Recipe

sidecar

If there’s anything that’s been consistent about this site in its near-20 years of beaming (babbling?) hypertext to servers and back to you, it’s that I’m very bossy when I get into something new, especially cocktails. When I fell in love with Porch Swings, I wanted you to as well. Ditto for Blood Orange Margaritas (but only when in season), a Perfect Manhattan era that spanned over a decade, Boulevardier that has been woven into almost every year since, and a Slushy Paper Plane phase last year. This past winter and spring still, it’s been Sidecars, 1920s-era cocktails with about as many conflicting stories as my kids regale us with when they didn’t do their homework.


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In the one I find the most amusing, an American army captain in World War 1-era Paris would apparently roll up to a bar in a motorcycle sidecar — I have many questions including: who was the driver? — and became a regular at Hôtel Ritz Paris or possibly Harry’s New York Bar, depending on who is telling the story. The captain would order a mix of cognac, orange liqueur, and lemon juice and eventually, bartenders named the drink after his particular vehicular quirk.

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In other origin stories, bartenders serve the drink with a little extra leftover from the cocktail shaker poured into a second glass… that they called the sidecar. Again, maybe it’s true, but I’m a skeptic, albeit a bemused one. I’m far more interested in its taste. I saw it referred to as the French cousin of a margarita, and honestly, I get it — it’s strong (from cognac), bright (from lemon), and slightly sweet (from orange liqueur) but balanced, as daisy drinks often are. Typically the sidecar is served with a sugared rim which I find completely unnecessary for taste (it is sweet enough) but cannot resist the way raw sugar gets a golden glint to it and include it here. We all need a little extra sparkle sometimes, right?

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P.S. My cookbooks are on sale through the wonderful, independent Porchlight Books and if you order any one, two, or three of them, they will include a Mother’s Day card signed by me (and occasionally my 10 year-old). Order by Monday 4/27 to get the gift(s) in time for 5/10. [Smitten Kitchen Cookbook Sale]

Sidecar

  • Servings: 2
  • Source: Smitten Kitchen
  • Print

This drink typically has a 2:1:1 ratio but we’ve lowered the lemon, the final 1, a tiny bit, as we prefer it this way. Do adjust it back if it’s not your preference. Sidecars are typically made with cognac or brandy, but I had an excellent one with bourbon in Albany Ale & Oyster a few weeks ago — you might like it too.

  • 1 ounce (30 ml or 2 tablespoons) lemon juice, plus an extra wedge for a sugared rim
  • Raw or turbinado sugar, for the rim (optional)
  • 3 ounces (90 ml or 6 tablespoons) cognac or brandy
  • 1 1/2 ounces (45 ml or 3 tablespoons) cointreau or triple sec

If you’d like to sugar the rim of your glasses, swipe with a wedge of lemon and roll it in the raw sugar. Shake cognac, cointreau, and lemon juice in a cocktail shaker or jar with ice until it’s unpleasantly cold to hold, then pour through a strainer into your glasses. Cheers!

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6 comments on sidecar

  1. Deanna

    In 2000, when I was a mere 12 year old I first encountered the sidecar as the signature drink of The Dowager Princess Clarisse Renaldo of Genovia. I filed it away in the back of my mind until my 20s, when I decided in a sea of cosmos and lemon drops I would be *unique and sophisticated* and deemed the Sidecar my signature cocktail. Thank goodness I still love them and try to convert people to it regularly, especially in the winter.

    If you’re looking for another cocktail to add to the repertoire can I suggest the Blood and Sand? It’s classically equal parts Scotch (I usually use bourbonk), sweet vermouth, orange juice, and cherry heering.