I don’t like politics. In fact I hate that Americans have made politics their entire personality. I cannot go one fucking day without reading a completely non-political article (like some dude crashing his plane in the middle of a national park for views; or a mother who murdered her children) without *someone* bringing politics into it, even when it makes no got-damned sense…like injecting a loaf of bread with brine instead of a turkey. So why the fuck am I talking about politics here? Because it was politics that robbed me of Havana Club Rum.
Sure it all happened long before I was even a thought in my parents’ brains, but we’re all still feeling the effects of the embargo on Cuban goods to this day. Havana Club was first created by Jose Arechabala in the late 1800s when he moved to Cuba from Spain. The brand, Havana Club, was not created until 1934. It was later nationalized by Castro (fuck that guy) after the Cuban Revolution in 1959. In the early 90s Castro and some fucking French guy created a state-run 50:50 joint venture called Corporación Cuba Ron. They began exporting this version of Havana Club globally, except the US, because…we kinda suck (embargo, and all).
Bacardi, another Cuban-run distillery, which apparently bought the Havana Club recipe, moved to Puerto Rico and also began producing the rum in the early 90s so it could sell it, along with its flagship brand in the U.S. Bacardi and the French guy have apparently been duking it out in court since then over ownership of the name “Havana Club”. In my humble opinion, Bacardi needs to back the fuck off. It’s got a very well-established Cuban-originated rum. No need for monopolies, you greedy fucks.
AAAAAAnyway, although the Havana Club produced in Cuba is not sold in the U.S., it is sold literally everywhere else—including Ireland—where we recently vacationed. So, we bought a 7-year and an Añejo which I will never touch except for VERY special occasions. Such as publishing a blog post.
Because I’d be tarred, feathered, drawn and quartered for using such rum in a Mai Tai, Rum Runner or even a Cuba Libre, I figured the best way to feature such a rare treat for us Americans was in an Old Fashioned. In other cocktails, the ingredients all tend to play nice with and accentuate each other culminate in a beverage where you can’t really consistently taste each ingredient. You may get hints of each ingredient during different phases of ingestion (the nose, the palate, the finish, etc.), but for the most part, in such cocktails, the idea is to make a homogenous, balanced drink where no one ingredient overpowers the other.
Then there are the cocktails where the idea is to spotlight the base spirit. Think the Aviation, classic Martini, and even the Daiquiri. But the Queen, in my mind, of these types of cocktails is the Old Fashioned. The got-damn O.G. Traditionally made with bourbon, the idea of the Old Fashioned is to simply flavor the bourbon. A pinch of sugar, a dash of bitters, and a spritz of orange essence (the oil from the rind) is enough to elevate the bourbon to an experience over and above drinking it neat. I feel the Old Fashioned is for those intimately familiar with the nuances of the bourbon itself and are ready to, in the immortal words of Emeril, “kick it up a notch.”
And here’s the thing: the Old Fashioned is simply a template. It is not a recipe as much as a format. This means you can sub in any spirit you want. I’ve seen the Old Fashioned made with gin, tequila, mezcal, whiskey, scotch, bourbon, and, of course, rum.
Given the nature of the other ingredients, I prefer darker spirits over lighter spirits as the base. I just think bitters go better with deeper, caramel-y, cane-syrupy notes. Spirits like gin and blanco tequila are grassier and have a bitterness of their own, which in my opinion are bitter enough without the help. I also just don’t like bitter. It’s gross. And a mechanism humans use to AVOID poison (poisonous shit tends to either be bitter or sweet or bittersweet). Also, bitter is almost always a negative descriptor.
That said, the fact that alcohol is itself poison is not lost on me.
Drink responsibly, kids.
I digress. Rum is a great spirit for Old Fashioned cocktails. Especially the aged stuff because the format of the cocktail really spotlights and elevates the spirit; and assuming you’re not feeling just sipping it neat, a really great way to experience the nuances of the spirit.
All said, here’s the recipe:
INGREDIENTS
2 ounces Havana Club 7-year Rum
1/4 ounce Orgeat syrup
4-6 dashes Angostura or Orange bitters
1 Lime peel, expressed
1 Filthy cherry, for garnish
DIRECTIONS
1. In a mixing pitcher, add ice, the rum, the syrup and the bitters
2. Stir for between 12 and 15 seconds
3. Prepare your glass: throw in a honking piece of ice (square, spherical, unicorn-sharped, IDGAF)
4. Strain the elixir into the glass and express the lime essence all over everything (haha, that’s what he said). The most effective way I’ve found to do so is to take the peel between you pointer finger and thumb and gently squeeze it in toward itself, so the green bit is being pinched into itself. Because I want every little bit of that limey goodness, I pinch the length of the peel. You should be able to see the oil spraying out as you do this. If you’re feeling real fancy, gently rub the expressed peel around the rim of the glass before popping it in.
5. Finish with a rinsed filthy cherry on a toothpick. If you’re feeling extra fancy (I know you are. I watched you rimming that glass with the lime peel…also, that’s what he said), use a bamboo toothpick. You can grab them at your local ABC or Total Wine.
6. These cocktails are meant to be sipped and diluted with the ice. So take your time (if you can manage).
Just Jelli 