How to Make a Dovetail, the Tequila Cocktail Hemingway Would Have Loved

It’s a shame, really, that Ernest Hemingway never chanced an encounter with high-quality tequila before he died in 1961. It feels a little like a child who never got to meet his grandfather—to cradle a bottle of 100 percent agave blanco tequila, and to say, wistfully and as much to yourself as anyone else, “my god…he would’ve loved you so much.”

Even if he had never written a word, it’s tempting to believe Hemingway would be famous for his drinking exploits alone; if alcohol were a sport, Ernest Hemingway would be the Michael Jordan of the game. An entire nearly 300 page book has been written solely of the author’s relationship to drink, the various permutations of wine and Champagne that he favored, his Bloody Marys in Hong Kong and Martinis in the African bush, his gin and rum and whiskey and pisco and heroic doses of absinthe and so much more. Bars across the world dispute each other’s claims that theirs was “Hemingway’s Favorite,” and the one in Cuba—birthplace of the Hemingway Daiquiri, more on this in a moment—put a bronze statue of him on his favorite barstool. Whether it was the original specs of the Papa Doble or his own recipe for the Death in the Afternoon, the stories of his appetites were fantastic, incredible, and likely all true. 

But notably absent from all of this is tequila. Hemingway was no stranger to Mexico, though at the time (late ‘30s, early ‘40s) he would’ve had to be very lucky indeed to find the type of high-quality tequila that has since so fully captured the attention of the world. Great tequila tends to earn converts, who then proselytize. Unshy about his opinions and his liquid affections; had Hemingway come across some, I suspect we would know about it.

In any event—it was at the La Floridita in Cuba that Hemingway helped create the cocktail he would be most associated with, the “Papa Doble”—a double-the-rum, zero-sugar combination of lime, grapefruit, maraschino, and rum, that, over time, bartenders have adjusted to saner proportions and rechristened the Hemingway Daiquiri. It’s a great drink, and worth making… but having managed cocktail bars for the last 15 years, I can say that if someone on my team invented that drink today in an R&D session, before the sample glass could make it fully around to the whole staff, one of them would ask, “hey, what if we tried this with tequila instead?”

Meet the Dovetail. The Dovetail is tequila with maraschino liqueur, grapefruit and lime juices, and a couple dashes of Peychaud’s bitters, shaken and served up. It comes to us via the iconic Melbourne bar the Everleigh (which sadly closed earlier this year), and from bartender Andy Chu, who, according to their fantastic cocktail book A Spot at the Bar, “dropped this little grenade on us in 2015 and it made it onto the Everleigh menu within the week.” It is, like the Siesta, the product of a little Mr. Potato Head-ing of the Hemingway Daiquiri but even more straightforward, tapping into the same brilliant grapefruit-and-tequila synergy that makes drinks like the Paloma so elementally refreshing. Chu’s creative license comes in the form of Peychaud’s Bitters, which the cocktail desperately needs—without, it’s flat and flabby, but with is round and juicy and dynamic, bringing a touch of fruit but also a faint anise note, which, as with tiki classics like the Jet Pilot, combines with grapefruit like a dream.

We’re not here to say the Dovetail is better than the Hemingway Daiquiri, but just that it’s a delicious take, a peer, and so obvious in hindsight that the moment I came across the recipe, I was surprised I hadn’t heard about it 10 years earlier. Think of it as the Hemingway Daiquiri’s child, and therefore as the grandchild of Hemingway himself, one that he tragically never got to meet.

Dovetail

Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker with ice and shake hard for eight to 10 seconds. Strain up into a cocktail glass or coupe, and garnish with a grapefruit peel or lime wheel.

NOTES ON INGREDIENTS

Tequila: Blanco, please. The bright vegetal bite of a good blanco is delicious and helps match the robust character of the maraschino liqueur.

Maraschino Liqueur: Maraschino is a liqueur distilled from the sour marasca cherries that grow around the Adriatic Sea in Italy and Croatia. It is, importantly, distilled from cherries and not infused with them, so it has a cherry character to be sure, but the distillation process often highlights more of the earthy, funky character of the fruit. The most popular brand by far is the tall, straw-covered Luxardo Maraschino liqueur, which is classic and good in this drink, but there are others. Its main competition is from a brand called Maraska, which has a brighter fruit component than Luxardo, and I think works much better here, coaxing brightness out of the Peychaud’s bitters as well. If all you have is Luxardo, this is still worth making, but if you have access to Maraska, I recommend it.

Peychaud’s Bitters: This will bring a light anise note to the finish. If you absolutely hate that note you can omit it, but you’ll need to do something to the cocktail to make it work—you can lengthen it with soda or shake it with a grapefruit peel, or add something else like a little Chartreuse, but once you start messing with it too much, you maybe should just make a Paloma or a classic Hemingway Daiquiri.