As seen here earlier, Kerry Greene and I put together a trivia quiz all about gin last year. Here are the next few questions, along with my discussion of the answers. As before, I've obscured the answers by putting them in white text on a white background; just highlight the area between the brackets to see what's there, and click on smaller pictures to embiggen them.
These are some bonus (i.e., unused) questions that we cut from the initial lineup of the quiz, in favor of the ones you've seen throughout the week:
♦ One ingredient characterizes all gins, no matter the style -- as a matter of fact, it’s legally required to include it if you want to call your spirit “gin.” What piney berry is obscured from this gin flavor diagram?
This seemed too easy, even for a first question. The diagram depicts the flavor of Beefeater, from gin-review blog The Gin Is In. I like how they break down the six main flavor dimensions of gins. (I view Beefeater as the quintessential London Dry gin, and marvels at how good and especially how consistent it is; I was once talking with Beefeater master distiller Desmond Payne, who spoke of having a portrait of Beefeater founder James Burrough looking down on him from his office wall, and knowing that he’d have to be utterly consistent in following the old recipe, and to only innovate on his own time...which is what begat the brand extensions such as Beefeater 24.)
[Juniper] is lovely, and contains all sorts of interesting flavor compounds. London Dry style gins tend to really emphasize the [juniper]. “New American”/”Contemporary” or other new gin styles often minimize it or use it as just one element among many botanicals. (Some “gins” almost do away with it entirely, and Ketel One is even doing “botanical vodkas”, which are basically gins without the [juniper]. After all, gin is essentially flavored vodka that includes a particular flavor.)
♦ Both of your quiz writers count a particular classic cocktail among their favorites - the Aviation, a beauty that makes you feel like soaring. The renewed availability in 2007 of what liqueur on the American market made the Aviation’s recurrence in North American bars possible?
[Crème de Violette/Crème Yvette]
Though typically referred to as a “forgotten classic” in the early years of its revival, the Aviation had never completely vanished, thanks to its inclusion in the oft-consulted Savoy Cocktail Book, published in 1930. However, when curious young bartenders commenced their spelunking ways in the 1990s, digging through libraries and used books stores in search of old cocktail manuals and the formulae they contained, the Aviation quickly became one of the prime beneficiaries of their research.
One of those drink detectives was San Francisco bartender Paul Harrington, who inserted the Aviation, as well as a history of the drink, into his seminal 1998 book, Cocktail. “I was not aware of anyone else making the drink at that time,” remembers Harrington. The drink was also featured in other influential volumes, including William Grimes’ history of the cocktail, Straight Up or On the Rocks (1993, reissued in 2001), and The Craft of the Cocktail by Dale DeGroff (2002).
Those books all featured the Savoy recipe, which called for only gin, lemon juice and maraschino liqueur. A sea change in the Aviation’s fortunes came when an earlier recipe was found in Hugo Ensslin’s 1916 Recipes for Mixed Drinks. That spec called for a fourth ingredient, the then-mysterious [crème de violette]. (Drinks historian David Wondrich, in the introduction to the 2009 reproduction of Ensslin’s book, memorably recounts how, in 2004, he nearly dropped his beat-up volume in a bowl of soup upon clapping eyes on the Ensslin Aviation.)
The new evidence arguably added to the drink’s mystique in the eyes of bartenders, and kicked its rise into high gear.
Morgenthaler first glimpsed the recipe in Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails by Ted Haigh (2004). (Haigh advocates the Savoy version, but noted that the original recipe contained [violette].) He never cared for the drink, even then, finding it too sour and floral, but he understood why his fellow bartenders began to serve it.
“Oh, that’s an easy one,” says Morgenthaler. “It was purely because maraschino and [violette] were nearly impossible to find. It developed this almost mythological status among those of us who had never tried it.” Add to that its pre-Prohibition status and the then-aborning thirst for gin cocktails, and the Aviation had the goods in spades. It was primed to be belle of the bibulous ball.
[Compound gin] is usually the cheapest possible gin and has a reputation for not being particularly good, but there are even artisanal [bathtub gins] on the market. (You can make your own!)
“A dry martini,” he said. “One. In a deep champagne goblet.”What name does James Bond eventually settle on for this variation on the classic Martini?“Oui, monsieur.”
“Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?”
“Certainly, monsieur.” The barman seemed pleased with the idea.
. . . “This drink’s my own invention. I’m going to patent it when I can think of a good name.”