Let me explain. This Saturday just gone, I had motive, means and opportunity to go to a cocktail bar in Covent Garden, London, UK, Planet Earth, and as this isn't an everyday occurrence for me I was naturally craning my neck to see the manner in which our drinks were made. After all, I might learn something. This place was rammed full of people, with chaotic lighting, slightly peculiar dance music at conversation-thwarting volume, and plenty of competition for service at the bar. Once there, and a round of drinks ordered, I watched their preparation and noted the following things:
Everything that could feasibly be done with huge sweeping movements of the arm was performed thus, and around 25% of all ingredients poured went on the bar rather than in the drinks. This seemed to be standard operating procedure.
This, then, was performance mixology, albeit a low-key variety, where visual flair counted for at least as much as the quality of the drinks. I became increasingly curious as to how the drinks would turn out.
Spying a bottle of Sagatiba cachaça on the back bar I decided to have a Caipirinha. An old-fashioned glass was produced, into which an extraordinary number of 1/8 lime wedges were placed...easily between six and eight, until the glass was mostly full already. Then some light-brown sugar was added on top of this, and then the cachaça, followed by what looked like cracked ice on top until the glass was full, and two large straws.
The eagle-eyed among you will note that (unless I was extraordinarily unobservant) no muddling or shaking took place, so of course the drink tasted like cachaça with lumps of undissolved sugar interloping their way up the straw. The lime's purpose seemed to be mostly visual. Not very impressive.
As I understand, in Brazil they would make the drink something like this:
2 measures Cachaça
Half a lime cut into 6 equal pieces
A generous teaspoon of sugar, either caster/superfine or something unrefined and otherwise desireable
Place the sugar in the bottom of an old-fashioned glass. Add a little cachaça, then the lime pieces, and muddle until all the juice has been released. Fill the glass with ice, then pour the cachaça on top and you're done. If you're Chris McMillian, you'll then pour the whole lot into a shaker and shake hard, then pour unstrained back into the glass and top up with a bit more ice. Simple, and beautifully effective; no labour-intensive drink this. And no bloody straws needed either.
Meanwhile, my sister was trying her John Collins and remarked that while it looked nice, it just tasted of gin and soda. This got me thinking, as after all a John Collins is if anything an even simpler drink than a Caipirinha...shouldn't it be very easy to make quickly and stylishly? What could go wrong other than an ill-thought-out recipe?
So, this evening, with the Collins on my mind, I made myself one to see what could be done with it. A John Collins is essentially a gin and lemonade made with fresh juice. I started off by juicing some available bits of cut lemon that were lying around, but discovered I had more than I needed for a typical recipe. Of course, I just threw it all in anyway and decided to make it work somehow. Here's the resultant recipe:
2 measures gin
1.5 measures fresh lemon juice
About 6 teaspoons of caster sugar
Soda water
Fill your glass with ice (I used a highball as I don't own any proper collins glasses), then pour all ingredients and ice into shaker. Shake hard then pour unstrained back into glass and add additional ice as needed. Top off with soda and add a generous dash of angostura bitters, serve with straw.
Somewhat nonstandard, but try it and tell me that isn't awesome.
