Friday, March 9, 2012

The Negroni cocktail

If ever there was a post-prohibition cocktail that embodied the butch, steely eyed quality of the early cold-war era, it is the Negroni. According to lore, in Florence, around 1919, Count Camillo Negroni asked the barman at Caffe Giacosa to add some kick to his Americano with some gin. While gin is a brilliant mixer, I believe the Count could have done better but we'll get to that later.

 In the short story Risico (In the collection For Your Eyes Only), which was adapted in part and modified for the film For Your Eyes Only, 007 waits for Kristatos and enjoys a Negroni, specifying (his usual) Gordon's gin. The Negroni is commonly made with equal parts: sweet (aka Italian) vermouth, Campari and gin, usually served over ice, often with a splash of soda with a twist of orange peel. Occasionally an actual orang slice will be used but this is a forgivable offense in a Negroni.

This is all well and good but a few years ago a bartender on the left bank opined to me that, contrary to common belief and wisdom, the amounts of Campari and vermouth do better when they, put together, equal the amount of gin at which point it becomes: 2 parts gin to 1 part Campari and 1 part vermouth. This is an excellent idea and it, following my Parisian barman's advice, it is how I enjoy mine; served up (as shown,, although on the rocks is acceptable) with a twist of orange and partitioned thusly:

  • 1.5 oz. gin 
  • .75 oz. sweet vermouth (I like Dolin for balance) 
  • .75 oz. Campari.Stir for at least 1 minute (dilution is not your enemy, it is, like fire, your powerful friend) 
Twist a strip of orange zest over the top of the drink so the oil covers the surface. Drop the peel in, sip and smile.

The Negroni is another varsity-level cocktail. James Bond was, if anything, a man's man and he proved it with his toughness as, in many ways, a drinker.  With the Negroni, I have had good, hard-drinking friends look at me as though I have served them turpentine when tasting it.  It is not a beginners cocktail. The proportions are irrelevant; Campari is an intense concoction, sweet, smoky, bitter and until you acquire a taste for it, anything made with it is... challenging. The Negroni is sweet upon introduction with the palette and then, quite suddenly, bitter and astringent. This is not exactly a negative critique. It's a fine, elegant cocktail, as is the Americano upon which it is, ostensibly, based. But it is, like any spy might be in or after the cold war, unfriendly to strangers. Courting it's favor is a worthwhile endeavor. It is refreshing, crisp and adds spice to life. 

And we could stop there.

But, that said, in the same way that the Martini and the Manhattan are related (initially only differing in proportions and choice of spirit), the Negroni also has a sibling and it surprises me, given James Bond's proclivity for bourbon (not to mention that of his creator Ian Fleming who, when instructed by his doctor to give up gin, simply took up bourbon instead), that he never once in the books or the films, enjoys a Boulevardier.

 The Boulevardier, was the signature drink of Erskine Gwynne (who, by all accounts, looked a bit like a cross between Roger Moore and Patrick MacGoohan, best known for playing John Drake and was turning down the role of James Bond prior to Sean Connery winning the part), expatriate writer, socialite and nephew of railroad tycoon Alfred Vanderbilt, who edited a magazine in Paris called The Boulevardier. It is, in almost every respect, a superior cocktail to the Negroni but it lacks its elite, macho bravado. Which is to say, it is so much more accessible than the Negroni that I suspect it, like the sweet Martini, is considered less-than by the monied and socially well-placed. After all, being in is only relevant as long as you keep someone out.

 But let's not let that silly consideration get in our way, shall we? By switching out the gin for bourbon, the Negroni becomes the Boulevardier which is a darker, sultry sibling of the Manhattan; where the vermouth and bourbon compliment the spice in each others flavor profiles, the addition of Campari is an inspiration in that it dampens the vermouth *and* the bourbon enough to bring out the crowd pleasing best in both spirits. Like most bourbon drinks, this is one that enhances and celebrates the flavor of the bourbon over the others but the result is still balanced and, in the opinion of this writer, more successful. The Campari brings out the vanilla notes in the bourbon and the vermouth enhances the spicier notes. If the Negroni is the light, refreshing sophistication of a cocktail party with the elite, the Boulevardier is the warm, sultry embrace of a new lover.  The Negroni might get you places but the Boulevardier will kiss you like a stranger.  The choice is yours. 

 I have to believe James Bond would have approved.

Officially, the Boulevardier is:
  • 1.5 oz. bourbon 
  • .75 oz. Campari 
  • .75 oz. sweet vermouth 
...stirred long, garnished with a cherry and served up in a cocktail coupe.

My personal tweak is to add 2 goodly dashes of aromatic bitters, discard the cherry and employ an orange peel garnish, flaming it if I'm feeling particularly fabulous. (As long as you twist plenty of oil from the peel, the fire is not required.)

Your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to make or order these two drinks and report back with your findings.

Good luck. And enjoy!

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