Mixology Monday: The Tigress

It blows my mind that it has taken my this long this participate in the renowned Mixology Monday. However, in light of the kooky cocktail hijinks I have been up to lately, I am happy that my first is this month's theme dreamt up by Stewart Putney of Putney Farm: "Inverted."
Inspired by Julia Child's upside-down or "inverted" Martini preference, Stewart wrote "What does 'inverted' really mean? Well, here is the definition, 'To turn inside out or upside down; to reverse the position, order, or condition of.' Hmm... It seems that 'inverted' really just means something 'flipped on its head'. And that can mean almost anything, and leaves plenty of room for creativity... You can invert the ratios of spirits, liqueurs or bitters in a cocktail, but we suggest you go beyond that and 'invert' whatever you want."

Refined. Elegant. Subtle.
Not words generally associated with what we lovingly call tiki.
But why not? Tiki's fine aged rums, specialty liqueurs and complex flavor profiles are every bit considered as a perfectly balanced Martinez or Sazerac, and in their heyday, just as glamorous. As winter tiki has been on my mind a lot lately (and not just because it was 82 degrees this February day), my task was plain. So I looked to the boozy classics, the Mai Tai, Zombie, Scorpion, Planter's Punch, Test Pilot, Sunakora and Three Dots and a Dash to cull a deeply flavorful aromatic tiki cocktail. That's right - no fruit, no juice, no freaky garnish. And by golly, it was easier than I expected.

The Tigress

1 oz Smith & Cross Jamaican rum
3/4 oz Lemon Hart Demerara rum
1/2 oz pineapple cordial*
1/4 oz St. Elizabeth Allspice Dram
2 dashes Bittercube blackstrap bitters

Combine ingredients in a mixing glass over ice and stir well.
Strain into a chilled coupe and express oils from an orange peel over top, adding it to the glass as a garnish.

*For the pineapple cordial:
Fill a pint canning jar with freshly cut pineapple pieces. Pour in an ounce of Amaretto, and fill the remaining space with gold Barbados rum (such as Mount Gay). Seal and keep in a cool dark place for at least a week, agitating every day or so. Strain through a fine mesh sieve to extract any and all fruit pulp before use.

Fruity and rummy on the nose, smooth drinking, with a mellow spicy aftertaste. It's totally tiki, but fit for a speakeasy. Of course, as with all tiki recipes, the ingredients are key. Substituting rums will yield considerably different results, and in this case, the bold flavors of the Smith & Cross and Lemon Hart carry more than their weight (especially considering this cocktail is 100% liquor). So enjoy! And thank you Stewart for a fun and inviting first Mixology Monday!

Visit the original announcement post here, and the full Mixology Monday LXX Roundup: Inverted here! So many awesome and creative submissions I will be trying out...

For further inversion of winter tiki, check out my Hot Grog recipe from the Winter Warmer episode of my podcast, The Table Set. (Hot tiki? You bet!)

Buvare: Dark and Stormy Night

Halloween! Not only my favorite holiday, but increasingly my favorite time of year to concoct potent potables, with a decidedly sinister edge. Last year's Witching Hour cocktail was brainy and elegant, but this year for our annual Table Set Halloween podcast I decided to brew something more approachable and thirst-quenching.

The Dark and Stormy is one of the simplest and most delightful cocktails, period. For my adaptation I introduced The Kraken, a black spiced rum of epic proportions, a spicy Jamaican ginger brew and several additional autumnal highlights. Leaving out the eye of newt, this time...

Listen to The Table Set: Dark and Stormy Night

Last year with the glut of pumpkin bourbon I infused for the Witching Hour, I made this impromptu punch for my friends. It was consumed within minutes. Highly recommended for your own gathering of ghouls, named for the Halloween party held in The Legend of Sleepy Hollow before Ichabod Crane's infamous ride home. Beware!

Gala Parfait: Tiki Party

Tiki has become something special to me over the years.
It is not just a kitschy party theme, type of cloyingly sweet drank, or dive bar category. Bizarrely enough it's filed alongside heavyweights like Christmas and New Year's as an important family tradition. Yes, my parents, sister and I do Tiki. And if I do say so myself, we do it damn well.

Initially, the end of summer Tiki Party at my parents' home in Tucson was a heavily-anticipated annual celebration. A break from large family gatherings brimming with kids ("we love your keikis, but this one is for adults"), and the rare party to really have a focus on drinking. Since I was college-aged when the Tiki Party debuted, I was not only surprised by this, but fully on board! Each year seemed to one-up the prior, adding a pit-roasted whole pig, ukelele orchestra, and even tradition hula dancers in full garb. It was a fantastic tradition.

Then one year the invite never went out. Then another year. The masses were restless, when would there be another Tiki Party? I tried to sate myself in California with regular visits to Tiki Ti, Tonga Room, Trader Sam's and with a big fat Tiki episode on my podcast The Table Set, but it wasn't enough. Once I found out my sister Megan missed it as much as me we conspired to convince my parents by any means necessary to bring it back.

Then this year... we finally succeeded.

It's always a whirlwind driving home to Arizona and jumping in to the preparations. It's also always startling opening the fridge in the garage to see Laura Palmer as a pig, awaiting the sacrificial pyre.

Day of, first thing's first - Get that pig going. It takes all afternoon to get a proper tender slow-cooked Kalua-style pig.

The photo opp murals Megan painted are always a hit.

And while the tables are set, I have my hands full with another task.

Shocking, I know - I manage the bar. With the addition of the bamboo tiki hut-style bar this year, things got serious.

Selecting a menu is hardly an easy task. Each year we debate, recounting drink popularity from the previous parties. The true Mai Tai is our collective favorite, but seems to be too boozy for our guests, as we always have the most leftover of it. The Blue Hawaiian is garish, but always a winner. We pre-mix everything in large batches as well, so the recipe has to work in that format - and some ingredients, such as bitters, intensify over time. This year I decided to select all new drinks; Classics that cover very different flavor profiles as well as liquor variety. No need to be rum snobs - It's just not for everybody.

In lieu of the signature Mai Tai I went out on a limb with South Pacific Punch, a potent blend of dark and light rums, fresh orange and lime juices, Falernum and passion fruit syrup. Not for the faint of heart, I think the profile of the spicy Falernum is what set this drink apart.

To satisfy the sweet drink lovers, instead of a neon blue concoction (I just can't get down with Blue Curaçao) I opted for the popular Chi Chi, a vodka-based riff on the Piña Colada with coconut cream, pineapple juice and a dust of nutmeg. Sometimes simplicity is best.

For the first time we introduced a bourbon-based tiki drink, which turned out to be the crowd favorite, the ominous-sounding Polynesian Paralysis. Akin to a Hawaiian-style Mai Tai, this one blends pineapple and citrus juices with orgeat, which marry nicely with the bourbon for a dangerously smooth sipper.

We always try to think of creative ways to keep designated drivers and non-drinkers in on the fun, and this year hibiscus lemonade and tropical iced tea just wasn't going to cut it, so I whipped up a non-alcoholic tiki classic Rainbow Punch. Here pineapple, orange, and lime juices are blended with grenadine, soda, and bitters for a well-disguised virgin.

It was an exhausting night of shaking drinks, so I was happy to have some relief long enough to get in on the Kalua pig and Polynesian potluck before it was all gone.

Perlana, one of the "best dressed" winners enjoys a Chi Chi.

Yes, no matter how much math and careful planning goes into our batch drink making, we always over-do it and have SO much leftover. Not a huge complaint, but it suffices to say that Tiki Party turns into Tucson Tiki WEEK. Aw well, maybe we'll get it right next year... Oh yes, there will be a next year.

Gala Parfait: Yuletide Christmas Punch

On The Table Set, I am referred to as the "punch guy." So for our holiday party I knew I really had to step it up and make something special. In lieu of a default sparkling wine punch with cranberries and lemon wheels I delved further, exploring old English Christmas punches and colonial tea-based punches. I came up with this Yuletide Christmas Punch, borrowing from the best and creating a mellow, dry, spicy and earthy rum punch that warms the soul while it quenches.

Yuletide Christmas Punch

These ingredients should make two healthy batches. Note that the strong black tea and demerara syrup can be made well in advance, and all ingredients chilled until the punch is mixed. (The ice mold is not meant to chill the ingredients as much as retain their cool temperature.)

1 bottle (750ml) dark rum
1 bottle (750ml) spiced rum
1 bottle (750ml) brandy
1 bottle (750ml) dry Lambrusco
2 liters club soda
1 quart strong black tea
1 cup fresh orange juice
1 cup fresh lemon juice
2 cups demerara sugar
3 small oranges or tangerines
cinnamon stick
cloves
star anise
tarragon
nutmeg

One day ahead, fill a bundt pan with water, cover with plastic wrap and freeze overnight.

Prepare strong tea by bringing a quart of water to a near boil. Pour into a heat-proof vessel with 8 black tea bags and cinnamon stick. Set aside to steep and cool.

Return saucepan to stove and begin warming a pint of water over medium heat.

Rub a lemon in a non-reactive dish of sugar until the sugar takes the color from the lemon, absorbing its oils. Add a splash of hot water and stir to make a paste, or 'sherbet'. Set aside.

Add 2 cups demerara sugar to the saucepan and stir until completely dissolved and syrup just comes to a boil. Remove from heat and let cool.

Using the tip of a knife, score and stud oranges with cloves to make pomanders. Wrap in foil and place in the oven at 200 degrees for ten minutes or until fragrant. Remove from the oven.

In a punch bowl combine exactly half the bottles of Lambrusco, rums, brandy, tea and juices. Stir in the sherbet, and demerara syrup to taste, approximately half of the batch.

Remove decorative ice mold from freezer. Place bundt pan into a bowl of warm water to loosen the ice from the mold. Carefully lower ice mold (or block ice) into punch base, and top with one liter chilled club soda. Garnish with pomanders, fresh tarragon sprigs, star anise, and a generous dusting of freshly grated nutmeg.

When the punch requires refreshment, add the remaining ingredients and stir until combined.

Buvare: Little Dom's Sno Ball

Sometimes you just HAVE to try something, and it will plague your every waking hour until you submit. That was my week after reading about Little Dom's summer offering of alchoholic shaved ice Sno Balls.
Leaving work early today, Cara and I cruised down to our favorite neighborhood joint for a couple of frosty balls. I got the Coconut Cream Sno Ball, shaved ice toasted coconut-infused evaporated milk and a no-nonsense shot of Old New Orleans Cajun Spice Rum on the side.
Cara opted for the Chocolate Sno Ball made with bittersweet Valrhona cocoa powder.

Though a nice idea, and quite tasty, consuming the hardened shaved ice and sidecar of rum in a brimming paper cup was... really a logistical nightmare. The tables on either side of us watched in disinterested awe as we silently fiddled with our balls using tiny plastic spoons, letting out an occasional "oh jeez!"
The woman next to us put it best when she exclaimed "it's really an event!"
The Sno Balls are available loaded up from Little Dom's, or of the virginal variety from Little Dom's Deli next door. Challenge your summer with a cocktail that's also a crowd-winning parlour game.

2128 Hillhurst Ave. Los Feliz; 323.661.0055
littledoms.com

Buvare: First & Hope

A weekend morning at Sunset Junction is never complete without a good haunt at Barkeeper - possibly my favorite retail shop in the city. A couple of weeks ago between flirts with the bitters and artisan cocktail syrup selections (by way of the patient and always enthusiastic sales clerks), a flier on the counter caught my eye. The following night Iron Bar Chef Tony Abou-Ganim was having a cocktail book launch at the new First & Hope Downtown Supper Club, featuring visiting bartenders from around the country - and I had already decided I was most definitely going to attend.

A burst of life tucked back in the corner of a sleepy business complex a block from the Walt Disney Concert Hall, Fist & Hope is an unexpected high class joint. A flight of regally dressed ladies greeted us inside the glass doors, an oblong divan, draping chandelier and enomatic wine system pulled our attention toward the bar side. A gorgeous gleaming wood bar, curving walls, deco ceiling tiles, and cool-toned lighting effortlessly created a chic mystique.

The uniforms at First & Hope are simply impossible to ignore, perfectly tailored satin grey numbers on the ladies and fitted white cocktail coats on the men, evoking a vintage elegance a la Mad Men - appropos as we found out costume designer Janie Bryant of Mad Men designed the meticulously fitted get ups.

The evening's premiere event Red Rover, Red Rover got its name when cocktail consultant for First & Hope's beverage program Aidan Demarest decided to bring over an array of visiting mixologists for the debut: Erick Castro of The Rickhouse in San Francisco, Misty Kalkofen of Drink in Boston, John Lermayer of the Delano Hotel in Miami, and Juan Sevilla of LA’s Soho House.

This dream team delivered an INSANELY good cocktail menu! We decided to go down the list and try everybody's specialties, two by two. First and possibly a favorite was Erick Castro's sophisticated Statesman (above), an herbaceous dry cocktail differentiated from a standard Gin martini by a whisper of Rothman & Winter Pear, Chartreuse, and orange bitters. THE most refreshing and elegant drink, probably ever. Castro's flipside offering Little Monster's Exotic Punch packed a spicy Caribbean wallop, served from a punch bowl at the end of the bar. The wicked concoction blended Clement VSOP Rum, Dry Sack Oloroso 15 yr Sherry, Allspice Dram, fresh lime, cane sugar, grated nutmeg, and sparkling water.

At our corner of the bar, Boston's charming Misty Kalkofen busted some serious behind, shaking and stirring cocktails two at a time all night with a hearty laugh. We tried her menu offerings next, the St. Pierre (Clement Premiere Canne Rum, Green Chartreuse, fresh lemon and white grapefruit juices) was a pleasant beachfront sipper, while the smart and lusty La Revelacion was just that - a revelation. The ingenious potion of Spanish Brandy, Dry Sack, Sherry, Rhum Clement Creole Shrub, and absinthe. Sounds plain stiff, but it was remarkably smooth and palatable.

We moved next into the back room, a Guys and Dolls-esque jazz club aptly called the Fedora. A gleaming grand piano held court over the small club while a second bar was stirring cocktails fervently.

We ordered a pair of Juan Sevilla's spirited libations seated at our corner booth, enjoying the music and vibe. Summer in Martinique was sweet and hot, with Rhum Clement, Habanero-infused agave nectar, Aperol, and fresh lemon. Smokin' Redcoat was a sophisticated layering of Martin Miller's Gin, Carpano Antica Formula and Mescal. Wowza!

Out of nowhere, a white coat appeared with a tray and the best line of the night "14 karat gold dusted bacon fudge??" Why yes, of  course!

The other most amusing among the hors d'oeuvres were the cotton candy style air-puffed "Jolly Ranchers". Yes, they tasted exactly like those fruity sweet morsels from our childhood.

After some more noshing and sloshing, we moved on from the Fedora to the book signing area. Tony was deep in flirtatious conversation with a semi-circle of fans, while co-writer Mary Elizabeth Faulkner smiled sweetly, quietly signing alongside. While Tony didn't look up when signing my book and misspelled my name, Mary Elizabeth was engaging and even pointed me in the direction of some killer recipes that seemed up my alley. We thanked her for being such a sugar, and with one final lap to thank the bartenders, decided to call it a night.

Once outside again we were back in the unassuming quiet corner of downtown. The Walt Disney Concert Hall and Ahmanson Theatre glimmered beyond the fountain as we smiled at our fortune for such a lovely and unexpected night.

First & Hope Downtown Supper Club
710 W First St. Downtown LA; 213.617.8555
firstandhope.com