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.

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.

It's no surprise that brandies have often been used in cocktails royale and these two drinks are excellent examples of the form. They have the same basic underlying concept: a champagne cocktail with absinthe and bitters and a bit of brandy (apple for the Deauville, grape for the Casino). I also give the option here of using pineapple syrup, which is a nod to the 1925 drink, Train Bleu, as well as Harry Johnson's Gilded-Age Saratoga spec.

I knew I really wanted to have a gin drink in the mix for our Parisian Cocktails Royale theme, and I found this one in a lesser known book called Recette des Cocktails pour 1929 by E. Milhorat and J. Alimbau. Its combination of London dry gin and cherry liqueur, plus Angostura bitters, makes for a spiced fruit-and-pine base upon which to layer dry, bubbly wine. It’s my favorite this month!

This cocktail takes the Daiquiri’s triumvirate of rum, lime and sugar and adds elements from several sours (including the Sophisticate, which was a major influence on this spec) in the Sloppy Joe’s bar manuals from the ‘30s: crème de cacao, vermouth, and egg white. I absolutely love the way this drink turned out, and it’s extra versatile because there are two garnish options: the perennial bitters design or cold weather-friendly dusting of cocoa powder.

Longtime Club members might remember this one from the beta test month I ran back in August of 2020, wherein this drink was called The Tall Man from Havana. It has since become a Gigantic classic, where it began traveling under the name Havana Moon (named for the Chuck Berry song). The inspiration was the “Sloppy Joe’s,” the bar’s eponymous drink that combined brandy, port, pineapple, grenadine, and Curaçao. A very good example of the pre-tiki tropical genre.

The Mary Pickford appears in the Sloppy Joe’s books–a mix of rum, grenadine, pineapple, and maraschino liqueur. I took that inspiration, subbed crème de cacao in for the maraschino, added lime for acid, and a small measure of Cognac for vanilla and dried fruit notes. Pickford was a movie star, director and producer; I named this after her little sister, Charlotte, who was also an actor.

Ernest Hemingway is associated with a fair few drinks, but this is one that he invented, or at least was the first to publish a recipe for. The simple mix of absinthe and Champagne was featured in a 1935 book of writers’ favorite cocktails called So Red the Nose, or, Breath in the Afternoon. Many modern variations add a little simple syrup, which I like for texture here; bitters and a lemon twist push it pleasantly into Champagne Cocktail territory.

Whiskey Sours with egg white came into favor in the 1920s, almost certainly a product of the vibrant cocktail scene that flourished overseas during Prohibition. It has been called the Boston Sour by some, including, unsurprisingly, the Old Mr. Boston Official Bartender’s Guide, first published in the 1930s. The Rattlesnake, a Savoy Cocktail Book drink, is a Boston Sour with absinthe.

A menu for Othello Pollard’s Boston restaurant from 1803 listed Solid Arguments (foods), Agitations (acidic things), Grievances (spicy things), Superfluities (sweets) and Punishments (alcohol). Under punishments one finds “ice-punch,” a version of the already very entrenched crowd-pleasing drink served on the new craze: ice. Below is our imagined vision of what may have been in that punch.

There are two schools on the history of the Hail-storm and my suspicion is that they have both been true and different points in history. One is that “Hail-storm” is just another term for a Mint Julep, and the other is that the drink was sweetened brandy served over ice. I opted to explore the latter here, making it a nice chilled capital-C Cocktail–a drink that otherwise remained room temp for much longer than contemporaries like the Cobbler, Fix, etc.

John Dabney was so famous for his Mint Juleps that his obituary claimed that he “concocted more mint juleps than any man in the country.” His were rye-based, piled high with crushed ice and garnished with abandon. One description of a Dabney Julep listed mint, a strawberry, cherry, a slice of pineapple, and a pink rose as garnishes.

The Mai Tai didn’t originate in Hawaii, but in the archipelago’s postwar tourism boom, the drink was quickly adopted into its hotel and bar culture. The drink developed into a fruitier, less strictly-defined subgenre unto itself, with orange and pineapple popping up frequently. Our version opts for passionfruit (which I love), layered over my own Banana Mai Tai recipe.

I noticed this description under a Hawaiian Room drink called the Okoolehao Sling–“A zingy sling of gin and juice in a real coconut”–and took it as a prompt. I wanted to create a fruity coconutty flash-blended drink with a gin base and I couldn’t be happier with the results! Though it does appear in tiki drinks, I see coconut as belonging more to the non-tiki tropical canon we’re (mostly) focusing on this month.

The Halekulani–a whiskey-based sour with lemon, orange, pineapple, demerara sugar, grenadine, and bitters–has always intrigued me. Another non-rum tropical drink from Hawaiian hotel history, this one originated at the House Without a Key Lounge at Waikiki’s Halekulani Hotel. I decided to turn this into a stirred, spirit-forward drink–the result is a tropical Improved Cocktail with a nod to all of the original elements, plus our banana mix and a touch of absinthe.

This drink originated at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel in Honolulu and is a prime example of the non-tiki tropical canon. I wanted to improve the recipe while also playing up the pre-WWII orgeat sours that came before it, like the Cameron’s Kick and the Army & Navy. I did so with bitters and an absinthe rinse–the latter touch is reminiscent of the Corpse Reviver No. 2 and the Rattlesnake.

Paul Girault’s original Colombe cocktail, served at Café de La Paix, was a modified Champagne cocktail fortified with Cognac and cherry and orange liqueurs. I’ve adapted it to suit our supply list this month, keeping the Cognac and orange liqueur, using grenadine to hint at the conflation of grenadine and cherry syrup, and “improving” the mixture with absinthe and Angostura bitters. The snifter is a nod to the Cognac base.

When, in the post-Civil War era, Fancy & Improved Cocktails came on the scene followed by the Vermouth Cocktail and Manhattan, people needed a way to order the more elemental Cocktail and the term “Old-Fashioned” was applied to the simple spirits-sugar-water-bitters formula. This version is an attempt to capture what happened to the Cocktail during the twentieth century–we stop short of muddling fruit but cherry syrup and stirring with an expressed orange peel give it a subtly similar effect. Rye and bourbon are both popular bases for this iteration of the drink.