When I was a kid, you’d often see pictures of Uncle Sam — the top-hatted, white-goateed stand-in for the U.S. federal government. Independence Day has long been my favorite holiday (it meant family, grilling, and homemade ice cream), so it’s natural that I also gravitated to Uncle Sam (the name helped, too). I thought he looked cool and, as a very poor kid, wanted the ability to dress in a nice suit and top hat, even if a star-spangled one. As I became a professor of political science, my niece and nephew loved pointing out that they had an “Uncle Sam,” who appropriately studied government. It makes a great Halloween costume as well… but I digress.

This week’s cocktail celebrates an underrated and maligned act of public service — paying one’s taxes. April 15th approaches, and, in the United States, that is tax day. Or more appropriately, it is the deadline for paying your taxes if you are not a billionaire or if you are bereft of an “extension.” Congress had already tried to instigate an income tax in the 1890s — an attempt that was struck down by the Supreme Court. The key contention was that Congress couldn’t levy a direct tax not apportioned by population. The 16th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution eliminated this challenge and established the income tax as a fixture of American politics and life. It originally targeted high earners, but that targeting is long gone today. Our two world wars helped establish a mass-based tax system. The Revenue Act of 1942 introduced the payroll deduction.

The Income Tax cocktail is very likely a pre-Prohibition drink, though the earliest printed recipe seems to be the Savoy Cocktail Book by Harry Craddock. It is a variation on a Bronx cocktail, which is the same spec, but without the bitters, and seems to have been a 1920s speakeasy favorite. The Bronx cocktail dates to the turn of the century at the latest, so I’d imagine that the Income Tax was around long before the 1920s. It is unique in mixology as a cocktail that centers on orange juice as the citrus component. Most professional bartenders don’t care for orange as it is hard to get enough acid in an orange to balance the drink — that’s why this role is played most often by lemon and lime. Today, globalization and access to ingredients mean orange juice is easily acid-adjusted and can be used just like lemon or lime juice. As you’ll see below, the Income Tax is also an incredibly versatile cocktail in terms of technique. In other words, the drink is a lot more flexible than the income tax or your April 15th obligations, or opportunity, should you derive satisfaction from your civic duty.

Let’s tip one. 

Chill your glass thoroughly. We have citrus, so the original (above) is a shaken cocktail. Load a tin with the ingredients, sans garnish. Then, load the other half with ice and shake in the age-old way. Fine-strain the drink into your glass, garnish, and enjoy.

For the egg white version (below left), simply add the egg white when adding the other ingredients. Instead of adding ice, give this a good, long, dry shake, say 20-30 counts. Then add ice and shake as usual. Fine-strain into your glass, garnish, and enjoy.

For the milk clarified version (below right), add your ingredients to a mixing glass, sans garnish. To another glass, add the milk (whichever version you use). This will work much better if the milk is at room temperature. Add the cocktail to the milk, NOT the other way around. Allow this to sit for 30–45 minutes. Afterward, I always find that my cocktail clarifies best after it rests in the refrigerator until well-chilled, say, 1 hour or so. As I mentioned when discussing the Sidecar, I then filter the cocktail using a Chemex and a double paper filter. One small detail, dampen your filter before filtering the cocktail. Otherwise, the filter extracts a “tax” on your final drink volume. Once the cocktail has re-chilled in the refrigerator, you can give it a quick stir with ice, or simply pour it into your glass, garnish, and enjoy surviving another tax season.

Glass: Coupe or Nick and Nora 

I’ve already covered several technique-based options above. One small tweak makes this an older, different cocktail — removing the bitters makes the Bronx.

In the recipes above, I did NOT acid-adjust the orange juice. I wanted to sample the original as it was made back then. However, most craft cocktail mixologists and bartenders today would acid-adjust the orange juice to approximate the acidity of lime. I’ll do that one day and explain it. But suffice it to say, there is plenty of advice online for doing just this. If I were to make this drink again, I might jettison both the dry and sweet vermouths in favor of Lillet Blanc, for which I have a strong affinity (I’ll even enjoy it over ice). Cocchi Americano would also be interesting. Try them and let me know what you think.

For today, let’s not make this drink any more stressful than the U.S. tax system. Good luck doing your civic duty out there, and remember, we must all hang together or we shall assuredly all hang separately.

This blog is, as ever, an opinionated take on drinks.

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