The Overlook Cocktail

Even now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high. - Job 16:19

Recently I had the good fortune to finally track down a bottle of the mythical Advocaat, an egg-based Dutch concoction that played a pivotal part in the Stanley Kubrick film The Shining. I didn't know what to expect, but I was a bit taken aback by its viscous texture and ripe custard funk.


So what to do with it? At first I tried the logical first thing that entered my mind - the mixture that Jack Nicholson in the film jokes about after Grady the Satanic Butler spills Advocaat all over him and into his own drink:

Bourbon and Advocaat.

Although "add bourbon to it" is almost always a surefire solution to any dilemma about what to do with any given liqueur, this time it just didn't work for me. Advocaat is such a thick and cloying substance, the bourbon just gets lost in it unless you add a lot. And frankly, I just don't want to waste that much Russell's. The sharp custardy taste of Advocaat doesn't mix well with bourbon anyway - it isn't like Egg Nog at all, as I had presumed it would be.


This is probably best geared towards enhancing its weird sweetness, rather than trying to combat it. Southern Comfort might blend better with it than bourbon, but I don't have any in the JSH liquor cabinet and didn't really feel like going out and buying some just for a long-shot experiment.

No, clearly this is a job for Amaretto. Throw weird sweetness at weird sweetness. The recipe is simple: equal parts Amaretto and Advocaat.

Today was an unseasonably warm day, so I spent a pleasant hour this Christmas Eve Eve sitting on the old veranda, basking in the sun and sipping an ice cold... er.... what do I call this? How about the Overlook Cocktail? (So named for the film's Overlook Hotel)


But, my faithful acolytes and adepts, I can't bullshit you. If the question was put to me, will you ever fix this drink again?, I gotta say no. It's just too rich, too eggy, too much like a stale flan strained through too much dishwater to be helped by creekwater. Though I appreciate its mythic resonance and lineage, this is one devil I don't need to dance with in the pale moonlight.

(I did scan the web for inspiration, but everyone else's recipes sounded even worse than mine. Check out the Fluffy Duck, a truly turgid-sounding mix of Advocaat, creme de cacao, and 7up.)

December Status Report

I haven't been posting to this blog in quite a while, mainly because I haven't been concocting anything new lately. Unlike a lot of drink-recipe blogs by people who don't actually make the drinks they talk about, I only report on what I'm drinkin'. And this fall and winter, I've found myself sticking to my recent discoveries. It's hard to experiment with new cocktails when I just keep buying more and more bottles of Zwack.

And when I'm out and about, I've tended to fall into a comfortable rut of frozen margaritas at Ernesto's and Fiesta Mexicana. But oh, what a festive rut!

Meanwhile, the dangerously dumb trend of alcoholic energy drinks has been dealt a serious blow, I'm happy to report. I've ranted here previously against Jagerbombs, the unholy pairing of Jagermeister and Red Bull (I wouldn't even drink Red Bull by itself, not even if you paid me) and now you can click here to share in my glee about Four Loko being forced to change its formula.

There's other impending news in the offing, though it's not quite time to speak of it here. But I will say that my old eatin'-and-drinkin' column Nightlife Notes will soon return as part of a new journalistic endeavor that will be launched on January 1st.

Stay tuned, pallies. The rollercoaster is about to begin.

Mad Men Cocktail Culture

I don't have an iPhone and probably never will (played with 'em many times, but I just don't like 'em and don't understand the hype), so I won't get to try out this intriguing gee-gaw: the AMC "Mad Men Cocktail Culture" iPhone app. Says here: "Think you can make an Old Fashioned as good as Don Draper can? This new game challenges your skills at mixing '60s-era cocktails." Of course, I have no idea who's judging at the other end, and those of us who came out of the box with that Don Draper feeling don't need approval from some electronic gizmo anyhoo.

Deep-fried Beer

Breaking news in the gentlemanly sciences: a Texas man has successfully found a way to deep-fry beer. Look upon his works, ye Mighty, and despair.

Apparently, the trick is to have a pocket of beer trapped inside a ravioli made of pretzel dough which then gets deep-fried at 375 degrees for about 20 seconds. According to the report, this is just enough time to cook the dough but not to evaporate the beer, nor to cook out the alcohol from it. Mark Zable said it took him three years to get it just right, and he's filed for a patent on the process. According to his website, he's going global with this baby: "If you are interested in purchasing Fried Beer for your restaurant or bar, please use the Contact Us page and send us an email."

I'm going to have to try this out for myself at home, of course, strictly in the name of science and all its wonders. Stay tuned for a Kentuckified spin on Zable's Texan-fried treat.

Almond Pear Martini

Who doesn't love pears? And almonds? And Platinum 7X vodka?

Although Looza makes a nice bottled pear juice, I happen to have a flotilla of these jars of pears in syrup, and dumping them down the juicer for martini purposes seemed like to good way to clean out my pantry.

Originally I simply set out to have a simple pear-juice martini, but then a bottle of organic almond extract caught my eye and I knew in a heartbeat that this would kick the proceedings up nicely. (I love almond extract; I put it in my iced coffee, smoothies, even on cereal.)

There's no exact formula here - mix to taste:


2 parts pear juice
1 part vodka
a few drops of almond extract

Shake together with ice, strain and pour.

Balsamic Vinegar Martini

If "vinegar" and "martini" aren't two words you associate together, start associatin', Jack.

This drink is a real treat for the senses, especially for those of us who already adore Vermouth and who already knew what most Americans still can't wrap their heads around: Vermouth is a perfectly good drink straight-up on its own, not just as a mixer to be doled out in drops and dashes.

Think of Frederic in Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms, who is consistently chugging Vermouth. Frederic, however, prefers the Italian variety while my own heart is with the French.

Here the Vermouth takes a back seat to the vodka but nevertheless has a presence far exceeding the comfort zone of Western bartenders. And as a compliment to the drink's core gimmick - Balsamic vinegar - the dark sweet Vermouth is parfait, vraiment.


Here's the rundown:

2 oz. Vodka
0.5 oz. Noilly Prat Sweet Vermouth
1 dash of Balsamic vinegar (real, barrel-aged Balsamic, not the fake common stuff)

Shake together the vodka and vermouth with ice. Pour strained. Add a small dash of Balsamic (a little goes a long way!)


A lot of bartenders recommend bringing fruit into the mix. Not I. The most I would dare introduce to this would be maybe, just maybe, a dash of orange juice. But personally, I think that just murks up an already murky drink past the point of systemic murk-icity. It also brings the drink a step closer to being something else entirely, namely a Satan's Whiskers, which is Gin or Vodka, Sweet Vermouth, orange juice, orange liqueur, and bitters.

Just be content to enjoy the subtle interplay between the Vermouth and the vinegar, staged against the backdrop of the almighty vodka.

Banana Clover Club

I was perusing the built-in recipes on my one of my cocktail shakers today and noticed a recipe for something called a "Clover Club". It says:


2/3 dry gin
1 egg white
1/3 lemon juice
grenadine
ice


Curious, I did some quick Googlery and found a Wikipedia entry about it that says:

The Clover Club Cocktail is a cocktail consisting of Gin, Lemon Juice, Raspberry Syrup (or Grenadine), and an Egg white. The Egg white is not added for the purpose of giving the drink flavor, but rather acts as an emulsifier. Thus when the drink is shaken a characteristic foamy head is formed.

The Clover Club Cocktail is a drink that pre-dates Prohibition, and is named for the Philadelphia mens club of the same name, which met in the Bellevue-Stratford hotel.[1] It has a long history dating back to at least 1911, and was enjoyed by the captains of industry who were members of the famous club. In its Heyday the drink was described by Jack Townsend as being enjoyed by the pre-prohibition gentleman who would have fit in with those of the club, and was a "Distinguished patron of the oak-paneled lounge." However, by the time that Townsend was writing about the drink it was becoming unpopular, and was eventually all but forgotten.

The drink seems to have been forgotten partly due to the use of raw egg in the cocktail, which many people shy away from, and partly due to the complexity of its preparation. Despite the use of what some may consider to be strange ingredients the cocktail is enjoyable, and has been described as tart with the added syrup giving the drink complexity, and the egg white providing body as well as a foamy head.

Wikipedia gives the recipe as:


1 1/2 Oz. Gin
3/4 Oz. Lemon Juice
1/4 Oz. Raspberry Syrup (or Grenadine)
1 Egg White

Dry shake ingredients to emulsify, add ice, shake and served straight up.


Eager to resurrect this "forgotten" drink, I consulted the kitchen and determined some adjustments would be necessary. I'm all out of gin, so I substituted vodka. No Grenadine or raspberry syrup in the house either, so I went for a more tropical motif using banana nectar. Since banana was now the theme of the drink, I decided to omit the lemon juice. And instead of fresh egg whites, I took the lazy way back to the ranch and used powdered egg whites.

The final verdict: it's weird. But I like weird.

The package of powdered egg whites says to use 2 teaspoons of the powder to equal 1 egg white, but I deliberately used more egg whites than called for, just to see what would happen. I used 2 heaping tablespoons, and when I say heaping, I mean heaping.

My version:


1 1/2 Oz. Vodka
2 tbsp Deb-El Egg Whites
2 tbsp water
1/4 oz. Looza banana nectar

Shake the egg whites and the water together, then add vodka, banana nectar, and ice. Shake again.



What I got was a much richer, frothier, firmer head on the mixture; one that resisted pouring out, which was handy - I filled the glass 3/4 full and then ladled out the foam to sit atop the liquid. It's almost meringue-like in its consistency, which probably isn't what the old boys at the Clover Club had in mind. In fact, this is so far off from the original recipe that I should probably just call it something else entirely. Any ideas?