On Bitters

I am a spirits and cocktail enthusiast. I don’t consider myself an expert in either of these fields; for all the cocktails I’ve made, I still have to look at the recipes each time I make the drinks. As someone who has always struggled to be much of a chef, cocktails represent the culinary road less traveled, as it were. But mixing spirits has an inherent romance for me; while I might not grow excited at the thought of making the perfect batch of scrambled eggs, the pursuit of the perfect gin and tonic is enthralling.

Exploring spirits has allowed me to exercise a number of my interests, from culinary to historical all the way to joy of collecting. There’s a wonderful mystery to bottles, from the details of the label to the color of the liquid through the glass. I derive as much pleasure from examining my collection and planning my next purchase as I do from the drinks themselves. (Ok, maybe not as much, but quite a bit nonetheless.) The spread of bottles, in all different colors and sizes, represents possibility; my collection of spirits isn’t just an inert set of raw materials, it’s a living, breathing ecosystem that swells and recedes as my tastes and interests shift.

For all the fascination that aged scotch or armagnac might bring, I find bitters to be the most engaging part of my collection. Though they share this background with the major spirit types, for me bitters have retained more of their medicinal history. I might not actually see a bottle of bitters as a cure-all, but the potent aromas, vivid colors and power to change the flavor of even the most intense liquors with just a few drops all point to their transformative power.

Maybe it’s their often complex recipes that lend bitters their “liquidity” of flavor. One drop marks a subtle shift in aromatic profile; two or three can meld the flavors in a cocktail in a truly unique way; four or more and you are a very bold drinker. (However, a healthy dose of Angostura in a glass of club soda is a unique pleasure.)

Even the shape of the bottles, though practical, lends to their alchemical presence. The standard 750ml spirits bottle is a powerful symbol. It stands proud and assertive, ready to spill forth its contents in waves of varying-hued nectar. But the diminutive bitters bottle possesses all the power and mystery of its big brother, it’s merely condensed to a size commensurate with its use. Pulling powerful flavors from such small packages seems somehow counterintuitive, but it’s that inexplicable quality that defines bitters for me.

When I began exploring cocktails, bitters were the most inscrutable of the products I encountered. It took quite a bit of experimentation to understand their effect, and even now I feel I’ve only touched the beginnings of their application. Fortunately, I’m not alone in my fascination. The world of bitters has grown immensely in recent years, with the familiar Angostura and Peychaud’s finding complement in dozens of flavors from producers around the world. Cocktail Kingdom has a wonderful selection of bitters, many of which I have ordered for myself. And for the more adventurous amongst you, recipes for homemade bitters abound on the internet.

I hope others find the same joy in bitters that I do. Just don't be surprised if the only thing they cure is your itch for a new hobby.