On a chilly November night two years ago, an old friend and I slid into
a booth in a quiet, candlelit New York bar for what was to be a quick
drink and a chat. Several hours later, we slid out, in tears and in
love — drunk on the potion that was hot buttered rum.
Thus owing my whole sex life to a winter warmer, I tend to look rather sentimentally forward to cold snaps.
So like a Cherokee doing a rain dance in full headdress, I’ve been working frantically to hasten the season by beseeching the gods — or at least some local mixologists — to send cocktails: rich, dark, tummy-tingling cocktails. And lo, they have heard my calls and promised to deliver. Though not all the concoctions they’re crafting are toddies, all share dear alcohol’s wondrous ability to “increase[] the volume of warm blood in the skin” and thereby produce a “feeling of warmth,” as authors Haven Emerson and Gerald N. Grob put it in Alcohol and Man: The Effects of Alcohol on Man in Health and Disease. That may not sound so romantic in the flush of Indian summer, but read on — the scoops I got should set your capillaries stirring.
Actually, according to co-owner Alon Munzer, you can have your rocks and get them off year-round too at Hungry Mother (233 Cardinal Medeiros Avenue, Cambridge, 617.499.0090). Though the Pappy van Winkle 15-year-old bourbon ($12) Munzer just added to the menu “warms you up with one sip,” those who take their corn poison over ice should know that he’s making his own dilutionproof cubes. Just as a small cube, which has a relatively large surface area, melts relatively fast, Munzer explains, so a large cube does the opposite: if you strain a chilled drink over “two big, solid, really cold ice cubes, then [they] keep it cold rather than melting” to the chagrin of “those who like to linger over their drinks.”
Drinks like, say, the #41 ($9). Though served on the rocks, this new addition to Munzer and crew’s selection of afterdinner nips goes autumnal all the way with equal parts Jacques Cardin brandy and Amaro Meletti, an Italian digestivo with, in Munzer’s words, “a little bit of sweetness, a little bit of warm spice — cinnamon, cloves. We wanted to introduce people to bitters that they’ll actually like the first time they try them” (kerpow, Fernet). A finishing dash of Boston-based Bittermens Xocolatl Mole bitters “has got that cocoa and cinnamon” savor you can really cuddle up to. And it’s garnished with chestnuts roasted on an open fire. Kidding. Meanwhile, the #43 ($9.50) combines Old Overholt rye with Ferreira 10-year tawny port, Vermont maple syrup, and Angostura bitters to positively smack of harvest-gold field and forest. Munzer credits bartender Duane Gorey with devising it in the middle of a move, from whatever he hadn’t already packed. “As soon as he tasted it, he texted me. We had all the ingredients at the bar, so I mixed one up too. I added an orange twist to give it a bit of acid, and the drink was born. It’s a classic cocktail story. The guy just needed a drink.”
Speaking of classic cocktail stories, Gary Benacquista’s got one: “Central Kitchen will be unveiling its first drink list in the coming weeks.” And we all lived happily ever after! Oh, wait, there’s more. “We’re known for our rustic Mediterranean fare and our wine list,” he admits, “but there’s a lot of experience — and liquor — behind that bar, and we want to call attention to that, too. We’re not afraid to squeeze a little fruit.” After all, Benacquista is also the bar manager at the Enormous Room (567 Mass Ave, Cambridge, 617.491.5550) directly upstairs, where the ladies like the frou-frou. There, in fact, he has just debuted the Black Bear Martini ($9) with Stoli Blueberi, Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur, and blueberry puree, plus a garnish of candied ginger — a flavor pairing redolent of the juicy crispness of early fall. Later in the season, he’ll be adding a spiced Manhattan ($9): “The vanilla beans have to soak in the bourbon for about six weeks; then I’ll most likely add some cinnamon. It’ll be shaken and strained into a martini glass with a cinnamon stick.”
Meanwhile, the drink list at Central Kitchen (567 Mass Ave, Cambridge, 617.491.5599) will put a greater emphasis on the classics — but since “it isn’t a high-volume cocktail lounge,” Benacquista notes, “we can spend more time on more elaborate drinks” as well. Ask sweetly, for instance, and he may even whip up a toddy or two: “I hope [they] make a comeback. It’s hard to find a good one because there isn’t a ton of demand for them until the dead of winter.”
True that, though visions of sugarplums are already dancing in the head of Persephone (283 Summer Street, Boston, 617.695.2257) bar manager Chris Graeff, who says that come fall his thoughts turn to “whiskey, brandy, darker fruits — currants, figs, plums — and richer spices like clove, cardamom, and cinnamon with some chili-pepper-esque heat, as well, to act as the primary components of our drinks.” Just what will those be? “We’re still tweaking things,” he says, but “my bartenders and I are considering some interesting recipes focusing on digestifs such as Fernet Branca, Averna, and Benedictine and other herbed brandies.”
And that’s only the beginning for Graeff, a human cornucopia of seasonal ideas. “We’re also turning to fall standards like squash purees: Georgia candy roaster, butternut, and the obligatory pumpkin puree for cocktails. We’re going to match them up with local hard cider and high-end bourbon, adding a little cranberry or lemon juice for acidity. Campari is going to factor in as a mixer as well; we’re all still in love with that sweet-bitter orange aperitif.” Finally, he adds, “as our infatuation with tea as an essential, non-cloying yet flavor-imparting component of cocktails continues, you’ll be sure to find some genmaicha, white peony, chai” and others sprinkled throughout the drink list, too. For instance, Graeff’s working on a mixture of Belle de Brillet pear brandy, cider (which “has to be light, yet flavorful”), dry vermouth (“for balance and aromatics”), apple-infused simple syrup, and “over-steeped” English breakfast tea: “the earthiness of the tea yields the slightest hint of fall fruit pie or pastry.” Sounds like an aphrodisiac to me.
