Halloween Cocktails

Your Lyin’ Eyes

So, for reasons that are fast becoming obvious, I’m thinking of renaming this blog series, “Steve Ruins 31 October Cocktails.”

For today, I was feeling like it was time to make something with a high visual factor. And I landed on eyeballs (not literally). There are a number of Halloween cocktails that add eyeballs to the drink, so I figured I’d pick one.

Almost all the recipes I found used lychees for the eyeballs, with blueberries for the corneas. Judging from the photos, these are perfect imitations, all bloody like they were plucked from a cadaver.

Now, I never heard of a lychee, but I figured the good folks at Safeway would know exactly what I was talking about. The millennial who was stocking the shelves looked at me like I was insane, but directed me to her (only slightly older) manager. The manager corrected my pronunciation (“It’s not LIE-chee, it’s LITCH-ee”). But despite her supposedly knowing the correct pronunciation, she seemed lost. “I think lycees are a kind of cheese,” said she. I thanked her and walked in the opposite direction from the cheese.

I googled “does Safeway carry lychees?” on my phone, and was informed that yes, Safeway does indeed carry this tropic fruit.

Supposedly available at a Safeway near you.

And yet I was unable to locate a single can at my friendly neighborhood Safeway. I asked more employees, but it seemed that they were all getting ready to call security. So I moved to plan B: I googled “How to make Halloween cocktail eyeballs?” As I mentioned, the most popular answer involved lychees, but I did find one site that recommended stuffing a pimento olive into a peeled radish. I made the necessary purchases, and came directly home.

c/o SweetThyme

Now, the lychee-based cocktails all used some kind of fruit juice, but I figured the radish/olive combo would clash with the fruit. So I figured I’d keep this simple and add the eyeballs to a proper martini.

My favorite martini uses dry gin and dry vermouth, but I don’t make it “dry.” That is, I use almost as much vermouth as I use gin. I also add a healthy dose of angostura bitters. Specifically:


The Recipe: Add 2 oz gin and 1.5 oz dry vermouth to a cocktail shaker with ice. Shake (don’t stir) and pour into a martini glass. Add a healthy dash of Angostura bitters. For the eyeballs, remove the red skin from a couple of radishes using an apple peeler. Hollow out the middle with a paring knife and/or a small melon baller, and stick a pimento olive into the cavity. Drop the “eyeballs” into the glass.

Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.
I couldn’t get them both to focus on the camera.

The Ratings: The appearance is pretty much what I’d hoped for. The eyeballs are recognizable if not convincing, and they kind of peer at you through the briny martini. This would make a fun drink to serve to an unsuspecting guest. I’ll give it three points.

As for the taste: Well, it’s my longtime favorite martini! Of course I’m going to rate it high! The vermouth and the gin interplay perfectly, and the bitters provide interest and depth. However, I do need to knock the score down a bit because of the slight radish taste imparted by the eyeballs. So, three points.

The name of the drink that described the radish eyeballs was a “sake-tini” (that is, a martini made with sake). Sake-tini is one of the least spooky names for a Halloween cocktail. However, I didn’t actually make a sake-tini; instead, I made a wet martini. That too is a singularly un-spooky name. But I think it would be fair for me to name my martini, particularly when I’ve added eyeballs to it. Let’s call it a Zombie Socketini. And for that I’ll award 2 points.

Another good name option.

Grand Total: 8 points.

Halloween Cocktails

Mudslide!

If there’s one food item/flavor that receives more criticism than candy corn, it’s pumpkin spice. (Fascinating backstory here.) So naturally I am following up my Candy Corn Halloween Cocktail with a Pumpkin Spice Mudslide. It’s the kind of sacrifice that I’m known to make for my readership.

Now, to be honest about it, I had high expectations for today’s cocktail. I’ve felt burned by the past few liqueur-based, off-color drinks. I figured that something with a stronger, coffee-based backbone as well as some creamy substance (whipped cream) should stand out as an enjoyable drink. So I found this recipe for a pumpkin spice mudslide. It sounds like something they would serve at TGI Friday’s.

The archetype

Sadly, it didn’t live up to the expectations. Let’s do a quick postmortem.

The recipe: Add 3 Tbsp Bailey’s Irish Creme, 2 Tbsp vodka, 2 Tbsp Kahlua, and 1/4 tsp pumpkin pie spice extract to a cocktail shaker. Add ice and shake well. Pour into a chilled glass, and top with whipped cream and little pumpkin pie spice (I used pumpkin spice syrup).

The Ratings: It looks like a mudslide. It’s not unappealing; in fact, it looks almost tempting. But it’s not very Halloween-y either. It just kind of sits there and looks at you. I’ll give the appearance 2 points.

In terms of taste, this was disappointing. It mainly tastes like Bailey’s. The vodka kicks up the alcohol a bit, but does nothing for the taste. And the Kahlua seems to have the same basic flavor profile as the Irish Creme. The pumpkin spice extract does nothing, at least in this small of a concentration. I was hoping for something like a rich milkshake, or at least some layered flavors. But no. This is just like taking a swig of Irish Creme. Yawn. 2 points.

As for the name: Pumpkin Spice Mudslide is simultaneously a boring name and false advertising. No points.

Grand total: 4 points.

Let’s hope we can come up with something better tomorrow. Feel free to send me your suggestions!

Halloween Cocktails

Children of the (Candy) Corn

Ah, yes. Candy corn. One of the most maligned of Halloween “treats.” It’s the candy that every kid fears when trick-or-treating. It’s the fruit cake of Halloween. It’s the cheap alternative to proper chocolate candies that are purchased by Halloween grinches.

Now, as every schoolchild knows, candy corn was introduced to the unsuspecting world in 1888 by the Wunderle Candy Company. Its original name was “Chicken Feed.” (I’m not making this up.) Wunderle never really capitalized on their invention, which was marketed much better by Goelitz Candy around the turn of the century. Goelitz had the presence of mind to change the name to “candy corn.” Goelitz, as you may know, changed its own name to “Jelly Belly” in the late 20th Century.

Today, Brach’s controls 85% of the Halloween candy corn market. Which is a market with virtually no demand among end-users, but is purchased by households to pass out to unsuspecting trick-or-treaters.

Candy corn has somehow become an iconic Halloween “treat,” although it’s highly divisive and seemingly hated by all. Therefore, it makes sense that candy corn should somehow be featured in a Halloween cocktail. So here we go!

The Recipe: Betty Crocker has a recipe for something called a “Halloween Candy Corn Cocktail.” It’s easy to make and it highlights the “candy” prominently. You start by dumping 1 cup of candy corn into 1-1/2 cups of vodka. Let it stand for at least 4 hours. (I let mine slowly dissolve overnight.)

Now, strain the remaining candy out of the vodka mixture, and you’ve got a candy corn-infused vodka base. Pour 1/2 cup of the infused vodka into a cocktail shaker, add 1/4 cup of pineapple juice, and add ice. Shake and pour into a martini glass. Garnish with a couple of candy corns.

The Ratings:

This cocktail accomplishes the unthinkable: it takes candy corn and makes it taste worse.

But first things first: In terms of appearance, this cocktail definitely features the unmistakable orange color that’s in the center layer of candy corn. But it does not display the iconic tricolor layers (yellow, orange, white) that candy corn is known for. Truth be told, this cocktail looks pretty boring and unappealing. 1 point.

Let’s move on to taste: This cocktail tastes a lot like candy corn…which isn’t surprising because it’s actually made with a cup of candy corn, dissolved in vodka. I don’t know if the different layers (yellow, orange, white) of candy corn impart their own distinct flavors, but this cocktail obviously just has one nondescript flavor. The other thing I noticed is that you eat candy corn one little piece at a time, allowing your tongue and stomach to kind of pace themselves and ease into the experience. But this cocktail concentrates 5-10 candy corns into each gulp. On top of this, there’s an added quarter-cup of pineapple juice that seems a bit out of place. The juice adds sweetness where it’s not needed, and inserts a little tang that’s totally inappropriate. The overall effect is, in a word, gross. No points.

(I did try a second version that omits the pineapple juice. That is, I tried drinking just the infused vodka by itself. Result: Huge mistake. The vodka is made more prominent, and the candy corn flavor is way too cloying without the pineapple juice to cut it.)

Name: Could there be a name more pedestrian, unimaginative, and unappealing than “Halloween Candy Corn Cocktail”? No points.

Grand Total: 1 point. We have a new record (for low score)!

Halloween Cocktails

Vampire Kiss

“Vampire’s Kiss” is the name of an absurd 1988 movie starring Nicholas Cage. It’s also the name of a half-dozen cocktail recipes, all of which feature a bright-red color meant to resemble blood. It’s easy to make a red cocktail, but can we make one that tastes any good? Let’s find out!

The Recipe: The recipe I chose requires you to make your own plum syrup. Take a half-dozen red plums, core them and slice them up, and add them to a mixture of 1 cup of water and 1 cup of sugar. Bring the mixture to a boil, then cool and refrigerate.

Now, prepare a martini glass by rubbing fresh lime around the rim, and turning the rim on a plate of red sugar.

Pour 1/4 cup of the cooled plum syrup into the glass, and add 2 oz of brandy. Top with some ginger ale.

The Ratings: First, a few confessions: I didn’t realize that a plum that’s red on the outside isn’t considered a “red” plum; instead, the inside of the plums I got were yellow. So I had to add some red food coloring to achieve the right color. Second, instead of ginger ale, I used ginger beer.

So, with those caveats, I give 3 points for the appearance of this drink. The color is deep red, suggestive of blood. The drink is even slightly viscous, which further strengthens the blood analogy. The red sprinkles around the rim are playful and in keeping with the overall vibe.

The taste, though, is disappointing. The brandy taste is just too strong, and clashes with the sweet plum syrup and with the ginger beer. Now, I don’t hate brandy, but I don’t especially like the taste either. So I’m willing to admit that you might give this a higher rating if you like brandy a lot. And yet, even a desirable liquor can clash with its neighboring ingredients, and I think that’s what’s happening here.

As an experiment (and on the recommendation of my wife), I made a second Vampire Kiss cocktail that substituted vodka for the brandy. Result: A far better drink. The vodka is pretty neutral, so the plum and ginger were able to shine through.

So, for the original recipe, I have to give 1 point for taste. For the vodka version, I’d give it a 2.5 points.

As for the name: Vampire kiss is a good name for a blood-red drink, so I’ll give it 2 points.

Grand Total: 6 points.

Halloween Cocktails

Recalibration

For complicated reasons that aren’t worth getting into here, tonight’s cocktail was made by a professional: bartender Chris at the Bull Valley Roadhouse in Port Costa, CA.

Chris plying his trade.

I asked Chris to make me a Halloween-themed cocktail. He said he didn’t have anything especially kitchy in his repertoire, but he did offer to make a Corpse Reviver. (Alert readers will recall I made one of these myself, after my misadventures with Chartreuse.) I ordered one of his corpse revivers, and he indulged me by adding a sidecar in the form of a little cauldron. Kitch triumphs!

From left to right: Smokey Cauldron, Corpse Reviver, and random skull candle for ambiance.

Now, it’s worth acknowledging that his Corpse Reviver was far superior to the one I made. But what I want to focus on here is the sidecar. I’m going to call it a Smoky Cauldron, because (1) it tastes smoky, and (2) it’s served in a cauldron.

The Recipe: I don’t know the specific proportions of ingredients, but Chris tells me that the Smoky Cauldron uses mesquite rhubarb syrup, strawberry shrub, and mescal. It’s all muddled together in a cauldron with ice.

The Ratings: The appearance is just what the doctor ordered: Putting the drink in a cauldron is a great Halloween touch. The drink is dark and mysterious, with crushed ice giving it texture and reflecting the eerie lights of this dimly-lit bar. I have to admit the atmosphere of the bar definitely adds to the appearance of this drink. There’s a lesson in there somewhere. But the overall effect was just what I was looking for. I’m giving it 4 points.

Turning to the taste: The Smoky Cauldron is delicious! It’s very, very smoky (as a result of the mesquite and the mescal). This aligns with my personal preference for Scotch, smoked porters, and smoked meats. But beyond this, there’s an unusual mix of flavors that includes the aforementioned rhubarb and strawberry, and a sweet vinegar profile. There’s also something distinctly herbal. The overall effect is slightly unnerving and unique, but it’s also intriguing and makes you want to drink more. I give it 3.5 points for taste.

The name (Smoky Cauldron–which, admittedly I made up) is simultaneously fun, descriptive, and evocative of Halloween. 2 points.

Grand Total: 9.5 points.

My takeaway: I have to face that fact that I’m really not a good mixologist. Chris knows how to make a drink. And you’d be even more impressed if you saw him mix it. This experience forces me to recalibrate my judgments about cocktails. I’m getting the sense that much of what I might object to in some of the earlier cocktails was my own damn fault. Henceforth I’m going to try to be a little more like Chris.