October 30, 2011
Just in time for you kooky fright-fest adult trick-and-treaters, let me present the latest on the Good Life Report, a recipe and such for the Sleepy Hollow cocktail. It’s an ideal Halloween party drink, one that matches both the spooky-fun nature of the holiday and (just in case you’re not reading the article on October 31st exactly) the season. It mixes gin, apricot liqueur, mint, lemon, and a hint of simple syrup (to match up with the candy and such the real kiddies get) into a mix that’s not scary at all, but good enough that you might just lose your head over it. So, get on over there and read the Sleepy Hollow up.
PS: Can’t get enough Halloween cocktails? Watch me make a Warlock cocktail and turn into a demon.
August 30, 2011
Everyone (and I mean everyone) knows that I like reading Anthony Trollope. Heck, I’m the president of the “Bring Back Trollope in Zombie Form to Write More Books” club. And I’ve had some Trollope quotes on here before, cause he likes to slip in some drinks and pubs and such into his books. Or, I should say, liked (at least until Zombie Trollope). He wrote loads of books, and I’m slowly reading them all (and re-reading some). Recently, I picked up a lesser known ear;y-ish Trollope number called The Three Clerks, and liked it plenty. Especially because it was about three, well, clerks, of a youngish age, and so as they were living la vida loca circa 1874, they imbibed quite a bit. The book has mention of three kinds of gin (regular, Hollands, and Old Tom), rum, brandy, the Bishop, and even the Mint Julep (and more that I don’t have space to mention). Amazing. It was hard to pin down what quotes to post here, but I went with the below two, the first cause seeing a Mint Julep mentioned in an 1800s English novel is rare and the second cause I like the word “hogshead.” Just know that if you read the book (which I suggest) you’ll find many, many others.
One man had on an almost new brown frock coat with a black velvet collar, and white trousers. Two had blue swallow-tailed coats with brass buttons; and a fourth, a dashing young lawyer’s clerk from Clement’s Inn, was absolutely stirring a mixture, which he called a Mint Julep, with a yellow kid glove dangling out of his hand.
In person, Captain Cuttwater was a tall, heavy man, on whose iron constitution hogsheads of Hollands and water seemed to have no very powerful effect.
—The Three Clerks, Anthony Trollope
PS: One more great non-booze quote from the book (cause I like you, reader): “He is as vulgar as a hog, as awkward as an elephant, and as ugly as an ape.”
August 11, 2011
Stopped in with pal Andrew (he of the mighty Cask Strength) and wife Nat to Oliver’s Twist the other night, and had a few fine tasting drinks courtesy of English gin. See, Andrew (when he’s not mixing drinks) is an evangelist of sorts for English Gins (a group consisting of Plymouth and Beefeater gins I believe), an English Gins Connoisseur if you want to be formal, and so he was happy to buy us a few drinks if we’d listen to him talk up the gins. Heck, we’d probably listen to him talk about anything from the Misfits teevee show to the blue-eyed idol of millions if he’d buy us drinks. Especially when the drinks were as tasty as these’uns. I started with a drink of his own making called the Signal to Noise:
It had Plymouth gin, a smooch of lime juice and a smooch of orgeat and a dash of Angostura. It really allowed the gin to shine, which I dug immensely. Nat started with something off the house board, the Jasmine (which in this incarnation I believe combined gin with Cointreau, Campari, and lemon):
We both followed up with a drink created by Robert, who was our handy bartender. I believe it had gin, Aperol, and a few other choice ingredients, but know for a fact it was very icy and refreshing and sippable:
Nat had another of those un-named beauties for her final cocktail, while I headed back in time to a recent un-buried favorite (which is in this cocktail book that comes out soon-ish), the Bijou, which brings together sweet vermouth and green Chartreuse with gin and a twist:
All-in-all, my thanks to the dedicated men and women who make English gins, plus thanks to Andrew and Robert, too, for providing us with a delish evening.
December 14, 2010
This vacationing vandal special is, in a big way, a liquid shout out to pals Markie B and Andy S. See, these two fine gentleman (and their wives) came with us the last time we were in Italy (way back in April 2009), and during that trip we discovered the somewhat illusive Viparo. You can read my plea for this Italian amaro here, and learn more about our adventures on that trip. On this trip, I was excited to try and track down this evasive elixir, and then when walking into some big new market/grocery/superstore a couple weeks back there it was, staring down at me–a whole display of new bottles of Viparo. Naturally, I picked one up and now it, along with Italian stalwart Aperol, features big in the below drink. The others players are gin (which starts the story behind the name, as I was picturing the drinker as a British stagecoach robber on vacation) and clementine juice (I found a bunch of clementine’s recently)—everything together equals a fine escape:
Ice cubes
1-1/2 ounce gin
1 ounce freshly squeezed clementine juice
1/2 ounce Viparo
1/2 ounce Aperol
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin, juice, Viparo, and Aperol. Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass or little wine glass or flagon. Drink up.
A Note: Can’t find clementine’s? You could sub in orange juice instead. Call it Highwayman’s Parole.
A Second Note: You might want to strain this through a fine strainer to avoid citrus bits in teeth. But no real robber would care about that much.
Tags: Aperol, clementine, cocktail recipe, Gin, Highwayman’s Holiday, Italian drinks, Italian Liqueurs, Viparo, What I'm Drinking
Posted in: Almost Drinkable Photo, Aperol, Gin, Italy, Liqueurs, Recipes, Viparo, What I'm Drinking
November 29, 2010
I swear, this has to be a drink already, with another name. It’s very classically minded, and an obvious relative to drinks such as that which will not be named (but which ends in “tini”). It does use rose’ vermouth, which isn’t as readily available in the U.S. as one would hope (as you might expect, it’s neither as dry as French vermouth or as herbal as Italian vermouth, or dry and sweet vermouth respectively, and light on the tongue like its namesake wine), so it might not yet be named. However, rose’ vermouth has been available then and now, maybe moreso then, even, so some variation of this (maybe with a different bitters, since the Bitter Truth, even with their classical leanings, haven’t been around that long) seems like it has to have been around. I’d check the library, but the library is in Seattle and I’m in the Italy. Some bartender or bar writer out there will, I’m sure correct me. But until then, I’m going with Da Molto Tempo, and having it lots:
Cracked ice
1-1/2 ounces gin
1/2 ounce rose vermouth
1 dash Bitter Truth Aromatic bitters
Lemon twist, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass with cracked ice. Add the gin, vermouth, and bitters. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the lemon twist.
PS: For those inquisitive ones: it means “a long time ago.”
October 1, 2010
Though it’s been orderable for a few weeks, in my mind today’s the real release date for the new bubbly book, Champagne Cocktails: 50 Cork-Popping Concoctions and Scintillating Sparklers. Why today, you ask? It’s because tonight is the effervescent evening celebrating the book’s release, with an event happening at Seattle’s rollicking-ist kitchen store, Dish It Up. If you’re in Seattle, you may even be able to still sign up (though it may be full–but hey, why not take a chance). In honor of the book and event, here’s a recipe from the book that I’ll be serving tonight at the event, a recipe for the Lavanda. Doesn’t that have a mysterious name, like a forbidden dance? The drink itself is somewhat mysterious too, or at least mysteriously delicious, thanks to the lavender simple syrup–and the gin and Prosecco of course.
Serves 2
Ice cubes
4 lavender sprigs
3 ounces gin
1-1/2 ounce lavender simple syrup (see note)
Chilled Prosecco
1. Add the flowers from the top of two lavender sprigs, the gin, and the lavender simple syrup to a cocktail shaker. Using a muddler or wooden spoon, muddle well.
2. Fill the cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Shake like a dancer.
3. Strain equally into two flute glasses. Top each with chilled Prosecco, and garnish each with a lavender sprig.
A Note: To make lavender simple syrup, add 1/4 cup chopped fresh lavender, 2 cups sugar, and 1 1/2 cups water to a medium-sized saucepan. Heat over medium-high heat until it reaches a low boil, stirring regularly. Once it reaches that low boil, reduce the heat to medium- low and keep the syrup at a simmer, still stirring, for 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool completely.
August 27, 2010
A little serious (with the seriousness of gin), but with enough fruity overtones to ensure no one gets ponderous in conversation or step, the Après Coup is easy enough to make on a whim but layered enough in flavor to support a whole party. As long as the partiers weren’t opposed to staying up late. Cause you know a drink with Maraschino is going to have you up past midnight, right? I mean, the Maraschino (and I go Luxardo, because that’s the way I roll) is all about living after midnight. So much so that Rob Halford used to carry a whole crate of bottles of tour with him. Think I’m fibbing?
Cracked ice
1-1/2 ounces gin
1 ounce Chambord
1/4 ounce Maraschino liqueur
1 dash Peychaud bitters
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass three-quarters full with cracked ice. Add the gin, Chambord, Maraschino, and bitters. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass (or, if there aren’t any clean ones left, any old glass that isn’t tattooed with lipstick or halfway full with an old drink works).
Tags: Chambord, cocktail recipe, Gin, Luxardo, Maraschino, Peychaud bitters, recipe, Rob Halford, What I Wish I Was Drinking
Posted in: Almost Drinkable Photo, Gin, Liqueurs, Recipes, What I Wish I Was Drinking
August 6, 2010
Dorothy Sayers isn’t an author I’ve read a lot of, even though she’s a mystery grande dame, whatever that means. I think it’s cause I don’t like her name (well, honesty hurts), or that having a love for one English drawing room mystery writer is enough (and I’m a Christy guy). All of which is stupid, cause not only have I enjoyed the few stories of hers that I’ve read, but she also wrote the poems, translated the divine Divine Commedia, was a generally nice lady, and her most well-known sleuth’s name is Lord Peter Wimsey. Lord Peter Wimsey is a fantastic name. So, Dorothy, here’s to me finally taking the plunge with you in a larger way, starting with this quote from her story “The Queen’s Square,” a quote I give to you cause it’s about gin and the youth of today (or everyday) who can’t get enough of that juniper stuff.
“You could,” retorted the old lady, “if you looked after your stomach and your morals. Here comes Frank Bellingham–looking for a drink, no doubt. Young people today seem to be positively pickled in gin.”
–Dorothy L. Sayers, “The Queen’s Square”
