Amer Picon Taste Test

OK, so more on my homemade Amer Picon.

Being reasonably satisfied with the homemade brew I made based on Jamie Boudreau's recipe for the hard-to-get digestive, I took my clear, unmarked bottle to Jake Walk, a local cocktail joint of my acquaintance where I know they have a bottle of real Amer Picon. By real, I mean the version of the amaro that has been produced in France in recent years—a recipe I am led to believe is different from what was sold in the early 20th century.

As I understand Boudreau's story, he created the homemade Amer Picon to match the taste of the currently sold amaro. But when he took it to the Tales of the Cocktail convention and had some experts try it against a flask of the original, they decreed it matched the Real McCoy.

Ari Form and Matt DeVriendt were on duty when I passed through the door at Jake Walk, and, spotting my plain, bottle-shaped bag, knew what I was up to. They produced the Amer Picon and we taste-tested it next to my home-brewed potion. First of all, color. My stuff was visibly lighter than the legit Amer Picon, with an orangey-brown hue. Then the taste. The store-bought Amer Picon was deeper in flavor with more herbal, bitter and chocolate qualities. The brighter citrus and orange flavors came through in mine—not surprisingly, given at the orange bitters and tinctures that went into it. They were definitely different beasts.

They concluded my stuff to be a success, and we agreed that, while both were good, the homemade stuff—supposedly the original flavor of Amer Picon—was better suited to mixing cocktails. It had more vim and life and wasn't as heavy. It would marry better with other flavors. It would float to the top and sparkle, not weigh the drink down.

Is this the end of my Amer Picon obsession? Maybe not. I have a friend going to Europe soon and she promised to bring me back a bottle of the drink. Stay tuned.

Amer Picon Packs a Punch

With May comes the fruition of the many potions I embarked on in April. You'll hear about my homemade limoncello and orange bitters attempts in days to come. But for now, let's return to that version of Amer Picon I began in early April. As you may recall, it is based on the well-known recipe devised by bartender Jamie Boudreau.

I could have whipped this baby up in a day if it weren't for Boudreau's insistence that an orange tincture of 40 days of age was required. I dutifully waited the 40 days, shaking the damn thing up every morning. I then mixed it up with the required amounts the Italian amaro Ramazzotti (easy to find), Fee Brothers Orange bitters (ditto) and Stirring Blood Orange Bitters (not easy to find at all!). The resultant potion was a deep tobacco-juice brown. But damn if it didn't taste authentic, and close to what I've heard Amer Picon should taste like.

I set about making myself a Liberal. (The cocktail, I'm mean; I'm already a liberal.) Rye, sweet vermouth, Amer Picon, orange twist. Very nice. I was happy to know I could now make these on a regular basis. Then I tried one more recipe I had been eyeballing for some time: the Amer Picon Punch. This required a whopping two ounces of the sacred stuff, plus 1/4 ounce of lemon juice and 1/4 ounce of Grenadine, served in a high ball over iced and topped with soda water and "seasonal fruit."

As loathe as I was to dispense in one go with so much of my new elixir, which was so hard won, I went for it. And wow! What a drink! I didn't really believe a drink so heavily based on an amaro could be that fantastic, but it was amazing. Potent and layered, yet light and refreshing, with the juice and fruit (I used an orange slice) drawing out hidden flavors in the Amer Picon. I could drink these things all day, particularly during the summer.

I must get to work on my next batch to ensure I can.

Amer Picon on the Brain

Now that Absinthe is again made all over the place and readily available in liquor stores and bars, there are few potions in cocktail geekdom that excite the blood of the fanaticist as Amer Picon.

Amer Picon, as Drinkboy described it, "is a bitter cordial made with orange, gentian, and other ingredients." It's an Amaro, which is Italian for "bitter." Amaros are a variety of Italian herbal liqueurs, and have a fairly high alcohol content. Amer Picon used to be readily available in the good ol' U.S. of A., and is a part of many classic pre-Prohibition cocktails. For some time, however, it has an unpurchaseable item Stateside. It exists still, but only over in Europe, and apparently was reformulated in the 1970s, creating a Old Coke-New Coke-like split on whether the new version can hold a candle to the old.

West coast bartender Jamie Boudreau (that's a real bartender's name, isn't it?) last year came up with a formula which he believes replicates the taste of the original Amer Picon, and many of the more prominent Cocktailians seem to agree. I got a hold of the recipe and am in the process of putting the stuff together. It really doesn't take that long, except that that Jamie insists the orange tincture that is one of the ingredients sit for two months. It's been on my shelf for one week and already I'm impatient. His website said I can cut the time by a month if I shake the jar up three times a day, so I may go that route. I'm not promising anything! (The picture is courtesy of Boudreau's site, since I ain't got no bottle to photograph.)

Events conspire to keep Amer Picon on my mind. I was bellying up to the bar at Death & Co. the other night and got to talking with its able bartender Paul. He said the bar used to have some real Amer Picon smuggled over from Europe, but made the mistake of listing it as an ingredient in a featured cocktail. Word got around and the stuff was gone in a flash.

That lesson may soon be learned over again by a recently opened Brooklyn bar. (I'm not going to say which, because I don't want to incite a run on the place.) They possess a bottle of the stuff (old or new, I can't say), prominently on view behind on the bar. Recently, they started featuring it as part of the on-offer Liberal cocktail. (Rye, sweet vermouth, Amer Picon.) I've made Liberals at home, using various substitutes for the Picon, but they never tasted like this. Best Liberal I ever had. The Amaro added amazing and pleasing layers of depth and flavor. The bartender said they won't be serving any Picon Punch, because the bottle would be emptied in a flash.

One thing I'd like to know. Amer Picon is unavailable here, but does that make it illegal to sell it in an American bar. Anyone know?