Make no mistakes ya mo’rons (I’m just saying “mo’rons” for alliteration by the way–I know you are Einsteins), I’m mad for Maker’s Mark bourbon. It’s an old standby for me, and something I consume on a regular basis, especially when in a dive-y lounge in the back of a Chinese restaurant you’d never eat in, or in a bar frequented by fishermen, or in a Karaoke dive that has a pirate theme. These are places I’m known and happy to be in, but not places where the bartender is gonna whip up some fancy cocktail–but where they will pour you a helluva stiff drink. In these spots, I usually head for the Maker’s and ginger ale (with a lime and some bitters when available), cause it’s a rock steady reliable consumable, or a nice Miller High Life (the Champagne of beers) and a little Maker’s on the rocks. Up until recently, I thought of Maker’s as the perfect mid-range bourbon, a longtime bourbon for the (drunken) people, a very democratic drink. And then I came across the below ad. I guess that I was wrong. Turns out Maker’s was at one time aimed at yachtsmen and fellas who think $50 isn’t much for a haircut. Thank gawd I was born once the bourbon market had found a lower level.

After having a spread in Penthouse, I wasn’t sure my happiness could get any higher (well, outside of someone making a Dr. Strange movie with Neilalien directing), but then pal and bartending genius and good-natured fella Andrew Bohrer put me in the best blog post ever, which is on his blog Cask Strength. It’s all about bartending-and-cocktailian-and-drinking-and-drink-writing folk that Andrew has met or sipped with or had to throw out of his bar, people that he has now artistically made into Lego people. It’s amazing and I was lucky enough to be Lego’d in it. Not only did he get me little lego shorts and a nice shirt (and matched my hairstyle) but he said “always showing off his legs and books”–that, I love. There are also many other Lego’d drinky folks, including amazing people like the King, Dale DeGroff, and Paul Clarke from the Cocktail Chronicles. You should check it out right now, not only for the Lego-ing madness, but also for Andrew’s humor and writing style, too. He will have you laughing all the way to the bar.

Dear Readers-

I never thought it could happen to me. But there I was, in a fancy New York eatery, slurping up noodles and sipping a drink, when across the table this woman started making eyes at me, looking at me in a questioning way that I, from the beginning, completely understood (sometimes you just get that feeling, you know). She was wondering “is he ever going to answer the damn question, or just sit there staring dreamily at his cocktail?” See, the woman was the charming bartender-and-drink-writer Meaghan Dorman (who writes the saucy blog Spirit Me Away, and is head bartender at the smoove Raines Law Room), who was nice enough to interview me for Penthouse Magazine. We talked all about the Dark Spirits, and the super rad interview is now out, in the new issue of said magazine–the March 2010 Penthouse issue, that is. So, you have an excuse to buy Penthouse (certain gentlemen are already sprinting to the newsstand, they’re so excited to read the interview. And see my centerfold). The best part? You can honestly say, “I’m buying it for the articles.”

Yrs lovingly-

A.J.

Aw, the good life. I like the idea of the good life (though I have to imagine that it’s slightly different for everyone, but have to hope that for at least 95.47% of the people it involves having a drink with friends at least once in a while). And it seems others, even with their varied and various definitions like the idea of the good life, too. So much so that there is now a very handy, attractive, and fun website out there called The Good Life Report, that talks about dining, drinks, travel, wellness, and more items one might associate with living goodly, usually focused around a particular city or place or event or situation. Good things. Things I like. Which is why I was tickled when they wanted to use my Sazerac recipe for the most recent report (and pal Melissa Punch’s fantastic photo of said Sazerac), the one from Dark Spirits. Go check it out. And, if you like the good life,  too (and really, who likes the bad life? Outside of Doctor Doom?), sign up for their newsletter, and get the good life delivered to your inbox.

PS: Bonus points (meaning, a drink on me next time we’re together) for anyone who can pick out the extra sentence or two that are in the Good Life Report Sazerac intro paragraphs but not in Dark Spirits. That’s a challenge people.

Washington State, historically, hasn’t been known for its relaxed liquor laws or an immense selection in its liquor stores (just the opposite, and mainly because all the liquor stores are state owned, thereby killing competition and any free market system. Freakin’ commies). But lately, this arid situation has started to change, with more intriguing brands and spirits and such appearing on shelves, and more local products being distilled, stilled, made, imported, and distributed. Recently, I was able to share a sweet evening with the fine folks at Pür Spirits (those fine folks being Kiki, Harvey, and Olli), who fall into the “importing” category of that last sentence, and who are helping to put Washington on the cocktail enthusiast’s travel itinerary.

Pür Spirits consists of a line of liqueurs and base spirits (more or less) imported from Germany. As they say on the site (which I’m copying in so I don’t get it wrong):

Each variety of Pür Spirits is produced according to traditional principles by a 3rd generation artisan distiller in a remote village in southern Germany. Our time-honored recipes have been passed down and refined over decades, if not centuries.

 

Now, that’s what I tend to like (tradition, family, refinement, and lots of booze). The line up as it is today (though I was lucky enough to taste some other possible additions, including a dandy winter liqueur that was orangey and herbally) includes two Pür Likörs: Blossom (an elderflower liqueur that is rich with floral and spring-in-the-forest overtones), Williams (a pear liqueur that has a fine pear flavor and goes light—thankfully—on the sweet), and three Pür Geists: Framboise (which is called a raspberry-flavored vodka, but which is better than other bottles claiming that title), Sloe (which is a sloe-berry flavored vodka, in name, but a sloe-berry gin in reality, because it has a much more interesting taste than a  normal flavored vodka), and Bierbrand, a distillation of beer aged in a chestnut cask. If that last one doesn’t intrigue you, you should stick to drinking water. Here’s the whole family:

Currently, the Pür Spirits line is only available in Washington State (expansion plans are in the planning stages, but since they only hit the market last November, we get to have bragging rights for a bit). Which means you should come out here right away and try them all, then buy some and take them back to wherever you’re from. Many of the top local drinking holes are serving them up and mixing them up in strange and beautiful ways, too. Oh, and beyond lighting up the palate (meaning: they taste delish), the bottle design is graceful and artistic, making them dandy presents. Just check out the Bierbrand close up:

Pretty, isn’t it? So, come to WA and find your way to Pür-ity (did I really only make two “Pür” puns? That’s weak. Forgive me).

PS: Wait, you say you already live here? Then aren’t you lucky–you just need to find your way to a liquor store or bar. Right now!

Okay, full disclosure straight up: the bar manager at the new (as opposed to the older version from a few years ago) Mistral Kitchen in Seattle is a pal of mine. A good pal, even. His name’s Andrew Bohrer, and I’ve blogged about him before, cause he makes damn good drinks, and isn’t all snooty about it (and his blog Cask Strength is full of booze and cursing, which is nice). Heck, I’ve heard him praise PBR as casually as Pappy’s 15-Year bourbon. Here he is, getting busy with pouring:

This all means that when wife Nat and I went to Mistral recently (during the “soft opening” phase) we were probably going to be pretty forgiving, if needed. But to get around the whole “of course you’ll say nice things, you know them” I’m going to keep commentary at a minimum, and go the photogenic route (which is great for me, cause I’m, well, hot and so inclined to like the photogenic route). The quick summary, though, before the photos (did you think I’d back out of editorializing completely?): the savory food was still being worked out, but solid ingredient choices, if pretty straightforward preparations (this on the veggie side); the dessert-y food was interesting and delicious and architectural and a step above the savory right now; the cocktail food was, well, great. Now, onward. We had some roasted veggies, but they weren’t as good as the wood-roasted mushrooms:

And we had a vinaigrette’d green salad (good, but pretty spare), which wasn’t as good as the cheese plate:

With the meal, Nat had an Aviation cocktail (we both went classically at first, picking off the old-school short bar menu), which was dreamy and cloudy like a cloudy dream:

I had the Mint Julep, which was made just right, with the right crackity-cracked ice, the right metal julep cup, and the right healthy amount of bourbon. Pretty, even:

For dessert, we had the Ultra Brownie, and it was ultra creamy chocolate goodness, but topped, I felt, by the Walnut Honey Cake (the desserts, made by chef Neil Robertson, both kicked sugary ass though), which came with rich figs and homemade (natch) chestnut ice cream:

With desserts, Nat had a fresh cocktail that Andrew had recently been working on (as an aside: isn’t it always swell to be able to be one of the first to taste a new drink? I think it’s swell), which mixed 1 ounce gin, 1/2 ounce kirsch, 1 ounce blanc (not dry) vermouth, and 1/2 ounce orgeat. It was really jumping (or frolicking) with the balance of dry to sweet right on. And, he called it the Tauntaun. Geeks, rejoice:

For my last drink, I had a Fernet Old Fashioned, which Andrew had been telling me about, and about who originally created it, but now I can’t find the email. Maybe he’ll be so kind as to leave the info and the instructions in the comments. Though he is busy. But not that busy (so get to it, Andrew). Anywho, before starting an online booze war, let me say that I dig Fernet, and this drink was the tops. I love the phat orange rind, and the ice ball, and the bitter-after-dinner experience that is summed up in this glass:

That’s the Mistral Kitchen kids, well worth a visit, especially if you belly up to the bar and let the cocktails roll. Just be sure to order a drink with an orange peel:

It’s not only the holiday season, but the holiday party season, and everyone wants their party to shine like a star in the party universe, outshining all others. With this in mind, let me point you to a recent interview I did with the fantastic website The City Cook, talking about seasonal soirées and how to make your party bring the goodness to the masses of goodness-needing party-goers. The interview hits on party planning, glassware, snacks, shopping, and much more (including Keats, cause really, what’s a holiday party without Keats? Pretty sad, is what). Since The City Cook is the “ultimate guide for pathetically busy, space-compromised urban dwellers who prefer to cook at home,” there is also a focus on having a party in a smaller space–and, I believe there is no reason not to host a happening holiday bash if you live in an apartment or condo or closet-under-the-stairs. So head on over to The City Cook to read the holiday party details and get ready to have people singing your party praises this season. And while you’re there,  check out some of the site’s tasty recipes, helpful hints, shopping advice, and fun podcasts (just don’t spend so much time there you forget to plan buy the booze for your own party).

PS: Yes, I also posted about this on the other blog I post for sometimes when I’m posting. And yes it is the holiday season–so spare me some cheer, and don’t frown about the double posting.

I was recently in NYC (you may have heard of the town—nice place), and had lots of drinks I’ve been meaning to blog about (but this silly holiday season keeps getting in the way) with many fine folks (who I should also blog about). But one of the most fun sit-downs was a lunch interview I had with drinks writer Meaghan Dorman at Republic. Really, “interview” sounds  a bit formal, cause we mostly just gabbed about everything under the sun (with a slight emphasis on Dark Spirits), a gabfest she’s going to miraculously transcribe into a Penthouse article (which you can pick up I think in March–just for the articles, of course). Meaghan’s not only a dandy freelance drinks-and-spirits writer, but also writes the super-cool-and-packed-with-boozy-goodness blog Spirit Me Away, and (if that wasn’t enough) is the head bartender at the speakeasylicious Raines Law Room. Now, everywhere under the tipsy sun seems speakeasy-esque these days, but Raines has such a lovely sort-of renaissance romance vibe, and such an interesting “bar-without-a-bar” layout that it really stands out. So, go check it out when you’re in the big city, and visit Meaghan on her blog, but first look at her sip this Blood Orange Mojito and think about what a happy bunch drink writers tend to be.

Well, some may know this already, and I’m not such a good “blow-my-own-horn” guy, so I’m going to keep this sorta short: my  new book Dark Spirits: 200 Classy Concoctions Starring Bourbon, Brandy, Scotch, Whiskey, Rum and More is out, and ready for you to take it home, drink with it, and cuddle with it (well, at least pet it a little). The basic overview of the books is that it’s a bunch of dark-spirit based recipes broken out into seven fun (one hopes, at least) thematic chapters: Dark Classics, Bartender’s Choice, Bubbly Refreshers, Dim the Lights–Chill the Cocktails, Dark Drinks That Go Bump in the Night, Powerful Punches, and Hot Stuff. All the recipes are surrounded by what I like to think of as “party talk,” so histories, stories, quotes, suggestions for specific occasions, facts, further readings, and genial cocktail chatter. Also, as with a few of my other books, it has stunning and wonderful and wondrous photos taken by award-winning genius photographer Melissa Punch. While all that’s good and well, to complete my little sales pitch (see, I’m bad at this), I’ve decided to bulletize a few salient points:

• Has two drinks in it (Sweet Louise, Very Old Fashioned) by bartender-about-town-and-serious-vest-wearer Andrew Bohrer

• Has a George Brett mention in at least one recipe and the world’s best Football Punch recipe (that’s for the Kansan sports fans)

• Has two Mighty Boosh call outs, two Robots in Disguise call outs, and one Matt Berry call out (that’s not an outrage at all)

• Has recipes by two Jeremy’s (Holt and Sidener), a Hess (Robert) a Pingleton (Ken), and a Paul (Clarke)

• Has 35 recipes ideal for those days and nights when you and your specific other want to get “romantic”

• Has a host of obscure literary and comic book references (though the Dr. Strange lines were sadly cut during editing–Neilalien will not buy this book), including the most obscure of all, a quote from Fandral from the 1976 issue of Marvel Spotlight, Marvel Spotlight on Warriors Three in the Rob Roy recipe

• Has the phrase “the drink just wants that belly scratched” on page 221

• Has shout outs to these four musical hot numbers: Truck Stop Love, Zoom, Warlock, and Tom Waits

• Has a mention of you at some point in the book.

Okay, maybe that last one’s pushing it, but hey, Dark Spirits just might have you in it. And if not, you can certainly pretend. It’s available now at Amazon, and if you don’t want to buy it there, check out this page for more options. And let me just thank you in advance for the support, and for keeping me well-stocked in booze. And, let me tempt you with one more item below, the fabulous pic for the Crimson Slippers (won’t you be sad if you don’t have a book with that picture in your collection? I think so).

PS: Oh, could you (if you’re a facebook-er, and haven’t yet), also please become a fan of me on my A.J. Rathbun facebook fan page? If not, the PR guy at my publisher is going to beat me with a tape recorder. And I can’t take the scars.

Okay, maybe I should have gone with the “Shaking and/or Stirring Writer Alert,” as in the below pic Mr. Regan is making a drink, and not actually drinking a drink. But, I promise you he did, indeed, drink one of the drinks he made. I promise. And, to be honest, I just wanted to have more than one “Drinking Writer Alert” (the first being the happy-go-luckiest poet, Ed Skoog, in this post) and hadn’t yet been sent any other pictures of drinking writers. So there.

And, Gary (or Gaz, as he’s now known from Tempe to Timbuktu) definitely fits the “Drinking Writer” name, as you probably know. But on the off chance you don’t, he’s one of the foremost drink writers in the world (the universe, even. The multi-verse, even , for you who’ve read a lot of What If? comics). The below picture was actually snapped at an evening celebrating his newest book, the bartender’s GIN compendium. I detail the book in more in-depth fashion on this Al Dente blog post, but in case your finger’s broken and you don’t feel like clicking, let me give you, as they say, the skinny. The bartender’s GIN compendium is a sweet book all about gin: history of gin, 250 recipes (or more) utilizing gin, and tasting notes and information on many, many specific kinds of gin and gin cousins and gin uncles and aunts, and gin pets, even. It’s a book for gin lovers, natch, but also a book for cocktail lovers, history lovers, and genial drunks who know how to read. Mr. Gary/Gaz Regan not only knows his gin (and drinks), but also is a darn witty fellow, and almost as fun to read as it was to meet him in person (but not quite: ain’t nothing like the real thing, as the song reminds us).

Which, to reiterate, I did, recently, at a lovely evening sponsored by the fine folks at Plymouth Gin. Beyond just talking gin, we hit the underground tour in Seattle (prostitute talk a’poppin, as it seems Seattle was once all prostitutes and mud), and then wound up at the Rob Roy. Which is where Gaz made himself and me (and Mr. Robert Hess, too) the drink he’s making below. The only down side? I don’t know exactly what drink it is–and it was darn good. It had gin, for sure. Vermouth? You bet. Bitters? Uh-huh. But what proportions? And did he pour in anything else? It was tasty, but darn it, I didn’t watch closely enough. Now, I’m going to have to track him down and have him make me another. Wait, that doesn’t sound bad at all.