Taste is a funny thing. Flavors beloved by some people are loathed by others. Sometimes it’s a matter of chemistry and biology. Each of us inherits a different assortment of olfactory receptors, which affects our perception of taste and smell. If you’ve drawn the short straw in this genetic lottery, certain herbs will taste like soap – that’s why J can’t stand tarragon. Others detest cilantro, caraway, or cumin for the same reason. Similarly, flavors that are subtle or non-detectable to you may be overpowering to another.

And sometimes taste is a matter of experience, good or bad. Perhaps your love of nutmeg was created during that first bite of grandma’s warm-from-the-oven Christmas cookies. Or you may find nutmeg repulsive after a formative experience with room-temperature eggnog and the gastrointestinal pyrotechnics that ensued. Decades later, I still shudder at the thought of peppermint schnapps, courtesy of a college episode of spectacular overindulgence. Taste preferences, like so many things in life, are part nature and part nurture.

Licorice is one of those flavors that provokes strong reactions. It’s probably a combination of chemistry as well as childhood associations with candy (good) and medicine (bad). The same flavor, albeit less intense, is found in anise seed and fennel. What’s interesting to me as a cocktail geek is the variety of spirits that are based on this flavor. Greek ouzo. French pastis and anisette. Italian sambuca. Middle-Eastern arak. Swiss absinthe. Turkish raki. Colombian aguardiente.

Co-blogger R dislikes licorice but, perhaps owing to some Italian heritage, he is a fan of fennel. Maybe it’s the intensity of the flavor that he finds objectionable. I decided to take up the challenge and create a cocktail that would appeal to him. Fennel was the obvious starting point, so I made a syrup from the stalks and fronds. His favorite booze is gin, and its herbal notes complemented the fennel nicely. But what else? The pale green color of the syrup stirred memories of another green gin cocktail – the Last Word. Based on its ingredients, I added lime juice and Chartreuse (the more delicate yellow instead of the green), but not maraschino (too sweet). The final component was Gran Classico, to balance the flavors and accentuate the fennel. R declared it “delicious!” and provided the perfect name for the cocktail: ladies and gentlemen, I give you The F Word.

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The F Word

• 1 oz. Tanqueray gin (or any London dry style)
• ½ oz. Yellow Chartreuse
• ½ oz. Gran Classico Bitter
• ½ oz. lime juice
• ½ oz. fennel simple syrup (see below)
• fennel frond, to garnish
• cocktail shaker, bar spoon, strainer, ice, coupe glass

Steps

• half-fill the shaker with ice
• add liquid ingredients and stir until cold
• strain into chilled coupe and garnish

Fennel simple syrup

• 1 cup sugar
• 1 cup water
• stalks and fronds of one fennel bulb, roughly chopped

Steps

• combine sugar and water in small saucepan
• heat until just boiling to dissolve sugar
• remove from heat and add fennel
• steep for 30 minutes, then strain into bottle
• store in the refrigerator (up to two weeks)