Corpse Reviver – Chasing Phantoms

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.

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.

When we left off yesterday, I had made two Munsters-themed drinks (The Herman [or, as Grandpa calls it, The Hoiman] and The Lily). The drinks were a huge disappointment, and I traced most of the problem to a foul spirit called Chartreuse. (Foul Spirits would be an excellent name for a rock band, by the way.) Now, before I tell you what happened next, let me reiterate that Chartreuse is 110 proof (i.e., 55 percent ABV). And I ended up consuming one Herman and one Lily and then another Herman (as I tried omitting the lemon juice from the second one, hoping I could make the thing drinkable). Now for a little math: I drank 1.75 oz plus 1.5 oz plus 1.75 oz of Chartreuse, for a total of 5 oz of the foul stuff. And that equates to 5 x 55% = 2.75 ounces of pure alcohol. Now, maybe that doesn’t sound like a lot to you young ones, but at my advanced age that’s enough to do some damage. Or think of it this way: I drank the alcohol equivalent of 4.58 cans of that Budweiser swill you drink.

Then I went to bed.

I awoke around 2 pm with a pounding headache; I felt feverish; and my body felt like Indiana Jones’ after he’d been dragged behind a truck. (The wife says it would be worth it if I at least looked like Harrison Ford.)

I spent the next six hours in a feverish hell, weighing the pros and cons of ending it all right now. It might sound like I’m exaggerating, but I’m not. I don’t think it was purely the fault of the alcohol content. For it seems to me that one or more of the 130 herbs in that malignant, green swill destroy a person at a cellular level. Finally, around dawn, I was able to get a little sleep, and then a shower, and my condition had improved by 75 percent. In other words, I was now only feeling ghastly. Halloween theme indeed.

Now, as luck would have it, loyal reader Chris had sent me some recipes for various types of a drink called a “Corpse Reviver.” This sounded perfect. It had a suitably Halloween vibe, and also because my corpse needed reanimating. The Corpse Reviver is billed as a kind of hangover cure. What have I got to lose?

The Recipe: There are many different versions of this drink. Here’s the one I tried: Add 25 ml each (I just round it to an ounce) of London Dry Gin, sweet vermouth, triple sec, and lemon juice to a shaker. Add 1tsp abscinthe and 1-2 tsp simple syrup. Add ice and shake and pour.

The Ratings: Careful readers will note that I’m trying to counteract last night’s kitchen-sink drink that included a fussy green liqueur by drinking a different kitchen-sink drink that included a fussy green liqueur. (Today’s green spirit is absinthe. If you hate Jagermeister, you’ll detest absinthe.) Now, the Corpse Reviver only uses one teaspoon of the stuff, but somehow it dominates the drink. All you can really taste is the absinthe and the lemon juice. Which are two flavors that don’t belong on the same counter, let alone in the same drink. One sip was enough. I’m going to cure my hangover the old fashioned way: by eating a pint of ice cream in front of the TV in my underwear. No points for taste.

The appearance is unappealing. It resembles a cross between dishwater and a urine sample. But maybe that’s just because I’m still feeling a little green around the gills. No points.

Photo stolen from the Internet. Somehow, in my delirious state, I failed to take a picture of my version.

The name is worthy. I’ll give it two points.

Grand Total: 2 points.

Dark N’ Stormy Update:

In my spare time I’ve been experimenting with variations on the Dark N’ Stormy. I tried adding a spoonful of molasses in order to make it darker and give it a thicker profile. But the molasses congealed as soon as it encountered the cold drink. I tried shaking it up, which resulted in little shards of molasses drops swimming around the drink like dead, brown guppies. But even overlooking the appearance, the flavor was horrible. Surprisingly, molasses isn’t sweet enough for this drink. It lends a distinct tang and an odd taste of corn. Back to the drawing board…

Tag: Corpse Reviver

Recalibration

Frying Pan, meet the Fire.