This gin cocktail is bright and tart, with delicate herbal and berry flavors and a pale pink color.
'grenadine' on Serious Eats
There are a few cocktails that go by this name, but my favorite is this version with rye (or bourbon), grenadine, pastis, curaçao or Grand Marnier, and an egg white. It's rich and mildly creamy, with mellow whiskey flavors rounded out by sweet fruitiness and just a hint of anise.
Grenadine is a pomegranate syrup—or that's what it's supposed to be. If you've ever seen a pomegranate, you know that it's not an easy fruit to juice. So somewhere along the way, grenadine makers strayed away from using real pomegranate juice and instead used corn syrup and red dye #40. That's why a lot of us think of grenadine as "that sweet stuff that turns drinks red" and avoid it like the technicolor plague.
DIY grenadine is as quick to make as simple syrup, and you are in control of how sweet it is. Pomegranate molasses and rosewater add a bit of complexity to the flavor of the final product.
In this clever variation on the classic liquor-based sour, bartender Thad Vogler substitutes the assertive flavor of black tea for alcohol. The tannic qualities of the tea provide many of the same qualities as booze and give the drink a delicious backbone which stands up against tart lemon and sweet grenadine.
Jackson Cannon of Eastern Standard and Island Creek Oyster Bar in Boston describes the Jack Rose as "a lost classic." Constructed with house-made grenadine, Laird's Applejack, a bit of lemon, and a dash of Peychaud's bitters, it's spirit forward with a refreshing fruity undercurrent.
[Photograph: Jim Kearns] At 17th Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues, you'll find one of the greatest cocktail concentrations in the city. This one small block is now home to two mixology powerhouses: Raines Law Room, and the recently opened...
By incorporating fresh OJ and a little grenadine into the venerable sour, the Ward Eight rises above the ordinary.
Originally named for a Philadelphia social club with roots tracing back to the 1880s, the Clover Club was, for decades, one of the marks of the sophisticated boozer, a manly drink (despite its pink hue) shaken by the bucketload in the wood-paneled lounges of the early 20th century.
When the weather (or your palate) is being indecisive, it's best for your cocktails to play along. That's where the El Presidente comes in: made with light rum, it has a bright, summery appeal; but with the gravitas brought to the drink by dry vermouth and orange curacao, the flavor is ready to pull on a sweater against the evening's chill.
This is a drink where spending the time and money to get your hands on the right ingredients makes all the difference. Fresh-squeezed orange juice is essential, and a quality grenadine—Stirrings makes a decent one, though it's quite simple to make your own—and an authentic absinthe really make the cocktail come together (though a substitute such as Herbsaint, Pernod or Ricard will also suffice).