Hallay Amanda - Classic cocktails: time-honored recipes for the home bartender

Copyright 2011, 2014 by Amanda Hallay

Illustrations 2011, 2014 by David Wolfe

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

Cover design by Brian Peterson

ISBN: 978-1-62914-529-7

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-62914-904-2

Printed in China

For Isabel Atherton, my extraordinary agent.
Here's Lookin at You, Isy.

Contents

With special thanks to

LIM College, for their continued support of faculty involved in writing books; to Julie and Tony at Skyhorse Publishing, for their unbounded enthusiasm for this book; to my mother, Sunny Wolfe, for getting me into cocktails when it was actually illegal for me to drink them; to Pierre Hal, for his ongoing love and help with all of my projects; and especially to John D. Larson, for his unbelievable support and contributions to this book, as well as his companyso valued, enjoyed, and lovedover far too many cocktails, both classic and otherwise.

Whatll It Be?: Classic Cocktailsand What They Mean to Me

I t is a truth universally acknowledged that I am usually in need of a drink. No. That isnt true. I am usually in need of a cocktailbut perhaps not for the reasons you might think (people are so quick to jump to accusation of alcoholism when words like cocktail and need appear in the same sentence). Yet I am usually in need of a cocktail because (and I cannot be alone in this), I find the twenty-first century a little hard to bear, and things like Pink Ladies and Gin Fizzes help me to escape. Pshaw! I hear you cry. Thats what all drunkards say; they drink to escape. Ha! Weve caught you out in the first paragraph, Hallay, you big lush. But wait! Just hold your horses for a second. I did not say that I use alcohol to escape; I said I use cocktails . Yes, the booze aspect helps, but its the cocktailstheir exotic names, romantic associations, their cultural connections, and above all, their link to the past that transport me out of the twenty-first century and back to a time when people didnt have life coaches; they had lives .

Basically, cocktails (just the thought of them; it doesnt even matter if Im actually drinking one) teleport me to a place and time where I might actually have had some social purchase.

Before we venture further, let me offer up this question: Do you like Appletinis, Chocolatinis, Snickertinis, or Sex on the Beach? If you do, then this book probably isnt for you. It probably isnt for you if youre into Cosmopolitans either, for although the dreaded Cosmo has been around since the 70s, its association with Sex and the City has secured it as the favorite tipple of up-talking metro-chicks who stumble into bars in Jimmy Choo heels so high they need to hold onto each other for ballast, each believing herself to be sophisticated when she like, totally, like, orders a Cosmo , andas a consequencehas rendered it nonclassic.

Generally, the people who worship Cosmos have never even heard of its predecessor, the timeless Manhattan.

These people have also never seen Now, Voyager .

I think that, for me, my fascination with cocktails may have started with Now, Voyager . I first saw the 1942 weepy when I was about ten and was left intrigued by the endless parade of cocktails that stars Bette Davis and Paul Henried were constantly consuming; Martinis, Old Fashioneds, unspecified tropical drinks with flowers sprouting from them, all of it so glamorous, so retro, before it was retro and was still, in 1942, then-tro. Best of all was the line that Paul Henried delivers after he and Bettes first lunch together; sitting at an outdoor table at a caf in the Caribbean, he says, I took the liberty of ordering Cointreau. Although Cointreau is just a liqueur, and not actually a cocktail, the fact that handsome men once used orange liqueur to take liberties with fascinated me; what was it about alcohol that, when served in a special glass in a certain setting (preferably black-and-white), made everyone suddenly sophisticated, worldly, urbane? Surely, I thought (age ten), if I were to drink cocktails, I too would be worldly and urbane and have to wear hats and gloves and carry a clutch bag as I walked on and off ocean liners? Surely, if I drank Martinis, I would get to go to places like the Copacabana and talk to people who had cigarette cases, with dancing followed by a stroll on a tropical veranda where the male protagonist (a bit like Tyrone Power, but less creepy than he was in that movie where he played a sideshow con man whos reduced to becoming a geek) breaks down and tells me that he loves me.

This is what happened to people who drank cocktails: they went to night-clubs that came with full orchestras and hatcheck girls; they traveled on package steamers to places with palm trees and friendly locals in national dress; they had matching luggage, tailored wardrobes, or gowns by Adrian. And sometimes they carried a revolver in their pocket. These cinematic folk could break into song at any given moment, everyone knowing the exact choreography when dancing cheek to cheek; they would even use phrases like double cross. When was the last time that somebody accused someone of double-crossing them? I dont even know how a double cross works; I get it up to the point where somebody crosses youbut how exactly do you double -cross? This phrase is so glamorously archaic that we cant even make sense of it anymore! But what I do know is that when accusations of double-crossing were thrown around, there was sure to be a cocktail somewhere in the scene...

Obviously, I grew up quite disappointed with life. Where were those 1930s living rooms as seen in movies by RKOvast, split level, white carpeting, enormous deco furniture, butlers, and me (presumably) lounging in an ostrich feather negligee while getting Parker (my man, but not in the modern sense; man in the domestic servant sense) to fetch me a Pink Lady?