Here is free medical advice from a doctor of journalism: When your loved ones who are either elderly or very young get ill in a very sudden way that seems like three or four ailments at once – weak, fatigued, achy, confused – first, see if they’ve been reading this column. Second, though, see if they can swallow a glass or two of Gatorade. (The fact that you’ve consulted real medical professionals by this point should go without saying.) But dehydration can sneak up on any of us, especially this time of year, and it can be amazing how big a difference a bit of water with a dash of salt can make to a person’s body and brain, and how quickly a scary moment might pass with the simplest of interventions: Sip this.
Water, of course, is what our bodies consist of, for the most part – but specifically, it’s salt water. Darwin and Genesis agree on this point: We creatures of Earth are descended from the ocean, and few are more ocean-descended than coastal Floridians. Salt was currency for the ancient Romans, who gave us the word “salary” to describe how much salt a person earned from the sweat of their brow. But it’s that sweat that we think of as making someone “the salt of the earth,” one of the honest, dependable folks who give life its flavor. In alchemy, salt represents the body, especially the part of the body that might survive death. In most magical traditions, salt is a purifying agent, turning away corruption and rot and transforming old cucumbers into pickles, old cabbage into kimchi.
The oldest cocktail recipes consist of spirits, sugar, bitters, and lemon with a dash or two of water. But as anyone in the food and beverage industry knows, those sweet, bitter, and sour flavors won’t play together nicely without at least a subtle pinch of salt. If you’re on a sodium-restricted diet, perhaps consider how common it is for someone in the diner kitchen to sprinkle a practically subliminal amount of salt into the coffee just to make it taste a little livelier. Bottled-water purveyors do it, too. And the bartenders of metro Miami?
Let the little kids chug their super-sweet Kool-Aid. For the seasoned Biscayne tippler, a bit of salt is what makes the medicine go down.
OLD SALTS, NEW SALTS
The salty rim of a margarita glass is probably where most drinkers’ minds will go first, and why not? For a few years, modding the salty margarita rim has become an art form unto itself, with bartenders trying out everything from tajin to Cajun seasoning salt. One of the most interesting is hibiscus salt, which uses roughly equal parts tart, dried hibiscus flowers (sold as sorrel in Caribbean groceries), sugar, and salt ground together into a purple-scarlet powder that hits a lot of ways at once.
But at Cleo, the new Eastern Mediterranean place in the Balfour in Miami Beach’s South of Fifth neighborhood, that interesting rim takes a twist. Of course, the restaurant is helmed by French Laundry veteran Chef Camila Olarte, so twists are there to be savored. There is a Sorrel Margarita that mixes a hibiscus-based cordial with tequila, lime, crema de mezcal, and coriander bitters in a glass rimmed with … a pink peppercorn tajin. It’s another cocktail offering, the Sumac Cosmo, that amps up the tartness with hibiscus tea, sumac cordial, and a pinch of hibiscus salt.
Thus fortified, it’s possible to find more salted cocktails further afield.
(Photo by Douglas Friedman)
The bar at Dirty French Steakhouse is where Nightstands are made… and a collection of martinis as well as other classic cocktails.
On Brickell and SE 11th, slip into the Côte d’Azur-inspired Claudie and sip on drinks named for creators who frequented the French Mediterranean, like Colette, Picabia, Matisse, and Hemingway. The salacious standout here is Vergé's Garden, named for Chef Roger Vergé. This is a savory, garden-fresh cocktail made with Plymouth gin, sotol (a Mexican spirit distilled from an agave relative), and a homemade cheese liqueur, mixed with tomato-gooseberry water and floated with oils of basil and smoked pepper. Despite what you might think from that description, it pours as clear as gin; it only tastes like spring in the herb garden.
(Photo by Ruben Cabrera)
Vergé's Garden at Claudie is a fresh, herb-forward drink made with, among other things, homemade cheese liqueur and tomato-gooseberry water.
Three doors down and across the street, the Dirty French Steakhouse is, despite the name, filled with American opulence, like prime aged steaks and East Coast oysters. There’s a martini menu (with a Vesper, for all you would-be James Bonds). And there’s The Nightstand.
“The Nightstand is a variation of a mezcal sour,” said Nathan O’Neill, Head of Bars at Major Food Group. “We took chipotle peppers that had been dried for an extended period and infused them as a tea into raw, local honey, creating a deep, rich flavor with hints of red fruit and spice. The cocktail is finished with an Aleppo salt rim — Aleppo is a beautiful pepper that, when ground, adds a subtle note of spice, tomato, and citrus, elevating the cocktail and allowing the flavors to really pop.”
STAY SALTY
It may be that the most popular salty cocktail isn’t the rimmed margarita, but the Bloody Mary, the celery-stalked starlet of a billion brunches. It is a strange thing that drinking is frowned upon at breakfast and looked at askance during lunch time, but celebrated at the non-meal that takes place between the two. Bloody Mary (and her virgin sister) might even be joined by their cousins, bellini and mimosa.
Brunch has become a special interest of Phuc Yea, MiMo’s very social, Michelin-recognized Asian-Latin fusion spot this summer. For one thing, they’re offering a “Local Love” perk for anyone presenting an ID from their local ZIP codes (33137 and 33138). Their summer brunch menu features items like Biscuit Banh Mi Breakfast Sandwiches, Sancocho Pho (a slow-cooked Colombian-Vietnamese combo), and tropical-fruit mimosas dubbed (of course) Tropi-mosas. Saltier stuff starts to kick in around their Tini-&-a-Snack menu that pairs Asian-inflected classic martinis (think infusions of yuzu or lemongrass and let your mind wander from there) with nibbles like wasabi peas.
(Courtesy Mad Phucs Hospitality)
Ani Meinhold of Phuc Yea says the Say Gay has layers of flavors.
But it’s a cocktail on their regular menu that gets really intriguing. The Say Gay (ask them about the name; they’d love to talk about it) is what they’re calling a “mezcalita” but one that’s been through a few layers of changes. The main spirit is a smoky mezcal, which is mixed with passion fruit (OK), red bell pepper (really?), birds-eye chili pepper (oh, really??), which is all smoothed over with a dollop of dulce de leche (!?!).
(Courtesy @PhucYea)
The Say Gay at Phuc Yea in MiMo is a little bit of everything at once: tart, fruity, smoky, spicy, and, thanks to dulce de leche, sweet and salty too.
Phuc Yea co-founder Ani Meinhold said, “Each sip is layered — sweet, spicy, smoky, salty, and savory. The saltiness comes from both the salted rim, plus the fact that we salt all of our cocktails in order to heighten all of the flavors.”
There’s a lot going on in that glass. Still, you’ve got to keep your strength up – and your electrolyte levels.
THE NIGHTSTAND AT HOME
(Courtesy Major Food Group)
The Nightstand comes to life with chipotle-infused honey and Aleppo pepper salt.
1 1/2 oz Su Casa mezcal
3/4 oz lemon juice
1/2 oz Heirloom Genepy liqueur
1/2 oz Lillet
3/4 oz chipotle honey
Make the chipotle honey:
Combine 50g adobo-dried chiles with 1liter hot water. Blend and strain to remove all sediment.
Top up with additional hot water until you have a full liter of liquid.
Mix chile-infused water with 1 liter honey.
Label the mixture “Chipotle Honey,” bottle, and refrigerate. It will keep for up to 4 weeks.
Assemble the cocktail:
Prepare glass with Aleppo pepper salt rim.
Combine ingredients in shaker, shake thoroughly, strain over ice into the prepared glass.
Garnish with an orange slice on the rim.
Grant Balfour is a Miami Beach native, writer, editor, traveler, musician, bon vivant and our official Biscayne Tippler
