Lost & Found: The Seelbach Cocktail

Every hotel, bar, or restaurant used to have a signature drink. In fact, for a few hundred years from the peak of punch through the heyday of plain and fancy drinks in the mid 19th century, all alcoholic beverages were named after either their ingredients or the establishment that created them. Some famous examples include the Manhattan, Brooklyn, Clover Club, Pegu Club, and Sazerac. One of the many sad consequences of U.S. Prohibition was that any business relying on selling alcohol had to be shut down, and often with it went an interesting history and a signature drink.

The Seelbach Hotel in Louisville, Kentucky, is a great example. Built in 1905 by the Seelbach brothers, this hotel was an attempt to recreate the beauty and decadence of western Europe. Located within was The Rathskeller, a 400-seat capacity nightspot whose menu claimed that “every essential, artistic detail is a reproduction of the underground drinking and council hall of one of the famous castles on the Rhine.” Most impressively, this was one of the very first air-conditioned rooms ever built, requiring forty tons of steam-produced refrigeration every twenty-four hours to maintain at least a ten degree cooler temperature than the hot Kentucky air outside.

Theatre-goers and socialites spent evenings here, likely enjoying the signature cocktail, The Seelbach – a light, spicy mixture of bourbon, Cointreau, Champagne, and a hefty dose of both Angostura and Peychaud’s bitters. Though unconfirmed (as most of these stories are), the tale of its inception involves a bartender opening a foaming bottle of Champagne and grabbing a nearby customer’s Manhattan to catch the spill. This patron enjoyed the combination and a new drink was born.

Most famously, the Seelbach Hotel was frequented by F. Scott Fitzgerald, who at the time was writing “The Great Gatsby,” and supposedly based some of the novel on his experience there. The female lead, Daisy Buchanan, was from Louisville, so perhaps he found inspiration in a particular guest? Perhaps for Gatsby as well?

Once the 18th Amendment was passed, the bars inside were closed and The Rathskeller became simply an extended dining room. Part of this space was even leased to Walgreen Drugs. The Seelbach Cocktail, now illegal, was forgotten.

In the 1930’s a new bar was opened that offered its own theatre and musical entertainment, and though many ownership and design changes have occurred over the last eighty years, the Seelbach still stands and parts of the original Rathskeller designs still remain. The story goes that in 1995 when ownership was undergoing another renovation of the hotel, a manager discovered (I like to think it was physically found in the basement) a recipe for the Seelbach Cocktail and again made it the house drink, though the specifics were guarded. Thanks to Gary Regan, who convinced the Seelbach Hotel to allow the recipe to be published in his “New Classic Cocktails” book, we can all share in the drink’s history and unique flavour.

At Pourhouse, we’ve altered the recipe slightly to suit our tastes, so come try our version and tip your glass to Fitzgerald, Gatsby, forgotten cocktails, and air conditioning.

[originally published on pourhousevancouver.com/blog]

Five Classic Cocktails for a Distinguished Gentleman

While times are changing for the better, most men drink cheap beer, highballs, or sugar-filled shots. Thanks to the growing classic cocktail trends in today's large city bars, the growing number of small distilleries and breweries, and television shows like Mad Men and Boardwalk Empire, more and more are becoming interested in better quality products and more traditional drinks. The mid to late 19th century was the Golden Age of mixed drinks, led by the 'grandfather of mixology,' Jerry Thomas, who in 1862 was the first to publish an all-encompassing tome of bartending. Many great drinks and products were lost during Prohibition, and while the practice of drinking well did continue to a lesser extent from the 1930's until the 1960's, it is for the most part the great classics from the Golden Age that survive today. A distinguished gentleman appreciates these drinks for their taste and history, and cares for the manner in which they are made. This sophisticated man knows there is only one Martini, that anything called a "cocktail" must contain bitters, and that an Old-Fashioned must never contain juice or soda. Below are five classic drinks for this distinguished gentleman.

(As per the previous posts on Classic Cocktails for a Fancy Lady, drink-preference should not be gender specific, and the purpose of this post is historical. Furthermore, should any lady deem herself too dangerous to be fancy, any of the following make excellent substitutes as cocktails for a femme fatale.)

Old-Fashioned
This is the drink with the most variations, the source of so many debates, the biggest growing popularity, yet one of the most misunderstood. Thanks to Donald Draper on TV's Mad Men (who, by the way, makes a terrible Old-Fashioned), this drink is now ordered by droves of non-experienced drinkers. This is an exciting trend. The disappointing news is that practices from the dark ages of drinking (the 1970's to the 1990's) are still alive today, and the drink is often ruined or just unrecognizable. It is a finicky drink to maintain the balance of so few ingredients, and of course most everyone prefers his or hers a slightly different way. The drink’s history is a confusing one because it refers to a style and not one particular drink. In the early to mid 19th century, The Sling was a popular mixed drink that contained only spirit, sugar, water, and perhaps a grate of nutmeg. At some point bitters was added to the mix, birthing the “Bittered Sling,” which came be known as the “Cock-tail.” Faster than you can mix one up, variations were born. Fruits here and liqueurs there muddled up the original, and purists and old-farts began to request their Cock-tails the “old-fashioned way.” Over time this simply became an “Old-Fashioned.” Anything beyond the Bittered Sling recipe is not an Old-Fashioned, though very small embellishments included in Jerry Thomas’ variations (namely orange or lemon oil) are welcomed. The recipe below is from “Modern American Drinks” by George Kappeler in 1895, and is the best way to make a proper Old-Fashioned. (Note the absence of juice, muddling, soda, or any liqueur.) The type of bitters and spirit is up to the drinker and trying new combinations makes for a multitude of exciting options (try brandy and Peychaud’s, tequila and chocolate, or gin and Boker’s for example).

2oz whiskey
2 dashes Angostura bitters
1/2tsp of sugar (or one small sugar cube)
1 piece of lemon peel

Dissolve the sugar with a little water in a whiskey-glass [Old-Fashioned or rocks glass]; add bitters, a small piece ice, a piece lemon-peel, and whiskey. Mix with a small barspoon and serve.

"A small piece ice" can be substituted today with a few nice cubes (don't ruin the drink with small, watery ones), and the lemon peel can be swapped for orange if you please. Express the oil of the peel over top of the drink for best effect. A common practice is to soak the sugar in both water and bitters before adding ice and spirit.

Sazerac
Ordering this drink more than five years ago would have gotten you strange looks. Because of its history and fantastic taste, it was and is an obscure favourite among cocktail enthusiasts. Many claims are made to it being the oldest cocktail, but this is not true. We’ve tracked its inception to 1850's New Orleans in a slightly different form than we most often enjoy now. The Sazerac is the product of two smart men: one who imported the Sazerac de Forge et Fils, and the other who changed the name of his bar to "Sazerac House," where the cocktail was first made and became popular, thus naming it the "Sazerac Cocktail." Peychaud's bitters was literally made down the street, so it was the obvious choice. The first printed recipe in 1908 called for “good whiskey” (which in New Orleans means straight rye) at which point Cognac had become less abundant. The drink's flavour is dry and spicy, and the union of Peychaud's, absinthe, and rye (or Cognac for that matter) is something truly special. Again, the process of making the drink is important for both flavour and anticipation, so follow it closely. Use a good quality spirit, preferably a higher-proof and spicy rye, absinthe if you can, raw sugar, and lastly you can substitute Bitter Truth Creole Bitters for Peychaud's (but go with one fewer dash as it's more potent).

2 oz straight rye whiskey [or Cognac]
1 sugar cube
2-3 dashes Peychaud's bitters
Absinthe
Lemon peel

Fill an Old-Fashioned or Sazerac glass with cracked ice. Put the sugar in a mixing container, add the bitters and a little water and let dissolve. Add the whiskey, fill with ice, and stir. Dump the ice out of the glass and pour in a little absinthe, and roll around to coat the glass before discarding. Strain the whiskey mixture into the glass, then express the oil from the lemon peel over top and drop it into the glass.

Manhattan
This one is the probably the most famous and enduring of all classics, enjoyed by many in literature and film, particularly gentlemen, but also by bad-news ladies like Marilyn Monroe in “Some Like It Hot.” Vermouth entered the mixed drink equation sometime in the 1870's, drastically changing things for generations to come. Suddenly cocktails weren't just spirits with small additions of liqueurs, bitters, sugars, and sometimes fruits. Now spirits shared the spotlight or even had a supporting role in many popular drinks. Arguably the first of these was the Manhattan, made at the Manhattan Club in, yes, Manhattan. Its first mention was in the 1870’s, its first recipe in 1884, and the closest recipe to what we use today appeared in 1892. Early incarnations included maraschino, absinthe, gum syrup, and no whiskey specification, but the drink simplified over time. The type of whiskey and bitters are still optional, and like the Old-Fashioned make for very different drinks. A higher-proof whiskey mixes better, with rye being drier and spicier and bourbon being fuller and sweeter. Always stir, never shake, serve up and not on the rocks, and the garnish is always optional.

2oz whiskey
1oz sweet vermouth
2-3 dashes bitters

Add ingredients to a mixing glass, add ice, stir, and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a real cherry, or a citrus peel (optional).

Martini
The Manhattan-style cocktail at times contained gin instead of whiskey, which became known as the Martini - the same drink save the spirit choice. The origins of the Martini are some of the most disputed of them all, numerous ones appearing around the same time, but the concept remained the same. The Turf Club is the simplest, while The Fourth Degree contained absinthe, and The Martinez contained maraschino and twice the amount of vermouth. The later and most popular incarnation, The Dry Martini, made an important change in recipe: swapping Italian vermouth for French. As time wore on after Prohibition, Martinis got drier and drier, reducing the vermouth down to smaller and smaller amounts. In the later half of the 20th century good-quality vermouths were harder to come by and the lack of knowledgeable bartenders left it sitting on shelves instead of fresh and in the fridge, and the vermouth became essentially non-existent. Furthermore, James Bond confused many by calling his Kangaroo Cocktail a "Vodka Martini" (which even confused the Bond girl). A classic gentleman does not drink a Martini with vodka, though will sometimes drink it dry. However, a Martini without dry vermouth or bitters is not a Martini. Below is the classic 1890's version, in which you can reduce the amount of vermouth and swap the orange peel for a lemon if you please. The olive is a later addition, and can mask the flavours of the drink, but to each his own. Be sure to use fresh vermouth - it is wine and should be kept in the fridge and will spoil and then ruin your drink. Choose a good gin and a great vermouth.

2oz gin (Old Tom traditionally, but London Dry works just fine)
1oz dry vermouth
1 dash orange bitters

Stir ingredients with ice and strain into a cocktail coupe. Squeeze a piece of orange peel over top.

Negroni
In 1860’s Italy, Gaspare Campari invented the most famous of amari, aptly named Campari, before settling down and opening a cafe. The signature drink there was the “Milano Torino,” combining Campari from Milan and Cinzano vermouth from Turin then topped with soda. The early 20th century brought an influx of American tourists, among whom the drink found popularity and was renamed the “Americano.” (It found popularity elsewhere too, even being the first drink James Bond ever ordered). In 1919, Count Camillo Negroni asked the bartender, Fosco Scarselli, at the Caffe Casoni for a stronger version of this drink by swapping the soda with gin. This drink subsequently became wildly popular in Europe. In 1947, iconic director/actor Orson Welles was working on his film "Cagliostro" in Rome, and spoke to reporters about his new favourite drink, The Negroni, saying "the bitters are excellent for your liver, the gin is bad for you - they balance each other." It wasn't long before the drink became popular in the U.S., though in the more American style it was enjoyed up rather than on the rocks. The three ingredients balance and accent each other beautifully, and as such the Negroni structure has been used for numerous variations and new concepts. The most notable - drinks also worthy of a distinguished gentleman - are the Boulevardier, which replaces the gin with bourbon, and the Old Pal, which switches gin for straight rye and Italian vermouth for French. While Campari is very bitter and therefore an acquired taste, it's a worthwhile one, and the Negroni is a drink bound to be in your life for good.

1oz London Dry gin
1oz Italian vermouth
1oz Campari

Add ingredients together and stir with ice. Strain over rocks in an old-fashioned glass. Garnish with a slice of orange a piece of lemon peel.



[Photo: Cary Grant]

The Black And Tan

I'd like to do a (hopefully) briefer post today. I was flipping through my notebook full of drink recipes I scribble down when something catches my fancy and was reminded of one of the more refreshing rye drinks I've had - The Black and Tan. I found this on Jamie Boudreau's site from a few years ago when it was served as part of a lecture at the Tales of the Cocktail festival in 2007. The name rang a bell in my head and I suddenly remembered a Duke Ellington piece by the name "Black and Tan Fantasy" from 1927. I figure, while the time periods may not match up, the names do and that's good enough for me.

So this cocktail was introduced by Allen Katz at the Rye Whiskey presentation, who claims it was from the Baltimore Country Club in 1898. Now, I may be wrong here, but the Baltimore Country Club was created in 1898, and due the wording of every mention of this cocktail I can find, it seems that Katz was claiming that the drink comes from the same time. This seems a little unlikely to me, as ginger beer was just gaining popularity as a drink by itself in the late 19th century, and mixing it with anything else wouldn't have come until later. So I took a look for any old ginger beer mixed drinks. The oldest I could find with specifically ginger beer is the Moscow Mule from the 1950's (though there is the Horse's Neck, or Kentucky Gentleman, which dates back to the 1890's, but uses just liquor, ginger ALE, and a lemon twist), but that brought me to finding out about the "mule" or "buck" style of drink. The Buck is ginger beer or ale, mixed with liquor and citrus juice, but I can't find any definitive information on how old it is. If anyone has details, please leave a comment!
As for the style of the drink itself, combining whiskey with citrus and sugar, then topping it with ice and soda and garnishing with fresh fruit was a very common drink in the 19th century, with subtle variations leading to numerous names - the Fizz and the Daisy, for example - and numerous others without the carbonated water, such as the Cobbler, Fix, Smash, and so on. There were also Champagne Cobblers, combining fruit, sugar, citrus, and bubbly, and Cobblers that required the fruit to be muddled and not just decoration, so from different directions a Black and Tan could have been plausible for the time. Having said all of this, I still have seen no proof or direct written account that claims the Black and Tan comes from 1898, only that it comes from the Baltimore Country Club.

Regardless, it's delicious and refreshing and very pretty. I always include this disclaimer for any Canadian readers - "rye" means whiskey made specifically from at least 51% rye grain. It does not just mean "Canadian whisky," and it's very sad and frustrating that the term has this second meaning because it leads to confusion and misinformation. This drink should be made with American straight rye whiskey, such as Rittenhouse 100 or Sazerac, and it just won't taste right if you try to use Canadian or bourbon.

Another disclaimer - this cocktail is NOT to be confused with another of the same name that requires you just to mix a light and dark beer. I'm not a beer drinker, but I think that's kind of weird.

BLACK & TAN

2 oz American rye whiskey
¼ oz simple syrup
¼ oz fresh lime juice
5 blackberries
8 mint leaves
Ginger Beer

In a mixing glass, muddle blackberries with simple syrup, lime and mint.
Add Sazerac rye and shake vigorously over ice.
Strain into a Collins glass filled with ice, then top with ginger beer.
Garnish with two fresh blackberries on a cocktail pick.


Duke Ellington, in case you are unfamiliar, is widely considered one of, if not the greatest American composer of all time. He wrote over 1000 compositions, has been decorated with every kind of award, tribute, and induction that can be bestowed upon him both while he was alive and posthumously. He scored for everything, not just big bands, and was integral to the evolution of jazz, helping to make it considered more of an art than just young-people-or-black-people-party-music, and he was also integral to the paradigm shift of America's view towards "coloured" people. His compositions were dynamic, intricate, and beautiful, and ranged from dance-floor romps to delicate ballads. He also incorporated African culture into his performances and music in the earlier years, in part leading to the misinformed and offensive term "jungle music." In 1927, Ellington wrote a piece called "Black and Tan Fantasy," which was later adapted into a feature film in 1929 by the same name as a showcase for the Harlem Renaissance Movement in art and music. Due to racial issues in the south, a lot of African American/black families moved to the northern cities to build better lives and get better jobs, particularly after World War I, and a mecca for this migration was New York City, namely Harlem. This became a centre for artistic culture through the 1920's and 1930's (at the time named the "New Negro Movement"), and really became a driving force behind the Civil Rights Movement that was to come after the 1940's. Jazz was a huge part of this scene, and it was innovators like Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington who, as I have mentioned more than once, shaped the genre into what it would become.

"Black and Tan Fantasy" is a typical blues progression, one that served as a framework for the majority of early jazz, so is still a fitting piece if we want to come back to the year 1898. It is a sad and angry piece of music, filled with aggression but also despair and apathy of sorts, which would be very fitting for the racial situations of the time. It is ironic to pair a cocktail from a white country club in Maryland with a Harlem Renaissance piece of music, and also ironic that they share the same name (again making me wonder exactly when this cocktail showed up), but that's the fun of doing this sort of thing.

Enjoy your delicious and refreshing spring/summer drink, The Black and Tan, perhaps with a little of the Duke - though perhaps put something a little more upbeat on afterwards, like "It Don't Mean A Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing," or "Take The 'A' Train."

[[ Photography by sloshed.hyperkinetic.org (cocktail) ]]

The Leap Year Cocktail

So it's close to midnight and therefore kind of late for this post, but I'll do it anyway.

It's February 29th, 2012. A leap year. So, obviously, what is a more fitting cocktail than the Leap Year Cocktail? The great thing about this one is that it's a classic from one of the greatest bartenders of all time, Mr. Harry Craddock of the Savoy Hotel in London. The great thing about discussing any Craddock cocktail is that I get to share an Al Bowlly song, since they both worked at the Savoy Hotel at the same time, and Bowlly is one of my favourite singers ever.
(You can read a little more about Craddock and Al Bowlly here in the post about the Corpse Reviver #2).

One of the exciting things about the Leap Year is that we can actually pinpoint exactly when and by whom it was created. Craddock, while running the bar at the Savoy after fleeing from Prohibition America, created the drink specifically for the leap year party at the Savoy on February 29th, 1928. This is also the year that Bowlly first made his appearances at the Savoy with Fred Elizalde, before moving on to work with Ray Noble and record the most famous songs of his career (while also playing at the same hotel).

So first, let's find out how to make the cocktail...

The Leap Year

2oz gin
1/2oz Grand Marnier (other orange liqueurs will do)
1/2oz sweet vermouth
dash lemon juice (measuring about a barspoon-full is a good way to go)

Combine ingredients in a mixing glass, add ice, stir, strain into a coupe, and garnish with a lemon twist.

So here is a cocktail containing juice that you won't be shaking. (Previously I've mentioned a general rule that you should only shake cocktails that contain juice, cream, or egg, and everything else should be stirred). Because the amount of juice is so small, there isn't as much force required to fully mix the ingredients, and stirring works just fine. If you want to shake it, feel free, but it's not really necessary.

The Music
Al Bowlly we've already discussed on my post about the Corpse Reviver #2, so let's just talk about Elizalde. As a young man he bounced between Europe and America, between law school and leading jazz bands. By 1927, he had truly chosen music as his calling, and led a new band in England on some famous late 20's recordings, and performing regularly at the Savoy Hotel. He openly criticized European jazz for being too classical-minded, and tried to adopt more American rhythms and styles into his band (fitting, what with jazz being American and all). Savoy Hotel crowds were famously split in their reception of his band, with the younger crowds loving the dirty, rhythmic, and American big band sound, and the older crowds were offended. By 1929, the BBC radio chose not to renew his contract because of this mixed response, and further poor receptions marked the end of the band. He thereafter composed mostly classical music, and worked with such famous composers as Wagner and Ravel, and after a fairly long life (for the time), retired and passed on. While his jazz years were very short-lived, they were integral to modern European music as he pushed for real jazz, and therefore the most important modern movements in music, to become a mainstay.

For the Leap Year Cocktail, please enjoy this collaboration between Fred Elizalde and Al Bowlly in 1928, when they were both working at the Savoy Hotel in London while Harry Craddock was creating and serving this particular cocktail. (Note how much higher and thinner Bowlly's voice is as it's just at the beginning of his professional recording career).

[ Photography by Eat Magazine from Shawn Soole at Clive's Classic Lounge in Victoria ]

The Southside Cocktail

So here's a fun one. This is a great drink to get you into gin if you have had a negative experience, and it has a very possibly interesting history.
Why "possibly"?
Because there are three completely different stories on where this drink came from, and one of them is very plausible but boring, one is also plausible but still not super interesting, and one is exciting but basically disproved. I'm going to tell you all three, but I'm sticking with the fun history for the general theme today: 1920's Chicago.

The History of the Cocktail
So first, here is the semi-interesting story:
The drink was created in New York City at the 21 Club, which was originally a speakeasy during Prohibition named "Jack and Charlie's" after its two Austrian owners. The location moved around a fair bit before settling on 21 West 52nd Street, leading to the eventual name-change. Jack and Charlie rigged up a system of hiding the then-illegal alcohol with a series of levers that would drop all of the bottles down a chute into the sewers in the alley, and stored all the wine in a cellar that was only accessible through the adjacent building. Such was the alcohol culture of the time.

The second story, which is basically confirmed as the origin of the drink, is that it was invented at the Southside Sportsmen's Club on Long Island, New York. For years rich men from NYC came to Long Island to fish and hunt, and they would stay at an inn/tavern known for its Mint Juleps. This reputation, unfortunately for the rich folks, meant it started to get crowded so in 1866 they bought the place and turned it into the aforementioned club. The famous Mint Juleps eventually evolved into other mint drinks and the Southside was born. Over time, country clubs started making "Southside" mixes, letting mint steep for days in a sugar and lemon juice, then using this mix with a spirit and soda. Further evolutions have changed the original gin to vodka or even rum (which makes the drink basically a Mojito). Sadly, the Southside Sportsmen's Club doesn't exist anymore, but its legacy lives on in country clubs everywhere in the form of the Southside cocktail.

The last story takes place in Chicago. During Prohibition times, the city was very much a gangland split between the north and the south. The gangs of the north cornered the market of high quality spirits by smuggling liquor across the border from Canada. This left the south side gang, the Saltis-McErlane gang, with no choice but to sell locally made spirits - literally bathtub liquor. This booze tasted awful and made people sick, and the bartenders on the south side started using sugar, citrus, and even mint to mask the terrible flavour and imperfections. The gang's leader, Frankie McErlane, one of the two main mobsters on the south side, killed at least fifteen people during the bootlegging wars in Prohibition Chicago, and was the first man to use the Tommy gun.
This exciting story is unfortunately disproven from what I've read, with stories of the south side gangsters forcing bars by gunpoint to sell their beer and nothing else. And of course, then there's the question of how a Chicago speakeasy cockail found its way into lush country clubs of upstate New York. But it's way more fun to sip a Southside and think about Capone, McErlane, and all the bad boys of Chicago fighting on the streets while you watch some of music's greatest icons play on stage at the city's famous jazz clubs than it is to envision rich, old, white folks sipping mint-fizzes in between tennis sets.

The "proper" way to serve this drink in Long Island is with soda, but I much prefer the more sophisticated straight-up version. There are versions of this drink listing either lemon or lime as well, and everywhere I've looked I've seen a different recipe. I will go with Gary Regan's recipes (never a bad idea) from his book "The Joy of Mixology," one being straight up and the other being a fizz:

Southside Cocktail
4 lemon wedges
2-3 teaspoons sugar
4-5 fresh mint leaves
2.5oz gin

Muddle the lemon, sugar, and mint in a shaker, add gin and ice, shake, strain into a cocktail glass and garnish with a sprig of mint.

Southside Fizz
4 lemon wedges
2-3 teaspoons sugar
6-8 fresh mint leaves
2.5oz gin
Dash of aromatic bitters - optional

Muddle lemon, sugar, and mint in a shaker. Add gin and ice, shake, strain into a collins glass over ice, top with soda, and garnish with a sprig of mint.

(You can substitute the lemon wedges for just fresh juice. I'd go for a 2:1 or 3:1 gin:lemon juice. You can also substitute the solid sugar for about 3/4oz of simple syrup, depending on your taste. Or mix it up even more and try making it with lime, which just makes it a Mojito with gin. So many options!)

The History of the Time and Place
Prohibition was implemented in 1919, so it was illegal in the 1920's to distribute or manufacture alcohol in the U.S.. Racism was rampant, there was a general fear of foreigners (partially because Prohibition played on fears by linking immigrants - particularly Europeans - to the consumption of alcohol), but women were able to vote and join the workforce as of 1920. Of course, they got paid less, didn't have many opportunities, and were under constant pressure to maintan outdated ideals. This lead to a female rebellion culture called "Flappers." These girls cut their hair short, hiked up their skirts, and partied like crazy in speakeasy's around the country.
Art deco, modernism, surrealism, abstract expressionism, dadaism, and surrealism were popular art forms at the time, and authors like R.S. Eliot, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Ernest Hemingway were publishing. American baseball was popular, Harry Houdini was performing his great escapes, and the Miss America padgent had just begun. 
1920's America was the Golden Age of organized crime, which was previously limited to extortion, prostitution, rackets, and the like, but now the mob was able to use Prohibition to control one of the most lucrative businesses ever. Bootlegging really funded the mob and made them into the wealthy and powerful force they came known to be. Gang wars raged throughout Chicago in particular, and spread across the country and into the streets. Al Capone was the biggest name in crime, running his gang on the south side of Chicago until his eventual incarceration in the early 30's.

Musically, Chicago was one of the most important jazz scenes, with a great number of New Orleans early jazz bands and musicians moving north for a better quality of life. King Oliver, Jelly Roll Morton, and Louis Armstrong, some of the most influential artists in modern music, all moved to Chicago in the late 1910's. Armstrong and his Hot Five (and later Hot Seven) recorded throughout the mid 20's and developed jazz from its raw beginnings to the intellectual, improvised style focusing on soloists that became the framework for all jazz to come. The music got faster, more complicated, more arranged, got rid of tuba and replaced it with upright bass, and really kickstarted the genre, leading it into the swing era of the 30's and 40's. Armstrong's influence on American music, and popular music in general can not be understated, and neither can his influence on racial culture, as he was essentially the first widely popular American personality who wasn't white.

Enjoy your delicious and refreshing Southside Cocktail, and imagine yourself at its fictitious birthplace in 1920's Chicago with gang wars raging outside while you listen to one of the greatest and most influential musical artists of all time, Mr. Louis Armstrong with his Hot Five. Here is one of his most famous performances, "West End Blues" recorded in 1926.

The Last Word

The Last Word is an older cocktail than people realize - if they’ve heard of it at all. It disappeared for probably 40 years until one of the great modern American bartenders, Murray Stenson, brought it to cult status in the mid 2000’s at the Zig Zag Café in Seattle. According to “Bottom’s Up!” by Ted Saucier, published in 1951, The Last Word was created in the 1920’s at the Detroit Athletic Club, making it a Prohibition-era cocktail.
It is one of the drinks that got me really interested in cocktails, and one of my favourites overall.

The Ingredients
On paper, it can seem daunting if you know the flavours of Green Chartreuse and Maraschino liqueur - or confusing if you don’t. Green Chartreuse (which hails from 1700's France, is naturally green, and is made from 130 different herbs) is a very potent herbal liqueur with an extremely interesting and deep flavour, and can overpower cocktails if not used properly and probably scare off the uninitiated if tasted straight. Maraschino liqueur is also a very interesting and potent flavour that can even more easily overpower a drink if not used properly, and is even more likely to scare newcomers away. It’s not red or overly sweet or fake or related to those fake and gross maraschino cocktail cherries (often not even made from real cherries). It’s a Croatian liqueur made from Marasca cherries and their pits, and tastes a little like fruit, nuts, herbs, and, well… Maraschino liqueur. (Also, it’s pronounced ma-ra-SKEE-no).
They’re both used in some fantastic drinks – particularly Maraschino, which is a must for your bar if you’re interested in classic cocktails. The two of them together in one drink balanced by citrus works in perfect harmony. The sweetness of the Maraschino and Chartreuse balance the sour lime, the herbal Chartreuse brings out the herbal character of the gin, the Maraschino has a subtle fruit profile that fits nicely with any juice, and both the sweet liqueurs seem to calm each other down. You can really taste the character of both yet feel like you're having something new.  I think it's fair to say that The Last Word is one of the most perfectly balanced drinks there is.
Maraschino is a must for your bar, and I recommend getting Chartreuse for fun as well, if only to make this particular cocktail.

The Recipe
Combine equal parts of:
Gin
Maraschino Liqueur
Green Chartreuse
Lime juice (fresh)
In a cocktail shaker, add ice and shake, strain into a cocktail glass
3/4oz of each ingredient makes for a good sized drink, I wouldn't go for more unless you have big glasses.
For the gin, I suggest something herbal to complement the Chartreuse, like my rock, Tanqueray (he's always got my back), or my special, fancy friends - Hendrick's or Martin Miller.

The History
In the early 20th century, Detroit was named the “Paris of the West” because of its beautiful architecture, and its Washington Boulevard, which was "lit up" by Thomas Edison. Construction was a huge industry here at the time, as were automobiles, and Americans were flooding in from the south and immigrants from Europe to get a piece of the job market and the bourgeoning businesses. (As an aside, having so many Europeans coming to Detroit probably brought an influx of European spirits and liqueurs, like say perhaps Chartreuse and Maraschino…) Because of this, population actually increased 6-fold from 1900 to 1930. Unions were being formed to protect workers, but of course the Great Depression had a huge impact on such a big city with so many jobs.
Due to the population booms, Detroit became a big jazz city like New Orleans, Chicago, and New York. One of Detroit’s biggest jazz names at the time was William McKinney and McKinney’s Cotton Pickers, and soon Don Redman (from Fletcher Henderson’s band) joined up and the orchestra became as impressive and influential as even Duke Ellington’s. Redman was integral to the development of big band swing and jazz arrangement.
So let’s celebrate The Last Word with some Detroit jazz, courtesy of Don Redman with McKinney’s Cotton Pickers, and tip our hats to both Ted Saucier and Murray Stenson for keeping this fantastic cocktail alive.

The Sidecar Cocktail

So the first cocktail we're going to try is the Sidecar. Like a lot of older drinks, its origin is not completely confirmed. Like some other older drinks, neither is its recipe.
We're going to look at where the Sidecar came from (probably), when it came from, and then really get into the experience by learning about the culture of its time and place of origin as well.


The Sidecar

The history of the cocktail:
The myth of the Side Car is that it was invented in the 1920's in Paris for a decorated war veteran who arrived at a bar in a sidecar and asked for a drink to cure
his current case of 'feeling under the weather.'

The more likely truth is that there are two separate accounts in 1922 that give credit for the recipe to Pat MacGarry, who was the main bartender at Buck's Club in London, which opened in 1918.
So, it's likely a British-made drink, but possibly a French-made drink. Nonetheless, it is made with French ingredients, and became famous mostly in Paris at one particular bar, so we will stick with the French side of things for our theme today.
The very practical side of this drink's creation is a natural evolution from older cocktails (as is often the case), namely the Crusta - a style of libation first published in 1862 by Jerry Thomas, the grandfather of mixology himself. It includes brandy, lemon juice, curacao, simple syrup, and bitters. Cocktails containing orange liqueur, a spirit, and citrus evolved into many different cocktails we know today (see my post on The Margarita and its evolution from the Daisy Cocktail).

The bar that made The Sidecar drink famous was around for a long time in Paris, and was bought by an American in 1911, who renamed it the "New York Bar," and hired, and later sold the bar to Harry MacElhone in 1923. At this time, many American tourists, artists, musicians, and authors were moving to Paris (thanks
to Prohibition among other things), and the bar was intended to be a place where expatriates from America could feel at home.
After MacElhone took over, the bar became arguably one of the more famous in the world. George Gershwin composed "American In Paris" here, and it claims fame to creating some of the more famous classic cocktails, including the Bloody Mary, the French 75, the Monkey Gland, and, as we are discussing today, the Side Car.

The Recipe:
The earliest printed recipe has all parts equal (known as the "French" or "Paris School"), but the most famous recipe is in Harry Craddock's Savoy Cocktail book, which lists cognac to lemon juice and Cointreau at 2:1:1 (this is the "English" or "London School"). Like any other classic cocktail, the ratios are different depending on the bartender and, of course, how you like your drink. Embury, from "The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks" even lists the ratio 8:2:1, cognac to lime to sugar syrup (a Daquiri with brandy instead of rum).
I generally prefer my cocktails spirit-heavy, and a little on the sour side when using juice. Using a nicer cognac, rather than a cheap brandy (as is often the case unfortunately), I suggest a 4:1:1, maybe with an extra dash or two of juice.

In cocktail books in the 1930's, the recipe also included a sugar rim for glass, like a Crusta (the Cocktail's forgotten brother). If you're making the drink very strong or very sour, this can be a nice addition, but overall I quite dislike very sweet drinks and feel it's unnecessary.
Sugar rims can also be quite annoying when the condensation of the glass turns the sugar into a syrup that inevitably gives your fingers a sticky bath. Cointreau is sweet enough, and if you're using Cognac (as you should be) you don't want to mask the flavour with so much sugar! (Down with overly sweet drinks! That's another topic for another day...)

The Ingredients:
Cognac (which should be used) is a brandy made in the Cognac region of France from a grape wine (with other very strict production rules, from location and grape-type, to the double-distillation technique, to the wood from which the barrels are made in which the brandy is aged).
A brandy is wine that has been distilled, and then usually aged in wooden casks. (You can use any brandy in this cocktail, but of course, Cognac is best)
Cointreau is the original type of triple sec.
A triple sec is a liqueur made from a typically neutral (flavourless) spirit, then flavoured with orange peels.
A liqueur is a spirit that has been flavoured and then bottled with added sugar.

Cognac is unfortunately not cheap, and a 750mL bottle will run you about $55 in BC.
If you just want to try the drink with a cheap brandy, you can get a 750mL bottle for about $23, though be warned - the drink will not be as smooth. If you're not used to the taste of brandy, I suggest going French or English school with the recipe to start so you don't get turned off.
Cointreau runs about $35 per 750mL bottle, but with the amount you will use, definitely just pick up a 375mL bottle, which runs $18. I go through one of these small bottles every couple months, and that's saying a lot because I drink a LOT ;)
You can save almost 50% by getting a cheap triple sec, but these tend to be overly sweet and kind of gross. Cointreau has a much more subtle and orange-y flavour that really does make a difference to your cocktails.
As for the lemon juice - use real lemons!! Never use a sour mix or bottled lemon juice in cocktails. You will ruin your drink and waste your other ingredients.
Getting a hand-held juice is easy and cheap (I got mine for $6), or if you just want to jump right in... half of an average lemon is about 1oz of lemon juice. Measuring properly always gives more balanced drinks though!

Art and culture at the time:
Paris was an epicentre of art and literature in the 20th century, and in the 20's Art Deco was beginning, Dadaism was leading to Surrealism, and many famous artists and writers made the city their home, such as Salvador Dali, Pablo Picasso, Ernest Hemmingway, James Joyce, and Gertude Stein. Art was in a revolutionary period at this point, and people were really started to think outside the box, so to speak.
Prohibition had taken hold of the US, which had a hand in increasing the number of Americans travelling to France. Racism was not nearly as much of an issue in Europe as America, which allowed talented writers and performers to really become successful in France when they could not do so in the US (people like James Baldwin and Josephine Baker).

Music:
At the time when the Side Car would have just started to boom in popularity in Paris - about 1923 - jazz was just starting to become popular in Europe. Most notably, James Reese Europe and his Hellfighters were touring Europe during and just after WWI and planting the seeds of early jazz. This music was militaristic in nature and instrumentation, but swung. It was an evolution of ragtime, and was the beginnings of big band swing to come in the following decades. Europeans had never heard anything like it before, as jazz was a completely American music. Jazz in its entirety wasn't really accepted into European culture until the 1930's, and several French jazz musicians live on in infamy today, such as Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grappelli (both of whom you might have heard playing in bars and cafes in Paris in the 30's while you were sipping your Side Car).
Throughout the 1920s, many American musicians, artists, and writers moved to Paris. One such musician/performer was Josephine Baker, who was one of most famous performers of the 20's, despite being black (and that was a big deal back then). She was the first 'person of colour' to star in a motion picture, first to integrate a music hall, and one of the first famous black performers ever. She was an important figure in civil rights issues to come as well. Never really apprecated in America as she was in France, in part because she wasn't white, she still to this day remains a solid influence on American singers and performers. Her stage shows, which of course played upon her ethnicity, contributed to the birth of the term "jungle music," which also described at the time such artists as Duke Ellington, and was more of a racial slur than a description of the music itself.

So, to go along with your Side Car from Harry's Bar in Paris, with French Cognac or Brandy and French Cointreau, is one of the more famous performers in France at the time - despite not being French herself - Josephine Baker, performing a piece in 1927 by the American composer of the same period, Irving Berlin, entitled "Blue Skies."