If you look at just about any cocktail recipe book from the latter half of the 20th century, you’ll see frequent references to an ingredient called, with little explanation, “bar sour.”
Also dubbed “sweet and sour mix” or just “sour mix,” it’s an essential component in an extended family of cocktails, from Margaritas to Whiskey Sours and just about any drink called a Collins or a Fizz. In its simplest form, it’s just lemon or lime juice or both, plus sugar and water; the more exotic versions include egg white (for its foaming qualities), other fruit juices (orange, grapefruit, and pineapple are among the most popular), and even tea. Mixed up by the quart before the start of service, sour mixes make a bartender’s life easier and get the cocktails to the customers more quickly.
The pairing of booze and citrus is a natural. Unfortunately, the convenience culture of the 1960s and 1970s prompted many bar owners to turn to commercially bottled sour mixes, syrups, and powdered concentrates. These super-sweet, fluorescent yellow-green concoctions (referenced disapprovingly in our previous discussion of the dignified Daiquiri) were typically loaded with corn syrup and artificial flavors. Even now, a popular brand of sweet and sour mix proudly declares its use of genuine cane sugar but also contains two kinds of preservatives, three different artificial colors, and an ischemia-inducing 70 milligrams of sodium per serving.
Today, competent cocktailians make their own bar sour. Jeffrey Morgenthaler, in his outstanding The Bar Book: Elements of Cocktail Technique, takes it a step further, suggesting that lemons and limes be squeezed on the spot for each cocktail or, at the very most, juiced en masse no more than 12 hours in advance and added to each drink separately. (He also tells a facepalm-inducing story about his first bar job and how his trainer assured him that “limes and lemons are actually the same thing; limes are just unripened lemons.”)
Unless I’m hosting a party, I never put the squeeze on until I’m ready to assemble a cocktail. That’s key to making this week’s Sunday Special: Spicy Ancho Lemonade.
I came across this recipe as I was searching for drinks that call for Ancho Reyes, a chile liqueur made in Mexico of sun-dried ancho peppers. I’m a hot sauce fiend, and Ancho has a smoky, slightly sweet spice that brings a touch of heat to the rum and fresh lemon juice. If you’d prefer even more fire, substitute Ancho Reyes Verde, made from fire-roasted poblanos.
On a hot day, the citrus will cool you down; on a cool night, the chiles will warm you up. Because it’s called lemonade, this recipe utilizes only ripe lemons, but feel free to squeeze in lime juice, too, if you like. After all, they’re the same thing.
UPDATE 5/6/2021: Ancho Reyes Verde just won the “Best Other Liqueurs” category in the 2021 San Francisco World Spirits Competition, the Oscars of the booze world.
Spicy Ancho Lemonade
Adapted from Food & Wine
1 1/2 ounces white rum (Don Q Cristal is our choice)
1/2 ounce Ancho Reyes liqueur
1 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 ounce simple syrup
2 ounces of club soda
Lemon for garnish
In a cocktail shaker with ice, combine rum, liqueur, lemon juice, and simple syrup. Shake and strain into a glass with ice. Top with club soda. Garnish with a lemon wheel.