Sazerac

Technically, the Sazerac isn't so much a Bond cocktail as it is a Leiter cocktail since it's Felix Leiter who orders them while the pair investigate a lead at the Fillet of Soul bar in Harlem in the film version of Live and Let Die. And, sadly, Bond never actually gets to try one because his table sinks into the floor and he is captured by the film's super groovy villain, Mr. Big.

Which is a shame because James Bond would have loved the Sazerac and it might have given a little spice and flavor to this otherwise rather drab entry in the series. It is straight forward, butch and incredibly sensual which is remarkable given how few ingredients are in it.

Sazerac cocktail with absurdly long lemon twist.

This is probably the point where I should come clean and admit that the Sazerac is one of my all-time favorite cocktails. I won't even pretend to be a little objective about this cocktail. It is magnificent. If I were sent to a desert isle with only the makings of one cocktail, I'd likely choose the Sazerac (although I would dearly miss my martini).  I am not a huge fan of anise-flavored spirits but the rinse of absinthe interacts with the rye that brings out the oak, vanilla, tobacco and other notes not usually as present in the whiskey. And it does it in a way that isn't cloying or harsh. Whoever it was coined the phrase "more than a sum of it's parts" was talking about the Sazerac cocktail (not really) or should have been. The flavor of the rye and the flavor of the absinthe almost cancel each other out and become something new entirely with only the best qualities of each remaining.

Initially made with cognac until the phylloxera epidemic of the 1880's and has since been made with rye whiskey, probably because it was easily obtainable and popular in the region. And because it is so old, there is a correct way to make a Sazerac and many incorrect ways; most of which will yield the same drink*. Yes, making a Sazerac is as much respecting mythology as it is mixology.

Strip all the lore away and this is really just a brilliant riff on the Old Fashioned cocktail. It's spirits, sugar, bitters and one extra ingredient, in this case, absinthe. Add a twist of lemon instead of the controversial and entirely unnecessary maraschino cherry and you have an amazing cocktail that only superficially resembles its predecessor.

The "correct" way to make a Sazerac (more or less):

1. Fill a rocks glass with ice (and perhaps cold water) and put to the side to cool.
2. Put a single sugar cube (or more, if you don't like your pride too much) in a second rocks glass
3. Add .5 oz. water to disolve the sugar, and drench the sugar cube in Peychaud's bitters until it's completely red.
4. Muddle the sugar cube until it's mostly dissolved in the water and bitters mixture.
5. Add 2 oz. rye whiskey and stir.
6. Pour ice water out of glass #1 but keep the ice in. Add the whiskey, bitters and sugar from glass #2 and stir for 20 seconds or so.
7. In glass #2, pour in roughly a teaspoon of absinthe, swirl it around to coat the inside of the glass and discard it.
8. Strain the cocktail from glass #1 to glass #2 and then twist a bit of lemon peel (having removed the pith) over the top, run the zest across the top of the glass and either discard or drop the garnish in according to taste (I'd like mine in, please).
9. Kneel in the direction of New Orleans and pay your respects to Tom Handy, ex-manager of the Sazerac Bar

Okay, I made up that last step. But still, if 8 steps sounds like a lot of work for a cocktail with only 4 ingredients, that's because it is.

Here's how I make mine:

1. Put the following into a cocktail shaker or, failing that, pint glass:

• 2 oz. rye whiskey
• 2 dashes Peychaud's bitters (I use 1 goodly dash for each ounce of whiskey. Making a 3 oz. Sazerac? Use 3 dashes)
• 1 to 2 tsp. simple syrup (Or, better yet, gum syrup. For people new to the Sazerac or spirits-forward drinks, I often start with 2 tsp. to ease them into it)

2. Stir with ice for at least 20 seconds. More if your rye is overproof (higher than 80 proof)

3. Rinse a pre-chilled rocks glass with absinthe (if you make a lot of these, it's worth it to use a spray mister to minimize waste of the absinthe)

4. Strain cocktail into the absinthe coated glass

5. Twist lemon peel over the top so the oils from the zest coat the surface of the drink and drop in. Unlike the Old Fashioned, the garnish in this case is not optional. The lemon twist is a key part of the flavor profile.

Dilution is powerful magic. Over dilute and you have weak drink. Don't dilute enough and you have fire water burning a hole in your mouth before you can even get to the flavor. This is cool if you want to show how tough you are but not so cool if you want to make drinks both you and your guests will love.

Another point: Sugar, like salt, is a flavor carrier. It doesn't just make drinks sweeter, it does a lot to open up the complex flavors in spirits.  And, in rye and absithe, there are a lot of flavors just waiting for you to unlock them. If you're used to sweeter drinks, go ahead and use more sugar than the recipe calls for; chances are, you'll end up dialing it back over time to the single teaspoon (aka sugar cube) specified in the recipe.

About the ingredients: Use something decent. The rye has nothing to hide behind so if you go with a cheap brand, you're going to get a cheap tasting result. I like Bulleit and Sazerac as good standard rye whiskeys for this drink. There are others but don't skimp if you can help it.  I like St. George Spirits' absinthe but Kubler or Lucid will do. Stay away from anything died green (Le Torment, aptly named) or, oddly, red.

Also, since this cocktail was originally made with brandy, try a cognac in place of the rye. Or, since they compliment each other so well (cognac adding body to the spicey, sometimes strident rye), try a half rye/half cognac Sazerac for a wonderfully rich alternative.

Cheers!



*I say "most" because once I was served what the bartender insisted was a Sazerac with lemon juice in it. We went back and forth and she instisted that, because she was standing behind the bar slinging drinks, I must have been mistaken. I have only found one book that listed this variation and listed it as a variation, not the original. Still, if your Sazerac has juice of any kind in it, send it back. And tell that bartender that vermouth doesn't belong in an Old Fashioned either and she should really take up another line of work.

 •••

Old Fashioned

  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.