Açai juice and cardamom combine to create Purple Rain

When it comes to mixing drinks, I usually stick to recipes, only taking risks in the interest of fixing something. Too sour? Add a splash of Sprite. Too bland? A dash of bitters. But there are people out there, the equivalent of chefs, who actually create new drinks. Recently, I put myself among them. The reason was simple: I wanted to write about a cocktail using açai juice but couldn’t find one in St. Louis. Açai (pronounced ah SIGH ee) is a purplish-black berry from a species of palm that grows in South America, and it’s known for having high levels of antioxidants. The juice is popular in smoothies, and it’s becoming a popular mixer in bars, too – just not here (yet). So, a friend, Dan Rouse, and I set out to create our own cocktail. I had purchased two brands of açai juice from Whole Foods Market: Sambazon and Bossa Nova. Both are mixed with agave nectar and other ingredients, but they were the closest I found to pure açai. Sambazon had a smoothie-like consistency and a sweeter, more palatable flavor than Bossa Nova, which was more juice-like, with a clear, dark-purple appearance and a briny flavor that reminded me of olive juice. We spread the contents of my liquor cabinet out on the dining room table and the mixing began. I’d already tried Sailor Jerry Spiced Navy Rum and Sambazon because I’d found the combination mentioned on another açai juice company’s Web site; it didn’t work, so we skipped that. Instead, we mixed Bossa Nova, gin and grenadine. We couldn’t decide if that was good or not. Without the grenadine and with a bit of dry vermouth, the mix tasted like a dirty martini (thanks to the olive taste from the Bossa Nova), but we weren’t impressed. After 20 experiments produced nothing we loved, I began to worry, but, finally, we found three combinations we liked. The first, Skyy Vanilla vodka and Sambazon, tasted like cake batter, according to another friend, Terry Smith, who dropped by to sample the results. Then we had plain vodka, tonic and Bossa Nova, which our drop-in taster compared to a blueberry Hostess Fruit Pie. But it was our third creation, which didn’t taste like anything we’d ever had before and couldn’t easily be transformed into a cheesy shot, that we were most enamored with. I had mixed Jack Daniels with Bossa Nova, and my mixing partner didn’t want to try it because he doesn’t like Jack. But I thought it was pretty good, so he took a sip. Then he suggested we check out my spice cabinet. Cardamom, a spice used in Indian and Middle Eastern cooking, came to mind – for no particular reason – so we added a pinch to the drink. And that turned out to be a very good choice. We decided the drink should be served up, chilled and in a martini glass. The only downside was that the ground cardamom accumulated at the bottom of the glass, making the last sip unpleasant – the solution would be to infuse the whiskey with cardamom. The cocktail was easy to drink, despite being half whiskey and unusual. When we gave our taster the Jack Daniels/Bossa Nova/cardamom mix, he said, “I’ve never had anything like this in my life” and noted that he might be witnessing “the evolution of the drink.” I don’t know if I’d go that far, but we did manage to create something unique. Just to be sure we had it right, we substituted Jameson Irish whiskey – which we all prefer in general – for the Jack, but the drink seemed weak, less complex and not as good. We tried to name our drink that night, but it turned out naming a drink was actually more difficult than creating one. Finally, we decided to go with Purple Rain, because the drink is a very dark purple, and I had been listening to Prince songs recently. If creating a drink is an inexact science, then naming one is even more so.