Sleepy Martini

There is no greater tease than the espresso martini. Tall, sleek, and slender, the elegant glass is filled to the brim with dark amber liquid, topped with a velvety crown of foam. The very air around it seems to buzz with the aroma of roasted coffee. Should you succumb to temptation, you’ll get a jolt of caffeine, masking the intoxicating effects of the alcohol. Too boozy for breakfast but too stimulating for a nightcap, this classic cocktail remains firmly out of my reach when adhering to a rational schedule.

Odds Bar & Bistro – Decaf Espresso Martini

Surely, I can’t be the only one that wants to imbibe and still fall asleep at night. And yet, decaf coffee liqueur is simply not a thing. As one of three primary ingredients, this is a problem. There’s also the shot of straight espresso, but how hard is it to swap that for decaf in the first place? Really, it’s such an easy fix, it’s laughable.

When Is A Martini Not A Martini?

One thing that bothers me about the espresso martini, besides mixing uppers and downers, is that it really isn’t a martini at all. By definition, a martini is classically made with gin and dry vermouth, optionally garnished with an olive or a lemon twist. Strong, dry, and served straight up in a chilled martini glass, it’s the consummate definition of elegance.

The only thing that the espresso martini shares, like many other variants that rely on additional flavorings and sweeteners bolstered by vodka, is the glass. This is important to clarify not to belittle the espresso martini, but to free ourselves of the pretense that it must contain x, y, or z. For the espresso martini, there are no rules aside from stemware.

Robust and Relaxing

Writing out a recipe for something so simple feels silly, but I know just as well as anyone that a good recipe doesn’t have to be ground-breaking, ambitious, or even terribly innovative. It has to be delicious, of course, foolproof, and something you’d want to make again and again. That’s the case for this cocktail, which could be cut down to as few as three real ingredients at its core.

That’s part of the appeal, too; something that can be whipped up on the fly, even when your liquor cabinet is mostly empty, when friends show up unannounced, or when you just need something to take the edge off, post haste. This is the one that I’m shaking out more often than not, so I think you might enjoy it, too.

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Spirited Secrets of Japan

Distinctly different from sake, and don’t you dare call it soju, shochu flies under the radar in most western liquor stores, yet is Japan’s top-selling spirit. Celebrated as the country’s national spirit, the fact that it’s nearly unknown to outsiders makes it feel like a poorly kept secret, whispered between izakaya stools while being passed around openly by patrons. Hidden in plain sight, shochu is primed for greater appreciation worldwide. Complex, storied, and incredibly versatile, I’m willing to wager that it’s the bottle missing on your bar cart right now.

Distilling the Highlights of Shochu

Shochu is a distilled spirit, bottled at no more than 45% ABV, and typically ranges quite a bit less. However, 24% ABV or lower isn’t even a thing in Japan. If you’ve seen something labeled “shochu” in California at wine-cooler strength, odds are it’s either a legal workaround or just plain mislabeling. To make things more confusing, some of it has been labeled as Korean soju to comply with the law.

Critical to the identity of shochu, it must be single-distilled. Because there’s only one pass through a pot still, every element leaves a strong impression.

Shochu can be made from just three ingredients. Some go solo while others create a blend from the full trio:

  • Sweet potato (imo) – earthy, funky, rich.
  • Barley (mugi) – nutty, clean, almost toasty.
  • Rice (kome) – soft, smooth, slightly floral.

Sweet potato and barley together account for 95% of shochu sales in Japan, which says a lot about the national palate. It’s grounded, earthy, umami, and robust.

Koji Craft

No matter the foundation of the ferment, shochu owes its depth to koji, the mold-based starter that’s the catalyst for transforming sugars into alcohol. Shochu producers employ a whole spectrum, and the differences dramatically affect flavor and aroma, creating unique regional styles.

  • White Koji Starter: This is the most common type used in shochu today. What’s wild is that it was actually discovered by accident as mutation from black koji. White koji is prized for its bright, balanced acidity and the ability to work well in both spirits and fermented foods that favor a cleaner, paler appearance, like white miso or amazake. It brings a gentle sweetness to shochu and is a go-to for distillers aiming for a crisp, clean finish.
  • Yellow Koji Starter: When koji mold sporulates, it forms yellowish-green spores—these are yellow koji starters. Traditionally used in foods like miso, amazake, and shio koji, yellow koji brings light, fruity, floral notes and low acidity. While it’s a staple in sake brewing, it’s less common in shochu. It forges delicate and nuanced flavors, but is not built for high temperatures or extended aging.
  • Black Koji Starter: Indigenous to Okinawa, black koji is the backbone of awamori, the bold, funkier counterpoint to shochu. Black koji thrives in hot, humid regions thanks to its high acidity, which naturally inhibits bacteria growth and spoilage. Flavor-wise, it’s earthy, spicy, and rich, full of character and perfect for deep, complex spirits with a bit of edge.

Cheers, To Your Health!

Besides being easy on the palate, shochu is refreshingly kind to your body, relative to other spirits. That’s because it’s…

  1. Lower in calories
  2. Additive-free by law (no artificial flavorings, colors, or added sugars)
  3. Historically recommended to combat gout, thanks to its very low purine content (¡Not medical advice!)

Mix It Up

While shochu is often enjoyed straight, on the rocks, or with hot water in Japan, it plays beautifully in cocktails. Clean, nuanced, and never overpowering, it blends seamlessly into many classics. For example, in a Sour, shochu’s crisp character complements the tang of citrus without overwhelming it, offering a sophisticated balance that’s both smooth and refreshing. In a Julep, barley shochu’s nutty, toasty notes blend beautifully with fresh mint and crushed ice, giving a lighter, more layered version of the traditional mint julep. You may not think it could stand up to the strong flavors of an Old Fashioned, yet aged barley shochu is often compared to whiskey for its dark, warm, subtly smoky notes.

With shochu, the goal is not to overpower but to enhance the flavors, creating cocktails that feel refined yet approachable—perfect for those looking for something familiar but with a new, subtly complex spin.

Start Sipping Today

It’s honestly baffling that shochu doesn’t enjoy even a fraction of the same popularity overseas. In 2022, Japan produced more shochu than Mexico produced tequila, and yet, many in the US have still never heard of it. In some ways, maybe that’s the beauty of it. Shochu doesn’t need to be flashy to be great. It just needs the right moment to find you, whether it’s a quiet night at home, a dinner with friends, or a curious detour through your local Japanese market.

Desert Door

J.R.R Tolkein once said that of all the phrases in the English language, of all the endless combinations of words in all of history, that “cellar door” is the most beautiful. I would argue that this is only because the phrase Desert Door hadn’t yet been introduced to linguistic discourse.

Tucked away in a sleepy corner of the Texas Hill Country, Desert Door feels more like a southwestern resort than a distillery. Adorned with carefully curated cacti, earthen textures, and playful string lights, the dog-friendly patio implores visitors to come on in and stay a while. The spirited hum of live music drifts in and out of animated conversations between friends, all while beverages slowly dwindle.

So… What Is Sotol?

Comparisons to tequila are unavoidable; both come from Mexico, both are distilled spirits, both are made from resilient desert plants. Sotol, however, is made from the Dasylirion, also known as the desert spoon. Native to West Texas and northern Mexico, it’s a scrappy little plant that survives on limestone, sun, and stubbornness. Another near neighbor is mezcal, which is a similar agave-based spirit that has a much smokier, more savory character than sotol. Aging, infusing, and generally tweaking the distilling process can create many overlapping qualities that makes their differences increasingly difficult to distinguish.

How It’s Made

Harvested wild by hand, the hearts of the desert spoon are steamed, fermented, and then triple distilled into a crystal-clear spirit. Desert Door crafts three distinct expressions of their sotol, each telling a different story of the land.

  • The Original is smooth and bright, with hints of citrus, green herbs, and a clean finish; this is the one most would compare to traditional tequila.
  • The Oak-Aged spends at least one year resting in American white oak barrels, soaking in notes of toffee, dried fruit, and warm baking spices, not unlike whiskey.
  • Most unique and my personal favorite is the Conservation Series infused with botanicals like mesquite, honeysuckle, and sage that evoke the impression of gin, but without the polarizing taste of juniper.

The folks at Desert Door are passionate about doing things right: sustainable ingredients, zero-waste operations, and a fierce loyalty to their Texan terroir. Even if you’re not usually a spirits person, sotol feels surprisingly accessible. It’s the kind of versatile liquor that plays well with others, be it citrus, herbs, fresh fruits, or just a single ice cube, melting slowly like a summer sunset.

A Taste of Texas in a Glass

Naturally, I couldn’t leave without trying a cocktail (or two). While the tasting flight gave me a deep appreciation for the spirit on its own, I found that sotol truly sings in cocktails, where its earthy elegance can mingle and unfold alongside bright, bold flavors. The on-site bar offered a handful of inventive, locally-rooted options, but one drink in particular bloomed on the palate like a cactus flower after rare desert rain: a Prickly Pear Margarita. Vibrant, jewel-toned, and ever so slightly wild, it balanced sotol’s herbal backbone with a sweet-tart burst of prickly pear and just enough lime to make the whole thing sparkle. It’s grounding and uplifting all at once, much like the distillery itself.

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