A delicious variation on The Last Word, the Prosecutor was named by MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow, who played no small part in introducing me to the cocktailian world during the waning days of her “Air America” radio show. The drink itself was, as per the absurdly prolific Frederic Yarm, concocted by Boston bartender Josey Packard.

What’s in a name? I haven’t a clue, but the Prosecutor is really quite delicious. Refreshing, well-balanced, super boozy and sweeter than you might expect, it’s not a bad way to welcome the summer this Memorial Day weekend.

The Prosecutor

1 1/2 ounces rye whiskey
1/2 ounce fresh lemon juice
1/2 ounce Yellow Chartreuse
1/2 ounce elderflower liqueur

Put everything in a cocktail shaker with plenty of ice. Shake as vigorously as you think necessary to bring sense into an apparently brain dead 40% segment of the populace, and strain into a well chilled rocks glass. Sip and appreciate the fact that justice may actually be done…eventually. Partially. Maybe.

****

Except for one round with the last of the tasty, no-name, artisanal elderflower liqueur I used last week, all of my stabs at the Prosecutor contained St. Germain, which is an absurdly delicious product in any case; for me, it brings back childhood memories of illicitly licking up honeysuckle nectar. My ryes included the last of my Hochstadter’s, as well as Woodford, Rebel Yell Small Batch and Canadian Club 100% rye. The first and last were probably the sharpest, sturdiest attempts at the Prosecutor; the others were slightly more on the mellow side, but all were really pretty delightful.

I think the secret to this one is the way the Yellow Chartreuse — which is sweeter and, at 80 proof, a mellower brew than its green sister beverage — and the St. Germain blend to overpower the lemon juice but not the whiskey. Also, I think serving this in a smallish rocks glass, as opposed to the more typical cocktail glass, is an intriguing final touch. Somehow, it just makes the drink seem more judicious. And, no, I really don’t know what I mean by that.

Coming soon: I promise to be developing my own augmented take on the Prosecutor. Any guesses as to the name?

Indeed, I honestly can’t remember whether or not I’d ever seen 1936’s “Theodora Goes Wild” before this year. However, I now know that it’s easily one of the smartest and most iconoclastic films in the cycle of screwball romantic comedies that ran through the 1930s and 1940s. The film stars Irene Dunne as a seemingly super-upright, small-town spinster (today we call them “adult single women”) who is secretly the author of an allegedly steamy bestselling novel; her costar is the invariably roguish Melvin Douglas as a troublemaker who gets more than he bargained for when he needles the beautiful writer, presuming she is a teetotaler. She takes offense at the suggestion and, careful to put him in his place, she orders a “straight whiskey,” and then another, and another.

To say that hijinks ensue is really not honoring my cliches correctly. It’s both funny and gently satirical in the way of the best screwballs. It’s not as well-known as other films in the cycle, perhaps because it’s director, the very talented, Polish-born Richard Boleslawski, died shortly after “Theodora Goes Wild” was released. With an outstanding script by Sidney Buchman and Mary McCarthy, it stands up with the best of them.

And so does my drink, especially if you like your good and straight. Sure, when Ms. Dunne’s character ordered “straight whiskey,” she probably meant without water, ice or soda, but straight whiskey also refers to an unblended bourbon or rye. And since the title is “Theodora Goes Wild” and not “Theodora Gets Mildly Tipsy,” I figured it better be strong and plentiful. So, here we go…

Theodora Goes Wild

3 (!) ounces straight rye or bourbon — 90 proof or more!
1/2 ounce elderflower liqueur
1-2 dashes aromatic bitters
1 cocktail cherry (desirable but non-essential garnish)

Combine the liquid ingredients in a mixing glass or cocktail shaker, and stir or shake. (I prefer stirring.) Strain into a large, well-chilled cocktail glass and throw in the cherry, if you’ve got it. Ponder my personal belief that we should practice moderation in all things, including moderation.

****

First, a warning. I really like this drink, but it’s very, very strong and never failed to hit me like a ton of bricks. You could mild it up slightly by going 80 proof with the whiskey, but then all you’ve really got is a (still very strong) spin on a Manhattan….not quite my idea of the kind of drink that could turn a person’s life pleasantly upside-down. Still, on most sane evenings, one of these should be more than enough, and don’t even think about getting behind the wheel.

As for my brands this time, I used three different whiskies. The mellowest was 90.4 proof Woodford Reserve Straight Rye, a really terrific brew and sweet as ryes go. On the other hand, there was something to be said for the delightfully fiery result I got with Wild Turkey 101 Bourbon. The sternest of the three was definitely Hochstatdter’s 100 proof straight rye.

As for the elderflower liqueur, St. Germain is pretty much the go-to brand, and it’s pretty marvelous stuff that you can actually drink straight. Still, I also happened to have a small bottle of a delicious but ridiculously expensive boutique liqueur I bought a couple of years ago. I’d tell you the name of the shop where I got it, but it’s not printed on the bottle and I don’t have the slightest recollection of the place’s name. Let that be a lesson to any small boozemakers out there. In any case, as befits it’s price, the stuff is slightly better and more complex than St. Germain and resulted in an ever-so-slightly better drink. Really, though, I pretty much loved every version I made of Theodora Goes Wild, especially after I’d consumed them.

And that’s it for this year’s TCM Fest Salute. If you missed this year’s earlier entries, you can see them here, here and here.

Oh, and it turns out that “Theodora Goes Wild” is available for free on YouTube. Let’s go to the movies!

Directed by George Cukor and reportedly adapted by original playwright Garson Kanin (with a little help from wife Ruth Gordon), “Born Yesterday” is the kind of movie that my mother and I loved but which cinephiles often ignore. Perfectly rendered stage play adaptations might get multiple Oscar nominations and ecstatic reviews the year they’re released, but as time marches on, film snobs have a way of playing down most movies where the word threatens to be more important than the image.

I’m sure a few may also resent “Born Yesterday” in particular because co-star Judy Holiday won the Best Actress Oscar for it against both Gloria Swanson in “Sunset Boulevard” and Bette Davis in “All About Eve.” It might seem shocking to some, but Ms. Holiday’s performance entirely deserved to be in the same ballpark with those two legendary heavy-hitters. And so does the film as a whole. Seeing “Born Yesterday” again for the first time in probably a couple of decades, I was surprised to find not just a well-rendered, literate and often hilarious rom-com (such things were once relatively common!) but also a sharp satire that is, if anything, almost excruciatingly relevant to our time.

See if the plot rings any bells for you: Billie Dawn (Judy Holiday) is the blonde trophy fiancee of a thuggish, ignorant, incurious junk dealer turned steel tycoon Harry Brock (Broderick Crawford), who’s headed to Washington, D.C. to make himself really, really rich by making a shady deal or two with what we now would call Beltway insiders. Harry thinks he knows plenty about the way Washington works, but he decides his gal could use a little educatin’. His solution: hire ace political reporter Paul Verrall (William Holden) to give Billie enough of the Washington basics that her ignorance doesn’t stand out so much. As you might expect, Billie really does learn a lot, including that relatively obvious fact that her teacher is a vastly better catch than her current attachment.

As was mentioned in the TCM Fest introduction by entertainment writer Tara McNamara, Garson Kanin saw Billie Dawn as a metaphorical stand-in for the American people. We might sport a kind of light and easy, ignorant cynicism about politics, but we basically have no understanding of its true importance. At the same time, however, Billie is anything but stupid and has plenty of inherent decency — it just takes a little education and some time with a person who actually respects her as a human to turn a stereotype into a minor heroine of American democracy.

Okay, I know our own current political nightmare won’t be solved by setting up Melania Trump with Jake Tapper, but check out this line, uttered by William Holden’s reporter character, that caused the TCM Fest to break out in spontaneous applause: “I want everyone to be smart. I want ’em to be as smart as they can be. A world full of ignorant people is too dangerous to live in.”

And what of the Born Yesterday cocktail? We start with the most innocent of non-cocktail cocktails, the Shirley Temple, which is simply lemon-lime soda (7-Up or Sprite, usually) and a bit of grenadine. However, since this is a tale of maturation — and a cocktail blog, of course — we need to add a more grown-up and world-aware beverage to the drink. Since Billie Dawn and company seem to favor Scotch, I made it Scotch. Finally, add egg whites for whatever symbolic meaning they might have in terms of a rebirth and to make this drink a really delicious member of the fizz family of great American cocktails. See what you think.

Born Yesterday

2 ounces Scotch whisky
1 large egg white (or 3 tablespoons of packaged egg white)
1 teaspoon grenadine
1-2 dashes Angostura bitters
Lemon-lime soda
1 cocktail cherry (optional garnish, mainly for recreating childhood memories)

Combine the Scotch, egg white, grenadine and bitters in a cocktail shaker. First, “dry shake” without ice to emulsify the egg white, and then add ice and shake some more. Strain into a very well-chilled but not too big Tom Collins or highball glass. Add the cocktail cherry, if you’ve got one, and then carefully top off with your lemon-lime soda. Don’t add it too quickly, because you’ll be getting a good head of foam. That’s what makes a fizz a fizz. As you sip, contemplate the reality that knowledge might take work to acquire, but it really can add a lot of fun and sweetness to life.

******

I love “Born Yesterday” the movie, but I also love this drink. It’s incredibly refreshing and sweet but, at least in my favorite version, not overpoweringly so. You can still taste the Scotch, and we cocktailians like drinks that don’t hide the alcohol too much. It’s also potent enough to be taken seriously. It’s definitely my favorite of the drinks that I’ve concocted for this year’s fest so far, and it’s probably one of my favorite creations

On to brands. As you might have guessed, 7-Up and Sprite work equally well here, and I can’t imagine that any decent lemon-lime soda would be inferior to a gourmet one. My 7-Up was actually hecho en Mexico (happy Cinco de Mayo!), which means it has cane sugar instead of corn syrup. I’ll let you decide whether or not that made a detectable difference in my drink, because I’m definitely unsure.

My choice of Scotch brands, however, was a matter of some definite import. Plain ol’ Dewars was my go-to booze for this drink, and it was great. Just enough of that usual astringent/slightly smokey Scotch flavor seemed to be a truly outstanding counterpoint to the sweetness of the grenadine and 7-Up and the milkiness of the egg white.

However, since Dewars is one of those brands that used to be “the good stuff” but is now more of a base-level quality booze you might find at your drunken uncle’s place, I wanted to try something more high-end in my grown-up Shirley Temple. My choice was Monkey Shoulder, a perfectly delightful but not so terribly expensive premium Scotch that a Bev-Mo employee turned me on to. Since it advertises itself as a highly mixable product — and I wouldn’t contradict that in general — you might think it would be an improvement. However, some of that mixability may be that it’s significantly sweeter than is typical for Scotch, which makes it great for drinking on the rocks or with soda but was a little too sweet for my Born Yesterday. It just wasn’t the same.

That could be the end of the tale, but since the movie that inspired the drink celebrates democracy, I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you that my in-house guinea pig disagreed with my assessment pretty strongly. This relative cocktail newbie found the Dewars version of the drink, to my horror, unremarkable; his choice was the sweeter Monkey Shoulder version. So maybe do the small-d democratic thing and try both.

1990’s “Postcards from the Edge” is a reportedly loose adaptation of Carrie Fisher’s own 1987 novel and is a fairly direct semi-fictionalization of her own struggles with multi-substance addiction, debatable romantic choices, and life itself. Directed by Mike Nichols, it’s a solid piece of inside-Hollywood comedy on the precipice of tragedy in which a working actress (Meryl Streep) tries to check out of rehab and back into some kind of emotional stability. Standing in the way is whatever it was that was making her drug herself to oblivion in the first place and her own loving but overly complex relationship with her formidable Hollywood legend of a mom (Shirley MacLaine).

The movie does a solid job of bringing the sun-dappled, stress-filled world of workaday Hollywood to life, even if it only hints at the mental health demons that Carrie Fisher would later discuss in admirably frank detail. It’s also not afraid to make drinking look pretty fun. After all, no one would develop a problem with the stuff if it wasn’t so damned attractive.

Which brings us to this week’s drink which, I promise, is completely legal in all 50 states. It is, however, an edgy homage to one of the more popular (and more drinkable) beverages of the 1970s and 80s in which the late Ms. Fisher would have done most of her wishful drinking. It’s a Tequila Sunrise that dares to bring us to the edge of a (fairly safe) precipice. I thought it would be interesting to add the gut-punch digestif Fernet Branca and the anise/bitter propulsive, absinthe, the only booze I know of which was banned for roughly 95 years.

A Postcard from the Edge

1 1/2 ounces white/silver tequila
1 ounce fresh orange juice
1/2 ounce Fernet Branca
1 teaspoon absinthe
1 teaspoon grenadine
1 cocktail cherry (advisable garnish)

Combine the liquid ingredients in a cocktail shaker with plenty of ice and shake as if you’re not sure where you’re going to wake up the next morning or who you might be looking at when you do. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass, add the cherry, and contemplate the cold reality that booze (and other chemicals) can take the edge off in a very special way, but it can’t really cure what ails you.

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The only booze that I had more than one brand of for A Postcard from the Edge was tequila…and boy, do I have a lot of tequila here courtesy of the my friends in the booze biz. (I only wish amaros, brandies, and expensive liqueurs were marketed so aggressively.) I think I had the best luck with Case Noble Tequila Blanco, which had the smoothest flavor but enough agave punch to stand up against the other ingredients. However, those who want an ever stronger tequila kick might prefer Sauza 100% Blue Agave. On the other hand, Hornitos Plata was just dandy.

Overall, I liked this particular creation quite a bit. The bitter and herbal flavors of the Fernet play nicely on my tastebuds with the tequila and the sweetness of the OJ and grenadine. However, my in-house guinea pig begged to differ and really didn’t care much for this one, finding it a bit harsh. This drink might be a little bit too much on the edge for some, but that’s showbiz.

We’ll start with the first film I caught this year, William Wyler’s 1938 “Jezebel,” starring Bette Davis as a fiery, self-centered belle who manages to muck everything up between her and fiancé Henry Fonda with her acts of wanton rebellion. On the one hand, there’s no getting around the idea that Davis’ character is set-up as an antiheroine not so different from Scarlet O’Hara of “Gone with the Wind” fame, a role many fans felt was tailor made for Davis. (This film was regarded as something of a consolation prize, though it’s quite possibly the better film.) On the other hand, looking at things through a more contemporary and more feminist lens, it’s really about a woman driven to assert some power in a world ruled by males, who start all the wars and make all the rules.

When she finally breaks one rule too many, it’s by wearing a red dress to a ball. Yup, in pre-bellum New Orleans, an unmarried woman wearing a red dress in public was enough to start a chain of events that could lead to death for anyone foolish enough to take a strong position on the lady’s honor. It was really the worst thing in the world to wear that dress. And, yeah, these people all own slaves. So much for priorities.

Still, I have at least some grudging respect for anyone who takes a dangerous stand on behalf of their own freedom, though it might be better if they fought on behalf of the rights of others. Nevertheless, in honor of the rule-breaking protagonist and her portrayers – not just Bette Davis, but the great, understated anti-auteur director William Wyler and a trio of writers that included undisputed auteur-to-be John Huston – I propose an incorrect version of a legit mixed drink classic. Mint Juleps, a longtime Southern favorite, are quaffed throughout “Jezebel.” Therefore, Jezebel the drink will brazenly break julep convention. Hopefully, no dueling-related tragedy will result if you try making this one at home.

Jezebel

2 ounces rye whiskey
1 1/2 teaspoons agave syrup
1 splash plain water
1-2 dashes Angostura bitters
1-2 fresh mint sprigs
1 watermelon spear (damnably inappropriate and therefore essential garnish)

Build in an Old Fashioned/rocks glass. Add the whiskey, syrup, water and bitters to the glass. Stir to dissolve the syrup. Next, add the mint sprig(s) and very gently muddle. Even in this rebellious drink, you don’t want to smash the mint and release its more bitter flavors. Next, add plenty of ice — let’s be lazy rebels and not bother to crack the ice — and stir until its good and cold. Sip and contemplate the danger of beauty and the beauty of danger.

*******

It’s important to understand here that a traditional Mint Julep is made with bourbon, so my use of rye, which typically is slightly less sweet and more peppery in flavor, is fairly heretical. Agave syrup is, of course, dangerously Latino compared to the usual sugar or simple syrup, and bitters of any kind are usually not involved. Scandalous! In any case, the result is almost like drinking a peppermint flavored julep that’s ever so slightly sweeter than normal. My in-house guinea pig and I liked it.

Anyhow, my ryes for this one were 90 proof Rebel Yell (!) Small Batch and 100 proof Hochstadter’s Straight Rye Whiskey. I leaned very slightly in favor of the latter; it might have been the vanilla notes as well as the higher proof that won me over. If you’re going to be a rebel, you might as well go all the way.

This week’s drink is built around kirschwasser, also called kirsch. I first learned of its existence at a pretty advanced age the first time I saw Michael Powell and Emeric Pressberger’s masterpiece of English cinema, “The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp.” If you’ve seen it — and you probably haven’t, so go use your Amazon Prime membership to correct that error now! — you’ll remember that career soldiers Clive “Sugar” Candy (Roger Livesey) of Great Britain and Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff (Anton Walbrook) of Germany bond over kirshwasser during a series of increasingly cordial social meetings in the company of their respective ladyfriends.

Given the genteel setting, I always assumed that kirsch was a sweet but complex cherry brandy that was more like a cherry liqueur. In fact, it’s a species of what’s called eau de vie, unaged fruit brandies. It’s no sweeter than whiskey or cognac and pretty strong stuff — one of the brands I used for this was 90 proof — but the cherry notes are definitely there. The Rose is a classic cocktail featuring kirsch that’s appeared in a number of early cocktail texts, including “The Savoy Cocktail Book” and the revivalist booze bible, “Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails.” Having now tried it many times, I honestly can’t tell you why this drink is less popular than a martini or a Manhattan except for the fact that most of us have never even heard of its most important ingredient.

Let’s start changing that now.

The Rose

2 ounces dry vermouth
1 ounce kirshwasser
1 teaspoon raspberry syrup (or grenadine, in a pinch)
1 cocktail cherry (highly desirable garnish)

This one’s nice and simple. Just combine the vermouth, kirshwasser and raspberry syrup in a shaker or a mixing glass, stir or shake as you prefer, and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Add the cocktail cherry and contemplate humanity’s eternal ingenuity in coming up with ways to take the fruit of the earth and use it to create delicious things that can get you all f*cked up.

****

Since kirshwasser isn’t exactly your most garden-variety spirit, you might not find a lot of brands. For whatever reason, I picked up Hiram Walker’s kirsch, which I expected to be a lighter version of something like a Cherry Herring but is more like what it actually is, an unaged cherry brandy — stiff and definitely not for faint of heart on its own. At the $20-plus price point, I might have gone with Luxardo’s take on this, though the honest labeling of “imitation cherry brandy” might throw some people off. Once I tried my first version of the Rose, liked it a lot, and decided this drink needed further exploration with a higher-end booze, I plonked down about fifty smackers for Schladerer Kirshwasser, which isn’t imitation anything and is good enough that you might consider drinking it neat or chilled straight up, Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff style.

Because it’s the kirsch that dominates here, it’s not surprising that greater depth and complexity of the superior/more expensive brew makes for a somewhat more interesting and cherryrific cocktail. Still, I kind of love the Rose almost as much with the cheap stuff. As for my vermouths, I used Martini and Noilly Pratt Extra Dry, which were both fine and about the same. There might be more vermouth than kirsch in the drink, but it’s the strong stuff that dominates the Rose.

And finally, if you don’t have any raspberry syrup on hand from Torani, Monin or Smuckers (if you can find that one), a decent grenadine might also be just fine. When I tried it with Master of Mixes grenadine, it wasn’t quite the same drink, but it wasn’t bad.

This last summer, while the world held it’s breath about the American election, fans of “Archer” got a bit of satisfaction as the show was renewed for another three seasons. And so it was that, for the second year in a row, I met with almost all of the regulars of the humorously brutal animated spy/private eye sitcom, as well as the show’s creator, Adam Reed, who also provides the voice of fun-loving voice of sanity Ray Gillette. Like my last “Archer” chat held at San Diego Comic-Con, the interviews were done two at a time in super-fast five-minute stints. Alas, this meant that acting legend Jessica Walter deferred almost entirely to Reed. Similarly, ace farceur Chris Parnell lent brilliant but “you had to be there” comic support to Lucky Yates’s thoughts on voicing the lovably sinister Dr. Algernon Krieger. Happily, stars H. Jon Benjamin, Aisha Tyler, Judy Greer and Amber Nash were more easily transcribed.

As for the new season, with selfish superspy turned self-involved private eye Sterling Archer last seen floating fully clothed and wrong side down in a Hollywood pool, “Dreamland” will take us into a season-long fantasia set in the film noir heyday of 1947. Presumably emanating from the not-quite-dead Archer’s brain and very definitely from the show’s new network home of FXX, the show premieres Wednesday, April 5th at 10PM.

We are promised a great many noir references, the return of former guest star Jeffrey Tambor and no doubt phrasing and anachronistic references to Kenny Loggins. We can also reportedly expect a touching tribute to the long-suffering character of Woodhouse, formerly played by veteran actor George Coe, who passed away at 86 in July 2015, a few days after my first meeting with the “Archer” cast.

Showrunner-creator Adam Reed on how Season 8 will compare to past seasons.

“It’s the most different thing that we’ve done. It is going to be even more serialized than we’ve done in the past. And also in French.”

H. Jon Benjamin (Sterling Archer) on his reaction to first learning of the apparent death of his character in the Season 7 opener.

I was nervous that it was the end of the line for Archer, though. I got the news that he was going to die and I was like, “Well, there goes that job.” There was that poor guy from “Game of Thrones” who got killed in the first season. That sucks. You have to watch all of them have the best time of their lives for seven years. That’s the worst feeling in the world, and I got killed in like the third minute.

Aisha Tyler (sensible superspy Lana Kane) on the rest of the cast’s reaction to the news.

He’s not a real person, so nobody freaked out! The great thing about being a cartoon character is that you can die and come back to life many, many times.

Judy Greer (insensible superspy assistant Cheryl Tunt) on her favorite moments as the deeply strange Ms. Tunt.

I liked being Cherlene [Cheryl’s country-superstar alter-ego in Season 6’s “Archer: Vice” storyline.]. All good things have to end, but I really liked being a country music star. And, in the real world, sometimes people actually think that I sang those songs. If I could go back in time I would have worn those [sexy little jean shorts] when I had different body parts.

Lucky Yates (insanely mad scientist Dr. Algernon Krieger) on whether he’s met any insanely devoted/strange fans outside of one impressive fellow who had created his own real portable hologram of Dr. Krieger’s anime hologram girlfriend.

I wish! I wish people would come to me with weird crap! Am I off-putting in person? Where the fuck are my fans? Throw me some weirdness people!

Amber Nash (insanely popular fan favorite Pam Poovey) on why we haven’t seen that dolphin hand-puppet featured in the “Archer” opening credits in so many seasons.

It just never came back, but it’s in all the branding – all the Pam stuff. They’re everywhere. I think Adam particularly likes to just never mention stuff again. There’s a power in it.

Aisha Tyler and H. Jon Benjamin on Ms. Tyler’s new business venture, which could make this writer’s weekly “Drink of the Week” blog posts all but obsolete!

AT: I do have a line of ready-to-drink cocktails coming out called Courage & Stone.

HJB: “Courage & Stone.”? That’s so fascist. It’s like “Blood & Soil.”

AT: “It’s like Blood and Soil.” That sounds delicious!

JB: It gets me nervous. I’m Jewish… ”Courage & Stone,” it’s very ominous. Could result in bad press.

AT: No, not ominous! Welcoming! It’s going to say, “Jon Benjamin – I’m frightened!’” That’s going to be his endorsement.

Adam Reed on what just what was up with a rumored live-action “Archer” movie starring a certain super-handsome leading man type he allegedly floated.

Somebody floated that for me. Everybody talks about Jon Hamm. And when they say who would you have play Archer in a live-action movie and, in all seriousness, I say Jon Benjamin. And they’re like, ‘No, but seriously.’ ‘Jon Benjamin!’ One of the things I love about Archer the character is that he says such terrible things, but Jon has this magic quality to his voice that makes it sympathetic. It must have been maddening to be his mom as a kid.

Lucky Yates on whether he could play Dr. Krieger if they ever did make make a live action Archer movie.

Sure! I can’t grow an actual beard though… So, I’m going to have to get a fake beard. But I am the model for Ray, so if they’re looking for lookalikes, I can play Ray! (But I’d rather play Krieger.)

As for the drink’s history, while it’s featured in Ted Haigh’s epochal “Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails,” there’s no particular story to tell, though Haigh wonders why the tropical touch of pineapple juice came to be associated with a seat of wealth and power. I haven’t a clue, but I do know this is a nice, simple drink that’s got plenty of mass appeal and is pretty hard (though not impossible) to mess up. It’s also potent enough that you might not need a second one.

The Park Avenue Cocktail

2 ounces dry gin
3/4 ounce pineapple juice
3/4 ounce sweet vermouth
2 teaspoons orange curacao

***

I tried the Park Avenue Cocktail with at least two different brands of every ingredient, and usually more. With one or two exceptions, whichever ingredients I used resulted in a drink that was sweet without being insipid and complex enough to be worth any cocktailian’s time.

Getting into the specifics, I’d be the first to admit that the Park Avenue would undoubtedly be better with fresh pineapple juice, but since I’m much too lazy to cut one up, I used Dole and Trader Joe’s brand juices, which are both at least “not from concentrate.” My gins were Boodle’s, Gordon’s, Prairie Organic and Bulldog. I used Noilly Pratt and Martini sweet vermouth, and my curacaos were Hiram Walker, Pierre Ferrand Dry and Grand Marnier.

The latter, I believe, technically qualifies as curacao, but when combined with the Bulldog Gin, it resulted in the only version of the Park Avenue Cocktail I made that was a flat-out failure; the flavors just didn’t blend at all and the result was, to use a technical term, nasty. Bulldog is good stuff but very complex and bitter, so I think my gin choice was probably partially at fault. On the whole, I would stick with your more standard dry gins for this one. Hendrick’s, with its cucumber infusion might be interesting…or really bad. Your basic Bombay Drys, Beefeaters and Tanquerays should be great.

Moving back to the curacao, though it’s actually the smallest ingredient, it’s impact on the final product was major. Those who like their drinks slightly less sweet and more complex should  definitely try out the Pierre Ferrand Dry Curacao. It’s only a bit less sweet than a standard orange curacao and the overall result was, to my taste buds, more complex and appealing. Considering that cocktail uber-historian David Wondrich was involved with its creation, I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s such a good product that plays nicely in good mixed drinks.

Anyhow, it’s not an original thought of mine that the name of this week’s drink invites “Who’s on first?”-style comic confusion. After all, this blog is largely devoted to the kind of drinks from the past that have been slowly but steadily gaining an increasing foothold throughout the early days of this still young century. Still, when we’re talking about the Classic Cocktail, we’re not talking about the classic cocktail but a classic cocktail, if you follow me.

Like last week’s DOTW, the Classic Cocktail comes to us originally from Harry Craddock’s depression era mixed drink ur-text, “The Savoy Cocktail Book,” as filtered through founding cocktailian Gary Regan’s 2003 “The Joy of Mixology.” However, I’m much more found of this week’s entry, which is a bit more elaborate but also tastier. It could also easily be thought of as something of a souped-up Sidecar. It’s definitely a very nice variation on the theme. See what you think.

The Classic Cocktail

1 1/2 ounces brandy
1/2 ounce triple sec or Cointreau
1/2 ounce maraschino liqueur
1/2 ounce fresh lemon juice
sugar (for rimming the glass, strongly recommended)

Chill a cocktail glass and wet the edges with a lemon slice (a tiny amount of water will also work) and place the ridge of the glass in a plate of sugar — I use superfine sugar, which has its advantages — and simply spin it around. It’s similar to rimming a margarita glass with salt, except it’s sugar.

Put your glass aside and combine all the liquid ingredients in a cocktail shaker with plenty of ice cubes. Shake vigorously for maybe 15 seconds and strain into your chilled and rimmed cocktail glass. Contemplate the distinction between the words “classic,” “old” and “excellent.” How ancient does something need to be “classic.” And how tasty does it have to be?

****

Like I said above, I’m rather fond of this drink, especially as it seems to be a pretty sturdy combination that works consistently with whatever brands you’re using — and you don’t need to use the most expensive ingredients to have a good result. Indeed, I had the very best version of the Classic Cocktail when I employed nothing but the cheapest choices I had on hand: Paul Masson VSOP brandy, Bols triple sec and Maraska maraschino. It was a sweet but very mellow and well-balanced combo. Still, using slightly higher end Reynal brandy (with offices in Cognac, France), Luxardo maraschino and Cointreau (substantially more expensive than the super-inexpensive Bols) was more than tolerable, but not quite as delightful. In any case, any combination of these that I tried also worked well enough.

I will say, though, that while the sugar rim can be hassle, it’s bordering on essential here for those who are, like me, not superfond of supertart flavors. It takes the edge off in just the right way.

And here’s a classic by any definition. (And, for what it’s worth, Lou Costello was about 1/8 Irish.)

Maybe we shouldn’t be too surprised, as this drink is a bit simple and sweet for the tastes of today’s demanding cocktailians, much less the guests at a five-star hotel said to be preferred by the aristocratic set. Still, I think it’s one that’s worth trying out for yourself. It’s not bad and some people will love it. See what you think.

The Claridge Cocktail

1 ounce dry gin
1 ounce dry vermouth
1/2 ounce apricot brandy
1/2 ounce triple sec, Cointreau, or Pierre Ferrand Dry Curacao

Combine the ingredients in a cocktail shaker or mixing glass and either shake or stir, whichever you prefer, with plenty of ice, of course. Strain into a good sized cocktail glass, well chilled. Sip and contemplate the priceless allure of a really good drink (whether or not you think this one qualifies).

*****

I admit to having somewhat mixed feelings about the Claridge Cocktail. It may be partly that, when it comes right down to it, I’m not a particularly big fan of the kind of inexpensive and sort of “meh” apricot brandy that we’re mostly kind of stuck with — though I’m aware far better products probably exist. (See the great Savoy Stomp blog‘s take.) But really, no matter what I did with this drink, it was just a little bit too sweet for my personal taste. That being said, my in-house guinea pretty much loved every version I worked up.

And there were several. My gins were both stirred and shaken and comprised of the last of my enormous Bombay Dry bottle and a normal sized fifth of Prairie Gin, which is American made and certified organic. My orange liqueurs were Cointreau, DeKuyper, Bols and cocktailian-approved Pierre Ferrand Dry Curacao. Since I’ve yet to really figure out exactly what the difference is between a triple sec and a curacao anyway, I gave it a shot, and that was probably the best version. Not really worth $23-plus American, but not really that bad either.