Boozehound - Jason Wilson [20]
Will you garnish the drink with a maraschino cherry, a lemon twist, or both? I would suggest making a batch of homemade preserved cherries or using real marasca cherries from Luxardo, rather than relying on the typical, fluorescent, artificial-red orbs.
One last item: A Manhattan is always stirred. That is nonnegotiable.
BLACK MANHATTAN
Serves 1
2 ounces rye whiskey
¾ ounce Averna
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash orange bitters
Preserved or maraschino cherry, for garnish (this page)
Fill a mixing glass two-thirds full with ice. Add the rye whiskey, Averna, and both bitters. Stir vigorously for 30 seconds, then strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the cherry.
Adapted from a recipe of Bourbon & Branch, San Francisco
RED HOOK
Serves 1
2 ounces rye whiskey
½ ounce Punt e Mes
¼ ounce maraschino liqueur, preferably Luxardo
Preserved or maraschino cherry, for garnish (this page)
Fill a mixing glass two-thirds full with ice. Add the rye whiskey, Punt e Mes, and maraschino liqueur. Stir vigorously for 30 seconds, then strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the cherry.
Adapted from a recipe by Enzo Enrico of Milk & Honey, New York
NOTE: If you substitute ½ ounce of yellow Chartreuse for the maraschino liqueur, you will have what is called a Greenpoint. If you substitute ½ ounce of Cynar and ¾ ounce of sweet vermouth for the Punt e Mes and the maraschino liqueur, you’ll have a Little Italy.
BIANCO MANHATTAN
Serves 1
This is the only Manhattan variation in which I’d skip the bitters.
1½ ounces bourbon
1½ ounces bianco vermouth
Lemon peel twist, for garnish
Fill a mixing glass two-thirds full with ice. Add the bourbon and vermouth. Stir vigorously for 30 seconds, then strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the lemon peel twist.
Now, I realize the world seems to cleave into Martini People and Manhattan People. But really, isn’t there enough division in the world already? If you actually consider both cocktails—about the ratios of base spirit to vermouth, the dashes of bitters, the effects of stirring and shaking—there are way more similarities than differences between the two.
So, my having professed my love of Manhattans does not mean I am not also a fan of the martini. I am, and if I’m making one I will use a ratio of three parts of juniper-forward gin, such as Beefeater’s or Tanqueray, to one part Noilly Prat vermouth. I also like a dash of orange bitters and I garnish with a lemon peel twist. I am also a fan of martinis that would have been standard at the turn of the twentieth century, which call for equal parts vermouth and Old Tom gin—a more robust, slightly sweeter gin that has undergone a recent revival after a century of obscurity.
I count Washington, D.C.’s star bartender, Derek Brown, as a friend—even though he was one of the principals behind the Hummingbird to Mars speakeasy that I outed, and thus was resolutely not speaking to me for a while. Since then, he’s moved on to other great bars like the Gibson and the Passenger.
In making his dry martinis, Brown goes for a 1:1 ratio of dry gin to dry vermouth, with a dash of orange bitters and a lemon twist. He is a big proponent of high-end vermouths like Dolin, which is imported from France and based on an 1821 recipe, and Carpano Antica, which may be the original vermouth, created in eighteenth-century Italy. (These are also about three times pricier than Martini & Rossi or Cinzano.)
Brown also uses Old Tom gin in resurrecting a nineteenth-century martini variation called the Martinez—which some theorists believe is the original martini, hailing from Martinez, California. I disagree with this crazy theory, but the Martinez does shed light on the link between martinis and Manhattans. In O. H. Byron’s 1884 Modern Bartenders’ Guide, these are the directions for making a Martinez: “Same as Manhattan, only you substitute gin for whisky.”
While Brown has nailed the cocktail’s historical accuracy,