We just spent a few days in Valencia, Spain, with Shannon’s mother. Valencia is a fantastic city for a family vacation, with the new City of Science and Industry, the fantastic Gulliver play structure, a beautiful beach with very fine sand, great food, good art and good prices all around. More details on our other blog once we have some time. Because this space is for cocktails and we finally have something to report.
The Valencian link is only the name, The Pensionista. Shannon’s mom got the “retired person’s” discount at a number of attractions. The staff at the museums called her a pensionista and we all started referring to her in that way. The actual ingredients are more French in nature and came about from a failed last minute attempt at getting the ingredients we needed to make a Corpse Reviver #2. Believe it or not we couldn’t find Lillet, a French apertif, in any of the local shops. Instead Shannon came back with a bottle of Pineau, an apertif from the Cognac region that is made by combing the “must” for wine (grape juice, essentially) with eau de vie (in this case essentially brandy). And instead of Absinthe she came home with Pernod (a fine substitute for Absinthe, at least in mixed drinks, in these days of tighter budgets).
And so, to work, starting with the basic recipe for the Corpse Reviver #2. The first batch was a bit too sweet. This we attributed to the Pineau which, I guess, is a bit sweeter than Lillet. The second batch was just right. The third batch was even better although our senses certainly were a bit altered by that point. Here are the approximate proportions:
- 2 parts gin
- 1 part Pineau
- 1 part Cointreau
- 1 part fresh lemon juice
- 1 capful of Pernod for every 2 cocktails you’re making.
You’ll need to experiment a bit with the Pernod. Start with less…you can always add more. You want a very slight anise flavor. Your audience should say “what is that?” rather than “I really like (or hate) anise!”.
And you might have trouble finding Pineau. Theoretically, port would be a substitute. But it doesn’t really taste like port to me. Maybe a sweet sherry would work, but I’m hoping Rob will find a local source before we return to the US in June.
Enjoy!
Just before Thanksgiving I came across the recipe for an intriguing cocktail called The Violet Hour in a Gary Regan article for the SF Chronicle Spirits section. The piece describes how an SF bartendress invented the drink inspired by a beautiful quote from historian Bernard DeVoto and won a trip to France in a cocktail competition with it. Moved by the quote, I also noticed that the recipe contained some of my favorite ingredients, so I set my sights on recreating it. The purple liqueur that gives the drink its wonderful hue, Marie Brizard Parfait Amour, was a bit difficult to locate, but after a couple of weeks I was finally able to lay hands on a bottle. With great anticipation, I mixed up the specified combination of vodka, Lillet Blanc, Parfait Amour, and anisette garnished with a lemon twist. I reread the quote, raised the glass to my lips, and. . . .was disappointed. After all that effort in hunting it down, I found the Parfait Amour to be cloyingly sweet and heavy on the vanilla, reminiscent of a roasted marshmallow. Even after experimenting with the balance, I just couldn’t find a symbiosis that I was happy with using those ingredients, primarily due to the Parfait Amour. It just goes to show that in the cocktail world, as in many other arenas, what looks good on paper doesn’t always live up to one’s expectations. 


One of the things that keeps me going in life is my search for the cocktalian holy grail, the perfect cocktail that has it all: complexity, balance, and that refreshing drinkability that upon finishing one makes you immediately feel like you’d like another. Well, recently I feel like I’ve discovered just that drink.
