The capsule cocktail cabinet

Having recently moved house, with all the packing and unpacking which that involves, I had to find a new home for the spirits and mixers. It also provided an opportunity to finish and throw out the last inch of some of the more outré contents. (The Lithuanian mead is hanging on, but it won’t last long.) An additional benefit was diminished guilt when restocking with some of life’s essentials. However, the process started me thinking: what is a capsule drinks cabinet for the cocktail lover?

Of course, much must depend on taste. Anyone who has cocktails with anything like regularity will have bottles to which they return again and again, and some which gather dust. But guests must be catered for too – up to a point – and there is certainly a distinction between those drinks which one could reasonably be expected to rustle up, and those which one couldn’t. What follows, then, will reflect personal preference, but will also make at least a nod towards the rules of hospitality.

First, for me, must be gin. Greatest of all, this allows you to make a martini, the king of cocktails, and not just because of James Bond (Ian Fleming’s views on martinis, while no doubt well researched, are for another day’s discussion). But it will also provide the base of a gin and tonic, a gimlet, a white lady, a pink gin and a negroni.

Bourbon may well be next. The kind I will (for now) leave to you – it is a bitter and internecine business picking the best. This will be the base of a Manhattan, an old-fashioned, a whiskey sour, a mint julep and (if you must)  a bourbon and Coke. (I would prefer not to include this here, but if I give an honourable mention to the gin and tonic, then I don’t see how I can omit it.)

Vodka may be jostling towards the front now. I find it a spirit which divides opinion. Some will drink almost nothing else, and cannot bear gin. Vodka is a must for bloody Marys, cosmopolitans and white Russians, and some prefer a vodka martini or a vesper to the classic recipe. Very well. For me, though, and this is purely a personal whim, I find it bland and lacking in complexity: a shot of alcohol with nothing of the fun or frolics of gin.

Then there is brandy. The brandy Alexander, the horse’s neck, the sidecar, let alone a simple brandy and soda. It is a vital ingredient in some of the best and most classic cocktails, though perhaps is of the second rank now compared to other spirits. But it is the heart of a classic champagne cocktail, and that is no small thing.

Rum is something of which I know very little. It has handled me roughly in the past, and the only way in which I can bear it now is as a constituent part of a mojito. But others will rightly enjoy a Cuba libre, a piña colada, a daiquiri or a sundowner. If you have a half-dozen bottles of spirits, as this article seems to be leaning towards, a decent rum must surely be among them. And I suspect it falls into the same category as cooking only with wine you would drink – don’t make cocktails with rum you wouldn’t drink on its own.

Finally, tequila. I confess at this point that I cannot get on with the stuff at all, and have had enough bad experiences with it to convince me that we will never be reconciled. But any self-respecting cocktail lover ought to be able to summon up a margarita or a Long Island iced tea for a guest who yearns to go down Mexico way.

There are other bottles which can be added according to the leanings of the toper. Cointreau and triple sec give a citrus punch; coffee-based liqueurs like Tia Maria and Kahlúa will offer a sweetness unmatched by anything else (and are a sine qua non for devotees of The Big Lebowski); sake provides an Oriental twist to some cocktail standards, though I have never been able to acquire the taste for it myself; absinthe adds a dash of Parisian joie de vivre, quite apart from being enjoyed on its own; and cherry brandy, crème de menthe and blue curaçao have their place.

Mixers fall into two categories, the alcoholic and the suitable-for-children. In the first category there must be, at least, a dry and a sweet vermouth and some bitters. In the second are tonic water, soda water, cola and perhaps ginger ale. Don’t even think of using diet versions, unless you’d stir Canderel into your drink. Some lime cordial and the wherewithal to conjure up sugar syrup would also be helpful.

That has all ended up being longer (and potentially more expensive) than I had anticipated. Oh well. If a thing is worth doing… I have not dwelt on brands of the various spirits, yet, but that is for another time. As I say, the list reflects personal taste, but one could do worse than collaring the six spirits above and their impedimenta. It will not leave you shame-faced if a guest asks for a something mainstream. If you are unable to oblige, you will certainly be able to offer a classic alternative. More than that, though, you will be able to pander to every mood, whim, joy and sulk that you yourself may have. And that, surely, is the point.