It’s winter (at least within the latitudes I reside within), and I’m dreaming a bit of summer, of sitting outside with a cold, tall, delish beverage, far away from today’s actual chilliness. And when I dream of summer, I always like to wonder: what would androids in the future drink, if they had a head full of LSD and had been swimming? You, I’m guessing, wonder the same thing. Luckily, there’s a little pamphlet that was put out in 1976 called Summer Comfort that tells us: they drink Southern Comfort. If you don’t believe me, take a gander at the cover of said pamphlet below. Have you ever seen a better representation of drugged-up soaking wet androids? I didn’t think so.
PS: Because androids and their robot brethren and sisterthren bleed out milk, I’m guessing the actual drink from the pamphlet they’re most fond of is the “New! Cow Shot.” Which is 1-1/2 ounces Southern Comfort, 1/2 ounce crème de cacao, and 3 ounces cold milk over ice. It’s “superb, no bull!”
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:
I (along with wife Nat) got the nicest batch of ginger snaps recently from pal Jill M (her husband, pal Ed, has a book just out called Mister Skylight that you should buy, by the way). The snaps were a bit more cookie-y than many ginger snaps (so, not crisp like some traditional ginger biscuits, and nowhere near ginger nuts, or, for that matter ginger balls. And yes, I just said ginger balls. But now my traffic skyrockets), but with goodly ginger flavor and a little bit of chewiness. I liked them lots, and ate lots of them. But then I started thinking: there is a baker’s dozen of them, maybe I should make a drink using them as a garnish? This is the way my mind works. And, I was also thinking (I have up to three trains of thought at once: right now, they consist of writing this post, thinking about a post on the comics blog Progressive Ruin that combines Adam West Batman with Dark Night Batman, and musing about how the leaning tower of Pisa doesn’t fall over) that with the holiday season you might want to know about a drink that uses ginger snaps as a garnish. Cause the snaps tend to show up this time of year.
So, I wanted a ginger-y drink, but one also with some other funtastic flavors. Which led to me playing around with this VeeV Acai (it’s a super fruit!) Spirit I’d had sent to me recently and Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur. The Veev is pretty sprightly with some tropical hints, the DdeC is very gingery and touch sweet, and at first the playing around wasn’t coming out quite right–until I added ol’ reliable, sweet vermouth. Its bit of holy herbal-ness completely rounded out the edges of the other two, and all-of-sudden I was in ginger-island-holiday-paradise. I suggest you stock up on all of the ingredients so you can get to this paradise, too (and because you may just need a drink before the month’s out. The holidays aren’t all sunshine).
Ice cubes
1-1/2 ounces VeeV Acai spirit
1 ounce Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur
1/2 ounce sweet vermouth
Ginger snap or cookie, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add everything except the cookie. Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with that cookie (I had to notch it just a bit for proper rim balancing. But after that, I did a lot of dunking with it).
Well, as much as I’ve loved the Chow tips (which have been loved by Leslito and Scharrer as well, at least, cause they have good taste in tips), and loved doing the tipping with Chow folks, I have to announce this is the last one, which might be an occasion for tears (like when you watch the last episode of Garth Marenghi’s Dark Place and realize there aren’t any more episodes for reasons only the devil knows, and he ain’t telling). But, on the flip side, it’s also an occasion for joyous laughter, merriment, and drunken revelry, cause (as I mentioned below), this particular tip is the most capitally cowabungaing Chow tip laid out in lovely fashion on the liquory Spiked Punch yet: a tip for creating your own captivating limoncello. Ah, limoncello, the Italian sun god of liqueurs. I like it when I’ve eaten a lot, and when I haven’t eaten enough, when it’s mixed up in a Princess with soda and raspberries (in wife Natalie’s recipe, which you can find in Good Spirits if you need to) and when it’s served solo. I like it, period, people. And you will to, so watch this tip and get your own started today (really, do it. The store-bought stuff’s never as good. And the recipe’s from Luscious Liqueurs, if you need to read things in the old-timey traditional manner).
PS: Want to catch up on all Chow tips. Here they are: #1, #2, #3, #4.
I’m getting ready for a little Wine Cocktails evening at bar Poco here in Seattle on Thursday (more about that later–but if you must know, it’s Thursday at 7 pm and you should be there), but wanted to take a second to look back at when I was out of this fair sunny city (no laughing on the “sunny;” it’s balmy and blue-skied here) a week ago, visiting various watering holes in San Francisco. And yes, I forgot to call pal Andrew, and am sad about it, but I’ll power through just to point out the hits to you, in two part fashion. The first part is all about the cocktail’d night that wife Nat and I hung out with drinker par excellente’ Camper English (who in the below pic is savoring a broccolini stem–tre’ international).
If you don’t know the legend of Camper English, he writes the educational (and yet still entertaining—it’s edutainment. And yes, you can hit me in the head for saying that word) blog Alcademics, which is all about the cocktails, the bartending, and the booze. He also used to write Camper’s Hate Blog (which is genius, and worth going back through), and lots of other stuff (you can really learn more than you probably want at Cramper.com). He’s funny. And knows the San Francisco cocktail bars like few others. He suggested we meet at the new-ish Rickhouse, which luckily was near our hotel in the financial area, as we went there straight off the plane after checking in. The Rickhouse has a heavenly cocktail list with lots of information and drinks (sadly the actual menu was a bit too nice to steal, though we were tempted, being recidivist in our menu-stealing ways), a barrel stave ceiling (with barrel hoop lights), and a table right near the front window that we hooked. For the first round I had a Rye Maple Fizz, cause I was feeling rye-y and a drink with maple syrup hooks me like a trout on corn, Mr. English had a Laphroig Project (he’s a smoky essence enthusiast–check for this drink’s recipe here), and Nat had a Bella Fragollo, which was Italian-y goodness.
All the drinks we had there were expertly made right in front of me by the talented staff as I gazed at the immense wall of booze. Seriously (and easily believed, as they’re a sibling of the top notch liquor store Cask, so they have an “in” to booze-shelf-stocking), they have a 15-or-20-foot wall of bottles behind the bar. I went into a trance, and when I woke up I had a drink in my hand, a smile on my face, and a little slobber on the smile. Which sounds much grosser than it was.
After another round, we realized that if we didn’t eat we’d fall over (which would have bored Camper and not done much for our reps), so we went (on his suggestion–he’s a “vegetalian,” too, so finding an eating spot for all and sundry was a snap. Oh, a “vegetalian” as I found out is a cocktail-swilling vegetarian. Don’t smirk) to Beretta, in the Mission district. Baretta was, as the kids say, the stuff (well, except for our first bartender, who seemed to wearing my grandmother’s velour curtains. The second bartender was a dream, though). Waiting for our table I sipped (or gulped) an Angelina that demonstrated the bar’s grasp of balancing perfectly a few key ingredients (a sweet skill to have): Partida Anejo tequila, Carpano Antica, and Benedictine. Tasty indeed, with the tequila mingling with the other two’s herbal natures in an unexpectedly complenting manner. Nat had a Agricole Mule (rum, lime, ginger, mint, and pic’d below), and Camper had a Single Village Fix with Del Maguey Mezcal (that smoky thing again), lime, and pineapple gomme. All deliciousness, and matched in their heights by our eventual dinner, which consisted of a couple thinly Italian pizzas, some broccolini (re: Camper pic above), and some unbelievably good bruschetta topped with fava bean and pecorino puree. This thick-crisped-bread-topped-with-a-smooth-but-with-a-few-chunks spread lushed up the mouth. So good we ordered it twice. I kid you not. Let me repeat for effect: I kid you not. We had more good cocktails there and then, too, and lots of Camper talk, and finally tumbled into a cab in the best way: fat and drunkish. Thanks Camper, thanks S.F., and thank you, too (and watch for S.F. post number II soon).
I wanted to call this post “Drinking Cats” as a balance to the below two cats drinking, but then I figured I’d get all kinds of weirdo traffic flowing in (instead of the regular weirdo traffic–ba-dump-bump. I kid, I kid). And who knows if that weirdo traffic would enjoy this newly minted (or, at least, fairly newly shaken) combination of gin, absinthe, pineapple juice, and a touch of simple syrup, accented by a lemon twist if you’re feeling it. And I’m feeling it, so you should be too (said in my drunken-two-year-old voice). I say hit up the Aviation gin here if you can, cause House Spirits rocks the party. Oh, and it tastes freaking great, like a springtime daydream. I used Lucid absinthe, which is pretty darn swell, too. But if you want to play around with other gins (Bluecoat might be interesting, and Dry Fly) or absinthes (like the mighty Marteau) then start experimenting with your Panther’s Paw. It won’t bite. Though after a couple, you may feel slightly paw’d. But maybe you like that? Wait, I know the answer to that question already.
Ice cubes
1-1/2 ounce Aviation gin
1 ounce Lucid absinthe
3/4 ounce pineapple juice
1/4 ounce simple syrup
Lemon slice, for garnish (optional)
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin, absinthe, pineapple juice, and simple syrup. Shake well.
2. Strain the mix into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the lemon slice if that’s what makes your panther purr.
This fun-and-fizzy number adds effervescence to any ol’ weekend or weekday evening, or noontime, or, for that matter, breakfast (hey, it’d be great for the upcoming Memorial Day breakfast, to be topical). A combination of rum, lime juice, the delicious Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur, and a touch of simple syrup, all topped off by rosé sparkling wine, I believe if you bring this to breakfast you’ll get praised from here (or wherever you are) to Tampa. If you wear a Tarzan costume while serving the Tropicaliana, you’ll get praised from here to Tanzania. Of course, I’ve never been to Tanzania, so this is partially a guess. But I have seen you wearing a Tarzan costume, and it’s as cute as a cheetah’s spots. I mean it. Now, show a little more leg next time and we’ll be in business (not sure what kind of business, exactly, but anytime you trot out “show a little more leg” in a sentence you have to follow it up with a phrase like “next time we’ll be in business.” It’s a boozer’s law. Know what I mean? No? Ah, go drink your Tropicaliana).
Ice cubes
1 ounce white rum
1/4 ounce fresh lime juice
1/2 ounce Domaine de Canton Ginger Liqueur
1/2 ounce simple syrup
Chilled rosé sparkling wine
Lime slice, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the rum, lime juice, ginger liqueur, and simple syrup. Shake well.
2. Strain the mix into a flute. Top with the rosé sparkling wine. Garnish with that lime slice.
Well, the lovely, third installment of Italy ’09 (a newly trademarked phrase), the Upper Tiber Valley starring Nestor’s pizza, is still to come, but will have to wait another week, cause I’m heading to Boston, to celebrate the first anniversary of that delicious food- and drink-video site, How2Heroes.com. Can you believe it, just one year old and they’ve already put out some of the most rootin-est tootin-est tastiest videos around, from chefs, bartenders, writers, and genial drunkards. And, you, of course (or folks like you, since anyone can and should post videos). Anywho, for their first birthday they’re having a big ol’ party, where they’ll be serving up delights and giving away signed copies of Wine Cocktails (and yes, they’ll be signed by me. Or a proxy). And, I’ll be serving a wine cocktail too (the Bishop), as well as a sparkly drink I made just for the occasion, called the How2Heroes Celebratorio Anniversario Sparkler, or the How2Heroes Sparkler, for short. Hopefully I’ll be seeing you at the party, but if not, you should have one of these bubbly beauts on Weds to help celebrate. And the below video will show you how to make it. Doesn’t that deserve a Yay! all around? I think so.
