The Bitter Truth

If you know me, you may still be shaking your head a bit, wondering how and why I would start writing about cocktails. I, too, sometimes catch myself and wonder the same thing. It wasn't  a book of fiction in my hands last night before going to bed, it was a book all about bitters! And to be totally honest, I found it compelling reading. Mid-life crisis gone haywire? I really don't think so. To me, this new-found interest in beverages is just a natural extension of my love for cooking and baking.  There is also great lore around cocktails and the ingredients that go into them, which helps feed the history buff in me. In fact, just last night as I was immersed in Brad Thomas Parsons' book on bitters, I learned of the "Great Angostura Shortage of 2009-2010". I, apparently, am a few years off in discovering the allure of the little bottle with the over-sized label because demand for it in 2009 became so great that the company  became overwhelmed with orders, creating a horrible supply/demand disaster for bitter aficionados. Angostura was nowhere to be found. Popularity of the product was growing, the company that manufactures the bottles had trouble keeping up with orders, and many a bartender scrambled to replace a flavor they had grown accustomed to.  One upside of The Great Shortage was the growth of micro bitters brewers. Say that ten times as fast as you can. Mr. Parsons himself highlights almost two dozen small scale bitters makers, and he includes a section on making your own. So if you're keen to find some gentian root and eye of newt, you, too, could make your own bitters. I was joking about eye of newt.

There is another reason for my interest in learning about drinks. I have long had this desire to be able to go up to a bartender and rattle off a list of drinks I might like to try. Better yet if I can help said bartender should he or she be uncertain of the ingredients. Before I started this blog, that list of "go to" drinks could be counted (very easily) on one hand. So dismal was my knowledge that I  traditionally settled for wine. But now that I am curling up in bed with books about cocktails and bitters, I am happy to report that my drink list is starting to extend to my other hand.

My first exposure to cocktails came my freshman year in college thanks to New York state's very generous drinking age of 18. The one-light town where my college was located had more bars than was truly necessary for a student body that seldom reached 2,000 any given semester. The go-to drink back then, when it wasn't Rolling Rock, was the whiskey sour. When we were feeling really ambitious, we might order an Amaretto sour. So grown-up were we. I don't  find whiskey to be an automatic love, but I do enjoy whiskey sours. After tackling gin fizzes last weekend, I thought that scaling back to a whiskey sour this week would be a wise decision. Turns out, sours aren't as easy as they seem, especially if you are avoiding store-bought sour mixes. Somehow, it just didn't seem right for me not to learn to make my own.

Naively I thought making my own sour mix would be as easy as simple syrup. I should have noticed that they don't call it Simple Sour Mix. The basic ingredients are always the same: water, sugar, and sour in the form of lemon juice and/or lime juice. But the balance of ingredients varies widely, so there's personal preference to consider when mixing.

And then there's whiskey. Do you have any idea how many types of whiskey exist on liquor store shelves? And have you ever stepped foot in one of those mega liquor stores? Overwhelming does not begin to describe what happens when a neophyte like myself goes down aisle after aisle of alcohol. I blindly chose Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey for no other reason than its familiar name and reasonable price. When I got home with my little bottle, I was relieved to find a recipe for whiskey sours by Ina Garten that called specifically for this type of whiskey, but I'm sure there are others that would say I chose all wrong. It will take many more years of blogging before I can educate you on the finer points of whiskey.  Remember that I am just trying to extend my go-to list beyond one hand right now.

So here's the recipe. As I said, I fiddled with the balance of ingredients to figure out what tasted right to me. And I will honestly admit that sampling one the other day at 2 o'clock in the afternoon did seem a little strange, but this is the sacrifice I make for you, dear readers. To be honest, most of my "samples" ended up down the drain, so it's really my wallet that suffers the most. Yes, that is a maraschino cherry garnishing the drink -- definitely not one of my favorites but used solely for color. I've begun researching better alternatives, but the Italian cherries I ordered just haven't arrived yet. I'll save that discussion for a future blog. This recipe makes a little more than will fit in a cocktail glass, so you can keep the extra for a refill or hand out as a sample. Your choice.  

Whiskey Sour
1 1/2 oz. whiskey (I used Tennessee)
1 oz. fresh lime juice
1 oz. fresh lemon juice
2 generous ounces of simple syrup

Pour the ingredients into a shaker and add 4 to 6 ice cubes, depending on how strong you would like your drink. I use cubes that are roughly 1-inch cubed (yes, that picture up above was placed there for more than decorative reasons). Shake vigorously for at least 20 seconds; this will help develop a nice foam on top. Garnish with an orange slice and cherry.

Ege'sze'ge're! (That's "Here's to You" in Hungarian. Do they drink whiskey sours in Hungary? I have no idea.)