Urban Bar: Black Russian
If you’re an old movie buff, at some point you’ve gotten caught up in the glamorous mayhem of an Irving Berlin musical. White Christmas
is the red-ribbon standard for this time of year, but another such is Call Me Madam
, which uses the presence of no less potent a weapon than Astoria's own Ethel Merman to tell a tale of the U.S. Ambassador to Luxembourg at the very dawn of the cold war.
What does this have to do with drinking? Prior to government service, Perle Mesta
– rechristened as Sally Adams in the film -- was Washington D.C.’s legendary "hostess with the mostest." Mesta was known for society-page soirees in which glamour and lavishness underscored serious political conviction and clout. In truest DC style, she understood how everything translated into influence, including and perhaps especially unimpeachable social skills. Hence the ambassadorship, which was granted by President Truman not just as a reward for helping him get elected but as a shrewd move to put those skills to good use and, one suspects, to keep Mesta as in check as she could be kept.
On a trip to Brussels, Mesta was staying at the legendary Hotel Metropole. So highly regarded was Mesta’s presence at this swankerie that the head bartender decided to create a signature cocktail to honor it. Thus was the Black Russian born. In that time of the unfolding cold war, the reference to commies and diplomats and the tundra between them could not have been more timely perceived or more artfully rendered. One imagines how delighted Madam Ambassador must have been to be handed this cocktail which was the perfect blend of fire and ice, that was sophisticated and ribald simultaneously, and that had been crafted in her honor.
Some agents might argue for toddies, but I believe that the Black Russian is the perfect cold-weather cocktail. It’s in the design of the drink. Can you think of vodka without envisioning icy climes from Siberia to Scandinavia? Can you think of coffee liqueur without thinking of a hot cuppa? As with many cocktails, it is shock-upon-impact that makes for a successful sip. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise, comrade: a Black Russian should be frigid to the taste and to the touch, colder than any other cocktail except a martini. The iced vodka provides the snow drift as the Kahlúa sleds in to provide the fur robe. The bracing icy slap is counterpointed by the welcome spread of warmth as the drink kicks in. Being icy but warming you up: it is that dichotomy – the winter solstice's compliment to the summer solstice's bowl of ice cream – that makes for an ideal winter drink.
This message will self-destruct in five seconds, but here is a recipe for the perfect Black Russian. Because it only contains two ingredients – vodka and Kahlúa – the success of your Black Russian depends upon the quality of the ingredients and their preparation. This is technically a “sweet” Black Russian, which plays with the official ratio of one part vodka to one part Kahlúa, because after much research I have found that a slightly heavier pour from the liqueur bottle sharpens the focus of the flavor as it hits the palate. Purists serve their Russians without garnish, but I have had them crowned with either a maraschino cherry or a sliver of candied orange. Because they echo the intrigues of coffeehouses, either digression is acceptable among the agents of the Urban Home Blog, but I haven’t included them on the master recipe as they are neither necessary nor, strictly speaking, true to the cocktail.
One weapon that is essential as you stock the arsenal of your home bar is a bottle of good vodka. In our Urban Home, the favorite vodkas are Absolut and Grey Goose, but for Icelandics, I mean Russians, we use Reyka. I always keep a bottle of coffee liqueur on hand, not just for Russians but for after-dinner drinks and to spike coffee. Kahlúa is a coffee and sugarcane liqueur from Mexico, and whereas you have latitude with your choice of vodka, if you use a different coffee liqueur to build your Russian you have changed not just its nationality but its species. Honor the connection with the hostess with the mostest by featuring Black Russians this holiday season. Whether you’re expecting guests or they drop by, set out the fixings for Black Russians along with a recipe card and watch, Madam Ambassador, as relations thaw.
BLACK RUSSIAN
Keeping your vodka in the freezer thickens it slightly and ensures that it is always ice-cold, as vodka should be.
1 scant shot iced vodka
1 shot Kahlúa
Cracked ice or ice cubes
1. Fill a rocks glass with cracked ice or ice cubes.
2. Pour vodka over the ice.
3. Pour Kahlúa over the vodka.
4. Swirl the liquors and ice together until the glass is too cold to handle. Serve immediately.
WHITE RUSSIAN – Build a Black Russian. Pour one shot of cream over the back of a bar spoon into the drink; stir with the spoon to combine the ingredients.
TALL BLACK RUSSIAN – Build a Black Russian in an old-fashioned glass. Add cola to fill line; swirl to combine the ingredients.
BROWN RUSSIAN -- Build a Black Russian in an old-fashioned glass. Add ginger ale to fill line; swirl to combine the ingredients.
BLACK MAGIC – Build a Black Russian; top with a floater of lemon juice and garnish with a lemon twist.
ESPRESSO MARTINI – Build a Black Russian in a cocktail shaker. Top with a freshly drawn espresso. Strain into a martini glass; serve up.
What does this have to do with drinking? Prior to government service, Perle Mesta
On a trip to Brussels, Mesta was staying at the legendary Hotel Metropole. So highly regarded was Mesta’s presence at this swankerie that the head bartender decided to create a signature cocktail to honor it. Thus was the Black Russian born. In that time of the unfolding cold war, the reference to commies and diplomats and the tundra between them could not have been more timely perceived or more artfully rendered. One imagines how delighted Madam Ambassador must have been to be handed this cocktail which was the perfect blend of fire and ice, that was sophisticated and ribald simultaneously, and that had been crafted in her honor.
Some agents might argue for toddies, but I believe that the Black Russian is the perfect cold-weather cocktail. It’s in the design of the drink. Can you think of vodka without envisioning icy climes from Siberia to Scandinavia? Can you think of coffee liqueur without thinking of a hot cuppa? As with many cocktails, it is shock-upon-impact that makes for a successful sip. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise, comrade: a Black Russian should be frigid to the taste and to the touch, colder than any other cocktail except a martini. The iced vodka provides the snow drift as the Kahlúa sleds in to provide the fur robe. The bracing icy slap is counterpointed by the welcome spread of warmth as the drink kicks in. Being icy but warming you up: it is that dichotomy – the winter solstice's compliment to the summer solstice's bowl of ice cream – that makes for an ideal winter drink.
This message will self-destruct in five seconds, but here is a recipe for the perfect Black Russian. Because it only contains two ingredients – vodka and Kahlúa – the success of your Black Russian depends upon the quality of the ingredients and their preparation. This is technically a “sweet” Black Russian, which plays with the official ratio of one part vodka to one part Kahlúa, because after much research I have found that a slightly heavier pour from the liqueur bottle sharpens the focus of the flavor as it hits the palate. Purists serve their Russians without garnish, but I have had them crowned with either a maraschino cherry or a sliver of candied orange. Because they echo the intrigues of coffeehouses, either digression is acceptable among the agents of the Urban Home Blog, but I haven’t included them on the master recipe as they are neither necessary nor, strictly speaking, true to the cocktail.
One weapon that is essential as you stock the arsenal of your home bar is a bottle of good vodka. In our Urban Home, the favorite vodkas are Absolut and Grey Goose, but for Icelandics, I mean Russians, we use Reyka. I always keep a bottle of coffee liqueur on hand, not just for Russians but for after-dinner drinks and to spike coffee. Kahlúa is a coffee and sugarcane liqueur from Mexico, and whereas you have latitude with your choice of vodka, if you use a different coffee liqueur to build your Russian you have changed not just its nationality but its species. Honor the connection with the hostess with the mostest by featuring Black Russians this holiday season. Whether you’re expecting guests or they drop by, set out the fixings for Black Russians along with a recipe card and watch, Madam Ambassador, as relations thaw.
BLACK RUSSIAN
Keeping your vodka in the freezer thickens it slightly and ensures that it is always ice-cold, as vodka should be.
1 scant shot iced vodka
1 shot Kahlúa
Cracked ice or ice cubes
1. Fill a rocks glass with cracked ice or ice cubes.
2. Pour vodka over the ice.
3. Pour Kahlúa over the vodka.
4. Swirl the liquors and ice together until the glass is too cold to handle. Serve immediately.
WHITE RUSSIAN – Build a Black Russian. Pour one shot of cream over the back of a bar spoon into the drink; stir with the spoon to combine the ingredients.
TALL BLACK RUSSIAN – Build a Black Russian in an old-fashioned glass. Add cola to fill line; swirl to combine the ingredients.
BROWN RUSSIAN -- Build a Black Russian in an old-fashioned glass. Add ginger ale to fill line; swirl to combine the ingredients.
BLACK MAGIC – Build a Black Russian; top with a floater of lemon juice and garnish with a lemon twist.
ESPRESSO MARTINI – Build a Black Russian in a cocktail shaker. Top with a freshly drawn espresso. Strain into a martini glass; serve up.
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