The Bon Vivant’s Companion

I’ve been working on this blog post since March.  Not because it’s so special, but because life happened, and then death did.

Originally, my plan was to write about the St. Francis Hotel’s newly opened Clock Bar and their best selling cocktail, the Persephone — a new drink done in a classic style by mixologist Marcovaldo Dionysos (who, unless he’s using a nom de plume, was clearly born to be a bartender.)

The Clock Bar, run by Chef Michael Mina, features world-class bar snacks and a cocktail menu that thinks it’s 1935.  But it’s not 1935.  It’s not even March any more, and this blog post has lingered unwritten long enough…

I’m a sucker for all things mythological and the Persephone, a cocktail made with Charbay vodka, homemade grenadine, and pomegranate juice, struck me as clever (and made me wonder why more libations aren’t named after Olympians…the Hephaestus anyone?)

Persephone, the goddess of spring, and daughter of Demeter (harvest) and Zeus (everything) was a hottie, devil-may-care kind of Olympian until Hades fell for her, dragged her to the underworld, and made her his queen.

Demeter, unable to find her daughter, rendered the earth barren while Persephone was missing.  Needing live people to worship him, and seeing no upside to mass starvation, Zeus stepped in and forced Hades to release his new bride.  Persephone was returned to her mother, but having eaten several seeds from an underworld pomegranate, she was tied to Hades forever.

(Travel advisory – skip the roadside snacks in hell.)

In a rare compromise, the gods decided to share, and Persephone spent the rest of her days splitting time between her mom’s house and her husband’s kingdom.

Mythology meets modern mixology. That was the concept.  That’s what I planned on talking about back in March, but as I said, life happened, and then, ironically, death did.

Shortly after I got home, and busy, and sick, my cousin Jamie died.  She was more than the word cousin implies, she was my little sister, my friend.  Jamie died suddenly, and young, and without much explanation.  Reeling is what I’ve been up to since it happened. In general, mornings have not been seen, work has not been done, and blogs have gone unwritten.

In dealing with the loss of Jamie, and my aunt’s grief, the myth of Persephone has taken on a whole new meaning.  I understand it better.  I know first hand that, if she could, my aunt would make it snow every day until someone gave her Jamie back.

So as the weeks have passed, and the fog has lifted, I’ve decided to revisit the Persephone.  After doing research, and discovering that there isn’t a definitive version of this cocktail (all apologies to Mr. Dionysos) I decided to come up with my own.

Because it’s summer now, I turned to gin as my base spirit.  I added homemade grenadine, pomegranate juice, and a little muddled mint.

Turns out, mint is a sacred plant closely tied to Persephone.  As the story goes, Hades cheated on Persephone with a nymph named Menthe.  When she found out, Persephone trampled on Menthe until she became a sprig of mint.

Maybe I find retribution funny, but I get a kick out of that story.  I think Jamie would too.

Here’s the recipe:
The Persephone
1 ½ oz Plymouth Gin
1 oz Pomegranate Juice
¾ Homemade Grenadine (I chose a recipe created by Jeff Hollinger, owner of Absinthe and author of “Art of the Bar”)
¼ Fresh lime Juice
3 or 4 pieces of mint
Fever Tree Bitter Lemon to taste
Mint for garnish
Put 3 or 4 pieces of mint in a Boston shaker, cover with Grenadine, and muddle ingredients until completely mixed.  Add gin, pomegranate juice, and ice, and shake until chilled.
Pour entire contents of shaker into a rocks glass.  Garnish with mint.

Jamie

Hot Toddy.  Hot Toddy.  Hot Toddy.  I defy you to say that several times quickly without smiling.

I love the name of this cocktail.  To me, a Hot Toddy conjures images of roaring fires, ski lodges, and Clarence (the angel from It’s a Wonderful Life).  Technically, Clarence orders a flaming rum punch in the movie, but I’m pretty sure (had he not been kicked out of the bar) a Toddy would have been next on his list.

Hot Toddies have been around since man discovered spirits could be consumed warm (so — five minutes after spirits were discovered at all – right?).  Typically brandy based, there are hundreds of variations on the classic recipe.

In the 1860’s Jerry Thomas, author, and mixologist extraordinaire, offers no fewer than seven examples of this cocktail.  In the Bon Vivant’s Companion, he gives brandy, whiskey, and gin all equal Toddy treatment.

While the Gin Toddy never caught on, Thomas’ Apple Toddy is worth a second look.  In addition to the traditional ingredients, his recipe calls for ¼ of a baked apple to be placed in the warmed cocktail.

Now, I don’t know if in baked apples were just hanging out in every kitchen and tavern in the 1860’s, but in 2008 that seems a long way to go for garnish.  (A garnish that requires patience, a pre-heated oven, and tons of butter.)

I traded the baked apple for apple cider, and came up with my own take on the Hot Apple Toddy:

Hot Apple Toddy
2 oz Brandy (rum or whiskey can be substituted)
1/2 oz honey
¼ lemon juice
1 cinnamon stick
1 or 2 whole cloves
Apple Cider
Boiling Water
Slice of apple garnish

While boiling water, gently warm the cider and cinnamon stick and cloves in a small pot.  Once it begins to steam (do not boil cider).  In a tall glass add brandy, lemon juice, and honey.  Once warmed, pour cider and spices over the brandy/honey mixture.  Top off with boiling water and stir.

The warm water cuts the sweetness of the juice, and the cider adds a comforting apple flavor to a traditionally simple cocktail (minus the oven, butter, and 45 minute cooking time).  But none of this is set in stone.  Play around with this recipe and find variations that work for you.

There are as many different uses for the Toddy as there are recipes.  Sip one as a festive winter cocktail, on a restless night let the Toddy lull you to sleep, or let it kick the ass of a tough winter cold (cause believe me, it will).  Hear that Clarence? It is a wonderful life.

Punch was a THE drink in early America.

I’m not referring to the sherbet laden slushy stuff your great-aunt pours sprite and “sparkling wine” into.

Early American punch was serious business. Every tavern served it, and every barkeep had a special way of preparing it.  Punch was the “martini” of the 1860’s, a deceptively simple combination of spirits, juice, and ice.

Tavern owners (America’s first bartenders) tossed anything into their punches, but much like today, skillful blending separated boys from men.

The execution of a perfect punch was mixology in its earliest form.

Jerry Thomas, our blog’s muse and author of How to Mix Drinks: or The Bon Vivant’s Companion, opens his tome with recipes for punch and a statement that reads:

“…Thoroughly amalgamating all the compounds, so that the taste of neither the bitter, the sweet, the spirit, not the element, shall be perceptible one over the other, is the grand secret, only to be acquired by practice.

…. as scarcely two persons make punch alike.”

Mr. Thomas’ original Brandy Punch recipe calls for brandy, a dram of sugar, and wine glass of water.

Right.

After much experimentation, this is my version:

Brandy Punch
1 ½ oz Christian Bros. Brandy
(I think brandy gets a bad rap. It’s kinder and gentler than you remember – or think you remember.)
¼ oz Chambord
½ oz Morin Raspberry Syrup
¼ oz Fresh Lemon Juice
¼ oz Fresh Orange Juice
Fresh Fruit for Garnish

Pour all ingredients into a Boston Shaker.  Shake until cold.  Empty the entire contents of shaker into rocks glass.

Garnish with slice of pineapple, raspberries, or lemon – or all of the above.

For my first entry in the category “Companion Cocktails”, I give you The Shrub.

The Shrub?

Nope, not the woody low lying plant your neighbor wants removed from his property line, but the Old English cocktail enjoyed by the Founding Fathers, their fathers, and occasionally, current visitors to Colonial Williamsburg.

Shrub, is derived from the ancient word sharb, meaning “anything alcoholic”, and consists of fruit, sugar, and spirits (usually brandy) reduced into syrup.

Early settlers considered shrubs to be tonics, and they were served in taverns across the new world.  A century later Jerry Thomas, author of “How mix drinks, or The Bon Vivant’s Companion,” committed to paper a recipe for shrub that called for fresh cherries, a gill of brandy, and among other things, cheesecloth.  Not your typical nightcap. 

Today, given refrigeration (vinegar was a natural way to preserve fruit,) the shrub is not as prevalent.  But vinegar as a cocktail mixer is making a comeback.  In bars across America, mixologists are experimenting with high quality vinegars because their tang replaces citrus in a cocktail, and their sweetness adds layers of flavor without being cloying.  Vinegar cocktails are among the high wire acts of mixology, breathtaking, but not for the faint of heart.  Don’t be breaking out that bottle of balsamic to mix with your evening snifter of Christian Brothers just yet. 

My goal in bringing you Mr. Thomas’ recipes in the form of “Companion Cocktails” is to make them accessible, not just theoretical.  Which is why I geeked out upon finding bottled shrub at Surfas (a specialty food store) during the Year of Our Lord 2008.  Made by Tait Farm and based on colonial recipes, these non-alcoholic shrubs are perfect with soda water or lemonade for those not wishing to imbibe. Personally, I recommend (as the architects of our democracy would have) combining Tait’s Shrub with brandy and pouring over ice.  But I’m just a patriot like that.

Cherry Shrub

2 Tablespoons Tait Farm’s Shrub
1 ½ oz brandy
Soda Water

Pour Shrub and brandy in to Boston Shaker over ice.  Shake gently and pour entire contents into tall glass.  Garnish as Jerry Thomas would, with fruits of the season.

The Soolip Wedding Show Crew

Welcome to our very first blog.

I’m in the events business in Los Angeles, and for the last five years I’ve owned a company called Bon Vivant Events. I started out by sending event staff to parties (some of the crew is pictured above). Over the years I added managing special events and planning the occasional party to the list of “things I do”.

Recently, friends began asking me to staff their parties (a dinner party runs smoother with some help in the kitchen), for cocktail suggestions, and general tips on where to get things, and how to get it all done.

It occurred to me that by cataloguing the information friends could check in and use it at their leisure. A blog is born. Its name? The Bon Vivant’s Companion.

Besides the obvious (my company’s name for one), The title comes from the first collection of cocktails ever published, How to Mix Drinks: or The Bon Vivant’s Companion was written in 1860 by Jerry Thomas and remains remarkably relevant today. That is — if shaved ice and fruit garnishes apply to your life at all in 2008.

Tipping my hat to Mr. Thomas I’ll share one cocktail a week from his book in a series called “Companion Cocktails”. Other posts will touch on general mixology, recipes for entertaining, great places to eat, and venues to throw your own events in. I’ll also talk about vendors I use as resources, and introduce you to my team of mixologists.

Most of my blogs will deal with life and times in Los Angeles and San Francisco, but I travel a bit and plan on sharing what I find while I’m out on the road.

Knowing exactly how to begin this blog or when has proven to be a challenge for me. I’m still working on the site’s design,  and want to make sure it’s easy to use, but in order to speed things up I’ve decided to make changes as I go. Please excuse the occasional dust.

My goal is for The Bon Vivant’s Companion to become a casual conversation with friends and those who stumble across us because they too enjoy good food and drink. So I’m going to do what I do best –and just start talking —

Thanks for stopping by.