One of my favorite public figures working these days is Dessa. I describe her as a "public figure" because she's such an interesting polymath: she's an amazing musician (singer and rapper), a soulful, funny writer and poet, a thoughtful (and thought-provoking) podcast host, an engaging speaker, a riveting performer, even an impressive baker! (I bet she's double-jointed and makes great soup and is an excellent bowler as well.) She describes herself as having "quick wit, sharp pen, soft heart," and I think she's endlessly fascinating and just the bee's knees.
But why am I writing about her here? Because a couple of days ago, she published "Bury the Lede: A Cocktail Book" (Doomtree Press, $19.95). The title is drawn from her most recent album, Bury the Lede. In the book, she combines essays about songcraft with a drink recipe themed to each of the album's tracks. It's a really interesting approach. For the drinks, she worked with Marco Zappia, the Twin Cities barman (described herein as "beverage maverick") behind Colita and Martina—who makes "the most fun cocktails in America" according to Esquire—to develop and refine the recipes. The book is a gorgeous object as well, a slim hardback volume with stunning photography by Bill Phelps.
Aside from the wide-ranging drinks and other nuggets of lore and information sprinkled throughout the book (we'll get to those), one of my favorite parts of the book is the authorial voice; Dessa's tone is always conversational, direct, wry, and self-aware; she's knowledgeable, shares credit easily, and isn't afraid of being goofy. She begins with a paean to amateurism and its freedoms: "You get to learn only what delights you and leave the rest to the pros." In a great interview with the Minnesota Star-Tribune, she expands on this idea: "Anytime I see someone who’s excellent with what they do, I wonder if there’s any way we can work together. I’m an eager collaborator who’s most graceful when I’m collaborating with people whose skill sets are different from mine because I don’t get a chance to get territorial." Her past collaborations have led her to neuroscientists, ice cream makers, and the Minnesota Orchestra (and she's no stranger to the booze business as well, working with RockFilter Distillery on Dessa's Time and Distance organic bourbon and Dessa's Hand Shadow organic rye.)
The essays on craft provide a glimpse of how these songs and tracks come together, and tie in nicely with the drinks. For example, "Hurricane Party," the first track on Bury the Lede, was inspired by the actual hurricane parties people throw in New Orleans, hunkering down together to weather the storm:
I wrote Bury the Lede when it seemed like all the news was bad. The pandemic was tapering but still scary; the tenor of TV news felt apocalyptic; and it seemed everywhere an urgent need was going unmet. The hurricane party metaphor felt particularly apt. . .I think decency asks us to share some resources when we’ve got ’em. But also, flex and revel while you can. Being alive is a temporary state of affairs, so maybe grab a drink with bubbles in it.
As Zappia tells it, the song's opening lines, "Fill the kiddie pool/Up with prosecco" immediately suggested a sparkling drink à la the French 75, but the mention of "hurricane" and the nod to NOLA took him to the famously potent Pat O'Brien's drink. The "Hurricane Party" drink combines the two, and in a nifty little lagniappe, matches the seafoam green of the Bury the Lede cover art.
Each drink's essay and recipe are followed by another short, informative "Cocktail Crash Course" essay explaining one of the finer points of bartending. In "Hurricane Party"'s, Dessa passes on a brief description of why you shake cocktails (cooling, dilution, mixing), adds the pro tip that you can hear when you've shaken a drink long enough, and notes that drinks that will be diluted further only require a "short shake."
(Can I also add that it's so refreshing to read a drinks book that doesn't have the exact same introductory chapter on equipment and basic technique that is seemingly in almost every other cocktail book out there? They're ubiquitous, seemingly identical, and dullsville.) I also like that this book is written from the perspective of an amateur enthusiast—working along a professional drinkmaker, to be sure—but that it drops some really wide-ranging knowledge on how good drinks are made and served.
For a book that contains twelve main recipes, they cover a lot of ground and go to some interesting places. "Chopper" is a bittersweet pop song, so the drink is a pink bittersweet spritz. Pictured on the book cover, it's a variation on a Negroni Sbagliato, but adds a cucumber oleo saccharum and is garnished (if you really wanna wow your guests) with a bitters-sprayed bouquet of dried flowers. Impressive. "Tell Me Again" incorporates vodka, Calpico, nocino (and they provide a recipe for DIY nocino as well!), sake, and a sea salt rim. "I Already Like You" is a chocolate-hazelnut egg cream, which arrives with the excellent, excellent suggestion that you spike it with Amaro Montenegro. Gin Martinis make a couple appearances: batched in the freezer in "Crash," and as deconstructed jello shots in "What If I'm Not Ready." There's a coquito variation and a milk-washed tea-infused whiskey sour.
I like what they did for the "Twelve to One":
The cocktail—using the term loosely here— for this song is drawn verbatim from the second verse, so Marco cannot be held liable for its lack of sophistication.
Oreos and bourbon / I rent a movie and I watch it in bed / That’s a B+ Thursday / and the past stays asleep in my head. . .
Any of [the Oreo] varieties pairs respectably with bourbon, though I’d offer that Double Stuf evokes an air of sleepover indulgence that’s well suited to a self-administered weeknight remedy.
And the drink is simply that: a slug of bourbon and a Double Stuf Oreo. But they also drop a recipe for the "B+ Old-Fashioned," which includes Dessa's Oreo bitters and is garnished with an Oreo. These bitters are great and I'm looking forward to trying them in some other drinks, but this was a fine Old-Fashioned:
B+ Old-Fashioned
- 1¾ oz. bourbon (Dessa digs Belle Meade, RockFilter, Dickel, and High West; I used Four Roses Small Batch Select)
- 1 tsp Demerara syrup (Dessa specifies 1:1; I only had rich Demerara on hand and used that)
- 2 dashes Dessa's Oreo bitters (blend an Oreo cookie with 1½ oz. Angostura bitters, let sit for an hour, strain)
- 1 Oreo (preferably Double Stuf)
Stir all the ingredients with ice, then strain into a double Old-Fashioned glass over one large ice cube. Garnish with the Oreo.
The Strib asked Dessa and Zappia what the surprise hit was for them, and their answer was one of the most intriguing ones for me as well:
MZ: I would marry the Martini. My mistress would be the Negroni. But the “Rothko” is so much fun and surprising. That drink is coffee and Campari. You wouldn’t think those two things would be a good combo, but it’s loud and loud, and the dilution of it is super fun.
D: It’s so clever. I’m most excited for people to see the Rothko because it’s so stunning and it’s a flex – here’s two flavors that are really difficult in your imagination to combine well and in a glass are surprisingly alchemic.
Stylistically, Bury the Lede goes in many different directions: rap bangers, pop songs, playful disco-ish beats, and mood pieces. "Rothko," the album closer, starts out as a sad, disconnected song with a spare, dark groove, before dissolving into an unusual, powerful coda with layered vocal harmonies. From the book:
“There is only one thing I fear in life, my friend: One day the black will swallow the red.” That’s a quote often attributed to the painter Mark Rothko. I don’t think he actually said it, though; near as I can tell, it was written as a line for a play that chronicled his life. All the same, it knocks me out. That fear of the vital thing being snuffed out—well, it’s a reasonable one for mortals like us. . .
The pigment cadmium red, mentioned at the end of the song, is an artists’ favorite for its brilliance. But it’s also toxic—good for the painting, tough on the painter. To design the Rothko cocktail, Marco cued into the colors of the song and developed an ambitious concept of his own: a drink that changes colors as it develops. As the coffee ice melts into the crimson-colored bitter aperitivo (a dynamite flavor pairing), black finally swallows the red.
My photo is nowhere near Bill Phelps' amazing Rothkoesque depiction of the drink, but I really enjoyed this Americano variation.
Rothko
- 3 cubes coffee ice (To make coffee ice, freeze leftover brewed coffee or cold brew in ice cube trays. I used decaf.)
- 1 oz. red bitter aperitivo (we dig Campari, Aperol, or Cappelletti; I used Campari)
- 1 oz. sweet vermouth (we dig Cocchi Vermouth di Torino or Punt e Mes; I used Dolin)
- 2 oz. cold seltzer
In a Collins glass, add the coffee ice cubes, then top with regular ice cubes. Add the red bitter and the sweet vermouth. Top with seltzer and stir briefly.