Cèilidh Nam Freumhan

Tag: mixology

  • The Night They Put Lime in My Sazerac

    The Night They Put Lime in My Sazerac

    A few years ago, I decided to start making my own cocktails at home.

    There were several reasons for this. First, paying $15 for a cocktail is ridiculous. Second, too many bars serve inconsistent drinks. And third, there is nothing more disappointing than ordering a favorite cocktail and getting something completely out of balance.

    The final push came on my birthday.

    My spouse and I visited a local speakeasy that I had enjoyed before. It was a charming place: Prohibition-era cocktails, a small intimate room, and a password required to get through the door. Unfortunately, this visit was memorable for all the wrong reasons.

    My spouse asked the bartender a question about one of the top-shelf bourbons. The bartender pulled the bottle down and slammed it onto the bar without saying a word. From that point forward, things only got worse. Our cocktails arrived in the wrong glassware, and they weren’t made correctly. At one point, my Sazerac arrived with lime in it.

    A Sazerac.

    With lime.

    Some crimes cannot be forgiven.

    On the way home, we stopped at a liquor store. I bought a few bottles and decided that if I wanted a proper Sazerac, I was going to learn how to make one myself.

    It turned out to be one of the better decisions I’ve made.

    Around that same time, I had watched far too many episodes of Bar Rescue. For all its drama, the show taught me something important: balance matters. A bartender who pours extra liquor into your drink isn’t necessarily doing you a favor. Every ingredient is there for a reason. The goal is not to taste the alcohol; the goal is to create something where the ingredients work together.

    The more I learned, the more I noticed inconsistencies when I went out. At one upscale restaurant in town, I watched a bartender make two copies of the same specialty cocktail. They came out noticeably different shades of green. That should never happen. A cocktail should look and taste the same every single time.

    These days, I have a growing collection of bar tools: jiggers, pour spouts, bar spoons, mixing glasses, strainers, and pretty much everything else a home bartender could want.

    And before anyone says it: a pony is not a jigger.

    A pony measures 1 ounce and 1/2 ounce. A jigger measures 2 ounces and 1 ounce. I will die on this hill.

    I use those tools, too. Every pour gets measured. Every recipe gets followed. Consistency matters.

    For what it’s worth, I make a heck of a Sazerac.

    Historical reenactment.

  • Bring Back a Shrubbery!

    As someone who has become increasingly committed to using what I already have, I’m always looking for creative ways to avoid wasting food.

    Which brings us to three persimmons.

    Two days ago, I had three persimmons that had become far too squishy for me to willingly allow into my mouth. It’s a texture thing, okay?

    After some searching, I found a recipe for something called a shrub—a sweetened vinegar syrup that can be mixed into everything from bourbon cocktails to sparkling water.

    Naturally, I had to try it.

    The process begins by peeling the persimmons and squishing out the insides.

    Shudder.

    The resulting pulp goes into a bowl. The basic ratio is about 1:1 fruit to sugar, so I combined 1 cup of persimmon pulp with 1 cup of sugar. I also added roughly a tablespoon of ginger powder because it sounded like a good idea at the time.

    I covered the bowl with plastic wrap and left it in the refrigerator overnight.

    The next morning—at approximately 6:40 a.m., for reasons I still cannot explain—I strained out the solids and was left with about 2 ounces of syrup.

    solids separated from syrup
    This will be great in yogurt or something later.

    The solids weren’t wasted. I saved them in a separate container with plans to add them to yogurt later.

    Next came the vinegar.

    I chose apple cider vinegar because I thought it would pair nicely with the sweetness of the persimmons. Most shrub recipes call for a 1:1 ratio of syrup to vinegar, but since this was my first attempt, I approached it cautiously.

    After all, you can always add more vinegar.

    You cannot un-vinegar something.

    I started at about 50% of the recommended amount and gradually worked my way up to around 75%, tasting as I went.

    Once I was happy with the balance, I transferred everything to a mason jar and gave it a good shake.

    Then I tasted it.

    Wow.

    This is going to be good.

    4 ounces of shrub in a jar
    At least this wasn’t days of work to only get 4 ounces.

    At the time of writing, I haven’t actually used it in a drink yet. I want to give the flavors another day or two to mingle before I start experimenting.

    Besides, I only ended up with about 4 ounces of shrub.

    If it’s as good as I think it’s going to be, I need to exercise at least a little self-control.