I made this drink for an Obscure Holiday Cocktails gathering, and it was absolutely not the disaster I was afraid it might be. It was, in fact, perfectly appropriate: it is obscure, it has a name that is reminiscent of winter and holidays, it includes all the alcohol. But I would argue that it doesn’t need to be reserved just for Christmas-time.

I remember when I first moved to Montreal after college. It was June and whenever the subject of winter would come up, people would say something along the lines of, Oh, but February is the WORST.

February is not actually the coldest month, in Montreal or here. January is the coldest. February is the month that is almost as cold as January, when you’ve already been a sport about January, and it’s been dark for a long time, and you’ve gotten sick of your long underwear, and wearing boots everywhere, and it’s going to be at least April before you have any real shot of spring, but probably May.

This again.

So here we are, early in January, and we have January and February and March ahead of us. We also have a snowstorm forecasted for tomorrow. This, my friends, is the time for cocktails like Whispers of the Frost.

Whispers of the Frost
Courtesy of Old Mr. Boston De Luxe Official Bartender’s Guide (which reinforces the “de luxe” with a red leather cover and glossy gold lettering)

3/4 oz. Old Mr. Boston Whiskey (No, I did not use Old Mr. Boston Whiskey. I used Maker’s Mark)
3/4 oz. Sherry Wine
3/4 oz. Ruby Port
1 teaspoon powdered sugar

Shake well with cracked ice and strain into a 3 oz. cocktail glass. Serve with slices of lemon and orange.

It was surprisingly good. I think it would be worth trying it warm, too, with the lemon and orange slices heated up along with the drink, sort of like mulled wine.

S. from Edible Obsessions put together cheese pairings for the Obscure Holiday Cocktail get together, and Whispers of the Frost and I got paired up with Bayley Hazen Blue, a raw cow milk cheese produced by Jasper Hill Farms in Greensboro VT. It was a brilliant pairing. Also, S. tells me that the cheese is named after Bayley Hazen Road that was commissioned by Washington during the Revolutionary War, which is neither here nor there, but not a bad thing to say when there’s an awkward lull in conversation as you shovel cheese into your mouth.

And look at that, I just got you halfway to a party right there.