SIMON'S FOOD SCHOOL:
Stuff You Didn't Know You Didn't Know About Food (and in this case, About Drink)
Those of you who follow my Instagram account will know that very few meals I eat in restaurants begin without me sipping on a Martini (for the record, they are always made with Ford’s, Plymouth or Beefeater Gin, in a 3:1 ration with Noilly Pratt vermouth and always served with a lemon twist). A well-made Martini is by far my favorite cocktail. But, I have also been known to move on to a Rob Roy (basically a Manhattan made with Scotch) a Sazerac (New Orleans in a glass) or an Old Fashioned (arguably the progenitor of all modern cocktails).
A great cocktail is not only the perfect way to start off a meal, but also provides an excellent companion in times when all you want to do is sit alone and ponder on life in general. And, when I do, I often wonder from where the notion that is the glory of the mixed drink originated.
Fortunately, I am not alone. There are many well-known spirit and cocktail historians (yes, that’s really a thing) who have dedicated untold hours to finding out all about the origins of cocktails, all so that you and I can bore people at bars and parties while smugly sipping on a chilled drink.
My favorite of these historians is David Wondrich, who has written many books on the subject (all well worth checking out) and followed up on a number of theories on journeys which have taken him from upstate New York, the humid climes of New Orleans and the streets of South London following up on the earliest potential references to the word cocktail. Each adventure has brought up a possible big bang moment for mixed drinks: from drinks served to weary travelers in an inn in Lewington, NY, to combinations of alcohol, sugar and bitters (perhaps the truest definition of a cocktail) mixed by a Mr. Peychaud in New Orleans and served in egg cups known in French as “coquetier” to my favorite, an 18th century bar tab from an inn in London which refers to a “cock-tail, vulgarly known as ginger.
This notion of ginger, Mr. Wondrich believes, refers to the idea of adding a piece of fresh ginger to a drink to add warmth. A notion that was later overtaken in the United States by the addition of bitters. And its name “cocktail” was taken from the practice at horse sales of shoving a piece of fresh ginger up the derriere of a jaded old nag to make it cock its tail to appear more perky and attractive to potential buyers. The presumption being that adding ginger to a drink would help revive the spirits of someone who was having a bad day, or who had too good a day the night before.
This notion that a whole (sometimes rather self-regarding) industry might have its origins in shoving something up a horse’s backside is almost too good not to be true, so I am going to declare now that it is. And, while there is already an alcohol-free cocktail known as a “Horse’s Ass” I think we now need to create a British version called a “Horse’s Arse” which pays tribute to where it all (probably) started.
THE HORSE’S ARSE MARTINI
Ingredients
3 oz of Gin (see above for my preferences)
½ oz King’s Ginger
½ oz Noilly Pratt
Ginger Beer
Method
- Shake or stir the gin, vermouth and ginger cordial over ice.
- Strain into a Martini Glass.
- Top up with Ginger beer.
- Serve with a lemon twist.
