As I hinted at in my post on the whiskey sour some time ago, I find that particular cocktail staple to be extremely sour. Truth in advertising, I guess, but while many love it, for me it’s a drink for which I feel more respect than affection. Then, one day last week, I saw a small sack of Meyer Lemons on sale for a reasonable price at my local branch of the newish Southwestern grocery chain, Fresh and Easy. If you’re a foodie, you may know this seasonal citrus as an ingredient favored by such culinary legends as Alice Waters. I just like the idea of a lemon that’s partly an orange.

Searching around for cocktails made with the juice of the crossbreed fruit, I tried one drink which I may return to if I can find another bag. On a whim, I then decided to try out my own version of a whiskey sour, using the juice of this decidedly sweeter lemon which, unlike the fruit that Trini Lopez sang about, is entirely possible to eat. For some reason I decided to use slightly less juice than most recipes call for, slightly more sugar and about double the egg white.  Since I’d already had one drink, I decided to steer away from the hundred proof boozes I’ve been leaning toward and just go with good old 80 proof Canadian Club. The result was, for me, a small slice of near paradise.

The Meyer-Canadian Semi-Sour

2 ounces Canadian Club whisky
3/4 ounce (or slightly less) freshly squeezed Meyer lemon juice
1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons superfine sugar
1 large egg white
1 maraschino cherry (garnish)

Combine the ingredients in a cocktail shaker without ice. Shake vigorously to ensure that the egg white is fully emulsified — you should have a nice yellow froth going. Add ice and shake again, even more vigorously and longer. Pour into a chilled martini, wine, or rocks glass with a maraschino cherry for color and an added dash of sweetness. Try not to drink it all it once.

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I also sampled the then unnamed Meyer-Canadian Semi-Sour with both 100 proof Canadian Club and Rittenhouse Rye, a personal favorite, but the stronger flavor of the 100 proof stuff overwhelmed it in both cases. 80 proof Canadian Club seems to be the perfect thing here, and I suspect this would work almost as well with one of CC’s competitors. I even more strongly suspect it would be outstanding with Crown Royal, if you’ve got that kind of money to throw around. It’s a shame I can’t try it with the 86 proof Canadian Club that my grandma used to drink back in the last century and which presumably was closer to whatever Don Draper was swigging decades prior, but the contemporary version works so nicely that I have a hard time complaining very much.

Of course, since this drink uses raw egg whites, the usual provisos apply that I covered in the whiskey sour post. There’s very, very, very little too worry about for most people though I know there’s tons of raw egg phobes out there. On the other hand, if you have a significantly compromised immune system or are pregnant or otherwise very touchy healthwise, you may want to either use pasteurized egg whites or simply avoid this drink. (Actually, if you’re pregnant, I’m not sure you’re even allowed to read this.)

By the way, if you can’t find Meyer Lemons in your area at the moment and are suddenly determined to try them, you can order a very large quantity here.

This variation on the very popular brand of Canadian whisky has been around for years, but I’ve never seen it on a single store shelf. In fact, at first I assumed it was a brand new product. It’s not, but it fits right in with the trend towards attempting more complex variations on the traditionally light and smooth Canadian whisky discussed in our “Spotlight on Booze” piece several weeks back.

As the name Canadian Club Classic 12 indicates, this expression is aged 12 years rather than six years as with standard Canadian Club.  It is actually one of a few spin-off lines from Hiram Walker’s best-known brand. The venerable whisky line also includes the more commonly available 10-year-old Canadian Club Reserve, which I’ve enjoyed, and a 100 proof version I would truly love to try at some point — now that I know it exists.

I’ve been sampling this whisky — the Canadians dispense with the “e” — for a while now and have featured it in a couple of “Drink of the Week” posts, but I haven’t really discussed it on its own. Like a lot of things, it took some getting used to but has grown on me.  I found it pretty outstanding in the slightly counterintuitive Bloody Caesar recipe that I ran. Its more smokey flavor may also work better in a Canadian Cocktail than ordinary CC.

Though I rarely drink booze straight except when I’m doing these reviews, it definitely tastes better neat than it’s more inexpensive but supremely mixable brethren. CC 12 has some Scotch-like astringency, but the flavor also has maybe a tiny bit more of a noticeable sweetness with a rye tang. It’s fine on the rocks and extremely drinkable with soda.

All in all, I’m coming around to the view that I’m pretty favorable to this expression, perhaps because it actually predates recent attempts to appeal to connoisseurs. In the case of the acclaimed Forty Creek, those efforts may have lead to a whiskey I personally found excessively difficult for all its greater complexity. I prefer the lightness and smoothness of regular Canadian whisky in general, and standard (and very inexpensive) Canadian Club in particular, which causes some to sniff that it’s the vodka of whiskey. I still like vodka, too.

Still, the real reason I was going to go AWOL on eggnog was that I was simply intimidated. I imagined fresh eggnog to be a very complicated drink to make; a drink that might even force me to break my no-blenders rule. classic drink though it be. The online recipes telling me that I had to start with a 6 or more eggs, separate the yolks from the whites and perform various operations on them only reinforced that assumption.

Then, however, I started Googling “eggnog for one” and a great revelation came to me. Really, all this drink is a raw egg — provisos and disclaimers to come — milk, sugar, vanilla flavor, and booze. I have to say that, even if I have a sentimental attachment for the gooey store bought stuff, this shockingly easy, if slightly messy, home made version beats that all to heck.

So, here goes, the drink recipe I never thought I’d post.

Eggnog

1.5 ounces of your choice of cognac/brandy, bourbon, Canadian whiskey, or rum
1 large egg
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 ounce heavy cream (optional)
2 ounces full fat milk if not using heavy cream; with cream use 1.5 ounces
4-5 teaspoons superfine or powdered sugar
Ground nutmeg (garnish)
1 cinnamon stick (optional garnish)

Add your choice of booze to the egg and beat in the certainly mistaken belief that the alcohol will kill any errant bacteria lurking in the egg. The booze does, however, loosen up the egg and make it easier to beat. You might as well throw in the vanilla extract at this stage, because that’s got some alcohol, too, right? (Note to fellow vanilla lowers — 1/4 teaspoon of extract per serving is all you need. I tried doubling it on one attempt, and it kind of threw off the balance. The stuff’s expensive, anyhow.)

Pour the eggy booze/boozy egg mixture into a cocktail shaker. Add 2 ounces of whole milk or, if you really want to go full nog, substitute half an ounce of heavy cream for 1/2 ounce of the milk. Stir in the easily dissolved sugar of your choice.

Add ice. Shake very vigorously and strain into a smallish rocks glass. Garnish with a plentiful sprinkling of ground nutmeg on the top, which should sport an appetizing froth. Add a cinnamon stick if you like — it’s probably more for presentation than flavor but it looks nice — and prepare for the elixir of the soon-to-be overweight gods.

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Okay, so there’s a raw egg in this drink. The chances of salmonella poisoning from an egg are extremely low and you’re probably more likely to make contact with the nasty bacteria in a salad — and the salad doesn’t have any alcohol in it. However, as usual, people with compromised immune systems or other significant health issues, definitely including pregnancy, should probably stay away for a number of reasons. Of course, if you can find them, springing for pasteurized eggs is also a possibility.

And now a word about the choice of booze. Really, every kind I tried worked wonderfully. I will say that the bottle of Hennessy VS Cognac I’ve been sampling courtesy of their thoughtful PR folks was an especially refreshing version. The late Kim Il Sung might have been a murderous mad man even by dictatorial standards, but he knew his mid-priced brandy.

That being said, the sweeter whiskeys like bourbon and Canadian whisky also work nicely and it just occurs to me that Bushmills’s very light and drinkable Irish whiskey might be good, but I’m much less sure of Scotch. Bacardi light rum was good but the Whaler’s Original dark rum I used for last week’s DOTW was significantly better and I’m sure any reputable amber variety would be very decent.

I suspect this recipe would also work fine sans booze, though it will be all that much thicker and you might want to avoid the heavy cream if excessive richness is not your thing. Or, you may wan to use more ice and shake it a bit longer. I wouldn’t worry too much, it’s not easy to ruin frosty icy, aerated dairy fat and sugar with a bit of vanilla.

Happy Hanukkah, Christmas, and Atheist/Pagan Saturnalia, everyone.

As the name would indicate, the Canadian Cocktail is definitely an enjoyable way to enjoy Don Draper and Nucky Thompson’s underrated favorite, Canadian Club, or, if you’re feeling like something a bit more complex, the new Canadian Club Classic 12 (as in 12 years-old). It’s part of a new wave of high end Canadian whisky and a beverage we’ll be returning to elsewhere.

The Canadian Cocktail

1 1/2 ounces Canadian whisky
1/2 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 ounce orange curacao or triple sec
1-2 dash bitters (Angostura or orange)
1 teaspoon superfine sugar (highly optional)
1 maraschino cherry (garnish, fairly optional)

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker. If you’re adding sugar dissolve it. Add ice, shake like the dickens and strain into a chilled and preferably smallish rocks/old fashioned glass, perhaps one in which you’ve already tossed a maraschino cheery if you’ve skipped the sugar. Sip in a leisurely manner while watching a “Kids in the Hall” rerun or a Guy Maddin flick.

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There are other versions of this drink floating around the net. Some dispense with the lemon juice, which might work if you’re using a really good triple sec or a very small quantity of it. Some call for you to peel an entire orange rind to make a gigantic orange twist. I’m sure it’s a fine touch, but I haven’t learned to do that yet without threatening myself with major harm. I would, however, counsel cocktail cheapskates to use orange curacao, which should have a slight edge of bitterness. On the inexpensive end of the liqueur landscape, it brings a much more interesting and less insipid flavor to the drink.