October 2019_Esquire 33
DRINKS
IN DEFENSE OF
THE PICKLEBACK
The divey special is now fancy
enough for cocktail bars—and
home By Sarah Rense
The first pickle juice I ever drank straight was at a
horrendous dive bar in the East Village called Con-
tinental—a place where crusty bartenders doled out
five shots of anything for $12, the sting of which you
could mask with $2 picklebacks. A bargain! Continen-
tal filed for bankruptcy (twice), then closed last year.
The pickleback, usually a shot of Irish whiskey followed
by a shot of sour brine,
lived on. And not only is
it still a shot-taking sta-
ple in New York, where
it was christened more
than a decade ago, but it
has also improved its lot
and become something
you actually want to
drink rather than some-
thing you begrudgingly
accept as your punish-
ment for trying to “go
out” and “have fun.”
On cocktail menus
these days, you can find
fancy picklebacks that
stray from the whis-
key/pickle-juice tem-
plate. Kaido in Miami
shot of Suntory Whisky
Toki followed by a shii-
take-mushroom-brine
chaser. The Belfry in
New York has an entire
pickleback menu, with
shots including the BB-
Cue Back (Bulleit bour-
bon and smoky brine)
and the Tickleback
(mezcal and chipotle
sour brine). BrewDog
bars in the UK regu-
larly experiment with
whiskey/brine combos.
The thing about the
pickleback that sets it
apart from, say, a Jell-O
shot is that the brine
is actually tasty, which makes throwing a few back
at home perfectly acceptable—especially if you use
homemade brine. Any recipe for pickling cucum-
bers will supply you with juice, and—bonus—you’ll
get actual pickles out of it. In her book Pickle Juice,
Florence Cherruault, founder of the London-based
bottled-brine company the Pickle House, outlines
brine recipes with more bite, like a tomato-based Holy
Maria and a Hot-Smoked Chiliback. But her go-to com-
bo remains straight-up pickle juice. “I absolutely love
doing it with Nikka Whisky From the Barrel,” she says.
For those with serious qualms about tossing back
shots and chasers in the kitchen, a pickle-juice cocktail
might be less savage. One of Cherruault’s favorites is a
shot of vodka and a shot of pickle juice, topped off with
ginger ale over ice and finished with a squeeze of lime.
A bartender at Pine Box Rock Shop in my Brooklyn
neighborhood builds a mean spicy-pickle margarita, off
menu, if you beat the crowds to her section of the bar.
But the simple pairing of booze and salt—for
me, that’s Jameson and Bubbies kosher-dill-pickle
brine—always does it right, one shot and chaser
at a time.
The thing about the
pickleback that sets it
apart from, say, a
Jell-O s h o t i s t h a t t h e
brine is actually tasty,
which makes throwing
a few back at home
perfectly acceptable—
especially if you
use homemade brine.
Brine,
Straight Up
Forgo the jar of
pickles for a big
bottle of nothing but
the good stuff
BIG SHOT
Picklebacks don’t need
a garnish, but it
doesn’t hurt, either.
- • • Prefer your pickle brine
without garlic knobs, dill
stems, and coriander seeds?
Lucky you: Entrepreneurial
folks are bottling the stuff
and selling it straight,
like the Brine Brothers’ Darn
Good Dill and Chili Cherry
Fire varieties. Pour one into
a shot glass to chase whis-
key. Drink it plain, soaking in
those electrolytes. Even
try freezing it in an ice tray
and eating a cube (or four)
on Sunday morning. After all,
pickle juice is as close to
a foolproof hangover cure as
we’ve ever known. Just
don’t use those cubes to
make a whiskey on the
rocks. It’ll taste like rotgut.
—S. R.
the Big Bite