Cuban Special

Canned is fine and often steadier, since fresh pineapple swings wildly in sugar and can come out startlingly acidic. Whichever you use, shake it hard. Pineapple juice foams, and that thin pale head across the top is part of how the drink is meant to feel.

Usually too much melt against juice that was already dilute. Chill the rum, use dry cubes straight from the freezer, and keep the shake to twelve or fifteen seconds. If it still reads flat, add 4 ml of syrup, because fruit needs a little sugar under it to taste like fruit.

Close, but the curaçao is doing something. Eight milliliters bridges the pineapple and the rum, brings a trace of peel bitterness, and lets you leave out the sugar a Daiquiri needs. Without it you get juice and rum sitting side by side rather than together.

Not ruin, but it rounds everything off and the pineapple loses its edge against the caramel. Drop the curaçao to 5 ml to compensate. Light Cuban-style rum is the intent, dry and clean enough that the fruit stays the loudest thing in the glass.

A classic Cuban Special calls for 45 ml (1.5 oz) White rum, 8 ml (0.25 oz) Triple sec / Cointreau, 15 ml (0.5 oz) Pineapple juice, 15 ml (0.5 oz) Fresh lime juice. That single-serve spec scales cleanly — the recipe above converts it to oz and multiplies it for 2–4 drinks.

A standard Cuban Special is roughly 25% ABV once mixed (before ice melt softens it further). That makes it spirit-forward — closer to a Martini than to a beer, so sip it slowly.

A Cuban Special is shaken — the rule of thumb is to shake anything with citrus juice. About 13 seconds with plenty of ice chills and dilutes it correctly.