Recipe

• 3 parts hazelnut liqueur (like Frangelico)

• 3 parts golden rum

• 1 part coffee liqueur (like Kahlúa)

Shake with ice and strain into a small wine glass. Put a slice of banana on the glass.

I made this up to honour my mum visiting for a few days. She loves hazelnuts, so I thought it'd be a good chance to make something of the Frangelico I never think of uses for.

I thought I'd base this on a Godfather or Rusty Nail – half spirit, half liqueur. But I thought it could do with something a bit interesting in the background, like a chocolate flavour, and I remembered how well Kahlúa worked in a Jaffa Cake. So that gave us the recipe.

It wasn't exactly bad, but too sweet and not enough depth of flavour! Something like cocoa bitters, dark rum or citrus juice or zest might make it more interesting. I think I'll try again soon.

Recipe

• 1 part Campari

• 3 parts pale cream sherry

• 6 parts tonic water

Mix together in a large wine glass with ice and a thin slice of lemon. Alternatively, mix a batch in a jug with plenty of ice and lemon, and serve in small glasses (175ml:500ml:1L worked for us).

Yesterday was my sister's 50th birthday, and we celebrated with a family get-together, a trip to the pub, fun and games, and a curry in the evening. Of course, we had to invent a cocktail for the occasion.

Snodi loves cream sherry, and since I've tried vermouth-and-tonic in the past I thought tonic would make a good mixer. All it needed then was a bit of depth, and the crisp bitterness of Campari did this nicely – this small dash of it stops it getting overpowering, and makes for a nice colour.

It went down very nicely when we were home in the evening. And at about 8% ABV, it was easy going (just like the birthday girl herself).

Recipe

• 15 parts brandy

• 1 part mint liqueur

Mix together in a rocks glass with ice.

I've made a stinger before several times (1 2 3) and it's turned into a regular drink for me. It's quite easy to make – just two ingredients – and I've found myself tweaking the ingredients over time.

Firstly, I've found myself serving it on the rocks instead of "up" in a cocktail glass. This is easier to make, and also a more relaxed drink: it allows for sipping the drink over a longer period, savouring it a little more and not worrying too much about a little meltwater.

Secondly, I've found myself adding less and less mint liqueur. I happened to get a bottle of green crème de menthe, where the colour really shows up, and I realised the mint flavour is quite overpowering. I've ended up using the mint as a sort of trace ingredient, like the absinthe or bitters in a tuxedo.

That's led me to the absurd 15:1 ratio here: just under a teaspoon of crème de menthe mixed into a generous double brandy. The flavour really comes through and adds a delightful lift to the brandy, exactly what an aromatic ingredient should do to a cocktail.

As I've mentioned before in a previous post, there's an unbearable snobbery around how little vermouth people want in their martini ("Oh, extremely dry please", "Add a drop of vermouth from your finger", "Stir it carefully while looking at an unopened bottle of vermouth", and so on). Ernest Hemingway apparently used to demand his martini at a 15:1 ratio, which he named "Montgomery" after Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery who in the Second World War was said never to launch an attack without outnumbering his enemy by that ratio. In his memory, and in memory of cocktail snobs everywhere, I decided to give the same name to this stinger.

Dead easy, and highly recommended!

Recipe

• 1 part orange liqueur (Cointreau)

• 1 part coffee liqueur (Kahlúa)

• 1 part orange juice

• ¼ part lime juice

• Grated dark chocolate or cocoa bitters (optional)

Mix together in a wine glass with ice.

I don't know how it works, but this really tastes like a jaffa cake. I think a wedge of orange might improve the appearance, but as far as taste goes, it's syrupy perfection.

My brother found this on the menu in a pub and recommended it. I'd have it again!

Thanks to Lydia for providing cocoa bitters several years ago. I was glad to finally have a use for it.

Recipe

• 15ml blue Curaçao

• 30ml rye whiskey

• 10ml lemon juice

• 10ml sugar syrup

• 30ml red wine

Pour the Curaçao into a rocks glass, then fill up the glass with ice. Shake the whiskey, lemon juice and sugar syrup together with ice and strain gently into the glass, disturbing the Curaçao as little as possible. Pour the wine on top, again trying not to disturb the drink, perhaps by pouring over a teaspoon.

My triple sour was a major breakthrough that I was immensely proud of, and my journey into layered drinks continues here. After a red-yellow-red drink, I thought three distinct primary colours would be a fun thing to try, and the only blue thing I had was Curaçao, a sweet orange-flavoured liqueur from the Dutch Caribbean.

I was concerned that liqueur wouldn't stay at the bottom. As I mentioned in my triple sour post, layered drinks are all about density, and while it was easy to keep syrup at the bottom I didn't know whether Curaçao would be sugary enough to manage it. But I was delighted to find that it stayed in place very nicely.

I enjoyed the drink! The sweetening progression from wine to cocktail to liqueur works well, and orange after lemon is certainly pleasing. Besides this, the colours are perfect.

Stay tuned for my upcoming attempt at a traffic light sour.

Recipe

• 3 parts chilli liqueur (I used Ancho Reyes)

• 1–1½ parts lime juice

• 1 part water

Shake the ingredients with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Add a small pinch of dried chilli flakes.

Excellent!

I've tried this a couple of times, with mixed success. The liqueur is fiery and quite harsh, and adding sugar syrup seems to make it sickly without taking the edge off. In fact the liqueur has enough sweetness already, and the way to take the edge off is to be more generous with the lime juice than my usual sour recipe (3:1:1) and to add a little water instead of syrup.

The result is still fiery, but drinkable, refreshing, and attractive to look at. It was superb as an appetiser before the spicy chickpea tacos that are becoming one of our weekly meals.

Thanks to Parker and Liz, our good friends who got us this liqueur a few years ago. I've got a lot out of it, and I'd never have bought it for myself.

Recipe

• 3 parts golden rum

• 1 part lime juice

• 1 part red wine

• 1 part sugar syrup

Shake the rum, lime juice and syrup together with ice and strain into a rocks glass filled with fresh ice. Pour the wine over a teaspoon on the top of the drink so that it floats on top. Add a piece of stem ginger on the rim of the glass.

This is my variation on the classic New York Sour, with a Caribbean twist: rum instead of whiskey, lime instead of lemon, and a spicy piece of ginger for aroma and decoration.

Like the New York Sour, this drink starts with a beautifully smooth chilled red wine, which blends gradually into the rest of the cocktail as you drink it. This keeps it interesting and varied, and the flavours work surprisingly well together.

The change to rum and lime is a welcome variation, somehow a bit smoother and easier to drink than the whiskey and lemon. Ginger also seemed like the appropriate Caribbean garnish, but a cherry or something else would have been just as good.

Recommended!

Recipe

• 1 part dark rum

• 2 parts no added sugar pineapple cubes flavour sparkling drink

• a dash of Angostura bitters

Pour the rum and no added sugar pineapple cubes flavour sparkling drink into a wine glass with lots of ice, then add the bitters, a cherry and a cocktail umbrella.

I invented this cocktail suddenly, with very little planning, and with poor results.

The dark rum is a strong flavour, which dominates the rather sickly and weak no added sugar pineapple cubes flavour sparkling drink, itself a disappointing purchase from the local Aldi. The bitters intensified the harsh alcoholic burn, and the cherry and umbrella did little to improve things, although they give it a reasonably pleasing look.

Do not attempt.

Recipe

• 1 part gin

• 1 part elderflower cordial

• 3 parts boiling water

Pour the gin and cordial into a mug. Add the hot water straight from the kettle.

Claire invented this at least 10 years ago, and we've been having it occasionally ever since. We're just getting over Covid, and after our first day out of the house in well over a week, this was just what we needed tonight.

Altogether it's what you'd expect: warming, sweet, and with a satisfying gentle burn as it goes down. Simple but glorious.

With summer ending, the nights drawing in and the weather turning colder, we'll be having more of these.