Drinking Poetic: The Banana Dance

I’m prouder of the Banana Dance than almost any other drink that I’ve created. More so than I probably have any right to be. It’s an esoteric, nerdy, centrifuge requiring, relatively prep heavy drink that is ultimately delicious, complicated, and easy to batch and execute in a way that belies its complexity. Its evolution is also a damn good microcosm of my personal journey behind the bar in the past few years. 

The Banana Dance began life as the Josephine Baker as an entry for Diageo’s World Class competition three years ago. I had entered my very first competition the year before, a little competition known as World Class and having made it to the Western Regionals I was determined to make it back and prove myself. Prove that I wasn’t just some beach side Santa Monica bartender slinging Vodka Soda’s all day long. I certainly had a chip on my shoulder when I was younger. 

For my entry the following year I looked at the spirits available and decided that I wanted to play to my strengths with a stirred drink and ended up riffing on the modern classic the Chet Baker.  I knew the base was going to be Ron Zacapa Centenario and I wanted a drink name, and a flavor profile, that would compliment the story and flavors of the rum. Enter Josephine Baker. 

Josephine Baker

Josephine Baker was an African-American ex-Pat who rose to fame as a dancer and performer in Paris in the 1920’s. Earnest Hemingway once called her, “the most sensational woman anyone ever saw.” While being a multifaceted performer her most famous act, and photos, are of her dancing in a banana skirt. Josephine was more than a performer though. During WWII Josephine used the freedom granted to her as a performer to spy for the Allied troops and help smuggle refugees out of France. She was also incredibly active in the American Civil Rights movement later in life. Pairing this phenomenal woman’s story with a rum crafted by one of the few female master blenders in the world was a no brainer. 

Too add to that the Giffard Creme de Banan had just be released which provided a perfect flavor, and thematic, compliment to tie the two together. Add in a little amontillado sherry and a passable Old Fashioned style variation on the Chet Baker was born. It was serviceable but unfortunately didn’t make the cut leaving me out of the competition that year. I knew there was something special in there though and couldn’t let the idea go. 

The next year I ended up using some discretionary income to help fund Dave Arnold’s kickstarter for the Spinzall tabletop centrifuge because, well, I’m a nerd. I had already been experimenting with every technique that I possible could from Liquid Intelligence and had voraciously devoured every technique book I could get my hands on. I was actively experimenting with melding flavors in every way that I could. However, there were two pieces of technology that seemed like they would forever bne outside my reach: the rotovap and a centrifuge.  Now here was one of those unicorns just sitting on my kitchen counter. I went nuts. 

I played with infusing and clarifying everything but one of the most successful experiments was that original pairing of Sherry and banana. It was a relatively simple process, slightly overripe bananas were blended/ together with sherry and Pectin X and the resulting smoothie was run through the Spinzall clarifying the mixture. Here phenomenal fresh banana flavor married perfectly with the sherry with out adding any unnecessary sweetness like other creme products.  

The experiments took a hiatus however as I joined Team NoMad as one of the opening Bar Managers for NoMad LA. The training, translating and entire hospitality culture from NYC to LA, and opening four separate venues in a single building consumed my and my team’s attention for months. It was in this period that I also learned to collaborate in a way I never had before.  

Not only was this team larger than any I had ever worked with before, it was also the most talented. And while I was a leader this was not a program that was about me or my force of personality as so many venues I had worked on in the past were. This was about the guest experience and about working as a team to create the best product and experience possible. It was demanding, meticulous, and honestly exhausting. The light at the end of the tunnel was R&D. 

I love doing drink R&D. I love throwing things at the wall to see what sticks, I love creating crazy ingredients, and I love what seeing other people do with those ingredients. Once we were in a place to start R&Ding drinks specifically for LA I dove in head first. But you never walk into a R&D session with out a concept. The drink hiding up my sleeve that seemed to most fit this NoMad model I had learned was the Josephine Baker, updated with the new clarified Banana Sherry of course. 

If you check the NoMad compendium they make phenomenal drinks. They also rely heavily on sherry and a lot of small culinary touches. This comes from the collaborative R&D process as well as the fact that NoMad bar was birthed out of the bar at Eleven Madison Park which is absolutely driven by the mentality of its award winning kitchen. 

This was going to be the first time putting any of my drinks through this culinary tasting style with a group of incredibly talented, and opinionated, peers. I’m still amazed to this day how the process can create a drink that is both unrecognizable from the original yet still wholly in the same spirit and design. 

The first thing that became clear was that style of sherry needed to be dialed in. We quickly moved away from the darker amontillado in favor of an oloroso which left more acidity with the banana. The Banana Sherry was a crowd favorite and we decided to make it the star of the show. The banana sherry became the base of the drink instead of a modifier. 

To add back in some of the richness that the clarification process had stripped out of the sherry we turned to another classic NoMad ingredient, Brown Butter Falernum. Essentially a brown butter washed Velvet Falernum that add in baking spices, a rich mouth feel and tied back into that original idea of bruleed bananas and sherry that had inspired the flavor pairing. 

Finding the right balance was tricky because the Falernum can easily overwhelm. As a through line between the Sherry and the Falernum was added Blanc Vermouth. A touch of bitter to go with the vanilla that lengthened the flavors. It wasn’t quite bitter enough so a quarter ounce of Punt e Mes was also added to round out the effect. This firmly moved the drink out of the Old Fashioned style and into the Manhattan style, a subtle but important distinction. 

At this point I gave into my true desire to make every drink a whiskey drink and pulled the Zacapa and subbed it with Greenspot Irish Whiskey. This Pure Pot Stilled Irish Whiskey is aged in New American Oak. It has an intrinsic bright green banana note as well as the barrel tannins to be a base for all of these complex flavors to stand on. 

At this point the drink was good but the culinary drive for perfection kicked in and we went through countless more variations. The difference between them being a teaspoon of this versus a dash of that. The final touches were a teaspoon of Walnut Liquor to bring a bit more tannin and a nuttiness to compliment the banana as well as a teaspoon of Verjus Blanc to add in a hint of acidity to cut through all of the rich fruits and fats. 

The drink was now a lovely fruit forward, complex, surprisingly dry, low ABV stirred drink that still had enough depth and tannin to stand on its own as well as pair with food. It was a real crowd pleaser while still being esoteric and weird. It was my kind of drink. It just needed a garnish and a name. 

The garnish was easy. While I personally love an incredibly dry drink I know not everyone does. And the drink ingredients could read sweeter than the final product. So, to appease both types of drinkers a single brush stroke of chocolate ganache was added to the outside of the glass. This allowed the guest to choose their own adventure. If they wanted the drink slightly sweeter they could indulge in the chocolate or leave it alone. It also ads a look of elegance has an elegance that can sit just at the tip of the lips. 

The name quickly followed. While the drink had come miles and even years from its roots with Josephine her spirit, her dance, still infused every ounce of this drink and thus it was christened the Banana Dance. 

I love this drink. I think that the prep needed for it is relatively small considering the final product. Especially for the Banana Sherry. I was fortunate enough to finally utilize a version of this drink, with the Banana Sherry and Zacapa, at the World Class National Finals this past year bringing the drinks journey full circle. 

I’ll never create a drink that’s a modern classic but I hopefully will create things that inspire people and tickle their imagination. The NoMad just published a brand-new cocktail book and while sadly the Banana Dance didn’t make the cut the Banana Sherry did. Bright and bold at the top of the ingredients section is the recipe for Banana Sherry. 

Hopefully this little dance will continue to inspire people not only in my extended NoMad family but the entire cocktail community that has embraced me and given me so many opportunities this past decade. 

Photo Credit: Jordan Hughes
@highproofpreacher

The Banana Dance:

1.5 oz Banana Infused Oloroso Sherry (Preferably Lustau)
.5 oz Greenspot Pure Pot Still Irish Whiskey
.5 oz Blanc Vermouth
.5 oz Brown Butter Washed Velvet Falernum
.25 oz Punt e Mes
Tsp Verjus Blanc
Tsp Nocino

Combine All ingredients in a mixing glass.
Short stir with Kold Draft Ice.
Strain into stemmed cocktail glass painted with a chocolate ganache brushstroke.

Banana Sherry:

750 ml Oloroso Sherry
3 overripe bananas
3ml Pectin X

Blend all ingredients together.
Into the Spinzall spindle add 375ml and set to continuous mode.
Once the centrifuge reaches full speed pump the rest of the mixture in at 80ml/minute. The should run clear.
Once all liquid has been pumped into the centrifuge let it run for another 5 minutes then power down and strain the remaining liquid through a chinoios.
Bottle and store under refrigeration for up to three (3) weeks.

Brown Butter Falernum:

750ml Velvet Falernum
.5lbs unsalted butter

Cube butter and place in pot over medium heat. 
Melt and constantly whisk butter so that milk solids brown evenly
Continue to brown, whisking constantly, until as dark as the color of an almond skin
Remove from heat, and add velvet falernum
Transfer to cambro and place in freezer until the fat has risen and solidified on the top 
Remove solidified fat cap from top and discard
Bottle and store under refrigeration for up to one (1) month

Whiskey Wednesday: The Old Bushmill’s Story

Irish Whiskey is my least favorite category of whiskey.

To be fair that’s only because I think about Canadian Whisky so infrequently that I genuinely forget that it’s a thing. Yet, there are some true gems in the category. Redbreast should be a staple at any bar. Tyrconnell Madeira Cask is one of my favorites bottles of any category, and I can’t count the number of shots of Power’s I’ve had. The problem is that these don’t define the category of Irish Whiskey. Accounting for 82% of sales in the United States Jameson’s Irish Whiskey is essentially the entire category of Irish Whiskey. And Jameson’s just isn’t for me.

            Call me elitist, I’m sure part of my distaste for Jameson is it’s ubiquity, but it isn’t very interesting to me. It’s light, forgettable and honestly a little harsh. And while I might love the aforementioned bottles the first two aren’t affordable mixers and trying to convince a Jameson drinker to have a dram of Power’s instead is a lesson in futility. People aren’t cold calling high end Irish whiskey the way they are Japanese, Scotch, or Bourbon so it becomes an afterthought. Which brings me to Bushmill’s.

            I got a call from friends at Half Full, The Daily Beast’s Food and Drink section, asking me what I thought about Bushmills. And my answer was, “I honestly haven’t thought about it in a while.” They then asked if I’d be interested in coming on a trip to film a documentary and explore Bushmill’s and I said of course because who doesn’t want an excuse to go to Ireland?

            But beyond the boondoggle of a trip there was a genuine curiosity. Irish Whiskey is currently the fastest growing spirit category in the world. The industry went from a measly four distilleries on the whole island in 2013 to 16 distilleries in production today with another 13 on the way. While these numbers pale in comparison to the sales and production numbers of Scotch and Bourbon clearly many people with a lot of money feel that this is not just single brand growth but a reemerging category. I wanted to see what was giving these people such confidence.

Giant’s Causeway

We spent two days at the Old Bushmills Distillery and the surrounding countryside. The distillery takes its name from the River Bush and all the water used on site comes from the rivers tribute Saint Columb’s Rill. Although the date 1608, the year King James I granted a writ to distill whiskey to Sir Thomas Philips, is emblazoned everywhere, the Bushmill’s Old Distilling Company wasn’t establish until 1784. No matter which date you take as the distillery’s origin Old Bushmill’s is the only distillery in all of Ireland that was in operation before 1974 and was one of the three that kept production alive.

Irish Whiskey has always been deeply tied to the American market and American Prohibition tanked the industry. 400 brands made by over 160 distilleries became three distilleries all owned and operated by a single group, Irish Distillers, with their purchase of Bushmill’s in 1972. Irish Distillers was purchased by Pernod Ricard in 1988 with Bushmill’s then purchased by Diageo in 2005. They began a massive ad campaign to gain market share  but even the largest liquor company in the world couldn’t seem to boost the brand and it was sold to Jose Cuervo in 2014 after Bushmill’s sold 1.3 million liter cases in the U.S. compared to Jameson’s 18 million.

Everyone loves a good underdog story and while technically being in second place Bushmill’s was a very clear underdog. A part of me was hoping I’d find some spark that craft spirit authenticity or other such nonsense that would make it worth the uphill battle to recommend Bushmill’s White Label over Jameson’s iconic green bottle. What I found out is that the White label isn’t what you should be drinking.

Old Bushmill’s bottle is old.

Bushmill’s is a single malt distillery. They age grain whiskey on site for blending but every drop of whiskey that’s distilled at the distillery is Irish Single Malt. This is unusual because most non-blended Irish whiskey is Single Pot Still, which is a distillate made up of  both Malted and Unmalted Barley. This style originated as a middle finger to the English who put a tax on malted barley in 1785. Despite the added expense Bushmill’s has only ever made Single Malt.  

Irish Single Malt is also distinct from (most) Scotch Single Malt in that it is triple distilled instead of double distilled. This creates a lighter whiskey as it’s gone through an additional set of cuts and stripping. This malt forms the base of all of the blends and single malt line at Bushmill’s . And every bottle of Bushmill’s is put together by the first female master Blender in all of Irish Whiskey history. She’s sitting comfortable with over 25 years of experience tripping across her palette and when she proclaims the 10 year old single malt to be her personal favorite there’s a weight that goes along with that statement.

The 10 Year Old fills a very interesting place for Irish Whiskey. It’s affordable, mixable, and quaffable on it’s own it could honestly be that missing midpoint for Irish whiskey that bridges the shots and the Super Premium category. Yet from what I tasted it the true gem of the line is the 16 Year old Single Malt.

Pot Stills for days.

Aged for a minimum of 16 years a blend of ex-Bourbon and Olorosso barrel aged single malt is blended together and then further aged for an additional 6 months in used port barrels. It was the first thing I was poured after nearly 18 hours of travel and was one of those moments of surprise and disbelief at how good it was. In conversation with Noah Rothbaum, Senior Editor at Half Full, he expressed how it reminded him of the experience of discovering Hibiki 12 years ago before we drank it all-I had to agree with him. But not trusting my jetlagged senses I proceed drink at least a bottle over the next few days and to bring a bottle home for continued research.

NOSE: Dark Fruit, Raisin, Plum, and a touch of vanilla.

PALETTE: Dried Red Fruit, a slightly nutty undertone with a bright sherry through line to cut through the toffee, vanilla, and richness of the malt.

FINISH: Long and lingering, leaving the dried fruit and a slight amount of tannin and spice.

Ultimately I came away from Bushmill’s, and Ireland, with another story. A spirit is ultimately the distillation of the people who make it. A distillation of their culture, their taste, their landscape, and their time. Getting to know them, getting to experience them, ultimately opens doors to experience a spirit they way they do. In the end, Jameson is still my least favorite Irish Whiskey but, like life, whiskey is really shades of grey. A single dominant force can not define either. 

Whiskey Wednesday: Tyrconnell’s Long Odds

Every now and then I like to remind myself that Irish Whiskey isn’t spelt “Jameson’s.” I’ve talked about the explosive growth of Irish Whiskey before but here are some quick facts.

While everyone is gaga for Japanese whiskey as a luxury product Irish whiskey is expecting to double its sales by 2020. In 2014 Jameson’s sold 18 million liters in the US alone. The Scots and the Irish will fight until the Sun goes cold over who first created whiskey but there’s no debating the fact that it was Irish monks that tought most of the Western World how to distill. Hell, even the word “whiskey” is an Anglicization of “uisge beatha” which is Gaelic for water of life. The Irish are indelibly linked to whiskey so what’s the problem? It’s a monoculture.

Need proof? In 2014 Jameson’s closest competitor, Bushmill’s, sold a whopping 1.3 million cases. Jameson’s currently accounts for 63% of the global Irish whiskey market. Monocultures are great for business but are incredibly susceptible to full scale collapse. Look at what’s happening to the Chiquita bananas or how the agave industry is actively working to reinvigorate the gene pool with the Bat project.

Irish whiskey has traditionally lived and died with the American market and like so many other things it was ruined by Prohibition. On top of that throw in the Irish War for independence, a civil war, trade disputes with Great Britain, and you end up with an industry made up of over 160 distilleries and 400 brands reduced to a mere two distilleries in the mid-70’s.

The remains of the Irish whiskey industry banded together to form Irish Distillers which was then purchased by Pernod Ricard in the late 80’s. They then began the massive push to get people to drink Irish. It worked and since 1990 Irish whiskey has been the fastest growing spirit in the world. It’s ballooned the industry with 32 new or proposed distilleries across Ireland. Not bad for an industry long sustained by only four distilleries and of those four only one has been in operation longer that 1975.

It’s a old industry with new blood and the near death of the industry left many historic brands and styles in the grave. Irish Single Malts and Tyrconnell are great examples. Tyrconnell was the flagship brand of the Old Watts Distillery, It takes it name from a racehorse who won the National Produce Stakes in 1876 at literally  at 100 to 1 odds. It was incredibly popular in the US, there are photos of Yankee Stadium at the turn of the century with Tyrconnell ads on the billboards. But prohibition shuttered the brand and the distillery in 1925. The Brand was revived by the Cooley distillery in the 80’s.

It’s made in traditional Single Malt Style, 100% malted barley and double copper pot still distillation with no peat, and then aged in ex-Bourbon Barrels. The 10 Year Old Madeira Cask Finish is my real jam though. A light, fruit forward whiskey with bitter chocolate, green, tropical fruit, and a incredibly creamy finish. It’s one of those whiskies that slips below the radar while being incredibly excellent. And they’ve gotten to the place where they are now planning on a limited release of a 16-year old Single Malt. And maybe that’s the silver lining to the Jameson’s problem.

All of this growth in the Irish whiskey world is being fueled and often literally paid for by sales of Jameson’s. For many people that’s all Irish whiskey will ever be which leaves a lot of hidden gems to be found flowing from the Emerald Isle. The world has caught on to Bourbon, its caught on the Japanese whisky, hell its even caught on to Taiwanese whiskey, but not Irish. Not yet anyway…

The days of Yamazaki and Weller Antique being undervalued have faded and instead of being sipped and shared it’s now being hoarded and auctioned. And i miss sipping and sharing. And at least with Tyrconnell I still can.