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Savor: Muddled

Writer's picture: boxton9boxton9

Updated: May 26, 2023

James Bumbery and his Muddler


Westchester Home, Summer 2013


By Julia Sexton


For several years, I wrote Savor, a column that I conceived for Westchester Home, a quarterly. In it, I asked chefs to name their favorite kitchen tool and show how best to use it in recipes. I loved this column because the chefs (and, in this case, a barman) chose tools that really showcased their particular style of work.


In the way that the letters BC and AD distinguish historical eras, so should BMM (Before Mad Men) and AMM (After Mad Men) denote eras of cocktails. For American drinkers, the AMC show was a landmark that reignited our latent love for sweet, bitters-haunted whiskey drinks like Manhattans. At Pour, Mount Kisco’s moody wine and cocktail bar, James Bumbery’s drinks fall securely in the After Mad Men epoch: They’re as masculine, cool, and elegant as Don Draper’s impeccable suit.


But the elegance of these drinks doesn’t mean that there isn’t heavy lifting involved in their creation. Often, you’ll see Bumbery behind Pour’s candle-lit bar, literally bashing the flavor out of his ingredients with a muddler. This tool—essentially, a miniature bat—is used to extract juices and flavorful oils from fruits and herbs. It also blends, aerates liquids and pulverizes sugar.


One could spend lots of money on titanium, graphite, or stainless-steel muddlers, but Bumbery claims to be “tool neutral.” He makes do with a basic wooden muddler that sells for less than $10 at restaurant supply or kitchenware stores. Barring a special trip to purchase a muddler, Bumbery recommends that home bartenders get inventive. “Look, if you were stranded on a desert island, you’d make your drink with the cleanest-looking stick you could find. At Pour, I used to use a spoon. I’m not super-picky about tools.”


Sazerac

(Makes one cocktail)

Rittenhouse Rye is the baseline Pour whiskey, even though Pour’s owner, Anthony Colasacco, is a compulsive collector of aged, boutique, and rare whiskeys. Says Bumbery, “The Rittenhouse is just chuggable. When we have restaurant people in Pour, we just put the bottle on the bar. I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by all these amazing ryes. We’ve tried 21-year-old rye in this drink, which is unheard of, but we keep coming back to the Rittenhouse.” The good news for home drinkers is that Rittenhouse retails for only about $20 per bottle.

  • 3 cubes sugar

  • 3 dashes Peychaud’s Bitters

  • 3 oz Rittenhouse Rye

  • 2 dashes Pernod Absinthe

  • 1 lemon twist

In a pint glass, muddle sugar cubes and bitters. Add ice and rye, and stir until the ingredients are well chilled. Meanwhile, pour the absinthe into a rocks glass and rotate the glass until its entire inside surface is coated with absinthe. Discard the absinthe and then strain the rye mixture into the absinthe-coated glass. Twist the lemon over the glass. Discard the lemon and serve neat.


Old Fashioned

(Makes one cocktail)

While Bumbery usually lets his customers choose whether rye or bourbon goes into their drinks, in the Old Fashioneds that he makes for himself, Bumbery prefers locally made Berskhire Bourbon from Berkshire Mountain Distillery. “We watched that distillery from the beginning: We’ve been with them the whole way. It feels good when people come into Pour and request Berkshire Bourbon. Chris [Weld, the Westchester-raised founder, owner, and distiller of Berkshire Mountain Distillers] is awesome.” To complete the drink, Bumbery serves it with a single large ice cube. Other bartenders have noted that a large cube results in less dilution, but Bumbery is less scientific, saying, “Bottom line: The big cube just looks cool.”

  • 2 orange wedges

  • 2 Luxardo cherries (plus one for garnish)

  • 2 cubes sugar

  • 2 dashes Angostura or Whiskey Barrel-Aged Bitters

  • 2 ½ ounces Berkshire Bourbon.

  • 1 2” ice cube (These can be made at home using Tavolo King Cube Ice Trays, available at Amazon for about $8.)

  • Cherry juice to garnish

In the glass part of a Boston shaker, muddle orange, cherries, and sugar until pulpy. Add ice, bitters, and bourbon and shake until the metal part of the shaker is frosty. Strain into a rocks glass that holds one large ice cube. Garnish with one Luxardo cherry and lace the drink with a few drops of Luxardo cherry juice.


Plum Collins Cocktail

(Makes one cocktail)

Bumbery has long been an advocate of Brooklyn-distilled Greenhook Ginsmiths Beach Plum Gin Liqueur, which is made with the fragrant Yankee fruit that one usually finds on seaside vacations, boiled into preserves. “It’s just tasty. Sometimes I offer the plum gin in shots. Even people who aren’t gin drinkers love this gin.”

  • 3 lime wedges

  • 3 lemon wedges

  • 2 cubes sugar

  • 2 ½ ounces Greenhook Ginsmiths Beach Plum Gin Liqueur

  • club soda (to fill glass)

  • 1 orange slice

In the glass part of a Boston shaker, muddle limes, lemons, and sugar until pulpy. Add liqueur and ice, then cover with the metal part of the shaker. Shake the ingredients until the outside of the shaker’s metal cup is frosty. Strain the ingredients into an ice-filled highball glass and top with club soda to fill the glass. Stir, garnish with an orange slice, and serve.



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About Me

I Was Supposed to Go to Grad School

Growing up in a large, loud family of 7, they use to call me “Pass Me The, Pass Me The” for the way that I’d try to doctor my dinner with whatever condiments were on hand. At about 8 or 9, I gave up on condiments and took control of dinner entirely, cooking out of a beat-up copy of The New York Times Cookbook that I still own, my little penciled-in annotations intact. I cooked for 7 people nightly, all throughout high school. By the time I was winding up college, I’d become a damn fine cook.

 

My father was a professor of American History. I figured I’d follow in those footsteps, teaching Dickens to 18-year-olds who were not at all interested. I gathered applications to doctorate programs, meanwhile, I took a job as a waiter in a busy catering company. The kitchen where I worked was perpetually understaffed—my cooking skills were quickly identified and I was press-ganged onto their crew. I LOVED it—the excitement, the creativity, the freedom, the trench humor, learning professional cooking techniques. There I stayed for several years while my graduate school applications gathered dust.

 

Cue me, later, a refugee from a crash-and-burn restaurant opening where I was not only the sous-chef, but also the loan application writer and babysitter for a chef/owner who had gone spectacularly off the rails. By then, I had a couple of herniated discs and no desire to stay in restaurants. I moved back to the world of words, and I’ve never looked back. 

 

Since then, I’ve been a restaurant critic, a national award-winning blogger, a food journalist, a travel writer, a columnist, a cookbook author, and the editor-in-chief of four Edible titles. I can’t wait to see what's next.

 

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