The Moscow Mule
The Moscow Mule is not quite the simplest cocktail to make--that distinction goes to the Screwdriver (vodka + orange juice) and similar two-ingredient drinks that you just pour into a tall glass filled with
ice, period. But it's pretty damn simple. As cocktail historian David Wondrich maintains, with only slight exaggeration, "your dog could make one."
Nearly every cocktail has the same origin story: "Necessity is the mother of invention" combined with a brilliant flash of genius that invents the recipe on the spot. Mostly this is just folklore, but in the case of the Moscow Mule it's pretty much straight reporting.
Here's how it goes.
Although ubiquitous nowadays, in 1941 vodka was still relatively little-known in the United States. So when John G. Martin, the senior executive of G.F. Heublin, an alcoholic beverage firm, discovered Smirnoff, a small firm that made vodka in small batches--about 20 cases a day--he bought the whole operation for $14,000. He then discovered to his dismay that the American market for vodka was not exactly robust, and that he had on his hands an ever-growing cache of vodka that he could not sell.
Fortunately, Jack Morgan, the owner of a pub in Hollywood, had the same problem, save that his involved a massive inventory of ginger beer. In late 1941--or maybe 1946, depending on the source--Martin and Morgan commiserated over their respective plights and decided to combine the vodka and the ginger beer into a cocktail, the only addition to which was the juice from half a lime. Heublin salesmen then called upon dozens of bars and convinced the owners to give the drink a try. As an advertising gimmick they served the cocktail in a copper mug (allegedly acquired from a third businessman with a cornucopia of cocktail mugs he could not unload), and this soon became the standard vessel for the cocktail, dubbed, of course, the Moscow Mule.
The "Moscow" part of the name is obvious. The "Mule" part derived from the rather absurd claim that the ginger beer "had a kick like a mule."
In the years after World War II, vodka went from a minor spirit in American bars to one that gave whiskey, rum, and gin a run for their money. The Moscow Mule was by no means wholly responsible for this development, but it did its share to popularize vodka, partly because it acquired a certain mystique. The kind of mystique that in a 1966 ad had actress/singer Eartha Kitt favoring the viewer with a sultry stare with her sensuous back resting against possibly the most idiotic depiction of a mule ever devised by man.
How, you inquire, does one make a Moscow Mule? Thanks for asking.
Inevitably, there's more than one recipe, but I like this one:
Fill a Moscow Mule mug with ice.Add 2 oz vodka1/2 oz lime juice, freshly squeezed (about half a lime)3 oz ginger beer, chilled. (The chilled part is important. Anything carbonated beverage at room temperature will fizz too much, overfill the mug with foam, and go flat. For that matter, you should pour any carbonated beverage at a 45-degree angle, to retain the carbonation.)Garnish with a lime wheel.
If you don't have copper mugs, you're kind of a loser, because they're inexpensive and you can find them anywhere, including Wal-Mart. (I am not making this up.) But in the unlikely event you have a few copper mint julep cups lying around, they will suffice. And if all else fails, a highball glass will work just fine, although it sacrifices presentation.
That's literally all there is to it. And it really does make a first-class drinking experience, especially on a hot summer day. In that respect the Moscow Mule rivals a Gin and Tonic or a summer shandy.
Naturally, people will tinker with any recipe. So if you want to substitute tequila for the vodka, you can have yourself a Mexican Mule; or bourbon whiskey, to create a Kentucky Mule. Personally I'm a fan of neither, but judge for yourself. There's also a rum-based variant called a Dark and Stormy, which I'll defer to a future post.
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