By On the occasion of our 20th anniversary
By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
Illustration by Mark DanceyWhen emissaries of the Weekly approached me to compile a list of the 12 most undeservedly forgotten cocktails, it mooted the question: Is it still possible to imbibe elegantly in this crassly electronic age? The answer is yes, for those moxied (and livered) enough to take the challenge. Most of these libations demand components not readily available at your corner Hooch 'N' Go, but the reward is well-worth the pursuit. I stress that these recipes are only for those SERIOUS about their alcoholism, those who recognize it as Art and the proper calling of a gentleman, as did Churchill, Waugh and W.C. Fields. We are surrounded on all sides by beigist degenerates; damn-fool jackanapes; and plain lazy, ill-attired slobs, some of whom may even thumb through this fishwrap. If you only go to bars to effuse your oleaginous residue on the opposite sex, quit reading right now; we don't want your kind in this article. If you're not capable of putting two ingredients together on your own (i.e., not willing to put in the effort necessary to get drunk right), then fuck you. Herewith, then, my picks for the Top 12 Lost Cocktails.
2-3 oz. gin
1/2 oz. dry vermouth
1-2 dashes orange bitters
Shake with crushed ice; strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with orange or lemon twist.
First served at the Waldorf-Astoria bar in 1897, this is a variation on the martini (as were most cocktails in that golden, departed age) that achieves snob value through the addition of the now-rare orange bitters. In better times an ingredient of many preferred cocktails, the bitters grant the Astoria a cool, tart finish entirely unlike and superior to whatever ghastly concoction of well vodka and neon-hued liqueur presumes to call itself a "fruit-flavored martini" at your neighborhood ass-trawlery. It is curious to me that anyone would have the gall to label some frightful admixture of stevedore-grade tequila, Kahlua and Midori a martini, but it is done. However, were I to administer sound drubbings to the deserving sundry, I should have no time to drink.
The dearth of easily available orange bitters had me nigh to concocting my own through sheer desperation (there's a recipe floating about somewhere on the Internet that involves Madeira oranges, grain alcohol, a mortar and pestle, and entirely too much time and effort for a professional sot to expend), but my savior appeared in the stalwart form of Rochester, New York's own Fee Brothers, possibly the last manufacturer and purveyor of the bitters left anywhere (see contact info below).
Try also the alternate Opera: 2 oz. gin, 1/2 oz. Dubonnet Blanc, 1/4 oz. maraschino liqueur, and a dash of orange bitters.Music: Combustible Edison,Four Rooms soundtrack. 2. AVIATION