|Kannattajajäsentemme viini- ja mietojen tuotteiden uutisia. |
Alkuperäinen Sazerac on monien mielestä ensimmäinen varsinainen cocktail.
Drinkin keksijä, Antoine Amadie Peychaud,
muutti New Orleansiin vuonna 1795 Länsi Intian saarilta. 1800 luvun
alussa hänen ystävilleen tarjoamasta drinkistä tuli kuuluisa. Drinkki
sisälsi Ranskalaista brandyä, Peychaud’in bitteriä, tikan vettä ja
hiukan sokeria. Drinkki tarjottiin suurehkosta munakupista jota
kutsuttiin coquetier’iksi. Väitetään, että juuri tästä
ranskankielisestä sanasta amerikkalaisttain lausuttuna syntyi sana
Absinthen lisääminen Sazerac cocktailiin tuli yleiseksi tavaksi 1850
-luvulla. Ruisviski korvasi brandyn 1870 -luvulla. Tätä drinkkiä on
nautittu jo yli 130 vuoden ajan ja nyt on taas mahdollista käyttää
alkuperäistä absinthea sen valmistukseen.
Sazerac’in aistikas maku on kuin sinfonia suussasi - kerros kerrokselta
lämpimiä makuja. Ruisviski tuo hohtavaa voimaa, hedelmäinen Peychayd’s
bitter balansoi sokerin tasapainoon, absinthe tuo aromaattisuutta jota
vielä sitruunankuorenpalasta puristettu aromaattinen öljy korostaa.
Vuosikymmenien aikana Sazerac’in resepti on kehittynyt eri suuntiin.
Perinteisesti Sazerac valmistetaan “Old Fashioned” -tyyliin
rakentamalla, mutta “Manhattan” -tyylinen hämmentäminen on nykyisin
yleisin tapa. Perusalkoholin voi myös korvata konjakilla, jolloin
drinkin nimi on Royal Sazerac. Black Bush viskistä tulee Black Sazerac
ja niin edelleen...
Vanhoissa Ohukainen ja Paksukainen (Oliver Hardy & Stan Laurel)
fimeissä Sazeracia nautitaan usein. Samoin James Bond filmissä "Live
and Let Die".
ROYAL SAZERAC (Torni American Bar)
|3 cl Martell V.S. |
dash Pernod Absinthe
dash Peychaud’s Bitters
|0,5 cl sokeriliemi |
|Sitruunankuoren eteeriset öljyt |
|Kaikki aineosat mitataan sekoituslasiin, sekoitetaan jäiden kanssa ja kaadetaan jäähdytettyyn cocktaillasiin. |
|Sewell Taylor, The Sazerac Coffeehouse, New Orleans, 1853 |
The Original Sazerac Cocktail
This is the quintessential New Orleans cocktail. There are those who
say this is the first cocktail, period. There's a lot of dispute over
this, but it's certainly the first to appear in New Orleans, which has
been acknowledged by many as the home of the cocktail.
This drink was invented by Antoine Amadie Peychaud, a Creole apothecary who moved to New Orleans from the West Indies and set up shop in the French Quarter in 1793.
He dispensed a proprietary mix of aromatic bitters to relieve the ails
of his clients (Peychaud's Bitters are still made in New Orleans and
sold today), and in the early part of the 19th Century he became famous
for a toddy he made for his friends. It consisted of French brandy
mixed with his secret blend of bitters, a drop of water and a bit of
sugar. He served his drink in the large end of an egg cup that was
called a coquetier in French, and some say that the Americanized
pronunciation of this as "cocktail" gave this type of drink its name.
Before long, the demand for this drink led to its being served in bars
throughout the city (euphemistically called "coffee houses" in those
days). One of these, a large bar on Exchange Alley owned by a gentleman
named Sewell Taylor, was named the Sazerac Coffeehouse. In 1853,
Mr. Taylor declared that the drink would be made in his bar only with
particular brand of Cognac called Sazerac-du-Forge et fils for which
Mr. Taylor was the sole importer and for which his bar was named.
Apparently the bar was big enough to accommodate 12 bartenders, all
mixing "Sazeracs" for their patrons, and people began to refer to the
drink with the name of the coffeehouse where it was most popular. It is
believed that during this period one of the bartenders at the Sazerac
came up with the idea of adding a few drops of absinthe to coat the
glass, and with this flavor enhancement, a true classic was born.
Around 1870, a gentleman by the name of Thomas Handy
took over as proprietor of the Sazerac House, and the primary
ingredient was changed from cognac to rye whiskey (due to popular
American tastes as well as to the difficulty of obtaining cognac at the
time). Eventually the now-banned absinthe has been replaced by the
locally-produced pastis called Herbsaint (although if you can't find it
you may substitute Pernod or any good pastis, or even good absinthe if
you live in an area where it's available -- avoid Hill's from the Czech
Republic). The drink has been enjoyed this way for over 130 years, and over 150 if you include the original version made with Cognac.
The bar moved to the Roosevelt Hotel in 1949, where the Sazerac Bar
and Restaurant still stands. The Roosevelt is now the Fairmont, and the
hotel pays an annual fee to the Sazerac Company for the use of the
name. The company, which produces, imports and distributes many
different liquors, was founded in 1870 by the gentleman who bought the
Sazerac Coffeehouse and the Peychaud family's secret recipe for the
This is an absolutely exquisite cocktail.
As you sip it, you come across layer after layer of flavor -- the
warmth and glowing burn of the rye, effused with the flavors of spice
and honey, the bite of the bitters balanced with the sweetness of the
sugar, with the subtle yet complex flavor of the anise underneath and
the perfume of the lemon oil from the twist feel like a symphony inside
your mouth. This is also a drink that warms up well, revealing even
more flavors. Sip it very slowly. Savor it. Take your time with it.
There are recipes that call for Angostura bitters as well as Peychaud's
bitters for this cocktail. All I have to say is ... it wasn't invented
that way, M. Peychaud didn't make it that way, they didn't serve it
that way at the original Sazerac Coffeehouse, even though Tom Handy's
bartenders eventually began adding that as well, so I'd just as soon
leave them out. I love the flavor of Peychaud's bitters, and Angostura
bitters are ubiquitous enough -- just about any drink you order that
calls for bitters (and there aren't many left) use only Angostura..
Give the little guy a chance.
Although I love a Sazerac made with rye whiskey, you can make a truly
spectacular drink by substituting a good Cognac for the rye, making the
drink as it was in the old days. If you have real absinthe, use that to
coat the glass, too. (I call this a "Royal Sazerac").
And speaking of rye ... get rye whiskey for this drink. Do not use
Bourbon. Don't get me wrong, I love Bourbon. I think it's simply wrong
for this drink. It has never been made this way traditionally, and
until recently would never be made this way in New Orleans, and that's
enough. I believe that if you've got something that's wonderful, that's
real, and right, and true ... you leave it alone.
As Stanley Clisby Arthur, author of Famous New Orleans Drinks and How to Mix 'Em, in print since 1937,
said in his classic tome, "While Bourbon may do for a julep it just
won't do for a real Sazerac." This comes directly from a bartender who
used to mix Sazeracs for Tom Handy, so it bears some authority.
(Not everyone as as much of a traditionalist about this drink as I am.
Of all places, Commander's Palace makes these with Bourbon. Now, I love
Commander's. I've had some of the greatest dining experiences of my lif
there. I have enormous respect for Ella Brennan and Chef Jamie Shannon,
but we have a difference of opinion here. Use rye. If it's completely
impossible to find rye where you are -- substitute Bourbon if you must.
But use rye if at all possible. And horror of horrors, Galatoire's
serves theirs on the rocks. I have no idea what they're thinking of. If
you order a Sazerac at Galatoire's, make sure you ask for it straight
My rye whiskey of choice for the Sazerac is Old Overholt, a 4-year-old
rye that's got a crisp, complex flavor ... spicy with a touch of honey.
It's an 86-proof whiskey, which is eminently sippable. However, if you
like a drink with a bit more of a kick to it, Wild Turkey makes an
excellent 101-proof rye that'll still give you an elegant drink but
will give you a little boot in the butt as well.
After writing in Looka! about my 2000 trip home for Jazzfest and my
rediscovery of the Sazerac as being my favorite cocktail of all time, a
gentleman wrote in to ask why I didn't talk about having any Hurricanes
during my visit home.
I replied, "Hurricanes are for tourists. Sazeracs are for natives." Here's how you make one.
The traditional method: Pack a 3-1/2 ounce old fashioned glass with
ice. In a cocktail shaker, moisten the sugar cube with just enough
water to saturate it, then crush. Blend with the whiskey and bitters.
Add a few cubes of ice and stir to chill. Discard the ice from the
first glass and pour in the Herbsaint. Coat the inside of the entire
glass, pouring out the excess. Strain the whiskey into the Herbsaint
coated glass. Twist the lemon peel over the glass so that the lemon oil
cascades into the drink, then rub the peel over the rim of the glass;
do not put the twist in the drink. Or, as Stanley Clisby Arthur says,
"Do not commit the sacrilege of dropping the peel into the drink."
- 1 teaspoon of simple syrup (or 1 sugar cube or 1 teaspoon of granulated sugar)
- 3 - 4 dashes Peychaud's bitters
- 2 ounces rye whiskey (most New Orleans bars use Old Overholt)
- 1/4 teaspoon Herbsaint, a New Orleans brand of anise liqueur (You may use Pernod, or some other pastis or absinthe substitute)
- Strip of lemon peel
My preferred method:(Notes -- For a long time I preferred to serve this
drink in a cocktail glass rather than the traditional 3-1/2 ounce Old
Fashioned glass, finding that it added a touch of elegance that this
cocktail deserves. However, of late Wes and I have managed to slowly
and painstakingly acquire a set of eight heavy-bottomed Old Fashioned
glasses from the old Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans, emblazoned with
the hotel's name and the word "SAZERAC" in large letters. We've become
very fond of these glasses, and I've subsequently changed my opinion on
Whichever one you use, make sure that it's been chilled for at least 30
minutes. I also recommend the use of a prepared simple syrup (2 parts
sugar to 1 part water) for this and any other cocktail involving sugar.
I don't like adding granulated or lump sugar to a drink, because it
never quite dissolves completely. In simple syrup the sugar is already
dissolved, so there's no chance of serving a gritty drink to your
guests. You may additionally subsitute Pernod or any other pastis for
the Herbsaint; however, I find that the flavor of Herbsaint is superior
to that of Pernod, so it's worth your while to seek it out.)
Add the Herbsaint to the glass, then swirl it around to coat the entire
sides and bottom of the glass. (I've also used the small-sized Misto
atomizer that's sold for the purpose of anointing Martini glasses with
vermouth.) Discard the excess, although if you enjoy the flavor of
Herbsaint you may wish to leave a small amount of it in the bottom.
Remember that the flavor of the Herbsaint should be there, but in the
background -- it should not dominate. In a cocktail shaker (I use the
glass portion of my Boston shaker), add four or five small ice cubes,
then add the sugar syrup, whiskey and bitters. Stir gently for about
5-7 seconds (if you must shake this, merely tilt the shaker back and
forth a few times; you don't want a frothy Sazerac) or until the drink
is cold, then strain into the Herbsaint-coated glass. Twist lemon peel
over the drink, and try to watch carefully to make sure a cascade of
tiny lemon oil droplets actually strike the surface of the drink; this
is one of my favorite parts of the preparation ritual. Rub the twist
over the rim of the glass, then add as garnish. (No, I'm not a slavish
adherent to S. C. Arthur's admonitions; I'll do this drink in a very
acceptably traditional manner, with my own tastes taken into account.)
Sit back, relax and enjoy the best cocktail in the world.
To make a truly spectacular Sazerac (which I call a "Royal Sazerac"),
substitute a fine Cognac for the rye, and use real absinthe if it's
available. You can also make a great and equally royal Sazerac by using
a new limited edition brand of rye -- Sazerac 18-Year-Old Straight
Kentucky Rye Whiskey. It's marvelous, and about $35/bottle at Martin's
Wine Cellar in New Orleans.