Greenpoint is a neighborhood in Brooklyn. In 2006 Michael McIlroy created the Greenpoint, a variation on ... yeah you guessed it, the Brooklyn.  I wasn't in Greenpoint when I was introduced to its namesake cocktail. That happened in the Lower East Side in Manhattan, specifically at Attaboy, where McIlroy and Sam Ross (who created the Paper Plane and the Penicillin) operate.

2 ounces rye
.5 ounces yellow Chartreuse
.5 ounces sweet vermouth
1 dash Angostura bitters
1 dash orange bitters

Combine in a mixing glass with ice, stir with a bit of Brooklyn hustle, and strain into a chilled glass. Lemon peel garnish optional.

Spirits and bitters converge to make the Greenpoint a balanced and spirit forward cocktail. The rye stiffens the drink's spine. To me the Chartreuse is the key element separating the Greenpoint from other variations on the Manhattan or the Brooklyn. Joining rye and yellow Chartreuse works well here, just as it does in the Diamondback. If combining rye and green Chartreuse intrigues you (it should if you like strong drinks), try the Final Rye.

To paraphrase the Beastie Boys song, no sleep 'til Greenpoint!

Do you have a friend you've known for much of your life? Many people do. If you're one of them, it's unlikely your friend is as old as the Old Pal. Dating to the 1920s, the Old Pal is the brainchild of Harry McElhone, the proprietor of Harry's New York Bar in Paris. Reputedly he named it for William "Sparrow" Robinson, the New York Herald's sports editor in Paris.

1 ounce rye
1 ounce Campari
1 ounce dry vermouth

Combine in a mixing glass with ice, stir with the familiarity of an inside joke you share with a you know who, and strain into a chilled glass. Lemon peel garnish optional.

The Old Pal's three ingredient equal proportion formula is a bartender's dream. The same goes for other drinks such as the Bijou, the Luck of the Irish, Corpse Reviver #1, and of course, the Negroni. The Old Pal really is close cocktail kin of the Boulevardier, which McElhone made famous. It simply swaps in rye for bourbon, and dry vermouth for sweet vermouth. No surprise the Old Pal has a spicier, drier taste than its cousin. Depending on the preferences of you or your guest, you can tweak the traditional 1:1:1 ratio of the ingredients.

Old can be great. It's true with an Old Fashioned. It's true with Old Tom style gin. So say hello to your new cocktail companion, the Old Pal.

When I use the word "loaded" here it's a non-sexual double entendre. Monte Carlo, part of the city-state of Monaco, is loaded in that it has a ridiculous amount of money. The Monte Carlo cocktail is loaded in that it can make you very drunk if you're not careful. Making its grand entrance in 1948 in David Embury's book The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks, the Monte Carlo is simple and sophisticated.

2 ounces rye
.5 ounces Benedictine DOM
1-2 dashes aromatic bitters

Combine in a mixing glass with ice, stir as if you're suave and rich enough to gamble in Monte Carlo's legendary casino (think James Bond in Goldeneye), and strain into a chilled glass, preferably over a large ice cube.

The Benedictine DOM, a rich French herbal liqueur used in drinks such as my Whiskey Queen, is the key ingredient in the Monte Carlo or its variations. Depending on your perspective, the Benedictine substitutes in for the super simple syrup in an Old Fashioned, or the sweet vermouth in a Manhattan. How dry or sweet you prefer the Monte Carlo depends on the ratio between the rye and the Benedictine. Not into rye? Use bourbon (a Kentucky Colonel), reposado or anejo tequila (a Monte Carlos), or some other aged spirit.

Want to gamble like a Millionaire? A Monte Carlo will make you feel loaded.

In some theologies, purgatory is the state after death before some souls ascend to Heaven. It's also the title of the second book in Dante's Divine Comedy (one of my favorite college classes was about The Inferno). Dante Aligheri in Florence created one of the most famous pieces of Western literature, and Ted Kilgore in Missouri who created the Purgatory cocktail in the mid-2000s.

2.5 ounces rye
.75 ounces Benedictine DOM
.75 ounces green Chartreuse

Combine in a mixing glass with ice, stir while contemplating where your soul might go (mine will travel in the bar car), and strain into a chilled glass. Lemon peel or wedge garnish optional.

Make no mistake, the Purgatory is a powerful drink. Those who are new to cocktails might have one and think they have descended into one of Dante's circles of Hell. The spice in the rye may make you think of Hell, and the silky sweetness of the Benedictine DOM may make you think of Heaven. The rye stands up to the Benedictine DOM, used in drinks such as the Honeymoon or my Whiskey Queen, and the 110 proof green Chartreuse, used in drinks such as the Bijou and the Last Word. Combining two herbal liqueurs from French monastic orders looks strange, at least it did to me. Have some cocktailian faith. You'll find they work well together in the Purgatory.

Regardless of whether you're religious, agnostic, or atheist, warm your soul with a Purgatory.

Everyone has a soul. Some of us have rhythm, some don't (if you've ever seen me dance, you know I'm in the latter category). Describing it as the love child of a Manhattan and a Sazerac, Greg Best in Atlanta created the Rhythm and Soul approximately 10 years ago. My fellow cocktailian Michael Bounds, who created the Ides of March, introduced me to the Rhythm and Soul.

2 ounces bourbon or rye
.5 ounces sweet vermouth
.5 ounces Averna
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Teaspoon of absinthe

Coat the inside of a chilled glass with absinthe, combine the other ingredients in a mixing glass with ice, stir with soulful rhythm, and strain into the chilled glass. Lemon peel garnish optional.

Best uses bourbon as the base spirit, but Bounds and I agree that to have the true soul of a Sazerac, rye should be the base of a Rhythm and Soul. Use the whiskey you prefer. Best calls for Carpano Antica as the sweet vermouth, and I wholeheartedly agree. It is pricey, but it is worth every penny. Averna, the Sicilian amaro used in the A Thief In The Night, works really well here. If you even remotely like either the Manhattan or Sazerac, you'll definitely like the Rhythm and Soul.

Move to your own beat, and get yourself some more Rhythm and Soul.

For such a consistently popular cocktail, the Manhattan doesn’t have a consistent origin story.  The only consensus is that it originated in New York City’s most famous borough no later than 1882. While the Manhattan Club may have created the cocktail (or at least took credit for it), some sources identify an unknown bartender at the Hoffman House bar as the creator. Surviving Prohibition and the changing tastes of the drinking public, the Manhattan deserves its reputation as a classic cocktail.

2 ounces bourbon or rye
1 ounce sweet vermouth
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Combine in a mixing glass with ice, stir with energy and style worthy of New York City, and strain into a chilled glass, preferably martini or coupe. Orange peel and/or Luxardo cherry garnish optional.

The Manhattan is a remarkably flexible cocktail. The 2:1 ratio between the bourbon or rye and sweet vermouth isn't set in stone. Depending on the whiskey's strength and the drinker's preferences, you may want to adjust the ratio. As with other drinks cocktails calling for vermouth, e.g. the Martini, make sure your vermouth is fresh. With the proliferation of bitters on the market, you can use different bitters and have equally spectacular results.

Can you have a lot of fun experimenting with the Manhattan? There's one way to find out.

Real New Orleans drinkers love a Sazerac, the city's official cocktail and Ms. Cocktail Den's favorite drink. Although the Sazerac's exact birth year is a bit hazy (as are many things if one properly experiences the city), Billy Wilkinson and Vincent Miret created it in the late 1890s at the Sazerac House. Its popularity endures and expands over time.

2 ounces rye
.25 ounces super simple syrup
2 dashes Peychaud's bitters
Teaspoon of absinthe

Coat the inside of a chilled glass with absinthe, discard the remainder, add the other ingredients, and stir with some New Orleans style. Lemon twist garnish optional.

The Sazerac is many things. Weak is not one of them. Some early versions used cognac as the base, but most modern versions use rye. Think of the Sazerac as an absinthe enhanced twist on an Old Fashioned with special bitters. Both the Peychaud's bitters (another New Orleans creation) and absinthe, used in my When Ernest Met Mary, are indispensable parts of the cocktail. You can serve the Sazerac at room temperature. It's also quite good if you stir it with a couple of ice cubes and then remove the cubes before serving (this is how I do it). If you're still in a New Orleans cocktail mood, try my Len Bon Temps Roulé.

Want something assertive, alcohol forward, and utterly magnificent? Then make yourself a Sazerac.

Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR) was a rock band with a unique sound that still resonates. John Fogerty was the lead singer of CCR during its brief history and prolific output (try to find a movie or TV show set during the Vietnam war era where "Fortunate Son" isn't played).  In 2010, 40 years after CCR's heyday, Ryan Fitzgerald in San Francisco created the Fogerty, and I discovered this adapted recipe in Difford's Guide.

2 ounces rye
.5 ounces Campari
.25 ounces crème de cassis
2 dashes orange bitters

Combine in a mixing glass with ice, stir with forceful rhythm, and strain into a chilled glass. Orange twist garnish optional.

The Fogerty is a remarkably well balanced drink despite its unusual combination of ingredients. There's no doubt rye, a part of other American themed drinks such as the Roosevelt, and Campari, a part of drinks such as my Scandinavian Suntan,  are strong tasting spirits with a lasting impact (much like CCR's music), and they temper the rich and sweet crème de cassis, which you use in the classic Kir or my original Bourbon Renaissance. Fitzgerald's original used crème de cacao instead of crème de cassis. If you or your guest prefers a slightly sweeter Fogerty, use bourbon as the base instead of rye.

It doesn't matter if you're down on the corner waiting for Susie Q, or if you're looking at a green river with a bad moon rising, the Fogerty is a cocktail that will resonate.

The people of New Orleans are known for their joyous, free spirited lifestyle. Monks are not. That includes the monks of the small Carthusian Order. The Carthusians are known for their Chartreuse liqueur. Combine it with the Sazerac, the official cocktail of New Orleans, and you get a Carthusian Sazerac. Spice Kitchen & Bar in Cleveland created this drink, and my fellow cocktailian Michael Bounds, creator of the Ides Of March and the Another Green World, introduced me to it.

2.5 ounces rye
.75 ounces super simple syrup
.25 ounces green Chartreuse
2 dashes lemon bitters
Teaspoon of absinthe

Swirl the absinthe so you coat the inside of a chilled glass, then discard the remainder. Combine the other ingredients in a glass and stir with the rhythmic solemnity of a mass or a slow jazz piece. Lemon twist garnish optional.

If you like "spirit forward" (I love this euphemism) cocktails, the Carthusian Sazerac is for you. Rye is a powerful base of any Sazerac or spinoffs such as the Orange Satchmo. Green Chartreuse, a key component of the Bijou and the Last Word, has more alcohol by volume than most whiskies and its yellow counterpart, which you use in drinks such as the Diamondback and the Renegade. Lemon bitters, which are fairly easy to acquire, substitute for the Peychaud's bitters that are an indispensable part of the iconic Sazerac.

Whether you're introverted like a stereotypical monk, extroverted like a stereotypical New Orleanian, or both, the Carthusian Sazerac might be for you.

It could be a meeting. A movie. A date. A year (I'm looking at you, 2020). After it's over you're just stunned, annoyed, or something else. The Time I'll Never Get Back is the antidote to that feeling. The Wulf Cocktail Den has a tradition of unveiling a new drink in the new year. Considering the general catastrophe that was 2020, at the dawn of 2021 the Time I'll Never Get Back continues this tradition.

2 ounces bourbon or rye
.5 ounces sweet vermouth
.5 ounces triple sec
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Combine in a mixing glass with ice, stir with a sigh of relief, and strain into a chilled glass.

Veteran cocktail enthusiasts, and most novice ones, immediately will see the Time I'll Never Get Back is a simple variation on a Manhattan. Using Old Tom gin instead of bourbon or rye makes the drink a riff off a Martinez. To use one of my favorite drink euphemisms, the Time I'll Never Get Back is "alcohol forward." That's deliberate. If you want to try to erase or suppress the memory of wasted time, why waste your time on a watered down drink?

The Time I'll Never Get Back lends itself to experimentation. The type of whiskey will use will make a difference. So will the triple sec, a term that generally refers to orange liqueurs. For example, I'm a big fan of Cointreau, which I use in the 24601, but I figure Grand Marnier, an indispensable part of the Burnt Fuselage, also works quite well.

Spend some time with a Time I'll Never Get Back, and you won't want the experience to end.