There are two very similar crème de noyaux-laced recipes for Martini-like drinks that emerged in London and Paris during the 1920s: the Old Etonian and the Fairbank Cocktail. The former features a 1:1 ratio of dry gin to blanc quinquina, while the latter tips the scale in the gin direction and calls for dry vermouth instead of quinquina. Both have a slight almondy flavor and reflect the “wetter” Martini style of the period.

Dating to 1922 and Harry’s ABC of Mixing Cocktails, the original recipe for the Jockey Club is basically like a Brandy Crusta with London dry gin in place of the brandy and crème de noyaux in place of maraschino. I decided to take these ingredients and structure it more like a Sidecar, upping the liqueur and citrus components while still retaining the bitters, which I quite like.

Given how intertwined the histories of cocktails and musical theater have been, it’s no surprise that Gilbert & Sullivan’s most problematic operetta has a cocktail named after it. The Mikado–originally an Improved Brandy Cocktail with crème de noyaux, Curaçao, orgeat, and Angostura bitters–has an ancestor in the Japanese Cocktail (brandy, orgeat, bitters) from 1862. Our version ditches the Curaçao and orgeat in favor of crème de cacao and blanc quinquina; a grapefruit twist bolsters the bitterness.

This Alexander cousin is, by all accounts, original to Bryant’s Cocktail Lounge in Milwaukie, circa the early 1940s. Like the Grasshopper, the Pink Squirrel is traditionally made with two flavorful liqueurs and either cream or ice cream, but our version dries things out and adds a touch of bitterness with brandy, blanc quinquina, and a barspoon of Peychaud’s. I like the dusting of cocoa powder, both aesthetically and for the way it bolsters the crème de cacao.

The Sling and the Toddy are sort of like fraternal twins. Emerging during the eighteenth century, both are essentially sweetened, diluted spirits. Key differences are the dilution level (slings were 1:1, toddies were weaker at 1:2) and garnish. Though both could be served hot or cold, eventually the sling became associated with cold (or at least room temp) preparation, while the toddy was more likely to be served hot. This two-pronged recipe calls on popular spirits of the day, spiced rum-based liqueur, “apple molasses” and raspberry leaf tea. Note that these are true-to-period as far as their dilution—a real (delicious) history lesson for you!

Bang is essentially a warm 50/50 mix of ale and cider, fortified with gin or whiskey, sweetened (traditionally with treacle), and flavored with ginger and spice. It is differentiated from other beer cocktails we’ve studied because it doesn’t contain citrus and it isn’t a flip because it doesn’t call for eggs. Bang is kind of it’s own thing, and it’s just what I want to drink on a cold fall evening.

Ginger was an absolutely essential ingredient in eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century American drinks, a fact borne out by flipping through period household manuals. These contain all manner of gingery “receipts,” from ginger wine to ginger pop, beer, and lemonade; it was also called upon as supporting character in all kinds of recipes. Our spicy ginger syrup provides a perfect base ales, beer, and pops!

With its cider, perry, and sherry, Drink Divine seems more a descendant of wassail than anything else, especially with the bit about putting a “toasted biscuit” into it. (Represented in our recipe by the suggestion of serving with digestive biscuits!) To this simple mixture, I added ginger and allspice dram, but otherwise kept it simple; after all, the original recipe lives up to its name with no help!

The second iteration of the cocktail template known as “Daisy,” this turn-of-the-century version uses grenadine as the primary sweetener and features a variety of spirits as the base, with the most popular choice being gin. I like the idea of making this super citrusy, hence the inclusion of Curaçao, which is a nod to the Daisy 1.0, and three different juices.

One of the only cocktails to be most closely associated with Boston, the Ward Eight is a Whiskey Daisy with orange juice. For our version, I decided to include sherry as part of the base (it appeared in a 1930s Mr. Boston recipe for the drink), use acid-adjusted orange juice, and offer both a long, Daisy version, and a Sour style presentation, as well.

The Jack Rose is a turn-of-the-century cocktail that has that golden age vibe–cool name, cool vibe. And the Pan Am Clipper (basically a Jack Rose with absinthe), a Charles H. Baker, Jr. drink, has the same caché, just a few decades later. There’s a lot of ways to make these cocktails well, but for this version, I cut back the grenadine and added rich simple for improved texture, plus a sneaky small measure of Jamaican rum to add dimension.

The Pink Lady is a drink originating in the 1910s that features a split base of dry gin and apple brandy. Most specs include egg white and some include cream. I based our version on Harry McElhone’s recipe from his ABC of Mixing Cocktails, published in London in 1922, which does include both egg white and cream. Gorgeous color, delicious, and looks so good with a bitters design on top.

One of the most famous tropical drinks of all time, the Piña Colada as we know it emerged in the late 1950s and early '60s in Puerto Rico, though close antecedents had existed before. This is Molly Gajdosik's excellent recipe, which they say was inspired by Garret Richard's spec. It's complicated but so worth it!

The only drink this month that comes from the continental United States, the Rum Runner is a 1970s classic hailing from the Florida Keys. This drink is basically a tropical fruit punch with usual suspects like pineapple, banana, grenadine, and lime, but the wildcard here (and what distinguishes it from other similar drinks) is the berry liqueur (blackberry or [black] raspberry). Some versions are frozen, while others our shaken; ours is flash blended!

I had never heard of this drink before researching this month’s theme, but I really like the combination of coffee and banana in this milkshake-like frozen treat from the Caribbean resorts of the late twentieth century. Layers of different rums, spices, and vanilla go beautifully with the two star flavors.

Drinks traveling under the "Bahama Mama" name have existed since at least the early 1960s, but known formulas date to the 1970s. Usually a combination of rums, lemon or lime, pineapple or and/or orange, grenadine, coconut in some form, and coffee liqueur, the drink in various forms has been popular from Caribbean resorts to chain restaurants for over fifty years.

Though the Sherry Cobbler is far and away the most famous of the genre, the Madeira version is the first known mention of the drink on record. Even more popular than sherry in the eighteenth century, it’s no wonder Madeira made a splash in the new style of iced drinks that emerged in the decades before the Civil War. Stone fruit and ginger compliment the wine and so do the fortifying spirits of brandy and aged rum.

The Sherry Cobbler came on the scene in 1838 and in a matter of years it was known across the United States and was poised to take over the world. A simple mixture of sherry, sugar, and citrus shaken with ice, served over ice with a straw, and garnished with abandon. For this recipe, I stuck to the classic orange and lemon, pineapple syrup (inspired by an 1880s Harry Johnson spec) and a blend of oloroso and PX sherries.

It’s only natural that for a template that centers fortified wine would extend to the third member of the great Iberian triumvirate: port. The first published recipe I can find for a Port Cobbler is in Harry Johnson’s 1882 book. I love ruby or white ports in cobblers and for this recipe I combined tannic ruby port with blueberries and a 1:1 vanilla syrup. I really like currant and cherries spilling out of this drink in a goblet.

Though vermouth became part of the American drinks landscape after the Sherry Cobbler’s heyday, it nevertheless makes a fantastic base for Cobblers. The Torino Cobbler illustrates this point while also reflecting how the Cobbler template has found a home in twenty-first century bar culture, where it sees favorite modern products work their way into recipes.