In the novel Live and Let Die, James Bond is with Solitaire on a cross country train from New York to Washington, when he orders from the Pullman two Old Fashioned Cocktails, specifying Old Grand-Dad bourbon, to go with their meal of chicken sandwiches and decaffeinated coffee (Sanka). I won't begin to speak to that as a pairing because simply listing a recipe for the Old Fashioned is grounds for a fight; by which I mean that no one really agrees on how this cocktail should be prepared. And people get very upset about it.
Lore has it that when folks started using new-fangled special ingredients like vermouth and curacao in their cocktails, more traditional folk would complain that cocktails were losing focus and their grace. Cocktails, the way they made them in the old fashioned days, were after all, just spirits, bitters, sugar and (maybe) some ice. Simple, graceful and elegant. And suddenly people were putting vermouth in them. The nerve! Okay, it seems silly now, but one look at the TGIFridays cocktail menu and you might feel the same way too (pay particular attention to their Cosmopolitan with cotton candy in it!).
But the Old Fashioned is an old drink and, as time goes by, things evolve to changing tastes and conditions or they disappear. The Old Fashioned went from a simple drink, typically (but not always), made with rye or bourbon whiskey, that might have had a strip of lemon peel to something with muddled orange slices, maraschino cherries, wedges of pineapple and, not to be forgotten, soda water. I'm sure there's some misguided bartender out there putting vermouth in it, not realizing she's making a Manhattan instead. These creations are not terrible but they fly in the face of the very notion that likely gave rise to the Old Fashioned in the first place: a simple, old fashioned cocktail.
However, evolution should not be discounted. We adapt because we must. The lemon peel, while certainly adequate, does not compliment the bourbon as well as, say, a bit of orange peel. A cherry is a festive thing and, while probably not authentic, is, in today's world, customary for an Old Fashioned. In other words, I believe in honoring the history but I'm not going to make a poor cocktail. (You see how it works?)
So, let's get to the bourbon. According to David Wondrich, the great historian of all things mixological, Old Grand-Dad bourbon was considered high end back in the days before small batch and artisan distillers. Today, Bond might specify Basil Hayden, Pappy van Winkle or whatever large distributor could afford product placement in the films but in Ian Flemings' day, Old Grand-Dad was the stuff; or Ian Fleming thought it was, at any rate. Remember, Bond orders Sanka as his decaf coffee of choice, very likely because that was the only decaf coffee on the planet at that time. In any case, it could be argued that bourbon, specifically Old Grand-Dad bourbon is what gets James Bond through Live and Let Die. Well, bourbon and his own true grit.
Old Grand-Dad is produced at 3 different proofs: 86 proof, 100 proof bonded and 114 proof. Because the bonded is likely to be a slightly better product, because we believe 007 with his hard drinking ways would have approved and because, it's Bond-ed (get it?), we chose Old Grand-Dad 100 proof bonded bourbon to work with. Also, because Bond typically drinks no-nonsense drinks, I'll assume he probably wouldn't have missed the pineapple slice or soda water.
Build in a rocks glass or tumbler:
- 2 oz. Old Grand-Dad 100 proof bonded bourbon
- 1 dash Angostora aromatic bitters
- 1 tsp simple syrup (you can muddle a single sugar cube instead but syrup is more even)
- 1 wide, thin slice of orange peel (try to get mostly zest, no pith or fruit), twist over the top and drop into the ice
- 1 cocktail cherry (optional)
Put bitters, syrup and half ice in glass, stir. Put in bourbon, continue stirring, add the rest of the ice. Cut and twist orange peel over the top of the drink. Put a cherry on top, if you must have one at all (Bada Bing cherries, despite the horrid name, are very good and, unlike most, free of chemicals. Luxardo Maraschino cherries are the real deal, however.) If you are new to bourbon or bourbon cocktails, the Old Fashioned is a great place to start. The relatively small number of elements means that the principle spirit is highlighted (instead of obscured) and the sugar and ice make for a nice, safe way to evaluate it.
The Old Grand-Dad certainly is a fine bourbon, bringing a generous balance of citrus, oak and spice to the palette. Unlike many bourbons in the $10-$20 price range, it has no aftertaste or chemical qualities. The finish is short and simple. More complexity might be desirable but it's certainly not required. Compared with other bourbons near this price point (both neat and in the cocktail), including Old Forester, Maker's Mark and Bulleit, I found Old Grand-Dad to be surprising; richer with strong citrus and light vanilla notes, a good bit stronger than Maker's Mark, less cluttered and cleaner than Old Forester and Jim Beam, it only fell short of Bulleit which seemed to be more flavorful with the same degree of balance with a somewhat longer and creamier finish. If you prefer rye whiskeys to bourbons, this might be a good, inexpensive bourbon to try. I would not hesitate to put Old Grand-Dad in a cocktail but I am not sure it would be on my list for a sipping whiskey. For one thing, at 100 proof, the alcohol burn obscures the subtler flavors. For another, while it's good and far better than many other bourbons one might find gracing one's cocktails, it isn't interesting. I doubt it would ever be my first choice. Unless, of course, I had just seduced the beautiful girlfriend of an international crime lord who had mangled my my arm, fed my best friend to the sharks and was trying to escape his voodoo death cartel by train. Then I'd probably be happy with whatever came with the chicken sandwich.