Last week, while reminiscing about the various fun summer activities I engaged in as a child, I remembered a game some kids liked to play which I was not so fond of–Leap Frog. I remember lots of kids getting a huge thrill from the game, but never me. Frankly, the idea of kneeling down and having some kid jump over my shoulders from behind, with the inevitable and all too common risk of his crotch smacking the back of my head, well, let’s say it wasn’t something I was thrilled to be a part of. Equally unappealing was the idea of being the jumper and chancing either a mistimed jump or having the kid lift his head slightly too soon, so as to cause my crotch to crash full speed into the back of his dome–I’ll pass, thanks.

Now I’m an adult, and while I still have no love for the crotch-crash game (unless it’s of a different kind, if you know what I mean) there is a different version of Leap Frog that I’ve come to enjoy–a version which of course comes in liquid form. Leap Frog also happens to be a name for a fairly old yet simple drink comprised of gin, lemon juice, and ginger ale in a highball glass. It’s easy to make and quite on-the-money for those of you interested in putting in minimal labor during summer’s final moments.

For the sake of being thorough I should mention there’s another drink by the same name, but with completely different ingredients and definitely not as tasty as the first one mentioned. It’s essentially like a grenadine-spiked Hotel Nacional cocktail. I’m not posting the recipe because it’s just not that good (try the Hotel Nacional instead) but the recipe for this lesser version of the Leap Frog is at CocktailDB if you’re interested.

To add to the confusion I’ve discovered a third cocktail called Leap Frog, which is the one pictured above. This one’s the newest of them all and it comes from Jim Meehan of famed NYC speakeasy PDT. Although I haven’t been able to ask Jim about this, it seems his version is actually a cross between the two aforementioned versions, with some additions of his own–if you compare the recipes you’ll see the similarities. This one requires a tad more prep time but if you aren’t overly dreading the countdown to fall and can spare a few more minutes for the sake of mixological magnificence, I assure you this one’s worth every minute of your effort. But first the original.

Leap Frog
1 1/2 oz gin
1 oz fresh lemon juice
ginger ale to top

Tools: something to stir with

Glass: highball

Throw a few lumps of ice in the glass and add the gin and lemon juice; top with the ginger ale and give a brief stir.

The thing to remember about highballs is that their very simplicity is the reason you don’t want the flavors to mix too much. Instead, you want the taste to vary slightly with each sip, so a mere light stir is enough. Also, since highballs usually have a carbonated component, overstirring will allow too much carbonation to escape which produces a flatter tasting drink.

Leap Frog (pictured above, adapted from Jim Meehan of PDT)
2 oz gin
3/4 oz fresh lemon juice
1/2 oz apricot liqueur (used Rothman & Winter Orchard Apricot)
1/2 oz caster sugar
1/2 oz hot water
9 mint leaves
2 dashes orange bitters

Tools: muddler, shaker, strainer

Glass: cocktail

Pour the sugar and hot water in the shaker and stir until fully dissolved. Add the mint and lightly crush it with the muddler. Fill the shaker with ice, add remaining ingredients and shake like you got hit unexpectedly in the back of the head. Double strain into a cocktail glass and enjoy.

Double straining still leaves a few tiny mint pieces in the drink, which is actually what I wanted because they remind me of little lily pads. If you want a drink free of small floating mint pieces, use a tea strainer with smaller filter holes instead of a standard strainer.

How any of these drinks–perhaps with the exception of Meehan’s hybrid–came to be called Leap Frog is anyone’s guess, as I surely don’t know and haven’t been able to track down the answer. Perhaps a conversation with Meehan may reveal something I don’t.

Nonetheless the moral of the story should not go unheeded–don’t involve yourself in summertime activities that lead to crotches crashing in the back of other’s heads (or into your head for that matter, unless of course you’re into that sort of thing) thereby preventing bad summer memories. Instead, make cocktails that won’t unduly interfere with your noggin (except for inducing inebriation) and allow yourself to make it to next summer in one piece.

Cheers!

*Got a cocktail question? Hit me on twitter @paystyle, email me at payman(at)lifesacocktail(dot)com, or simply drop me a comment below!

Paystyle was born in Tehran and grew up in Los Angeles (aka Tehrangeles) before moving to Brooklyn with his wife and co-pilot Vanessa Bahmani who provides the stunning photography of Pay’s cocktail concoctions. Return to UMAMIMART every Wednesday for his weekly Happy Hour column.

Yes indeed, the Mojito is finally making its Happy Hour debut. You may have wondered what took so long–ok, so maybe you don’t ponder the decision-making process of Happy Hour columns in your spare time, but I’ll tell you anyway. I was waiting for the heat of the NYC summer to really unleash itself before discharging on your pallette the minty cannon of cool known as the Mojito.

Unfortunately I realized my patience might be in vain, as I’ve not even had occasion yet to turn on my air conditioner one time this entire year, believe it or not. At the very moment I’m writing this it is 68 degrees outside, and it’s not even evening yet–a real scorcher, I know. At this rate an Indian Summer is probably the best I can hope for–but if I wanted Northern California weather I would have never left. First the insomniac bears in the Moscow Zoo in the winter, and now this?

Well, abnormal global weather patterns be damned! Mother Nature, I’m moving forward, with or without you! Besides, it’s perfect timing for the Mojito, since the last two weeks I’ve written about two other classic Cuban cocktails, the Daiquiri and it’s close cousin, the Hotel Nacional.

If a menage a trois could produce offspring with DNA from all participants, then the Mojito would be the result of a tryst between the Daiquiri, Mint Julep, and Tom Collins. It’s citrusy and rummy like the Daiquiri, minty like a Julep, fizzy and tall like a Collins, and subtly sweet like them all. Thus with regard to categories of classic cocktails, the Mojito is really a hybrid of a Sour (Daiquiri), Smash (Julep), and a Fizz (Collins).

Yet while the Mojito seems to share the DNA of these drinks, it wasn’t actually birthed from them. In fact the Mojito is older than the Tom Collins, and at least as old as the Daiquiri; and although the Mint Julep is a certifiable old timer in the cocktail world, some evidence suggests rum was its initial base instead of the beloved Bluegrass bourbon, which if true, brings the Mint Julep’s lineage much closer to the Mojito’s.

Metaphorical exercises aside, the Mojito’s historical lineage is fairly settled (at least compared to other classic drinks), and is fairly old as well. According to popular lore, a drink called the Draque was created in the late 16th century in honor of Sir Francis Drake by one of his men. It consisted of mint, lime, sugar, and a cheap, harsh predecessor of modern-day rum called tafia or aguardiente (“firewater”)–all ingredients commonly found in the Caribbean, which was where Drake did much of his pillaging. By the early 19th century the drink had become popular among workaday Cubans, who also referred to it as Draquecito.

At what point did the Draque or Draquecito evolve into the Mojito? Neither the precise moment nor the exact individual(s) responsible are known although evidence suggests that the Mojito arrived prior to the 20th century. Cocktail scholar David Wondrich speculates that the turning point occurred sometime after Don Bacardi set up shop, which would take somewhere in the vicinity of 1862. This seems to be a decent approximation, but not so much because of Bacardi in my opinion, although Bacardi’s timing could not have been better for his sake.

Rather, the late 19th century was a time when a number of different technological advancements that were crucial to the creation of drinks like the Mojito happened to coalesce. By this time the harsh aguardiente had long given way to a much smoother spirit known as rum; consumable soda water was invented and becoming more widely available; and most importantly, commercial refrigeration systems were invented, which enabled bartenders to incorporate in their drinks what is perhaps the most important ingredient in the modern-day cocktail–ice. This innovation more than any other blew the door open on the art of mixology and catapulted bartending to a true art.

With these factors in place it was only a matter of time before someone who possessed the dangeorus combination of great thirst and creativity took the Draque and replaced the aguardiente with rum, added crushed ice and seltzer, and called it a Mojito–the name itself likely derived from the Spanish word “mojado,” meaning “wet.” A fitting name in my book, as that seems to be the inevitable state of my kitchen counter anytime I make one.

History always made me thirsty, so with that in mind, here’s a recipe for a classic Mojito.

Mojito
2 oz white rum
3 tsp caster sugar (superfine sugar, or simple syrup if you prefer)
12 mint leaves (plucked from the sprig)
2 lime quarters
plenty of crushed ice
seltzer to top
mint sprig for garnish

Tools: muddler, stirrer/straw

Glass: Collins or other highball glass (pre-chilled if you like)

Place the lime and sugar in the glass and muddle a bit to dissolve the sugar. Add the mint leaves and lightly bruise them with the muddler. Add the rum and some crushed ice and give it a good stir. Top with the seltzer, give another light stir, and pack a bit more crushed ice on top if you like (this is the part when my counter gets wet). Add the straw or stirrer, garnish with a sprig of mint, and you’re done.

Unlike what you find most bartenders will do nowadays, you want to lightly bruise the leaves, not smash them, as it will release too much bitter taste when all you want is nice mint flavor. This is also why the mint leaves are better plucked from the sprig when muddling instead of left on, as the stem only contributes bitterness. And before adding the mint garnish, I like to either gently roll the sprig a bit between my hands or hold it in the palm of one hand and lightly clap my hands together a few times to release the minty aroma from the leaves, so that you get a nice nose of mint with each sip.

If you don’t have an ice crusher, you can easily crush ice by wrapping the cubes in a clean towel and taking a hammer to it. It’s also important to note that a straw or stirrer is a useful tool in a drink like this whose ingredients are not distributed in a cocktail shaker. Otherwise you’re likely to sip a whole lot of seltzer before tasting anything else.

The Mojito is one of those hate it or love it drinks–those who get to drink it love it, and those who have to make it often hate it. It is one of those party drinks that everyone loves, except when it’s your party and you have to do all the labor. While there’s certainly a bit more labor involved, it’s not so much so that it makes you want to rethink the entire venture, unless you’re entertaining a large group, that is.

The law of diminishing returns rarely operates in the realm of the Mojito, especially when treating yourself to one. As far as warm weather activities go, approach the Mojito same way you would an inflatable pool mat. Sure you gotta put in some effort, but it’s well worth it when it’s done and ready to be enjoyed. Cheers!

*Paystyle was born in Tehran and grew up in Los Angeles (aka Tehrangeles) before moving to Brooklyn with his wife and co-pilot Vanessa Bahmani who provides the stunning photography of Pay’s cocktail concoctions. Return every Wednesday for his weekly Happy Hour column.