As I've been making more and more of the rum cocktails from the Mr.Boston guide, I've started taking a few liberties with the recipes.
Not with the ingredients, let me hasten to add, nor with the proportions. I really hate it when someone tries a new recipe for the first time, but decides to swap out half the ingredients, then complains that they "just don't see why people like this stuff - it's not really very good..."
It's just that, well, a lot of the Mr.Boston rum drinks turn out pink and very sweet. (I don't know who Mr. Boston really was, but MAN! that guy loved him some grenadine!) I'm okay with the color, but I've discovered that many of these drinks that are good-but-undistinguished the first time I make them are dramatically better the second time, if they are very, very cold.
Mind-numbingly cold.
Colder than ice.
Skull-shrinkingly cold.
Cold as death.
Cold as the eyes of a woman throwing your clothes out the window into traffic, item by item, as she tears your picture up into tiny, tiny pieces... (Not that I would actually know, but rumor has it that that is really cold.)
In other words, awfully darn cold.
Not with the ingredients, let me hasten to add, nor with the proportions. I really hate it when someone tries a new recipe for the first time, but decides to swap out half the ingredients, then complains that they "just don't see why people like this stuff - it's not really very good..."
It's just that, well, a lot of the Mr.Boston rum drinks turn out pink and very sweet. (I don't know who Mr. Boston really was, but MAN! that guy loved him some grenadine!) I'm okay with the color, but I've discovered that many of these drinks that are good-but-undistinguished the first time I make them are dramatically better the second time, if they are very, very cold.
Mind-numbingly cold.
Colder than ice.
Skull-shrinkingly cold.
Cold as death.
Cold as the eyes of a woman throwing your clothes out the window into traffic, item by item, as she tears your picture up into tiny, tiny pieces... (Not that I would actually know, but rumor has it that that is really cold.)
In other words, awfully darn cold.
The secret seems to be crushed ice.
If Mr.B tells me to shake one of these grenadine-y drinks over ice, and it turns out a little too sweet, the next time I make it, I've started shaking it over crushed ice.
I'm not a physicist or anything (which kind-of goes without saying) but I'm pretty sure there are two factors at work here:
1. The crushed ice has more surface area than regular ice cubes, which allows more heat transfer from the liquid in the shaker.
2. As the ice cools down the drink, it warms up and melts a little. Crushed ice allows a little more dilution of the sweet drink.
So, a few weeks ago, I bought an old fashioned ice crusher on eBay, very much like the kind my parents used back in the 1960s, and it has done a really good job of making crushed ice for me - not too fine, not too coarse - perfect for mixing drinks.
(Say what you will about single-use appliances, when they do their one job well, they do it very well.)
When I really want to chill the heck out of a cocktail, I grind a bit more ice than I think I'll need, fill the shaker 1/2 to 2/3 full of crushed ice, then put the rest in a martini glass to chill it. By the time I have shaken the cocktail until the shaker has developed a layer of frost, the glass should be good and cold.
I've heard that the stem on the martini glass supposedly keeps the heat from your hand from warming your drink. That had always seemed a little far-fetched to me, but I'm starting to buy into it; the drinks I've been chilling this way have been delightfully cold.
If Mr.B tells me to shake one of these grenadine-y drinks over ice, and it turns out a little too sweet, the next time I make it, I've started shaking it over crushed ice.
I'm not a physicist or anything (which kind-of goes without saying) but I'm pretty sure there are two factors at work here:
1. The crushed ice has more surface area than regular ice cubes, which allows more heat transfer from the liquid in the shaker.
2. As the ice cools down the drink, it warms up and melts a little. Crushed ice allows a little more dilution of the sweet drink.
So, a few weeks ago, I bought an old fashioned ice crusher on eBay, very much like the kind my parents used back in the 1960s, and it has done a really good job of making crushed ice for me - not too fine, not too coarse - perfect for mixing drinks.
(Say what you will about single-use appliances, when they do their one job well, they do it very well.)
When I really want to chill the heck out of a cocktail, I grind a bit more ice than I think I'll need, fill the shaker 1/2 to 2/3 full of crushed ice, then put the rest in a martini glass to chill it. By the time I have shaken the cocktail until the shaker has developed a layer of frost, the glass should be good and cold.
I've heard that the stem on the martini glass supposedly keeps the heat from your hand from warming your drink. That had always seemed a little far-fetched to me, but I'm starting to buy into it; the drinks I've been chilling this way have been delightfully cold.
The Beachcomber
This is another one of Mr.B's very sweet, grenadine-y cocktails that is a little bit cloying if it isn't very, very cold.
Ingredients - Light rum, grenadine, triple sec and sour mix.
Tasting Notes - Sweet and fruity. There is a little citrus flavor from the triple sec, but it's flattened out a bit by the grenadine. When it is bitingly cold, the cold sensation makes a really nice counterpoint to the sweet flavor. Mr.Boston suggests serving it in a glass with a sugared rim, which is definitely over-kill and with a lime wheel, which is just silly, so I omitted them in version 2.0.
Overall Grade - As written: C+
Without garnish and soul-crushingly cold: B