April 16, 2019
My love of, and diving into, the George Simenon Maigret canon has been well documented here on the Spiked Punch, with loads of Simenon Cocktail Talks
that you should go back and read and love. This one here, the newest as I write this at least, cause I’m sure they’ll be more, sees our man Maigret drawn into the wacky world of Parisian (and France, in general) politics, which he doesn’t always enjoy, but which it’s fun to see him navigate and he tried to unravel a corruption case. As usual, he and his team have an assortment of drinks along the way, starting with some sloe gin, but leaning heaviest I believe into Pernod.
And Maigret felt slightly guilty vis-à-vis his two colleagues. Lapointe too must have realized by now what it was all about.
“A beer?” suggested Maigret.
“No. A Pernod.”
And that too was out of character for Lucas. They waited for the drinks to be served, and then continued in hushed tones.
–George Simenon, Maigret and the Minister
April 12, 2019
Here’s something that’ll be no surprise to you, pal (as you’ve read this blog for years and years, and know me so well, and all that): I’m not opposed to a good dessert drink. Actually, I’m a dessert drink proponent, and feel that in our modern must-be-brown-and-bitter (I like brown and bitter, too, by the by) culture, sometimes people frown at slightly creamier and sweeter sippers – but not me! Anyway, the king of the dessert drinks, and an overall classic since 1916, is the Alexander, and I’m a big fan of its perfectly-balanced balance. I’ll have one fairly regularly (like, every six months or some such), but recently I was craving one and realized – GASP! – I was out of crème de cacao! What’s a boy to do? Well, I’m not one to sit around and not have a drink at all just being due to one missing ingredient. Instead of making sorrows, I make solutions! And really bad sayings, hahaha. In this case, my solution was subbing in another component that has the crème de cacao’s sweetness and flavor to the drink – though a different flavor as instead of chocolate, see, I went nutty, with Dumante Verdenoce pistachio liqueur. Really! Made with care in Italy using Sicilian pistachios, it’s a lush sipper and goes perfectly with gin and cream here. Perfectly I say! The combo retains the original’s smooth velvety-ness, with the gin accents and now some nutty nuttiness. Lovely! Especially when topped with a shake of cinnamon sugar, which I did!
1 ounce gin
1 ounce heavy cream
1 ounce Dumante Verdenoce pistachio liqueur
Shake of cinnamon sugar
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add our trio (gin, cream, liqueur). Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Give a little shake of cinnamon sugar over the drink. Yum it up.
April 9, 2019
Traveled up a bunch of floors to the Fog Room not too long ago (in the grand scheme of schemes), which is a bar on the top floor of the Charter Hotel downtown here in Seattle. While there, I had a tasty drink called The Whisper in the Wind, a lovely number created by the Fog Room’s Jesse Cyr, who is a swell shaker here in Seattle. Then I wrote about it for the superb Seattle magazine. And now you can read all about the Whisper in the Wind (and make it, if you want, as there’s a recipe).
April 5, 2019
It’s April, so you might be thinking – why would anyone want to be in bed by 10 p.m. when spring is starting to spring, and the light is slowly shedding more light on the day? But hey, some of us still have to work, and age weighs heavy on shoulders, and, well, I like to go to bed early-ish and read (comics), and maybe have a sip here and there while I read. And this is a sweet drink for being in bed at this time, due to its usage of The Bitter Truth Pink Gin, a beautiful combining of well-crafted gin and aromatic bitters (and you know you can trust the Bitter Truth folks when it comes to that), combined with orange juice (good to citrus up before bed, as it’s healthy and all), an egg white (which bring a lovely nighttime texture, as well as a bit of protein), and simple syrup – that kiss of sweetness you want before tucking yourself in for a night of sweet, sweet, dreams. Now you may want to go to bed a little early with one of these, too!
The We Have to Be in Bed by 10 P.M.
1-1/2 ounces The Bitter Truth Pink Gin
1 ounce freshly squeezed orange juice
1 egg white
1/2 ounce simple syrup
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the Pink Gin, orange juice, egg white, and simple syrup. Shake really well.
2. Strain (through a fine strainer if you have one) into a cocktail glass. Drink and dream.
April 2, 2019
Hello spring-flingers! Guessing you’ve been so busy with all the getting ready for the changing of the seasons that you may have missed a few of my latest pieces from the magnificent Seattle magazine (by the way, I know you – yes, you – haven’t probably missed any pieces, but a few others may have, so, you know). But don’t worry if you have – I’m here to help! Below are easy to click on hyperlinks for you to catch up (and while some may be seasonal for seasons past, they still contain delicious drinks).
March 26, 2019
Way, way, back in the balmy days of 2009, I had a Cocktail Talk post from A.A. Fair, and went through how he was actually a nom de plume
(as they say) of Erle Stanley Gardner, at one time the biggest selling writer around thanks to his books about a certain lawyer named Perry Mason! You can see how I feel about all of that by reading past Erle Stanley Gardner Cocktail Talks
(short version: oddly enough, I tend to like the show better than the books, though they aren’t bad, and tend to have great covers, and I like the A.A. Fair books better for some reason). Here, though, is the neat thing about The Knife Slipped
. It was a lost manuscript, rejected at one time by Gardner’s publisher, and only recently re-found and published by the happening folks at Hard Case Crime. It’s a good read, too, staring Cool and Lam (Donald Cool and Bertha Lam), a detective team, and the book stands out as an early mystery for this detecting duo, giving more history around them, and just being a swell read on every side. Well worth picking up, whether you sit with me on the Gardner questions or not. And, there are slugs of Scotch.
“Dance,” I said.
Her voice was wistful. “Uh-huh. The floor is build out over the side hill, on an enclosed porch. You dance out from the tables onto this porch and look down over the city lights. They keep it almost dark out there, just a starlight effect.”
“It won’t be starlight tonight,” I said, “but a good shot of Scotch might help. How about it? Do you feel the same way about a slug of Scotch I do?
She hesitated a minute, and said, “I don’t know.”
–A.A. Fair/Erle Stanley Gardner, The Knife Slipped
March 22, 2019
As spring continues shaking off winter, and the world continues its slow movements, various plants are springing up and blooming and peeking through the cold and snow (if you still have snow) and such. One of which – which really, toughs it out pretty well throughout the earth’s whirls – for me is rosemary. I have, as do lots up here, lots of rosemary. And while it’s fragrant and a nice herb to have around, sometimes, you have to think outside the box to decide what to do with it all. So: rosemary simple syrup! Or making a giant rosemary robot. I tend to go for the former, but if you go for the latter, okay! So, rosemary simple, which goes perfectly with rum and herbal-sipper Becherovka from the Czech Republic. So, if you have a little rosemary happening, now you know what to do with it.
Atomula (with the recipe from Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz)
1-1/2 ounces dark rum
1 ounce Becherovka
1/2 ounce rosemary simple syrup (see A Note below)
Rosemary sprig, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the rum, Becherovka, and rosemary simple syrup. Shake well.
2. Strain the mixture into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the rosemary sprig.
A Note: To make rosemary simple syrup add 1 cup fresh rosemary leaves, 2½ cups water, and 3 cups sugar to a medium-size saucepan. Stirring occasionally, slowly bring the mixture to a simmer over medium-low to medium heat. Then lower the heat a bit, keeping the mixture at a simmer for 5 minutes. Turn off the heat, and let the syrup completely cool in the pan. Strain through cheesecloth or a very fine strainer, and then store in an airtight container in the refrigerator.
March 19, 2019
I recently discovered Cyril Hare, the English mystery author and judge (his real name was Alfred Alexander Gordon Clark, too, which is quite a mouthful), and have now read a couple of his books, and (like many of the best English authors of his time) they tend to be well-plotted, not-overwrought in any kind of distracting way, and full of characters written perfectly, as well as providing an insight into English small towns and such. When the Wind Blows
(which some consider the highest Hare) is a good place to start if the above entices you, or if you like orchestras, as it takes place around an orchestra in a mid-sized English town. Also, there’s whiskey (as the below shows us), and a few folks happy to take a tipple even if this takes place in the lean post-WW II years.
“I have never been able to understand,” said MacWilliam, looking meditatively at the glass in his hand, “why, in these days of shortages and rationing, it should be considered perfectly proper for guests to bring with them morsels of tea and sugar and disgusting little packets of margarine for the benefit of their hosts, while it is taken for granted that they should be supplied ad libitum with substances far more precious – if you will forgive my mentioning it – a great deal more expensive. Now I don’t much care for tea and hardly take any sugar, but I do – as you may conceivably have observed – drink an appreciable quantity of whisky of an evening. I repeat, therefore, I have left two bottles for you in the hall.”
–Cyril Hare, When the Wind Blows