Health-wise the fruit is full of good things and is now grown commercially anywhere that’s warm and wet. There are said to be 500 varieties: smaller and larger, greenish-yellow, brownish-purple, more disease resistant or distinctly vulnerable, self-pollinating or not. The flesh may be green or pink, though compared with the seeds – 250 per fruit – there isn’t much of it. The juice is pink or apricot colour, cloudy, and a pain to extract. Hence except in places like Brazil, it has always been used mainly in the form of commercially extracted syrups or mixes thereof. It makes marvellous ice cream. And great cocktails…

The taste’s the thing. Modestly acidic and aromatic but with the damper peddle firmly depressed: a benign influence not a takeover bid. No hint of kerosene either, unlike most tropical fruits. As you might expect, passion fruit juice or syrup works especially well with Rum of all kinds and Tequila, but also with Gin and Calvados – which you might not. It adds indefinable complexity to fruit liqueurs and is a wow with Advocaat.

And it works brilliantly with all bubbly, but especially those incorporating Chardonnay: giving a twist to the bouquet and a well-mannered fruity edge to the palate. 

Pause and Restart

With all this going for it, you might expect the passion fruit to feature prominently in classic cocktails. As much as limes anyway. And the fact is, circa 1930 it did enjoy a brief heyday as a fashionable ingredient. To be exact, a fashionable British cocktail ingredient.

At the time we had a shaky economy and a malnourished population. No change there then, but we also ruled half the world.  So, when the coalition government of the day decided to sponsor an Eat More Fruit campaign, it inevitably looked to the products of the British Empire to supply us with vitamins at all seasons. Not that cocktails were perceived as health drinks, but they hooked onto the bandwagon anyway. Passion fruit was an exotic new taste that the Americans had never done. Unlike then-trendy grapefruit, of which the US had a virtual monopoly.

Alas, that was as good as it got for passion fruit in cocktails. Increasing austerity brought the end of government fruit advertising.  Disease swept our plantations. WW2 demanded sterner use of shipping resources. The passionate new taste rapidly became a forgotten taste. Only now is it being generally rediscovered.  In deserts, breakfast smoothies – and cocktails, which passion fruit takes into wholly new and seductive territory.

Passion fruit syrup is widely available.  To make the recipes here I used the excellent Tresseire brand, which is apricot colour, so for a pink drink you may need a dash of grenadine.

PASSIONATE STRANGER

10 ml Golden Rum
20 ml Advocaat
10 ml Passion fruit syrup
60 ml Bubbly (to fill)
Garnish: red flower on rim

Shake non-sparkling ingredients hard with ice, strain into flute glass, add bubbly, stir

QUE PASA HOMBRE?

90 ml Cava or Prosecco
10 ml Gin
10 ml Passion fruit syrup
½ Teaspoon Angostura
½ Teaspoon Grenadine
Garnish: thick orange wheel stuck with three cloves

Make as above.

FOREVER ANA

30 ml Passion fruit syrup
12 ml Calvados
¼ Teaspoon orange bitters
½ Teaspoon grenadine (opt’l)
1 Dash Angostura
60 ml Bubbly (to fill)
Garnish: mint sprig

Make as above.

Alas, no and no. The only pink bubbly that even half works in cocktails is the ultra palest. Which no one in their right minds would darken, or mix. And as for red fruits, their juice mostly emerges just about colourless, also cloudy. And with modern soft fruit, almost tasteless too. Hence muddling fruit at the bottom of the shaker, so popular among bartenders a few years ago, was always more ‘stage business’ than a contribution to the colour and taste of the drink.

The real reason why there are so few red sparkling cocktails is that creating them is so very difficult. For a start, drinkers expect any cocktail made with Champagne (particularly) to taste of Champagne. But bubbly isn’t water-white: so when you add other ingredients the mix veers towards brown, or worse.

The upshot is that the only famous red sparkling (Champagne) cocktail is the Alfonso, where the colour comes from Dubonnet. The original recipe is without Brandy, but it’s better with some, I think. But pink or white bubbly makes no difference to the colour. As for Buck’s Fizz – yes, you can make it with blood orange juice. The result will look like bubbling liquid rust and with normal orange and pink bubbly, the outcome is just tawnier orange.

Best of the red stuff

In fact, the only effective way to make red sparkling cocktails is with grenadine syrup or a dark red liqueur. Or, usually, both. Grenadine became a universal cocktail standby because it adds sweetness balanced with acidity, colour and a fruity taste that’s neutral. That’s genuine pomegranate-and-sugar grenadine I’m meaning. If you can’t be bothered to make it yourself, look for ‘Pomegranate Molasses’, which is very dark and acidic but dry, not sweet. Sweeten up some of it with simple syrup and keep the rest as is… Large Sainsbury’s have it, and doubtless other stores too.

As for red liqueurs, the neutral alcohol-based French crèmes do nothing but spoil sparkling cocktails. The ones that will work are Cherry Brandy and Sloe Gin or Damson Gin. Look for brands with more than 20 degrees of alcohol. Thus, among the CBs, Grants, Heering, and Boudier, which all have a nutty background that not only harmonises with grape tastes, but adds weight and complexity to a cocktail.

Sloe Gin, made from wild plums, is likewise excellent in cocktails – a touch of it boosting other fruit flavours without denaturing them. It seems to work in the same way with sparkling wine. In other words, a little goes a long way, so the SG needs to be good and dark, and neither too vegetal or Ginny. Plymouth’s and Heyman’s are both very well balanced in these respects, Wilkinson’s a fraction pale – but nothing a touch of pomegranate molasses won’t fix. Damson Gin is more obviously plummy in taste than sloe, and more purple in colour. Also a lot harder to find. The Wilkinson’s version is commendable.

Of other red fruit liqueurs, Crème de Mure is a favourite with some great mixologists. But brand styles vary widely, possibly because ‘Mure’ can mean either mulberry or blackberry. In any case, you get the same colour and taste effects with good grenadine.

RED KING
In a shaker with ice
15 ml Cherry Brandy
10 ml Brandy
1 Teaspoon dry grenadine syrup
½ Teaspoon Benedictine
Shake and strain into flute glass
Fill with bubbly, stir
Garnish: orange slice

APPLEWING
In a shaker with ice
20 ml Calvados
10 ml Grenadine syrup
5 ml Grenadine molasses (dry)
2 Teaspoons Ice Cider/ Pommeau/ Pommona
Shake and strain into flute glass
Fill with bubbly, stir
Garnish: cherry

BORDER BLUSH
In a shaker with ice
30 ml Cherry Brandy or Damson Gin
20 ml Tequila Blanco
5 ml Kirsch
5 ml Grenadine molasses (dry)
Shake and strain into flute glass
Fill with bubbly, stir
Garnish: orange twist – which makes a
major contribution to the taste

Especially where Champagne is used, the problem is people expect to taste it. Now that isn’t the case with ‘ordinary’ cocktails if they’re classic in form. Usually with a single spirit base. There, people expect a certain character from the Whisky, Gin or whatever, but not the naked taste. Champagne is different. No walk-on roles. It’s always the star.

Then there’s the fact that bubbly works like Vermouth in a mix, opening up and enlarging other tastes, including those better kept hidden. Which is why bubbly and Gin are not happy bedfellows or for that matter, bubbly and vastly expensive blends of Cognac: because deep within the spirit there will be over-aged elements that actually don’t taste very nice. Which the bubbly will unveil.

All of which means that any sparkling cocktail made with serious bubbly will be a throw-back to the original style of cocktail-making, which was essentially a measure of spirits, nuanced with one or two other ingredients. That’s what a Sour is, an Old Fashion is, even a Dry Martini and with bubbly there has always been a very limited choice of ‘other ingredients’ that will do a good nuancing job.

Here and rare
So: where Cognac is concerned, note that Petite Champagne works better than Grande, younger, simpler (cheaper) blends better than older and dearer. That Fine de Marne, the ‘Brandy of Champagne’, is too bland but, uniquely among spirits of its type, Marc de Champagne works brilliantly.

Sweet nuances? Ratafia de Champagne liqueur will keep the colour pale, the taste grapey. For a subtle, unidentifiable, difference make for yourself the Portuguese milk liqueur which now only survives commercially in versions from the Azores. These tend to include vanilla, which is all wrong. Recipes are on the Internet, but you’ll need Vodka, milk, sugar, lemon. Also make your own grenadine with pomegranate juice and simple syrup, your own ‘blue curacao’ with syrup, food dye, a touch of Vodka, and a squeeze of orange zest.

English versions of old recipes often include Absinthe. Use Chartreuse Elixier Vegetal instead. When chocolate or berry liqueurs are in the mix, Alsace black pepper eau de vie or with any sweetened combination, apricot Palinka edv from Hungary. It somehow replaces sweetness with ‘fruit’.

As for juice, aromatic, sweet-sour maracujar (passion fruit) is the one with real potential.

BUCK’S PASSSION
Shake with ice:
90 ml Fresh squeezed orange juice
20 ml Passion fruit juice
20 ml Orange Curacao
2 Drops Elixier Vegetal
Strain into chilled flute glass
Fill with Brut bubbly, stir
Garnish: orange wheel

OLD TANGIERS
Shake with ice:
20 ml Bourbon
20 ml French Vermouth
10 ml Italian Vermouth
10 ml Van der Hum Tangerine liqueur
Strain into chilled coupe glass
Fill with Brut or Extra Brut bubbly, stir
Garnish: long spiral of orange zest

ARMISTICE
Shake with ice:
15 ml Fraise des Bois wild strawberry liqueur
10 ml Marc de Champagne
1 Dash black pepper eau de vie
Strain into chilled flute glass
Fill with Brut Champagne, stir
Garnish: pineapple wedge spiked with strawberry

BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE
Rub three sides of a sugar cube against an orange until
coloured with the zest oil. Drop into chilled flute glass
Add chilled Ratafia de Champagne liqueur to cover
Add 1 teaspoon chilled black pepper edv
Fill with chilled Brut Champagne
Stir gently once
Garnish: orange wheel

Which discouraging thoughts occurred to me when, at a recent drinks and goodies showcase I was confronted by a photo of a spoonful of French (repeat French) farmed sturgeon caviar – Sturia, from near Bordeaux – alongside a brimming flute of Champagne. Luxury to the nth degree to be sure. But, to my way of tasting, it is another fact that caviar, wherever it comes from and Champagne do nothing for each other.

So what about a sparkling cocktail instead? With a taste to harmonise or contrast with the caviar’s intense, slightly sweet, moderately salty fishiness and a look likewise: either pure water white or blue-black. Leastways a combination that would survive the encounter itself while leaving the palate pristine after every sip.

Light or dark?
At which point the problems kicked-in. For a ‘white’ drink the obvious choice of base spirit base spirit seemed to be Vodka. After all, the Russians drink it with caviar all the time, don’t they. The trouble is, as I knew very well, any Vodka mixed with any bubbly is almost as nasty as any bubbly mixed with Gin. So I tried White Brandy (Armagnac Blanche), but the taste ‘fell apart’ in the mix. And White Rum was another disappointment: merely muting the acidity of the bubbly, which it is essential to keep.

What did work was pure agave Tequila Branco! Its crisp vegetal heart contributing just enough spice to contrast with the grape quality of the wine.

As to the auditions for a slate- coloured mix, it was Rye Whisky, not Bourbon nor any Malt – which proved best. This didn’t surprise me. What did, was the discovery that the only acceptable way to get blue into the recipes wasn’t via Blue Curacao – always too little colour, always too many weird back-tastes – but blue food dye. As they did in the Roaring ‘20s. A very little though, because the modern stuff is far more vivid than the old vegetable extracts.

As to the bubbly, Blanc de Blancs (Chardonnay) was the obvious choice. Chiefly for its paleness. What you want is something full-bodied and winey, but not aromatic. The taste needs to sort of sidle onto your palate after the spirit has done its cleansing job. I found I got equally good results with another item in that showcase, Cremela Recas classic method sparkling Chardonnay, from Romania, and an old favourite of mine, Mandois Champagne Blanc de Blancs.

CASINO
30ml Tequila Branco
½ Teaspoon orange bitters
½ Teaspoon lemon juice
Few drops blue food dye
Twist of lemon rind (in shaker)
Shake with ice. Strain into flute glass
Fill with Brut bubbly, stir briefly,
top with a dash of Parfait Amour

GREY GODDESS
25 ml Tequila Branco
2 Teaspoons Curacao
2 Teaspoons lemon juice
Few drops blue dye
Shake with ice, strain into flute glass.
Fill with brut bubbly, stir

MAGNUM
Saturate sugar cube with Peychaud and
orange bitters, plus a few drops blue dye
Drop into flute glass.
Separately shake with ice:
30 ml Rye Whisky
10 ml Parfait Amour
Strain into glass
Fill with brut bubbly, stir once

All the same, eggs-and-bubbly mixes, though always rarities, do have a history. They are to be found among the Flips and Pick-Me-Ups in all old recipe books, from 1868 to 1959. Whereupon the categories tout court faded away. The Flips morphed into heavyweight dessert cocktails, the PMUs (always essentially hangover cures) succumbing to Alka Seltzer…

Examples? Well take Robert Vermeire’s Champagne Flip and Harry McElhone’s Cecil Pick Me Up. With the former you shake the yolk of a fresh egg with ice, add the bubbly to the shaker, strain it all into a wine glass, and garnish with a grate of nutmeg. The Cecil, named for a vanished hotel in London’s Strand, was made with an egg yolk, Brandy, castor sugar, shaken with ice, poured into a medium-sized wine glass, then filled with bubbly.

So much for egg, but what about Advocaat? The amiable vanilla flavoured egg-and-spirits combo tasting like fortified custard was almost certainly not invented in Holland or Germany, Africa or South America, but in Iberia, thence probably via the same Jewish Diaspora that brought battered fried fish to England. That being said, it is hard to explain why it doesn’t show up early on in cocktails. Or why the first published appearance of the name in English wasn’t until 1936…

Whatever, in the late 1940s or early 50s, just when raw egg was in terminal decline as a cocktail ingredient, in Britain a foaming mix yclept the Snowball apparently rose without trace to become a pub favourite among mature ladies. Made with Advocaat, Rose’s lime juice, lemonade or sometimes Babycham, it was served in a large wine glass with a cocktail cherry spitted across the top. Modern commentators assume it was cheap. Not so. Back then a bottle of Bols Advocaat cost precisely twice as much as 15-year Vintage Port.

Flipside

Served in a martini glass and with fresh lime replacing cordial, the Snowball is now a classic cocktail, but the assumption remains that the original novelty was precisely that. As opposed to being a re-interpretation of those old Flips and PMUs. The Babycham-variant is the clue. First it was made with bubbly, then with sparkling English perry, finally with the old R. Whites.

The real curiosity is why it didn’t lead on to a whole tribe of Advocaat ‘n’ bubbly mixes. Class prejudice? Sexism? Because Champagne had embarked on its mission to be taken so seriously that only a cad would mix it?

Or just because most people tried to make the spin-offs with the wrong kind of bubbly. Brut isn’t best.Indeed it’s the worst. For the following example recipes, I used low-alcohol (7%) Asti. But any sweet or sweetish sparkler would do.

CECIL FLIP

30 ml Advocaat
10 ml Brandy
5 ml Benedictine
5 ml French Vermouth
½ Teaspoon orange bitters

Bubbly to fill
Shake hard with ice, strain and into
well-chilled coupe glass
Fill with demi sec bubbly, stir.
Garnish: orange wedge

MAYFAIR MAID

30 ml Rye Whisky
40 ml Advocaat
5 ml French Vermouth
¼ Teaspoon Angostura

Make as above
Garnish: orange wedge stuck with cherry

CORAL

30 ml Advocaat
15 ml White Eau de Vie*
10 ml Red fruit liqueur*
1 Squeeze lemon juice
½ Teaspoon orange bitters

Make as above
Garnish: Orange twist

* EDV: Slivovitz, Kirsch, Williams. Liqueurs: Cherry, Mure, Raspberry, Pomegranate,

There are old stories of Champagne in rainbow colours. Not that any was ever so bottled, just served that way. How did they manage it? By putting a bit of coloured stuff in the glass of course. The tales date from the Naughties of the 20th century. So the legend may reflect the Art Nouveau decadence of those days. Those were also the years when the Brut style of Champagne was conquering all and not everything liked it. So adding a bit of something sweet – a coloured liqueur for example – made sense to some. Alternatively, it was just a promo by the Dutch liqueur maker Fokink (eventually bought by Bols), whose range included speciality Curacaos in all the colours of the spectrum.

Judging by the surviving examples I once tasted – at least 50 years old at the time and long opened – they all looked pretty enough but tasted of nothing you could put a name to. Least of all orange. Perhaps they never did, being merely ‘cocktail liqueurs’ – all about colour not taste. The genre as a whole survives only in the form of Blue Curacao, which never tastes of anything much either.

But then how should ‘blue’ taste? Or any other colour? The answer is: how we think they should taste. Because colour comes with subliminal baggage. We expect green to be minty, pink or red fruity, orange or yellow to be citrusy and if they’re not we get confused.

Meanwhile the fact is, despite the theoretical attractiveness of a sparkling glass topped with coloured mousse, if you look for coloured sparkling cocktail recipes you don’t find many. This is because they aren’t that easy to do. Even if you use the No-Brandy version of the Champagne Cocktail as the base, you are up against the problem that wine isn’t water-white but yellowish. So blues tend to become sea-green and so on.

In Britain the old bartenders got round it by using food dye. Especially blue – though few cocktails with ‘blue’ in their name actually are, including the one with the best name, the sparkling Blue Train Special.

In fact the most successful of the coloured Champagne cocktails was always the red Alfonso. Originally this was half and half Dubonnet and Champagne with an Angostura soused sugar cube. Today it is better made with Brandy to cover the cube, Peychaud bitters, and no more than 15 ml of Dubonnet – because it’s sweeter now than it was back in 1922, when the Alfonso was allegedly invented to honour the King of Spain. Incidentally, it’s no better for the use of pink Champagne, which in fact never works well when mixed.

And don’t forget, though the With-Brandy Champagne Cocktail is just better than the No-Bandy, you can often round the colour restrictions this causes by using Blanche Armagnac. So open the bar door and let the spectrum in!

YUPPY
30 ml Cherry Brandy
1 Teaspoon Golden Rum
30 ml Orange juice
1 Dash orange bitters (opt’l)
1 Ice cube in glass
80-90 ml Cava (to fill)
Garnish: orange wheel
Shake all ingredients except Cava, strain into flute glass. Add Cava, stir carefully.

MEZZO SOPRANO
15 ml Triple Sec
15 ml oz Cherry Brandy
1 Dash Angostura
80-90 ml Champagne to fill
Stir ingredients except Champagne. Pour into a small tumbler filled with ice. Add slices of orange and pineapple. Fill with Champagne, stir once.

COTES D’AZUR
1 Teaspoon Blanche Armagnac
1½ Teaspoons Blue Curacao
½ Teaspoon Triple Sec
½ Teaspoon Kirsch
Stir, pour into Champagne coup
80-90 ml Champagne or Cava to fill
Garnish: lemon twist

Well, yum yum! Obviously a Summer classic, a dessert cocktail classic. A classic to go around the world. Actually no. It may be in the book, but it didn’t even make it onto the Savoy’s cocktail menus.

The reason is, this is one the great Harry somehow got wrong. In its original form it just doesn’t work. The ice cream kills the Champagne – mousse, smell, taste and all.

If a little light now goes on in your head to the effect that the great man misread his notes and ‘Soyer’ should read sorbet – forget it! That doesn’t work either.

How the ‘Soyer’ came about no one can say. As a name for a mixed drink it can be traced back to Paris in the 1890s (there’s an even older American ‘Soyer Punch’ too). Apart from the name not doing the drink any favours appeal-wise, any sort of link with celebrity chef Alexis Soyer (1810-58) is unlikely. Famously the head chef of London’s Reform Club and inventor of a famine soup for the Irish and a field stove for the British Army, there is no documentation to support his having anything special to do with ice cream or Champagne.

This author’s guess is that ‘Soyer’ is a garbling of ‘soyeux’ [silky].

Go with the freeze
The only thing you can do with mixes that you want to work but don’t, is to change them!

In this case the trick consists of replacing the ice cream with an ingredient neither Soyer A. nor Craddock H. had available to them: frozen yogurt. Preferably the soft-serve type.

At once all the apparently insuperable problems disappear. You get the mousse, taste and nose of the bubbly and a drink which is light but not lightweight. Frothy, silky, as sweet as you want it to be, but in any case with a faint ‘sharpened’ creaminess from the yogurt. Not least, as a cocktail it is truly classic because the tastes and smells of every ingredient comes through.

But this raises the question of the choice of bubbly. A point I have made before is that if you are seeking real authenticity in classic Champagne Cocktails you should seriously consider demi sec not brut Champagne. But in this case, because abundant sweetness is laid on by the other ingredients, I think you should go the other way: to zero dosage. In fact in creating this recipe I used Ayala Zero Brut.

If you want variation the best way isn’t to change the yogurt but the Brandy and liqueurs. A non-fruity aux de vie instead of Brandy opens up a whole range of possibilities and always deploy two liqueurs, not one or three. You will taste them both.

Finally the name. I call it Frozen Angel because I created it at a frozen yogurt bar at the Angel, London a few Summers ago.

FROZEN ANGEL

50-60 ml/ 2 oz frozen yogurt*
½ Teaspoon Brandy, Rum, or a non-fruity eau de vie.
½ Teaspoon Curacao
½ Teaspoon Maraschino
Champagne to fill

Mix, adding (last) just enough Champagne to make the mixture pourable. Pour into flute glass/Champagne saucer and stir lightly. Garnish with orange wheel or pineapple wedge.

* Vanilla or green tea flavours work best.

The difference between a sparkling cocktail and a Champagne Cocktail is that in sparklers the bubbly is an addition to the drink not its base. It doesn’t have to taste of it.

If you think that means the bubbly is there just to turn a short drink into a long one and add value and bubbles, think again. The mix opens out all the ingredients. Structures and hidden tastes are revealed. And if the bubbly’s turns out to be mere mild acidulation on top of nothing much – or uncouth acidity or oxidation – so much the worse for the drink and the choice of bubbly.

Then there’s the mousse itself. The bubbles should last a bit, because texture is really what it’s all about. Sparkling and Champagne cocktails have a different mouth-feel to all others – and they’re lingered over, where ordinary cocktails tend to be drunk quickly.

Finally there’s ‘weight’ and structure. Your bubbly choice is going to find itself in awkward company. Sometimes neutrality is good. But at others vibrancy or sweetness, lightness or weight, will be better – in fact essential. There is no one-fits-all solution. Not even with Champagne.

The Great Unmentionable…

Many sparkling cocktails have their origins in the 19^th century – to a time when Champagne was typically much, much sweeter than it is now, and also varied notably depending on which country it was exported to. Champagne in Britain was always the driest, in America it was twice as sweet, in France itself six times… Right up to WW2 it was still generally sweeter than today.

But it’s not just sweetness. The old Champagnes were often also literally older – more rounded, less acidic. So, while there is an argument in favour of using very dry ‘brut zero’ (0-3 gpl added sugar) or ‘extra brut’ (3-6), and sweetening it if you think that is what’s required, the argument for using sec or demi-sec bubbly (17-32, 32-50 gpl sugar) is at least as strong.

And of course, it doesn’t have to be Champagne at all. Nor made with Chardonnay or Pinot. What it does have to be is bottle-fermented (because those bubbles have to keep coming) and 12-12.5 degrees of alcohol. Not less, not more.

Prosecco? No. But Cava certainly: the taste ranges between the ‘sappy’ and ‘neutral’ but it won’t hollow out the cocktail, which Prosecco will. The best alternatives of all are probably sparkling Saumur, whose use as a sub for Champers is traditional because its light weight and attractive acidity is perfect in heavier recipes, and Cremant D’Alsace, whose popularity is soaring everywhere except in Britain. This can be made from combinations of any of the local grapes, but look for a high proportion of Auxerois, a close relative of Chardonnay which gives it Champagne-like weight.

Bubbly in sparkling cocktails shouldn’t dominate or disappear. But what it contributes is invaluable.

AIR MAIL
In a shaker:
30 ml Golden Rum
1 Teaspoon runny honey or agave syrup
Juice ½ lime
Shake
Pour into flute glass, fill with bubbly, stir

BLACK VELVET FANCY
Into a flute glass pour:
10-15 ml iced chocolate liqueur or Cherry Brandy*
Carefully half fill glass with iced stout or dark, malty beer
Fill with iced demi-sec Champagne or off-dry sparkling wine
Stir gently
Orange twist garnish.
* With bitter stout: Mozart Black chocolate liqueur. Otherwise Grant’s or Heering Cherry Brandy.

CAVALIER
Put a sugar cube in a flute glass
Cover with 10 ml Brandy
Add 10 ml Apricot Brandy
Fill with Cava
Stir gently
Lemon twist garnish

Photo: Mango Tree restaurant, London