Get 27 in Europe is highly regarded but hard to come by in the U.S. Recently, a manufacturer with offices in both France and the Napa valley in northern California called Tempus Fugit has taken it upon themselves to give new life to such forgotten and maligned victims of cocktail fashion as crème de menthe, crème de cacao and, yes, that elixir that makes a vesper, well, a Vesper; a proper kina in their Kina lÁvion d'Or; based on an ancient recipe (or so we would believe).
Taking the road less traveled from most commercial créme de menthes, the Tempus Fugit product (Créme de Menthe Glacial) tastes more like fresh mint with a hint of menthol and other compatible herbaceous flavors than any product currently on the market. More potent in terms of flavor than simply muddling your own mint but stopping just this side of cloying or overly potent, Tempus Fugit Crème de Menthe Glacial is a syrupy mix but one borne of the Earth, not of the factory. With a vegetal nature that shines through the sweetness of the beverage, it tastes rich, deep (in that you'll likely not decipher its secrets in one sitting) and authentic. This writer is, perhaps, too old (older than 12!) to enjoy this liqueur straight but I have tasted it in the hands of master mixologists and found it more than compelling (and, to be fair, I don't drink any liqueur straight).
Of course, the reason behind this diatribe is that the Stinger Cocktail, which Bond enjoys twice in the novels, is traditionally made with cognac and créme de menthe.
While it dates back to the final days of the pre-prohibition era, the Stinger is possibly the quintessential high society drink for the prohibition era; it is short, fast, potent (hence its name) and easy to make, providing you could get your hands on a decent brandy. When Bond drinks them at all, it is for dessert in posh establishments such as Club 21 in New York and the Nassau Casino which Fleming describes as "a well-run, elegant place that deserves its profit." This is traditional but, as with many of Bond's tastes and attitudes, a little out of step with the time as Reginald Vanderbilt (father of Gloria and grandfather of CNN anchor Anderson Cooper) had, in the 1920's, popularized the Stinger as a less of a digestif and more of a cocktail; which is to say: a drink decent folks could drink at any time of day, morning, noon or night and not just after a good meal.
As an after dinner drink, the Stinger is certainly adequate and, if we're honest, we'd rather read about 007 downing a few cocktails for dessert than visualize him tucking into a bowl of ice cream or munching a rice crispy treat like the rest of us. Not only does the choice of a Stinger tell us about Bond's class consciousness but the fact that he has it for dessert tells us a little about his slightly old fashioned tastes and sense of propriety. Bond does not drink Stingers interchangeably with martinis or with old fashioned cocktails. They have their place and their place is after dinner. And, in this, he is correct. As a digestif or after dinner drink, the Stinger is thick, sweet and refreshing and it serves to communicate to ones possibly over-worked palette that the meal has come to a close.
The best recipe I could find for the Stinger was in David Wondrich's book Imbibe!:
- 2.25 oz. cognac (I used Remy Martin cognac V.S.O.P.)
- .75 oz. créme de menthe
Shaken, not stirred. I know, it's a spirits-forward cocktail and should, as such be stirred but the crème de menthe is so viscous that it requires a bit of shaking and the resulting dilution from the shaking process is a kindness, particularly when you consider this drink is supposed to be served up in a cocktail glass.
The problem for me is that as a cocktail or stand-alone libation, it doesn't quite work. Too much liqueur makes the drink too sweet, too little makes it harsh, off balance and no careful balancing of the two ingredients gives it the depth of flavor I feel it needs. After experimenting with different proportions and even with different base spirits, substituting brandy for rye and going back again, I decided the best option was to err on the side of too much sweetness and try augmenting it with another element. After all, Reginald Vanderbilt, the most famous proponent of the drink as more than just a dessert tipple, liked a dash of absinthe in his and, to my tastes, this adds just the depth the stinger needs to stand on it's own as a cocktail. Jason Wilson, author of Boozehound, calls this a Stinger Royale. I believe James Bond would have raised his eyebrow at that and then ordered two or three doubles in a row before playing a few rounds of Chemin de Fer.
The Stinger Royale a'la Legendre Thirst:
- 2.25 oz. cognac
- .5 oz. to .75 oz. (to taste) Tempus Fugit Crème de Menthe Glacial (if you're in Europe, you might pick up a bottle of Get 27 brand Crème de Menthe)
- 1 dash absinthe (or, if you have them, Cocktail Kingdom Wormwood Bitters are good too)
- Lemon Twist
Shaken and served on the rocks
The sweetness of the drink makes it immediately accessible, even to those to typically prefer juice-based drinks while the brandy gives the drink a satisfying body in the finish which is graced every so elegantly by the absinthe.
The Stinger Royale is still very much at its best as an after dinner drink, owing to the sweetness and the mint but a good friend (and experienced cocktail enthusiast) says she might be just as likely to enjoy her stinger before a robust meal. Or after a robust meal. Or in the middle of the day whilst considering a robust meal. Or with coffee to get her constitution ready for breakfast. Or after breakfast.
Use quality ingredients with the above percentages and I couldn't really see how you could go wrong with that plan.
Tempus Fugit is on Facebook, Twitter (@TFSpirits), on the web and their products are carried by quality craft spirits retailers. I do not have an affiliation with them, only an appreciation of their products.
