Proposed by: David
Reviewed by: Jonathan
The Greenback is the rarest of cocktails for this blog—it has no provenance I can find, no noted inventor, no disputatious history or colorful but apocryphal naming myth. It is, in short, just a drink.
That’s not so bad, as it allows me to invent:
One, British import-export agents developed the Greenback in a remote South American tropical outpost because they admired the local sloths whose inactivity invited the growth of green stuff in the fur on their backs.
Two, some guy named Sid (later famous for inventing butterscotch schnaps) came up with it in the Dekuyper research and development lab during the late 60’s when Sid’s boss yelled daily for more uses for crème de menthe.
Three, the Greenback was invented by those giant-eyed space aliens in honor of the feature of their mates they love most.
Here’s the origin myth I’ve decided to launch into cyberspace. It involves some nameless home bartender bemoaning an imbalance of ingredients in his liquor cabinet, stuff he’s not quite sure what to do with. There’s lemon and gin in this drink, and they’re common enough, but crème de menthe is one of those bottles he wants to hide when company comes over. My recipe also includes absinthe, which, even if you like it (I do) just doesn’t come up all that often.
So, anyway, this imaginary beleaguered bartender combines these ingredients to devise a lovely emerald concoction which he dubs The Greenback because it reminded him of the Civil War monetary policy continuing into the latter half of the 19th century that introduced unsecured green paper money backed—supposedly—by federal deposits of gold that—supposedly, but probably not—became the basis for the emerald city in The Wizard of Oz, according to dubious allegorical readings of the novels.
Here’s the recipe:
½ oz. absinthe
1 oz. lemon (or lime)
1 oz. crème de menthe
1 and ½ oz. gin
Add all the ingredients to a shaker with ice, shake and serve in martini glasses.
And here’s Jonathan’s review:
It is fairly common that David and I communicate during the week (e-mails because, face it, who calls anymore) about the cocktail of the week, the exact recipe and what we plan for future weeks. We occasionally even sneak in a few comments about the rest of our lives. That is, in the end, the real purpose of our virtual cocktail club – that we talk more than we have in the past. Not so much because we aren’t close, but because we are both bad communicators especially for two people who rely on, and manage well, that skill on a daily basis.
This week communication was difficult, David was busy and I had a professionally challenging week, but most of the conversation was about the recipe. Specifically, where do you see Absinthe in this drink? I should have asked the more challenging question about why on earth we were using Crème de Menthe again. Ever.
The drink is almost lost in my picture, but as much as you can, look at the color. If we eat with our eyes first, we also drink with them first and no drink should be that color. The Crème de Menthe is as forward in this drink as the color would suggest. I had tried this week to find what type of gin worked best (our previous drinks would suggest that every gin drink calls for some specific type) but could not find a single recipe that did that. That is for good reason, in that the gin is completely lost. And the lemon, or lime in some cases, in the recipe? It adds just enough astringency to the Crème to make you feel as though you just flossed and are enjoying your Listerine rinse.
The funny thing, as I tried it a few more times before tossing the rest, is that I was sure David would like this drink. I don’t know why or how, but there was something so peculiar that I was confident he would taste a redeeming quality. Not me.
Jonathan’s take: This is our second drink with Crème de Menthe (Irish Eyes was the first). I have a bottle available for whoever wants it.
David’s take: Oddly, I liked this drink. Crème de Menthe is awful stuff to be sure, but—to me—this drink found a suitable disguise.
Next week (proposed by Jonathan):
My thought was that this is the time of year when so many publications, print and on-line, list their drinks of summer. I asked my wife for suggestions, and one Pinterest page later, we settled on a cocktail with watermelon and basil. It’s a basil watermelon cooler and it hardly qualifies as a hard core. But it sure looks like a good way to use all of that basil I have growing, and with this heat any excuse for watermelon is a good one.