Happy Hour: The Chocolate Bramble
by Diana Vilibert
With less than two weeks left before I move (from one part of Brooklyn to another part of Brooklyn, naturally), I have officially entered the packing panic zone. I didn’t realize this until last night, but that is the nature of the packing panic zone; it sneaks up on you.
One minute you’re carefully wrapping your candles in tissue paper before setting them down in the shoebox you’ve carefully marked (with a brand new Sharpie and a newly discovered talent in calligraphy) as the candle shoebox. And the next, you’re sweating and throwing your vibrator in with your shoes and Tupperware, and you’re hunched over and limping for some reason, and marking all of the boxes “miscellaneous” and then “misc.” and finally just telling yourself you don’t ned to mark the boxes; that you’ll definitely remember that, obviously, the sort of smallish, but not the smallest, maybe third smallest box is the Nair and baking supplies box.
So, to get through it, instead of just setting fire to everything I own and living off the grid, I am drinking ALL of the gin. And though I’m mostly just concocting gin-and-anythings, I’ll class it up for you and share a new favorite, which combines my favorite cocktail and my favorite food group: the Bramble and chocolate. Not everyone is a fan of the dessert cocktail, but with the citrus, this one is definitely on the lighter side and worth a try if you’re on the fence.
2 parts Plymouth gin
1 part lemon juice (fresh)
.75 parts sugar syrup
.5 parts crème de cacao
Grated nutmeg, half a lemon slice, and blackberries for garnish
Directions: Build each drink in the glass, adding the gin, lemon juice, and sugar syrup. Stir those three, then fill with crushed ice and float the crème de cacao on top. If you don’t have a blender or freezer that makes crushed ice, just put the ice in a bag (canvas or cotton is better than plastic), and bludgeon it with something heavy. Garnish with half a slice of lemon, a few blackberries, and a grating of nutmeg.
Image courtesy Plymouth because mine looked like dirty water.
Previously: The Perfect Frozen Margarita.
Diana Vilibert is a freelance drinker and writer living and packing forever in Brooklyn.