October 21, 2014
Hello, is it articles and blog post by me on Seattle magazine that you’re looking for? I can see it in your eyes, I can see it in your smile, I can see it in your empty glasses . . . wait, what? Sorry, I got all Lionel’d for a sec. Anyway, in case you missed them, some recent (fun – I wouldn’t post the un-fun ones) pieces by me that you may have missed on or in Seattle magazine.
• Drink Recipes & Party Sounds on Starbucks’ New CD ‘The Cocktail Hour
• Sexism in the Distillery Industry & Why Cherry Bounce is so Good
• 27 Things You Should Never Say to a Bartender
• 4 Drinks to Celebrate the Beginning of School
• It’s Tailgating Season–Are You Ready?
*See all Seattle magazine articles by me
October 17, 2014
This is a drink from days of yore (which means, usually, with drinks, sometime in the late 1800s, early 1900s – this goes a bit on the front end) named after a beloved Russian ballet troupe that operated in Paris and sorta changed ballet and was also a fav of artist types. Also, one of the main female dancers was Tamara Karsavina, who I’m a bit fond of. What does that all mean for you, dear reader? Well, for one, now you know more about ballet, which may come in handy. Two, it means when you have a couple of these, you should plan on dancing around the room, probably in tights. Please send pics.
2 ounces Seattle Distilling Company vodka
1 ounce Sidetrack Distillery Cassis
1/2 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the vodka, cassis, and lime juice. Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a small ballet shoe.
October 14, 2014
Hey bar lovers, genial drinkers, lounge lizards, speakeasy devotees, dive dwellers, and rathskeller revelers. It’s time to trot yourselves again through my recent Seattle Magazine Bar Hop columns, which highlight select bars in the Seattle area. Get off the couch, yo, and visit:
• Elysian Bar
• Le Zinc
* See all Seattle Magazine articles by me
October 10, 2014
This drink sounds ominous. Who is the they here? Aliens? Dogs? The people of Prince Namor who live under the sea? That young couple that lives up the block and gets just a little loud with their parties sometimes? I mean, jeez, it’s a residential neighborhood people, we don’t need to hear your love of Katy Perry at midnight, do we? And could you clean up those cans of cheap light beer for gawd’s sake. Make this cocktail instead. Trust me. It’ll make your eventual rule of earth much tastier.
They Shall Inherit the Earth, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz
1/2 ounce Cointreau
1/2 ounce Bénédictine
1 ounce brandy
1 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the Cointreau, Bénédictine, brandy, and lemon juice. Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass.
October 7, 2014
I’ve had a couple Cocktail Talk posts with quotes from Peter Lovesey books, though neither books feature his Bath, UK detective Peter Diamond – who is one of my favorite fictional police detectives, both for his rotundness and his crime-solving acuity. Sadly, he’s not much of a drinker, outside of the beer. But Mr. Lovesey also writes shorter fiction, and I recently picked up his collection Do Not Exceed the Stated Dose, which feature a whole host of good whodunits and other such tales, including the one this quote is from (said quote being ideal for here due to the whiskey. But I also like the “meat raffle.”)
He lowered his face until it was inches from hers. Not even nine in the morning and she could smell sweet whiskey on his breath. “I won it, didn’t I?” he said, daring her to disbelieve. “A meat raffle in The Valiant Trooper last night.”
–Peter Lovesey, The Proof of the Pudding
October 3, 2014
I feel bad for not being much of a fisherman. Well, not usually that bad, but when I come across a bottle of one of The Fat Trout Scotches, which have fish on the bottles and which are a line of “sportsman’s Scotches,” then I feel a little bad. Until I realize there’s no need for actually going to the trouble of fishing (I realize, fishing folk, that for many it’s no trouble at all – good for you, if you’re one of them), and that I can enjoy the Scotch and just tell fish stories. One time, I caught this great white shark . . .
Anywho, a bottle of the Fat Trout blended Scotch (there are also Lowland and Speyside single malt versions) showed up the other day, and led to all this fish musing. It’s a tasty blend, too, with hints of smoke and spice and grain all mingling together. A fine thing to have neat or on the rocks. But also a fine thing when put into a drink with other items. Example A: The Fat Fisherman. To follow up a fall theme (it being fall and all), I mixed the Fat Trout with a cider, Tieton’s Dry Hopped cider (from here in WA) to be exact, which is a fine fall drink. But it was missing something . . . until I added a healthy dollop of Yzaguirre red vermouth, a type of what most would think of as sweet vermouth. Coming from Spain, this vermouth has a snazzy herbalness and a dash of balsamic flavor that went perfectly with the Scotch and cider.
The Fat Fisherman
2 ounces Fat Trout blended Scotch
1 ounce Yzaguirre red vermouth
4 ounces Tieton Dry Hopped cider
Apple slice, for garnish
1. Add the Scotch and vermouth to a highball or comparable glass. Stir briefly.
2. Fill the glass three-quarters up with ice cubes. Add the cider. Stir, carefully, working to bring the bottom stuff to the top and vice versa.
3. Garnish with the apple slice. Talk about fish.
September 26, 2014
In an earlier post, I talked about football, football season, and having better drinks at your football parties. My suggestion there was that you call an audible over your past party selections and serve an Audible cocktail. It’s a good plan. However, the Audible (drink) is a strong mix, and after a couple, you may need to go on the defensive, so you make it until the end of the fourth quarter, and overtime, perhaps. With that in mind, at some point when the emotion is high, move to The Defensive Formation, which will refresh and perhaps balance things out. It still has a strong kick, but it’s mellowed some — but it could still hit the game-winning field goal from 45 out as time ticks down. Don’t think that it can’t.
The Defensive Formation
2 ounces Woodinville Whiskey bourbon
1/2 ounce Letterpress limoncello
3/4 ounce orange juice
2 dashes Scrappy’s orange bitters
3 ounces chilled soda water
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add the bourbon, limoncello, orange juice, and bitters. Stir well.
2. Fill a highball or other comparable glass three-quarters up with ice cubes. Strain the mix from Step 1 through a fine strainer over the ice and into the glass.
3. Fill the glass almost to the top with the club soda. Stir to combine. Drink and cheer, drink and cheer.
September 23, 2014
I recently picked up a couple Trollope books I hadn’t read before (which is rare – if you don’t know of my Trollopean love, go check out past Trollope Cocktail Talks), thanks to Powell’s, and as long-time readers of this here blog could guess, I was super excited to find them. Both because I could happily read Trollope all day long, and because the books tend to contain a nice bit of Cocktail Talk, too. For example, one of the books was Ralph the Heir, about a somewhat ne’er-do-well running into trouble before some inheritance kicks in, along with being about his much nicer cousins, and how they all end up and with who. It’s fantastic, really. But having a ne’er-do-well means, naturally, that there’s some time spent in clubs and bars, which leads to the below quote – one of the best about how service is sometimes driven.
Mrs. Horsball got out from some secluded nook a special bottle of orange-brandy in his favour – which Lieutenant Cox would have consumed on the day of its opening, had not Mrs. Horsball with considerable acrimony declined to supply his orders. The sister with ringlets smiled and smirked whenever the young Squire went near the bar. The sister in ringlets was given to flirtations of this kind, would listen with sweetest complacency to compliments on her beauty, and would return them with interest. But she never encouraged this sort of intimacy with gentlemen who did not pay their bills, or with those whose dealings with the house were not of a profitable nature. The man who expected that Miss Horsball would smile upon him because he ordered a glass of sherry and bitters or half-a-pint of pale ale was very much mistaken; but the softness of her smile for those who consumed the Moonbeam Champagne was unbounded. Love and commerce with her ran together, and regulated each other in a manner that was exceedingly advantageous to her brother.
–Anthony Trollope, Ralph the Heir