So, you’re saddled with: Blue Curacao

Hoo-boy, everyone.  It’s tax time in my neck of the woods, which means that I get to go through a predictable-but-no-less-terrible cycle of elation and remorse.

  1. Open up the form that tells me how much money I made over the course of the year.  KICK ASS!  I never fail to get ridiculously excited by my income, because I have a brain problem where I am convinced that I earn as much as I did back when I was in University.  It doesn’t matter how many years pile up between me and the days when I slogged movies at the Blockbuster, I will never stop believing that I earn $7.50 an hour and am therefore thrilled at every payday.  It’s insane, but I think it’s good preparation for my retirement years.
  2. Scan over to the box where I see how much tax has already been deducted from my income before I even got it, and die a little inside.
  3. Start punching all the figures from all the little boxes into my online tax software, and then die a whole lot more inside.  Like, if just a piece of my heart had withered up before, this would be, say, my entire lower half just completely shutting down.
  4. Add in the retirement savings that constitute the one and only tax shelter that exists in Canada, and feel only slightly less like I’ve been thoroughly peeled.
  5. …and if you think reading about me doing my taxes is riveting, try being me.

In any event, running the gauntlet of total fiscal discouragement is enough to make anyone feel incredibly, thriftily thirsty.  A drink is definitely called-for, but after realizing that I’ve spent more on Tangueray than transit this year, there’s no way I’m going out for something new.

No, it’s time to make the most of whatever’s already hanging around in the liquor cabinet.  And how bad could that possibly be?  Why would we ever buy something that we wouldn’t enjoy?  There’s no chance that we’d have a bottle of something awful hanging aroun–

Oh hey, Blue Curaçao.  It’s you.  Yeah, no — I didn’t forget about you at all.  I guess we just sort of fell out of touch, what with you tucked all the way back there behind the almost-empty bottle of Jagermeister and the souvenir bottle of wine we got at a friend’s wedding. Yes, you sure are virtually untouched, aren’t you?  Gosh, it looks like barely two ounces were ever poured out of your bottle in the months and possibly years that we’ve had you.

…yeah, it would be a waste just to tuck you back into the cupboard.  Sigh.

What?  Oh no!  I’m not brutally depressed at all.  Just, you know, struggling with all the sugar caked around your lid here.  Ha ha ha!  Who’d have thought you’d have to work so hard just to get at booze you don’t actually want, huh?


Every household that has ever had a martini party, a tropical-themed backyard party or a novelty drink night has a bottle of Blue Curacao kicking around.  In fact, even if none of those events have ever happened in your home, you might have a bottle lurking in the back of your cupboard anyway — in my more paranoid moments, I imagine that they just naturally sprout from the drippings of better liqueurs and then spread to take over the cabinet, like a 40-proof crabgrass.

The drink itself is a product of the island of Curacao, colonized by the Spanish in the 1500s.

Not actually all that great for cultivation, Curacao proved to be hostile to the Valencia oranges that the Spanish brought with them, which didn’t fare too well.  The fruit turned bitter and developed into the dwarf Laraha orange, which in turn was allowed to grow wild until someone could come up with a use for it. Naturally, as with so many other fruits, plants, herbs, crops and anything else that is otherwise inedible, someone decided to see if they could make alcohol out of it.

Wouldn’t you know!  It turns out that the natural oils in the Laraha peel are actually pretty fragrant, and when combined with some other botanicals can produce a clear, sweet liqueur that ranges in strength anywhere from 20 to 40 percent ABV.  The blue is just a bonus!  A teeth-staining, sticky bonus that’s meant to invoke the striking waters of the south Caribbean.

There are a number of varieties and brands of Blue Curacao, but I’m not sure you’ll find many connoisseurs out there to guide you between premium and dreck.  There is an article out there who claims to be the Original Brand, for which one can expect to pay and Original Brand Price, but for most purposes it’s important to know what you can really expect.  Namely:

  • Curacao has a gritty sweetness to it that’s underscored, to varying degrees, with herbal flavors.  Imagine if someone sugared your gin, and you’re in the right neighborhood.
  • It’s blue.  It’s unnaturally blue.  It’s that same blue as in a Rocket Popcicle, and with nearly the same unholy effect on your tongue.  All kidding aside, you don’t often get that kind of coloring opportunity in your booze, and it really can have some creative applications.
  • It’s also pretty cheap.  Unless you make a real effort, you’re unlikely to find an expensive bottle of Curacao.  This is decorative booze on a budget.

But the real question is, when you’re heartbroken from assessing your personal finances, what the hell are you going to do with a bottle of this stuff?

1.  Make Nerd Drinks

Apparently nerds everywhere are convinced that drinks from the future are blue, and therefore awesome.  In fact, this is one of the rare points on which both Star Trek and Star Wars fans are forced to agree — and as a result, you get your choice of which fictional beverage you’d prefer to embarrass yourself by making.

Star Wars Blue Milk Cocktail:

  • 1 oz Blue Curacao liqueur
  • 1/3 oz creme de cacao
  • 2 1/2 oz milk

Pour the milk over a single ice cube in a cocktail glass. Add blue curacao and creme de cacao simultaneously. Stir briefly, and serve.

Romulan Ale

  • 375 ml Bacardi 151 Proof Rum
  • 375 ml Vodka
  • 375 ml Blue Curacao

Clean and prepare a 1 liter bottle, before combining equal measures of each ingredient in it. For best results, chill in your freezer for a couple of hours to achieve a syrupy texture.  Take the time while you’re waiting to notify your next of kin, and ponder whether being a Star Wars fan might not preserve your lifespan.

2.  Make Girl Drinks

Let’s be honest, despite our fantasies, most women do not actually enjoy knocking back ounce after ounce of straight Scotch whiskey.  I mean, Tina does, but that’s because I’m hysterically fortunate and — let’s face it — kind of the girl in our relationship.  She smokes, drinks hard liquor and eats her steak so rare that it might actually still be alive; on the other hand, I write lengthy guides about the proper use of colorful liqueurs and talk in detail about my feelings.

Anyway, the important thing to take from this is that there’s always someone in your household who’s going to need girly drinks, and Curacao can definitely help in that.  For example:

The Blue Lagoon is a sappy story about natural love or whatever, known among boys of my generation as the movie where Brooke Shields swam around naked.  But did you also know that it’s a sappy, lightweight cocktail for people who don’t like the taste of alcohol very much?

It’s true!

The Blue Lagoon

  • 1 oz. Vodka
  • 1 oz. Blue Curacao
  • 4 parts lemonade

Perfect in rock or highball glass with crushed ice, and served while boys grow tall, girls grow beautiful and love happens that is as powerful as the sea, or something.

3.  Make a Classic

You know, or if all else fails, you can always work on crafting a classic.  I did say that there aren’t a lot of Curacao Appreciation Societies out there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that some of its feature drinks don’t have their passionate supporters.

Take the Mai Tai, for example, a drink that has seven different recipes and groups of Tiki cocktail purists who will argue vociferously about each one.  Dare to include pineapple juice at your peril, jerk!  Presume to use blue Curacao instead of orange and suffer their wrath!  Put grenadine in there and your days are numbered, heathen!  Here’s the “pure” edition from Senor Curacao of Curacao, as an example:

  • 2 ounces 17-year-old J. Wray Nephew Jamaican rum
  • 1/2 ounce French Garnier Orgeat
  • 1/2 ounce Orange CuracaoLiqueur
  • 1/4 ounce Rock Candy Syrup
  • juice from one fresh lime

“Shake with crushed ice, serve in a rocks glass, garnish with a mint sprig, one pineapple spear, and a cocktail cherry. And yes, it must have the mint garnish to be a mai tai. No float of dark rum. No 5 tropical fruit juices. No grenadine. No umbrella. No pineapple juice. No sour mix.”

Hear that?  Yeah, that’s right, this is a recipe so exclusive that it actually has as many things that you DON’T add as there are things you DO.  Because it’s THAT IMPORTANT, and Tiki enthusiasts will shun you forever if you screw it up.  Of course, Tiki enthusiasts don’t have a constrained budget and a bunch of blue Curacao lying around, so I say improvise.  Only you will know, and only you can decide whether authenticity is as delicious as the sweet, sweet flavor of saving a little money.

Blue Curacao doesn’t have to be the perpetually unwelcome guest in your liquor cabinet.  As a liqueur it’s perfectly competent at delivering a mid-range alcoholic whallop, and its sweetness makes it accessible to almost anyone.  And while the bright blue color can quickly turn your more common cocktails into swamp water, it also affords the opportunity to get a bit creative with your bad self.

Just brush your teeth afterwards.

  • lo

    I must admit, I’ve always been a little bit afraid of anything quite that blue. So, this post made me wonder how I ended up with the Blue Curacao in the first place… but, then I remembered. That Blue Moon party we had way back in 1999. Ah, yes. Blue foods everywhere. it’s a wonder I haven’t done THAT again.

    11 year old blue curacao… think that’s still good?? 🙂

    • Mike

      Blue Curacao never goes bad. It wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction.

  • cayenne

    Blue Curacao is better than peach or raspberry schnappes for prompting what-was-I-thinking-when-I-bought-this reactions when cleaning out liquor cabinets or inaccessible kitchen cupboard corners.

    Blue Curacao has been the basis of almost every alcohol-related embarrassing event I can remember…and more that my friends can remember. It’s become anti-tall poppy shorthand in my circle; if I start getting too bigheaded, all my friends have to say is “blue lagoon at the Madison” and I will immediately turn red, start mumbling & go hide in a corner for an hour to regroup.

  • Kristie

    Tina doesn’t smoke, Mike. Don’t LIE all the time. Sheesh. Maybe, like, fine cigars or something. And pot on occasion. But not regular cigarettes.

    The blue curacao at my parents’ house has been there since I was seven. And the reason it’s there is that when I was seven, our alcoholic neighbor died and bequeathed his alcohol cabinet to my parents. There was a partially drunk bottle of blue curacao in there, and God only knows how old it was at that point. So it’s heirloom at this point.

  • nicki

    I remember Blue Cuacao as the cool drink from the late 50s and early 60s -usually tied to the space age – Blue Moon, Moon Shot, etc. and there was also a Blue Hawaii, i think it may have been named after a movie.

  • Pingback: OK, you've covered pink, now what would you do with blue? I have a bottle of Blue Curacao that I haven't cracked the seal on. I can't seem to get over the fact that it looks like the bottle of blue mouthwash i have on my bathroom counter. L()

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