Despite the fact that we spend hours and hours obsessively scanning obscure publications like Inside Higher Education and painfully low-quality dailies like The Daily Princetonian for any mention of the Ivy League which could supply us with a post, no matter how tenuous or irrelevant (thanks, Chris and Nick -- you guys are the best), somehow we missed this incredible article which ran in the WSJ about a month ago.

The WSJ dispatched their spirits critic (yes, the WSJ has a spirits critic) to write a column on drinks named after schools from the Ivy League. The result is a cool, complex mix of colorful reportage and incisive comment that goes down easy yet leaves one shaken. The author begins with a story surely familiar in one form or another to many denizens of the LES:

The bartender knew the times were changing when some Ivy League toffs wandered in: "You'll think I'm kidding," the saloon-keeper told Delaplane, "but I got an order couple nights for a Yale Cocktail!"

Yale wasn't the only Ivy with a cocktail to its name. Depending on the Bartender's Guide the saloon-keeper bought, he likely would also have found cocktail recipes immortalizing Harvard, Princeton, Cornell, Columbia and Brown (Dartmouth and the University of Pennsylvania seem to have missed out when the collegiate cocktails were being named). Sadly, these drinks have been all but forgotten, and in the rare instance where one persists -- the Yale -- the cocktail has become a parody of its former self."

Imagine that: Yale a parody of itself. The problem with the Yale Cocktail, opines the author in vaguely racist undertones, is that its once signature constituent, Crème Yvette, an exotic, expensive European liqueur "flavored with violet petals, vanilla, and spices," has been replaced by blue curacao. The Yale Cocktail has lost its "subtle taste and elegant dignity (a status impossible for any drink that relies on blue curaçao)." Yeah, we know what you really mean.

The author writes of the Harvard Cocktail, "It is as delicious as it is aristocratic," and he calls the Princeton Cocktail,"one of the most appalling concoctions ever devised." Cornell gets mentioned a couple times in parentheses.

After the jump -- the full article.

In a League of Their Own:
The Ivy League, That Is

By ERIC FELTEN
September 8, 2007; Page P5

In the late 1950s, the San Francisco waterfront was still a pretty rough-and-tumble place, with a scrum of scruffy warehouses crowded along (the wrong side of) the railroad tracks. But in 1960 came a wave of gentrification, driven by importers eager to turn those warehouses into direct-selling showrooms catering to the "mink-and-Cadillac trade." The transformation there -- where longshoremen had taken to the ramparts in the labor wars of the 1930s -- was felt most acutely by the men tending bar in the neighborhood's saloons.

"I hadda go out and buy a 'Bartender's Guide,' " the man behind the stick in one joint complained to newspaper columnist Stanton Delaplane. Before the carriage trade turned up, he said, "the only orders I had in here for 20 years is just two -- either single or double shots." The longshoremen and sailors slugged their gin straight, free from vermouth. The bartender knew the times were changing when some Ivy League toffs wandered in: "You'll think I'm kidding," the saloon-keeper told Delaplane, "but I got an order couple nights for a Yale Cocktail!"

PRINCETON COCKTAIL

 

1½ oz gin
½ oz (ruby) port
2 dashes orange bitters

Shake the gin and bitters with ice and strain into a stemmed cocktail glass. Gently add the port, allowing it to settle in under the gin. Garnish with a twist of lemon.

HARVARD COCKTAIL

 

1½ oz cognac
½ oz sweet (red) vermouth
dash of Angostura bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a stemmed cocktail glass. Garnish with a twist of lemon. Traditionally the Harvard was made with equal parts brandy and vermouth, but I like it better at this 3:1 ratio.

Yale wasn't the only Ivy with a cocktail to its name. Depending on the Bartender's Guide the saloon-keeper bought, he likely would also have found cocktail recipes immortalizing Harvard, Princeton, Cornell, Columbia and Brown (Dartmouth and the University of Pennsylvania seem to have missed out when the collegiate cocktails were being named). Sadly, these drinks have been all but forgotten, and in the rare instance where one persists -- the Yale -- the cocktail has become a parody of its former self.

Cocktail books of the '30s and '40s record many variations on the Yale theme. There's a Yale Cocktail made of gin, orange bitters and Angostura. There's one that calls for gin, dry vermouth, orange bitters and a dash of the sweet, colorless cherry liqueur called Maraschino; another uses sweet Old Tom gin and sweet vermouth. But go to the Yale Club in New York these days and ask for a Yale Cocktail and you will get a drink of gin, dry vermouth and (in honor of the university's colors) blue curaçao.

I'm not a fan of curaçao that is blue -- an unnatural hue for an orange liqueur. And as it turns out, the blue curaçao is just an unfortunate substitute for a long-defunct ingredient. The bluish Yale Cocktail once got its color from Crème Yvette, a liqueur flavored with violet petals, vanilla and spices. Happily, there is at last an acceptable substitute. Among the Austrian liqueurs being imported by Haus Alpenz is a crème de violette that restores the Yale Cocktail to a place of subtle taste and elegant dignity (a status impossible for any drink that relies on blue curaçao). Let's hope they lay in a bottle at the Yale Club.

And what of the Bulldogs' rivals? I asked bartenders at the Harvard Clubs in New York and Boston whether they had ever been asked for a Harvard Cocktail. None even knew such a drink existed. Which is a shame, because the Harvard is a fine, sophisticated drink that should have a wide following among alums. The drink was once well-enough established to be honored with its own entry in the 1925 "Standard Encyclopedia of the Alcohol Problem." Made with equal parts cognac and sweet vermouth, with a dash of Angostura bitters, the drink is a sort of brandy Manhattan. Increase the cognac quotient to three times the vermouth and you have a drink also known, over the years, as a Metropolitan Cocktail. It is as delicious as it is aristocratic.

The Harvard Faculty Club in Cambridge has created a drink worthy of longshoremen -- a glass of straight iced gin they call a Harvard Yard. For tradition's sake, they might want to consider, instead, another drink named after the university, a tasty refresher called the Harvard Cooler -- apple brandy, lime juice, sugar and soda water, on the rocks in a highball glass.

Sebastian Serino has been tending bar for years at New York's Princeton Club. Asked about the Princeton Cocktail, he laughs. "Last time I can remember making one I didn't have gray hair." No wonder: A dry gin Martini with a squeeze of lime juice, it is one of the most appalling concoctions ever devised. (A close competitor is the Cornell Special -- gin, Benedictine and lemon juice.)

But the good news for Princetonians is that the other cocktail named after the school is a mix of gin, port and orange bitters, and it is surprisingly good. The gin leavens the sweetness of the port, letting the signature nuttiness of the fortified wine come through. You can shake all the ingredients together, but I think the best way the drink has been made is the two-tone approach: Shake the gin and bitters with ice, and strain into a cocktail glass; then gently pour in the port, allowing it to settle in the bottom of the glass. On top goes a twist of lemon peel.

With football season upon us, one has to admit the Ivies are unlikely to ever regain their gridiron bona fides. (P.J. O'Rourke watched the Harvard football team in action a few years ago and wondered if the Radcliffe women's chorus had found its way onto the field.) But when it comes to drinks, the alumni have a taste of those glory days within their grasp. Ten thousand men of Harvard may want vict'ry today, but they'll have to settle for a decent cocktail.