I like shortbread in all its forms. Keep your chocolate chip cookies; Pecan Sandies are the epitome of everything a cookie is and aspires to be. Their only challenger is plain oatmeal cookies (yes, plain, with no raisins). Sandies are also a great companion to my other love in life - tea. Unlike other, impervious cookies, they readily take to dunking and exist in a perfect symbiosis with the tea, transporting a person to a quiet morning in the glen. This week’s cocktail provides the evening version of this setting. Something for when the shadows begin to engulf the moorlands and heath.

Scottish shortbread originated there, with some likely help from the French (in the western world, they are ever-present in the culinary background), especially during the Auld Alliance. As a kid growing up poor in Appalachia, sandies were a great treat. My grandmother was a shortbread priestess in all its forms, and our baking season always had some shortbread - I lacked the control to have them year-round, a problem I estimate is endemic to anyone near shortbread.

Walnuts, and to an Appalachian, that means black walnuts, hold a special place in my heart. I grew up on a farm on the rim of the Gauley River National Recreation Area, just downstream of where the Meadow River meets the Gauley. My grandfather chose the site, moving from Lansing, very near the New River Gorge National Park (America’s newest national park), to a small farm FILLED with black walnut trees. Each year, we’d gather the black walnuts and family far and wide would come to hull (the hulls make a great liqueur, by the way, see below), shell, and harvest the nuts. Sitting in circles, eating as many as we kept. Even when I was older, my father would sit all winter cracking them, especially for my grandmother to use for baking cakes and other great things. I’ve slipped them into this drink as bitters (you don’t need them to enjoy it). They are, in all respects, much more regal than pecans (sorry, southern friends).

* Adjust proportions based on how much of the stuff you want around - it’s great to have on your shelf. I’ll leave the great butter war debates (Land o’ Lakes vs Kerrygold, etc.) for the comments.

Begin, at minimum, the morning of, and preferably the day before, you’d like to make the cocktail. For the brown butter-washed Scotch, place [amount] of butter in a saucepan or saucier and melt it, allowing it to turn golden and develop small chunks from the milk solids (do not burn them). While still hot, add the melted browned butter to a jar. Add the Scotch to the jar, then gently rotate the jar to get the brown butter circulating throughout the Scotch. Do not shake or blend it too vigorously, as this will promote emulsification and make it take much longer for the butter to separate and clear. Gentle rotation and stirring is fine and does the job. Leave this sit for a half day to a full day. Then, place it in the freezer. Once the browned butter solidifies, strain the Scotch through a strainer, then through a coffee filter (optional if you prefer it as clear as possible). It’s then ready to use in your drink. It’s super clear if you leave it sitting for a few days after filtering.

Also, if you have a sous vide, it works great to keep the brown butter in suspension a bit longer and derive more flavor. Use it anywhere from 130–140°F (54–60°C) for a couple of hours. A stir plate is also good, but the butter will slowly solidify and gum up the stir bar. None of this equipment is required. The room temperature method above will work just fine. But, see here: 

For the cinnamon-sugar rim, you can mix your own cinnamon sugar from pantry ingredients or buy it from a place like Penzey’s. Bars usually have a small disc contraption that lets them press the rim of the glass into a pre-soaked foam sponge, which helps rimmed garnishes stick. You don’t need that. Slice a small sliver of orange and simply rub it on your rim in the places where you’d like the cinnamon-sugar. Then add the cinnamon-sugar to a small plate and roll the dampened area in it. Set this glass in the freezer to chill while you build the cocktail.

This is a stirred drink. Combine all ingredients, sans garnish, in a mixing glass. Add ice and stir the drink until it’s well-chilled. Retrieve the chilled glass and add a large iceberg of hand-crafted ice. Fine-strain the drink over the ice. Express the orange peel over the top of the drink to release the oils, then discard the peel. Garnish with three red raspberries. Enjoy.

First, the Scotch - this is not the place for your best single malt, and especially, not the place for a smoky Scotch (an Islay, peated Scotch, for example). A blended Scotch works really well in this drink. I used Monkey Shoulder, which is doughy with vanilla notes, making it a good choice for this drink. You could also use Irish Whiskey here; it’s smooth and soft, with just enough warmth to carry the other flavors through.

Nocello is a great English walnut-flavored liqueur. There are certainly options, however. You have some choices that will leave the drink more bitter or, alternatively, drier. Nocino will add some bitterness (it’s Italy’s version of the black walnut-hull liqueur popular in North America, made with English walnuts). You could also use a personal favorite of mine, Nux Alpina, an Austrian walnut liqueur. Both of these will leave the drink more bitter. If you’d like a slightly drier drink, Oloroso Sherry will give you the same nutty flavors (though not distinctly walnut) and dry the drink out a bit without being more bitter.

As I mentioned above, you don’t NEED walnut bitters to make this drink. Toasted Almond bitters would work well. And if you have none of those, standard Angostura or Old Fashioned bitters would add a bit of spice that would be nice and work well with the cinnamon-sugar rim.

The texture is smooth and silky, like the cookie on your lips. You’ll get a buttery, baked good, vanilla note up front with the Scotch. Then Licor 43 doubles down on the vanilla and adds baking spices. The walnut notes come in at the end as the cinnamon warms your lips. The orange bitters and oils from the peel keep it fresh while still signaling baked goods in a way that lemon would not. The raspberries will cut the richness, remind you of preserves, and bring you back for another sip. It really is like a Pecan Sandie in a glass if it were made with the superior walnut. Your first sip of this drink will be slightly sweet, but your third sip, with the ice diluting it, will be perfect and hold your hand, leading you to your second Scottish Sandie.

Let me know in the comments if you can tell which classic, two-ingredient cocktail inspired this drink. There’s a tiny hint in the lead-in.

This blog is, as ever, an opinionated take on drinks.