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.

The original Tom Collins was born out of the John Collins, which was named for John Collin, who was the headwaiter of Limmer’s Old House. The house punch was a gin punch topped with soda. This is my imagined take on what the fictitious Alistair Collin might have made as an improvement on his brother’s punch recipe.

The 1870s heralded the arrival of the Tom Collins in the world of American mixology, which itself had entered a new phase, one of codification through cocktail manuals. Though the Collins is commonly thought of as being served over generous amounts of ice, in this period (1875-1919), it’s often served like a Fizz (sans ice)–another drink that made a splash at this time. There’s also a fair amount of lime during this period, whether it’s split with lemon or on its own.

The Tom Collins had yet another life after World War II. That’s like four lives now! The postwar suburbanization of the United States, combined with the lasting effects of Prohibition, severely narrowed the once-massive canon of American drinks–but the Collins remained. In this period, it solidified into the classic form we know today; meanwhile, the John Collins ditched genever in favor of American whiskey. I added the Angostura bitters based on a 1949 recipe from the Esquire Handbook for Hosts.

I first encountered this cocktail when I was assigned a story about the Metexa for Punch. Originally, it called for blanc quinquina, blanco tequila, and Swedish punsch, a liqueur with notes of spice, citrus and tea. I was fascinated by the structure of the drink, which leaned heavily on the fortified wine. For this version, the wine stays in the starring role, but I swapped out the moody, broody Swedish punsch in favor of summery apricot liqueur and added a little spicy habanero shrub and saline for dimension.

The Toreador in the Café Royal book is basically a tequila sour with apricot liqueur, but because we had blanc quinquina on our supply list, I added used it as a lengthener that also adds very subtle bitterness and acidity. I put in a little rich simple syrup for texture and balance, plus a really cool salted “sour patch” sugar rim for fun!

The original Tia Juano is a spirit-forward tequila drink with French vermouth (it’s hard to know whether blanc or dry would have been used) and a touch of Campari. I brought the proportions from the book’s 4:3:1 ratio to a more traditional Negroni structure, adding in a touch of apricot liqueur. It’s a really nice summery Negroni variation that’s kind of a bittersweet stone-fruit gummy.

This tequila sour with orange juice and grenadine sounds a lot like a precursor to the Tequila Sunrise, so I created a Jalisco that is a lime-and-orange tequila sour balanced with rich simple and flavored with a touch of habanero shrub. In place of grenadine, I reached for the Campari that was already on our supply list. It makes for a far more balanced “sink” than grenadine and the visual is stunning!

Named for the main character in The Secret Garden, this iced beauty combines the aesthetics of the Fix and the Bramble in a charming presentation. The malty genever base provides a canvas for the classic English flavors of rhubarb, ginger, and blackberry.

Mary’s cousin Colin believes he will always be ill, but Mary and Dickon bring him and his household back to life! Though this drink is non-alcoholic, I took inspiration from the John & Tom Collins, a family of drinks that sometimes called for genever as a base. Sort of a very complex strawberry-rhubarb lemonade, a nod to lemonades as one of the most important teetotal categories in drinks history.

I was fascinated by this kind-but-rugged character when I was a kid–he knew how to do lots of things and had great clothes! In this Yorkshire-inspired theme, I thought Dickon would be a great inspiration for a shandy! Rhubarb, ginger and lime, fortified with a bit of genever flavor a good English ale beautifully!

As you know, punch is one of my favorite things to make and this one takes inspiration from a couple of nineteenth-century recipes that are lovely fruit medleys! I have always wanted to develop a recipe inspired by Punch à la Romaine for many years and, thus I have taken it as my main source recipe, especially the whipped meringue topping!

The original standard-bearer drink of the California Tropical movement (later known as “tiki). This is the first and best example of the Don the Beachcomber method of splitting each element in a Planter’s Punch (rum, juice, sweetener) between multiple products to create complexity. Imitations sprung up almost immediately and the Zombie helped to spread “tiki” around the world.

Another early Don the Beachcomber drink, the Cobra’s Fang originally called for a blend of pot-stilled Jamaican rum and aged Demerara 151. A close cousin to the original Zombie, at its heart is a combination of lime, orange, passion fruit and falernum, with Angostura bitters and absinthe. At Gigantic, we simplify the base to just an ounce-and-a-half of 151 (reflecting the slightly later Kon-Tiki version) and amp up the spiced notes with cinnamon syrup.

Originally the Demerara Dry Float was built on aged and overproof Demerara rums, maraschino liqueur, passion fruit, lots of lime, a touch of lemon, and demerara syrup. It came in a distinctive glass with the overproof rum in a shot glass on the side. The Mai-Kai also served a version of this cocktail for decades.Gigantic's version is similar to the one served at Latitude 29 in New Orleans, which is done in the style of a Daiquiri.

Though some form of the Skull & Bones appears on a 1940s menu from Don the Beachcomber, the version this recipe is based on dates to the 1960s. It was recounted by Tony Ramos, who had worked at Don the Beachcomber locations in Palm Springs and San Diego, as well as the Luau and the China Trader in Burbank. The Skull & Bones is a wonderfully layered cocktail that’s also striking in presentation–and it’s always a favorite on the Gigantic tiki menu.

The Chocolate Martini is an interesting member of our motley ‘tini crew this month, as it claims roots in the postwar era. The possibly apocryphal story is that Rock Hudson and Elizabeth Taylor invented it on the set of Giant (1956), which is a stunning movie that was filmed mostly in Marfa, Texas. The sweet vodka-based concoction was adopted by the ‘tini craze in the ‘80s and ‘90s and it’s still ordered in bars today by lovers of dessert drinks.