Two
years ago, several members of my family had the opportunity to return to Italy,
visit family, and do the obligatory tourist rounds. I asked my brother George to see if he could
find me a vintage, or any, Italian bar book. After much searching, and asking
around, he reported that he had been told there were none and that, in Italy,
drinks were not measured. Neither
sounded likely. To make any drink, as in
preparing food, a basic recipe is needed.
The ingredients need to be added in appropriate amounts and mixed in an
appropriate manner. While a skilled bartender may not use an actual measuring
device, he/she can make an accurate pour through practice. Since mankind (and womankind) have a
compulsion to chronicle any topic of interest, from ardvaarks to zydeco, where were
those elusive Italian mixology texts?
Being
told there were none, like being told something cannot be done (or shouldn’t be
done), is a challenge too good to pass on.
I set out to find a trophy for my collection and, in twenty-four hours, there
were two being shipped from Italy despite outrageous shipping charges.
Those
of you who grew up post-internet do not fully realize how easy life has become.
Back in the 60's, when I was studying geology,
doing research meant spending endless hours in a dull library, without coffee or beer, poring over
index card files. Then, with a fistful
of notes, roaming the stacks looking for
texts that were often not there, or did not have the hoped for information. After exhausting the local university library,
you would travel to another seeking the elusive grains of gold for your
research paper. Today, you can sit with your electronic device of choice, in
your skivvies with a cup of joe, browse the contents of libraries around the
world, then request the titles at your local library. Damn young whipper-snappers
just don't know when they have it good!
Trying
the easy way first, searching eBay, over my morning coffee, was a bust. There were several rather dull looking Italian
pieces from the 1980's or newer, nothing I felt worth the effort to order or work
with. Not all was lost though. I found a bargain priced, odd little 70’s drink
book from Venezuela entitled Tragos
Magicos.
Deciding
the bigger gun of a serious resource was in order, I went to my favorite online
used bookseller, AbeBooks, and the hunt was on.
Hunting a book online when you do not have a title, author or publisher,
is a matter of utilizing key words. What
key words would you use in searching for a mixology text in a foreign language?
Think about it.
I once worked with a physician who was an excellent
diagnostician. Like
Dr.
House of TV fame, he could diagnose unusual illnesses with minimal information,
later to be proven correct in testing. A favorite saying of his was
"Common things are common." In
other words, you need to rule out the ordinary before you move to the
exotic.
While
there are many words related to imbibing, sometimes the obvious are the best.
The word I use is "cocktail" in its various translations. Though the term limits you to books from the
late 1800's forward and will totally miss specialty books dedicated to punches or
other esoterica (for example, the German text Bowlen und Punche), it is a great starting point. The down-side to key word searches is that
you may end up with hundreds of titles to peruse, many of which are totally
unrelated to what you seek. Italian
drink books of quality do seem to be as scarce as hens teeth. I successfully located two, i cocktails and Il Barman e
i Suoi Cocktails. Both are well worth having and the former is todays topic.
When
it comes to enjoyable books, some are a pleasure to read, others a pleasure to
look at. i cocktails is a blend of both.
Written by Luigi Veronelli, published in 1963, i cocktails is a hefty 365 pages including the index. The recipes
include the old, as the Bee's Knees, and the obscure like the Zakusky and
Monachino. Perusing the index of
recipes, one is led to believe that i
cocktail is an amalgam of drinks from around the world. If you enjoy gin as
I do, there are over 200 recipes calling for it.
For
the visual individual, the book is a cornucopia of liqour labels. These labels
are not the usual color photos as found in so many publications. In i cocktails there is page after page of
heavy paper with individual labels neatly mounted, usually two to the
page. The lables represent products from
around the world. Very Old Fitzgerald -
Barrelled in 1955 bottled in 1963, Cederlund Schwedenpunsch, Drioli Marachino
and Tequila Sauza are but a few. I am
inclined to think the labels genuine since the Sauza label has printing on the
back that would only be seen from the opposite side of the bottle.
The
author uses a pictorial key with each
recipe that indicates the number of servings (usually two), the type of glass in which to serve, how to mix (mixing
glass or shaker), and if the drink is short, long, or hot.
Units of
measure are always a challenge to translate. Sure, a gocce (drop) in Italy, is susceptible
to the same laws of physics as a drop in
the New Mexico desert, but when we get to bicchiere and bicchierino, glass and
small glass, we have work to do.
In a
recipe where all the units of measure for liquor are identical, all bicchiere
or all bicchierino, the recipe is easily converted into a ratio. When we combine dis-similar units, we need to
know what each unit’s volume is. The chart below will help in translating
volumes of measure in Italian cocktail books. Unfortunately, Italian measures
seem to have as many differences in definition as Italy has had governments
since World War II, so the selection shown is the product of multiple sources.
Having
completed the laborious task of converting measures, we may now attempt the
pleasurable task of mixing a unique
drink from an allegedly non-existent book.
Being
an enthusiast of both gin and Campari, I was pleased to find yet another cocktail using both. If you enjoy an
occasional Americano or Negroni, you will probably enjoy the "Gin On
Top" cocktail. Served in a chilled
cocktail glass it is an excellent aperitif. Having the peculiar moniker of "Gin On
Top" would lead you to believe it is a layered drink, but this is not
so. It is a conventionally prepared,
stirred not shaken, cocktail. In real
life, I prefer shaken cocktails as I like mine colder than the proverbial witches' breast in a
brass brassiere. The introduction of air
causing a cloudy drink, and hence
"bruising" it, is of little importance to me. For me, there is no
discernible difference in taste. Neanderthal that I am, I also do not raise my
pinkie when I drink tea, or other beverages, unlike a well-bred Canadian I once worked with in Etobicoke (who
disliked me for being "loud", and I him for being prissy) -- but that
is another story.
Without
further adieu, here is the Gin On Top:
This
drink is distinctly on the bitter side. I find it best served with cheeses,
crackers, or other hors d ovres of your
choosing. This recipe for two, would work well in three smaller, old school
cocktail glasses.
Gin On Top (for two)
150 ml
dry gin
25 ml
Campari
25 ml
lemon juice (1/2 lemon) filtered to remove pulp
2 wild
strawberries
Ice
cubes.
Place
ice in mixing glass. Pour in the lemon juice, dry gin and Campari. Stir briskly
with bar spoon, leave one or two seconds, then stir again slowly. Serve
immediately in chilled cocktail glass garnished with a wild strawberry (in the New Mexico desert, you will get powerful thirsty looking for a wild strawberry)
