As a relative newbie in the world of cocktails, I find them totally mysterious. How is it that pouring apparently random amounts of ingredients that are often quite challenging to drink on their own transform in the shaker into a magical elixir? When I am cooking, at least, I have some confidence in my ability to play with ratios and substitute ingredients to manipulate flavor; mixing a cocktail, on the other hand, is an exercise in total blind recipe faith for me. Measure, mix, pour, pray. Unhappy with my cocktail impotence, I added “understanding cocktail anatomy” to my long-term life and blog to-do list.

As it turns out Esquire magazine has beaten me to the punch. Their reductionist cocktail recipe allows anyone to mix up a reliably drinkable invention using a simple ratio: 3 parts liquor, 1 part liqueur, 1 part Aperol and 1 part citrus juice.

Any time someone claims to have discovered a foolproof recipe, it is my duty to attempt to break it, so for my first Esquire cocktail I broke out the most shameful contents of our liquor cabinet: 1½ oz Sauza Gold tequila, ½ oz Southern Comfort, ½ oz Aperol and ½ oz lime juice. Between the SoCo and the tequila, I wasn’t expecting much from this. But I was pleasantly surprised. While the cheap tequila’s familiar sting was present, it only lingered ethereally over the cocktail, rather than entirely defining it like the cheap tequila cocktails I invented in college. The drink was more or less as promised: smooth and not too sweet. Kind of boring, but not offensive.

Another iteration using 100 Proof Wild Turkey, Benedictine and lemon juice mixed with Aperol turned out the same way: not terribly interesting, but pretty good. Definitely drinkable.

This is not my favorite cocktail recipe. I’ve had way more fun and discovered far more interesting flavors and drinks in Ted Haigh’s Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, which I’ve only scratched the surface of. But when it’s just too much to run out for that obscure new ingredient — or if it’s Sunday in this backwards state — it’s nice to know there’s a cocktail I can mix up with what I’ve got on hand, even if it’s SoCo.

Maybe the economy has you down, the political climate depresses you, or you’re just sad because it’s Monday, there’s ample reason to feel a little blue these days. Now I would never prescribe liquor as a treatment for passing sadness (go do something fun instead!), a couple of drinks Martha and I have enjoyed lately seem like the perfect thing for the blues. Because they’re blue. Yeah.

Both drinks come from the invaluable Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails: From the Alamagoozlum Cocktail to the Zombie by Ted Haigh, a.k.a. Dr. Cocktail.

Leatherneck Cocktail

• 2 oz blended whiskey (Crown Royal, for example)
• ¾ oz blue curaçao
• ½ oz fresh lime juice

Shake over ice; strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lime wheel.

I have a confession to make: I do not own blended whiskey. So what did I do to make this drink? Well I was making two, so I “blended” the dregs of a bottle of 100 proof Wild Turkey (3 oz) with a last bit of Bulleit Bourbon (1 oz). I know that’s not blended whiskey — and probably a sign that I have a problem — but it made an okay version of the Leatherneck. Such is my shame.

This drink is the color of radioactive blue only achievable with blue curaçao.

Blue Moon

• 2 oz gin
• ½ oz Crème Yvette or crème de violette
• ½ oz fresh lemon juice

Shake over ice; strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

While the Leatherneck Cocktail’s garish acid blue gave off an exuberant vibe with a strong hint of desperation — a drink for a Friday night, perhaps — the Blue Moon is all refinement and class right down to its subdued blue color, a distillation of the intense purple of crème de violette.  You can almost hear the strains of the eponymous song wafting across the room as soon as you open the shaker.

Instead of trick-or-treating, Martha and I are celebrating this devilish night with a taste of Satan’s Whiskers.

Satan’s Whiskers
(From: Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails by Ted Haigh a.k.a. Dr. Cocktail)

• ½ oz gin
• ½ oz dry vermouth
• ½ oz sweet vermouth
• ½ oz orange juice
• 2 tsp orange curaçao
• 1 tsp orange bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange twist. (Or a lemon twist, if you don’t have any oranges!)

If you haven’t seen it already, read the New York Times “Refreshing by Definition” on the essentials of summer cocktails. Lots of our favorites are there: mint, basil, lemons and limes, cola (specifically Coca-Cola, of course), and a muddler (thanks Mari) for all that mint and basil. Just as we’ll be using summer’s fruits in sorbet throughout the next few months, the “essentials” also offers up melons, peaches, and others for use in cocktails.

To their essentials, I would add varied bar/glassware for serving. What’s a liquid without a container, anyway? A puddle. That’s what. Below is a quick roundup of easily accessible glassware for summer entertaining. Whether you shop online, downtown, or at the mall there should be one that works for you. Of course, sticking with what you have is also a great option. Our handblown blue glass tumblers from Cuenca, Spain are a favorite of mine.

Short or tall, there are a lot of good choices out there. If you like blue glass, Crate&Barrel can satisfy for only $1.95 per with their Cobalt Glass family. Also on sale is Pottery Barn’s Rustica Barware, which comes in sets of six in a choice of colors (including blue). For those who like to buy handmade, check out Vital Home on Etsy for some fun screenprinted bicycles on the side of your cocktail, also available in tumbler size. Getting a little fancier and a little more Scandinavian, try these delicate iittala Aino Aalto tumblers (available online and at Finnstyle in downtown Minneapolis) which come in a number of great muted colors. Finally, they may be clear, but West Elm’s recycled glass drinkware has that greenish, coke-bottle coloring inherent in thick, recycled glass and perfect for serving any mojito or margarita.