While looking for a way to use this month’s amaro in a shaken drink with roots in the early 20th century, I happened upon Hugo Ensslin’s “Hugo Bracer” from 1917. Originally a mix of apple brandy, lime, Amer Picon and grenadine served in a goblet, ours goes in a yet-more-tropical direction, expressing what I’d call a proto-“tiki” aesthetic.

This is an ode to the imaginary point in time, in this month’s period of interest (1900- 1919) when the prevailing Martini ratio was 2:1. Bright, briny fino or Manzanilla sherry works in perfect harmony with the blanco tequila, all of which is enhanced by a little salinity and citrus.

Tom Bullock features quite a few fizzy cocktails in his book, but I particularly love the Twilight Cocktail, which is an unsweetened mixture of Bourbon, Italian vermouth, lime and seltzer. I take the edge off the sour notes with our cordial, sink the vermouth to the bottom, and insist on Club soda over seltzer here—the hint of salt is just what this drink needs.

Tom Bullock’s Martinez-like Horse Thief Cocktail is perfect as is. What I decided on was to make this a batched version of his original spec, frozen until very cold, and served in frozen, absinthe-spritzed glasses à la Sazerac. I find the result is exceedingly elegant.

An egg-and-cream-laced sour that hews pretty closely to Tom Bullock’s Dream. We’ve swapped in absinthe for the crème de menthe and, with the addition of our cordial, we’ve given the whole thing a Creamsicle, nay Dreamsicle flavor profile.

When I was a young art history student, I ran into a lot of works marked “in the style of” or “a painting after” so and so. Bullock was one of the great figures of the pre- Prohibition era and I felt this naming trope appropriate. He typically served cocktails like this up, a refined presentation we honor here.

This one takes inspiration from several members of the Martini family tree, including the Vesper, the Marguerite and the Tuxedo No. 2. That last one inspired the name—British import known as the dinner jacket was nicknamed after the Tuxedo Club in Westchester and has been known as such ever since.

This Stinger riff more closely resembles the Prince and Brant cocktails, both of which call for bitters to be added to the Stinger’s simple combination of Cognac and crème de menthe. Ours switches out the French brandy in favor of bourbon and adds gentian liqueur and a little salinity, all served over crushed ice, a popular presentation during the postwar period.

The Southside cocktail very likely originated on Long Island in the waning years of the nineteenth century. Simply a Gimlet (or St. Peter) with mint, our version features the unexpected-but-welcome addition of cinnamon to this classic sour.

This is a take on one of the Old-Fashioned, one of the midcentury period’s favorite cocktails. I have this sense that people of the greatest generation were often ordering “their” drink, with notes to the waiter on how sweet or sour, a splash of this or that. Here, I channel that energy (and a little Midwestern style) with this campy, Coca-Cola-laced riff on the original Cocktail.

This drink was created at the Waldorf in honor of an 1894 operetta about a Scottish folk hero. A few years ago, I ordered a Rob Roy from my friend Alex Caffall at Fort Defiance; she said she always made hers “perfect,” i.e. splitting the vermouth between sweet and dry. I’ve preferred them that way ever since.

Mayme Taylor was a famous comedic musical actress in the late nineteenth century. The “Mamie Taylor” cocktail was named for her and was accompanied by a likely apocryphal story about its origins during an 1899 trip she took to Lake Ontario. Regardless, the bones of the drink – Scotch, lime and ginger beer – are great, so here’s our much-more-complex version.

Theater people will know about the superstition around saying the title of a certain Shakespearian tragedy set in Scotland. Scotch gets along very well with honey, ginger and floral flavors. Add a touch of smokiness and this hot toddy riff really shines.

In my research on drinks with links to the theater, I found the “Up in Mabel’s Room” cocktail named for the play (and silent film, and later, talkie) of the same name. A 1919 production staged at the Eltinge 42nd Street Theatre starred Hazel Dawn in the title role. She had left her Mormon family in Utah for the bright lights of Broadway when she was young.

Keeping the equal parts structure of a classic Negroni, this version reduces the pour per ingredient and adds a fourth spirit. The addition of French brandy provides a counterpoint to the gin, which amplifies its pine notes, which are further bolstered by the rosemary-infused Campari.

Combining the traditions of espresso con panna ("with cream") and caffé corretto, this after-dinner drink offers both a digestif effect from the French brandy while also acting as a dessert.

This unusual drink is essentially a reverse Martini that swaps dry vermouth for Riesling, and is then poured over a frozen dome (or cube) of citrus-Campari granita. I named it for a well-turned-out waiter who I envision skiing up to perform a tableside service of the drink for your Alpine après-ski.

The Americano began as a fizzy version of the elemental Milano-Torino, which mixes Campari (from Milan) with sweet vermouth (from Torino, or Turin). It got its name from the American tourists and expats who took to it with enthusiasm, especially during Prohibition.

This punch royale is named for the beachside retreat in Brighton commissioned by George, the spoiled young Prince of Wales. Based on the prince’s preferred drink, Regent’s Punch, this one balances tropical rum with green tea and lemon, all topped off with Champagne.

This punch was loosely inspired by one Charles Dickens described in a letter to a friend back in 1847. The original involves fire and has slightly different ingredients, but I like the vaguely tropical thing this version has going and like to imagine Ebenezer Scrooge drinking it to celebrate his newfound love of Christmas.