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.

This drink originated at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel in Honolulu and is a prime example of the non-tiki tropical canon. I wanted to improve the recipe while also playing up the pre-WWII orgeat sours that came before it, like the Cameron’s Kick and the Army & Navy. I did so with bitters and an absinthe rinse–the latter touch is reminiscent of the Corpse Reviver No. 2 and the Rattlesnake.

The classic spec for a Margarita started firming up in the late 1930s, though not necessarily going by its now-famous name yet. The drink took hold of America in the 1950s on a grand scale and this classic version with orange liqueur served up reflects the drink’s aesthetic at the time. The sugar-salt rim sprang from my fascination with people who order sugar rims on their Margaritas, but trust me on this one–it works!

A sour that was popular at the Ritz Bar in Paris in the 1920s, the Sidecar traveled across the Atlantic and became a favorite drink in the U.S. during Prohibition. I took the spec developed by Ned King (get it? roi!) at Gigantic, which uses honey syrup in addition to orange liqueur; I decided to embrace the traditional sugar rim garnish, giving it dimension by adding chamomile.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I’m doing a yearlong series for Keap, a maker of fine candles based in Kingston, NY. It’s been a really fun project to work on, especially because they let me design the drinks around the Labors of the Month, a cycle common in medieval art that I’ve long been obsessed with. Here’s the recipe for January 2022, a stirred Cognac and amaro cocktail topped with Champagne.

I’m not a huge fan of the oft recycled origin stories for cocktails, but I have a soft spot for the one behind the Bentley, which inspired this cocktail. The British racing team won Le Mans in 1927 and the celebration at the Savoy included a signature cocktail built on Calvados and Dubonnet rouge. I took the original formula and added dimension with flavors of juniper, tea, citrus, and black pepper.

Apple brandy Manhattans are one of the most delicious (and fall-appropriate) branches of the family tree. We have a great triumvirate here: the dry Star (Harry Johnson, 1900), the sweet Star (George Kappeler, 1895), and the Marconi Wireless (Old Waldorf Astoria Bar Book, 1935).

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.

I have been playing around with a tequila-based version of Philadelphia’s own Clover Club for over a year now and finally landed on this beauty. An unusual sort-of reverse dry shake technique makes the use of jam and desire for perfect egg white texture achievable.