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.

The only thing that’s French about a French Martini is Chambord. The black raspberry liqueur produced in the Loire Valley for centuries. The French Martini combines it with a vodka base and pineapple juice and it originated at Pravda in the mid-nineties, introduced to the world by famous bartender Dale DeGroff. It tastes like grandma candy that features unidentifiable flavors but is actually really delicious.

What can one say about this absolute juggernaut of a drink? Though it was invented by Dick Bradsell in 1990s London, it has had a second life in recent years. There are a great many ways to make one, and countless variations proffered by today’s bartenders, but I designed this one to be almost identical to Bradsell’s original spec, with a couple slight changes. I increased the syrup and opted to use vanilla syrup and I added just a touch of saline to enhance the drink’s flavors.

This drink is the only one of this month’s recipes that was invented after the turn of the twenty-first century. It was invented in 2002 by bartender Douglas Ankrah. Originally called the Maverick Martini after a gentleman’s club Ankrah frequented in Cape Town, the drink combined vanilla vodka, passion fruit liqueur and passionfruit purée, and vanilla syrup, with a little glass of prosecco on the side. Since its inception, it has remained very popular in the U.K. and beyond.

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 delicious little number takes inspiration from several classics, including a variety of brandy sours and punches and, of course, the New-York Sour. A base of brandy, lemon, cacao, and vanilla gets topped off with a classic "claret snap" for a tannic note that fits really well with the dried fruit and chocolate in the drink.

For this flip, I took post-Civil War technique and style and applied it to pre-Civil War ingredients. As we saw with our At Loggerheads a few years back, flips in the eighteenth century were ale-based and served hot. But the Gilded Age brought ice and shakers into the equation and, though beer-based versions did exist (especially with porter), fortified wine as well as spirits took over as the most common base. I love the flavor of this drink, the walnut adds this really pleasant bitterness to the whole thing; it kind of tastes like melted pumpkin ice cream with walnuts on top.

This classic cocktail entered the cocktail renaissance canon via Ted Saucier’s 1951 book Bottoms Up, where the recipe is credited to the Detroit Athletic Club and an Irish-born vaudeville star called Frank Fogarty. It likely came into being around 1915. The drink’s equal-parts construction balances out the strong flavors of  juniper-heavy London dry gin, herbaceous green Chartreuse, and rich maraschino.

This drink is both a relic of its original period (the years just before Prohibition) as well as of the cocktail revival of the aughts. It became an emblem of a certain kind of “golden-age” cocktail and people are still intrigued by its name and esoteric ingredients. It’s a little bit too floral for my palate these days, but it’s a great drink to have up your sleeve for friends who enjoy flowery gin drinks.

With a name like this, it’s no wonder this cocktail has survived into the modern age; originally “corpse reviver” was a catch-all term for a hangover cure, but none has been more famous than this version. The other reason it’s survived is that it appears in the Savoy Cocktail Book (1930), one of the most popular cocktail guides of the twentieth century. Its equal-parts structure, bright ingredients, and absinthe rinse make this a perennially delightful sour.

Certainly the least well-known of our drinks this month, but it’s my favorite! This one was first published in the Café Royal Cocktail Book (1937) in London. The name comes from a luxury train line that ran from New York to Chicago. My little tweak to this one is that I suggest nutmeg as a garnish (at least in fall and winter); chocolate and nutmeg are so great together, especially with the juniper and the spiced notes from the aromatized wine.

This obscure gem from the Savoy Cocktail Book (1930) illustrates the power of absinthe as the sole base for a sour. Because of the strength of the base spirit, the ratios of this drink are all topsy-turvy in a most intriguing way–two parts lemon to one part each absinthe and simple syrup; a touch of saline is advised. It sits on the edge of being too tart, but this sour’s complex herbaceous undertones keep you coming back for another sip until, suddenly, you’ve finished it.

This drink name has encompassed a wide range of specs since the turn of the twentieth century, but once it settled in New Orleans, it became the drink that’s still made there today. The now-classic version has aspects of other New Orleans classics, like the Grasshopper and the Ramos Gin Fizz, and its unique combination of ingredients make it sort of like a minty eggnog. The dessert-like drink is said to be the ideal way to begin your Mardi Gras morning.

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.

I wanted to do a fizz for this month (I do so love a fizz!), but all the combos I tried fell flat! Instead, I decided to eliminate the soda element and incorporate a whole egg instead of just egg white, making it a classic nineteenth-century flip. The resulting cocktail, with smoky, spiced, and tropical flavors is an excellent dessert drink befitting any cold-weather gathering.

I developed this drink for Gigantic’s Fall 2023 menu; the original recipe called for genever but, as I’ve often likened the Dutch spirit’s gentle maltiness to that of Irish whiskey, this month’s supply list set the stage for an easy substitution. This sour’s blend of citrus, banana, spices, and honey bolstering the malty and peaty spirits makes for a delightful ode to the birthplace of Drambuie.

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.

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.