The White Russian Revisited

Credit: Niki Nero Photography

Just because I am wearing a chinchilla-collared bathrobe, don’t let your mind wander to Russian princes, czars or Doctor Zhivago. No! It’s The Big Lebowski we must turn our minds to now, wherein the bathrobe-wearing Dude pours himself nine White Russians as naturally as I pour eight glasses of water. As the Dude put it so eloquently, “New sh*t has come to light.”

The Dude is the guy who resurrected the cocktail from sixty years in the dustbin. The White Russian saw a massive revival in 1998 thanks to the Coen brothers’ classic The Big Lebowski. Because of that movie, it’s kind of fun and silly, delightful and decadent to wear a bathrobe while sipping this drink.

I sometimes think the White Russian is a secret shame drink. Ordering one could age you forty years just by association. They might be perfect for alcoholics because they are easy on the stomach and then there’s the bathrobe thing. (Any alcohol drunk while wearing a bathrobe falls into the category of secret shame, don’t you think?) It’s an ironic, sad sort of drink — a little bit of a Best Enjoyed Alone cocktail. It’s hard to take the White Russian seriously. It’s not a drink you would normally order out, perhaps a little embarrassing but something you might actually enjoy, if only with your closest friends. 

But I like it. I am not ashamed to admit that last night I happily ate thick salty slices of rare rib eye and drank a White Russian to go with it. Someone has to do the cocktail research! My body craved fat and what better to satisfies that than ribeyes and cream? What would the mother in me, the fifteen- or twenty-years-ago me have said about her future behavior? Nothing good, that’s for sure. I must be letting myself go to seed. Au contraire! I can assure old judge-y me that I am having the greatest time of my life now, eating fatty steak and drinking a (shameful) drink.  It’s not an every night occurrence, more like once a year. Combining vodka, Kahlúa, cream, and serving it on the rocks creates a delicious alternative to adult milkshakes. What’s wrong with that?

The White Russian is due for a status upgrade, less shameful, less secret, less lonely.  It’s a drink that has the heft to stand in for dessert, a liquid in lieu of cake or pie. Less caffeine than a piece of chocolate cake, less caloric than a slice of pie...it’s got that perfect after-dinner decadence feeling.

Time for geography. There is a little town in Colorado called Oak Creek whose Mayor, Cargo Rodman, drank White Russians like the Dude, as in all day long. In that town the White Russian was renamed Mayor’s Milk.

And now history! A version of the drink appeared in the 1930 edition of The Savoy Cocktail Book by Harry Craddock under the name the Russian, made with vodka, gin and crème de cacao. The Russian Bear was made with vodka, crème de cacao and cream. Crème de cacao is a sweet vanilla-flavored liqueur. The Black Russian is vodka and coffee liqueur, two parts vodka to one part coffee liqueur. The White Russian came about in the ’60s when someone somewhere added a bit of cream to the Black Russian. (Who added cream to a Black Russian to make it white? No one knows!) None of these drinks are Russian in origin. It’s the vodka part that ties them to Russia.

Original recipe was equal parts vodka, Kahlúa, and cream. The Dude made his with two parts vodka, one part Kahlúa, and one part cream. Not as good as the original, I can assure you. I tested both last night. However both are rich, velvety, and go down smooth. I do want to point out that one is enough. 

Cream… When making a White Russian choose heavy cream. Half-and-half can work but why bother? This is not a drink for anyone faint of heart, health conscious, avoiding fat in the diet. And know that milk produces a thin drink. Have a seltzer instead! You’re aiming for decadence. The difference between heavy cream and whipping cream is this: heavy cream has 36 percent fat, whipping cream 30 percent; half-and-half, equal parts milk and cream, has 10 to 18 percent fat. Not enough heft for this drink. 

Kahlúa is a coffee liqueur made in Mexico since 1936, with rum, sugar, and coffee. A bottle takes up to seven years to produce, due to growing and harvesting coffee beans. In the ‘60s, Kahlúa was led by an an all women team. Quite unusual back in the day. Another fun fact? February 27 is National Kahlúa Day. Now you’ll know what to do with that bottle languishing in the back of your bar this Saturday night! It’s just waiting to be opened and appreciated… 

Remember you can use Kahlúa to make more than a White Russian. Try adding a shot to brownies, drizzle on ice cream sundaes, give chocolate cake batter a kick in the pants, whip into your cheesecake. This stuff is asking for more of your time and attention!

CHOICE ONE - 1+1+1 = perfect. 1 PART KAHLÚA, 1 PART ABSOLUT VODKA, 1 PART HEAVY CREAM.  

CHOICE TWO - The way it’s made in the movie. 2 ounces vodka, 1 ounce Kahlúa, 3 teaspoons each of cream and milk.

EITHER CHOICE - Fill a rocks glass with ice cubes. Add Kahlúa and vodka, then pour in the cream layer. 

OR for a milk shake-y feeling, shake with ice and strain over more ice.

Cheers!