Zombie – Recipe from David Embury’s ‘The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks’
1 teaspoonful Sugar Syrup
½ to ¾ ounce Lime Juice
¾ ounce fresh Pineapple Juice
1 ounce White Label Rum
2 ounces Gold Label Rum
1 ounce Jamaica Rum
2 teaspoonfuls Apricot Liqueur
½ to ¾ ounce mysterious ingredient
The above ingredients are shaken with crushed ice and poured, with the ice, into a Zombie glass (a 14- to 16-ounce Collins glass will do just as well). From 1 to 2 teaspoonfuls of 151-proof Demerara rum is then floated on top and the drink is decorated with slices of orange and lemon, pink and green cherries, a pineapple stick, and several sprigs of mint. Finally, powdered sugar is sprinkled over all. And there, brother, is your Zombie, grandfather of all pixies, and great uncle to the gremlins.
I’ve attached the full report from Embury right at the end, its quite the rant, but not wise to miss.
the mystery ingredient was a batched syrup of Donn’s making, including cinnamon, grapefruit, honey and other wonderful exotic spices.
It’s the papaya nectar on this that always throws me, it’s not in Embury’s recipe, but is in the original according to Beach Bum Berry. It’s tricky to get hold of in the UK as its one of few fruits that seem to have a season in UK shops. I always make it without and increase the pineapple juice to cover the volume, and often I add the tiniest dash of absinthe to add a bit more bitterness.
This drink is tied to Donn the Beachcomber, who must’ve had about the most interesting life. Born Ernest Raymond Beaumont-Gantt in 1907, when he hit 19 his parents had saved money for an education, and unlike almost every other parent on earth gave him the option of college, or the money, and Ernest took the money. This was 1926 and America was in the midst of prohibition and teetering on the edge of the Great Depression, so Ernest did the only sane thing and bought a yacht and used this to explore the pacific and run booze into the US for pocket money. Returning when prohibition ended he did what most sane people do and opened a bar, Don’s Beachcomber Café, filling the inside with memorabilia from his ravels through the pacific. There were elegant palm filled tropical clubs at the time, but Ernest (who from about now took the name Donn) had built something a lot rougher around the edges and the American public, unable to afford trips to Pacific after a crippling depression couldn’t get enough of it. Donn would later join the US army and fight in the second world war, gaining a purple heart ad a bronze star for his efforts while his wife expanded the business from one site to at its peak 24 bars and restaurants along the west coast, with their Hollywood site alone pulling in the equivalent of £12 million per year. Tiki culture had well and truly arrived.
What Donn’s most famous for now though is this drink, the Zombie.
There are several stories around its inception, all involve a close friend who was either about to attend a business meeting, or travel, who stumbled into Donn’s with a roaring hangover barely able to concentrate, Donn fixed him up this drink and sent him on the way (yes, hair of the dog is the BEST cure, always, just don’t tell your doctor), when he was next in he asked how it worked and was told ‘I felt like the living dead, you made a zombie out of me’, and the name stuck.
It soon graced menus with the disclaimer ‘maximum 2 per person’ which quickly reinforced its reputation as a drink not to be trifled with, and had the public doing everything they could for a 3rd and 4th. Marketing genius. Embury was not impressed.
Its not a bad drink at all, firmly within the Rum Punch category of drinks, and a far cry from everything else Embury has gathered for this book, it just shows how his hand was forced to include it with the popularity of tiki culture at the time. I really want to try this drink with Papaya, I’ve never got around to it, I think it will have to be a project for next summer.
Embury’s full right up follows below
This is undoubtedly the most over-advertised, over-emphasised, over-exalted, and foolishly feared drink whose claims to glory ever assaulted the eyes and ears of the gullible public.
Actually, as a drink, it is not bad at all; but the claims made for it and the advertising by which it has been touted, as well as one feature of the formula; offend my sensibilities in three respects.
First of all, I am allergic to secret formulas for mixing drinks at a bar or in the home. The Zombie formula is supposed to be the jealously guarded secret of Don the Beachcomber of Hollywood. One of the rum distilleries, however, states that they devised the original formula. Charles Baker junior, states that he invented a quite different formula some two years ahead of Don the Beachcomber. All this mystery, of course, is calculated to inspire curiosity and thus advertise the drink.
Second, I am also allergic to any fear-inspiring slogan such as
‘Only two to a customer’. Everyone except Caspar Milquetoast, of course, comes back for a third just to pit his personal prowess against the allegedly devastating power of the drink. This not only is the cheapest type of advertising; it is also a steal and a perversion pf the old claim of Southern Comfort of a ‘self-imposed limit of two to a person’.
Third, the multiplicity of various rums and other ingredients is an offence against the first principles of drink mixing and adds nothing to the flavour or other value of the drink. Two rums—white Cuban for the base and a dash of Jamaica for flavour—would do as well as four or five. The 151-proof Demerara adds nothing to the flavour of the drink, and the quantity used is too microscopic to add appreciably to the alcohol strength. The mere mention of 151-proof liquor, however, is sufficient to add to the mental hazard of the-unsophisticated consumer of the drink.
Twenty different bars serving this drink will probably not out eighteen to twenty different versions of it. In the main however each drink will be concocted approximately as follows
1 teaspoonful Sugar Syrup
½ to ¾ ounce Lime Juice
¾ ounce fresh Pineapple Juice
1 ounce White Label Rum
2 ounces Gold Label Rum
1 ounce Jamaica Rum
2 teaspoonfuls Apricot Liqueur
½ to ¾ ounce mysterious ingredient
The above ingredients are shaken with crushed ice and poured, with the ice, into a Zombie glass (a 14- to 16-ounce Collins glass will do just as well). From 1 to 2 teaspoonfuls of 151-proof Demerara rum is then floated on top and the drink is decorated with slices of orange and lemon, pink and green cherries, a pineapple stick, and several sprigs of mint. Finally, powdered sugar is sprinkled over all. And there, brother, is your Zombie, grandfather of all pixies, and great uncle to the gremlins.
This of course, is not a cocktail at all but a tall drink. However, since it is commonly, although erroneously, referred to as a ZOMBIE COCKTAIL, I am putting the formula here near the end of the cocktail recipes and, if you please, as an introduction to the chapter on tail drinks.