Despite five years in hospitality and more than triple that with a food blog where I try to convince you of my authority, some skills-based aspects of food elude me: I’ve never poached an egg convincingly, I don’t have the engineering project management qualifications required to get sourdough off the ground, and I’m abysmal at making coffee. Working a Friday rush when a customer would order a round of espresso martinis, perhaps not realising that this involved grinding everything to a halt and preparing each individual coffee shot with maddening torpor — was a particularly piquant slice of hell. When I was promoted to running a cocktail bar that resolutely didn’t have a coffee machine, we cleverly used cold brew instead in our espresso martinis — most effectively — and with this new relaxed approach I could finally appreciate the cocktail.

Coffee plus alcohol, up plus down, like an infinite chevron of possibilities, the espresso martini is easy to write off as the un-elevated drink of a frivolous mind, but look: they’re delicious. They bear booze, they offer caffeine. Your other option is what, a vodka Red Bull? Grow up! Having gone so far into the extreme with my vodka disdain that the only option was to swing right back and enthusiastically embrace it again, I nevertheless have to say the vodka is little more than a glorious carrier of flavour molecules here. But somehow it still tastes like the right spirit, even with — or perhaps because of — the absence of discernible taste. Aficionados may notice the lack of coffee liqueur, but I argue vehemently that Kahlua isn’t adding anything that the coffee, vodka and syrup themselves aren’t already capable of. It’s like watching a play with the star acting and the understudy behind them marking the blocking, and I won’t be talked out of this stance.

Anyway, let’s get to the part that justifies the existence of this blog post! Although espresso martinis don’t need the slightest adulteration I’ve nevertheless granted myself remit to ignore that by adding homemade gingerbread syrup to lend a kind of seasonal air (and it’s so hard to describe it thusly without sounding like you’re blasting a tshirt gun full of SEO buzzwords into a crowd). Gingerbread, mind you, not ginger, which is why you’ll see the quantity of dried ginger is fairly minuscule. The first time I tested this I used two hearty teaspoons and the syrup tasted like blunt force inhaling a canister of black pepper directly to the tenderest parts of my throat. Next time around I modest-ified the ginger and increased the cinnamon and vanilla; after all, gingerbread is as much suggested by the ingredients surrounding the ginger as it is by the title ingredient itself. Although making a syrup first is a bit of a pain, this leaps together quickly in your saucepan and makes enough to service several rounds of drinks. It also makes your house smell like a shop that sells expensive seasonal candles in the process, which is motivation enough for me.

Also in very small quantities, the molasses gives a dark sweetness to bridge that divide between the coffee and vodka and its earthy, bitter qualities dovetail with those of the coffee. Meanwhile, the soft cinnamon and citrussy ginger flavour is fluttery yet deep, pointing up and inviting to dance any remaining complexities hiding in your espresso. A decent splash of vanilla and a faint pinch of salt grounds and mellows the sweetness — don’t be tempted to leave them out. Despite being shaken over ice, this cocktail has a gentle warmth that suggests twinkling lights and the welcome voice of Bing Crosby expounding on the subject of snow, which evokes being wrapped in a duvet by the fireside while somehow still lending sophistication. It would be an ideal Christmas function (or Christmas morning) cocktail, and yet, it wouldn’t be out of place at any time of year when there’s even the slightest chill on the edges of the air.

In the mood to make more cocktails? I suggest my Final Scene (incredible but honestly very expensive), and my Queen’s Peach (significantly more achievable).

Gingerbread Espresso Martini

A small but twinkly twist on this modern classic cocktail. This gingerbread syrup is quick to make with just a hint of ginger surrounded by warm cinnamon and vanilla, and will sort you for several rounds of cocktails. If you don’t live near a coffee shop, pre-made cold brew is a perfect substitute for espresso. Recipe by myself, though I can’t imagine I’m the first to think of it.

Gingerbread Syrup

• 3/4 cup brown sugar
• 3/4 cup water
• 1 teaspoon molasses
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 2 cinnamon sticks
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1/4 teaspoon salt, or to taste

Gingerbread Espresso Martini

• 45ml (1.5oz or 1 and 1/2 shots) vodka
• 15ml (1/2oz or 1/2 a shot) gingerbread syrup
• 30ml (1 x standard double or 1 shot) espresso
• Fresh ice, for shaking

1: Obviously, first comes the syrup. In a saucepan, bring the 3/4 cup each of brown sugar and water, the teaspoon of molasses, the 1/4 teaspoon of ground ginger and the two cinnamon sticks just to the boil, stirring occasionally. The second that robust bubbles start to form, turn the heat down as low as you can and let it simmer, stirring, for about two minutes. Remove from the heat, stir in the two teaspoons of vanilla and the 1/4 teaspoon of salt, and let cool down somewhat. I leave the cinnamon sticks bumping around in there to extract the maximum flavour, but you can discard them if you wish. The syrup will thicken as it cools, and makes around 3/4.

2: When you’re ready to make your espresso martini, pour the 45ml vodka, 15ml cooled gingerbread syrup, and espresso double shot into a cocktail shaker or clean jar. Fill the shaker or jar with ice, pop the top or lid on it, and shake vigorously — this aeration is what gives us that frothy two-tone crema effect so don’t hold back.

3: Strain the contents of the shaker or jar into a chilled martini or coupe glass. Drink immediately and store any leftover syrup in a container in the fridge. Makes 1.

Notes:

• Rum or spiced rum would both be grand here.
• Two espresso martinis fit quite comfortably in a shaker, any more than that and they need to wait their turn.
• Add more syrup if you favour a sweeter drink
• You’re also welcome to increase the salt in the syrup
• The leftover syrup can of course make more cocktails, but feel free to add it to your iced coffees for a non-alc take.

music lately:

Gloria: In Excelsis Deo by Patti Smith. It’s an obvious song but still! The way those opening chords sneak up on you menacingly yet invitingly! The second she says “Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine” I suddenly feel not only capable of great mischief but also impelled by a force greater than my own free will! Should I steal a horse and gallop it the length of the country throwing a cloud of crisp banknotes into the air periodically? Don’t listen to it unless you’re ready to be confronted by such questions!

It’s Different For Girls by Joe Jackson. I took a minute to warm up to this downbeat song but that figure-8 second chorus is wildly enchanting, I could listen to it on loop for quite some time.

And I am Telling You I’m Not Going by Jennifer Holliday, as sung at the 1998 My Favourite Broadway concert. The way she performs this with such wit yet SUCH storytelling — the way the sound flows through her so effortlessly in the first verse at a level that most people would be madly straining to achieve — and then that BUILD on the “you’re gonna love me, love me, love me” part towards the end that always makes me cry. Singular, iconic, incredible, and it will never be anyone else’s song.