The Kir
The Kir is white wine with a bit of crème de cassis (black currant liqueur). It sounds sophisticated and simple. Well that’s half right anyway. Cassis is fantastic though. I can imagine making a simple syrup with cassis and coming up with a delicious topping for pancakes, waffles, ice cream…
White wine
1/2 ounce creme de cassis
The first one I made I put in too much cassis which would have made for an unappealing photo. Before pouring it out, I stirred it up and tasted it. It tasted pretty good actually. It made the bottom shelf wine much more interesting. Then I made one to look a little more like the picture in the book (since DeGroff doesn’t give any measurement guidance for the wine). I stirred it up to taste and it just tasted like bad wine. I would say that if you have some mediocre white wine around but you don’t want to pour it down the drain, put in about a 3/4 ounce of cassis (for a regular sized white wine glass), stir it up and enjoy. Otherwise, I don’t know why anyone would suffer this thing.
The Kir Royale
This is the same as above only with Champagne substituting for the white wine. Now this I like. It might be the quality of the wine, as for this I used Korbel and for the Kir I think I used Unkle Jethro’s Perverted Grape Juice. But as with the Kir, you have to stir the cassis up into the wine to get the flavor. Sure it looks cool in the pictures but…
I imagine you could make this drink with any good quality fruit-based or berry-based liqueur. What if you put Cointreau in Champagne? Or some of the overpriced bottle of crème de violette I still have after making one disappointing Aviation Cocktail? Let’s try it, shall we?
Ten minutes later…
Frothing The Violet
The Frothing The Violet (A Bent at the Elbow Original)
Well, now, that was inspired! Pour a flute of Champagne or sparkling wine, then gently pour Rothman & Winter Crème de Violette into the glass. Only pour 3/4 of an ounce at first and let it settle at the bottom. You get a beautiful bluish cloud resting down there. Then pour another 1/4 ounce or so and gently stir to combine. What you get is a steel blue liquid, bubbly to the nose and buds with the subtle sweet perfume of violets.
Why Frothing The Violet? When stirred a bit too eagerly the drink foams up and the bursting bubbles let loose the violet essence. Plus the name made me laugh until snot came out.
The French 75
Ordinarily I wouldn’t be able to reconcile how this deserves to be a drink on it’s own merit. It’s simply a Tom Collins but with champagne instead of club soda. Two things absolutely invalidate my negative first impression though: It has an outstanding origin story and it is lip-smackingly delicious.
1 3/4 ounces gin
1/2 ounce fresh squeezed lemon juice
1/2 ounce simple syrup
Champagne
Shake the gin, lemon juice, and simple syrup with ice. Strain into a large flute or goblet with ice and a lemon peel. Fill the rest with Champagne or sparkling wine.
To read The Essential Cocktail‘s account, some United States servicemen in France during World War I were beside themselves with the desire for a Tom Collins (gin, lemon, club soda). They had gin and lemons…but no club soda. Well, Champagne is fizzy and France is just lousy with bottles of Champagne. Voila. The French 75. Oh and the name…the French artillery shells were 75mm.
The Bijou
This cocktail’s history is as old as the Martini and the Manhattan. But for some reason it didn’t remain as popular. I don’t know why though. It has the mystique of Chartreuse, another of the worlds weird herbal liqueurs crafted by monks in France.
I taste black pepper. Don’t ask me to explain. I can barely taste the gin. I used Tanqueray No.10 because I anticipated this to be a cocktail subject to nuance. Turns out I’m an idiot. The strong flavors of sweet vermouth and Chartreuse pretty much beat the soft floral No.10 into submission. It’s sharp and slightly sweet but after the Kir, the Kir Royale, the Frothing The Violet, and the French 75, I don’t think I’ve got the palate left to figure out what the hell is going on in this glass. I feel redeemed by the cool lemon peel though.
Thanks to Joe McKenna for bringing me some Chartreuse so I wouldn’t have to shell out 40 bones for one drink.
