Vowing to a period of sobriety isn’t a new concept — nor is it only reserved for the beginning of the year. But the concept of Dry January, as a global campaign, was introduced in 2013 by the independent organization Alcohol Change UK, which aims to reduce harm caused by alcohol consumption. Last year, 47 percent of individuals who drink alcohol at least once a month reported that they’ve participated in the initiative before, per a report from Oar Health. Millennials ages 29 to 44 were determined to be the highest demographic to attempt Dry January, with 51 percent of individuals saying they’ve tried it.

Alcohol consumption, as a whole, has been on the decline in recent years. According to Gallup’s annual Consumption Habits survey, conducted in July 2025, the percentage of U.S. adults who say they consume alcohol has gone down to 54%, which is the lowest statistic in nearly 90 years. This trend is especially prevalent amongst young adults, ages 18 to 34, who have been drinking less alcohol over the past two decades. A 2023 survey from Gallup found that the percentage of young adults who say they never drink has dropped 10 points over that same time period, from 72% in 2001-2003 to 62% in 2021-2023.

Perhaps a common misconception about non-alcoholic beverages, also known as mocktails, is that they are inherently boring, lacking the flavor complexities found in cocktails. Or, they are too juvenile, limited to sugary sodas, fruit juices and syrups. But that’s far from the truth. Salon Food recently spoke with Anthony Caporale, Director of Spirits Education at the Institute of Culinary Education, who shared his favorite ways to turn popular cocktails into elevated mocktails.

“If you want to master how to remove something from a drink, master how to use it first,” Caporale says. “You’ve got to understand cocktail chemistry before you can successfully remove the alcohol and make mocktails.”

Here are eight cocktails-turned-mocktails to enjoy this month:

The post 8 non-alcoholic cocktails, perfected appeared first on Salon.com.

What was once a drink associated with old-money restraint (and a hint of snobbery)  has become a rainbow of bright lychee, jewel-toned berries, neon passionfruit, and whatever shades of pink, orange, and green just scream to be taken a picture of.

Everywhere you look, there’s a fruity martini — the cocktail du jour that somehow feels retro, modern, ironic, sincere, and always photo-ready. One part 90s nostalgia, one part algorithmic aesthetics, one part cultural palate shift. The martini is having a renaissance, for sure. But the fruity martini? That’s a full-blown cultural moment.

The ‘90s are back with a vengeance. Low-rise jeans, frosty lip gloss, baguette bags, fur boots — the whole Y2K closet has been ripped open and dumped all over TikTok. Gen-Z has been single-handedly keeping the eBay reseller market alive. And now that drinks trends are starting to catch up to fashion, the Cosmo’s younger, more “phone-eats-first” cousins have followed.

Sabrina Carpenter, the 2025 Carrie Bradshaw of TikTok-era pop stardom, recently said that if she were a cocktail, she’d be a Pornstar Martini — the passionfruit-vanilla martini, typically served with a sidecar of prosecco. This might’ve just been a cheeky nod to Carpenter’s hyper-feminine, sexual and witty music style, but there is data backing up the Pornstar Martini’s rise. According to Yelp, searches for the Pornstar martini are up 47% and passionfruit martini is up 83%, compared to last year.

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It’s not quite Carrie’s iconic Cosmopolitan, but it fits. It’s fruitier, a little exotic, a little wilder. It reflects exactly where we are: a generation unafraid to play, nostalgic for an era we didn’t live through but desperately want to recreate.

And while some bartenders might argue that none of these drinks are actually martinis (and they’re not wrong), the truth is that fruity martinis sweeping back into mainstream drinking culture reveal the shifting priorities of modern drinkers: aesthetic appeal, algorithmic performance, nostalgia, and approachability.

The First Wave — and the revival

“The martini has gone through various phases over its long life,” veteran drinks journalist and cocktail expert Robert Simonson tells me. “There was a period in the 1990s and the early 2000s where anything you put in a martini glass was called a martini.”

This is the spiritual birthplace of the fruity martini — the era of the Appletini, Watermelon Martini, Chocolate Martini, basically any flavor or color you could imagine, bartenders were making a “martini” out of it.

“It was more about the concept of drinking a cocktail as opposed to adhering to some classical recipe of what a martini was,” Simonson says.

Purists were understandably horrified. “The purists, they get cranky about this, you know, and say that it’s supposed to be gin and vermouth and that’s all a martini should be.”

But it didn’t matter. Young people of that era wanted something youthful, colorful, sweet — something you’d want to hold on a dance floor under club lights.

“Young people back then, they didn’t want to drink like their parents. So if their parents were drinking a dry martini at home or at the club, they wanted to try something different. They wanted something more youthful,” Simonson says. “Most of these drinks were served in clubs and discotheques… they were brightly colored. If you’re at a discotheque, you don’t want a glass of brown liquor.”

The fruity martini wasn’t a mistake of the 90s. It was a feature.

Then came the mid-aughts cocktail renaissance — speakeasy revival, vest-wearing bartenders, the return of obscure bitters, the emergence of the cocktail-as-craft.

“In the mid-aughts the cocktail revival began,” Simonson explains, “and a lot of bartenders and bars and cocktail bars started bringing back classic cocktails, trying to make them accurately as they were made when they were invented in the pre-Prohibition days.”

Suddenly the Appletini was embarrassing. The Lychee Martini was gauche. The Chocolate Martini was a punchline whispered in dark bars lit by Edison bulbs. Bartenders reclaimed the martini, refused to make its sugary variants, and insisted on precision.

“They started making regular martinis and these new bars would refuse to make the fruity or sweet martinis… because they wanted to show Americans what cocktails were once and what they could be.”

But, like all things in cocktail culture, the pendulum swung back.

Fruity martini 2.0

“In the past few years, because the martini has become so popular with people of all ages,” Simonson says, “a lot of bartenders and bars felt compelled to yet again experiment… Ironically, this inevitably brought them back to the martinis of the 1990s.”

You could argue that the first viral example of this experimentation was the espresso martini, whose rise in popularity coincided with the expansion of the coffee liquor market. But bartenders didn’t stop there, they traded in those other fruity, sugary, fluorescent liqueurs for real ingredients.

“They knew how to make a martini that could taste like green apple but didn’t use some synthetic, chemical green apple pucker liqueur,” he says. “They would use real apple juice or clarified apple juice or they would use an eau de vie from Europe.”

Simonson said bars like Milady’s in New York have done a great job reintroducing their version of a craft Appletini made with fresh fruit and professional technique. Many lychee martinis are now made with real lychee — the nut, the syrup, clarified juice or even house-fermented fruit.

“We’re getting back to where we were [the ‘90s],” Simonson says, “but it’s not quite the bad old days because these are being made with quality ingredients… so they’re much closer to martinis than the cocktails of the ‘90s.”

This is Fruity Martini 2.0 — a renaissance built on nostalgia, but fortified with skill.

Simonson sees the resurgence as partly generational, partly emotional and partly aesthetic.

“When you got on the other side of COVID,” he says, “people stopped being so interested in the history behind the cocktail… They just wanted to have fun.”

And nothing says fun like a neon-pink drink that photographs beautifully.

“It’s the Cosmo effect,” he continues. “Anytime anyone sees a Cosmo, it’s so pretty, more people order Cosmos. People like eye-catching things. And also there’s social media… these drinks look very good on Instagram.”

In other words: the fruity martini is not just a drink — it’s an aesthetic object.

Bars know this. They must.

“Definitely it has affected the bar,” Simonson says. “If they want to stay in business, they have to design their cocktail list with a few eye-catching ones… There’s always a few on every list, you can always tell which cocktails were created for social media.”

We live in a time where dishes and drinks are engineered not simply to taste good, but to be photographed well — bright colors, dramatic garnishes, interesting silhouettes. It’s performative food, and the fruity martini sits right in the center.

Gen Z meets the martini

Of course, no conversation about fruity martinis is complete without addressing the generational elephant in the room: the idea that Gen-Z drinks less. You’ve probably seen the headlines — we’re sober-curious, we prefer THC-infused drinks, we’re health-conscious, we’re a “no/low alcohol” generation.

(As a Gen Z-er — please point me in the direction of all these sober twenty-somethings because I have yet to meet them.)

Still, the perception that younger Americans are stepping back from alcohol is everywhere and it influences the kinds of drinks that become popular. “The whole reason we have no ABV and low ABV cocktails is because of the younger generation,” Simonson says.

And fruity martinis fit perfectly into this cultural moment: drinks that feel like cocktails but don’t taste aggressively alcoholic. Alicia Kennedy, a food and culture writer, sees it the same way. “It’s something that gives you the feeling of a cocktail while being a little bit juicier,” she says. “It’s just about feeling.”

It’s the same logic behind the espresso martini: you can justify a three-cocktail lunch if you tell yourself you’re mostly drinking coffee or fruit, not the alcohol-mixed-with-alcohol feeling you get from a classic martini.

Are fruity martinis even martinis?

Kennedy admits she has to stop herself from being snobbish about the definition. She’s a martini drinker, but she recognizes that not everyone has the constitution for it.

“I just have to constantly remind myself to not be a snob about it,” she says. “Because everyone is using the word ‘martini’ to describe things that are basically like, I don’t know, tiki drinks.”

She’s right. A lychee martini isn’t a martini. A Pornstar isn’t a martini. Most fruity martinis are actually daiquiri variations in pointy glasses.

“It’s all about the glassware right?” Kennedy says. “It’s because they’re served in a pointy glass or a coupe that we’re calling them martinis.”

The name is branding. The glass is branding. These drinks function as martinis socially, even if they have nothing in common with gin and vermouth.

“Martinis are really strong. They’re very very boozy. They’re a drinkers drink,” says Kennedy, “So to bring fruity stuff [back], it’s also part of like, martinis came back, espresso martinis came back. There’s just this interest in reinvigorating people’s relationship to cocktails.”

For drinks writer Dave Infante, the return of sweet, photogenic drinks fits into a much older story about American drinking habits: we like sweet stuff. A lot.

In October, he wrote a piece for his newsletter “Fingers” all about what he calls the “infantilization” of the American drinker. His article more so explored products like cereal-flavored craft beers and dessert-inspired hard liquors, but he says the two concepts are related.

There is a connection between what he calls “off-premise stunt gimmicks” and the return of martini variations: sweeter flavors make people feel less like they’re drinking alcohol, even if it’s the same ABV as any other drink.

“I think the American palate for years leaned toward sweet… all the way back to Prohibition and its repeal,” he says. During that era, people were literally masking the taste of poor-quality alcohol with sugar. “It’s like freshmen in college cutting the cheapest vodka they can find with orange juice.”

This established a precedent in American drinking culture: sweetness is comforting, approachable, safer. Bitter, boozy drinks require conditioning.

“These cocktails can be situated on that spectrum,” Infante says. “It requires a fairly mature palate to enjoy a dry gin martini. That’s not to say that  many Americans don’t have mature palates, they certainly do. But what plays well here tends to be more fruity, more sweet, more straightforward.”

So, fruity martinis aren’t necessarily childish — they’re simply familiar. They align with long-standing American taste preferences, ones that are resurfacing in a moment of maximal nostalgia.

The (social) media machine behind the martini

If the 1990s brought fruity martinis into clubs, social media brought them to every bar in America — polished, staged and algorithmically optimized.

“Social media is the way cocktail bartenders especially think about building menus,” Infante says. Drinks must be delicious, yes. But they must also perform online. “There’s enormous pressure to develop drinks that are both good to drink but also play well on social media for promotional purposes.”

This isn’t just anecdotal. He hears it constantly in his reporting.

Bartenders now have to ask questions like: Will it photograph well? Does the garnish stand out on camera? Will the color pop in a TikTok pan shot? Can it go viral? Will people order it for the vibe rather than the flavor?

“That changes the R&D process,” he says. “Now there’s this added consideration of well, is it going to work for social and if not, is there really still a point to it.”

For many bars, the answer is no. If it won’t go viral, it won’t go on the menu.

Infante points out that this isn’t fully measurable — no one can directly link Instagram views to bar sales — but the cultural influence is undeniable. The espresso martini didn’t just come back; it became the summer soundtrack. The Negroni Sbagliato with Prosecco? That was practically a TikTok campaign.

Fruity martinis tap perfectly into this landscape: bright, recognizable, playful and ideal for filming.

That said, not everyone loves where this is going. Kennedy is blunt about her concerns.

“I do worry we’re in a moment where it’s just too performative for social media,” she says. “Nothing feels authentic about it.”

She sees bartenders less empowered to experiment or use technique and more focused on giving people what they expect to see online.

“It just started to be so much of the same everywhere,” she explains. “It’s a flattening.”

The fruity martini revival exists in this tension: bartenders want creative freedom, but the market wants reliable aesthetics.

She isn’t the only one who feels this shift. Many bartenders now learn only a bar’s house cocktails rather than classic techniques. The basics fall away. The aesthetic — the client-first approach — defines the drink more than the craft.

“We’ve lost the art of technique in most spaces,” Kennedy says. “Bartenders come in and they just learn what that bar does.” The result? “A very disappointing cycle of bad drinks.”

“They never went away”

Not everyone sees fruity martinis as a guilty pleasure.

Tiffanie Barrière, award-winning bartender and educator known as “The Drinking Coach,” says these drinks never disappeared — they were just out of the spotlight. “They never went away,” she says. “A martini glass that has color in it is just what you should see,” she says. To her, fruity martinis aren’t a dumbing-down of cocktail culture; they’re approachable, joyful, and visually irresistible. “We eat with our eyes,” Barrière notes. A brown drink on the rocks simply doesn’t hit the same in a culture built on shareability.

Social media criticism also doesn’t faze her. When someone photographs a drink she made, it’s pride, not pandering. “That’s my baby going across the bar on the tray. When someone takes a picture, it’s like a birth certificate,” she says.

Barrière also sees a generational shift: younger drinkers aren’t drinking less — they’re drinking differently. “This generation wants to taste something besides alcohol,” she says. Fruity martinis, she argues, represent the democratization of drinking: less gatekeeping, more flavor, more fun.

The trend isn’t superficial. It reflects a cultural convergence of nostalgia, social media and a palate increasingly oriented toward approachable, fruit-forward flavors. And in a post-COVID world, people aren’t looking to be quizzed on cocktail history; they want something light, bright, and uncomplicated. A fruity martini offers a liquid throwback, a little luxury, a signal of playfulness — and yes, a small Instagrammable escape.

Importantly, the revival isn’t regressive. Bartenders are elevating these drinks with high-quality ingredients, local fruits, and refined technique. Some orders may still be aesthetic-driven, and TikTok may flatten aspects of cocktail culture, but the fruity martini isn’t just back. It’s better. As palates evolve, its next chapter is just beginning.

The post The fruity martini’s colorful comeback appeared first on Salon.com.

While cocktails predated Prohibition, it was during this era that their purpose shifted. The decline in alcohol quality due to rampant bootlegging forced bartenders to mask the harsh flavors of bathtub gin and moonshine. From this period, innovation boomed, resulting in timeless classics like the Bee’s Knees, French 75 and Sidecar.

Though the United States’ experiment with Prohibition didn’t extend south of the border, its cultural impact reverberated there, influencing Mexico’s cocktail scene in ways that endure today. Nowhere is this more evident than at Rayo, a bar tucked inside a Porfirian-style mansion in Mexico City, where history and innovation collide in a singular drinking experience.

A hidden gem in Mexico City

If you don't know where you’re going, it’s easy to miss the narrow entry to Rayo. 

Look for a cast iron medallion of a bulldog on the building’s exterior to indicate you’re in the right place. It’s the first sign that Rayo has layers of depth and complexity that reveal themselves the closer you look.

“Our aim was to create a place where guests feel a genuine sense of Mexican hospitality and history through each drink,” says Victor Garibay, founder and owner of Rayo. “When guests leave, we hope they feel like they’ve connected with Mexico on a deeper level, not just through the flavors but through the stories and symbols that make up each part of Rayo.”

After checking in, patrons are guided to an antique elevator, where they’re served espresso shots for the short ride to the third floor. The doors open to the dimly lit floor where a neon sign in the shape of a lightning bolt illuminates the space. Once seated, guests are presented with a wooden box that includes 10 sample tinctures of their “Mexico Through the Senses” cocktail menu.

This tasting ritual encourages exploration before committing to a full-sized drink (with the disclaimer that some drinks will vary in taste due to prep). 

“The menu celebrates so many different regions, weaving together the country’s spirit-making traditions with modern, playful storytelling elements,” says Garibay. “Each cocktail, titled by number, has its own narrative, rooted in cultural history. The #1 Cocktail, for example, is inspired by carne en su jugo, a traditional beef stew from Northern Jalisco. It’s made with a lacto-ferment of the stew’s vegetables, beef-and-bacon-infused mezcal, and garnished with a beef tendon chicharrón."

Garibay also points to Cocktail #2, which pays homage to the cultural significance of corn. It features a false corn garnish made from leftover sweet corn scraps. Emulsified elote batter is molded to resemble corn on the cob.

Crafting connections through cocktails

The meticulous thought behind each drink extends beyond flavor. 

The bar amplifies the experience from the moment its name is spoken, with subtle, symbolic details woven throughout its design. Rayo draws its name from the Aztec myth of the goddess Mayahuel, who descended to Earth with her lover, Quetzalcoatl. Their forbidden union incurred the wrath of Mayahuel's grandmother, who destroyed the lovers after they transformed into an agave plant. In his grief, Quetzalcoatl planted Mayahuel's remains, from which a maguey plant grew. When lightning struck the plant, its sap began to flow, symbolizing her transformation into the source of spirits like mezcal, tequila and sotol. This lightning bolt, a symbol of life, is called rayo in Spanish and is subtly incorporated into both the menu and the venue’s design.

The box that holds the 10 tinctures serves as a showcase of Mexico’s regional craftsmanship. Made from barro negro — the black clay synonymous with Oaxacan artistry — it features designs representing four Mexican regions known for their spirit-making traditions: Oaxaca, Michoacán, Jalisco and Chihuahua. These regions are the origins of the spirits highlighted in the menu’s cocktails: mezcal from Oaxaca, charanda from Michoacán, tequila from Jalisco, and sotol from Chihuahua. Each side of the box pays homage not only to traditional craftsmanship, but also to the unique spirit that defines its respective region.

“These touches are our way of bringing those regions to life in a contemporary setting,” says Garibay. “We want Rayo to be a place where people can not only drink well but also gain a greater appreciation for the Mexican way of life and the depth of its culture.”

A nod to the past, with an eye on the future

One standout creation at Rayo is the Avery Milk Punch, a drink that Garibay says connects the bar’s location to its own storied past. 

“We found an old plaque on the building with a bulldog named ‘Avery’ and the phrase ‘Teeth Talk,’” recalls Garibay. “After digging into the building’s history, we found a connection to the Avery Company, a tractor manufacturer from Illinois in the 1800s. One of the building’s past owners had imported an Avery tractor and later turned this space into a horchatería, which we believe became a speakeasy during Prohibition.”

Prohibition in Mexico was not as widespread or long-lasting as its cousin up north, but it did require the same circumventing of laws in order to be able to serve alcohol within city limits. The Avery Milk Punch is designed to acknowledge this past. It uses Mexican moonshine with fig, green apple, lemon, milk and vanilla tea — ingredients that would’ve been common in the early 19th century. 

The drink, served in a tea cup, is garnished with Gorgonzola-stuffed olives (on the recommendation of a cheese expert with whom the bar partnered) for an umami finish. 

Garibay sees Rayo as part of a broader movement celebrating Mexican heritage in unexpected ways.

“The city has always had this magnetic energy, and now it’s being recognized as a global, cultural epicenter,” Garibay said. “What excites me most is that the city is evolving in a way that celebrates Mexico’s roots. Whether it’s through cuisine, art, or cocktails, we’re seeing the re-emergence of traditional techniques and ingredients used in unexpected and exciting ways. I’m proud that Rayo is part of this moment and contributing to a global appreciation for the depth and diversity of Mexican culture.”

Rayo may not be a speakeasy in the traditional sense, but its hidden entrance, historical references, and reverence for the past create a uniquely immersive experience — one that invites guests to savor not just the cocktails but the rich, layered stories behind them.

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Gold-hued orbs float from the ceiling against a dark interior, where jars of herbs line the backlit walls, casting a faint, warm, honey-toned glow. The bar, staffed exclusively by women who consider themselves witches, feels both mystical and inviting

As if the witchy vibes couldn’t get more, well, witchy at Brujas — the Spanish word for “witches” — the hot spot in the city’s Roma neighborhood has just debuted a new namesake bar menu for the year. “Witch’s Quest” isn’t just a carousel of 10 cocktails; it’s a whirlwind tour of little-known history. The menu, which took six months of research and development to complete, is based on various witches from across the Americas. Margaret Jones, the first woman executed for witchcraft in the Massachusetts Bay Colony during New England’s 200-year witch hunt, opens the menu, which comes with a 20-page graphic novel.

“Everyone has a quest in life,” reads an intro to the menu. “This is the story of 10 women of different origin and moments in history who set out on a journey that changed their lives—a journey that has also inspired 10 modern women, who through skills and knowledge, have been able to translate their experience into beverages you can now enjoy.”

The herbal led-bar pays homage to a history of indigenous ingredients and techniques to create more than cocktails. For the women behind the bar, they’re putting together tonics and elixirs with the power to heal, protect and nourish the human spirit. Located in the former home of Panchita, Mexico's famous witch and healer, the bar is housed in the lower level of a building dubbed “Casa de Brujas,” house of witches. Its structure even resembles a pointed hat and its top windows give the appearance of eyes watching over all who enter. 

Brujas bar interior (Photo courtesy of Brujas)The bar is managed by Daniela “Cherry” Leal who says each member of Brujas contributed to the menu. Witches from Venezuela, Ecuador and Mexico’s folktales are among the women represented. Their stories are told alongside the cocktail and mixologist they inspired. Leal’s contribution to the menu is a strawberry twist on the French 75 inspired by Marie Laveau, a voodoo herbalist and healer from New Orleans. Her rose-tinted beverage uses a gin base washed in strawberries and Greek yogurt, topped with Prosecco and sparkling water. 

“This cocktail bar is based on Mexican herbalism,” reads a description of Brujas. “Tribute is paid to all grandmothers, great-grandmothers, mothers and traditional healers who in times past could cure everything from a broken heart to clinical illnesses with the help of herbs, flowers, bark, etc.”

The Devil's Bride cocktail (Photo courtesy of Brujas)Using their platform as a storytelling vehicle isn’t new to Brujas. “Witches Quest,” replaces “The Women in Action,” bar menu used to highlight and celebrate women across the world who have shaped modern society. Among their offerings included “Woman of the Century,” a gin-based drink inspired by Simone Veil, a lawyer, politician and Holocaust survivor who spear-headed the law that decriminalized abortion in France;  “Amazona,” a tequila, yucca, honey soda, cinnamon and pepper drink based on Sonia Guajajara, activist and the first Minister of Indigenous Peoples in Brazil; and the “Vesper Dolores,” honoring Dolores Jiménez y Muro, a teacher, journalist and poet from the Mexican Revolutionary War. 

Explaining the popularity of the bar among locals and travelers, hotel executive Adriana Zermeno, a native to Mexico City, describes it as a “mystical hideaway where cocktails are inspired by magic and folklore and crafted with care by a talented team of women.” She calls it “the perfect spot for an unforgettable night in Mexico City.”

This witchy-themed menu is available now through 2025 with a bar warning that: “Once you take a sip, a spell is said to take over your mind, body and soul!” 

The post Brujas, Mexico City’s all-women bar of witches, isn’t just for spooky season appeared first on Salon.com.

Maja is my first cousin’s first cousin. In Baltimore, that means we’re close family. My dad's sister married her dad's brother, ultimately connecting us. A popular bartender, Maja created the most beautiful drinks anyone has ever seen or tasted in some of Baltimore’s fanciest restaurants.

“A MajTail,” I laughed, sipping the ginger-heavy citrus concoction she slid in my direction. “I’m in it for the long haul, cuz.”  

Fifteen years my junior, Maja, or Maj, has always been a dreamer. She has two big sleepy eyes that dominate her face and pair perfectly with her Zen-like demeanor. Many of the younger people in our family opted for traditional nine-to-fives or the streets, but she worked to make a name for herself in the art world, gaining an impeccable reputation for her drawings and paintings. The street guys and the nine-to-fivers have a lot to talk about with each other, but rarely share community with Maja’s artsy crowd. Our paths almost never collided until I joined the art world she knew so well, and began to see her at parties, and frequent places she worked, like The Charleston, Alma Cocina and Bloom's, where I would eat the most delicious food in the city and have the luxury of washing it down with her beautiful craft cocktail creations, with my wife and friends at my side. 

“You always have fun, even when y’all not drinking or before y'all’s drinks come out,” Maja said. “So just have fun — focus on that.” 

I love alcohol: the smell, the taste, the way it makes me feel. There’s something about sipping from a bottle or glass of warm confidence that just feels right. I’ve known this since I was a child — 10 years old, to be precise. 

One day, my cousin Lo begged me to go with him to see his estranged mother, who had recently won a long battle with addiction.

“I bought you something, baby,” she said, her veiny hands gripping a crumpled paper bag. “I didn’t forget you.” 

“The Colt 45 kind?” Lo guessed, his eyes watering as he snatched the bag. “Thank you, Mom!” 

Lo guzzled, then passed the can to me. I took a slow sip: like soda, but not as sweet, or even joyous at all, I thought. The aftertaste of Colt 45, a malt liquor that was as dangerous as it was popular, crumpled my face to match the bag that concealed the can. “Yuck!” 

The drink tasted so bad, but it felt so right. Imagine a cactus with milk so sweet, it’s worth the thorns. We laughed hysterically at my childish reaction, even though I was a child. I took another swig, shot another frown and passed the can back to Lo, who happily gulped. I knew my mom would have killed me if she found out, so I swore off liquor until it revisited me in 7th grade. 

Hawk rocked a monochromatic blue Coogi, so we wore monochromatic blue Coogis. Hawk never tied his New Balance; he purposely left the laces undone, so you’d never see a bow on our shoes either. Hawk sat drunk in the project stairwell, gripping a bottle of Absolut vodka, so when he passed it to me, I was all in. 

And I sipped, tripped and fell in love with that vodka. Booze and I became inseparable in the years that followed. It became a part of my identity: The fun guy with the drinks on deck. 

Alcohol is a depressant, scientifically speaking. But there seemed to be nothing depressing about grabbing a drink before the function, grabbing a drink at the function, and grabbing a drink after the function. There was always a reason to grab a drink with a friend. We would even grab a drink at the bar just to figure out where we should go on to grab drinks.

This lifestyle delivered so many glorious memories, nights and people I only remember in flashes. A life that I enjoyed and even bragged about, all the way up until my doctor delivered a reality check, recommending I eighty-six salty food — there goes fine dining — and go cold turkey off the booze for a while (goodbye, craft cocktails) so that we could regulate my rising blood pressure. 

Here’s what I learned during my first booze-free week after three decades of regular drinking: Liquor makes mediocre restaurant food taste like fine dining — the only ingredient better at enhancing flavors than salt. Ordering it also makes that dinner much more expensive. Everyone around me in the restaurant is also louder and sweatier, it seems, when I’m sober. And my sobriety makes other people uncomfortable, too. They poke at me, question my health, and ignore everything except what is — or isn’t — inside my glass.

* * *

“A yoooo, D Watk a weirdo! Man, oh man, aye aye, Watk lost his got dammed mind! What in the —” screamed a small woman with long braids growing out of the back of an oversized Oriole cap.  

A couple of months after the doctor told me to start eating cleaner and stop drinking for a while, an Uber dropped me off at this restaurant around 9:15, where I was greeted by thunderous applause. It kind of felt like a surprise party, except none of my close friends were there. These were casual business acquaintances, loose ties, strangers. I was being honored for my work with kids in schools. 

A young woman in a sparkly dress presented me with a framed certificate and a microphone. To my right, a DJ saluted from his booth. To my left, well-dressed educators and tastemakers eagerly awaited my words. In front of me, a packed restaurant of people ate and drank, some glancing over at me like, Who in the hell is this guy? 

I made my remarks and went over to the organizer’s table. Before I could sit, one of those tastemakers presented me with a long, luxurious brown box containing the premium tequila brand sponsor for the night’s event. 

Then four bottle girls arrived, placing four empty shot glasses in front of my face. One of the bottle girls had said, “For the man of the hour,” with a wink, filling each of the glasses in front of me with tequila until they all overflowed. The look and smell of the liquid made my head throb. 

“I have to run and wash my hands,” I told the table as they began knocking their drinks back. I cut through the crowd and entered the restroom. A walking and breathing mess stared back at me in the mirror. 

After making it through the first few weeks of my doctor-recommended sobriety, I decided to indulge a little on a family visit to Paris I had booked a few months before the physician gave me the sad news. I stuck to my guns, not touching a drop until our feet were planted on European land, and I had decided to continue my alcohol-free mission when we returned to the States. I had felt great about my choices until I was presented with that tall bottle of tequila and poured those four shots that seemed to be screaming my name. I can beat this too, I told myself. 

I splashed water on my face and exited the restroom. The educators were in full turn-up mode, iPhone filming and dancing. My shots waited patiently for me. 

I wondered what Maj would do. Maybe I should order a MajTail, I thought.

If I walked a big mocktail over to my table, I reasoned, people wouldn’t be paying attention to the fact that I was not downing those shots. 

“I’m working, on the clock, not really drinking,” I said to the bartender, a slim dude with a thinning fro. “Can you make me a mocktail?” 

“Sure, brother,” the bartender answered. “Any particular taste in mind?” 

Enter the walking Oriole cap. 

“A yoooo D Watk a weirdo! Man, oh man, Watk lost his got dammed mind! What in the—” screamed that small woman with the long braids growing out of the back of her oversized Oriole hat.

Every patron in the joint laid eyes on us at the same time, it seemed. To my surprise, others jumped in to defend me, saying things like, “Everybody can’t be an alcoholic like you, girl,” and “Don’t play with D like that!” 

Eventually, I made it back to my table, where I was greeted by another person who recently started his own wine company and wanted me to taste every flavor. Well, it’s wine, I thought, and I’m kind of sophisticated, I thought, and I just came back from Paris, I thought, so passing on this offer would be a great disservice to that young entrepreneur and the community, is what I landed on. 

I drank glass after glass, holding the bottle — bottles — making sure the women in the large cap saw me consuming enough wine to collapse an elephant. Who’s the weirdo now? 

Me, apparently, because alcohol won the battle that night. Even though I didn't take the tequila shots, I was still as drunk as a trust fund frat boy by the time I left. 

The more I reflected on that evening, the more I became bothered by things I failed to recognize or wish I would have considered in the moment. 

I don't owe these people anything, so why should their opinions force me into becoming wine-drunk? Do I lack self-control? 

I have never had the level of clarity I gained in the short sober time I had before Paris. So why would I quickly throw that away to please a bunch of strangers at a function? 

I have no idea who that little woman lost in that big-ass baseball cap was, so why would I care about her insults?

Was I drinking for me or because Maj had been found dead in her apartment a week before I left for Paris? 

And I realized that I would never be able to ask her what would she do again. I will never be able to roll into a bar and see her face, be eased by her pleasant energy and taste one of her creations ever again. Was alcohol not the fun juice I always thought it was? Thinking about Maj, it was starting to feel every bit like a depressant. 

* * *

Alcohol is one of the leading preventable causes of death in the U.S., according to the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism. More than 140,000 deaths each year are estimated to be attributed to excessive drinking. It remains an urgent, life-or-death problem for many. Perhaps a growing awareness of that is why more people are being proactive about monitoring their consumption, even before it becomes a medical necessity or a chemical dependency. 

An explosion of new non-alcoholic adult drink brands shows there’s a market that still wants the feeling of going for a drink without the effects. Some people are avoiding alcohol, or just cutting back, to be more health conscious. Gen Z is drinking less than millennials and Gen Xers. And it feels much more common now — thanks in part to events like Dry January and Sober October — to take temporary breaks from drinking without the stigma attached to “falling off the wagon.” For some, mindful moderation — rather than an all-or-nothing approach — is now part of an aspirational lifestyle. 

For deeper insights into the source of my feelings about drinking and abstaining from a person who has taken the sober journey from inside — or rather, behind — the bar, I reached out to the first mixologist I ever met, Andre “Dre” Barnhill. Dre has been a star on the emerging cocktail scene in Baltimore over the past decade. He's held prominent positions at award-winning establishments like Woodberry Kitchen, and runs Clavel, one of the hottest Mezcal bars in our region. Dre was sober for two years, but recently decided to have an occasional cocktail. 

Dre is a relatively smooth fellow, always laid-back, never too visibly excited. He’s also the bartender who introduced me to what became my signature cocktail, the vodka gimlet. 

"A yo, I am traveling a little bit right now for these readings," I asked Dre one slow night at his bar. "And I'm struggling to find one go-to drink that any bartender can make, even me." 

"I noticed that you are a citrus guy,” Dre said. “So, a gimlet." 

Gin hasn’t been kind to me over the years. But Dre helped me fall in love with the smooth, clean taste of vodka gimlets. And during that time, Dre fell out of love with alcohol and the way it made him feel, so he decided to go on a hiatus. 

I reminded Dre that I did not remember him being the heaviest drinker before he took his pause––maybe a shot or two during a shift. But then I realized that he would normally be at work when I saw him, and I was coming into his bars with my own agenda, to ingurgitate as much booze and fried food as humanly possible. 

“You have to consider the lifestyle, especially 1:30 to 4 a.m.,” Dre explained. “Shutting the bar down and drinking over a period of time, it adds up.” 

I thought of how it would feel to work in a bar five days a week, and how that environment could easily transform a casual drinker into a person who consumes alcohol every day as part of their routine. 

“And then there's the social aspect that comes with being a bartender in the city,” Dre continued. “Bartenders, we love each other, so when we go out, we are always sending each other shots. And you have to take them because turning a gift down is rude.” 

Here’s an insidious thing about alcohol and stigma: It’s wrapped up in class issues. 

I imagined Dre bar hopping with his high-end craft cocktail crew: A diverse, stylish bunch wearing wool coats, high-quality loafers and cropped denims. I imagined Hawk mixing in with his bottle of vodka blue Coogi sweater, instantly changing the mood. When experimenting with vodka cocktails with Dre and his friends, I’m progressive, approachable; a good brother, not an addict. But if I were drinking the same vodka in the projects with Hawk, I’m a gangster or a bum — the world would see me as an addict. The stigma. 

The stigma around drinking is something that bartender Ashley Mac has learned to deal with on many levels. 

“I do not like the word mocktail. To mock is to make fun of, or to do a dry run, of something,” Ashley Mac, the vice president of the Baltimore Bartenders Guild known as AMAC in the hospitality world, told me. “My sobriety is not a dry run or a joke to me. It's like a personal thing. I wouldn't use the word mocktail––spirit-free, zero-proof or nonalcoholic cocktails is what I tend to lean towards.” 

AMAC — who also goes by “The Sober Tender” — is also program director for HEARD, a mental health-focused nonprofit for people in the hospitality industry. She has been sober for seven years and counting. But she didn’t leave bartending — a job she wanted since childhood — when she stopped drinking.

“I always wanted to be a bartender, ever since my parents took me to a Ruby Tuesday's back when I was a child,” AMAC said with a laugh. “The bartender ran the show, was the life of the party. And I wanted that so bad.”

AMAC got her first restaurant job at 15 and flourished professionally in the bar industry. But participating in the drinking culture that can come with working in bars took a heavy toll. She describes herself as “a late-stage alcoholic” by age 29. She even died once during withdrawal.

“I was out for 30 seconds. The next thing I remember was waking up in the back of an ambulance, and then ICU for eight days,” she said. “It was 13 days before I was discharged and off to rehab for three and a half months. I was 89 pounds when this all happened.”

AMAC returned home with major medical debt from the hospital and rehab. She had only been employed in the restaurant industry and didn’t know what she was going to do for money. So AMAC went back to bartending. 

Liquor is not my business. But so much of my business as a writer revolves around it — I call it let’s go grab a drink culture. I met my managers over a drink. Some of my first agents signed me after a drink or 10. I’ve done shots with lawyers and television executives. What would my career look like without it? Would I have been thought of a certain way if I had refused those drinks, or insisted we meet up for tea or sodas instead? 

I told AMAC about the time I tried to secretly order a mocktail at that tequila-sponsored educators’ award event. 

“That’s horrible,” she said. “I do some contract work for a bourbon company, and I don't tell people I'm sober when I'm trying to sell them bourbon.”  

“I have oftentimes been told as a bartender, I don't want you to make my drink if you're sober,” she continued. “How do you know what it tastes like? Or, I don't trust you as a bartender because you're sober.” 

Despite some of the negative experiences that both AMAC and I have had during different parts of our journey — mainly my attempt to remain sober in drunken places –– we have also both seen bar culture begin to change to incorporate sober people intentionally. 

Menus featuring specialty spirit-free, zero-proof — or the bar-industry dreaded phrase “mocktails” — are becoming more available in restaurants. Designated dry months are social trends that aren’t going away. And new nonalcoholic spirits, beer and wine companies seem to appear every day. Some are even establishing brick-and-mortar locations where tastings, events, and fellowshipping around alcohol-free living can flourish. 

The Zero Proof, a spirit-free adult beverage company, recently released the results of a survey that boldly declared the movement here to stay: “Two-thirds of American adults consciously intended to drink less alcohol in 2022, primarily fueled by health and budget concerns. This mindset, held by 64% of younger consumers (ages 21-30) and 50% of all adults who drink alcohol, will continue into 2023.” 

The survey also found that “nearly 7 in 10 of all respondents (alcohol drinkers and non-drinkers) say they wish social settings were more conducive to accommodating those who drink alcohol and those who do not. The most uncomfortable for non-drinkers are bars and house parties.” An $11 billion industry of no/low-alcohol drink brands has sprung up in response to serve that growing market. There’s even a store in Baltimore dedicated to them — Hopscotch Zero Proof Bottle Shop —  just a mile away from the restaurant where I was ridiculed for ordering a spirit-free drink. 

The explosion of nonalcoholic spirits shows the scene is changing. People want to enjoy a zero-proof cocktail — whether always, or just on occasion — with their friends, without standing out as an abstainer. After all, there are stigmas attached to sobriety, too, stemming from its associations with both addiction and moral judgment. 

“When I got sober, it was not something people were comfortable talking about,” Sarah Hepola told me. 

Hepola has been sober for 13 years, and vividly captured that journey in her critically lauded memoir, "Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget.” Hepola’s also a former culture editor for Salon, and the one responsible for planting the seed that grew into my writing career here. Can you guess what my first essay was about? Drinking. 

The first sentence reads, “Miss Sheryl, Dontay, Bucket-Head and I compiled our loose change for a fifth of vodka. I'm the only driver, so I went to get it.”  

“There’s pressure, and I kind of went into hiding for the first year of my sobriety,” Hepola continued. “I didn't go out, because I didn't want those questions.” 

Those questions.  

Those questions made staying sober more difficult than my urge to drink did. I did not miss hangovers, and I was experiencing that nonalcoholic clarity that sober people brag about. I felt great overall — until the questions came:

“Are you dying? If so, how soon, and can have your sneakers?” 

“Do you have some kind STD? And you’re not drinking because you don’t want to throw off the antibiotic?”

“Why come to a bar and not drink? That’s like getting on a boat and not boating, right?” 

“Have a drink! Real men don’t care about no damn blood pressure until they collapse! Did you even almost collapse yet? Collapse first, then talk to me about drinking!”  

I had a great sober run after my altercation at the educator ceremony, but about a month later, it ended. It wasn’t a dark, depressing fall-off, but I did abandon sobriety. Partially because of the questions and partially because of identity — it’s still difficult for me to imagine myself as a completely alcohol-free guy. There are too many memories, celebrations and bonds forged between me and my costar booze. I can’t remember signing a deal or accomplishing a goal or grieving a loved one without it. And my doctor never said I had to stop entirely — just cut back. 

“A person's sobriety is as unique as their fingerprint,” AMAC told me. 

So maybe my version can be sipping just enough to participate without fully indulging. 

I haven’t had a taste of hard liquor since that diagnosis. I now classify as a slight social wine drinker, the guy who circles the function with one glass. But I would be lying if I acted as if I didn’t feel like I was missing out on the fun that the drunken, sweaty people are having in my sober presence. 

Drinkers and non-drinkers are going to continue to find themselves in the same spaces, though, whether for professional reasons or a refusal to stop socializing even without booze. After all, addiction isn't the only reason people have to abstain from alcohol. Not everyone quits for extreme reasons. 

“A number of my friends quit drinking,” Hepola said. “The older you get, the more it really wears on your system. I have very few friends left who are really hardcore drinkers.… They just mellowed out.” 

* * *

Having these conversations about alcohol and sobriety,  I realized that most of the people I talked to were people closer to my own age — Gen Xers and Millennials. People who, like me, came of age during a time when grabbing a drink after work felt necessary, having a cold beer during the football game felt necessary — the kind of people who looked at prayer and alcohol as the primary ways to dissolve stress. I wanted to know how the students in my writing class at the University of Baltimore — mostly Gen Z, between the ages of 18 and 21 — related to alcohol. 

“Do you guys get sloppy drunk?” I asked a small group who came to class early, when some of our best, loosest conversations happened. 

“Yuck,” a young man named Josh said. “If being drunk could get me out of a final. Wait, are you giving a final?” 

Most of the group had no real interest in drinking. They didn't consider themselves to be sober, or feel like they were part of a movement. Drinking just didn't really seem to interest them. 

“I loved to guzzle Absolut vodka back when I was your age,” I said, as proudly as if I were a liquor company rep. “We partied at the club till 2 a.m., and then we hit the after-hours that rocked til 4, and then the after-after party at my crib that went until 6 or until everybody passed out!” 

“You should be lucky you are alive,” my student Nesha said. “That whole night sounds ridiculous. How did you have any fun?” 

“I can't remember, Nesha. I was drunk!” 

My students aren’t outliers, according to AMAC, who sees similar trends in the liquor industry and around the bars she frequents from time to time. 

“There's a younger generation coming up right now that does not drink. They don't want to drink.” AMAC said. “They know the hangover comes with it. They see the stigma.” 

More young adults are abstaining from alcohol compared to college-age Americans 20 years ago, Science Daily reports. “Between 2002 and 2018, the number of adults aged 18-22 in the U.S. who abstained from alcohol increased from 20% to 28% for those in college and from about 24% to 30% for those not in school, say researchers at the University of Michigan and Texas State University.”

I was born on the cusp between Gen X and Millennials. I remember everyone drinking all of the time. There’s definitely been a shift. Hepola’s seen it, too. 

“If you're coming up underneath that, you're probably going to rebel against what your older siblings do, because it’s not cool,” she said. 

* * *

Nonalcoholic cocktails may be easier to find in liquor stores, restaurants and bars now, and young people may not be drinking as much. But let’s go grab a drink culture hasn’t retired. Maybe the conversation we should be having should be about more than navigating the world safely in sobriety — going out to a bar or a nightclub should be a safe experience for anyone, no matter what or how much they’re drinking. 

Safe Bars was founded in Washington, D.C., in 2013 by gender-based violence prevention expert Lauren Taylor. When I spoke with their executive director Amie Ward for this story, Ward — who also founded the peer-to-peer support and resource group The Healthy Tender, for sober or sober-curious folks in her industry — told me that the organization’s mission started with a focus on self-defense and bystander intervention, “because of the high link of alcohol within sexual assaults that are reported. One in two sexual assaults involve alcohol.” 

Ward’s degrees in kinesiology and cultural studies inform her insights into how power and bodies intersect in drinking spaces — an underrated skill in the hospitality world. When a patron walks into a bar, they are heading for a destination, wanting to be transported from whatever they are feeling to a place of ease. Safe Bars’ training positions bartenders as the trip’s pilot, capable of ensuring a safe trip for everyone. Ward’s first safety rule is simple: “Don't automatically give people shots.” 

“Number two: If somebody says no, that's the end of the f**king question,” Ward continued. “That’s the answer. ‘No’ is a complete sentence. Don’t ask them why — it's not your story to know!” 

I thought about my experience at the ceremony, wondering if my night would have gone differently if the bartender had stepped in. I also thought about how many people in the service industry live off tips, and wondered if it's even ethical for me to expect them to control all of the crazy conversations and interactions that happen at their bars. There are too many resources available for patrons to learn how to conduct themselves respectably. 

I landed on the idea that the answer lies in the collective; it is up to everyone — patrons, bartenders, servers, the sober and the drunk alike — to work together to create a reality where everybody is comfortable and happy. We all deserve that, sober or not. Maja taught me that.

I didn’t give Maja all the flowers she deserved when I had the opportunity. My inability to fully appreciate those times while she was here tied into the feelings that many of us — including some of the former drinkers I talked to — chased at some point in our lives: The yearning to hold onto memories, places and people that we want to see, talk to or touch again. And this is where it becomes bigger than booze — and potentially more dangerous — because there is no way to really recreate those wild nights while sober. They never would have happened the same way without the drinks.

Maja and I had so many “I was messed up last night!” conversions that I truly miss; however, I realized that I miss the art, food and life conversations we shared just as much if not more. I may not have been able to reach this understanding if she was still here, or if I had kept my drinking habit. 

The space I gained from the huge alcohol reduction from my diet has allowed me to focus on the good, the bad and the things that matter. To understand that those wild nights are gone, but better nights are coming. To appreciate what I have, and be present. To focus on the fun, just like Maja said. 

She was right the whole time. 

The post Navigating the new sober boom, where “a person’s sobriety is as unique as their fingerprint” appeared first on Salon.com.

Truthfully, I didn’t know all that much about bitters; I knew that most drinks only called for two to three shakes of the minuscule bottle and I didn’t feel like shelling out the money for what amounts to such an infinitesimal amount of liquid. However, that interaction led me down a rabbit hole to learn about all the amazingly underutilized uses for bitters, which tend to be confined to cocktails and, more recently, non-alcoholic drinks.

So, if you’re not totally sure what bitters are or how to use them and figured that they were simply an ingredient for cocktails:  1) you are not alone 2) you are quite mistaken. 

“Think of bitters like salt and pepper for a cocktail,” Kate Dingwall writes in Wine Enthusiast. ” A sprinkle seasoning the balance out the flavors of the dish.” Comprised of a mix of alcohol, botanicals, herbs and spices, bitters truly embody the term “just a dab will do ‘ya.” You don’t need to much at all to totally shift the flavor profile of a drink.

Interestingly enough, the history of bitters is actually more health-based, when they were as a balm for gastrointestinal issues — hence the “digestive” moniker in the title digestive bitters. They’re also often called “aromatic” bitters, too. Of course, bitters soon outgrew their medicinal origins. While some may still use them as digestive aids, that is far from their primary purpose in this day and age.

Nino Padova writes in Liquor.com that “technically, a cocktail is not a cocktail unless it contains bitters . . . a 1803 periodical [notes that a cocktail] must comprise four ingredients: spirits, sugar, water and bitters.” 

Bitters come in a spectrum of flavors, from orange and cherry to chocolate and walnut. Of course, different bitters pair well with different liquors and flavors. Some bitters may add a refreshing, lighter note, while others may add a deeper, darker nuance to the drink. 

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So, if you’re not a drinker, but you’re intrigued, take some of my colleague’s advice: Add a spritz of bitters to an iced tea, a hot tea, a latte, a hot chocolate, perhaps even some lemonade — go wild! As Salon Food has recommended before, they also go great in your everyday morning coffee. 

You’ll be amazed at the different shades and tapestries your beverages take on with just a tiny little addition of bitters.

Heck, why not even use it in your cooking? As Sheela Prakash writes in The Kitchn, you can use them to gussy up baked goods, add a dash or two to a poaching or macerating liquid for fruit or even incorporate some into a super-special maple syrup infusion for pancakes, waffles and French toast. The options really are endless. 

Or, of course, keep it simple and classic and add a bit to an Old Fashioned; conversely, try a Sazerac, Manhattan or Planter’s Punch without any bitters and you’ll soon realize precisely what bitters add — that certain je ne sais quoi is really a nonnegotiable. 

The post Bitters belong in so much more than just cocktails appeared first on Salon.com.

It’s a transatlantic cliche that we Americans are obsessed with our ice, while Europeans proudly prefer their beverages decidedly cube-free. In my own life, I have always held a striclty “when in Rome” attitude about the presence of frozen water in my glass — that is, until Rome hit 107.24 degrees Fahrenheit. When I arrived my Swiss aparthotel in August, I was greeted with a wide screen television, a hair dryer, a Nespresso machine — and not a single ice cube tray. I had to go to three different stores before I found one. And in my seminar rooms these past few weeks, my classmates and I hydrated all day long from large carafes filled directly from the tap, with nary a cube in sight. At times, I found myself fantasizing about nothing else in the world but the satisfying clunk of a torrent of ice from a self-serve soda fountain.

To understand the cultural divide, it helps to recognize why our love of ice is so persistent and deep. “The American obsession with ice is relatively to completely unique on the global stage,” explains Amy Brady, author of “Ice: From Mixed Drinks to Skating Rinks – A Cool History of a Hot Commodity.” It goes back so far, it’s practically embedded in our identity. “About 200 years ago in 1806, a wealthy Bostonian named Frederick Tudor landed on this idea that he wanted to sell ice out of his family estate to people living in warm climates around the world,” she explains. 

His dream took years to catch on, but Tudor eventually succeeded by showing his potential clients how delicious icy things could be — “Icy cocktails on the rocks, even ice water,” Brady says. And as demand increased, so did Tudor’s price. “In the new American ice trade, ice was marketed as a luxury item. Something to aspire to own. Even people who were not super wealthy were like, ‘I want to have a nice cold drink. I want to have an ice box,'” she explains. “By the time we get to the 1950’s, to own an electric refrigerator in which you can store ice was on par with owning a television set or a car. It was a sign that one had arrived at the American middle class.” Decades later, on some primal level, we still associate ice with abundance. But elsewhere, as Brady explains, “When you look at the rest of the world, there are very few, if any, other nation-states whose ideology is rooted in this idea of pulling oneself up by the bootstraps and this upward class mobility.” 

I have absolutely, on an unconscious level, felt that pull. For entire years of my early adulthood, my refrigerator frequently contained nothing but ice. I may not have had any actual food, but I would not have been caught dead without a few well filled trays. And I’m hardly alone in coasting for a much too long time on the messy flex that ice was the only thing I knew how to make. 

But ice is not just easy and aspirational. It’s also, for many of us, a sound, a texture, a ritual, a pleasant addition to a drink when used correctly. “I love ice, I have strong feelings on ice,” says Allison Kave, an American and the co-owner of the Parisian cocktail bar Abricot. “I do believe — and there’s plenty of research to back it up — that certain drinks benefit from certain kinds of ice. There’s the right ice for the right drink.” But she adds, “Differences are reflected in a few ways. The French feeling about air conditioning and the French feeling about ice are one and the same. You will meet lots of people who say, ‘Oh, God, I can never sleep with air conditioning. It makes me sick.’ Similarly, there’s an aversion to that extreme cold being on your body — or in your body — that really is cultural here.”

She has however been noticing a shift. Now, “people are more aware of cocktails here,” she says. “They’re more interested in exploring them; it’s not just about wine any more. And a big part of serving a cocktail well and right has to do with what kind of ice you’re using and how much.”

Food historian Sarah Wassberg Johnson offers a few other ideas about why Europeans are less ice-friendly than we Americans. “There are a number of theories,” she says, “all of which have a grain of truth to them. One is that Europeans don’t generally like to buck tradition, especially when it comes to food, and many of their food traditions predate the commercial ice trade by centuries.” She adds, “Another is that they view ice as diluting the beverage or taking up too much valuable glass space. Some also claim icy cold drinks hamper digestion. But I think the most likely answer — besides the fact that Europe historically has been cooler than the US, temperature-wise — is that very cold drinks change the flavor of the beverage.”

I’ll confess that here is where I was ready to protest that I am pretty unconcerned about changing the flavor of my water, but Wassberg Johnson makes a very persuasive counterpoint. “Especially when you’re dealing with a continent that prides itself on its variety of historically bottled waters — a holdover from 18^th century spa days,” she says, “even water is expected to have a flavor. In the United States, that is not the case. We don’t necessarily like our water to taste like anything. In fact, water that has a taste is often considered bad (see: iron-rich well water).” And if you’ve ever had a nasty ice cube ruin your drink, you can understand the concern.

Wassberg Johnson says she doesn’t believe Europe will embrace ice en masse any time soon “I’m skeptical,” she says. “I don’t see iced drinks gracing many tables any time soon, although the demand for refrigerated water may go up with the temperature.”

And with the planet getting hotter, we’d probably be better off following our European neighbors’ example instead of wondering when they’ll follow ours. All this ice is heating us up. “The Catch-22 here is that right now the technologies that we have to produce ice are in turn taking a toll on the planet, explains Amy Brady. “The average refrigerator, at least here in the United States, is the largest energy draw in any average American household. And collectively, the cooling industry contributes about 10% of all global carbon emissions, which is not insignificant.”

But Allison Kave wonders if that ship has already sailed. “We don’t have summers any more without a canicule,” she says. “That is just part of life here now, a trend that’s a very big change from 10, 15, 20 years ago. I think suddenly, people are like, ‘Okay, you know, whatever feelings I had about really cold drinks or an air conditioned apartment are changing,'” she observes. “Because it’s not as easy to contend with what Mother Nature is serving up to us any more.”

.

The post Will record heat make Europeans finally embrace the ice cube? appeared first on Salon.com.

Sometimes, people will snicker at that, as if cheese in and of itself isn’t substantial or legitimate enough to constitute as a favorite food, but they are mistaken. No matter if enjoying a sharp cheddar or goat, a buttery Manchego, a pungent bleu or an unctuous Gruyere, I’m in my glory when I’m eating cheese, incorporating it into recipes of all shapes and sizes or just mindlessly munching on craggly, irregular chunks. 

To put it simply, it’s a perfect ingredient, whether it’s lightly dusting the top of a warming soup, encasing a chicken cutlet or being devoured with roasted peppers, arugula and a heaping amount of balsamic vinegar.

What often stands out for me — both in price, as well as flavor and texture — is the crumbly, cherished Parmigiano Reggiano (which, no, isn’t the same as Parmesan and please don’t pronounce it parm-eh-sahn). As reported in 2021, “When discussing Parmigiano-Reggiano, we also must note “parmesan,” which is actually quite different. While also totally delicious, it’s not as regulated, prestigious or expensive as Parmigiano-Reggiano.”

Parmesan Reggiano cheese on cutting board (Getty Images/MEDITERRANEAN)

Something I’ve always been fascinated by, though, is the use of cheese in desserts, drinks and other “unusual” applications. In order to further explore this realm, I spoke with Chef Michele Casadei Massari, US Brand Ambassador for Parmigano Reggiano, who may be the foremost resource for unique, specialty applications for Parmigiano. He walked me through his adoration for the flavor profile, his desire to produce interesting recipes for Parmigiano usage, how to properly honor the special ingredient and what he’s dreaming up next. 

The following interview has been lightly edited for clarity and length.

Cheese is probably my absolute favorite food and Parmigiano Reggiano might be my favorite iteration, so I’m very excited about this discussion! Cheesecake with Parmigiano Reggiano is such an amazing idea. How did you conceive of that dessert?

I am endlessly inspired by Parmigiano Reggiano and am always seeking unexpected ways to showcase it through my cooking: I wanted to explore Parmigiano Reggiano’s savory and nutty profile in a dessert. To make this recipe, I combine a traditional cheesecake base with different ages of grated Parmigiano Reggiano — the cheese adds a unique depth of flavor and a rich, creamy texture to the dessert.

Parmigiano Reggiano Cheese (Getty Images/Buena Vista Images)

Generally, the notion of cheese is so completely savory, sans mascarpone, ricotta and cream cheese. How does incorporating Parmigiano Reggiano into a cheesecake base subvert that? 

Incorporating Parmigiano Reggiano into a cheesecake brings a delightful twist to the conventional sweet cheesecake. Parmigiano Reggiano’s nuttiness and umami flavors effortlessly balance sweet and savory, resulting in a unique and intriguing flavor experience; it adds a rich complexity and depth to the dessert. 

The idea of Parmigiano Reggiano in desserts and beverages is an odd one; it’s exciting to me, but I’m sure for others, it might seem unappetizing. What led you to explore the realm of using parm. in unconventional ways? 

The exploration of using Parmigiano Reggiano in unconventional ways stems from my passion for pushing culinary boundaries. I constantly seek to create unexpected and exciting experiences for myself and my guests. While it may seem unconventional to some, experimenting with Parmigiano Reggiano in desserts and beverages allows me to spotlight the versatility of this incredible cheese and challenge preconceived notions about its usage.

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One of my favorite things about Parmigiano Reggiano is the craggly, salty, crunchy bits; when making a smooth puree, does that lacking textural aspect affect the overall product? Or is the flavor so concentrated and robust that that’s not even noticed? 

When creating a smooth puree with Parmigiano Reggiano, the textural aspect certainly differs from the craggy, crunchy bits we associate with the cheese. However, the concentrated, robust flavor of the puree compensates for the lack of texture. The puree can be used as a base or sauce, adding a rich and intense Parmigiano Reggiano flavor while allowing other ingredients to provide textural elements.

Parmigiano Reggiano Espresso Martini (Photo by Noah Fecks)

When I first heard of the idea of Parmigiano Reggiano espresso martinis, I was amazed. I love the combination! How is Parmigiano Reggiano added to that drink to ensure a smooth, rich cocktail?  

Parmigiano Reggiano Espresso Martinis are a spectacular marriage indeed! Parmigiano Reggiano is infused into the vodka and added as a garnish, giving rise to a smooth and rich cocktail. The cheese imparts its distinct flavor into the cocktail, enhancing the overall taste experience and elevating the coffee and caffeine tango. Straining the cocktail after infusing and then garnishing ensures a smooth texture, allowing the flavors to shine.

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In culinary school, we made a parm stock and it was one of the best smelling and tasting things I’ve ever had. I’ve also had super-smooth parm espumas on restaurant dishes that were amazing. Beyond the martini and cheesecake, what are some of your favorite ways to work with Parmigiano Reggiano beyond the customary?

Beyond the customary uses of Parmigiano Reggiano, there are many exciting ways to work with this unique cheese. Some of my favorites include creating Parmigiano Reggiano crisps, incorporating it into savory bread or pastry dough; making Parmigiano Reggiano-infused oils or vinaigrettes; and even using it as a crust or topping for roasted vegetables.

Additionally, you can take the Parmigiano Reggiano experience to a new level by simmering the rind in a curry. The rind will soften during cooking, releasing its rich, nutty flavors. The possibilities are endless and I’m always thrilled to discover new ways to showcase the versatility of Parmigiano Reggiano and engage with other cuisines.

Chef Michele Casadei Massari’s Clam Chowder with Parmigiano Reggiano (Photo courtesy of Riccardo Pizza)From a savory perspective, I love your takes on clam chowder and chapati! Adding Parmigiano Reggiano rinds to chowder broth sounds amazing. What other ideas do you have for using parm? What else might we see from you in the future?

Parmigiano Reggiano offers infinite possibilities. In addition to the chowder and chapati ideas, you can use Parmigiano Reggiano rinds in broths, stocks, dashi, ramen or soba to enhance their flavors. You could also use grated Parmigiano Reggiano as a finishing touch on grilled meats or vegetables, incorporating it into risotto or a frittata or even create Parmigiano Reggiano-infused butter, cream sauces, hummus, tahini or even add it to labneh cheese!

As for the future, I’m always driven to create innovative dishes that highlight exceptional ingredients and Parmigiano Reggiano will continue to inspire my culinary explorations. I am particularly intrigued by Parmigiano Reggiano’s potential in the cocktail world — I currently have gin on my mind. I’ll keep you posted, I promise! 

I love the tahini and labneh ideas! Do you consider yourself a drinks and desserts specialist? Or did the cheesecake and martini recipes strictly come about due to your desire to use Parmigiano Reggiano in novel ways?

While I thoroughly enjoy crafting drinks and desserts, the development of the Parmigiano Reggiano-infused cheesecake and martini recipes was driven by my desire to showcase the cheese’s extraordinary qualities: captivating aroma profile, nutritional benefits, the aging process, the diverse milk used in its production . . . the list goes on!

Parmigiano Reggiano’s biodiversity deserves more recognition and exploration and I’m determined to shed light on its potential in ways that have yet to be fully realized. However, it’s important to note that my culinary expertise goes beyond drinks and desserts: I enthusiastically delve into various flavors, techniques and culinary concepts that span the savory and sweet domains.

The post Are you putting Parmigiano Reggiano in your espresso martinis? You should be appeared first on Salon.com.

To be clear, I fall into the latter category.

I vividly remember early in the pandemic when tabloids ran headlines that were equal parts “you go girl” and pearl-clutchy after, as People magazine put it, Stewart shared a “sultry pool selfie on Instagram.” You’ve probably already seen the widely-shared image of Stewart propped on the edge of her East Hampton pool, wearing a sleek black one-piece and pursing her frosted pink lips at the camera.

“Wait, is this a thirst trap?” one commenter wrote, while another added: “Okkk, Martha, servin’ up more than just crafts, cooking and cocktails today!”

This wasn’t the last “thirst trap” — social media parlance for a spicy photo — that Stewart would post. There were those mirror selfies, as well as that topless Green Mountain Coffee Roasters campaign. (She enjoys her coffee with the flavor of pumpkin spice and “nothing else.”) But being a SI Swimsuit model is perhaps one of the greatest thirst traps of all.

Through it all, detractors of Stewart have dismissed these playfully sexual images as incongruous with the wholesome lifestyle brand she has built for nearly four decades. It’s an argument that smacks a bit of sexism and ageism, but as someone who has spent a lot of time poring over Stewart’s life and career, I would say it’s an argument that is also wholly inaccurate.

Since the beginning of her career, the ethos of Stewart’s work has been about elevating everyday experiences to live life more fully. Increasingly, we’re seeing her take that philosophy outside of the home.

***

There’s a recurring bit from the “Iliza Shlesinger Sketch Show” in which the titular comedian plays a lifestyle show hostess, a la “Martha Stewart Living.” At one point, she daintily wraps a piece of tulle ribbon around a raw fish carcass. “Now, doesn’t that look normal?” she mews to the studio audience as the camera zooms in on her creation.

I love this sketch for a variety of reasons, but mostly because when the series initially aired on Netflix in 2020, it quickly became a meme in a group chat filled with friends who had picked up what can best be described as “urban homesteading” activities, such as baking sourdough and quilting, amid the pandemic. In that context, the meme took on a darker humor. Like, “Hey, I know the world is burning around us, but I decorated this inane object in my house that serves no real purpose. Observe my handiwork.”

As someone who works in food (and has heard pretty much all the bad-faith arguments about why food, or lifestyle topics in general, shouldn’t be considered as deeply as “harder news” topics like politics and technology), I think a similar sentiment underlies much of the criticism of Stewart’s work throughout her career.

That was certainly the case in author Jerry Oppenheimer’s “Just Desserts: The Unauthorized Biography of Martha Stewart,” which promised to shatter Stewart’s perfect image.

“Stewart’s personal life is a far cry from the cheery portrait of the epitome of household perfection she paints for her fans in her writings and public appearances,” Oppenheimer wrote in the book’s description. “Now for the first time, ‘Just Desserts’ reveals how her driving ambition shattered her marriage, strained her relationships with her daughter and family and destroyed friendships.”

The book hasn’t aged particularly well. As one Amazon reviewer astutely pointed out, it’s essentially a blend of National Enquirer-esque blind items and condescending gossip from unnamed “chums.”

“He set out with a premise that Martha is a cross [between] Maria from ‘Sound of Music’ and Mother Theresa and then victoriously shows us that this isn’t the case,” they write. “For example, did you know that she lied about catering her first party when she was seven? Furious research by [Oppenheimer[ has proved that her mother helped her!”

Because so much of Stewart’s work is perceived as über-aspirational, there’s an intense societal desire among some — such as Oppenheimer — to kick her legs out from under her or reveal that it’s somehow all a sham. These are the same people who reacted in delight when Stewart checked into prison for a five-month stint in 2004 after lying about her sale of ImClone stock, an event that especially shattered the illusion that she was superhuman.

But — as author Joan Didion pointed out in her New Yorker profile of the lifestyle mogul four years earlier — “by branding herself not as Superwoman, but as Everywoman, Stewart has made even her troubles an integral part of her success.”

“She presents herself not as an authority but as the friend who has ‘figured it out,'” Didion wrote. “The enterprising if occasionally manic neighbor who will waste no opportunity to share an educational footnote.”

It’s a subversive way to approach our cultural attitudes toward domestic labor. Stewart herself described her inspiration for her work on “The Charlie Rose Show” as such:

I was serving a desire — not only mine, but every homemaker’s desire, to elevate that job of homemaker. I was floundering, I think. And we all wanted to escape it, to get out of the house, get that high-paying job and pay somebody else to do everything that we didn’t think was really worthy of our attention. And all of the sudden, I realized: It was terribly worthy of our attention.

In her assessment of Stewart’s detractors, Didion echoes this sentiment, referring to many of them as “misogynistic in a cartoon way.”

“Oddly uncomfortable, a little too intent on marginalizing a rather considerable number of women by making light of their situations and their aspirations,” Didion wrote, which is an applicable description of many of those in the comments section under Sports Illustrated’s cover model announcement.

***

In its recounting of Stewart’s “thirst trap era,” Spy posited that she had actually entered her “bad girl era” (both phrases are used seemingly interchangeably in the story) following her release from prison. It was during this time that Stewart began more seamlessly blending her lifestyle brand with her actual life, which also saw her exploring more celebrity friendships, including those with Kris Jenner and Snoop Dogg.

Both relationships, but especially Stewart’s friendship with Snoop, have garnered a significant amount of media attention because — much like her decision to grace the cover of Sports Illustrated in a swimsuit — they’re considered somehow antithetical to a particular brand of wholesome, wicker-encased Americana.

But as Stewart wrote on Instagram regarding the cover, her motto has always been “when you’re through changing, you’re through.”

“So I thought, why not be up for this opportunity of a lifetime?” she said. “I hope this cover inspires you to challenge yourself to try new things, no matter what stage of life you are in.”

Granted, Stewart has certain privileges and resources that make her version of living one’s best life look radically different than most. She is white, thin and wealthy, to name a few. But endeavoring to do so, and being stylish along the way, remains at the core of her brand.

In the end, one thing remains true: Martha Stewart, the woman, and Martha Stewart, the brand, are inseparable. I’m thankful to her for providing a template for continuing to live life my fully, even if there are those who would prefer that we stay in the kitchen.

The post “More than just crafts, cooking and cocktails”: Martha Stewart’s brand has always been subversive appeared first on Salon.com.

The Grand Hotel in Point Clear, Alabama is a magical place steeped in history; Bucky was very passionate about sharing its history with those who visited. The natural beauty alone is magical. Sprawling over 550 acres, only a few miles south of Fairhope, right along the eastern shore of Mobile Bay . . . it is exquisite. 

When you enter the front gate, there’s enough beauty to take your breath away: From the sight of the lagoon to the gardens and enormous, moss-draped, majestic old live oaks, with branches and limbs reaching almost to the ground before turning back skyward. There are walking paths that wind through the property like pale ribbons against the green of the landscape and if the weather permits, people play croquet or sit at one of the many picturesque spots looking out at the water.

There is a gravity about the place. Even if you know nothing about its history, you feel it. If only the walls or the grounds could speak . . . 

Bucky referred to the Hotel as being hallowed ground and he educated visitors and locals alike about the Hotel’s history from his pulpit: behind the bar of his Birdcage Lounge where he was bartender extraordinaire. From early March through the end of summer, his strawberry mojitos and mint juleps were simply divine on a warm, sunny day. Never too sweet and always ice cold, the first sip even better than you thought it would be, his cocktails were picture perfect.     

The Birdcage is now called Bucky’s Birdcage since his passing in 2002. It is a beautiful bar with mostly glass on the west facing side, so the view of the grounds leading out to the shore of Mobile Bay (Julep Point, to be specific) is uninterrupted. As you might guess, the sunsets are spectacular. And right outside the bar is a life-sized bronze statue of Bucky, created by a local artist. Interestingly, in August of 2005 when Hurricane Katrina hit, Bucky’s statue was the only thing left standing on the bay side of the hotel. Katrina brought with her a decimating twelve-foot storm surge, leaving six feet of standing water in the main building. But Bucky remained! A little dirty, but he cleaned up just fine.    

Bucky would tell you that the hotel was built in 1847 and guests originally traveled by steamboats to enjoy their holiday by the bay. He would go on to say that by the mid-1860s, during the Civil War, the Hotel was used as a military hospital and close to 300 soldiers are buried under a canopy of live oaks in a small cemetery across the street from the main building near one of the Hotel’s golf courses. 

Bucky was very proud of the fact that in 1944, Ed Roberts — the owner at that time — offered the Hotel to the US Army Air Corps as a staging and training center for a very important and secret military operation known as Operation Ivory Soap, a vital part in World War II’s final push. Over 5,000 men were trained at the Hotel and it was known as the Bootless Camp because the soldiers removed their combat boots while inside out of respect and to keep the beautiful hardwood floors as pristine as they were when they arrived. 

The Hotel endured as evidenced by the fact that it is still standing today, but as mentioned, it was battered by some formidable storms. Although bought and sold numerous times over the years, it remained privately owned until Hurricane Frederic came ashore near the Alabama-Mississippi line in September of 1979. The resulting damage from that terrible storm was so extensive that at that point, the owners reached out for corporate help. Marriott bought the Hotel in 1980 and put fifty million dollars into renovations and improvements.

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Aura J. “Bucky” Miller began working at the Hotel in 1941 at the age of twenty-four. He became a valued and honored associate — an icon, really — and ambassador. Thanks in large part to him and his leadership, the hospitality and charm that exists at the Hotel has never waned. Bucky was legendary. 

Bucky was loved and he was deeply appreciated. His legacy lives on and that makes me incredibly happy.

I hope wherever you are, you are enjoying Spring like I am here along my little bay in Coastal Alabama. It is precisely this time of year when the humidity is (relatively) low, a cool breeze is easily found and the sun is shining bright and warm that I think back to the days I lived but a short bike ride away from the Grand Hotel. 

Although I wouldn’t want to turn back time, it is easy to romanticize the past, when I only had myself to worry about and cocktails with friends after work at the Birdcage was a common occurrence. What a whirlwind that time of my life was. I didn’t think a lot about change then. 

Now, especially this time of year, I make Bucky’s cocktails at home for my husband and myself and we sit on the porch listening to the loons. They are about to depart and head north after being here all winter, so it’s bittersweet. I guess that that’s the thing about change. It’s bittersweet. The Hotel has changed—it’s fancier than it’s ever been and my life has changed, too — it also is a little fancier now, come to think about it. Most of the time, I think all the change is good . . .  great, in fact.

But every now and again, I want a little taste of what I left behind. These two cocktails will forever bring me back to The Grand Hotel. 

The post Pay homage to long-time Grand Hotel bartender Bucky with these ice-cold, not-too-sweet cocktails appeared first on Salon.com.

That’s why ALDI released its all-new summer alcohol beverage line-up, which is now available on store shelves.

“Just in time for summer, ALDI — one of the fastest-growing grocers in the U.S. — is introducing its NEW Summer Alcohol Beverage line-up nationwide, including 11 new products such as Zarita Cocktail Pouches, Don’t Mind If I Do Sparkling Rosé, Intermingle Buttery Chardonnay and more — all for under $14,” the supermarket chain wrote in a press email.

“Inspired by hot days and even hotter beverage trends, these poolside-worthy sips will make ALDI the go-to destination for alcoholic beverages this summer at refreshingly low prices. This year’s assortment has everything you need to take your summertime sipping up a few degrees, available beginning today.”

From bubbly rosé to hard iced teas and citrusy cocktail pouches, here are 11 new bubbly beverages you should pick up during your next ALDI’s grocery run:

01

Don’t Mind If I Do Sparkling Rosé

Don’t Mind if I Do Sparkling Rose (Photo courtesy of ALDI)Don’t Mind if I Do Sparkling Rose (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

Priced at $12.99 a bottle, the ALDI’s Don’t Mind If I Do Sparkling Rosé flaunts a bright fruit flavor and a refreshing red fruit finish.

02

Intermingle Buttery Chardonnay

Intermingle Buttery Chardonnay (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

This smooth Chardonnay also includes both aromas and flavors of honeyed pineapple, tropical fruits, buttery vanilla and spices. To top it all off, each bottle is priced at just $6.99.

03

Corte Bella Dark Red

Corte Bella Dark Red (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

Perfect for enjoying alongside grilled meats and BBQ (two summer staples!), this deep and rich wine features notes of blackberry, raspberry, blueberry, and black currant. Be sure to grab a bottle for only $8.95!

04

All Play Hard Iced Tea

All Play Hard Iced Tea Variety Pack (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

This variety pack is a must-have for summer gatherings and parties. Iced tea flavors include Original Tea, Half Tea & Half Lemonade, Peach Tea and Raspberry Tea. Each pack also comes with an impressive price tag of $13.99.

05

Zarita Cocktail Pouches

Zarita Cocktail Pouches (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

These pouches, available for $1.89 each, are perfect when you’re craving a fun summer cocktail minus all the fuss and mess. Flavors include Tropical Hurricane, Strawberry Daiquiri, Pina Colada and Lime Margarita.

06

Zarita Freeze Pops

Zarita Freeze Pops (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

Alcohol in popsicles? Say no more! ALDI’s low-calorie Hard Seltzer Lemonade Freeze Pops come in Lemonade, Mango Lemonade and Strawberry Lemonade. Each pack of pops is available for $13.99.

07

Pacific Fruit Vineyards Bubbly Sweet Punch

Pacific Fruit Vineyards Bubbly Sweet Peach (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

If you’re a fan of fruity wines, ALDI’s Pacific Fruit Vineyards Bubbly Sweet Punch is the perfect pick for you! This light-bodied wine includes notes of fresh peaches, making it the perfect beverage to enjoy with a fresh meal — like a fresh salad or seasonal roasted veggies — and a beautiful day. It’s also priced at just $4.99.

08

Corte Bella Red

Corte Bella Red Blend (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

Unlike its dark red cousin, ALDI’s Corte Bella Red features notes of rose, raspberry, forest fruit and red fruit. The only similarity it shares with the Corte Bella Dark Red is its price tag, which is also $8.95!

09

Locken’s Tropical Pineapple Kolsch

Locken’s Tropical Pineapple Kolsh (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

This refreshing and fruity style of German beer touts a juicy tropical aroma with an underlying breadiness, as described by ALDI. Available for just $7.99, the beer is the perfect beverage to enjoy with grilled meats and seafood.

10

Giambellino Watermelon Bellini

Giambellino Watermelon Bellini (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

Nothing screams summer like a watermelon-flavored bellini! ALDI’s Giambellino Watermelon Bellini swaps out the peach for watermelon to make a cocktail that’s perfect to enjoy during weekend brunches. Each bottle is also available for $5.99.

11

Zarita Blueberry Margarita

Zarita Blueberry Margarita (Photo courtesy of ALDI)

If you’re looking for a cocktail that pairs well with tacos, look no further than ALDI’s Zarita Blueberry Margarita. In addition to tequila, triple sec, and lime juice, the brand’s rendition of the classic cocktail adds in a generous amount of sweet blueberry flavors. Run, don’t walk, to your nearest ALDI to pick up a bottle for just $13.99!

The post Prepare for warm weather with 11 new bubbly beverages from ALDI’s summer alcohol line-up appeared first on Salon.com.

If you’re not familiar, bottomless brunches incorporate more booze than your traditional brunch by offering food and unlimited alcohol for a set price. Unlike brunch, which rose to popularity across the United States in the 1930s, bottomless brunch is a more modern phenomenon. According to data from Google Trends, search interest in both bottomless brunch and bottomless mimosas grew steadily in 2011 and peaked just a few years ago in April 2021.

When it comes to mimosas, it’s no surprise why the cult favorite drink is a must-have brunch pairing. The mimosa is tasty. It’s sweet. And, it’s effortlessly elegant when served in a tall champagne flute. It’s also quite simple to make — just mix champagne with chilled orange juice or any citrus beverage of choice.

Mimosas were initially known as “champagne-orange” in London, where they were introduced to the Queen by Earl Mountbatten of Burma after a visit to the south of France. “The royal family has begun a new fad in drinks among London’s fashionable Mayfair set,” reported the Sydney Morning Herald in 1961. “The Queen, the Duke of Edinburgh, and the Queen Mother all have adopted a Champagne cocktail they call mimosa.” Like its name suggests, a “champagne-orange” consisted of nothing but cold champagne over orange juice. But instead of drinking it during the day, the cocktail was typically enjoyed before dinner. 

It was the Europeans who brought the mimosa to the United States in the late 1960s. By then, brunch had already taken off as a national success but with a different menu of cocktails. Banana daiquiris — made with rum, bananas, lime juice and maraschino cherries — and double martinis were quite popular. Robert Moss of My Recipes wrote that Charley O’s, an Irish pub in Rockefeller Center, served their own rendition of a “champagne orange” made with champagne, orange juice and Cointreau.

Surprisingly, mimosas were a major hit in swanky New York nightclubs and amongst Hollywood elites. Alfred Hitchcock was once seen “drinking mimosas (Champagne and orange juice) and smoking an eight-inch cigar,” according to a reporter for the London Express. Vanessa Redgrave also sipped on a “Champagne mimosa … her pet mixture of bubbly and orange juice” during a visit to the Big Apple. And French actress Denise Darcel told the Detroit Free Press, “In France we drink mimosa.”

By the 1970s, mimosas became a signature brunch cocktail alongside the bloody mary. Mimosas were a common offering “on brunch menus in restaurants all across the country, like the Brewery in Chicago, the Old World Restaurant on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles, and Brighton Coach Restaurant in Dallas,” Moss wrote. Soon enough, recipes for mimosas appeared in newspapers and magazines.

As for bottomless mimosas, the unlimited cocktail further emphasizes the hedonistic aspect of brunch — it’s delicious and it makes you feel really good! Bottomless mimosas also convince consumers they are getting more bang for their buck, which is an old-school marketing principle called “psychological pricing,” per Eater.

“Essentially, to a customer, $19.99 price feels far less expensive than $20, even though the difference is a mere penny,” explained Eater’s Brenna Houck. “The same concept explains why those $17 bottomless mimosas you’re drinking seem far better than paying $8.50 per individual glass.” 

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“When you go bottomless, you’re estimating that you can consume two or more cocktails in one brunch date to get the full value of the purchase.”

Houck added that bottomless mimosas are considered a “loss leader” or “an item sold at a loss with the goal of getting diners to spend more on other items.” So interestingly, endless supplies of the cocktails also help restaurants generate revenue.  

Take it from Niki Gross, the managing director of the Heritage Restaurant at the Whitney Peak Hotel in Reno, Nevada, who told Eater, “Even though our margin might be eaten into just a little bit, we really make up for it on the food side because we’re keeping people here for at least two to three hours. We’re selling more food. So it all balances out in the end.”

So there you have it, bottomless mimosas are a necessity and a pleasure! They’re all the more reason to go out for Sunday brunch, even if that crippling hangover from Saturday night says otherwise…

The post Keep the booze comin’! How did bottomless mimosas become a brunch staple? appeared first on Salon.com.

I wasn’t ready for how much I loved absinthe. The anise-y, licorice-forward notes were refreshing and livening. They felt at once new and exciting, the opposite of the ornate—yet decaying—theater I was surrounded by, but also full of avant garde artist energy, pushing boundaries. Sordid and salutary all at once. I sensed history in it all.

It’s fitting that my introduction to the spirit was amongst disheveled artists. The spirit garnered both glory and its bad-news reputation in 19th-century France, where everyone from Van Gogh to Oscar Wilde was a fan (or at least absinthe-curious), producing works of art both glorifying it and demonizing it whether or not that was the artist’s intent. No spirit has had quite the reputation, though perhaps whiskey and country songs would give it a run for its francs.

But what is absinthe? It’s named for the chief ingredient that makes it unique: artemisia absinthium, which you might know as wormwood. Traditionally, wormwood—along with a host of other botanicals such star anise and fennel—is macerated in high-proof, distilled alcohol (although once upon a time wine might have been used). Once flavored, the alcohol is diluted and redistilled. These days there are some producers who take the shortcut of simply adding extracts to flavor an already distilled alcohol, although these are considered to be of lesser quality.

People seemed to look past the uptick in reported cases of alcoholism and the rise in drugs like opium and morphine, focusing instead on the alleged misuse of absinthe. True, the intake of absinthe in France had grown from 700,000 liters a year in 1874, to 36 million liters in 1910. But, these were misleading statistics, as absinthe only made up 3% of alcohol consumed in the country, with wine taking the lead at 72%.

Still, absinthe was the villain in this melodrama, the thing to blame for all societal ills. The wine industry, go figure, was one of its biggest enemies; happy to get a contender out of the alcohol race. France banned sales of absinthe in 1914, and soon it was prohibited pretty much everywhere but the UK and Spain.

The anti-absinthe party blamed wormwood, the crucial ingredient in absinthe making. Wormwood contains a compound known as thujones, which is a terpene. In large doses terpenes could cause convulsions, but one would die of the alcohol in absinthe far before they would be affected by the level of thujones.

In the absence of absinthe, quite a few anise-based spirits that didn’t contain wormwood grew in popularity, but never quite hit the mass appeal of absinthe. (At least there weren’t artists carrying it in a hollow cane around the Moulin Rouge as Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec once did.)

Nearly a century later, science prevailed as studies revealed that the amount of thujones in absinthe were not behind the madness. In 2007, challenges to the absinthe ban were raised and countries began to repeal the ban. Lucid became the first absinthe approved to be imported to the United States in 2012.

As the bans lifted, drinks like the Sazerac and Pastoral Wander reentered the modern bartender’s wheelhouse of classic cocktails. As for me, I love to riff on absinthe as a nod to its wacky and storied history. Thusly, I created The Last Sword, a quick and easy drink perfect for a gin lover.

The post The folklore-filled history of absinthe appeared first on Salon.com.

Growing up in Chicago, I remember how every March the river would be dyed with vegetable dye — a tradition that began in 1962 — in preparation for the holiday, as patrons decked in green T-shirts and beads cram into area pubs like Schinnick’s and Hinky Dink’s.

In the U.S. especially, St. Patrick’s Day has become a drunken celebration of all things green, beer included. It’s a far cry from the original, more solemn observances of St. Patrick’s Day, Ireland’s patron saint, which usually involved Irish Catholics attending morning mass and perhaps partaking in a feast later in the day. The Connaught Telegraph once described the Irish holiday by saying, “St. Patrick’s Day was very much like any other day, only duller.”

RELATED: The best Irish brown bread is baked at Clonbrock Castle — here’s how to make it

While the conversation generally skews toward drinks, another fun way to get festive on March 17 is with food. That’s why we’re sharing 5 of our favorite St. Patrick’s Day recipes from the Salon Food archives today. You’ll feel lucky if any of these gems are part of your celebration:

1 Baileys Irish Cream Cookie Sandwiches

This recipe for Baileys Irish Cream Cookies comes from Meghan McGarry, the proud Irish American owner of Buttercream Blondie. Wondering what they taste like? Well, think of an Irish coffee — which beautifully combines espresso, a little whiskey and cream — in cookie sandwich form. 

“I paired Irish whiskey and coffee together, because they’re the ultimate power couple,” McGarry previously told Salon Food. “The Baileys floating through the cookie is very delicate, and in the filling is the espresso for an extra shot of flavor that beautifully cuts through the sweetness.”

For an extra touch of festiveness, reach for a Shamrock cookie mold. Don’t have one? No worries! Grab any 3-inch cookie cutter and some green sprinkles for a thematic touch. 

2 Baileys Irish Cream Brownies

Have some leftover Baileys on your hands? Follow McGarry’s lead again and consider using it to spike a batch of brownies. A single shot really enhances the batter. You can follow her homemade recipe, reach for a box mix or maybe give Salon’s extra-dark espresso-infused variety a try. 

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3 Jameson Mule

As Salon’s Erin Keane wrote for “The Oracle Pour,” “Why is a grown-up St. Patrick’s Day toast so hard to imagine? Celebrating this holiday as an American adult shouldn’t have to be a choice between an obnoxious public event or a demented solo living room reading of ‘The Lieutenant of Inishmore.’ (Play the Pogues, hide the cat.)” 

Celebrate finding a middle ground between those options with a Jameson Mule. It’s a 5-ingredient play on the Moscow Mule, the backbone of which, as the name suggests, is Jameson Irish Whiskey. According to Jameson expert and mixologist Jane Danger, the bold flavor of ginger beer perfectly complements the complex flavors found in Jameson Irish Whiskey. 

“The balance of spicy, nutty and vanilla notes in Jameson Original are heightened with hints of sweet sherry and exceptional smoothness,” Danger told Keane. “The lime cuts the sweetness and adds a finishing touch of citrus to bring out the fresh Granny Smith apple notes.”

4 Copycat McDonald’s Shamrock Shake

“Like countless Irish Americans, I find St. Patrick’s Day a real mixed pot o’ gold,” Salon’s Mary Elizabeth Williams once wrote. “On the one hand, I’m proud of my heritage and my melancholy, pugilistic people. On the other hand, is there anything about the way the holiday is celebrated in the U.S. that isn’t just . . . gross?” 

Williams had a similarly fraught relationship with McDonald’s Shamrock Shake — the annual “limited-time only,” mint flavor-packed, drive-thru darling. To her, the faux mint-flavoring was a bit much. So, she decided to — as another famous fast-food chain puts it — have it her way. That meant ditching the mint, upping the vanilla and subbing in a glug or two of whiskey. 

5 All the Greens

Perhaps you want to enjoy something green that isn’t green beer? Be sure to check out this list of our favorite beans and greens recipes. To start, we’ve got a gorgeously crunchy kale salad inspired by Molly Baz. If you’re looking for something a little heartier, David Kinch’s beans and greens gratin blends a healthy amount of melting cheese with cannellini beans and torn kale, all of which gets topped with a crispy breadcrumb crust. Jackie Freeman’s cauliflower and lima bean gratin is a similar recipe — use either as a jumping-off point based on what you have in your own fridge and pantry. 

Read more: 

• The curious history of green beer on St. Patrick’s Day
• The best Irish brown bread is baked at Clonbrock Castle — here’s how to make it
• The Irish have become the forgotten players of America’s struggle for independence

The post Baileys, Jameson and plenty of greens: 5 of our favorite St. Patrick’s Day recipes appeared first on Salon.com.

While the rinse is most ubiquitous with the Sazerac, according to Esquire’s​​ David Wondrich, other applications include rinsing malted Scotch into a Manhattan, mezcal into a margarita, and Campari into a cosmo. Of course, there’s still tons of rinse-based exploration to be done, and we encourage you to try anything that your bartending brain believes in.

Although the traditional method (pouring, swishing, dumping) works fine, thanks to Food52’s resident drinks expert John deBary, we’ve learned a better, cooler way to rinse a cocktail—and all you need is a tiny spray bottle. For John’s preferred method, you’ll pour an ounce of the rinsing spirit into a small (roughly 50ml) spray bottle. Then, instead of pouring, swishing, and dumping, simply give the empty cocktail glass a few sprays and the job is done.

We love this trick for a few reasons. First, it looks fancy, and that alone can transform a simple, homemade drink into something grand. Second, if you plan on making a lot of rinsed cocktails, the convenient spray bottle will save you time and effort. Lastly, the spray bottle will make it easier to rinse the entire inside of the glass.

If you want to see John use the spray bottle himself, he demonstrates the technique in his Tompkins Square Cocktail tutorial, featured below. While you’re there, you might as well make the drink, too (it’s really good—we promise).

The post Why your bar cart needs a spray bottle appeared first on Salon.com.

From festive martinis to berry-hued sips that nod to the holiday’s signature shade — here are 9 of our favorite Valentine’s Day cocktails, including a few non-alcoholic options, that look and taste impressive.

1. Espresso Martini

The martini of the moment pairs especially perfectly with chocolatey treats, like these fuss-free chocolate truffles, or just as easily doubles as dessert all on its own. This version by chef Elena Besser gets a little flavor upgrade courtesy of a vanilla bean-infused simple syrup.

2. Rum Martinez Cocktail

Rum stands in for the traditional gin in this elegant riff on the Martinez from bartender and writer Harper Fendler. For a garnish that’s near-guaranteed to impress, top the finished drink with a fresh sprig of lightly torched rosemary.

3. Pink Coconut Water Cosmopolitan

A splash of pink coconut water, which gets its signature shade from oxidation, gives this simple yet stunning take on the classic cosmo an extra refreshing factor. Serve with a citrus twist in your prettiest coupe glass (like these hand-crafted beauties) for bonus presentation points.

4. Pom Fizz

Meet your bar cart’s new BFF for Valentine’s Day and beyond: an absurdly easy, one-ingredient pomegranate syrup that couples up nicely with sparkling white wine or Prosecco. Another fizzy pairing (that isn’t a Mimosa) to consider: Champagne and strawberry juice.

5. Seedlip Clover Club

The original Clover Club formula gets a booze-free update thanks to Seedlip Garden 108, an herbal non-alcoholic spirit, plus an extra dash of brightness (and showstopping ruby hue) from homemade raspberry syrup.

6. Smoky Pear & Ginger Margarita

With a few ingredient tweaks (in this case, a combination of tequila and mezcal, pear juice, and ginger), one of summer’s go-to cocktails becomes cool weather-friendly — and the perfect plus-one to a Valentine’s Day meal.

7. Cold Brew Negroni

Further proof that cocktails and coffee go hand in hand, this caffeinated spin on the Negroni from Chloë Callow’s Cold Brew Coffee strikes just the right flavor balance.

8. Gin Martini

Tried and true, consider this your guide to making the perfect Martini for you — complete with tips for modifying the recipe to your tastes and handy tools to help you pull it off for date night at home.

9. Blackberry, Mint, and Basil Sparkler

Fresh herbs, citrus, and blackberry jam (yep, jam) team up for an effervescent mocktail that doesn’t miss the alcohol one bit. That being said, vodka or rum would complement the ingredients if you wanted to swap out the Seedlip for a boozy version.

The post 9 Valentine’s Day cocktails we simply adore appeared first on Salon.com.

“A great amount of profit in your restaurant will be made off of alcohol,” she shares. “But also, the history of the cocktail, the story of it, is still being written, and you can be a part of it.”

To make your mark, Ms. Pittet suggests following a few core principles. The first being, knowing when to shake or stir a cocktail. To determine the answer to that (basic) bartending question, Ms. Pittet advises examining the ingredients. “If a cocktail has juice of any kind, dairy (cream or milk) of any kind, or eggs (whole or yolk) — if it has any of those three things, you’re going to shake it,” she explains, because those ingredients are heavy. “When you shake [a cocktail], you’re aerating it, getting everything together and diluting.” The opposite technique is employed if a drink does not call for those ingredients — you stir to avoid aerating.

Though at times bartenders may stray from this general guideline, it is considered a best practice. “It’s not wrong to shake, but it will compromise the texture,” she says. For example, if a martini is shaken instead of stirred, it becomes cloudy. “And the beauty of a martini is that crystal clear look to it.”

When mixing your cocktail, Ms. Pittet warns to always begin with the cheapest ingredients first. “If you mess up your drink at some point, you are only ruining the cheaper ingredients.”

Bartenders often put their hand at the bottom of the glass while they stir so they can tell if a drink has reached the peak temperature. “You are stirring the cocktail to both chill and dilute it, so a bartender can kind of tell by the look for the right dilution and by the feel if it is chilled enough,” she explains.

Ms. Pittet recommends following the formula of classic cocktail recipes, most of which have been around for more than a century. “Cocktails are all about balancing strong spirits with the bitter or sour and sweet,” Diana says. “You need to keep those ratios all in good measure.” The easiest way to do that is to follow what she calls “tried and true formulas.”

Diana advises investing in proper equipment and good quality ingredients — preferably from scratch whenever possible. “Use fresh ingredients, nothing out of a soda gun. Make your own sour mix and use fresh syrups,” she says. “You need good ice. It should be clean ice so it’s not imparting any off-flavors. Beautiful, clear ice for the aesthetic and the proper ice so it’s not going to dilute the drink too quickly or under-dilute it.”

Even the garnish should be intentional. “Don’t just plunk a lemon or lime into a drink,” she says. “When I express a lemon into an old fashioned, it really binds the drink together. It is not an afterthought.”

Of course, the experience goes beyond the science of the cocktail. “When the bartenders of this new wave of cocktails began, they were very geeky and serious about cocktails, and they forgot, sometimes, about the hospitality.” Diana reminds us that people go to bars for the camaraderie as much as the service. “Now more than ever that is key.”

By Kiri Tannenbaum, Institute of Culinary Education

The post Core rules for cocktails: Night Owl Hospitality owner Diana Pittet explains mixology basics appeared first on Salon.com.

1. Half-Proof Cocktails

Low-ABV cocktails are ideal for the sober curious, or those in search of something ever-refreshing without a boozy punch. John Debary’s Radler — made with beer, a non-alcoholic aperitif, and lots of seasonal citrus — is the perfect example of this style of drink. Half-proof cocktails have also been on the circuit for quite some time without us being truly aware. They’re some of the most popular drinks of the last few years: the Aperol Spritz, the Shandy, the Negroni Sbagliato (thanks to the dilution from sparkling wine . . . ahem, with prosecco), and the Kir Royale (depending on whether or not you’re an “Emily in Paris” fan). Half-proof is the moment, and we’re just living in (and for) it.

“Half-proof sips are perfect for when I want to feel fancy, but I also want to be able to have more than one cocktail on a weeknight. They’re the best of both worlds,” says Assistant Editor Madison Trapkin.

Recipe: Blood Orange Radler

2. Gin Martini

Asking for another “new” twist on a martini in 2023 is like a splinter; painful. Sorry to all espresso martini lovers, but it’s time to come back to the classics. The gin martini offers a touch more flavor profile than vodka (thanks to infused aromatics), and those herbal elements pair really well with olive brine.

“The gin martini is a classic drink that has countless fans and I am one of them. It’s my go-to drink to accompany any dinner, happy hour, or bowl of fries. I order mine dirty (what can I say, I love olive juice) and the brine of the olive juice blends perfectly with the herbal flavor of the gin, making it a simple order that very rarely disappoints,” says Commerce Editor Julia Gómez Kramer.

Recipe: Gin Martini

3. Mushroom Cocktails

Mushrooms have been a main character lately. As an easy swap for meat (thanks to their sumptuous texture and endless varieties), there’s truly something for everyone with mushrooms. And as savory drinks become more mainstream, it’s time to let the mushroom shine in a brand new capacity: the cocktail. I know I just said “no more new twists on the martini,” but this pickled beech mushroom martini with garlic olive oil? Stunning.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CSw3C5mnrTB/

4. The Spritz

The spritz has been high on the popularity list for some time, thanks in part to the low-ABV (as mentioned above). Wine, digestive bitters, and some splashy soda water is truly all you need to cobble together this refreshing drink. If a spritz were a dog, it would be a golden doodle: reliable, recognizable, loyal, and sweet.

Brand Pantry Manager Sebastian Sardo says, “The Spritz feels like a special moment. It transforms a simple Friday after work or Sunday afternoon into a chic and sophisticated moment, especially when paired with a spontaneous ‘what do I have in my fridge’ cheese board.”

Recipe: Evergreen Spritz

5. Pickleback

It’s really just a 90’s hit with fresh packaging (and we’re not mad about it). As antioxidant-packed beverages have become standard fare, we ask, why not bring it to the bar? Because it’s a ferment, pickle juice is chock-full of probiotics, and the salt helps you stay hydrated. The most common pickleback pairing — whiskey — creates a rich, umami finish.

“If you’re taking a shot, have a pickleback instead. Savory, briny drinks are having a moment, and what could be more savory or briny than pickle juice? Plus, they’re a great way to use up extra brine from that jar in the back of your fridge,” says Editorial Assistant Anabelle Doliner.

Recipe: Picklebacks

6. The New York Sour

The “New York” part of this cocktail is a bit of a misnomer; the beverage was first created in Chicago under the name Continental Sour and was also known under the aliases Brunswick Sour and Claret Snap. A cousin to the Whiskey Sour, its special element comes from a drizzle of red wine that’s topped off at the end, not shaken with the rest of the ingredients.

“It’s wildly good,” says Erin Alexander, Managing Editor.

Recipe: New York Sour

The post 6 cocktail trends we’re thirsty for in 2023 appeared first on Salon.com.

These recipes call on beautiful seasonal produce like rhubarb during the spring; berries, watermelon, and stone fruit during the summer; and root vegetables like beets during the colder months. Rim a glass with fiery spices for a bit of heat, or add a sprig of thyme or rosemary for a subtle earthy flavor and a stunning visual aid. Low-ABV and nonalcoholic cocktails are finally getting their time in the spotlight, and we’re so excited to celebrate them with these recipes from our superstar recipe developers.

1. The NYC Special from Lainey Collum

Mix up a thirst-quenching trio of Coca-Cola, a cinnamon- and coffee-infused simple syrup, and sweetened condensed milk together for one ultra-indulgent bubbly beverage. There’s plenty of caffeine to give you a jolt whenever you need it . . . say, at 5 p.m.?

2. Non-Alcoholic Espresso Martini

Non-al meets ’90s nostalgia in this booze-free twist on an Espresso Martini. Seedlip Spice 94 takes the place of vodka, and the rest is pretty standard — chilled espresso, light brown sugar syrup, and all.

3. “Pimm’s” Crown from Rob Brouse

Instead of using the original Pimm’s liqueur, a gin- and fruit-based cordial, recipe developer Julia Bainbridge developed a genius, nonalcoholic version using an assortment of citrus fruit, two types of tea, raspberry vinegar, and juniper berries. Mix it with ginger ale and even more freshly squeezed lime juice for a pleasantly bitter beverage.

4. Jardín Verde from Bryan Dayton

Seedlip is the premier brand of nonalcoholic mixers, and here, recipe developer Julia Bainbridge paired her favorite flavor (an herby, grassy, floral elixir) simply with tonic water, a cucumber twist, and a sprig of fresh basil.

5. Yu The Great from Samantha Azarow

A homemade basil-matcha syrup paired with coconut milk and soda water is a graciously green nonalcoholic drink. “You really want Thai basil, which is less sweet, more herbal and licorice-like — spicy, even,” says recipe developer Julia Bainbridge.

6. Padova Spritz from Tobin Shea

“It’s 5 o’clock on a summer Friday. This is the drink for that,” says recipe developer Julia Bainbridge. A four-ingredient cocktail made with chinotto soda (an amber-colored, orange-flavored bubbly), red verjus, soda water, and an orange twist sounds like it’s exactly what we need.

7. Change of Address from Eric Nelson

Soy sauce, maple syrup, and Coca-Coca don’t at all sound like three ingredients that go together, but trust us when we say it’s the perfect not-too-sweet, not-too-savory mocktail.

8. Tepache from Yana Volfson

Whether or not you live in a warm, sunny climate, this mocktail will instantly transport you to the tropical vacation of your dreams.

9. Non-Alcoholic Raspberry Mojito

Consider this mojito-inspired mocktail a bright and bubbly tonic for chilly winter days. Fresh lime juice, mint, and homemade raspberry syrup join muddled fresh raspberries and LaCroix Black Razzberry for a sparkling sip.

10. Sparkling Rhubarb Lemonade

Move over, pie! We have a new use for rhubarb that we can’t get enough of — it’s this nonalcoholic cocktail. Cook the rhubarb with sugar, lemon zest, and fresh mint until it has released its pretty-in-pink color and tart flavor. From there, strain the mixture and then combine it with freshly squeezed lemon juice and lemon-lime soda for a fun, fizzy drink.

11. Beet Tonic Spritzer

For a nonalcoholic cocktail that has a serious wow factor, shake up a trio of beet juice, honey syrup, and lemon juice. Strain the mixture into your favorite highball drinking glass and top with ginger beer and tonic water.

12. No-Proof Banana Daiquiri

Inspired by Bananas Foster, this luxurious non-alcoholic drink has a few tricks up its sleeve to recreate the essence of the classic dessert. Full-fat yogurt adds a creamy mouthfeel, while the turmeric brightens the palate, and the Seedlip Spice 94 makes it a well-rounded mocktail.

13. Booze-Free Toddy with Apple Shrub

Homemade apple and black pepper shrub teases out the citrus and amps up the ginger’s natural zest. Before serving, warm your glassware so that your toddy stays toasty for as long as possible (and keeps your hands warm, to boot).

14. Tea Thyme Soda

“This recipe is a riff on a delightful iced tea that gets served in the summer at both Queen of Sheba Ethiopian Restaurant and Stumptown Coffee in Portland, Oregon,” said recipe developer hardlikearmour. Skip the bourbon for a nonalcoholic sip.

15. Cucumber-Fennel Fizz

The fresh flavor of puréed cucumber and fennel adds a delightful crispness to this fizzy beverage. Garnish with a sprig of fennel fronds and a sprinkling of frozen blueberries, which add a purple-blue pop of color.

16. Mango Lemonade

The juice of poached mangoes is blended with sugar, saffron, and lemon juice for a tropical twist on a classic drink. It serves four, but you can easily double (or triple!) the recipe to satisfy a crowd of summertime partygoers. 

17. Retro Raspberry Lime Rickeys

Let’s take a trip back in time to something simple and delicious — like this nonalcoholic drink inspired by the original lime cocktail. We dressed our version up with macerated, syrupy raspberries and fizzy sparkling water for pizzazz.

18. Watermelonade

Puréed watermelon juice is mixed with a three-ingredient homemade lemonade (simple syrup, water, and freshly squeezed lemon juice) for a thirst-quenching mocktail.

19. Fizzy Orange Sherbet Cooler

Cool off with this family-friendly nonalcoholic cocktail that features a refreshing combination of homemade orange sherbet bobbing about in orange juice and seltzer. If you need us, we’ll be on the front porch sipping on this all summer long.

20. Red Bull Cranberry Mocktail

A Red Bull and vodka is a fierce cocktail, but this nonalcoholic version pairs ginger beer, apple cider, and Red Bull together (with an assortment of warm spices and herbs) for a fragrant beverage that will soothe the soul come fall.

21. Seedlip’s Stewart Howard

When you need delicious, high-quality nonalcoholic mixers, turn to the brand Seedlip. Here, we’ve made use of their Spice 94 (a blend of allspice, cardamom, and citrus) by shaking it with lemon and grapefruit juices and simple syrup.

22. Lemonade

No powdered mix here! Keep things simple, sweet, and a touch sour with our recipe for homemade lemonade. All you need is the zest and juice of 4 or 5 lemons, granulated sugar, and water to make this nonalcoholic drink.

23. Moonlight Sonata

“If Beethoven had been a mixologist instead of a composer, this might have been one of his signature pieces. It’s sweet and pleasant at first, with a bit more excitement as the limeade melts and makes its presence known,” says recipe developer AntoniaJames. It may sound too good to be true, but we promise it’s not — try it for yourself.

24. Vanilla-Thyme Lemonade

For a little sweetness, a little earthiness, a little tartness, and an all-around delicious drink, try making this simple infused lemonade, which serves four thirsty pals.

25. Rhubarb Lime Spritzer

Normally when we hear rhubarb, we instantly think of its partner-in-crime: strawberry. However, we decided to pair it with something entirely new and just as complementary: lime!

26. Andrew Chau and Bin Chen’s Japanese Coffee Cola

Think of this as an American Coke Float, said recipe developers Andrew Chau and Bin Chen. A cool combination of cold-brew coffee and cola is poured over ice and topped with the most decadent salted buttercream, because why not?

27. Mango and Basil Fizz Mocktail

Sweet mango and fragrant basil are truly a genius pairing (if we do say so ourselves) in this marvelous, measured mocktail.

28. Tomato Shrub

Skip the vodka and make this nonalcoholic version of a Bloody Mary. We didn’t skimp on the flavor — chopped tomatoes sit overnight with a combination of spices (whole coriander seeds, whole cumin seeds, cinnamon sticks, and red pepper flakes) and white wine vinegar for a serious sip.

29. Spicy Mango Limeade

There’s a double dose of spice in this mocktail — the glasses are rimmed in a combination of smoked paprika and sea salt, and then are filled with a juicy combination of mango nectar, lime juice, and a homemade jalapeño simple syrup.

30. Kristin Donnelly’s Watermelon Agua Fresca

Six cups of watermelon are blended into a smooth purée and mixed with club soda, fresh lime juice, and lots of drops of Angostura bitters. The best part (aside from the refreshing taste) is that you can make the base a couple of days in advance, which will make party prep feel like a light summer breeze.

31. Grapefruit Radler from Jeffrey Morgenthaler

Make use of your favorite nonalcoholic beer (recipe developer Julia Bainbridge prefers Busch NA) in this citrus-forward, booze-free cocktail.

32. Saffron and Cardamom Lemonade Concentrate

This extra-yellow nonalcoholic lemonade gets its super sunny hue from saffron. The strands are scarlet red, but once you infuse them into simple syrup, they release a vivid yellow color and floral flavor that works so well in this earthy mocktail.

33. Snow Peony Punch

We couldn’t believe that this uber-elegant drink was nonalcoholic. It features an all-star cast of coconut water, ginger ale, and lychee syrup for the beautiful punch base. Rim each glass with flaked coconut for a peek at the flavor waiting inside the glass.

34. Blackberry Lemonade

We’re switching things up from the usual strawberry lemonade with its berry beautiful relative — blackberries! They’re puréed with lemon juice and then stirred into a homemade lemonade mixture for a purpley nonalcoholic cocktail that everyone will love.

The post 34 best nonalcoholic cocktails for flavor-filled, booze-free sipping appeared first on Salon.com.

Here are five historical warming sips from Britain to see you through the bright lights of the holidays and the dark days of winter.

1. Tom and Jerry

Sportswriter Pierce Egan is credited with this precursor to the modern egg nog. It appeared in 1821 in his monthly serial “Life in London: Or, the Day and Night Scenes of Jerry Hawthorn Esq., and his Elegant Friend Corinthian Tom,” which was adapted for the stage that same year.

The drink seemed to follow the play’s success as it traversed from London’s West End to New York’s Broadway in 1823. It was recognized as a Christmas classic in 1843, when it was revered in “The Symbol, and Odd Fellow’s Magazine” as a more refined version of “a long concocted beverage,” the Flip. It might seem a bit fiddly to make, but the result is worth the extra effort.

Ingredients for batter mix (makes about 40 servings):
3 eggs (whites and yolks separated)
15 ml rum
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp ground clove
1/8 tsp allspice
1/8 tsp creme of tartar
1/8 tsp vanilla extract
120 ml caster sugar

Method: In one bowl, beat the egg whites to a stiff froth. In another bowl, beat the yolks until they are as thin as water.

Mix yolks and whites and add the rum and spices. Thicken with sugar until the mixture attains the consistence of a light batter.

Ingredients for one serving:
60ml of Irish whiskey
Milk of choice
Grated nutmeg

To make one serving: Combine one tablespoonful of Tom and Jerry batter with Irish whiskey in a coffee mug. Fill the mug with hot milk. Garnish with a little grated nutmeg.

2. Gin Twist

Among the most popular gin drinks during London’s severe winter of 1822, the Gin Twist was immortalized in several poems published in London newspapers. One such poem comprised 149 lines with each stanza comparing the tipple with other popular drinks at the time, such as this one about rum:

Ye Bailies of Glasgow! Wise men of the West!
Without your rum bowls, you’d look certainly tristes; Yet I laugh when I’m told, that liquor so cold Is as good as a foaming hot jug of gin-twist.

It is a remarkably simple drink made with gin, sugar, water and lemon juice, plus a lemon twist garnish to prove the concoction was made with fresh lemon juice — a true luxury back then. The Gin Twist still offers a superior drink today.

Ingredients:
50 ml gin
25 ml simple syrup (or a tablespoon of white sugar)
25 ml fresh lemon juice
75-100ml boiling water

Method: Combine ingredients in a teacup or Irish coffee mug. Stir. Garnish with a lemon twist.

3. Dog’s Nose

This might seem an odd combination to a modern palate more accustomed to sugary mixers, such as cola or tonic water, but the blend of porter or stout, gin, and brown sugar or dark treacle makes for a remarkably good winter sip. The Dog’s Nose first emerged in Charles Dickens’s 1836 book “The Pickwick Papers.”

Thereafter, the potion was frequently mentioned in newspapers and magazines for nearly a century before its popularity waned. Served at Victorian-era room temperature or heated with a loggerhead (a red-hot poker heated in the fireplace), this drink warms both the heart and soul as the wintry snows settle on the ground.

Ingredients:
25 ml gin 100 ml porter or stout 10 ml dark treacle

Method: Combine gin and treacle in a rocks glass or tumbler. Stir to dissolve the treacle. Add the porter and stir gently once more. Warm in a microwave if you want to make the heated version.

4. Smoking Bishop

When Ebenezer Scrooge finally came to his senses in Dickens’s 1843 novella “A Christmas Carol,” he said to Bob Cratchit with a smile:

We will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob!

There is a bit of mystery to this drink’s origins. While Dickens appears to have added the “smoking” to the name, the English literary critic George Saintsbury hypothesized in his 1920 “Notes on a Cellar-Book” that it was born at Oxford University.

Its earliest mention is in the 1827 edition of Oxford Nightcaps, the first British book devoted to drink recipes. That book calls it a traditional drink and cites its origins in antiquity — and its rich, spicy tones and imported ingredients may have indeed made it a favorite among the elite in late medieval England.

Ingredients:
6 Seville oranges
115 g caster sugar
1 bottle Portuguese red wine
1 bottle port
whole cloves

Method: Stud the oranges with cloves and roast them in a small metal bowl or baking tray until they are golden brown. Deglaze the roasting pan with wine. Combine the remaining ingredients with the roasted oranges in a pot and simmer covered on a low heat for about 20 minutes. Optionally, you can also press the oranges in the pot and sieve the liquid before serving.

5. Brandy Toddy

To heat drinks before microwaves, many landlords opted for a loggerhead, which took a Toddy from a cold drink to a boiling hot one in five seconds. Heated with a loggerhead, the Toddy acquires a distinctive taste since the heat from the loggerhead is so intense it caramelizes the sugars in the drink and fills the room with the aroma of toasting marshmallows.

You can occasionally find a loggerhead on Etsy or eBay mislabelled as a “fire poker.” The dramatic effect of heating a Toddy with this antique device is a holiday visual treat, but they are quite dangerous so I advise caution. Here we recommend making this warming winter nightcap the modern way.

Ingredients:
1 tsp caster sugar
60 ml brandy or cognac
60 ml boiling water

Method: Pour brandy or cognac into a coffee mug. Add sugar and water. Stir to dissolve.

Anistatia Renard Miller, PhD in History, University of Bristol

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.

The post 5 historical hot cocktails that are perfect for cold weather appeared first on Salon.com.

Hawn is the sublime, Oscar-winning star of “Cactus Flower,” “Death Becomes Her,” and “Private Benjamin.” Oliver Hudson, Hawn’s other child with musician Bill Hudson, and Wyatt Russell, her son with actor Kurt Russell, are both in the industry, too. (Plus, Wyatt is married to Meredith Hagner, another one of my favorite actors, who starred in the criminally under-appreciated “Search Party.”) It’s a real family affair.

Off-screen, Hudson plans to release her first album next year. She’s also an entrepreneur, who has launched fashion and liquor companies, such as Fabletics, Happy x Nature, INBLOOM and King St. Vodka.

Hudson was recently on the popular “Hot Ones” YouTube series hosted by Sean Evans, where she promoted “Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery.” She co-stars in the sequel to 2019’s terrific “Knives Out,” which drops Dec. 23 on Netflix.

When Evans asked Hudson if she had a signature cocktail for the holidays, she revealed that she had recently developed one named after her mom.

“I made a lychee martini, and I did two ounces vodka, two ounces lychee, an ounce of the cranberry and then I did a dash of orange bitters,” Hudson said as she listed the ingredients. “And it’s so good, and something my mom loves. So, I called it ‘Goldie’s Mad Dash,’ which also is her personality.”

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“I just love a good drink,” Hudson continued. “In the winter, I love my bourbons, and I’ll have a whiskey. You know, the fire — the cozy-by-the-fire drink.”

Cozy by the fire — say no more.

While the drink may veer into a bit of a sweet realm, it would certainly make a bright and festive libation to enjoy over the holidays. You can easily opt for one of the many alcohol-free vodkas currently on the market if you’re looking to skip the booze.

Whichever way you pour it, curling up by the fire with a Goldie’s Mad Dash and a movie like “The First Wives Club” or “Glass Onion” would make for a wildly cozy and entertaining holiday evening.

The post Kate Hudson named a signature cocktail named after her mom. Here’s how to make “Goldie’s Mad Dash” appeared first on Salon.com.

It’s nothing she hasn’t done countless evenings at Porco Lounge & Tiki Room in Cleveland, where she works behind the bar. And yet, this night’s different: she’s mixing and serving her own creation for judges who will decide if it has the potential to join the storied ranks of the classic rum cocktails, the ones everyone knows. Think: daiquiri, mojito, Old Cuban. That’s the company Holzer’s own creation, A Mi Manera (“My Way”), aspires to keep.

Holzer is one of eight U.S. finalists competing to be one of two national winners of the Tales of the Cocktail Foundation Legacy Cocktail Competition, presented by Bacardí, to advance to the Bacardí Legacy Global Cocktail Competition in Miami this May, where 41 contestants from 40 countries will vie for the international title. (I attended Legacy as a guest of Bacardí.) Competitions like this are one established pipeline through which new drinks spread to bar menus around the country and the world, and a stage where tomorrow’s cocktail stars get discovered.

Holzer is first. She’ll get two minutes to set up and then the music cuts and her mic comes on, giving her six minutes to tell her drink’s story — and make no mistake, the story isn’t everything but it is key — to the panel of judges and a room full of spectators, while she shakes, strains, and pours.

“Leaving your legacy as a woman is especially important,” Holzer begins from the stage.  “Unfortunately, we’re so far less represented and recognized. So for my Bacardí Legacy campaign, I chose to amplify the legacies of the women in my community by listening to the incredible stories that they have to share.”

As she measures and pours, she tells her story: how each ingredient in her drink represents a lesson she was taught by another woman, lessons she hopes to pay forward in the future.

“My friend Liz told me about a time that she was struggling to find her place in the service industry. And then she said to me, I hope one day to be a mentor so as not to subject women to what I had to go through to get to where I am. Aquafaba is the ingredient that helps bring rise to all the great flavors in A Mi Manera,” Holzer narrates, pouring the chickpea foam, a vegan substitute for egg white, into the shaker. “So its flavor goes undetected, but its presence becomes very apparent in the final product.”

With each ingredient, she adds to her story. “Sherry brings strength and wisdom to the recipe. It represents the spirit of our feminine ancestors, who paved the way for us today.”

Then it’s time to shake. The crowd goes wild, whooping and clapping as a flash of silver slices the air.

* * *

One place where women aren’t underrepresented is the U.S. Legacy finalist stage. Two winners would emerge from the evening’s competition, representing the eastern and western U.S. divisions. Holzer competes against three New York-based bartenders, two men and a woman. The western finalists, dominated by Los Angeles and San Francisco, are three women and one man. In fact, all of the women who competed that week in the semi-finalist round advanced. (This came as a surprise to my Uber driver earlier that day — old assumptions about who an elite bartender would be die hard, apparently.)

But Holzer is the lone Midwesterner and non-coastal bartender to make it this far in San Juan. She’s also fairly new to cocktails, having come over from Cleveland’s robust beer scene a little over a year ago. Maybe in the eyes of some, that makes her an underdog going up against three dudes from New York bars. But Holzer doesn’t seem fazed about making the national finals for this major competition in only her second contest ever.

“I think it’s pretty special that I get to represent Cleveland,” Holzer, 26, told me that morning, before she and her fellow competitors headed to the beach for a yoga class. The vibe among the bartenders is more we’re a family than I’m not here to make friends, by the way, a philosophy that Bacardí heavily encourages through four days of group activities planned around the competitions. “I don’t think people think about Cleveland as a place for food and drink as much as they should. We’ve got some fantastic cocktail bars.”

At Porco, Holzer explains, she has “kind of [a] laboratory” with the freedom to experiment beyond the tiki menu. Designing a cocktail for a competition like Legacy is a balancing act: part science and part artistry, working within very specific constraints. The list of rules is long. There are 17 alone just for the ingredients, which can’t number more than six, including the base which must be chosen from a short list of Bacardí (obviously) rums. No homemade bitters or tinctures. No tobacco or CBD infusions. No more than three alcoholic ingredients. It cannot involve setting anything — repeat: anything — on fire.

The goal here is to create an elevated drink that could potentially find a home on any cocktail bar menu: a classic in the making rather than a trendy beast, an attention-seeking stunt, or an oddball with niche appeal.

 “A true legacy cocktail can travel the world, be easily replicated and is likable to the masses,” clarifies Bacardí Rums North America Vice President Lisa Pfenning.

For A Mi Manera, Holzer mixes Bacardí Ocho, an 8-year aged rum that’s become a mainstay for craft cocktails, with Oloroso sherry, a homemade strawberry syrup, lemon juice and the aforementioned aquafaba, and mint leaf garnish.

It didn’t take Holzer long to nail it — about two sessions. For an artist like her (literally: Holzer has a fine art degree), working within strict parameters isn’t necessarily inhibiting.

“Good things come from restrictions sometimes because it forces you down a path and forces you to think creatively,” she said. “It really pushes you to think beyond what you would have done if you could do anything at all.”

The hope is that these drinks will have an afterlife long past the competition, on the menus of the bars where competitors work and beyond. Winning the Bacardí Legacy Global Cocktail Competition is a pretty nice boost for a bartender’s career — they spend the next year traveling the world, educating their industry peers, recruiting the next round of competitors, and showcasing their drink and its story. That’s how new classics are established, after all — one menu adoption at a time.

“Legacy’s goal is to bring forth contemporary classics in cocktails, but it also creates contemporary legends in bartenders,” said Caroline Rosen, president of the Tales of the Cocktail Foundation, Bacardí’s partner in the competition.

Pfenning points to Darnell Holguin, 2017 East Coast U.S. Legacy winner and now beverage director at Las’ Lap in New York, which is co-owned by “Black Panther” star (and rum aficionado) Michael B. Jordan, whose winning cocktail “It Was All a Dream” is a fixture on the Las’ Lap menu. Legacy alumni also go on to open their own bars, mentor future competitors, and even serve as competition judges.

“Our 2016 winner, USA’s Gn Chan, had the chance to explore cocktail culture in more than twenty cities worldwide and work with some of the best and most passionate bartenders across the globe,” Pfenning added. “He then went on to create the wildly successful ‘cocktailmobile’ concept of Double Chicken Please, a roving pop-up bar/restaurant that’s based out of a vintage VW van and travels across the country.”

So there’s more at stake here than bragging rights, especially for a relative newcomer.

* * *

Here’s the thing about the story part of the cocktail competition: It’s easy to dismiss it as marketing bullshit, hype crafted to help sell a drink. But being able to tell a good story is a time-honored bartending skill. Even in the diviest of dives, it’s what separates the wannabes from the pros. And if competitions like Legacy are about elevating bartenders, not just their drinks, to star status, the story is where the bartender’s personality — and their values — really shine. 

Across the industry, Rosen says “bartenders are now, more than ever, tapping into their creativity and the full life cycle of the cocktail from creation to consumer. It’s more than just flair, it’s being meaningful about sourcing all aspects of the cocktail.” 

On the finals stage, bartenders told stories about their childhoods, their families, their long summer nights in the city, the life-changing power of love and international travel. When done right, the story of a drink meshes with the story of a person, too. And even when serving the most complicated cocktails, it’s never just about the drink — if you can make a patron feel like they’re in their own personal “Cheers,” they’re more likely to be loyal, to follow the bartender wherever she goes.  

A conversation with Holzer quickly reveals that she’s not here to sling rum-spiked girl-power platitudes. There’s a drive for equality and justice behind her drink’s story. 

If, like that Uber driver, you’re surprised to learn that women bartenders are innovating, competing, and showing up and off at this level, maybe that’s because of the (utterly tired and outdated) image of the Fancy Man Mixologist of the early 21st Century, Heroic Figure of the Craft Cocktail Revolution — gartered sleeves folded across his chest, mustache tips waxed to a point — that still hasn’t completely faded from the public imagination.

“I think part of it might be the women are busy actually working, doing their job, so they don’t have time to sit there and hold their arms crossed and be the face of something,” Holzer said with a laugh. “We see it in every profession, once you get to a certain level. For some reason, you see the women not as equally represented as men. But that’s not a talent thing.”

She’s also quick to point out that in her community, at least, that image isn’t crowding out the field.  

“What I see in the women and the men around me is an active desire to change that,” she said. “Cleveland is pretty progressive in that way.”

Part of competitors’ campaigns for their cocktail involves also raising money for a cause, which then becomes part of the drink’s story. Holzer’s putting the A Mi Manera money where her mouth is and funding affordable health care for women in the service industry, where many workers in still go without, despite the demands of their jobs. Part of those unique health needs, Holzer emphasizes, are reproductive — not having to pay thousands of dollars to get an IUD inserted or removed, for example, can make all the difference for workers who live on tips.

“You are constantly using your body to create cocktails, walk on the floor. It’s stress on your joints and your muscles. And on your brain, you know, constantly talking to people, mental health is also part of it because if you don’t take care of yourself, you can’t take care of your guests,” she added. 

* * * 

Holzer put up a strong presentation, but in the end was bested for the Eastern U.S. title by the elegant stylings of Tsunetaka Imada (of the East Village speakeasy Angel’s Share), whose cherry blossom-inspired Sabor à Mi brings Japanese plum wine together with Bacardí’s four-year aged rum. Taylor Cloyes, of LA’s Here and Now (one of Esquire’s Best Bars in America for 2019) took the West Coast title with her tart apple and Ocho, feminine power-inspired Maestra. They’ll both go on to compete for the global title in Miami later this spring. 

But winning, as they say, isn’t everything. For a relative newcomer like Holzer, even before she stepped onto the finals stage, just being there in San Juan introduced her to prominent members of her industry and a wider audience, networking and visibility that can pay off in future opportunities. She cited the challenges they were judged on that week as a valuable opportunity to learn and grow. But it also gave her an opening to lead, too.

“It gives me agency to leave a legacy for myself, which sometimes it takes a little push. And this was a big push,” she said. “I’ve never had an opportunity to put together an events to champion a cause to teach other people things. This gave me the opportunity to step on the other side, take authority and make things happen the way I want them to happen.”

A mi manera, indeed. 

* * *

Want to try your hand at a Legacy-worthy cocktail? Here are the winning recipes from the U.S., plus Gaby Holzer’s creation. 

SABOR A MI — Tsunetaka Imada’s Winning Cocktail

Ingredients:

• 1 ½ parts BACARDÍ Añejo Cuatro
• ½ part Plum wine
• 1 part Pink Grapefruit Juice
• ½ part cinnamon syrup
• 2 tsp Lemon Juice
• 2 dashes of Orange Blossom Water
• Garnish: Umeboshi

MAESTRA — Taylor Cloyes’ Winning Cocktail

Ingredients:

• 1 ½ parts BACARDÍ Reserva Ocho Rum
• ½ part Laird’s Apple Brandy
• ¾ Lemon Juice
• ¾ Green Apple Syrup
• ¾ Soda Water
• 1 Egg White

A MI MANERA — Gabriela Holzer’s Cocktail

Ingredients:

• 1 ½ parts BACARDÍ Reserva Ocho Rum
• ¼ part Lustau Oloroso Sherry
• ½ part Strawberry Syrup
• ½ part Lemon Juice
• ½ Part Aquafaba
• Garnish: Mint Leaf

The post Bar fight: In Puerto Rico, elite bartenders rum-ble in a cocktail mix-off appeared first on Salon.com.

But this summer, why not try something different? Many drinks have fallen into obscurity over time. Carefully documented in Oxford Nightcaps, which was published in 1827, they deserve their day in the sun. Here are five drinks that hail from around the world to add to your repertoire:

Limonade

Sweetened lemon juice and water was a cooling sip in 16th-century France. But it was the Paris debut of effervescent limonade, made with naturally sparkling spring water, that saw the drink soar in popularity in the summer of 1630.

The French passion for fizzy lemonade grew so much that in 1676 vendors formed a commercial guild called the Compagnie de Limonadiers. These licensed sellers dispensed their wares from limonadieres, which were ornate dispensers strapped to their backs.

Lemonade really took off though thanks to a little English contribution in the 1700s when artificially carbonated water was invented. Writing in a paper in 1772, the scientist Joseph Priestly described the process as “impregnating water with fixed air”. This research was used to launch the household name we continue to know and love, Schweppes, in 1783.

Today, the limonadieres are all but forgotten and bottled sparkling French lemonade is commercially sold just about everywhere, though nothing can beat the freshness of this classic version. For two servings:

Ingredients
150 gr caster sugar
120 ml water
Strips of lemon peel from 1 1/2 lemons
Strained juice of 3 lemons
250 ml sparkling water

Method Combine sugar and water in a small saucepan. Stir over medium heat until the sugar is dissolved. Add the lemon peels and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer uncovered for five minutes. Let the syrup cool and stir in the lemon juice. Remove the lemon peels. Pour into a small pitcher and add sparkling water. Serve.

Switchel

Switchel debatably originated in the Caribbean, but New England also holds credit as the source where it refreshed 17th-century New England colonists. Also known as haymaker’s punch, the drink hydrated fieldworkers toiling under the searing sun during the hay harvest.

Punched up with a healthy shot of Jamaican rum, it also braced Washington’s senators and congressmen during heated sessions in Congress during the 1800s. If molasses is not to your taste, try making this recipe with local honey. For eight servings:

Ingredients
4.5 litres water
360 ml molasses
80 ml apple cider vinegar
1 tbs fresh ginger, grated

Method Blend all ingredients in a large pot. Decant into pitchers and serve in mason jars.

Nimbu Pani

In the days of the Raj, colonists encountered Nimbu Pani, lemonade’s bright cousin. The surprising twist is kala namak, which is a black salt. Ice came at a premium, even in the elite colonial clubs in Bengal, Madras (now Chennai) and Bombay (now Mumbai). But it’s surprising how the salt chills the palate as well as the water, cooling the drink down to the last sip.

Nimbu Pani is still a popular thirst quencher in India and can still be found on street corners around the country. For two servings:

Ingredients
Strained juice of 2 lemons
2 tbs caster sugar
1/4 tsp kala namak (black salt)
1 pinch of table salt
600 ml cold water
2 fresh mint leaves

Method Place lemon juice, sugar, water and salts into a small jug and stir until sugar and salts are dissolved. Pour into tumblers. Garnish with fresh mint leaves and add two or three cubes of ice, if desired.

Optional: For a spicy kick, add 1/2 tsp of chaat masala.

Julepum Stomachicum (Stomachic Julep)

Adventurous 18th-century Brits sipped a sophisticated mint julep found in the 1753 edition of William Lewis’ New English Dispensatory. It was believed that this Julep helped relieve stomach issues.

Although the original included a hydrosol (a non-alcoholic distillate) of fresh mint, the whiskey infusion and a bouquet of fresh mint sprigs in a julep cup (a metal tumbler) will more than make up for this extra step. For one serving:

Ingredients
60 ml mint-infused Irish whiskey 10 ml saffron syrup

Method Saffron syrup: Bring 150 ml of water to a boil in a small saucepan. (Optional: you can use dry sherry in place of the water here.) Add 125 gr caster sugar. Stir to dissolve. Remove from heat, add 10 threads of saffron to the mixture and cool. Let the saffron rest in the syrup for a few days and strain. This syrup will last about two weeks if kept refrigerated.

Mint-infused whiskey: Crush seven sprigs of fresh mint into an empty glass bottle. Pour in Irish blended whiskey to fill. Seal and allow to infuse for seven days. Strain into a fresh, empty bottle.

To serve: Fill a julep cup halfway with crushed ice. Pour in the whiskey and syrup. Using a long bar spoon, lift the ice and its contents to blend. Then add more crushed ice to fill. Add a bouquet of fresh mint and a pair of short straws to serve.

Ponche (Diapente)

Lexicographer Francisco Sobrino defined ponche or diapente, in 1732, as an English drink made with aguardiente, water, lime and sugar. Sound familiar?

Ponche predated grog, the drink ordered by Admiral Edward “Old Grog” Vernon to replace the daily beer ration, which spoiled too quickly during long voyages and was too heavy to transport. (The daily rum ration was abolished in 1970 after concerns that drinking alcohol would lead to unsteady hands).

But when the Royal Navy captured and held the port of Havana in 1762, the fleet introduced the locals to this drink which they adapted into the canchánchara, a honeyed ponche, and later, the now famous Daiquirí Frappé. For one serving:

Ingredients
250 ml cold water 20 grams caster sugar 32 ml fresh lime juice 60 ml aguardiente or silver Cuban rum

Method Stir ingredients together in a mixing glass to dissolve the sugar. Strain into a tall glass. Add a couple of cubes of ice, if desired.

Anistatia Renard Miller, PhD in History, University of Bristol

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.

The post 5 historical summer drinks to keep you cool appeared first on Salon.com.

Cold-infusing tea, just like cold brew coffee, is a great lazy way to make a concentrated base that keeps in the refrigerator, allowing you to pour yourself a portion whenever the need strikes. With that method, this drink produces an extremely refreshing and complex non-alcoholic cocktail. (Yes, this is a cocktail.) I’m using both standard green tea leaves, as well as matcha powder — which is a finely ground form of green tea — to create a super concentrated, double layered infusion. Cardamom provides an additional “green” dimension, and honey rounds everything out. This recipe is quite forgiving: Feel free to use lemon or lime juice, whatever you have handy, and dial up or down your measurements depending if you want more acidity or sweetness. You can also have a little fun and swap out the still water for sparkling, or even go wild with a sparkling wine. — John deBary

Watch this recipe

The post Iced green tea with cardamom is the perfect way to celebrate summer appeared first on Salon.com.

The sloshie was conceptualized in 2012 at Creekside Market — they filled a drink machine with freshly squeezed grapefruit juices and a sizable amount of vodka. From there, “The Hound” was born and locals still frequent this spot for a cold, tangy, frozen drink to pair with whatever outdoor adventure they’re up to. Until 2002, you could legally drink while driving in Wyoming (for passengers, until 2007), meaning locals were already accustomed to having a cold one in tow.

The sloshie reintroduced a more legal way of getting a cold drink with “legs” (to-go) and after the popularity of the Hound, pretty soon every bar, gas station, restaurant, and booze store in town was slingin’ sloshies in different flavors and sizes. Who actually came up with the name is debatable and dependent on who you ask but after consuming one, you’ll understand its name origin. In its simplest form, the sloshie is king, as it’s easy to make for the masses (juices, sweetener, and lots of alcohol) and doesn’t require a bartender’s labor.

Think of sloshies like an endurance sport. “While living in Jackson, I remember frequently counseling friends to think small when it came to sloshies; a 20-ounce cup (or sometimes, even larger in towns like Hoback) was a special occasion, not a default,” says former resident, Scott Eren. “Under absolutely no circumstances can you have two sloshies, particularly before a river trip — no fucking way. Not in my boat.”

“It’s Wyoming,” says Chas Marsh, co-founder of Jackson Hole Still Works. “Liquor laws are conducive to sloshies,” he adds. The amount of alcohol added is unregulated and the only open container regulation is in a vehicle — but thanks to a tamper tape seal that’s taped over the plastic cup’s lid to prevent people from drinking and driving, it’s OK to drive with (but not drink) them. It’s kind of like being in New Orleans but switching out the heat and the city streets for moderate temperatures and fresh mountain air. The booze-friendly laws coupled with the serene surroundings make it a cult pastime — especially for locals who appreciate the great outdoors and a stiff drink.

While there’s no shortage of sloshie stops, over the years, sloshie drinkers have developed an appreciation for the craft. There’s never a wrong time for a sloshie, even in the dead of winter, but the market is saturated with pre-mixed concoctions that contain lots of sugar. A tourist might not know better, but locals are well aware of where to get a quality sloshie.

On Wednesdays during warmer months, The Slow Food People’s Market is a bustling community scene for local food and produce, and yes, sloshies. “We go through 40 gallons of sloshies in three hours, or as fast as we can get them out,” says Goodman, who pops up a portable sloshie stand each week. “Creekside started with the ‘hound and we definitely pay homage to them,” says Marsh. “Our approach is to create classic or new, creative cocktails and turn those into sloshies,” he adds. “We are focused on creating a sloshie that acts as a true cocktail.”

“There are a bajillion sloshie options out there — the appeal to continue in this town is coming up with quality cocktails,” says Goodman. The popular frozen drink is a way to introduce people to Stillworks’ quality gin and vodka via the tasting room.

The consensus from locals is that the three best places to get a sloshie are Creekside, Jackson Hole Still Works, and Rations. Where you get your sloshie establishes important street cred in these neighborhoods (though I prefer Bud’s Eastside Liquor for a dessert mudslide sloshie).

Jackson Hole Still Works attracts a more off-the-beaten-path, discerning crowd. “We’re on the way to the river but we’re not directly on the road. You have to know where you’re going,” says co-founder Travis Goodman. “Our customers know what they want when they arrive,” he adds. In the summer of 2018, Marsh and Goodman joked about getting a sloshie machine at their distillery. “A week later, it paid for itself and we now sell upwards of 150 sloshies per day.

At Still Works, there are rotating taps filled with multiple options like Tiki AF, Blackberry Cobbler, Great Green Juice, and Jamaica Tea — all of which are made with fresh juices. Locals agree: it’s truly a sport. “I don’t think I ever went on a float without a sloshie, and I’ve been on dozens of floats,” says Eren. You don’t drink them while driving, but you have a plan of where you’re drinking them before you arrive. “Between the heat, impatience, and excitement of the always takes-longer-than-it-should shuttling of cars and inflating boats before a float, I need the sloshie to make the less fun parts great — and to keep spirits high before the real adventure,” he adds.

If heading north to Grand Teton National Park, stop at Creekside. The unassuming spot plows through roughly 30 gallons or more of the ‘Hound on a summer day and it remains the largest purchaser of grapefruit in the entire state.

And on the westside in Wilson, it’s Rations, where manager Delaney Burst told me that they recently sold over 400 sloshies in one day. The most popular flavors are cantaloupe limeade and passion fruit margarita. A nod to the low- or zero-cocktail trend, Burst noted the recent addition of a non-alcoholic sloshie. “I felt like it was important to share the sloshie love with everyone, including those who don’t want to or can’t drink,” he adds.

If you find yourself in Jackson Hole, plan your sloshie accordingly. And remember: quality vs. quantity; one will get you just right. If you’re over-ambitious, sloshies can be stored in the freezer to consume at a later date.

The post Jackson Hole isn’t just for skiing — it’s for sloshies, too appeared first on Salon.com.

“Anytime anyone says that they came straight here from the airport, I’m always like, ‘Welcome to the most California restaurant there is,'” Gracias Madre beverage director Maxwell Reis jokes. “We’re on the street where celebrities go if they want paparazzi to see them. People are camping out at a two-top in the patio trying to spot famous people. It’s hilarious.”

Gracias Madre, in addition to its location, its sunny patio, and celeb-friendly vibe, offers a fully vegan, Mexican-inspired menu (including very compelling vegan takes on fish tacos) and world-class margarita options. Taken together, this might be as Los Angeles as it gets. “Everything is organic,” Reis notes. “We support small farmers and use non-GMO corn for tortillas. We’re not about soy substitutes. It’s about celebrating the beautiful produce that California provides.”

The vibrantly colorful dishes and people-watching opportunities may be what draws guests in, but the famous margaritas keep them coming back. After all, what cocktail is more representative of southern California kickback vibes than a frosty salty-sweet margarita, leisurely sipped under that famous sunshine?

“It’s a quintessential LA thing, the margarita,” Reis says. “It’s always super sunny here. It’s very LA to want to be on a rooftop or by the pool with a margarita in hand.”

The various takes on the margaritas is where Gracias Madre truly shines. Specifically, there’s a translucent clarified margarita that inspires rapturous emoji heart-eyes from everyone that samples it.

Reis, a rising star in cocktail culture, first started experimenting with clarification techniques a few years ago. (Clarification is what it sounds like: Making a colored liquid clear by removing particles from it. There are multiple ways to do it, including using gelatin or a culinary centrifuge, a device that helps separate liquids from solids.) Reis tackled clarifying lime juice with his centrifuge but was frustrated that despite his hard work, the juices had a very short shelf life — but he kept on tinkering.

By the time the pandemic hit, Reis had refined a lime cordial (a sweet citrus syrup) that was the perfect addition for to-go cocktails. Additionally, it had a long shelf life (in case the restaurant had to unexpectedly close due to pandemic-era lockdowns) and generated no waste. The zero-waste cordial combines spent peels from the juicing process, day-old clarified lime juice, as well as citric and malic acids. The mixture is slow-cooked in a sous vide for a few hours, resulting in a silky, tart, clear cordial.

Initially, Reis was going to use the cordial in carbonated to-go cocktails. But inspiration struck. “All of a sudden I realized — wait, this is basically a Rose’s Lime Cordial,” he says. “I’ll make clear gimlets, margaritas, and daiquiris.”

When he started using the cordial in margaritas, Reis realized he needed to take the clarified theme one step further.

“I was stirring down this beautiful margarita,” Reis recalls. “It’s on this gorgeous cube. It’s super minimalist, like a glass of water with a pretty piece of ice. This is too elegant to put a salt rim on it.”

His solution? A transparent “painted” salt, made by adapting a gomme syrup recipe.

In the earliest cocktail books, which date back to the late 1800s, you’ll often find gomme syrup — a simple syrup that has gum arabic added to it. Thicker than traditional syrups, it’s used when bartenders want to add extra silkiness to cocktails. Reis tweaked a pineapple gomme syrup recipe; instead of adding sugar, he used salt and he swapped in oranges instead of pineapple. He also upped the proportion of the gum arabic to make the solution thicker than usual, so that it would stick to glasses.

Throughout last year, the labor-intensive recipe wasn’t officially on the menu. Reis would quietly make the drink for regulars and the occasional VIP. But word was starting to spread. After Reis served it to a visiting LA food editor, the secret drink was outed as one of LA’s best off-menu offerings. Soon, everyone was stopping in for a clear drink.

“It’s a pretty special, memorable cocktail,” Reis says. “I always tell people that the clarity isn’t just a gimmick. It’s actually delicious. It sits heavy on your palate like an Old Fashioned. People started coming and ordering it like crazy.”

The clarified classic cocktail is just one version of the margarita at Gracias Madre. There’s a house style, which can be made with mezcal or tequila, as well as spicy. Reis sources small batches of mezcal directly from family producers in Mexico, which means the margaritas will slightly vary from season to season.

Reis has also sourced a collection of vintage spirits, dating as far back as the 1960s. The idea is to offer a (literal) taste of time, while showcasing how margaritas tasted during the ‘Mad Men’-era. This time capsule of a drink is served in antique glassware. The margarita recipe for the vintage spirits collection is also from the ’60s, which means it uses lemon and lime, plus a touch of agave and a vintage orange liqueur. “It’s a really fun way to try what tequila tasted like back then,” Reis says. The vintage drinks run from about $60 to $150 per drink.

And if that weren’t enough, Reis is tinkering on a new offering for summer: An avocado and honeydew margarita served out of a frozen drink machine.

The high-low magic of a margarita that requires a lot of work behind the scenes, yet looks effortlessly easy breezy and ready for its social media spotlight, echoes the mood in today’s LA. “It’s a very LA thing to have this buttoned-up high-end version of something that’s so southern California,” Maxwell Reis says.

Recipe: Purista Margarita From Gracias Madre

The post Gracias Madre offers a taste of the margarita’s past and future appeared first on Salon.com.

Perhaps it’s Miami’s party-heavy vacation reputation coupled with the south Florida humidity and heat that have made the frozen daiquiri a signature cocktail here. Despite Cuba being the birthplace of the daiquiri clásico — a three-ingredient drink that’s been called the “granddaddy of rum cocktails” — it’s been outshined by the sugary slushy in the century since.

El Floridita in Havana, considered “la cuna del daiquiri,” or cradle of the daiquiri, where the frozen version is said to be invented (and where papa Hemingway often overindulged) is largely responsible. The bar is a requisite for first-timers in Havana; it’s similar to going for a Singapore Sling at Long Bar at Raffles or a Bellini at Harry’s Bar in Venice. On a recent trip to Havana in 2017, I hoisted myself up onto one of the round stools at El Floridita and watched, captivated, as bartenders in matching cherry-red aprons and ties put on a performance-like display, pouring Havana Club rum into a series of blenders along the bar. But after one sip of the tart, granita-like drink, I got my fix.

“In the 1990s and early 2000s, everything was around the frozen daiquiri in cities like Miami and New Orleans,” says Cuba-born Julio Cabrera, owner and “cantinero” of contemporary Cuban bar and restaurant Café La Trova in Miami’s Little Havana neighborhood. “But with the boom of mixology and revival of classic cocktails, daiquiris are getting more popular.”

Miami started morphing into a serious cocktail city over the past decade or so, thanks to bars like the Prohibition-style Regent Cocktail Club and Broken Shaker. Cabrera is part of the rising renaissance. Along with award-winning bartender and founder of Sweet Liberty John Lermayer, they helped make the daiquiri a fixture at bars, ultimately giving Miami serious cocktail credibility.

At Café La Trova, daiquiris are prepared the same way as the Cuban original — in a shaker with granulated sugar (not simple syrup), fresh lime juice, and BACARDÍ white rum. “I don’t double-strain — I don’t mind a few pieces of ice floating on top of the cocktail,” Cabrera says. A good daiquiri should be served really cold (but not overdiluted) in a coupe glass, he adds.

Cabrera champions the “cantinero” style of bartending from Cuba that kicked off in the early 20th century. Like at El Floridita, Café La Trova is a theatrical experience — drinks are vigorously shaken and “thrown” through the air in an acrobatic fashion. “Everyone makes theirs differently, but I’m seeing more and more places approaching the classic method,” says Danilo Bozovic, managing partner of Swizzle Rum Bar & Drinkery and author of “Barkeep Book: The Art of Mixology, Bar & Cocktails.” “The mojito may seem more popular, but the daiquiri is gaining steam and people want to try the authentic version — but they’re switching things up with overproof and funky rums from French islands like Guadeloupe or even places like Mexico.”

The classic expression nods to the city’s characteristically Cuban culture, but the cocktail continues to be modified and modernized, a reflection of Miami’s rapidly growing restaurant and bar scene. At Swizzle, the Floridita Daiquiri #2 doesn’t vary too much from the classic, except for the housemade, nonalcoholic orange cordial. But at some of Miami’s historic venues, like Ball & Chain on Calle Ocho, playful spins include the guava purée-infused pastelito daiquiri, which is garnished with a flaky Cuban puff pastry. Viet-Cajun Phuc Yea’s carbonated version, 90 Miles, comes mixed with salted coffee Fernet-Branca and a side of peanuts, while Airmail, located in the Alton Food Hall, has resurrected another variation of a daiquiri, the namesake, sparkling wine-topped Airmail.

Designed as a celebratory cocktail, the Airmail marked the revolutionary shift of letters being delivered by plane from Cuba to Miami beginning in the 1940s. “It’s a vintage cocktail — even past classic cocktail status — that not many people know about, but it’s special because it shows how a culture celebrates,” says Taryn Olsen, Airmail’s executive creative director. “Like daiquiris in general, it’s a tangible representation of the relationship between Cuba, Latinx culture, and Miami.”

“While the mojito is more of a symbol of Cuban culture for Miami, the beauty of a daiquiri is that it’s such a simple drink — when done properly,” says Gio Gutierrez, a Miami-based, Cuba-born content creator and Havana Club Rum brand ambassador. “Cuba is special for these iconic drinks, and, similar to New Orleans with its cocktail history, the daiquiri is a great example of a Cuban classic that has withstood the test of time.”

The post The magic of Miami’s modern daiquiri appeared first on Salon.com.

In fact, you’d be next in a long line of bar patrons, many of whom have had that exact wish granted while seated inside. As its name implies, Molly’s sits on Decatur Street near the French Market, and on busy days, customers can either head inside the doors or be served sidewalk-side from a window facing the street. But inside, behind the bar, urns contain the remains of longtime customers (yes, you read that right); they’re interspersed between top-shelf liquors, dangling patches, and baseball caps from first responders, years-old photos of patrons and bartenders, drawings, and satirical bumper stickers.

In a city with no shortage of dive bars, family celebration-worthy restaurants, gas station food counters, and snowball stands, it’s still remarkable to find an institution that demands that kind of loyalty, let alone as diverse of a clientele. On any given day at Molly’s, you’re as likely to find yourself chatting with a local news anchor or a French Quarter resident en route from work as you are a city visitor who stopped by on a nightly ghost tour.

What do they come for? A deliberately bright bar room, a heavy pour, and, at least 20 to 30% of the time, if the bar’s estimates are to be believed, the famed frozen Irish Coffee.

The drink itself is a blend of coffee concentrate, ice cream mix, whole milk, brandy, and coffee liqueur, but the magic is in the machine: frozen Irish coffee is churned out into a creamy consistency more akin to a Wendy’s Frosty than a frozen daiquiri, which you, of course, can find at any number of nearby Bourbon Street bars. The frozen Irish Coffee pours so thick that it curls into itself as it flows from the machine, the chocolate-colored swirl filling a plastic cup in seconds. Bartenders top it with a heavy shake of coffee grounds, which they incorporate using a plastic straw, creating a striking, spiraling swirl.

“The recipe is dialed in,” said Trey Monaghan, who runs day-to-day operations at Molly’s at the Market and another of his family’s bars, the Junction, both of which serve the beloved beverage. “Everyone [who works here] knows what the recipe is.”

The recipe has a 40-year French Quarter history. It started when Trey’s grandfather, Jim Monaghan Sr., who began the Monaghan family’s long tradition in New Orleans’ bar scene, noticed another bar down the block from Molly’s serving up a frozen beverage. In consistently hot and humid New Orleans, it was a lightbulb moment for the barman and his then-wife, Carol.

“In their mind, they were just like, we need to have that,” Monaghan said. The experimentation began, and soon enough, the pair created the frozen Irish Coffee, a nod to the family’s Irish heritage.

Still, it took time for the drink to really take off, according to Angie Koehlar, who was one of Monaghan Sr.’s business partners. With her husband, Troy, Koehlar eventually inherited the Erin Rose bar, which also serves frozen Irish Coffee.

“In the early 1990s, as always, I gave samples of the frozen Irish Coffee while (a bar patron) thought about what they wanted,” Koehlar said. She’d even offer up samples if a patron thought they knew what they wanted in a bid to find a bigger audience for the drink. “It really was a huge investment emotionally to get bartenders to understand that this is worth fighting for, worth preserving. It’s delicious, a beverage like no other. You can’t compare it to the mudslide, a Brandy Alexander — it’s on its own. Aside from being delicious and a standalone product, it’s a history, a tradition of the family, of Jim Monaghan.”

By the time Hurricane Katrina came along, Koehlar said, the drink was a New Orleans staple, as well known at the Monaghan bars as a Hurricane at Pat O’Brien’s.

Unlike other famous New Orleans drinks, however, it would be impossible to try to replicate the frozen Irish Coffee at home without a significant investment in a frozen drink machine. The consistency just isn’t possible with a blender, Trey Monaghan said.

Over the years, occasional bar patrons have sensed a change, which Monaghan admits has happened but only as a result of what ingredient brands have been available during the pandemic, or tiny adjustments made to the frozen machines in the three bars that serve it.

Recently, customers have been riffing on the frozen Irish Coffee recipe themselves — asking for extra shots of whiskey, vanilla vodka, or coffee liqueur. Rather than be overly precious about the recipe, Monaghan and Koehlar’s teams encouraged customization, especially during the pandemic. They welcomed the easy extra cash during so many slow months when tourism and French Quarter foot traffic were unreliable.

“They’re getting the frozen Irish Coffee with their own personality put into it,” Koehlar said.

Beyond getting the recipe right, it’s impossible to replicate the experience of getting the drink — a blend that’s as much about the creamy-boozy-coffee concoction as it is about the history and hospitality from the people and places that serve it — at one of the three bars serving it.

“The frozen Irish Coffee is a labor of love. You can’t duplicate it,” Koehlar said. “It’s a part of the walls of the bar, it’s a part of the people. It stands alone — and it’s delicious.”

The post Skip the Hurricane — frozen Irish Coffee is a New Orleans staple worth sipping appeared first on Salon.com.

It can vary, but at its core, the Rocket Fuel is a blended drink made from amaretto liqueur, coconut cream, pineapple juice, and high-proof dark rum, which is, of course, floated over the top. Think of a slightly nutty Piña Colada and you’re close to what a Rocket Fuel tastes like.

For many, Fire Island is synonymous with the majority-queer communities like Cherry Grove and The Pines. A small slice of land just off Long Island’s south shore, Fire Island was recently made notorious by the eponymous movie featuring a group of mostly Asian American men navigating the racial and class dynamics while trying to have fun and get laid.

In reality, Fire Island includes a number of enclaves — the aforementioned Pines and Cherry Grove, as well as decidedly less-queer areas like Saltaire, Kismet, and Ocean Beach. The latter is the claimed home of the Rocket Fuel, and both the drink and the destination were, to me, undiscovered country.

My penchant for exploring local culture through cocktails runs deep. A few years ago, a consulting gig brought me to Singapore where I spent my downtime sampling that nation’s most iconic contribution to the cocktail pantheon, the Singapore Sling. My quest brought me from the birthplace of the drink, the Raffles hotel, to a massive 541-foot observation wheel where my husband and I sipped on surprisingly well-made Singapore Slings in our private cabin, to lowbrow beachside bars serving uninspiring drinks in disposable red cups. As soon as I heard about Fire Island’s Rocket Fuel, I found myself, my husband, my friend, and her dog on the first ferry over.

During the ferry ride, we happened to sit next to a cluster of locals who were loudly — and in classic Long Island accents — anticipating their first Rocket Fuels of the weekend. Naturally, I chatted them up, curious to hear their thoughts on what separated the good ones from the bad. The consensus was that a Rocket Fuel should have a smooth creamy texture, due to proper use of coconut cream and blending technique, and that the rum should pack a strong punch of flavor. They also filled us in on where the best (and worst) Rocket Fuels were to be found.

Located in Ocean Beach, the bar CJ’s claims to be the “home of the Rocket Fuel;” they even went so far as to trademark the phrase in 2019. (Fun fact, though you can trademark a phrase, you cannot trademark cocktail recipes or their names because the US Patent and Trademark Office considers them to be facts and instructions rather than a uniquely and ownable piece of creativity, but that is a topic for another piece entirely.)

CJ’s was the first stop on our journey. We cautiously walked into the nearly-empty bar at 1pm and the bartender immediately had us pegged as tourists. “A round of Rocket Fuels?” she asked. Weary from our long subway, train, and ferry rides, we agreed and watched the bartender go to work. She free-poured the requisite ingredients into a blender, blitzed with ice, and poured into plastic cups. After that, she applied the rum on top and dutifully dropped a neon-red cocktail cherry as the final touch.

I’ll be honest: It was pretty drinkable, but not life-changing. It was smooth enough, with the coconut cream and ice giving the needed consistency, but there was a bit of saccharine sweetness that lingered on the finish.

As we tentatively sipped our drinks, one of the helpful locals who had given us such candid guidance during our ferry ride suddenly burst into the bar to correct herself: The place she had said was the best place to get Rocket Fuels was, in fact, the worst place. She urged us to skip the latter.

But you really can’t fully understand a cocktail (or a beach town) until you see it at its best — and worst. We made it next on our itinerary. The establishment will remain nameless but their rendition of the Rocket Fuel was indeed bad: there was an acrid, bitter note to the drink that I suspect is from substandard amaretto liqueur, or stale coconut cream (or both). To boot, the drinks came ungarnished and the rum float was barely apparent. It was simply an undifferentiated slop of beige. We left before finishing them, weaving our way through a gaggle of regulars who all seemed to be sticking to beer.

Nursing brain freezes, we spilled out onto the concrete-lined boardwalk that makes up much of Ocean Beach and headed to Maguire’s, one of the area’s more upscale dining locations, for a sit-down lunch. While it wasn’t on our helpful local’s list, fueling up with a solid meal felt like a smart move — not to mention, an opportunity to taste another rendition of the local beverage.

At Maguire’s, our Rocket Fuels were served in a true glass, making them orders of magnitude fancier than any other we’d have that day, and featured one curious twist: the rum was at the bottom. I asked our server if we were supposed to use the straw to suck up the rum from the bottom before finishing the rest of the drink. He guffawed and clarified that, no, you’re supposed to mix everything up with the straw, blending the rum throughout. Despite the rum inversion (or maybe because of it), these drinks were solidly enjoyable. The coconut cream was smooth and well-integrated and the drinks were not overly sweet. And the rum made its presence known at every sip.

Still, the inverted rum placement made me wonder: what’s the philosophical justification for the float of high-proof rum? It would make more sense if it were simply mixed in from the jump. Then again, the pour of rum over the drink adds a bit of visual flair and drama to an otherwise unremarkably-hued drink. What’s more, drinks with ice (especially those served in sunny, warm-weather locations) get watered down as the ice melts. The rum float is a countermeasure against the watering-down that happens over time. This clever trick can keep the drink balanced to its last sips.

But perhaps it’s not that deep. The Rocket Fuel is, at its essence, a fun vacation drink. If you want a serious cocktail, order a Vieux Carré or a Bijou at a fancy cocktail bar. The Rocket Fuel is a cocktail with its hair down and sunscreen sloppily slathered on an already-sunburned shoulder. So whether you’re bar-crawling Fire Island, or making them for yourself at home, you could do far worse than the nutty-smooth local celebrity known as the Rocket Fuel. Just remember, a beverage is only as good as the quality of its ingredients.

Recipe: Rocket Fuel

The post Rocket Fuel is Fire Island’s signature cocktail appeared first on Salon.com.

The concept is simple, and only requires two ingredients are required. You grab a box of cake mix and a can of cola, mix them together and voilà — actual cake! 

But I’ve seen enough Ann Reardon videos to know that most viral food hacks lead to inedible messes. More than that, however, I’m highly skeptical of anything that cuts the fat out of an otherwise-decent food such as cake.

Fat is delicious. Fat conducts flavor. So, when I see a recipe for something like “Diet Coke Cake” that swaps the eggs and oil for zero-calorie cola, I tend to be a hard pass. To paraphrase Nigella, low-fat cake isn’t the answer, whatever the question.

What ultimately swayed me, you ask? Another ingredient that typically doesn’t have a lot of fat: booze.

I’m a low-effort drinker. I like wine and beer, and I pretty much only drink cocktails that contain ampersands. Campari & Soda. Gin & Tonic. Rum & Coke. 

Rum & Coke sometimes gets a bad rap, but when I recently stumbled upon a recipe for soda cake that included a generous spike of rum extract, my attention spiked. 

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I’m shocked that this actually works. The resulting cake is crumblier — because duh, it doesn’t have the fat! — but it’s good. It tastes like cake is supposed to taste.

With that added whiff of rum and the vaguely spicy undertone of cola, it’s also got something extra that makes it truly stand out.

It’s subtle, unlike the bracing hit you get from a rum cake, but the flavor is there. I still love eggs and oil, but this is so remarkably flavorful and embarrassingly easy that I’d make it again even without the rum.

For an accidentally vegan experience, you can dust the finished cupcakes with powdered sugar. (Don’t forget to double-check the ingredients on the box of cake mix, as well.) I frost mine . . . because I have to draw the line somewhere.

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Inspired by Betty Crocker and Cupcakes and Cutlery

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