They say that where there is smoke, there is fire. That is mostly true, though, if we are honest, once a small fire has kicked over into a full scale conflagration the amount of smoke generally drops down as more fuel is consumed. Like the danger to follow, the smoke starts small and increases slowly until things really get going. Those first tendrils are a warning of what is to come, that is why we have firetowers. They watch for the smoke, because as long as things are smoldering you can still put the fire out. So, with a nod toward Smokey Bear and that eternal vigilance that Thomas Jefferson almost certainly did not reference, or at least not first; won’t you join me now as we stand and make the Paris is Burning.

This drink was created by Leo Robitschek at New York’s famed NoMad Bar in the hotel of the same name. He is a legend in the cocktail scene having won pretty much every award out there and the admiration of a generation. He began his career behind the stick at Eleven Madison Park in 2005 and stayed with its ownership group when they opened NoMad in 2012. The evolution of the restaurants, bar program and how they changed the idea of the elevated dining experience is truly fascinating and I recommend picking up Will Guidara’s “Unreasonable Hospitality” if you want to learn more about how to do the impossible, with style and panache. Sadly, the hotel closed in 2021 during the pandemic along with its bar and restaurant; still, reading through The NoMad Cocktail Book, I am constantly amazed at the creativity of their program and the honest simplicity of many of the recipes. There are some real works of art in there, like the Red Light or their reimagined Amaretto Sour 2.0. He describes this drink as a “smoky gin sour with elderflower,” which sounds like a little slice of heaven to me, so let’s make one and se what all the fuss is about.

Grab your tins and pop in 1 ounce of mezcal, I chose Rey De Matatlan, Gran Reserva de la Casa; 1 ounce of a dry gin, I went with Botanist; 1/2 an ounce of St. Germain Elderflower liqueur, 1 ounce of pineapple juice, 1/2 an ounce of fresh squeezed lemon juice and 1/4 ounce of simple syrup. Toss in a handful of that artisanal ice and give it a good shake to the beat of “Fire & Rain“, but go with the John Denver version and that amazing 12-string work. When your tins are well chilled, double strain into a Nick & Nora and garnish with three drops of aromatic bitters, I used 18-21 Prohibition bitters, because the bottle was closer than the Angostura.

Now, that is my kind of drink. It is deeply, complex and unexpected. The smoke from the mezcal is upfront answering the door, while those rich botanicals from the gin welcome you in, strongly present but smoothed by the elderflower, the simple and pineapple sweetness. The finish is bright and tart from the lemon juice and there is a lingering spice, almost like cinnamon to finish. This thing evolves in each sip and I am here for it. Just reading it I knew this was going to be something special and, like everything I have tried from the NoMad playbook, it certainly is.

There sure is a lot of smoke in our lives these days, obscuring our vision, making it hard to tell what is true. Maybe Paris really is burning or perhaps it is just the fog blowing in from the moors or even that fire from the conclave whose white smoke will announce the new Pope; it is hard to tell just what is really going on with so many smokescreens out there. It is easy to look around, though, and see that things are not normal. There is definitely something in the air that many of us have not seen in our lifetimes, though we have read about it. The last time a lot of people wrote things off assuming that those small fires in far off places would burn themselves out. They were wrong. I hope that with the threat of wildfires in our own backyard we will soon see the collective wisdom of looking out for ourselves and our neighbors by taking care of things before the fires grow out of control and all we are left with is scorched earth and regret. But, what do I know, I am just a monkey with delusions of grandeur…and a fairly strong grasp of history. I still have faith that, as they have in the past, the better angels of our nature will rise, turn on the taps and turn down the temperature. I have to believe that better days are coming, but till they do, stay safe, stay hydrated and try to stay sane, my friends.