When I first took my current job, my wife noted that it probably meant I’d need to alter my wardrobe a bit. Younger me mostly wore jeans and flannel, plaid shirts. In my current role, I have to look a bit less like I’m about to chop down a tree with an axe. I began to develop a collection of three-piece suits. Not a large collection, mind you, but enough to provide variation through Appalachia’s seasons. In winter, it’s Harris Tweed. Spring and fall call for cotton. And in summer, it’s Irish Linen.

For whatever impractical reason, I’ve always wanted my own tuxedo, especially with a shawl neck lapel. Perhaps it’s my adoration of the James Bond movies and my love of Martinis, though I prefer mine stirred. This week’s cocktail is as close as I’ve gotten so far, though the Tuxedo is not named for an evening suit.

The Tuxedo made its first appearance in print in 1900 in Harry Johnson’s New and Improved Bartenders’ Manual. The drink gets its name from the early country club, the Tuxedo Club in Orange County, New York. It is linked to the suit, however, which a member apparently brought back from England on a visit to the Prince of Wales. There is little doubt that the drink is much, much older than 1900, however. It’s a riff on a 50/50 Martini - an older spec for that drink. As I mentioned below, it is a fairly amorphous drink, or rather a chameleon. I’m not sure if having 5 distinct specs means there isn’t a spec or that there are many drinks. After all, a Jack of All Trades is indeed a Master of None. 

The Tuxedo, whichever formulation you use (and we’ll eventually make them all), is one of my favorite cocktails. It’s in the same group of pre-prohibition cocktails stemming from the Martini that I’ve covered on these pages before (e.g., 1906 Martini, Marguerite, and the Alaska cocktail). I love these mostly because they provide a restrained gin backbone that allows the supporting components to flourish in the overall flavor profile. This week, we do the original Tuxedo cocktail - likely dating at the latest from the 1880s.

Let’s tip one. 

Thoroughly chill your glass. This is a stirred drink. Load the mixing glass with your ingredients, sans garnish. It looks like a lot, but it’s a dash of this and a dash of that. You can get the maraschino liqueur and absinthe in there a couple of ways. The original recipe calls for a dash of each liqueur. Usually, a “dash” is about 1 mL. By far, the easiest way around this complicated cocktail volumetric issue is to know that 1 mL is about 1/5 teaspoon. So, add ⅛ teaspoon if you just want a hint of flavor or ¼ teaspoon for a fuller flavor. I’ve opted for the latter here. Of course, if you have maraschino liqueur and absinthe in a dasher bottle, dash away. Add your ice and stir the drink until well-chilled. Fine strain into your glass, express the lemon oil from the peel, and garnish with a twist. Enjoy!

We discussed the malt-versus-botanical balance in gins when we made the Garrick Club Punch. Here, we’re smack in the middle with an Old Tom gin—slightly maltier than a London Dry but not as malty as a Hollands or Old Genever. A quick way to alter the balance is to replace the Old Tom with one of these. The second is by using a dry versus Blanc vermouth. Blanc vermouth is just a tad bit sweeter than dry vermouth, but not at all a “sweet” vermouth. It also lacks the intense herbal notes of a true sweet vermouth.

As for the rest, this particular recipe is for the original Tuxedo cocktail. Be aware that there are 4 others, according to Difford’s guides on the drink. Some lean towards dry gin, others incorporate sherry, and some favor one liqueur over the other. It’s one of my favorite gin drinks, so we’ll eventually get to them all. Just be aware that this O.G. spec is often not the one you’ll find when you ask Professor Google.

Like many Martini specs, this is a great cocktail to batch and freeze for evening cocktails on a moment’s notice. This is made possible by the lack of citrus and the need to emulsify the drink, and by the balance of spirit to flavor-enhancing components. Remember to include filtered water in your batch spec for the drink to imitate the dilution from stirring (which you won’t need to do with a batched cocktail). As I’ve said when discussing the 1906 Martini, you really don’t want a bunch of guests lying about your house in various stages of consciousness as a result of a batched up 7:1 bone-dry Martini. This is equal parts base and vermouth, making it ideal for a party or gathering. Still, too many, and you’ll need to lie down for a bit to restore yourself or regain consciousness. As always, drink responsibly.

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