s, a small restaurant in Jamaica Plain’s Hyde Square, bills itself as gourmet comfort food. If that seems a contradiction in terms, you don’t spend much time in JP. The appeal of nice dinner out in a place that’s not intimidating or too expensive captures the ethos of the bohemian bourgeoisie perfectly. It’s dress-down fancy.

Zon’s pulls it off, fortunately. Eat and Destroy has a review of the food, but after a recent visit I thought I should mention that its bar itself is unfairly overlooked in a part of the city where Irish pubs are thick on the ground but where there are few other drinking holes. It’s a small space and the bar section is even smaller, but even on a Thursday night it wasn’t crowded and my friends and I were able to snag seats at a prime hour.

They do not have a full liquor license and instead are limited to cordials and sweetened liqueurs. Amazingly, given the limitations, they’ve been able to craft an appealing cocktail menu. It gave me a chance to imbibe sloe gin, which I’ve not had in years. The Charlie Chaplin cocktail was a nice after-dinner drink, sweet and fruity but an unexpected combination all the same. I haven’t tested the recipe out at home, but guides list the following:

Charlie Chaplin

1 jigger sloe gin
1 jigger apricot brandy
1 jigger lemon juice

Shake and pour into an old fashioned glass, garnished with lime.

And of course, instead of a cocktail you can always take one of their cordials neat or on the rocks.

Their beer selection was limited, but a seasonal Harpoon hit the spot. The wine selection seemed fuller. The bar staff were unfussy, friendly and capable. Definitely one to add to the mental rolodex of places to go for a nightcap, digestif, or even a glass of beer in a place that doesn’t smell like what you’re drinking.

Zon’s is located at 2 Perkins Street at Centre St. in Jamaica Plain, near the 39 bus.

In the comments, Whit writes to ask,

I want to use my pretty little Iittala glasses for something on Oscar night–but I never know what kind of drink to serve in them. I guess they are for cordials or vodka shots as your quote said below. What could I serve in my adorable glasses that would just be a way for me to show them off before, after, or along with the real drink of the evening–the martini?

I confess, Whit’s a friend of mine (but I didn’t prod him to leave a comment, I swear!): I’ve seen his cordials glasses and they are adorable. It’s because of them that I know the what Iittala cordials look like in the first place… slender, small tumblers rectangular with a slight flare, not the tapered or rounded shape that’s common. But that’s almost secondary to the larger question: what can one serve in small cordials glasses besides cordials? Is there anything fancier just than pouring some sherry?

What immediately came to mind is the pousse-café, which is the name of a layered cordial drink. It’s based on the idea that different liquors have different specific gravities: water with sugar dissolved in it is heavier than plain water, which is heavier than alcohol. Lower proof, sweeter liqueurs will sink in the glass, more alcoholic, drier liqueurs will rise.

The layering technique is called “floating.” Pour the first layer. Then on the back of a small spoon (this minimized disruption of the layers below), gently pour another thin layer. Wait a few seconds until the layers settle. Repeat with as many layers as you like, taking your time. The result is a lovely banding of different colors and flavors. Here’s a simple and tasty one I created with grenadine, maraschino liqueur, Chartreuse and cognac:

This is definitely Advanced Bartending territory, or at least Intermediate. Not only is there the technique of floating to master (not all that hard really), the drink requires having the appropriate liqueurs on hand. From heaviest to lightest, here are some possibilities:

Crème de Cassis / Grenadine
Anisette
Kahlua
White Crème de Cacao / Maraschino Liqueur
Crème de Menthe (Green or White)
Blue Curacao / Galliano
Amaretto
Tia maria
Drambuie / Frangelico / Orange Curacao
Campari / Yellow Chartreuse
Midori / Apricot brandy / Cherry brandy / Peach brandy
Cointreau / Brandy / Sloe gin / Kummel / Benedictine
Green Chartreuse
Southern Comfort
Kirsch
Cognac
Cream

Ingredients listed horizontally are comparable in density. The further apart in density, the clearer the layers will separate. There are longer lists that include the color and specific gravity of each. Or you can check out vintage recipes that will list strange-sounding combinations with obscure ingredients like crème de violette.

For the most part I avoid these recipes. They’re designed for visual impact, not flavor. Certainly, you want consider different colors in layering a pousse-café; the drink is all about the presentation after all. But don’t make your guest (or yourself) suffer through a Midori, Frangelico and Cream combination because it looks pretty. Pick liqueurs that go well together.

If in doubt, stay simple. Kalhua, Crème de Cacao and Brandy. Or Drambuie, Apricot Brandy, and Benedictine. You don’t have to have tons of brightly colored liquors or expensive, designer glassware to make a pousse-café. A small cordial of just Cointreau with a fine brandy layered on top is elegant, balanced and nearly unbeatable.

Got a cocktail or bartending question? Ask it at bostoncocktails-AT-yahoo-DOT-com.