This version of the Daiquiri is based on a 1920s recipe (the “Daiquiri No. 3”) from the Floridita Bar in Havana. Beginning the following decade, the Floridita started serving these frappé with the use of electric blenders, which were a new invention at the time. In this recipe, I’m referencing an older frappé style, serving the drink over crushed or pebble ice. It goes without saying, but Ernest Hemingway was endlessly fond of this drink.

As we saw with our Proto-Daiquiri recipe, the trifecta of rum, lime, and sugar is a classic Caribbean combinatioN that long predates the Daiquiri. This version reflects new styles of rum that emerged in the late nineteenth century. To this classic-as-they-come spec, I’ve made a couple of subtle tweaks: the oils from a piece of lime peel add texture, while a pinch of salt provides a counterpoint to the sweet-tart profile of the drink.

This drink is one of my “cocktails that might have been,” i.e. a drink that could have existed even if it doesn’t survive in the historical records. My Proto-Daiquiri seeks to summarize the rum-based punches and drinks that were consumed at sea, many of which used the Caribbean trifecta of rum, lime (or citrus more broadly), and sugar. Eventually, this combination of ingredients gave us the Daiquiri.

The Improved Cocktail was a more complex take on the original formula of spirit, sugar, bitters, and water that first appeared in print in the appendix of Jerry Thomas’s 1876 edition. In 2021, I spent a lot of time with this genre and I produced a template from which I derived recipes for rye, genever, and Spanish brandy iterations. I was pleased to have the opportunity to design one with an aged rum base for this month’s theme.

The Sour is such a part of our culture that it’s hard to digest the fact that it was once a revelation. When it began to rise in popularity around the Civil War period, it was a convenient way to drink something like a Punch in a single serving, without all the fanfare of its more baroque cousin, the Fix. This version, perhaps the most “aperitiki” of our “tropitivo” drinks this month, reads like a pineapple Gimlet that’s ready for the piazza.

The Fizz as a category was popular in the last few decades of the nineteenth century and the first two of the twentieth. This drink is based specifically on the Ramos Gin Fizz, which emerged in the 1880s at the Imperial Cabinet Saloon in New Orleans. Traditionally, it consists of gin, lemon and lime, sugar, orange flower water, cream, egg white, and soda. I saw an opportunity to play with the citrus, and use Aperol and banana liqueur that combine for a fruity profile, almost like creamy strawberry-banana.

Smashes were all the rage from the 1830s through the Civil War period. In July 2021, we delved into its history and the (s)mash-up of nineteenth- and twentieth-century styles that produced the modern Smash. This one features my signature presentation and is laced with amaro and fortified wine, just like my on my Derby Smash (bourbon, rabarbaro, blanc vermouth, honey, mint). The “dry orange” bit in the title refers partially to the dry sherry and partially to a soda flavor by Polar, the pride of Worcester, MA.

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.

The Brainstorm Cocktail was one of several Irish whiskey classics to come out of the early twentieth century. The original recipe combines the Hibernian spirit with dry vermouth and Bénédictine in a template resembling an Improved Cocktail. Our version ditches the boozy herbal liqueur for in favor of crème de banane, and borrows the absinthe spritz and frozen glass presentation from the Sazerac.

Many nineteenth-century recipes for Irish whiskey punch skip the lemon juice and get its citrus notes solely from an oleo saccharum made from the fruit’s peel. In our recipe, lime oils are bolstered by citric acid, and sloe gin contributes additional tartness. Crème de banane, green tea, and the classic garnish of nutmeg complete this semi-tropical take on a Celtic punch.

Nothing could ever top the Fort Defiance Irish Coffee; built like a boozy Americano and sweetened with a basic simple syrup, it’s the pinnacle of the form. However, I was intrigued by the idea of adding some tropical flair to this classic, and I like what the lime and banana achieve here. I named this version after the county where the Shannon Airport is located, an important place in the history of Irish Coffee.

There are several pre-Prohibition era drinks that bear the name “Blackthorn,” “Black Thorn” or “Blackthorne,” hence the numeral after the title. This version takes some of the ingredients from the English (gin and/or sloe gin) and Irish (Irish whiskey) versions and applies an equal parts structure. An optional barspoon of peaty Scotch makes this Manhattan cousin slightly smoky, if that’s your thing.

The Martinez and other early “Martinis,” were a lot like the first Manhattan recipes. Many such recipes called for a 2:1 ratio of vermouth to gin–which you are welcome to try! I went with 1:1 here. The gin, of course, would have been in the sweetened Old Tom style or Holland gin, aka genever. Lemon is traditional, but I went with an orange twist, wrapped around a cherry for visual interest.

Around 1900, a new style of Martini emerged that featured a drier form of gin (specifically Plymouth) and dry vermouth. One example of this style is a variation called the Marguerite. Its ratio is 1:1 in some recipes and 2:1 (gin:vermouth) in others. Orange bitters and anisette also made their way into these specs. This version is a synthesis of extant recipes, with the pleasant addition of blanc vermouth.

As the twentieth century progressed, the Martini became increasingly dry. After Prohibition, the ratio had shifted from 2:1 to 3:1, which I think is the optimal Dry Martini spec. For this particular recipe, I encourage you to find a really beautiful gin to showcase over the standard London Dry options. I love the simplicity of a single olive on a pick here.

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.

This aperitivo cocktail is a hybrid of a Negroni Sbagliato (bitter liqueur, sweet vermouth, prosecco) and a spritz (bitter liqueur, prosecco, soda). Fortified with a small measure of aged gin and winterized with a dose of citrus, it’ll have you embracing January’s chill with flavors of pine, citrus, and apple.