Bénédictine Death Match

This month our alcohol was Bénédictine, a heady mix of different spices and herbs kept a trade secret by the maker.

We've each already created classic Bénédictine drinks, so now we're going out on a limb and trying our own.

Dave's concoction, reviewed by Joe

As above, so below

Holding this drink to my nose, I smell apple cider. That's totally insane, because, as far as I know, there isn't any apple cider in the apartment.

Taking a sip, I realize the smell of apple cider is actually the sugar around the rim that has been imbued with... what, I don't know? The sweat of Dave's efforts?

Here's also what I get when I taste it: tequila.

You know that scene in Pee Wee Herman's Big Adventure when he dances to "Tequila" on the bar? Of course you do. Well. That's kind of what I feel like doing right now. Putting on clogs and dancing. Not, mind you, because I like tequila, but because this is what I always want to do when I have tequila. It goes without saying that I am a mess when I drink tequila.

Which is why I don't drink tequila.

But anyway. This is pretty good. The Benedictine is a little lost in the mix, probably because my brain is too busy working its way through the tequila.

I give this a solid 3.5 stars. It's not bad. Really, Dave. It's not bad.


Joe's drink, reviewed by Dave.

Tufts did not endorse this photo

Joe's drink smells like orange juice. Good, fresh-squeezed orange juice. I'm not getting any alcohol, or any other smells - just a really strong orange scent, almost like those Clorox wipes that are orange-y.

It tastes like there is a lot of Bénédictine in here though. A lot of it - it really comes through. I actually don't really taste orange, except for a bit of bite up front, or a slight aftertaste. Since the Bénédictine is mixed with other things, it's not as viscous and heavy - the orange really lightens it up. But I'm not really getting any melding of the two flavors - there's Bénédictine and orange and Bénédictine and orange and ne'er the two shall meet.

However, it's not bad. I'd be interested - horror of horrors - to see what this tastes like with a hint of orange soda in it, or orange juice. Then it could be called the Sunkist Monk or something.

The hard thing, though, is I'm not sure when I'd want to drink this. The orange makes me feel like I should be wearing lots of flowy linen and swinging on a swing that's hanging from a tree next to the veranda. But the Bénédictine is still so dark and heavy, it makes me feel like there's a storm on its way, or all the leaves are about to turn on the tree that holds the swing and fall to the ground in one big, swift mess. And the linen is certainly not warm enough.

So I'll give this a solid 3, maybe 3.5, if that's how we're doing this. It's, well...

...interesting.

I love you still, even if we're not quite master mixologists - or even Fischer Price-level mixologists - yet.

The Big Reveal
Ingredients for each concoction, so you can try it at home - or, if you have any sense, avoid this combination of ingredients.

Joe's Drink: The Cara-Cara Boo-Boo 

You are an inspiration to us all, Alanna.

1.5 oz. vodka

1 oz. Bénédictine

juice from 1/4 Cara-Cara orange

two dashes Angostura Bitters

splash of créme de cassis

(As with all things créme de cassis, of course, you can't taste it)

Dave's Drink: Untitled, Op. 1, No. 1

1.5 oz. tequila

0.5 oz Bénédictine

One dash grapefruit bitters

Combine all ingredients and pour into a glass rimmed with cinnamon sugar. Garnish with a grapefruit segment, if you wish (mine fell into the drink just before I took the picture). 

El Diablo

1/7/16
9:24 PM

Dear Joe, 

I knew I wanted to make something that would be pretty and purple and something that was substantially different than your cocktail. I also wanted something unexpected. What was the most unlikely pairing with crème de cassis, a fancy-pants French liqueur that tastes like something your grandma would enjoy sipping while watching Murder She Wrote and petting her 27 cats? 

Tequila. 

The liquor that fairly screams Spring Breaaaaak! And "do you even lift bro?" And hangovers. And regret. 

Even as I typed the words "crème de cassis" and "tequila" into Google, I was terrified. They'll put anything on the Internet these days, and I presumed I was destined to end up with a cocktail where the ingredients mixed as well as...well, frat bros and your grandma's supper club (they eat at 5:30 at the K&W Cafeteria, thankyouverymuch). 

But thankfully variations on one recipe kept coming back over and over and over: El Diablo.

Since I'd read your post, dear, and saw the difficulties you'd had, I opted for a mixture that was heavy on the crème de cassis and light on the Everything Else. I ended up using roughly:

• 1 1/2 oz tequila
• 3/4 oz crème de cassis
• Juice of one lime wedge
• Ginger beer*

I combined the first three ingredients in my super-cute redneck cocktail shaker [I'm from the South - I can use those words] and shook.

Post-shaking

Then I poured it into a glass that I got for free from work - only the classiest for our blog, dear! - and topped it off with ginger beer and a lime wedge, which promptly fell off the side of the glass and straight into my drink. 

Diablo with artfully-placed spoon

Is it pretty? 
Sure. 

Can I taste the crème de cassis? 
Nope. 

But without the crème de cassis, all of these bright, forward flavors might trigger a flashback to the horrible times I had with tequila in college. The sweet, syrupy blackcurrant takes some of the bite-y edge off and makes it all feel a tee-tiny bit classier, like those people who could afford not to sleep 18 to a room and who could buy liquor that didn't taste like paint thinner when they went on Spring Break. I never did like them, but I did like this cocktail. It still tastes a bit too summery to be drinking while wearing a cardigan and staring at the still-yet-to-be-put-away Christmas tree. 

Apropos of nothing, do you have any decorations for a Valentine's Day tree? They might come in handy. 

Anyway, dear, perhaps I've found a tequila cocktail that you'll actually drink this summer. It's doubtful, but I'll live in hope. 

I can't wait to get together and see what else we can come up with - we could try something with a dark base spirit, or mayhaps we can make one of the classic crème de cassis drinks together. 

Whatever we make, though, I think one of us has to pretend like we're Ina Garten out for a jaunty afternoon drink in Paris. 

We'll draw straws. The loser can be Jeffrey. 


* I can't recommend Fever Tree ginger beer highly enough - it's undoubtedly the best I've ever had.