Congratulations on making your way to this column. No, I'm not flattering myself. I suspect, and would be impressed if, by this point you have crossed the finish line of prepping for yet another Christmas. Assuming you celebrate the holiday, why else would there be time for curling up with a newspaper, iPhone or Android device, to read about drinks on Dec. 24? The shopping's done. The turkey's thawing. Life is sweet. Just one thing's missing: a well-earned libation.
May I humbly suggest the gin twist? It's curiously absent from indexes in my substantial bar library save for an entry in the authoritative Difford's Guide. One probable reason: the cocktail's venerable age. Its heyday in London dates to the early-to-mid-1800s, about the time Charles Dickens, father of modern Christmas and a gin aficionado, was making a grand name for himself. I cannot say whether Scrooge's literary father was a twist man, but he reportedly loved gin punch – even getting Bob Cratchit to call for one in A Christmas Carol – of which this could be called a variant.
Legends testifying to the twist's former popularity are out there. Sir Walter Scott mentions it in the 1823 novel St. Ronan's Well. William Makepeace Thackeray refers to it later in Sketches and Travels in London. But then, following the rise of the gin and tonic and cheap beer in England, it seemed to fall off the radar.
The recipe's simple enough. A drink typically served hot, it makes a fine choice on a night when you're expecting a jolly guest from the North Pole, who might find it more restorative than a glass of lukewarm milk with cookies. It might, in fact, be more sensibly referred to as the gin toddy if the word toddy were not generally reserved nowadays for hot drinks involving brown spirits.
According to Difford's: Combine 1 1/2 ounces London dry gin with 3/4-ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice and 1/2-ounce simple syrup (one part water to one or two parts dissolved sugar) and top up your mug with boiling water (I'd suggest about three ounces, but go to town if you must rise early to baste the turkey). I say skip the simple syrup and just add a teaspoon of sugar, which will melt in any case.
I like Broker's gin for its attractive, under-$30 price, although pricey Hendrick's, with its fresh cucumber and rose-petal characters, works beautifully as well. So does affordable Beefeater, for that matter, and it's the most likely brand sitting on your bar, which would spare you the trouble of venturing out into the madding crowd.
The key to this potation is its eponymous garnish, a large, thin slice of lemon peel floated on top, which looks especially festive when twisted into a curl. That grace note is intended to telegraph that the juice in it is fresh, which would have been a big deal in the drawing rooms of Victorian England.
Mix this heartwarming bevvy tonight and you might finding yourself uttering the famous words of another Twist: "Please, sir, I want some more."