It’s no surprise that the Dunhill landed on the classics section of the menu at Toronto’s Bar Raval. The Barcelona-inspired bar prides itself on its carefully curated selection of vermouths and sherries and, as a result, the cocktail program spotlights drinks like the Bamboo, Adonis and Dunhill. “That’s been a real part of the ethos of the cocktail program since its inception,” says managing partner Hailey Burke. The Dunhill is known in some corners of bartending culture, but has yet to make its full comeback, and Bar Raval is doing its part to up its name recognition in Ontario and beyond.
The Dunhill (usually known by its longer name, Dunhill’s Special) is a spirit-forward cocktail highlighting two of England’s favorite drinks: gin and sherry. In the original recipe, the corpus of the drink is formed by equal parts gin, French vermouth and sherry, then flavored with small amounts of Curaçao and absinthe and garnished with an olive.
The Dunhill first appeared in Drinks—Long and Short, a 1925 book by Nina Toye and A.H. Adair, published in London, that contains other obscure classics like the Champs-Élysées and the Pauline. In the book, the drink is credited to Hatchett’s Bar, which had operated as a coaching inn and coffeehouse in Piccadilly since the 18th century. By the 1920s, it was a restaurant and bar that drew celebrities and the hip set and was, apparently, churning out cocktails. Toye and Adair credit two other drinks in their book to the bar. One can presume that the fashionable tobacco and luxury goods brand founded by Alfred Dunhill at the turn of the 20th century is the source of the drink’s name.
Bar Raval’s interpretation of the Dunhill is a carefully constructed ode to the original, with a couple of stylistic tweaks. The most significant change is a shift in the drink’s ratios. The bar tends to favor spirit-forward constructions in most classic specs—from Negronis to Paper Planes—and the Dunhill is no exception. Thus, the gin is increased to one and a half ounces and the sherry and vermouth are both reduced to three-quarters of an ounce each. This, says Burke, works best for the drier palate that reigns supreme in Toronto.
For the gin, Bar Raval chooses its go-to, perhaps the most London-y of all the London drys: Beef. Burke says its significant but not overpowering presence of juniper and citrus makes it ideal for most classics.
The sherry, meanwhile, presented more of a challenge. According to Talia Baiocchi, Punch editor-in-chief and author of the book Sherry, the word “sherry” in the original recipe could mean anything from a dry and oxidative style, like oloroso, to cream sherry, which has a sweetness more akin to Italian vermouth. In the recipe in her book, Baiocchi suggests Lustau’s East India expression, which is made with a mix of oloroso and Pedro Ximénez styles and is aged to mimic the days of sherry spending months or even years on ships. Bar Raval opts for the same Lustau product. “I definitely don’t want a Dunhill if it doesn’t have East India,” Burke says, citing the pleasing notes of raisin and petrol, as well as the general warmth that this particular sherry contributes.
As a foil to the sherry, the Bar Raval team reaches for yet another Spanish product—Vinos Guerra dry vermouth, which is their go-to brand for dry as well as rojo and blanco styles. The dry expression bolsters the gin with its citrus notes and crisp quality.
For the Curaçao, Bar Raval sticks to industry favorite Pierre Ferrand, which contributes its signature dry vanilla flavor and orange peel bitterness. For the absinthe, the bar uses a local brand—Dillon’s, produced in Niagara, Ontario—but has used others in the past. Burke says that regardless of brand, the absinthe contributes a welcome warmth and anise flavor.
In a departure from the original, Angostura worked its way into Bar Raval’s recipe a while back and has remained a part of it ever since. Because of a shortage of East India sherry, the bar was blending amontillado with PX and adding Angostura to mimic the missing product. “When we got the East India back, we were accidentally still dashing [Angostura] in and we were like, Oh, this is good,” says Burke, “so we kept it.”
Also unlike the original Dunhill, Bar Raval’s version is served on the rocks, stirred in a double rocks glass with Kold-Draft cubes, the way some might opt to make a Negroni. It retains the olive garnish of the original, while adding a brightening lemon twist to the mix.
There’s something warm and cozy—but also sexy—about the Dunhill, especially with this cream sherry–laced spec. Burke says the drink’s vibe and mix of old-school ingredients makes her think of 1970s dinner parties. “Everyone’s smoking and it’s gotten a little too late,” she says, “then everyone jumps in the pool.”