Get through this crisis by stocking your home bar
efore we go any further, let's reflect on some simple but incredibly important words of encouragement: you can do this. And by that, we mean you can build a home-bar program at a time when going out for cocktails isn’t on the horizon.
BAssuming that you’re not one of those covidiots who can’t seem to stop themselves from flocking to Kits Beach every time the sun is shining, you’re going to be spending a lot of hours at home over the next little while. And with that in mind, it won’t hurt to get good at something.
Bartending is one such skill. At some point, you’ll have a social life again, and nothing impresses guests like a host who knows what to do with a fully stocked liquor cabinet, a shelf full of bitters, and a jar of housemade cardamom simple syrup.
A quick confession: I’m not, and have never been, a professional bartender. I have, however, spent a lot of time on barstools in places like the Keefer, Shameful Tiki, and La Mezcaleria, all of which have cocktails worth venturing out for once this pandemic blows over.
And what I’ve picked up is that, while bartending is a pursuit you can never fully master, it’s something you can do at home passably enough to impress your fellow upscale liquor nerds.
Over the next little while, we’ll delve into all sorts of things, from the fact that simple syrup doesn’t need to be simple if you’ve got a cinnamon stick or a bunch of rosemary, to the way throwing a chipotle pepper into a mason jar of tequila can take your margarita to places that would impress Bobby Flay.
First, let’s deal with the essentials. The beauty of learning to tend bar at home is that either you’ve got everything you need, or you’re going to have to improvise.
You’ll mix most drinks in a cocktail shaker. If you don’t have one, there’s nothing to prevent you from embracing your inner hillbilly with a mason jar or a washed-out pickle jar.
The role of ice? That would be not only to chill the cocktail, but, just as importantly, to dilute it—think of it as taking the edge off, while playing an essential role in marrying a drink’s flavours. That means you’re not using cubes that have been sitting in the freezer since Stephen Harper was prime minister.
You know what’s crazy? You’re ready to go right now. Here, prove it to yourself. Let’s make a Manhattan.
If you’re at all into drinking, you’ve got a bottle of whisky around the house. Canadian Club is best, but even Jack Daniel’s or Knob Hill bourbon will do. Odds are equally good that you’ve got sweet vermouth on hand (a Carpano Antica if you were feeling flush before everything went south, Martini Rosso if you’re like the rest of us), and a bottle of Angostura bitters.
Pour all of the below into a shaker filled with ice.
1 3/4 oz whisky
2/3 oz sweet vermouth 1 dash Angostura bitters
Purists will rightly argue that you stir and then strain it all into a cocktail glass, but we’re making our own rules at a time when the old rules don’t apply. I like a less boozy Manhattan (if there is such a thing), so shake vigorously and strain into a martini glass.
The final step? We’re going dry Manhattan here, so cut a two-inch strip of lemon peel and then twist it over the drink. You’ll see the oil hit the surface and then dissolve.
Just like your problems right now. There. You did it.