
seen from Egypt

seen from Türkiye
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from Türkiye

seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Indonesia
seen from China

seen from Germany
CHOCOLATE WINE (1723)
Happy New Year! Now back in Germany, my husband and I are enjoying our Christmas decorations for one last weekend before taking them down. Meanwhile, we wanted to sip on this warm and wintery Tasting History (or rather, Drinking History) recipe: Chocolate Wine from 1723. The recipe comes from The Cooks and Confectioners Dictionary: Or, the Accomplish’d Housewives Companion by John Nott, who was the chief cook for a string of English aristocrats including the Dukes of Somerset, Ormond, and Bolton, and the Lords Lansdowne and Ashburnham. Drinking chocolate was all the rage in England in the 18th century, and the drink was consumed in a variety of public chocolate houses. One of these houses was owned by Thomas and Grace Tosier. Their chocolate house became well-known, to the point that King George I hired Thomas Tosier to work in his royal chocolate kitchen. This special kitchen at Hampton Court Palace, devoted only to the production of chocolate, was rediscovered in 2013 by a curator, and can now be visited by the public. While none of the Tosiers' original chocolate recipes survive, to our knowledge, this recipe from 1723 could be similar, since it is of the time. As someone who does not like coffee, I am a frequent hot chocolate consumer, and I am so curious to try it put together with another drink I love: port wine. Time to turn my kitchen into a royal chocolate kitchen! See Max’s video on how to make this dish here or see the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from his website.
My experience making it:
Since just my husband and I are partaking, I halved the recipe. For the chocolate, I used 60% dark chocolate nibs - I couldn't find unsweetened chocolate at the grocery store, so I opted to use slightly less sugar (about 10g less) in order to accommodate for the extra sweetness in the chocolate. Since I am not a fan of sherry, I decided to use port for the wine, specifically Astrada Tawny Port, since I didn't have a ruby port on hand and tawny is still on the red, sweet side.
To start, I measured out the required ingredients, then poured the tawny port into a saucepan. Next, I poured in the sugar in and whisked until I couldn't feel any more granules beneath, meaning the sugar had dissolved well into the port. At this point, the port was still a dark red wine colour, no longer translucent but opaque. For the next instruction, I didn't realize it said to sift the flour into the port until I had already whisked in a couple clumps. Luckily, with some vigorous whisking, I was able to break them up before sifting in the rest of the flour. The mixture had now taken on a lighter, dark magenta colour. I added the dark chocolate nibs in next, not bothering to chop them up further since they were already pretty small, and I figured they would melt fairly quickly anyway. Putting the the saucepan over the stove on medium heat, I whisked constantly for about five minutes while the chocolate melted in. The drink began to take on a deep maroon colour, and it was beginning to smell wonderful, mostly of chocolate. When the drink finally reached a simmer, I continued whisking for just under ten minutes more before taking the saucepan off the heat. Still stirring while it cooled a bit, the drink thickened just slightly once it was off the heat. Hoping it wouldn't thicken to a pudding-like texture, I quickly poured the drink into our Christmas market mugs, just the right size for a small, cozy tipple.
My experience tasting it:
My husband and I tucked into our mugs straight away to try the chocolate wine while it was still hot (but not too hot). The texture was certainly much thicker than a modern hot chocolate, but it was not so thick as to become gloopy, chunky, or wiggly like pudding. It was actually silky smooth! The taste was oh so rich and decadent, I had to go get a glass of water to drink alongside the chocolate wine in order to balance out the strong flavour. It was still very delicious, however: the dark chocolate was in the forefront with its sumptuous and thick sweetness, and that was directly followed by the more acidic sweetness of the port, ending with the light, sensual bite of the alcohol. It was like a drink version of a chocolate raisin dipped in port. Each sip was so full of flavour and texture that I wanted to savour it slowly, but this was not a good idea, because the drink was thickening with every second. By the time we were halfway done our mugs, the chocolate wine had become a thicker drink, and the chocolate was beginning to stick together into very small clumps. To solve this, I added some water: just enough to return the drink to its original texture. This had great results not only for the texture, but also for the flavour, as the chocolate wine became less powerfully decadent and more of an enjoyable, balanced drink to sip on more consistently. Overall, I quite enjoyed the chocolate wine, but unfortunately my husband couldn't say the same. It was simply a bit too rich for him - he winced with each sip due to the strong sweetness, following sour taste, and ending of alcohol. While it was an interesting experiment to try, and I would be interested to try different ratios, types of chocolate, or types of port in this recipe, I probably will not try making something like this for quite a while. The changing texture was difficult to deal with, and I can imagine it would only become more difficult in larger batches. I can only wonder whether the Tosiers' drinking chocolate recipes contained solutions to such challenges. Either way, it was a fascinating and decadent start to 2026. If you end up making this dish, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!
Chocolate Wine original recipe (1723)
Sourced from a recipe in The Cooks and Confectioners Dictionary: Or, the Accomplish’d Housewives Companion by John Nott (1723) and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.
To make Wine Chocolate Take a Pint of Sherry, or a Pint and half of red port, four Ounces and a half of Chocolate, six Ounces of fine Sugar, and half an ounce of white Starch, or fine Flour; mix, dissolve, and boil all these as before. But if your Chocolate be with Sugar, take double the Quantity of Chocolate, and half the Quantity of Sugar; and so in all.
Modern Recipe
Based on a recipe from The Cooks and Confectioners Dictionary: Or, the Accomplish’d Housewives Companion by John Nott (1723) and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.
Ingredients:
750 ml ruby port or 2 cups (475 ml) sherry
Heaping 3/4 cup (170 g) sugar
2 tbsp (14 g) flour
4 1/2 oz (130 g) unsweetened chocolate, grated or chopped finely
Method:
Pour the port or sherry into a medium saucepan. Whisk in the sugar a little at a time until the sugar is mostly dissolved.
Sift in the flour and whisk until it’s incorporated, then stir in the chocolate.
Set the saucepan over medium heat and bring it to a simmer, whisking constantly. Continue to whisk and simmer it, reducing the heat if it starts bubbling too much, for 10 more minutes.
Remove the saucepan from the heat and let it sit, stirring occasionally, until it’s cool enough to drink. It will thicken a bit more as it cools and will form a skin if you don’t stir once in a while.
Serve it forth warm in wine glasses or mugs.
FAREWELL TO HEMINGWAY COCKTAIL (1937)
Holding on to the dregs of summer, I thought I would treat myself and a friend to another historical cocktail recipe from The Gentleman’s Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book, Or, Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask by Charles Henry Baker Jr., published originally in 1939. This original recipe titled Farewell to Hemingway, was concocted by Baker, a long-time friend of Ernest Hemingway, in Coconut Grove, FL one January night in 1937. Hemingway and his bullfighting friend, Sidney Franklin, were en route to Madrid, where Hemingway would report on the Spanish Civil War. Since Hemingway was known to love kirschwasser, Baker put together this summery cocktail in his honour. Ever the fan of cherry-flavoured anything and keen to try a drink concocted for the first time in the presence of the famed writer himself, I knew this had to be the next recipe we tried from this very interesting book of cocktails. See the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from Charles Henry Baker Jr.’s book.
My experience making it:
My lovely German friend brought some high-quality kirschwasser for us to use in the cocktail. We decided to make the original cherry version of this drink, and I bought some Polish sour cherry syrup (which I think is normally used to make juice, similar to Ribena). The limes I bought were fairly small, so we decided to use two per cocktail instead of the called for 'one big green lime'. For lack of collins glasses, I just used regular, large, clear IKEA glasses - definitely less nice to look at, but functional. Since Club Soda is hard to find under that name in Germany, I just used San Pellegrino sparkling mineral water, which I have heard is close. Also, I only had crushed ice on hand instead of ice cubes.
I began by squeezing the limes to create the lime juice necessary. Filling the cocktail shaker with what I eyeballed to be roughly the amount of crushed ice needed to make up 4 ice cubes, I then measured out the kirschwasser and cherry syrup and tossed them in. Adding in the lime juice, I shook the shaker intensely for about ten seconds. I poured the contents out into the serving glass without straining, then topped the drink up with club soda, a few centimetres away from the top of the glass. While I did this, my friend created the perfect little lime spirals to use as garnish. We made one more cocktail in the same way and settled down with our drinks at the table full of snacks. The drink itself was a wonderful fuchsia colour, with the lime peel's pop of green making the drink look like a summer flower! Of course, we both mused this cocktail would look much nicer in the called-for collins glass. The ice was clinking and there were bubbles rising - the cocktail felt very lively!
My experience tasting it:
After a little "Prost!", we took our first sips. We were quite surprised at how sour the cocktail was! Not sure if we had gone a little too overboard with the lime juice, or whether we should have used a different type of cherry syrup without 'sour' in the title, we both agreed it needed more sweetness. Otherwise however, it was a very lovely cocktail - refreshing, cold, summery, just slightly cherry-flavoured, and just noticeably alcoholic. Without honey in the house and not wanting to add that granular texture that sugar normally brings, we opted to use my one true love - real Canadian maple syrup, which, in my opinion, goes well with just about anything. It did the trick and balanced out the cocktail nicely, but you could most definitely taste the new maple-y flavour in there! Overall I would probably make this cocktail again, but be a bit more careful with the ratio of sweet to sour. I would probably suggest tasting this one after shaking and before serving to see if it needs a bit more lime juice or a bit more cherry syrup. It was an interesting literary-inspired cocktail overall, and very much drinkable. However, we only opted to have one before switching to our favourite pink gin and tonic. If you end up making this drink, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!
Mint Julep No. IV from Santiago de Cuba original recipe (1939)
Sourced from The Gentleman’s Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book, Or, Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask by Charles Henry Baker Jr. (1939).
A Farewell to Hemingway, Being a Sort of Kirsch Collins We Invented on the Night We Saw Hemingway and Bullfighter Sidney Franklin off on the Plane for New York, & Loyalist Spain There is no reason to this drink. It just happened because Ernest prefers kirschwasser, and it was a muggy, half-breathless sort of night. The cherry syrup sweet, of course, can be varied to taste.... Take 1 1/2 jiggers of kirsch, 1/4 pony of cherry syrup - again the drug store kind - and the juice of 1 big green lime. Shake this mixture with 4 ice cubes, turn ice and all into a collins glass of at least 14 oz capacity, drop in a spiral peel of green lime, and fill the glass not quite full with good, chilled club soda.... We've later found that raspberry syrup is very decent, also.
Modern Recipe
Based on the recipe from The Gentleman’s Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book, Or, Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask by Charles Henry Baker Jr. (1939).
Ingredients:
Crushed ice
1.5 jiggers (60 ml) kirschwasser
1/4 jigger (10 ml) cherry or raspberry syrup
The juice from one large lime
1 long spiral peel of lime
Method:
Set up a 14 oz tall collins glass.
In a cocktail shaker, add 4 ice cubes, the kirschwasser, the cherry/raspberry syrup, and the lime juice in and shake for at least 10 seconds.
Pour all contents, including ice and without straining, into the collins glass.
Top up the glass, not quite to the top, with club soda.
Add the spiral peel of lime to garnish.
Serve it forth!
THE BAVARIAN BRIDEGROOM'S CUP (1939)
Summer weather has already arrived, and my confidence has increased along with my mood! So, for the first time, I will stray from the Tasting History recipes and make a "drinking history" recipe I found on my own: the Bavarian Bridegroom's Cup. The recipe for this cocktail comes from a wonderful copy of a book originally published in 1939 called The Gentleman's Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book, Or, Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask. Part travelogue, part memoir, and part instruction manual for budding bon vivants, the author, Charles Henry Baker Jr. (1895-1987) was an American who traveled the world during Prohibition in search of exotic food and drink recipes for magazines including Esquire, Gourmet, and Town & Country. He is known for almost singlehandedly importing 'exotic' foreign drinks onto menus across the United States long before mass market jet travel. His writings are fondly regarded not only for his detailed recipes but also for his colourful and often moving anecdotes recalling interesting times and places drinking and dining with companions like Faulkner, Hemingway, and Errol Flynn. His marriage to mining heiress Pauline Paulsen helped finance his travels and work. This recipe being my first to try and make from this fascinating book (which I received as a gift from a lovely friend with whom I would share this cocktail), I made sure it was one whose ingredients looked delicious and fresh - hopefully tasty. The Bavarian Bridegroom's Cup is a cocktail which Baker describes as stemming from "the Gay Days when There Was Time in which to Live a Life - & Laugh, & Love, & Sing, & Dance, in Middle Europe," in what I think is a clear longing for pre-World War II Europe and the light-heartedness it had. Baker also states he got this recipe from the Bavarian husband of a friend on the evening of their wedding, hence the name. See the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from Charles Henry Baker Jr.'s book.
My experience making it:
Since I was meeting two friends in the park to make this recipe in open air, we each pitched in on bringing a few ingredients. One friend brought the kirschwasser, one friend the crushed ice and mint, and I brought the wine and sugared strawberries. For the wine, we first tried it with a Rhine Riesling (unfortunately a dry Riesling, which did affect the final product in the end), and then we tried it with a sweet rosé wine. I decided to double the recipe as given by Baker.
Since we were bringing all the ingredients with us to the park, I thought it would be easiest to make the sugared strawberries before leaving so that I could bring them in a safe container. I chopped off the stems, crushed them with a potato masher just until they were no longer strawberry-shaped, then sprinkled the sugar overtop. I mixed until the sugar was integrated and coating all the strawberries, then poured the sugared strawberries into a container safe for travel. I packed a large bag with eveything I would need: picnic blanket, plastic cups, the pre-chilled wine, a spoon, a ladle, and a large "punch bowl" (which was just my large mixing bowl since I don't have Baker's suggestion: "the biggest crystal goblet we can find"). I met my two friends on the grass and we set up our spot in the partial sun and partial shade (being sure to keep the ice in the shade).
I first poured the big bowl about 1/3 full with crushed ice, then poured in the entire bottle of Riesling. Unfortunately, one friend had forgotten to bring her jigger, so I eyeballed the measurements for the kirschwasser - not quite sure if I was over or under in my estimation. I gave it a light stir with my silver-coloured spoon, since I don't own a silver spoon (this Baker guy is fancy!). By the way Baker had written his instructions, I couldn't tell if he meant that the large bowl should be 'garnished' with the sugared strawberries and mint, or if each glass poured should be. I decided he meant the former. I spooned in about half of the strawberries (I had prepared 2 pints worth so we could make a second round if we wanted later). I thought they would sit neatly on top like a garnish, but instead they sank to the bottom and didn't seem to mix in much at all, so I decided to give it a more vigorous stir with the spoon. This helped integrate the strawberry pulp a little better into the drink. Adding just a bit of mint on top, we called the drink finished, and we were ready to serve it! It had a lovely, pale, summer yellow colour, with pretty pops of red and green from the strawberries and mint - perfect for a sunny day on the lawn. I began ladling out the cocktail into our glasses, ensuring each of us got a bit of strawberry, and added the final touch to each: a sprig of mint in each cup. The Bavarian Bridegroom's Cups absolutely shone - we were super excited to try them!
My experience tasting it:
We took our first sips and - suprise, surprise - they tasted like very chilled white wine. Nice, but nothing too special. Not super sweet either, since it was made with a dry wine. We couldn't detect the taste of kirschwasser at all, and I firmly believed that the strawberries and mint had not had enough time to impart their flavours fully yet. So, we set our drinks down to make a few friendship bracelets and ended up reaching a flow state of some kind, meaning we did not touch our drinks for at least 15 minutes. However, when we did pick them up again, we noticed the strawberries and mint had been working as hard as we were - you could definitely taste them this time! The result was a refreshing, cool, summery cocktail. Admittedly, still very wine-forward, but a perfect end to a warm day. We still couldn't taste the kirschwasser, though, and we came to the conclusion that either I did not pour enough in using my estimating hand, or the kirschwasser was maybe intended only to fortify the wine, not to add any flavour of its own. Only Baker and the Bavarian man he knew could know. We enjoyed the cocktail thoroughly and made the bold decision to make another round, this time with rosé, even though the light was fading fast. Following the same method as before, we created our pink punchbowl of drink and ladled it out into our cups. Upon tasting, we all agreed that the recipe worked best with a sweet wine (the first round having been made with a dry Riesling). The sweet rosé wine lent a fruitier flavour that went perfectly with the strawberries and mint. The Bavarian Bridegroom's Cup was a hit with all of us, and as a result, I will definitely make it again; perhaps next time I might try making it with prosecco! It is easy to make, and the ingredients are fairly easy to find - I recommend trying it, especially if you are a wine fan. If you end up making this drink, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!
The Bavarian Bridegroom's Cup original recipe (1939)
Sourced from The Gentleman's Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book, Or, Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask by Charles Henry Baker Jr. (1939).
The Bavarian "Bridegroom's Cup," a Memory from the Gay Days when There Was Time in which to Live a Life - & Laugh, & Love, & Sing, & Dance, in Middle Europe We have a lovely friend, a girl, who married a Bavarian "von" who is our idea of what a "von" ought to be; and at their wedding in New York he introduced us to this delightful drink - which is doubly nice on a hot summer's day... Take the biggest crystal goblet we can find, then chill it. Fill it 1/3 full of ice and turn in 1/2 bottle of good Rhine wine - well chilled - and 1 jigger of kirsch. Stir for a moment with a silver spoon, then garnish with a handful of crushed lightly sugared ripe strawberries - also chilled; only put them in with a spoon - 3 tbsp. total. Bedeck with a sprig of green mint, if in the mood. There we have it.
Modern Recipe
Based on the recipe from The Gentleman's Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book, Or, Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask by Charles Henry Baker Jr. (1939).
Ingredients:
Crushed ice
1 bottle Riesling or other sweet wine
2 jiggers (3 fl. oz./90 ml) kirsch (kirschwasser, the clear kind!)
1 pint (375g or so) strawberries
1/4 cup (50g) sugar
A few sprigs of mint
Method:
Fill 1/3 of a punchbowl (chilled if possible) with crushed ice.
Pour in one well-chilled bottle of Riesling or other sweet wine.
Add two jiggers of kirsch to the bowl, then stir.
De-stem the strawberries, then crush them lightly in a different bowl using a potato masher.
Sprinkle sugar over the strawberries, then mix them around until all the strawberries are coated.
Add the sugared strawberries to the punchbowl of wine and lightly mix.
Garnish with a sprig of mint in the punchbowl, or garnish each individual glass with a sprig of mint after serving out drink with a ladle.
Serve it forth!
HOT DR PEPPER (1968)
It's been a spooky and scary week or so in many ways, and what better way to comfort myself than trying out this Halloween-branded Hot Dr Pepper for my next Tasting History , or rather, Drinking History, concoction. This alcohol-free drink is exactly what it sounds like: Dr Pepper pop warmed up. Dr Pepper, currently the second highest-selling carbonated soft drink in the United States, was created in the 1880s by pharmacist Charles Alderton in Waco, Texas, and first served around 1885. It was first nationally marketed in the United States in 1904, and went on to become a favourite soda with broad and structured marketing campaigns by the 1950s. In the 1960s, the company noticed that Dr Pepper sales dipped in the winter months. So, they launched a marketing campaign, with Dick Clark as the spokesman, to popularize hot Dr Pepper in order to boost winter sales. There were printed ads, there were TV commercials, restaurants began featuring the drink on menus, and you could buy special hot Dr Pepper mugs. However, the drink never quite caught on, and those who drink it today tend to favour it as a way to soothe symptoms of the common cold. I decided to try this recipe because Dr Pepper is one of my favourite pops, and I also like a warm drink in the colder months. See Max’s video on how to make it here or see the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from his website.
My experience making it:
This is most definitely the easiest 'recipe' I have made yet. I just bought one can of Dr Pepper (I got the Halloween-branded can, which has no flavour difference, but a fun design!) and a lemon.
I poured the can into a pot and heated it on the stove on medium heat until it reached 85 degrees Celsius (180 Fahrenheit), using my brand new cooking thermometer. I then poured it into my favourite mug (shaped like a curling stone), sliced the lemon, and added a slice to the mug. It smelled good, and looked kind of like a hot, sweet black tea.
My experience tasting it:
After waiting for it to cool down a little and for the lemon to hopefully impart some of its flavour into the hot Dr Pepper, I took a sip. Shockingly, it tasted of... Dr Pepper! Surprise, surprise. The only differences I could detect were the hot temperature and the flatness. There were simply no bubbles left in this formerly-fizzy drink. My tastebuds kept searching for a hint of lemon, but not much could be found - perhaps it blended too well with the 23 spices Dr Pepper claims to contain. Regardless, I did like the drink, but only because I already like Dr Pepper. I suppose the heat of the drink was comforting, but I would probably prefer to make tea, hot chocolate, or mulled wine if that's the mood I was in. Of course, Max did warn me of all of this - he had a near identical reaction to hot Dr Pepper - but I decided to make it because it is one of my favourite pops, and why not? While I did think it tasted good, it didn't taste good enough for me to make it again. I could imagine, however, that this recipe could be improved upon by adding a fruit juice or two, or a few more spices on top of the 23 apparently already in the Dr Pepper recipe. If you end up making it, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!
Hot Dr Pepper original recipe (1968)
Sourced from Dick Clark's instructions in a Dr Pepper commercial (1968).
Just heat Dr Pepper in a saucepan till it steams. Then pour over a thin slice of lemon. That’s a hot idea! Yes, Dr Pepper is delicious cold or hot.
Modern Recipe
Based on Dick Clark's line in a Dr Pepper commercial (1968) and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.
Ingredients:
1 can of Dr Pepper
1 lemon slice
Method:
Pour the Dr Pepper into a saucepan. Set it over medium heat until it reaches 180°F (85°C).
Place a lemon slice in a mug. Pour the hot Dr Pepper over it, then serve it forth.
RASPBERRY SHRUB (1911)
It's been a hot minute (quite literally - summer is in full swing!), and I've finally decided to jot down my notes on my most recent Tasting History (or rather, Drinking History) concoction: Raspberry Shrub. The recipe for the this alcohol-free, vinegar-based fruit syrup, often used in cocktails and mocktails, was published in 1911 in Good Things to Eat, as Suggested by Rufus by Rufus Estes. Also known as 'drinking vinegar' in the late 19th and early 20th century, this syrup could either be drunk on ice, added to sparkling water, or used in a cocktail or mocktail recipe. Drinking vinegar has been popular since at least Ancient Rome, where soldiers drank a kind of 'energy drink' called posca. However, this recipe for shrub, from the first African American celebrity chef, Rufus Estes, is a thick syrup that is perhaps used best as an ingredient. While this version uses raspberries, Rufus also has a recipe for blackcurrant shrub. You can technically make a shrub out of most fruits! I was very suspect of this vinegar-based drink, as I tend to associate vinegar with savoury flavours, but I decided to trust Max's raving review of Raspberry Shrub added to sparkling water. Max even recommended adding a bit of gin in there - so I wanted to try it both ways, since gin is my favourite spirit. See Max’s video on how to make it here or see the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from his website.
My experience making it:
I stuck very close to Max's recipe this time, although I did halve it (partially because I was worried about ruining expensive, delicious raspberries with vinegar if it all went wrong...). I used white wine vinegar and table sugar, and for mixing the shrub into a cocktail/mocktail, I used Gerolsteiner medium sparking water and Gordon's Pink Gin.
The process to make a Raspberry Shrub was fairly long, but not too involved. The day before I wanted to drink the shrub, I mashed the raspberries into the vinegar and left it in a covered pot on the counter overnight. Between the pot and pot lid, I put a layer of paper towel in order to prevent the pesky summer fruit flies from sneaking in on the hot days - breathable, but protective. The next day, I boiled it briefly before straining it through a sieve into another pan. The smell of vinegar did stink up the kitchen, like Max warned, but the liquid was definitely a beautiful raspberry colour with no solids floating in it. I added the sugar in bit by bit while the liquid was still hot, stirring as I went, then boiled the mixture for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. At this point the vinegar smell leaked out of the kitchen into the rest of the apartment, so I had to open a window! Once the 20 minutes was up, I let it cool completely over a few hours, then poured it into a clear glass bottle and put it in the fridge. That night, I was having a few friends over to play a board game and planned to use them as guinea pigs for the Raspberry Shrub taste test. I planned to serve it both as a mocktail with ice and sparkling water, and as a cocktail with ice, sparkling water, and a bit of pink gin.
My experience tasting it:
Because I'm not completely mean, I did actually try the Raspberry Shrub myself first before making others drink it. I first tried a drop or two of the syrup by itself first. It had solidified to a decent degree in the fridge, and was already nearly the consistency of honey. It tasted quite flavourful - raspberry being front and centre, but with a sourness and acidity that quite obviously tasted of vinegar. The smell was definitely of vinegar. For these reasons, like Max, I would not suggest drinking this on its own with ice. The consistency would be too thick, and the vinegar taste would be very noticeable. Next, I made myself a mocktail - about 1/4 of the glass filled with the syrup, adding ice, and then filling the rest to the top with sparkling water. Also like Max mentions, the syrup doesn't combine super easily with the water, so you really need to stir quite a bit to get it to mix well. After stirring, my drink was a brilliant raspberry red. I took a sip, and was yet again overwhelmed with raspberry and a bit of vinegar flavour - a bit too strong. To remedy this, I took a big flavourful swig of it to make more room in the glass, then filled that space with more sparkling water. Stirring again, it became a lovely rose colour. Trying it this time, a little diluted, it was the perfect summery drink: fruity, light, sparkling, cold, a little sweet, and a little sour. I could just barely detect the unique taste of vinegar.
I had found the happy ratio of ingredients (about 1/5 or 1/6 of the glass) to serve my guests, so I made them up a drink in my new chalice cocktail glasses. They were a hit! My one friend, who claims she really enjoys the taste of vinegar, was even so bold as to add even more of the shrub to her glass. So, it seems each person might have their own preferred ratio. The second round of shrubs we made, we decided to add some pink gin. In my opinion, it was the perfect addition, since it's a little sweeter than your average gin, but I am known to have a sweet tooth. I could see it working well either way. I could see why these shrubs would be useful - you can store them quite a long time, thereby preserving those tasty fruit flavours longer than they would last as fruit-form in the fridge. I think a Raspberry Shrub, or any other shrub, is a great way to liven up normal sparking water, but I also think it works wonderfully as a cocktail ingredient. The vinegar adds a unique kind of acidity different from lime or lemon juice, in my opinion. Both my friends had a couple cocktails and quite enjoyed their shrubs, and one even asked for the recipe, so I consider this recipe a keeper! It is a great summery drink for young and old, teetotal or boozy. I would be curious, also, to try using the shrub in various other cocktail or mocktail recipes, as I think it would be quite versatile. If you end up making it, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!
Raspberry Shrub original recipe (1911)
Sourced from Good Things to Eat, as Suggested by Rufus, by Rufus Estes, 1911.
Put one quart of ripe raspberries in a bowl, add two cups of vinegar, mash the berries slightly, and let stand overnight. In the morning, scald and strain until clear. Measure, and to each cup of juice add one cup of sugar, boil twenty minutes and seal.
Modern Recipe
Based on Good Things to Eat, as Suggested by Rufus, by Rufus Estes, and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.
Ingredients:
1 quart (700 g) fresh ripe raspberries, washed
2 cups (475 ml) white wine vinegar
3 cups (600 g) granulated sugar
Sparkling water, if desired
Method:
Put the raspberries in a small saucepan with the white wine vinegar. Mash the berries enough so that there are no full berries left intact, but it does not need to be mashed to a puree. Cover the saucepan and let it sit for at least 12 hours.
Once the berries have been infused with the vinegar, take the saucepan and set it over a medium heat, bringing it to a boil for 1 minute. Then remove it from the heat and pour the mixture through a sieve into a large saucepan.
Add the sugar and whisk until dissolved, then set the pan over medium heat and bring to a simmer for 20 mintues, stirring occasionally to ensure all of the sugar has dissolved. Remove the shrub from the heat and let it cool completely before pouring it into a container to chill in the refrigerator.
Once chilled, the shrub is ready to use. Pour it as-is over ice, lightly dilute it with sparkling water, or mix it into a cocktail of white wine or the spirit of your choice, and serve it forth.
BAGUIO SKIN COCKTAIL (1939)
After a bit of a hiatus due to my own mental and physical struggles during the several heatwaves this summer in Germany, I return to celebrate my birthday with cupcakes and a cocktail from The Gentleman’s Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book, Or, Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask (published in 1939) by Charles Henry Baker Jr.. I opted to make a cocktail in this book called the Baguio Skin, which the author and his friends first tried at the hill station of Baguio in the Philippines to escape the heat of Manila. I, also looking to escape the heat, was drawn to this cocktail because of how simple it is to make: it has very few ingredients, and all of them are quite common to keep stocked on a bar cart. As Baker explains, Baguio was established as a hill station - which is a hill town founded by colonial forces to escape summer heat - for the US military and officials seeking refuge from the heat of Manila, in the Philippines. They retreated to the cooler mountains of Luzon, where they would play golf and visit the Country Club, which is where Baker and Co. tried this cocktail for the first time. So, it is now clear why Baguio is in the name, but what about the 'Skin' part? Strangely, 'skins' were traditionally hot alcoholic drinks which included a spirit, hot water, citrus peel, and sugar, similar to a toddy or punch. It seems the recipe for the Baguio Skin includes several of these components, but is instead served cold - how interesting! I wonder if this concoction would also taste good served hot in the winter? If you'd like to experiment for yourself, see the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from Charles Henry Baker Jr.’s book.
My experience making it:
We are lucky that not only do the instructions for the Baguio Skin cocktail give us an exact brand of rum to use, but that exact brand still exists today and is easily available for purchase! I used the called-for Bacardi Carta Oro rum, Angostura orange bitters, and lime slices, then I grated the nutmeg fresh myself.
I began by slicing the limes nice and fine, so they would be ready to add later. Since I was making the cocktail for my husband and I, I got out two tall-stemmed wine glasses; I would be making each cocktail in its own glass. First, I added a teaspoon of sugar to each wine glass. The original recipe then calls for a 'trifle' of water. I couldn't seem to find anything online about what this measurement was, but based on the directions, it looked like Baker intended for us to make a kind of simple syrup (very sugary water used in most bars). Luckily, I have lots of experience making simple syrup in large quantities from previous jobs I have had. Usually, we would make it with the ratio of one part sugar to one part hot water. Since this cocktail is meant to be served cold, I used cold water instead with this same ratio. Using cold water just means that you have to stir the sugar into the water longer before it all dissolves properly. I therefore added about a teaspoon of cold water and stirred vigorously for a few minutes per glass until the sugar granules had disappeared. Next, I added a dash of Angostura orange bitters into each glass, then laid two thin slices of lime in each. I popped exactly three ice cubes into each glass, poured in the rum, then gave each glass a brisk stir. The cocktail was now a moody brown colour, and the glass was beginning to get frosty from the ice. I grated some fresh nutmeg on top, but it was kind of hard to do this neatly, without getting nutmeg on the sides. The cocktails were ready to serve! They looked very icy and refreshing, but also kind of like a kid had made them due to the nutmeg that was visible above the liquid line in the glasses. The Baguio Skin looked a bit like a mystery drink I used to make when being naughty and impatient at a restaurant as a kid: a bit of cola, a lime from someone's cocktail rim, sugar, salt, and pepper. I hoped this cocktail would taste better than its name and its lookalike!
My experience tasting it:
I served the Baguio Skin cocktails with some birthday cupcakes post-dinner. On first sip, we were mainly grateful for the icy cold sensation on this hot day. Pure relief! Then, the flavour began to come through. This is a rum-heavy cocktail, so I was worried it was going to taste very alcoholic. However, the ice, sugar, lime, and orange bitters had done wonders to soften the alcohol taste from the rum, leaving a lightly sweet taste of rum behind. You could taste the rum, of course, but it didn't punch you. The most interesting part of this drink was actually the nutmeg. Before each sip, its fragrant smell would waft upward, lending a really pleasant spice to each sip before the cocktail even touched your tongue. You could taste it a little too, but its effect was primarily olfactory, turning the cocktail experience into a sensory delight. The lime did not add too much sourness, and I think its main purpose was there to balance the sweetness of the other ingredients. The orange bitters too, perhaps. As we enjoyed our cocktails, I couldn't help but notice that the drink was becoming more flavourful and even a bit more orangey in taste toward the bottom. I wondered if the orange bitters, or maybe even the lime, had remained near the bottom, imparting much more flavour there, beneath the ice. This had the effect of making the last several sips, which typically taste quite watery due to melting ice, very bright and full of flavour, leaving us on a high note. What a wonderful way to finish the cocktail! Overall, I was pleasantly surprised by this cocktail. Yes, it was simple and not the prettiest to look at, but it had refreshed us well and tasted good while doing it. I will definitely be adding this cocktail to my recipe book, since it is always good to have a couple easy, tasty cocktail recipes on hand in a pinch. If you end up making this drink, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!
Baguio Skin original recipe (1939)
Sourced from The Gentleman’s Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book, Or, Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask by Charles Henry Baker Jr. (1939).
THE BAGUIO SKIN, being a Very Simple yet Very Unusual Exotic from Our Beautiful Hill Station away up in the Igorote Country among the High Mountains of Luzon Baguio happens to be the world's first and only planned hill station, beautifully laid out by Cameron Forbes, Beside it the Topsy-like British India hill stations at Mussoorie, Gulmarg, and Simla - that "jest growed" - are straggling, casual affairs with no organization or scenic plan other than that endowed by an ever-generous Almighty. Baguio is the summer, rainy season retreat of civil and military Manila. We found this drink there, 7000 feet up, sitting before an open fire at the Country Club, looking out through the windows while the cloud slowly came down and tucked the 18th fairway under its wing. In a tall-stemmed wineglass put 1 tsp of sugar dissolved in a trifle of water; then 1 dash or so of orange bitters. On top of this place 2 thin slices of green lime - or lemon - 3 ice cubes, and then add 2 ponies of Carta de Oro Bacardi. Stir briskly with a bar spoon and serve as-is, with a final dusting of grated nutmeg on top. We consider this one of the finest possible, and find that 1 pair of orange or jasmine blossoms starred in each glass lends the true tropical, the fragrant, touch that guests like.
Modern Recipe
Based on the recipe from The Gentleman’s Companion: Being an Exotic Drinking Book, Or, Around the World with Jigger, Beaker, and Flask by Charles Henry Baker Jr. (1939).
Ingredients:
3 ice cubes
1 1/4 jiggers (1.7 oz/50 ml) Bacardi Carta Oro rum
1 tsp sugar*
3 tsp water
2 thin lime (or lemon) slices
1 dash orange bitters
sprinkle of grated nutmeg
*Instead of the sugar and water, you can also use 4 tsp simple syrup
Method:
Add sugar to a tall-stemmed wine glass.
Pour in water and stir sugar into it until completely dissolved.
Add a dash or so of orange bitters.
Place two thin slices of lime (or lemon) in the glass, then 3 ice cubes.
Pour in the rum and stir briskly with a bar spoon.
Grate nutmeg on top, and serve it forth!