This is an exceedingly refreshing beer cocktail that’s absolutely perfect for summer. I took inspiration from several templates: the Paloma (tequila, lime, grapefruit, sugar, soda), Radlers (beer, grapefruit), the Spaghett (domestic lager, Aperol, lemon), and the Michelada (Mexican lager, salt, lime, spice sometimes tomato juice, Clamato and other ingredients).

This year, my brilliant friend and colleague Kris Kirkland came up with a drink called the Rhinestone Cowboy for the Gigantic spring menu. It consists of mezcal, reposado tequila, Cocchi Rosa, peach liqueur, grapefruit, lime, frozen peach chunks, agave, and basil. I wanted to do something similar with strawberry, so I cut out the mezcal’s smokiness in favor of more vanilla flavor from the tequila and aperitivo liqueur. The results are delicious!

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 is probably the drink that first comes to mind when you think of juleps (unless your brain is stuck in the 19th century like me)! The bourbon-based julep is the one that has survived into the modern age, thanks in no small part to its connection with the Kentucky Derby. For this recipe, I wanted it to be exceedingly elemental. Since we’ve combined the sugar and mint in our mint syrup already, this julep requires but two ingredients (plus a big bouquet of mint, of course). It is simplicity at its finest!

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.

For this month’s theme, I took a look at the food menus at Borscht Belt resorts–drink menus are generally more ephemeral or nonexistent and hard to find–and even though the words “melon delight” didn’t appear, I thought they’d fit right in. This drink’s kind of an oddball as far as its construction, but it works and is exceedingly refreshing.

One of my favorite scenes in Dirty Dancing is when Baby goes to the party the resort staff are having; she enters awkwardly carrying a watermelon and leaves suddenly kind of able to dance?! This simple vodka sour drinks like a Daiquiri, which is exactly what I want when I’ve worked up a sweat dancing to “Cry to Me” by Solomon Burke.

I wanted to demonstrate a fancy application for our Club Pimm’s, and I immediately thought of doing a Pimm’s Cup Royale, i.e. topped with Champagne. I also wanted to integrate some of the traditional fruit and mint that are used in Pimm’s Cups and decided a Cobbler format would be the perfect vehicle. Served over crushed or pebble ice, our Pimm’s Royale is, naturally, garnished with abandon.

Here’s a fun serving suggestion for our homemade Club Pimm’s and our cucumber-lemon shrub: a do-it-yourself Pimm’s bar for your next gathering! I’m happy to say that this concept caters to drinkers and non-drinkers alike, so everyone will feel taken care of at your spring (or summer!) soirée.

I see our Club Pimm’s as a pre-batched cocktail, apéritif, and digestif all in one. It occurred to me that, served in the style of amaro caldo, it would make an excellent, warming beverage for a chilly evening or a rainy Sunday afternoon–both common in April where I live. Adjust the recipe below to suit the size of your serving vessel.

I’ve long dreamt of creating my own homemade Pimm’s. The original Pimm’s No.1 is great, but I wanted to come up with something with pronounced bitterness, more body and oomph. I’m really excited about what I came up with–it is both a complete standalone cocktail and an excellent ingredient in mixed drinks.

Both of these beautiful products are mistelles, which are produced by adding unfermented or partially fermented juice to full-proof spirit (typically in a ratio of 3:1 juice to spirit) and barrel aging it. Pineau des Charentes is produced in the same region as Cognac and combines unfermented grape juice with 1-year-old Cognac. Some are bright and lively while others have earthier, dried-fruit notes. The Pommeau is produced similarly, but in Normandy, an apple-rich coastal region in the northwest. It’s typically 75% unfermented apple juice and 25% Calvados and delivers not only big apple flavor but a wonderful texture as well.

Gaëtan Lassale is one of my oldest friends. We studied in Canterbury, England, together back in the early aughts. Gaëtan grew up in a village in the south of France, eating dinner with his family on the terrace every night in the summer. They ate lots of grilled meat and vegetables, along with ratatouille and aubergines in tomato sauce, which were prepared in the cooler morning hours and served cold in the evening. His grandmother liked to beat the heat by drinking the anise-flavored spirit pastis with chilled water ─ a popular drink in Marseille.

Last year I had the good fortune of connecting with Zac Overman, who sent me a copy of Cocktails a L’Américaine, a compilation of L’Oursin’s house cocktails. The book is full of complex drinks rooted in American mixology that utilize the best of French and alpine spirits, wines, and liqueurs. But because of our August theme, I chose to feature this elegant bitter highball, which showcases the style of French drinking we’re celebrating this month. It’s named after the Corsican cheesemonger who supplies L’Oursin.

My friend Rebekah Peppler has a talent for transporting her readers to France. Her books, Apéritif and À Table give us a window into her life in Paris and highlight traditional French food and beverage. When I was perusing her books for this month’s programming, I noticed that her collection of Kir variations is like a mini road trip through France, from Normandy and Brittany to Burgundy, Paris, Champagne, and beyond. So, grab a bottle of crème de cassis, choose your variation(s), and be transported!

This one’s basically a sparkling sling with a little pop of acidity from the cordial. The combination of cherries and baking spices reminds me of eating cherry cobbler (or pie!) outside toward the end of a long summer’s evening.

The Sangaree is one of the oldest in the tavern drinks canon and its existence long predates the foundation of the United States. Ours makes the most of summer’s bounty and mimics the presentation of the Sangaree’s more famous offspring — the Spanish punch Sangria.

The fix is one of the great pre-Civil-War templates but, for such a great drink, it doesn’t get nearly enough attention. Our version features a split base of genever and rye, both grain-based spirits and two of the megastars of early cocktail culture. Be sure to garnish with abandon.

The smash has evolved over its more than 150-year history. Our version splits the difference between its past as a small, shaken julep and its modern-day life as a muddled affair. I really love this presentation.

This recipe was adapted from Dr. Salmon's Family Dictionary or, Household Companion (1710 edition), which was a popular resource in eighteenth-century American cookery. This cordial was used in our Summer Drinks on the Erie Canal month (July 2021).