Someone’s surely made this before though I couldn’t find a recipe: the Manhattan cocktail formula transposed for sherry and port. It’s bright with the acidity of the wine, and definitely lighter in alcoholic impact than spirits, like you’d expect. But for an aperitif cocktail, it seems kinda like a New Yorker.
Waverly & Waverly
2 oz amontillado (Lustau)
1 oz port (Churchill Reserve)
2 dashes orange bitters (Regans’)
Stir with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Orange twist. ROWEN, FOGGED IN LOUNGE
Sherry—so delicious! Only a few years ago was I startled to learn that others might not consider sherry a morning beverage. Can you imagine? Anyway, when I saw that the incomparable Frederic of Cocktail Virgin Slut posted a Sherry Mai Tai, I made it as soon as possible, and then made another. A sherry cocktail is probably going to be an easy sell around here. Wanting more, I was inspired to think of a recipe of my own using another favorite ingredient, apple brandy. It’s a bit like Todd Maul’s Joe Bans You, also blogged by Frederic. I feel a wine cocktail series coming on.
2 oz straight apple brandy
1 oz East India Solera sherry
3/4 oz lemon juice
1 tsp orgeat
1 dash Fee Bros Whiskey Barrel Aged Bitters
Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. ROWEN, FOGGED IN LOUNGE
It’s time again for Mixology Monday. This month, Mark Holmes of Cardiff Cocktails invites us to show off our mad herbalist cocktail skillz with his awesome theme, Witches’ Garden. I was expecting this challenge to help me welcome in the summer time with something
light and bright, but ended up with a velvety room-temperature potion of
rosemary, sage, and port wine goodness.
1 1/2 oz cognac
1 1/2 oz port
3-4 sage leaves
1 sprig rosemary (an inch or so)
Bruise the herbs lightly but thoroughly in a splash of the cognac. Add the remaining cognac and the port, stirring well. Strain through mesh into a snifter or other balloon-shaped glass. ROWEN, FOGGED IN LOUNGE
The herbs bring out savory notes in the port and brandy. Rich and subtly aromatic, this would be just the thing for a winter night. On a May afternoon, it’s contemplative and still, and casts a strange spell.
The return of the squash-chili syrup. It’s a pretty good ingredient, though I’m thinking I could turn up the heat of the chilies a little. I’ve played more with the savory side of the squash this time with dashes of balsamic vinegar and salt, and a little Laphroaig for smoke. Sorta Sidecar-ish.