It was autumn on the island. But not the island he wished he was on. That one 90 miles off the coast of Key West, back when he was making all those runs from Miami in the 80’s. Biscayne Bay, through the Devil’s Tongue, and on to Havana. He thought about what Cuba must’ve been like in its heyday. Before Castro, before the bastards turned Hemingway’s house into a museum, and before Dwight and Fidel’s pissing contest kept us from getting any good rum and cigars. Then again, if that hadn’t happened the man sitting in the corner of this bar trying to shield his eyes from the irritating neon would not have made all that money.
He thought about how he fell in love with the people on that island. He could gaslight himself into thinking he helped them. Bring in American goods, take out Colombian drugs. Sure he was bringing the drugs back to his own shore, but how many evils does it take to get to the center of a justification loop. There was that time at Mariel Harbor, too. He felt like he was doing the right thing, like it sorta reconciled his conscience. All those people wanting freedom, willing to leave it all behind to … to … to get off that island.
But he wasn’t on that island now. The one he was on was cold and windy. Pretty in its own way, though. This time of year trees in the park turned fiery orange in the sun before peppering the rust colored ground. Streetlights illuminated bright yellow leaves glowing in phosphorescent juxtaposition against boney black limbs. Even within the bubble of urban sprawl one can discern tokens of season’s change. A bit of nature reminding humanity that it’s allowing us our little plans but it can reclaim this world at any time.
He always lost himself in thought when drinking alone and pondering nature made him imagine what it must’ve been like to exist here before so called civilization. Before Verrazzano came in 1524 greeted by the Wappinger tribe. There they were, minding their own business, probably trying to stay warm and harvest for the coming winter. To them a slight drop in humidity and discoloration of flora would be that sign from nature. And they understood because her voice was louder in those times.
Then Henry Hudson would sail the length of the big river, mapping for the Dutch East India Company. In 1624 those Dutch would return and establish the colony of New Amsterdam, later renamed after the king’s brother - the Duke of York. Somewhere along the way the Dutch acquired this land formally from the Weckquaesgeek, a sect of Wappinger people. This hunting ground and trading post they called Manhattoe eventually came to be known as Manhattan.
At that he took a sip of his drink. Oh, that’s the stuff. This was the only place in the city it seemed to get decent cocktail. It’s been said that disco ruined rock n roll. Well, the 90’s ruined drinking. Here he was a few months away from a new millenium. Y2K. And a ruminating old man in the corner of the last classy joint on the island didn’t seem to fit in with appletini’s and sex on the beach. He’s had sex on the beach … not that great. There are some places sand just don’t belong.
Even the fashionable tiki bars the old time movie stars would hang out at have become tawdry vestiges of their former glory. Just as diluted by virtue of overexposure as the syrupy tripe they try to pass for Zombie’s and Mai Tai’s.
Kids have taken over drinking nowadays. Replacing low easy lambency with in your face neon and vexatious pounding they call music. Oak bars and leather chairs all painted over with cold tile and hard plastic stools. And the bartenders, he thought, fagettaboutit. Once they finish serving all the gals in the shortest skirts or lowest cut tops leaning over the bar - Bacardi Limon and cranberry, Absolut Kurant and soda (in 90’s party girl voice) - after they slide Jager shots to all their frat bros, then maybe just maybe you can get their attention long enough to ask for a cocktail they either don’t know how to make or pour from a pre-made mixer. Speakeasy? Not in those places, you’ll never get heard over the din and dither of modernity. But here? Jimmy always kept the light low in here. The wooden bartop softened with the patina of a millenia’s worth of elbows, drips, and stories.
The man walked out of the bar, straightened his fedora, and ambled down the sidewalk crunching orange leaves beneath the points of his Italian shoes. He could never have imagined after the turn of the century there would be a cocktail resurgence. A return to prohibition era drinking that would see his favorite drink come back into fashion in a big way. Not only that, but epicurean enthusiasts would fawn over high end spirits and the bootleggers would perfect their homemade hooch so much that they would be called craft distilleries.
Today we’re paying homage to a time of distinguished class and elegant debauchery with a drink whose modern influence can be gleaned behind every red phone booth or false broom closet. Places where the speak is still easy and sheets still blow thrice to the wind. Before good authors who once used better words, now only use four letter words. Where the ritz has been put on, worn away, and reapplied. A cocktail whose very name rings with heritage, progress, and aplomb. The Manhattan.
Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Tony, and this is Pod Tiki.
((.))
Sometime in the latter half of the nineteenth century, while the northern colonies relished and the southern languished with dignity, while the first wave of emancipated African-Americans proudly acknowledged the long road ahead, and a country on the mend stood on the precipice of a new century. That’s the world Lain Marshall found himself in. He also found himself mixing promethean potions behind the bar at The Manhattan Club. Organized in 1865 as the Democratic answer to the Union Club, the Manhattan Club served as more of a social entity than a specific place. Changing locations along NYC’s Fifth Avenue the club’s membership boasted the likes of Grover Cleveland, Samuel Tilden and even took up residency for a time at the home of Robert B. Roosevelt, Teddy’s uncle.
Furthermore, Dr. Lain Marshall was not even a bartender by trade. Dr. Marshall began mixing the drink for fellow guests at a gala held in honor of presidential candidate Samual Tilden. A party hosted by none other than Lady Randolph Churchill. The drink became so popular among New Yorkers at the time they took pride in ordering it by the name of the venue in which it was created - The Manhattan.
There is almost nothing as satisfying when researching cocktail history as a great story. Unfortunately, that’s all this is. Later investigations discovered that even if such a party took place there is no way it was organized or attended by Lady Churchill, as she was in London at the time, pregnant with her son, Winston.
The more likely culprit of origin is accredited to a man simply known as ‘Black’, working at the Hoffman House along Broadway in circa 1860. Little is known of Mr. Black, save he lived along Houston St and Broadway around the 1860s and is referred as the drinks inventor by William F. Mulhall, a bartender at Hoffman House for over 30 years. The only discrepancy with this story is that if Black invented the Manhattan in 1860, why did it not gain mainstream popularity in writing till the 1880s? I believe the simple answer to this is if the name Mr. “Black” was an epitaph based on one of his prominent features? Well, that might explain the apprehension in lending credence to his legacy. For, the opposite of slavery is not always freedom.
Black’s OG recipe called simply for American Whiskey, Italian Vermouth, and Bitters. During prohibition Canadian Whiskey was substituted due to supply chain issues. Apparently all the American Whiskey was held up on a barge off the coast of California. Which wasn’t even a state then making this anachronistic joke even less funny. The use of Canadian Whiskey, with its more astringent rye-like bite, may have been the origin of Rye Whiskey becoming the standard for use in a Manhattan.
In the 1884 ‘American and Other Drinks’ by Charlie Paul he gives a blend of Angostura bitters, plain syrup, liqueur glass of vermouth, Scotch, and a lemon peel. A William Schmidt recipe from 1891 adds Absinthe to his popular recipe. But alas, the modern consensus has landed on the agreed upon standard of 2 parts Rye Whiskey, 1 part Italian Sweet Vermouth, and 2 dashes of Angostura Bitters. And that, my friends, is the most satisfying part of researching cocktails - finding a recipe everyone agrees on!
With that, let’s make a drink!
((.))
Like the Daiquiri the Manhattan is one of those cocktails that, due to its simplicity, lends itself to myriad riffs. As Willie Nelson once said of writing a great country song, “All you need is three chords and the truth.” Bourbon, Sweet Vermouth, Angostura bitters. Those are our chords and we’ll find the truth after a few rounds. Today we’re not going to concern ourselves with riffs of whimsy because like with any good experiment one needs a control.
We’ll begin where I always prefer, the spirit. In this case Bourbon. As Black’s original recipe states any American Whiskey is appropriate, but something like a Tennessee Sour Mash I think has to work too hard to be seen amid the potent vermouth and bitters. Therefore I stuck with Bourbon. Luckily, there’s only two popular variants here to contend with - Kentucky straight bourbon or Rye. The only technical issue here is that if you are using a higher proof or spicier whiskey, like rye, you want to use the full amount of vermouth. Whereas when using the lighter, sweeter, straight bourbon you may choose to lessen the amount of vermouth so not to overpower your mix. Other than that it’s purely preference.
For these trials I used Rittenhouse Rye and 1792 Bourbon.
With rye there is a spicy start which mellows with the sweet vermouth leaving a finish redolent of dark cherry. One of those mixes that is so well balanced it creates a cancelling out of distinct flavors. For a dark drink it is surprisingly bright and floral while still keeping a medium to full body. I find using a straight bourbon adds sweetness while rounding off the harsher edges. A bit more depth is detected which could be due to the softer body of bourbon. It’s smoother on the palate.
In the spirit of full transparency I have to admit I generally prefer smooth straight bourbon over the hot bite of rye. But for the sake of purity I like the rye for my Manhattan as it is what the official IBA recipe calls for. I feel that paired with the right vermouth the fuller flavors of rye are integral to the balance of this cocktail.
And the correct vermouth is paramount. Before we get specific let’s do a quick refresher on vermouth. A fortified wine mixed with botanicals vermouth hails from 18th century Turin, Italy. As with most products of the vine it didn’t take long for the French to get their pretentious little fingers all up in the mix. And after all these years Italian and French remain the two distinct styles of vermouth. Historically French is the dryer white version, while Italian would be your sweeter red, or rosso, variations. Although, in this our modern day each region offers a version of red or white. Either way, a lot of people may miss the most important part of mixing with vermouth. Because it’s a wine product it’s imperative that once opened your vermouth is refrigerated.
For my experiments I used French Noilly Prat Rouge and Martini & Rossi Rosso for Italian. Keeping with the trend I found using French vermouth created a dryer, more herbaceous drink. While the Italian yielded more sweetness and balance. Fruitier and with a richer vermouth essence it complimented the rye better, but if I was using straight bourbon I may opt for the dry French. It’s all about balance.
There is such a thing as a “Dry” Manhattan made with white vermouth but it doesn’t hold up in my book. A more popular riff would be the “Perfect” Manhattan, made by splitting the vermouth between dry and sweet. The term perfect is used not to say the drink is superior in any way, but rather refers to the equal parts dry and sweet vermouths. Perfect, meaning equal in this sense.
When sipping between the versions one can understand why all the original recipes specified Italian Sweet Vermouth. It truly is the best choice for a Manhattan cocktail.
The final ingredient is Angostura bitters. A couple of dashes will do you, but I like bitters so I tend to drop a little extra in there. The Manhattan falls short of being a true cocktail by definition by virtue of it lacking sugar. Mrs Pod Tiki found that a splash of simple syrup takes the edge off the otherwise in-your-face strength of this drink. As with all home bartending trists it is up to your taste preference, but I chose to stick with the sans sugar original. So, here we go:
2 oz Rittenhouse Rye Whiskey
1 oz Martini & Rossi Rosso Sweet Red Vermouth
3 dashes Angostura Bitters
Stir in a cocktail beaker with plenty of ice till the glass begins to frost. Strain into a coup and garnish with lemon twist and a black cherry. If so inclined, allow some of the cherry juice to drop into the glass.
A note on stirring vs shaking. Juices, milk, cream, or eggs should always be shaken into a libation. This adds dilution, yes, but more importantly it aerates and binds the components. It also tends to cloud. Therefore, in a drink without those ingredients, like this one, stirring is the preferred method of preparation. It adds necessary dilution while rendering a smooth, silky texture that remains clear and resplendent.
I also want to add that the Manhattan experience pairs splendidly with a fine cigar. I suggest the Perdomo ESV Sun Grown, La Galera Habano, or for a more elegant and refined choice, something from the Aviator series by Principal Cigars.
((.))
The Manhattan has been an essential part of the craft cocktail resurgence. Though it may take a backseat to its more popular cousin, the Old Fashioned, the Manhattan is not just a throwback, but a celebration of how far we’ve come in rediscovering and luxuriating the timeless tipples of yore. For before Donn Beach created his rum rapsodies, the likes of Mr. Black were laying the foundation with three chords and the truth. The truth, in this case, being that next time you’re at your favorite speakeasy or cigar lounge, holding court with epicurean guests, or simply winding down with that special someone, take a moment to let your mind drift off to a different time. A time when these classic cocktails were new and exciting. A time when people absconded from reality to a dimly lit leather chair or polished oak bartop, laughed about the vicissitudes of life with good friends, and dared to writhe in love. Just like we all still do.
Credits: Cocktailsforyou.com, imbibe.com, liquor.com, tastecocktails.com, wikipedia.com.