Welcome To Wonkette Happy Hour, With This Week's Cocktail, Viva Las Vegas!

Hail to the king, baby.

I like the presentation more than the drink.

Greetings, Wonketeers! I’m Hooper, your bartender. Sometimes, I write a cocktail because I’ve found a flavor combination I want to explore. Sometimes, I talk about a classic cocktail to reconnect with the fundamentals. Sometimes, I want to explore a new mixology technique. And sometimes, I write a cocktail because Hemingway’s was gifted with a monstrosity by a well-meaning distributor, and we need to use it up. This is one of those moments. Let’s enjoy a Viva Las Vegas. Here’s the recipe.

Viva Las Vegas

1 oz Chica Chida Peanut Butter Agave Spirit

1 oz creme de banana

1 oz Peloton de la Muerte mezcal

3-4 shakes cocoa bitters

Splash of Malort

Pour the Malort into a Nick and Nora glass. Swirl until the interior of the glass is coated with Malort. Discard any remaining Malort. Shake the remaining ingredients. Strain into the prepared Nick and Nora and garnish with an edible flower.

I … have no idea what Chica Chida is. It’s labeled as an “agave spirit,” so it isn’t tequila per se. That’s not a surprise, actually — real tequila is supposed to be additive-free. It doesn’t have any actual peanuts in it. (Allergen-free, yay!) It’s pretty tasty, but the sugar levels are through the roof. I’d expect that from most sweetened liquors — Skrewball and Fireball are both sugar bombs.

I will note that the Mexican government permits distillers to craft tequila that’s 99 percent additive free and sell it as 100 percent tequila. There’s a lot of room for mischief in that one percent. Some “100 percent blue agave” tequilas out there are doctored with sucrose, caramel color, and Lord knows what else. Any tequila with a strong vanilla note makes me suspicious (looking at you, Milagro. We aren’t on speaking terms, Casamigos). If you want the real-deal stuff, stick with distillers like Tres Agaves or Lalo, who’ve made a commitment to quality. This Chica Chida stuff isn’t even pretending to be quality tequila. The honesty is refreshing. The liqueur is not.

Reviews on this product are, to put it kindly, mixed. The tequila industry isn’t fond of celebrity tequilas, like Casamigos or Teremana (tequilas backed by George Clooney and Dwayne Johnson, respectively). This stuff is sponsored by Caleb Pressley, a comedian formerly with Barstool Sports. No idea who he is. Not encouraging.

This spirit is easy to take shots with, but difficult to turn into a cocktail. That sugar has to be tamed to make the stuff drinkable. Adding some mezcal helps. Adding some creme de banana does not. Banana liqueur — any liqueur, for that matter — has a high sugar content. We need to counteract that sweetness somehow, but the flavor profile we’re building for this drink — Elvis’s classic grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich — doesn’t really cooperate with an acid like lemon or lime juice.

That’s why we’re using a very, very small amount of Malort in this cocktail. I know, I know. Malort is … Malort. The nastiest, bitterest thing you can find in the liquor cabinet. But I’ve been coming around to the notion that it has a place in the cocktail world other than as a cheap dare. Malort is unspeakably bitter. But at the end of the day, bitter is a flavor, and one that can balance out sweetness rather nicely. Most of the Malort cocktails I’ve worked with have an extremely sweet base. My own Regrettable Tattoo has passion fruit syrup as a base; one of my partners at the bar runs a “Chicago Cherry” cocktail that uses the syrup from a Luxardo cherry jar as a primary component. Many classic cocktails use lemon or lime juice to make a sour-sweet drink; why not a bittersweet cocktail?

The end result is a cocktail that starts off like a dessert, with strong peanut butter and banana notes. The agave hits in the middle of the cocktail, and you’re left with a lingering, somewhat uncomfortable bitter finish that encourages you to take another sip to clean your palate. Definitely a cocktail fit for a King, baby.

Let’s talk ingredients:

Ingredient shot. Quite the rogue’s gallery.

Chica Chida Peanut Butter Agave Spirit: If you can’t find this at the liquor store … well, it’s not a great loss. Skrewball is a peanut butter-flavored whiskey that’s everywhere. Use that. Note that Skrewball does include peanuts, so be mindful of allergies.

Peloton de la Muerte Mezcal: A mezcal with strong agave notes helps remind Chica Chida what it’s supposed to do with its life, and the smokiness of mezcal leans towards the bacon in Elvis’s sandwich of choice. Swap in a nice rye whiskey instead of tequila if you’re going the Skrewball route.

Banana liqueur: We use Gifard at the bar; it’s the gold standard. 99 Bananas is cheaper, easier to find, and probably more appropriate in this glass.

Cocoa Bitters: Chocolate plays well with peanut butter, banana, and tequila, and the bitters help meld the disparate flavors in the glass.

Malort: There is no substitute for Malort. Be grateful.

My home bar is Hemingway’s Underground, the hottest cocktail bar in pretty little Medina, Ohio. I’m behind the stick Wednesday-Saturday, 4-10. Last call’s at midnight. Swing on by, and I’ll make a drink for you… or anything else from our little Happy Hour here at Wonkette.

OPEN THREAD!