As you know, my historically-driven palate favors the spirits that were popular in 19th-century juleps, i.e. rye, Cognac, and rum. For my own julep recipe, I wanted to combine these three in equal parts with a favorite amaro (Braulio or dell’erborista are particularly good here, but there are many that would work!). I also decided to make the garnish do a little aromatic work, hence the nutmeg and shaved coffee bean, which hit the nose along with the mint upon first sip. The sherry float also contributes a nice aroma if desired!

This recipe, based on one from the 1850s, gives a window into what pre-Civil War juleps looked like after ice had established itself as an essential part of the drink. The mixture of Cognac and rye and the slight presence of Jamaican rum illustrate the julep’s former life as a rum drink and the preference for a brandy base during this period while also foreshadowing the rise of rye juleps that would come after the Civil War (see Dabney Julep from our Pre-Civil War Black Tavern-keepers theme). NB: crushed ice is preferred over pebble here.

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.

The Whiskey Sour with a red wine float (aka a “claret snap”) has gone by various names including the Continental Sour and Southern Sour and, though it likely originated in Chicago, people in 1880s Boston called it the “New-York Sour,” and the name has stuck. It can be served over a large ice cube or up in a chilled coupe; at Gigantic, we favor the former.

Though the Sour template predates the Fix slightly, the latter–a Sour served over crushed ice–was an incredibly popular member of the family in the mid-nineteenth century. Our recipe is diluted with a measure of water, just like the earliest extant Fix and Sour recipes–a nod to their evolution as a single-serving punch.

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.

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 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.

Spirit-forward drinks were stars of the Cocktail Renaissance–and they haven’t strayed much from the formula that was set over 200 years ago. This recipe reflects the resurgence of “old-world” spirits like Cognac and genever as well as the return of rye as a base for cocktails. The bitters in this Old-Fashioned come in the form of amaro, a darling of contemporary American cocktail culture. This drink harkens back to my Al-Pino Old-Fashioned recipe, which I developed in 2018 (original) and 2021 (2.0) respectively.

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.

By the 1860s, it was common practice to add liqueurs–Curaçao and maraschino in the early days–to the Cocktail’s original formula. The term “Fancy Cocktail” typically denotes this addition and the assurance of a lemon twist, too. “Improved Cocktails” typically layer yet more flavor, with absinthe, multiple liqueurs, or a combination of bitters. The recipe below is technically an Improved Cocktail, though omitting the absinthe will knock it down to the “Fancy” level.

I love the classic idea of having nuts, chocolate, and dried fruit with coffee and port after dinner. For this recipe, I leaned on the idea of Sangarees and Cobblers, layering flavors over a tannic base and drying the whole thing out with a half-ounce of rye. Pebble ice and a very Victorian garnish make this one quite festive indeed.

This particular style of milk punch–far milkier than the “clarified” kind–is associated closely with New Orleans, where it transitioned from being served in a large format to individual servings. The traditional base is brandy or bourbon, but our version combines brandy (specifically Cognac) with rye and spikes the whole thing with notes of coffee and chocolate.

This drink is essentially a Vieux Carré with coffee liqueur subbed in for the Bénédictine, but with a touch of absinthe–influenced by both the Sazerac and Cocktail à la Louisiane. The cocktail bears a resemblance to my After-Dinner Manhattan from a few years back, which I designed for a customer who was craving coffee in her nightcap.

The Sazerac is an institution and I love the rye-based versions dearly. But I also like split-base recipes that recognize the Cognac roots of the cocktail (and Cognac-only versions too!). This version of the Sazerac plays up the cocktail’s “Improved” qualities, splitting the aromatic ingredients between four different products, as well as splitting the base.

I knew I wanted to create a hot drink as part of this month’s programming, something incredibly cozy and comforting. I prefer hot toddies that aren’t citrus-heavy and that read like Cocktails. For some reason, I got it into my head that brown sugar and dates would be the perfect pairing with whiskey, amaro, and woodsy Kukicha tea. Happily, I was right.

Sours are a perennial favorite, but there’s something extra special about them during the winter. This version of an amaro sour gives the drinker a choice between alternating sips of the sour and a shot of amaro, or pouring the amaro on top and drinking the two elements together. I channeled Emily Dickinson for the title.

I’m challenging you all to come up with your own house Manhattan; or a new favorite Manhattan; or your fall 2021 Manhattan! Whatever you’re seeking, I hope these guidelines help you find it.

The Manhattan was a disparate, but powerful, force for the first thirty or so years of its existence. In the years just before Prohibition, and through the ‘30s, the recipe begins to solidify its 2:1 ratio, the bitters overwhelmingly Angostura, and the garnish is usually a cherry.

The earliest versions of the Manhattan resemble quite closely the original Cocktail (spirits, sugar, water, bitters) and feature a split base of rye and Italian (sweet) vermouth. This is an excellent example, taken from the second edition of Harry Johnson’s Bartenders’ Manual.