Tasting Whiskey

Muddle three slices of fresh ginger in a shaker glass. Add 2 ounces of blended Scotch, 3⁄4 ounce fresh lemon juice, and 3⁄4 ounce honey syrup (equal parts honey and hot water: stir till an equal consistency, chill), and shake with ice. Strain into an ice-filled rocks glass and float 1⁄4 ounce of Islay single malt on top (Laphroaig 10-year-old seems to be the usual choice, but don’t feel constrained; Caol Ila should be considered). Some bars get calls for these often enough that that they make up a honey-ginger syrup to save time; it still tastes great.

You’ll have to find your own favorite ratio of ingredients. Start heavy on the Scotch side of the equation, maybe 3 parts whisky to 1 part Drambuie, and work your way toward sweet Scottish nirvana from there.

The reason the Rusty Nail is so easy is that all the hard work’s already been done for you. Yes, the whisky’s been made — and don’t skimp on it; use a better blend to get the full potential here — but it’s the Drambuie that’s the star here.

I do muddle the mint, gently, briefly, with a full teaspoon of table sugar, in the bottom of a chilled silver julep cup (glass works, but silver’s so fine).
Then I cheat: I use a Hamilton Beach Snowman ice shaver. A steal at 20 bucks! It’s a motorized device that shaves pucks of ice pretty quickly and keeps them cold. So I shave until I have a cup full of snowy ice crystals, and then I pour in the delicious bourbon. You’ll want something that can stand up to the melting ice, so even though you’re pouring 3 to 4 ounces — your call — you might want to go big and bold: Knob Creek, Wild Turkey 101, or Old Forester Signature. Stir till the glass frosts up (if you’ve chilled it properly, that won’t take long). Then top it up with ice. Stick more sprigs of mint in the top, after you’ve given them a quick spank to release their aroma.
If you give the drink a straw, use a pair, and cut them so they’re just an inch over the lip; that way

The basic, “real” Manhattan is, as is often the case with the classics, quite simple: 2 ounces of rye, an ounce of sweet/Italian vermouth, and a couple of dashes of Angostura bitters in a mixing glass full of chunk ice; stir, strain, and garnish. The spices and sweetness of the vermouth (and don’t give in to martini thinking and skimp on it; you need the full ounce) complement the spicy, dry rye, and the bitters perk it, round it, meld it. What more would you need?
But mixologists like to fiddle with every ingredient and come up with something new — really new, not just a new name. Exchange half the vermouth for dry white vermouth, and it’s a Perfect Manhattan. Replace the bitters with Amer Picon, and it’s a Monahan. Switch the rye for Scotch, and it’s a Rob Roy.

Here’s what you do. Muddle a teaspoon of sugar with just enough water to wet it in an old-fashioned glass, give it 2 dashes of bitters (Peychaud’s to be authentic and right, but you can use Angostura, or some of each) and a good 2 ounces of a better rye whiskey (Sazerac 18-year-old or the younger “Baby Saz” bottlings are great, as is Rittenhouse if you’ve got it), add ice, and stir.
Once you’ve got that built, splash about half a teaspoon of absinthe (or Herbsaint) in a second, chilled glass, swirl it around to coat the glass, and pour the excess out. Strain the built cocktail into the rinsed glass. Twist a swatch of lemon peel over the drink, and enjoy. The hardest part is the rinse, and that’s just because I’m fussy about catching every bit of the glass.
Rejoice that it’s easier, because it’s delicious. The old-fashioned

Here’s how I make a whiskey sour now: fill a shaker with ice. Add 2 ounces of bourbon or Canadian, the juice of half a lemon, and a teaspoon of sugar (if you use superfine sugar, you’ll get that nice fizz and pop; it means a better tip, I’m telling you). Shake it for a while, and not halfheartedly, either. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass, and garnish with a maraschino cherry with a stem

Here’s how I make an old-fashioned, and you’re welcome to fiddle with it. I put a teaspoon of sugar (plain table sugar; we keep things simple around here) in the glass, pour in a bit of water (just a splash), and add 2 dashes of Angostura bitters. I stir a bit to dissolve the sugar, then fill the glass with chunked ice, pour 2 ounces of bourbon over it, and stir once or twice. It’s satisfyingly simple, solid, and tasty, and it’s a cocktail even a guy like me can make.