The Chicagoist will be launching later but in the meantime please enjoy our archives.

Properly Sauced: Cuban Apricot

By Rob Christopher in Food on May 9, 2012 5:40PM

2012_5_9havanaclub2.jpg We'd always thought that duty-free shops at airports were strictly for suckers. That is, until we spied some Cuban rum at Charles De Gaulle on our way back to Chicago.

The United States' embargo against Cuba, initiated in 1959 and in place (with tiny interruptions) ever since, has had numerous melancholy ramifications. Culturally, especially in regards to music and film, the decades-long black hole has been most unfortunate. (Thank goodness for people like David Byrne and Ry Cooder, who have found ways to work around it.) And yes, people miss the cigars. But what Americans have really been missing out on is Cuban rum.

Specifically Havana Club rum. While the US stakes out its lonely spot (indeed, the UN General Assembly has been urging an end to the embargo for 20 consecutive years) the rest of the world is thoroughly enjoying this Cuban spirit, made in Santa Cruz del Norte.

That includes Canada, where Havana Club is widely available, and Europe. Technically, an American is not allowed to purchase or consume Havana Club even while abroad. Therefore, we do not sanction either visiting our neighbor to north to sample some or heading to Prescription Cocktail Club in Paris and ordering a Very Old Cuban. It's theoretically possible that the Office of Foreign Assets Control could bust you.

But a curious tippler might very well wonder what this forbidden substance tastes like, specifically the Añejo Especial. There's an album by George Shearing from 1958 called Burnished Brass; some have said that how that album sounds is how this rum tastes. They say it's golden in color, rich, smooth, and mellow. Our sources tell us that it's a solid sipper with a dry finish that (naturally) is also great in cocktails. Especially the Cuban Apricot, a drink we first became acquainted with via the liner notes for the great Ultralounge compliation Cha-Cha de Amour . We've rejiggered the recipe somewhat to tone down the sweetness.

Cuban Apricot

1 oz. Havana Club Añejo Especial rum
1 oz. apricot brandy
.5 oz. lime juice
.5 oz. grapefruit juice
.25 oz. simple syrup

Shake well with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

So, what to do if you don't have a bottle of Cuban rum handy? Matusalem rums, either the Clasico or especially the Gran Reserva, substitute in very well; they're so-called Cuban-style rums blended and bottled in the Dominican Republic.

Now, we're guessing that there must be a few rum devotees in Chicago who have a bottle or two of Cuban rum stashed away somewhere. We have no idea who they might be, but why not make friends with that rum-loving bartender down the street - who knows what they might have stashed under the counter?