We talk a lot about escapism on this podcast, Hell, I talk about escapism at nauseum in my regular life, much to my wife’s chagrin. Which cafe, tiki bar, or cigar lounge has the right ambiance? Where’s the next getaway going to be? When can I carve out a few hours on the porch with my thoughts, and which rum to perfectly match the weather and occasion? Even the ideas of adorning the patio with tropical plants, or decorating my writing area like a Hemingway study, both versions of escapism.
My favorite kind of escapism is what my wife has dubbed, method living. My old joke when I was young and brooding was, “If I was a better writer I could make things up, instead I have to make things happen.” I was always good at chameleoning in; becoming whatever it was I needed or wanted to be. A much milder version of Hunter S. Thompson’s Gonzo Journalism. It’s a method of coping that has helped me greatly in life get past my shy, introverted nature. Wherever you go, act like you’re supposed to be there.
The problem was the places I was going. I became what I heard in Johnny Cash and Waylon Jennings songs. What I saw in shows like Californication. Who I read about in Hemingway, Kerouac, and Bukowski novels. Edgar Allen Poe, Oscar Wilde, and James Joyce were my prophets. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Douchebag, you might call me.
Speaking of spirituality? I returned to Catholicism, while investigating Buddhism, Judaism, and philosophy. I would like to say I was able to repel down mount pious, but eventually it took my friends literally shoving off.
Probably the healthiest and most functional escapism I now practice was recommended to me by my friend Kyle. I will never forget it. Hemingway once wrote that being a writer is extremely lonely. That was made vividly apparent to me when the romance of the lifestyle became a poor excuse for bad behavior. I was quite in a state of dislocated depression when Kyle said one very simple sentence to me, “Find something that makes you happy.”
Home. I was missing Florida very much. Not just my family and friends, but the listless tropical lifestyle. After 7 landlocked years my distance from the ocean became as oppressive as the colorless skies and black barren trees of TN winters. For solace I dove into Jimmy Buffett and Bob Marley, which led me down a rabbit hole to all kinds of musical discoveries. I read Don’t Stop the Carnival and even found new life in my old idols like Thompson’s Rum Diary. My loves like Hemingway and Bogart had ties to the Caribbean. So, I began traveling. First home for solo weekend retreats to Cocoa Beach. Then to Amelia Island and Destin. Eventually finding my way to Jamaica, Mexico, Hawaii, and my favorite - Havana, Cuba.
I found a new version of escapism, of method living. By embracing the tropical lifestyle in my blood my mind was expanded in ways one can’t learn from classic novels and morose poetry. Even decked out my little bungalow in Nashville to look like a beachside cabin. And it was then I fell in love with another vehicle for escapism - rum.
But why do we love escapism? The benefits of literally escaping, as in vacation, are self-evident. Rest and rejuvenation, garnering new experiences, visiting loved ones, or simply reminding us who we truly are when away from stress, apart from the heavy doldrums of responsibility. How long does it take for you? For me it’s about 3 days. 3 days away from the banality or normal to forget the pressures of life. It’s like being a kid again. No expectations of who I’m supposed to be, imbued with a child’s excitement for tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow creeping in this petty pace from day to day.
Being away is like forced freedom. I liken it to being stuck on a flight. I’ve done some of my best work on planes because there’s nothing else to do. No laundry, no friends calling to go out, no beautiful wife lovingly reminding me of everything I need to help her do instead of sitting on the back porch with a cigar. No distractions and nothing that even can be done if I wanted to. Like how your mind wanders when mowing the lawn or doing dishes. Being on vacation is like that. There’s no other choice but to have fun.
Then there’s the virtues of mental escapism. Sitting alone with one’s thoughts, reading, listening to music, meditation, and yes, hanging out at that local tiki bar pretending you’re on some faraway exotic island. Even here in Nashville. As troves of Bachelorette parties and plaid adorned tourists ebb and flow through downtown bars like a neon tide it’s easy to let the mind drift to another place in time. A time when Hank’s moanin’ blues echoed through the Ryman and mamas didn’t want their babies to grow up to be cowboys. I believe in the catharsis and health benefits of mentally checking out every so often to allow your mind to defragment.
Unfortunately, that oftentimes leads to the more untoward side of escapism. For some, margaritas on the beach don’t do the trick. They conflate escapism with running away. Much like going to church every Sunday, escapism only works if you take what you’ve learned back to reality and put it in practice. Breaking the tether to reality can result in neglect, justification, nihilism, and wretched addiction. A bit of folly chasing death. In other words, escape by misadventure.
Beat philosopher Alan Watts explained how one cannot rigidly hold to every planned moment, branches that bend in the wind will survive the storm. Also, one cannot never plan; Having no motivation and being no help to society. Where on the spectrum is healthy for you, is for you to decide. Escapism is like that. It works as long as you don’t abuse it.
But what about those who found that balance? The ones who live it. Those who actually managed to escape.
Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Tony, Welcome to Pod Tiki.
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Take Jimmy Buffett, for instance. Here’s a man who balked at the conventional trappings of social expectation. He didn’t set out to be the parrot-headed paragon of party we know and love today. He grew up the grandson of a sailboat captain along the gulf coast, cut his musical teeth as a street musician in New Orleans, ditched Nashville to all but single handedly reinvent Key West, and found a protean home amid the calamitous Caribbean. All this before the song Margaritaville was even written. Then came the seaplanes, sailboats, and island hopping adventures. The lifestyle didn’t create Jimmy Buffett, Jimmy Buffett created the lifestyle. Anytime you abscond to a Margaritaville bar or resort, or even just pop that Buffett record on in the backyard, you’re escaping to a snapshot of his real life.
There’s a story of Buffett and his producer sitting on a boat docked in Florida listening to a demo of the new album, I think it was Changes in Latitudes…. The songs ringing out from the stereo across the deck carried on a tropical breeze seemed to fit the scenery and feel perfectly. Like the music was made for that specific moment. Then Jimmy said something to the effect of, what if this was being played on every boat in the harbor? The seeds of an empire were planted. His own style of life became a lifestyle.
He never had to escape because his talent, business acumen, and wayward spirit allow him a life others want to escape to. Reminds me of a sticker I saw stuck behind the bar at Tin Roof when I first moved to Nashville. It said simply, “Your vacation-My Life.”
On the other hand there’s someone who literally built the world he imagined purely for the escapist benefit of others. Walt Disney knew exactly what he was doing - building a world to fully immerse oneself in the fantastical. Disney World is not just an idea, but a real life physical place you can go. Where you’re not just escaping from a world, but to a world. Some might say a whole new world. A world where you can actually ride through space mountain, or down splash mountain. Heck, that fact that he created so many mountains in Florida is a feat unto itself! And the unique thing about what Walt did, is that he made escapism for children.
I know what you’re thinking, what do kids need to escape from? I believe it’s a bit different. For kids escapism is more about exploring what could be. Eschewing the boundaries put in place by what they’re told reality is. For decades Disney has offered kids escapism into an altruistic neverland where the good guy wins and anyone can be a princess, or not, if that’s what you’re into. Through life imitating art we’ve already begun to see rising tides raise all ships. Kids expecting the world to be better, will grow up to make it better. If those kids are fortunate enough to make it to a theme park they get to see that Walt’s dreams did come true, and perhaps they’ll think, “Maybe my dreams can come true, too!”
There’s one epicurean escape artist that is specifically prevalent to our preferred passion. The promethean godfather of tiki and rumgenuity. Mr. Ernest Gantt, better known as Donn Beach - proprietor of Don the Beachcomber’s.
This world was a new one. A world in which no one had trod. A life where nascent frivolity ran supreme and trial reigned over error. In a world… where one man created a realm, a realm of perceived exotica where a man was king of somewhere hot and woman slinked blithely in sensual disregard for sociosexual norms. Before the untoward slouching toward indiscriminate debauchery ran rampant amid Holly-wierd, and holy-wired unwound depravity played paradigm among paladins of paradimsal progenitors. This was Don the Beachcomber’s world.
Ernest Gantt grew up spending summers cruising the Caribbean on his grandfather’s yacht, earning extra cash with a little rum-running. Depositing rum in Key West from ports the likes of Haiti and Cuba, Ernest caught the tropical adventure bug while concurrently learning all about the local spirits and cocktails unique to each island. Out on his own Ernie heard the siren call of the sea once again, hopping around the South Pacific as a crewman on freighter ships. It was here he became what Jeff Berry calls a lifelong Polynesiac. But, we’ll get to that.
The enterprising young man that he was, armed with an extensive knowledge of rum and tropical culture, Ernest gathered his vast collection of exotic ephemera and opened Don’s Beachcomber in Hollywood, CA in 1933 the literal day after prohibition ended. Two name changes soon happened. Don’s Beachcomber bar became Don The Beachcomber, and Ernest Gantt, fully embracing his persona, legally changed his name to Donn Beach.
Throughout the 1930’s and 40’s exotica exploded along the west coast. The proverbial guestlist of Don the Beachcomber’s read like a who’s who of Hollywood elites. Orson Welles, Howard Hughes, Charlie Chaplin, Clarke Gable, Bing Crosby and the illustrious suave Errol Flynn were just a few of the regulars. Then, Elvis happened. The release of Blue Hawaii in 1961 coupled with Kennedy’s travel ban to Cuba exacerbated by the thirsty proclivities of a nation less than thirty years removed from prohibition and, well … Tiki!
But don’t mistake Donn Beach for some industrious upstart attempting to capitalize on a nascent trend. A trend he started by the way. No, Donn never exploited Polynesian culture just to turn a coin. On the contrary, he was the ultimate fanboy. Along his travels he collected all manner of ephemera and exotic detritus, which he proudly displayed throughout the bar. He was no dummy either. Donn knew how to tap into the most primal facets of American culture - intrigue, fear of missing out, and escapism.
This is the part of Donn’s story I am most fascinated with. The world building aspect. He collected all of these trinkets and memories and knowledge from different places, sometimes vastly diametric in geography and culture, and he curated them into his vision of an exotic paradise. Replete with Polynesian artifacts and tropical flora Don the Beachcomber’s ambiance was all about transporting guests to a perceived paradise. Complete with a manufactured rainstorm hammering a tin roof for effect. Adding to the exotic effect, drinks were often made in the kitchen area rather than behind the bar delivered to the bartender through a small curtained window.
Remember this was a time before internet and the ubiquity of air travel. Even those Americans not well traveled had been well acquainted with the Caribbean since the colonial era, but Papua New Guinea, Fiji, Easter Island, Southeast Asia? These were far away places full of mystery and mystique. Hell, Hawaii had just become a state in 1959. Think about that, my dad was going into high school when Hawaii became a state!
The Tiki diaspora spread across the U.S. spawning new genres of music, subsequent copycat bars with their own unique takes, spin-offs, collectables, clothing, tourism, (ahem) podcasts, and a prolific devoted community which subsists to this day carrying on the legacy of the man, the myth, the legend who started it all - Don the Beachcomber.
And there’s another thing Donn never exploited but rather used to spark the promethean flame of Tiki … rum. More specifically what I have dubbed as his rumgenuity. While domestic distilleries and European imports bounced back post prohibition there was one spirit that could be easily obtained from our neighbors in the West Indies. You see, the most valuable lesson Donn would learn from his Caribbean cavorting was the differences in rum styles from region to region. A Kentucky bourbon is going to taste relatively similar to another Kentucky bourbon. The same goes for gin, brandy, or vodka, respectively. But a pot still Jamaican rum, with its heavy molasses funk, tastes vastly different from an herbaceous Martinique Rhum Agricole, which in turn bares little resemblance to a light crisp Puerto Rican rum. While not the first person to experiment with different rums, Donn Beach was the first to combine two or more different rums in one drink to create new tertiary flavors. A unique experience only Tiki offered. He called these concoctions his Rhum Rhapsodies. Even if rum wasn’t from Polynesia, these new mixes were indeed exotic to the American palate and only aided in lending credence to the far away mystery of Don the Beachcomber.
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So, what exactly is a rhum rhapsody? What was the big deal, and how did Donn use this formula to create some of the most infamous tiki drinks in history?
Much like any good artist Donn Beach made a career out of complicating things. There are two main templates for building tropical cocktails, the daiquiri and the punch. Both start with what Jeff Berry calls the holy trinity - rum, lime juice, and sugar. The standard daiquiri. Then there’s the old punch idiom. One of sour, two of sweet, three of strong, four of weak. Check out our Planter’s Punch episode for more on that.
Donn worked mostly off punches while pressing the status quo. Why use only lime juice? How about adding grapefruit. What if we cut the sweet simple syrup with cinnamon and grenadine? Falurnum compliments the strong, the sweet, and the sour. You know what’s mighty tasty? Mixing dark Jamaica rum with an amber Puerto Rican and a dash of overproof Demerara from Guyana. Throw in a little Angostura and Herbsaint for bitter notes and he transformed a standard punch recipe into his most famous libation. The Zombie!
Donn cherished these recipes so much that not even his own bartenders really knew the ingredients. He would pre-mix certain ingredients labeled as Don’s Mix #4 or Don’s Gardenia Mix. Some were self-explanatory like Don’s Honey, or Herbstura - a 1:1 mix of Herbsaint and Angostura Bitters. In other cases these mixes were privy to only a handful of trusted associates. These would take decades to uncover. Like the simply labeled “Don’s Mix” necessary to recreate his original Zombie. A mix of 2 parts white grapefruit juice to 1 part cinnamon syrup. Donn’s incredulity here didn’t just add a layer of intrigue for the guests, but ensured that bartenders poached by competitors couldn’t recreate his drinks elsewhere.
This is Don the Beachcomber’s legacy, but it’s not the end of his story. His empire expanded, he married, divorced, and reinvented his brand in Hawaii. There’s plenty more to get to about Ernest Gantt, the man who invented Tiki, and we’ll get there someday. But I felt this story necessary today to lead into one of my favorite cocktails. A drink that I think perfectly exemplifies Don The Beachcomber’s ability behind the bar. A drink born out of punch, deconstructed to a daiquiri, and influenced by the American cocktail. A libation that goes under utilized while remaining undeterred in its heritage. Those of us comfortable with our exotica dalliance are on a sort of mission to prove to the world how difficult and divinely epicurean Tiki can be. And in this drink Donn made Tiki classy. Today we make the Island of Martinique Cocktail.
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The Island of Martinique Cocktail is a perfect gustatory masterpiece. Everything in this recipe comes together flawlessly. In fact, the flavors of aged rhum agricole and honey fit together so seamlessly it’s like they were meant for each other. I cannot understand why this simple classic is not on more menus. It truly is the nectar of the tiki gods.
Little is known regarding Donn’s process in creating this drink save it made its debut circa 1948 and initially began as a ‘Ti Punch strained into a cocktail glass. Over time it was totally tikified using Donn’s method of simply complicating things. That is, use a myriad of ingredients that all compliment each other. He would use the rhyming punch recipe but then distill it down to basically a fancy daiquiri as exemplified in this quote from a vintage Don the Beachcomber menu explaining the Island of Martinique Cocktail. “Lusty Martinique rums aged in casks for 120 moons, subtly combined with Falernum, wild honey, Angostura bitters, and Maui Mountain limes.”
This is an uncharacteristic fit of honesty for the man who literally had his drinks made behind a curtain. Tiki historian Jeff Berry acquired this detailed recipe from ex-Beachcomber bartender Tony Ramos. So, without further ado, the Island of Martinique Cocktail is:
1 ½ oz Gold Rhum Agricole Vieux
½ oz fresh Lime Juice
½ oz Falernum
¼ oz Don’s Honey
2 dashes Angostura Bitters
3 oz Crushed Ice
Put it all in a blender and blend on high for exactly 5 seconds. Then fine strain into a chilled coupe or cocktail glass.
As a refresher, Rhum Agricole is a spirit distilled from pressed cane juice rather than molasses. As we covered in the ‘Ti Punch episode France, and therefore the French Caribbean islands, are the only ones to hold rhum production to an official standard. The Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée, or AOC. Cane juice rhums are made throughout the Caribbean islands including Haiti, Guadalupe, Trinidad and Mauritius, but only rhums from Martinique are held to the strict guidelines of the AOC. For this recipe I use Clement VSOP. While the Select Barrel is my usual go-to for mixing the VSOP is much more refined and ads to the elegant rich notes and silky texture of this drink. It makes it more of a cocktail than a drink.
Falernum is a liqueur out of Barbados made by adding island spices such as clove, allspice, or ginger to a base spirit or light rum. Not to be confused with Falernum syrup which is a non-alcoholic sweetener with similar characteristics. The industry standard here is John T. Taylor’s Velvet Falernum, described as such due to the smooth feeling on the palate. I find it very delicious and I use it as a staple in much of my original concoctions. A little Falernum can instantly turn any drink into a tiki party.
Lime juice and Angostura bitters are pretty self-explanatory. Just make sure the limes are fresh squeezed. The OG recipe only calls for one dash of bitters but I find two dashes necessary to get any flavor. And I just love bitters anyway.
Lastly, we have Don’s Honey. I went over this in the last episode on Navy Grog. It’s simply a honey simple syrup. I usually do a 1:1 ratio, but Jeff Berry insists that Don’s recipe was 2 parts clover honey to 1 part water and boil. I generally prefer my drinks less sweeter, but honey is a prevalent ingredient here to obtain the perfect profile. I find 2:1 a bit overpowering to the agricole but I suspect it depends on the honey used. Berry suggests regular clover honey, I like to use wildflower. Also, Clement VSOP is pretty smooth and the grassy agricole notes are toned down. When using a rhum with a stronger flavor perhaps 2:1 is necessary. I use 1:1 for my drinks.
When put together the Island of Martinique Cocktail boasts such a unique but well balanced flavor profile it’s hard to imagine it took Donn very long to realize he had a winner on his hands. And in the hands of troves of thirsty wayward escapists piling into Don the Beachcomber for decades. I blame the limited availability of agricole rhums on the consumer market for the decline in notoriety of this drink. Perhaps through efforts such as this we can change that.
Sweet grass with honey on the finish, this drink is redolent of my spring time as a boy in New York state. My mom taught me how to whistle through blades of grass, imagine that taste on your lips then taking a sip of sun tea. The balance tows the line between tropical sipper and true cocktail. Don took a punch recipe, chilled it into a daiquiri, and by adding ice and bitters essentially made it into the definition of a true cocktail. The lime and honey truly bring the agricole forward while mellowing out any alcohol bite. An upright alright rich silky simply complex tropically classy libation.
You may have noticed all the alcohol in the Island of Martinique Cocktail. Yes, it will creep up on you with a happy euphoric buzz. This is my standard start the night tiki drink because besides being super tasty it coats the palate in flavor and offers up a distinct buzz that just makes me wanna put some tunes on and practice my moonwalk.
But, there is one other recipe I need to touch on. Shannon Mustipher’s Isle of Martinique. This is the only other viable variation I’ve found. Shannon leans more into the daiquiri aspect of the drink. In her version the tart lime and orgeat play center stage and although the agricole is profound, it’s not as forward. The Isle has much in common with the Island, but has noticeable differences. First in color. The Isle is a more flaxen gold contrasted to the Island’s rusty amber hue. If these were side by side I still prefer the OG but her recipe is nothing to be scoffed at. Mrs Pod Tiki actually likes the daiquiri version better. So, here it is. The Isle of Martinique:
2 oz Rhum Agricole Vieux
½ oz Honey Syrup
¼ oz Orgeat
¾ oz Lime Juice
Shake with ice and fine strain into a coupe or cocktail glass. Garnish with citrus wheel or orchid.
More lemon-grass tart and lighter with less depth this drink is agricole/orgeat forward for sure, but with the light crispness of a down island daiquiri. Using a bright orgeat is key to this drink. I prefer Latitude 29 for all my orgeat needs. Liber & Co, popular as it is, is veeeeeery sweet and I think takes away from the delicate balance necessary for true tiki drinks. It’s not bad at all and I have a bottle in my fridge right now. It’s got quite a nice almond flavor but is just so overbearingly sweet I feel it ads a cloying sugar bite. While not ideal for the Beachcomber version, the sweet bite is perfect for this bright crisp daiquiri.
I hope you all try both of these recipes and let me know your thoughts, because this is truly one of my all time favorite drinks. And as far as escapism goes, I think we can all use a little. In light of the pandemic let’s not forget the lessons we’ve learned regarding work/life balance. Mainly that it shouldn’t be a perfect balance. There should be more life than work. I’m not saying don’t work, only that a good quality of life is important. In whatever way that means for you.
Entitlement isn’t a bad word. I don’t believe in the relentless pursuit of happiness, I believe in achieving happiness. Take for instance the current labor shortage, maybe everyone just happened to get lazy at the same time, or maybe folks have just decided to demand modern standard of living wages that allow us to spend time with our loved ones. To explore our passions. To live in a world where we can all travel to exotic places, experience new food, drink, and cultures. Maybe our own journey can inspire a generation the way Don the Beachcomber did. Or, maybe an afternoon in a tiki bar is all we need to remind us why we do it.
Escapism can be a useful tool, a stepping stone on the way to making dreams a reality no matter how paltry or grandiose they may be. So that, perhaps, we could live in a world we no longer want to escape from.
Ladies and gentlemen this has been Pod Tiki. My name is tony. Thank you all for listening.
Credits: Special thanks to Potions of the Caribbean by Jeff “Beachbum” Berry. Tiki: Modern Tropical Cocktails by Shannon Mustipher.
