I remember when Punt e’ Mes wasn’t readily available stateside (I am very old, but not so old as to remember even earlier, when it probably was more available, before the more recent availability rebound, and if that all made sense, you probably haven’t had as many Punt e’ Mes Highballs as me, or you’ve had more and can now see and understand all thing), and during that time calling at the bar for the Punt e’ Mes Highball would garner strange looks. However! Even though this delicious sweet vermouth – though with it’s sweetness, hints o citrus, trailing into a smidge of bitterness nature, it shades amaro, too – is now on more bar shelves, if you order a Punt e’ Mes Highball, you still might garner some strange and curious looks. I wonder if bartenders might not know what a highball is today? I kid, I kid! I think it’s just because not many in the U.S. really think, unless they see it on a menu, to order something so simple, so classic in a way that’s not often highlighted, so easy going? Perhaps. But you, yes you, can help, by ordering one of these yourself this summer. Trust me, it’s delicious: light, bit citrus, bit spicy, bit bubbly, bit sweet, bit bitter, all refreshing, ideal for the sunshine-y months. If you and I both start ordering them, maybe I’ll stop getting those strange looks. And, as a bonus, we’ll both be super happy when sipping, too.
1. Fill a smallish highball glass or a big rocks glass three-quarter-ish up with ice cubes. Add the Punt e’ Mes.
2. Top with the ginger ale. Stir. Be happy.
A Note: Go for a good gingery ginger ale here, not one that’s too sweet. If you’re in Italy, hey, lucky you! Also, in every Italian grocery store you can find these little bottles of ginger ale, and they go perfectly here. If you’re not in Italy, you might even want to go ginger beer, as the ginger ales over here sadly can descend into sugary messes. There are some dandy, non-massively-corporate ones, too, I should say. Ginger beers, too. Rachel’s Ginger Beer would be amazing in here, as an example!
I don’t actually have a tipsy Italian uncle that I’ve named this after, and because of that, I wake up sorrowful every day. Okay, that’s not true! I did receive a bottle of Uncle Nearest 1856 whiskey in the mail recently though. That’s true! I know, getting whiskey in the mail should make me happy – and it does. True!
Uncle Nearest has a great story. It was made in honor of Nathan “Nearest” Green, a former slave who as the story goes taught Jack Daniel how to distill. Amazing! While it was launched in Portland, OR, it’s made in Tennessee using at least 51% corn, filtered via sugar maple charcoal, aged in new American oak, and bottled at 100 proof. That proof gives it a nice sturdy backbone, mellowed by vanilla and rounded out with hints of sesame and cinnamon in the flavor. It’s a sipper, for sure, and one that’ll warm you and your uncles.
When mixing with it, I wanted to keep that umph and personality, but take a little edge off, and bring some herbal helpers into the party. And I went Italian (as I often do), with Montenegro amaro (which lies on the sweeter side of the amaro scale) and Punt e’ Mes vermouth. Also brought old pal Peychaud along, too. End result is robust, with layers and layers of flavor. I think tipsy uncles everywhere would be proud.
In a way, I feel if I say the phrase “An American Bobby Burns” I should be talking about a poet, taking the long absent mantle of political-drinking-lyrical combination of sorts from Robert Burns, who goes from grain to glass in a singular way (probably it would be Ed Skoog, I suppose, as he’s the best poet in the world anyway). But instead, I’m talking about the Bobby Burns cocktail, one of my all-time favorites. Its traditional mingling of Scotch, sweet vermouth, and Bénédictine is a truly beautiful thing. However, I recently made one not with Scotch, but instead with an American single-malt whiskey, specifically Seattle-based Westland distillery’s inaugural release, Deacon Seat single-malt whiskey. Deacon Seat is a very approachable, layered whiskey, with citrus and pastry and marmalade flavorings that match amazingly with the herbal-ness of Punt e’ Mes sweet vermouth (my vermouth pick this time) and the spiritual savoryness of Bénédictine. I have to think any poet would approve.
The American Bobby Burns
Ice cubes
2-1/2 ounces Westland Deacon Seat single malt whiskey
1 ounce Punt e’ Mes sweet vermouth
1/4 ounce Bénédictine
Lemon twist, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the Deacon Seat, Punt ‘e Mes, and Bénédictine. Shake well.
2. Strain the mix into a cocktail glass. Squeeze the lemon twist over it and let it float into the glass.
A Note: You can also stir this one over ice, instead of shaking. But I think the poets like to show off their shaking skills.
