Welcome To Wonkette Happy Hour, With This Week's Cocktail, The Shaggy Soldier!

Pisco? What the heck is Pisco? Glad you asked.

A margarita’s scruffier cousin.

Greetings, Wonketeers! I’m Hooper, your bartender. I decided to branch out and try something completely new to me — Pisco, a liquor I’ve never played with before. Pisco’s got a funkiness that’s more refined than Jamaican rum or tequila, but still tastes like liquid sunshine. It took some ... study to figure out how to make this one palatable for me. Which isn’t nearly as much fun as it sounds, but I’ll throw myself on the grenade for my readers. Let’s make a Shaggy Soldier. Here’s the recipe.

Shaggy Soldier

2 oz Pisco

1 oz pineapple syrup

1 oz Stirrings Triple Sec

½ oz lime juice

3-4 dashes orange bitters

Shake all ingredients and pour over into a rocks glass with chipped ice. Salted rim optional. Garnish with a lime wheel.

Pineapple Syrup

½ oz pineapple juice

½ oz sugar

Heat both ingredients over medium heat until simmering. Stir until the sugar dissolves.

The name of this cocktail is a bit obscure, but bear with me. There’s a family of cocktails referred to as “daisies,” which are made with spirits, citrus, and a sweet liqueur. The margarita is a prime example of a daisy. The Pisco Sour is the classic Pisco cocktail, but it uses sugar and lime juice, much like a daiquiri. So, this drink, sweetened with triple sec and a pineapple syrup, is a daisy instead of a sour. It just so happens that there’s a flower called the Peruvian Daisy; it’s also called a “Shaggy Soldier.” Therefore … a long walk, I admit it. But let’s be honest, if there wasn’t a cocktail called a Shaggy Soldier before this, there ought to have been one.

With all that out of the way, let’s talk about Pisco. It’s the national spirit of Peru; the country loves their funky, unaged, single-distillation brandy in a way that’s hard to ignore. It is nothing like cognac, apple brandy, or any other brandy that’s aged in barrels. This stuff is raw, earthy, and funky in a way that reminds me of hard-core Jamaican rum like Wray and Nephew. It hits differently than the Jamaican stuff, though. Pisco is less obnoxiously fruity, and hits in the middle of the palate instead of smacking you in the mouth with week-old banana notes right off the bat. It reminds me of the fruit stand at the Cleveland Farmer’s Market in July on a weekday afternoon. There’s a whole lot of fruit notes, they’re a bit past their prime, and they really want to go home with you now.

It took a while to figure out how to use Pisco, and I have to confess the process wasn’t a pleasant one. I made a classic Pisco Sour, complete with egg white. It didn’t thrill me. Somehow it managed to be bland, funky, and sour, all in the same glass. What about using elderflower liqueur instead of sugar? Nope. The floral notes vanished into the Pisco. Pisco, pineapple juice, and lime? Too acidic, but with potential.

At this point, I had consumed three cocktails in the name of research on a Sunday afternoon. Three cocktails I didn’t actually like. Three cocktails featuring a very raw, unaged liquor. This spelled trouble. I generally prefer my benders to be for better things, but this excursion had been a trial. Sure enough, the next day’s hangover was a stinker. But I persevered and found a final recipe worth enjoying. I hope you appreciate my sacrifice.

Let’s talk ingredients:

Ingredient shot. I didn’t drink this one afterwards. After interrogating the Pisco all Sunday, there were still some hard feelings.

Barsol Pisco Quebranta: Honestly, this was the only Pisco available to me. But it does seem to be one of the good ones. It’s a single-grape varietal of Pisco, using quebranta grapes, a variety grown for Pisco at this point. I’m sure there are cheaper Piscos out there that taste just as cheap; I’m glad this bottle was my introduction to the spirit.

Pineapple syrup: Pineapple juice by itself was too acidic in the drink. It argued with the Pisco assertively, and the war in the glass wasn’t much fun. Making a syrup with pineapple juice broke down some of the acid and provided necessary sweet notes.

Stirrings Triple Sec: Use Cointreau if you have it; Stirrings is the more affordable option. The liqueur adds herbal notes and sweetness that complete the drink. Without it, it’s still very sharp and acidic. Don’t skip this.

Lime juice: Fresh is best. Plastic limes provide plastic juice. Use a light hand here; the pineapple has a lot of acid to start with, and you don’t want the drink to get corrosive.

Orange bitters: Some citrus to tie everything together. Be as generous as you like here.

A salted rim is optional, but nods to the ancestral connection to the margarita in this drink. Penzey’s is a patron saint of this page, but they don’t sell a lime salt that a personal friend of mine does, so toss her some money this Black Friday.

In summary and conclusion, drink well, drink often, and tip your bartender — donate to Wonkette at the link below!

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We aren’t linking to Amazon anymore, because fuck Bezos. Go read Spirits of Latin America by Ivy Mix instead. It’s all about Latin American cocktails, and after this exploration I’m dying to hear what she has to say. This one’s on my reading list.

You can find me on Bluesky at @samuraigrog!

DRINK and OPEN THREAD!