Summer Quencher: Classic Gin & Tonic

Whenever my mother would visit, the first thing we did was to sit her down and hand her a gin and tonic. You might say it was the family's signature cocktail, since even before I had been introduced to the joys of a good gin, my father had instructed me in the art of making a decent gin and tonic.

To wit: a glass two-thirds full of ice, two fingers of clear-as-an-icy-mountain stream gin poured over said ice, then fill with tonic—whether plain or artisanal, it made no difference. A final touch was a wedge of lime squeezed over the top and dropped into the glass. A brief stir with a cocktail spoon (or even a finger—the alcohol would vanquish any germ that dared intrude) and it was done. No recipe, no finicky measuring of ingredients. Just gin, tonic and lime over ice was all that was required.

Some of the aunties preferred a little less gin, a little more tonic—that was fine. Some uncles may have tipped a splash more gin in the mix; no shame there, either. Ratios of two parts gin to five parts tonic may be touted by rules-bound aficonados, but in our family a perfect gin and tonic was always a personal matter, a ratio determined when the complex variables of mood, external and internal temperature, maybe even altitude (who knows?) came into play.

The one rule that always applied? Sip and enjoy.

Classic Gin and Tonic

Gin
Tonic
Lime wedge

Fill glass 3/4 full of ice. Pour in two fingers of gin. Fill with tonic. Squeeze lime wedge over top and drop it in the glass. Briefly stir to combine.

* * *

Elderflower Gin and Tonic

Gin
Tonic
1 to 1 1/2 cocktail spoons elderflower syrup (equivalent to 1 to 1 1/2 tsp.)
Lime wedge

Fill glass 3/4 full of ice. Pour in two fingers of gin and add elderflower syrup. Fill with tonic. Squeeze lime wedge over top and drop it in the glass. Briefly stir to combine.

A Trip to the Farm with Auntie: Picking Elderflowers

Saturday morning there was a a two-word e-mail from Anthony Boutard at Ayers Creek Farm. Under the subject line "Elders" it read "In bloom." That was enough for me to cancel my plans for the day, gather up my nine-year-old nephew—who was staying with us while his parents had a well-deserved getaway at the coast—and hit the highway.

Elderflower blossoms.

Arriving at the farm, Carol handed over the key to the Gator along with a bucket—my nephew asked if there were seat belts and I hollered, "Nope! Hang on!"—and we bounced along the track Anthony had mowed to a back field. I knew from previous trips that the elderberries were scattered among an eclectic collection of trees on a west-facing slope overlooking the farm's wetland. And sure enough, pretty soon I could see the white clusters of blossoms glowing against the bushes' dark foliage.

Mixed and ready to infuse for three days.

Pulling up to the nearest shrub, the flowery perfume of the blossoms enveloped us, and I set to clipping off the most mature clusters. Trundling through the tall grasses, flitting from shrub to shrub gathering blossoms like bees collecting pollen, the bucket quickly filled and we headed back to the house.

Strain into containers and freeze. Easy!

Back in the city that afternoon, I spent a good two hours pulling the blossoms from the stems, a tedious but necessary job since the dark stems of the flower clusters are toxic, though the tiny green stems attached to each flower aren't a problem. Last year I'd infused vodka with the flowers to make a liqueur similar to St. Germain, the artisanal French product. Since, after a year of aging it had just begun to be drinkable, I decided to make syrup this year, which only takes about three days to be ready to use. (Here's the basic recipe.)

I'd made the simple syrup earlier so it could cool while I picked the flowers from the stems, then I stirred the blossoms into it and covered it with a clean dish towel. Three days later, I strained it through a fine mesh sieve and it was good to go. Dave immediately started trying it out on cocktails, which you'll find below. With almost two gallons of syrup stashed in pint containers in the freezer, I've got plenty to experiment with, so I'll keep you posted as more uses come to light.

Elderflower Gin Spritz

2 oz. elderflower syrup
1 oz. gin
Soda water
Sprig of mint
Strip of lemon zest

Fill Collins cocktail glass two-thirds full of ice. Add elderflower syrup and gin, then top off with soda water. Stir briefly to combine and add mint and lemon zest. For a non-alcoholic but very refreshing drink, simply omit the gin.

* * *

Elderflower Gimlet

2 oz. gin
1 oz. fresh-squeezed lime juice
3/4 oz. elderflower syrup

Fill cocktail shaker with ice, add ingredients, shake very well and strain into martini glass. Garnish with lime wedge.

Introducing the Bloody Monkey, a Winter Citrus Cocktail

A friend of ours is what I think of as a modern-day Renaissance man…an arts administrator in his day job, he's also an accomplished painter, an intrepid carpenter, a pie-baker of the highest order—his lemon meringue is to die for—and he can MacGyver almost anything using sticks, string and duct tape, not necessarily needing all three at the same time. He also shakes a mean cocktail, a common and oh-so-handy trait amongst the men of our crew.

Blood oranges.

His Manhattan and his Corpse Reviver (#2) know no equal. His Monkey Gland, a gin-based cocktail that features orange juice, grenadine and an anise-flavored spirit like absinthe or Pernod, is a masterpiece of subtle, bright, balanced flavors. On a recent foray to a store near his work, he ran into a sale on blood oranges and felt that they might bring a different dimension to his favorite cocktail.

We were lucky enough to be there when he was mixing up some samples, and the result was startling, like the original but more distinct, somewhat like a masterful copy of an original artwork that, in its execution, brings an added dimension to the subject.

Bloody Monkey

Makes one cocktail

1.5 oz. gin

1.5 oz. blood orange juice, strained of pulp

1 tsp. grenadine

1/2 tsp Pernod

Add all ingredients to cocktail shaker. Add ice till shaker is 3/4 full. Shake vigorously for 20-30 seconds. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with slice of blood orange.

Warm Days Call For Cool Gin Cocktails

A gin and tonic, that ever-so-English cocktail, is pretty much the perfect drink on warm days like we're having this week. The botanical bite of the gin, the slightly salty, metallic tang of the tonic with a squeeze of lime over ice is a nice refresher to sip in the back yard and pretend that the rains won't come back until October, that it's July in Portland instead of May.

Another favorite gin cocktail of mine is the gimlet, which, like a proper martini, cannot be taken seriously if it's made with vodka. Legend has it that the gimlet, like the G&T, was created as a way to get English sailors to consume citrus (the lime juice) to ward off scurvy. But really, stories like that, or the debate about how the gimlet got its name—the awl-like tool or Gen. Gimlette?—are just something to occupy the time as you sip and watch the droplets of condensation drip down the side of your glass.

These musings came about because my brother was in San Francisco recently and brought me a gift of gin from a new place in Sebastopol called Spiritworks Distillery. A young couple, American Ashby Marshall and her husband, Englishman Timo Marshall, are buying organic local wheat which they mill, mash, ferment and distill on premises. The result is a floral, botanical gin on the spectrum between Hendrick's and Aviation, which I personally think would make a lovely gimlet.

I may just have one in the back yard this evening and dream of those summer evenings in July.

Gimlet

2 oz. gin
1 oz. fresh-squeezed lime juice
3/4 oz. simple syrup

To make simple syrup, in a small mixing bowl stir 1 c. sugar (or superfine baker's sugar) into 1 c. water until dissolved.

Fill cocktail shaker with ice, add ingredients, shake very well and strain into martini glass. Garnish with lime wedge.

The Highest Compliment

"I wish I'd thought of that" is, in my humble opinion, the highest compliment one can pay to an idea, whether it's a new ad, a new internet service or a garden accessory.

And that's exactly the thought that ran through my mind when I heard about Recession Proof Mixology (RPM), a weekly series promoting the alcoholic inventions of Portland distiller House Spirits. This very simple idea is for Aviation Gin principals (that's Matt Mount, executive distiller, wielding the shaker in the photo at top) to hit various happy hour hot-spots, make cheap and delicious drinks for patrons using their product and then slip away into the night to reappear at another venue the next week.

Not only are they getting their product into potential customers' gullets, they're introducing local bartenders to said products and drawing new crowds to bartenders' stools. Oh, and those new patrons? They're not only dumping their silver into desperate bar-owners' cash registers on a slow night, they're spreading the word about the events to their friends. Freaking brilliant.

I met a friend at the RPM night at Vindalho the other evening, and with her able assistance and the most excellent ministrations of bartendress Shannon, we sampled and sipped our way through the offerings along with several plates of happy hour noshes. Like I said, freaking brilliant.

And thanks to Shannon's light (and sticky) fingers, I came away with a couple of recipes she snuck from behind the bar so you can have your own event. Enjoy!

Pegu Club Cocktail

2 oz. Aviation Gin
3/4 oz. Grand Marnier
5/8 oz. freshly squeezed lime juice
1 dash Angostura bitters
Lime wedge

Fill shaker 2/3 full of ice, add all ingredients except for lime wedge. Shake. Serve up with lime wedge.

Singapore Sling

1 1/2 oz. Aviation Gin
1/2 oz. freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 oz. pineapple juice
1/2 oz. simple syrup
2 dashes Angostura bitters
1 oz. soda
1/2 oz. Benedictine
1/2 oz. Cherry Heering
Lemon wedge
Maraschino cherry

Fill shaker 2/3 full of ice. Add gin, lemon juice, pineapple juice, simple syrup, bitters and soda. Shake, serve up with float of Benedictine and Cherry Heering. Top with lemon wedge, maraschino cherry and pineapple leaf on a pick.

Botticelli

1 1/2 oz. Medoyeff Vodka
3/4 oz. Aperol
1/4 oz. clover honey syrup (equal parts honey and hot water, dissolved)
1 1/2 oz. freshly squeezed grapefruit juice
1 oz. Prosecco

Fill shaker 2/3 full of ice. Add vodka, Aperol, honey syrup and grapefruit juice. Shake, pour into champagne flute and add Prosecco.

You Might Not Be Gimlet-Eyed...

...after one of these, but speaking of a Hendrick's gimlet, here's a recipe that my brother swears he got from the lovely Suzanne herself:

Hendrick's Gimlet

2 oz. Hendrick's Gin
1 oz. fresh squeezed lime juice
3/4 oz. simple syrup

To make simple syrup, in a small pan stir 1 c. sugar into 1 c. water and heat to boiling, stirring occasionally. Cool.

Fill cocktail shaker with ice, add ingredients, shake very well and strain into martini glass. Garnish with lime wedge.

Note: You can use any gin, but Hendrick's just seems to have that perfectly balanced floral-herbal character that works magic here.

Photo from Eat. Drink. Think.