It’s hard to believe that there could be two more beautifully booze-y quotes from this Ed McBain book, quotes as good as those below, but I’m going to say, drink in hand raised to the sky, that these may be as good. At least, they manage to mention a whole array of classic mixes—and both mention the Zombie. Is there another book (outside of drink books, duh) that mentions the rum’d out Zombie twice? I have my doubts (but would be happy to be pointed in the direction of another one). Does this mean you should be sure to have rums on hand when you read the Gutter and the Grave? Well, of course.
It was Park Avenue mixed with the slums, it was cocktail parties and pool parlors, theater openings and all-night movies on Forty-Second Street. It was her world and mine, mixed like a Zombie, four thousand kinds of rum, but blended because underneath the exotic name it was all rum.
The man handling our table wondered back. ‘Sir, the bartender says he is not equipped to make hot rum toddies, sir. He suggests, if you care for rum, a Planter’s Punch, or a Cuba Libre, or a Zombie.’
Ed McBain is one of those mystery, noir, hard edged, cop story, suspense, and pretty much every other word related to the genre where drinks are had more often than not writers (he writes enough that he has to write under a variety of names, even). He’s had a whole little library of books, many of which I could read anytime I had a shot of whiskey alongside me. This particular book was re-released by the genius back-alley folks at Hard Case crime, and has more drinking (and much more interesting conversation) than the parking lot at the college football game. Heck, there’s enough that I’m going to break the quotes into two parts, starting with these two boozy gems, the first a drinking manifesto (which hopefully will bring back the term “ossified”) and the second a dreamy drinkers dream:
I drink because I want to drink. Sometimes I’m falling down ossified, and sometimes I’m rosy-glow happy, and sometimes I’m cold sober—but not very often. I’m usually drunk, and I live where being drunk isn’t a sin, though it’s sometimes a crime when the police go on a purity drive.
I was sitting in the park thinking of cool civilized drinks, like Tom Collins and Planter’s Punches and then thinking about what I’d drink—an uncool, uncivilized pint of cheap booze.
To begin the New Year, the new season of the Good Spirit Cocktail to Cocktail Hour has an extra-fantastic episode, just for you. It boasts an extra-fantastic special guest: home entertainer deluxe, musical madman, media master, really, he’s a genre spanner, Mr. Mark Butler. Mark traveled all the way to the Cocktail to Cocktail studios just to teach us, and you, how to make the mysterious (Midwestern mysterious, that is) Occidental cocktail—the ideal treat for 2011 (even if it was featured in Dark Spirits a few years back). Put it on your menus people, and enjoy.
Not too long ago, I was lucky enough to be able to play around with making drinks that feature Washington State cider-maker Tieton’s ciders. Operating out of the Yakima, WA area, Tieton ciders utilize all-natural ingredients, are made with care, and are starting to be more and more widely available. The ingredients and care are evident when drinking them, too, as they boast clear, crisp taste (which is what you want in your ciders—stay away from those overly sugary messes). At first, I was a little unsure about what I’d mix up with them, but after taking a few sips my unsure-ness re-routed straight into excitement. The following are my two favorite Tieton mixes. So, head down to your store and pick up some Tieton cider (or head down to complain that they don’t yet have them) and then cocktail up.
Harmony in C
Ice cubes
1-1/2 ounces dark rum
3/4 ounces Grand Marnier
1 dash Peychauds bitters
2 ounces chilled Tieton Wild Washington apple cider
Apple slice, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the rum, Grand Marnier, and bitters. Shake well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Top with the Tieton Blend apple cider. Stir briefly and carefully. Garnish with the apple slice.
Tieton Highball
Ice cubes
1 ounce applejack or apple brandy
3/4 ounce Benedictine
2 dashes Fee Brother peach bitters
Chilled Tieton Blend apple cider
Mint sprig, for garnish (optional)
Apple slice, for garnish (optional)
1. Fill an Old Fashioned glass three quarters full with ice cubes. Add the applejack, Benedictine, and bitters. Stir briefly.
2. Fill the glass almost to the rim with Tieton Blend apple cider. Stir again, briefly. Garnish with a mint sprig and an apple slice, if desired.
Here we are (after a little delay due to French, Italian, and Russian TV censor problems) with Episode Two of the new season of the Good Spirit Cocktail to Cocktail Hour, hosted by me. In this episode, I take over the mixing duties (and the “wearing-painful-garlands” duties) and show how to make an Eden Cocktail. The Eden is a sparkling wine drink, with rum, Campari, fruit juices, and bubbly. It’s ideal for the holiday season, so let’s call this the C2C holiday special! Oh, there’s swearing in here (it is the holidays), but it’s bleeped out. So, play the video for the kiddies as the Yule log burns and as you load up on holiday puddings. And a ho, ho, ho to you, too.
Sometimes, an image just speaks for itself. Other times, there’s a rubber hand in the image, and it does the talking. On yet other times, there are two drinks that have colors you might expect to see if you hit your head on a rock—on Mars. On yet other times, you catalog bad ideas just by seeing them in print (Bacardi, a once brilliant brand, making premade cocktails that obviously must only be touched with fake hands). On yet other times, all of the above happens at once. It’s a wonder, to me, that the world didn’t implode. At least, as the ad says, “they taste like fresh tropical beauties should taste” on Mars. Well, that’s what they meant.
It’s still early for many on the West Coast (and, depending on when you read this, whichever coast you’re on, wherever you are, it may be early for you, too), especially those who are drinkers and/or criminals. I know a lot of the former, but really none (that I know about, unless you mean those that are criminally talented or something) of the latter, except those I meet in books like The Three-Way Split, by Gil Brewer, which is about a guy trying to live a simple life with some amazingly hot waitress he’s met and some treasure buried at sea he knows about, but due to his deadbeat-and-illegality-loving dad, he ends up roughed up by thugs, who also try to get the treasure. The story echoes your own life I’m sure. How does it turn around and reconnect with morning, and it being early on the West Coast? It’s the quote, below, which is about coffee and rum—a favorite breakfast for many.
He banged two pint mugs on the table, poured in steaming coffee until they were two-thirds full. Then he brought down one of those bottles of rum, black as tar, popped the cork, and filled the mugs to the brim.
He filled the plates and we ate. The rum was like a hot rasp running across the tongue.
Some days (January days, often, as it seems January is not only a cold month temperature-wise, but also a cold month life-wise, being the month of re-orgs, and silly resolutions, and uncomfortable whatnots. And if not all those actually happen, there tends to be the threat of all those, anyways) you need a bit of boozy medicine. If you’re in need, then you’ll especially like this quote from an old pulp called Murder in Havana. Which is about, funny enough, a bunch of murders in Havana, that our main character “Andy” tipsily stumbles in to (it’s not my pal Andy Sweet–who was one of the writers of Battleship, Battleship, Battleship–though it could have been, cause both are go-get-um guys). Anywho, Andy thinks that sometimes you just have to take your medicine (booze, that is). Here, see for yourself:
His bag was already on the customs bench and he opened it for a uniformed inspector who made but a cursory examination until he found the leather-covered flask. He unscrewed it, sniffed rum, grinned. ‘Medicine,’ he said. ‘Medicine.’ Andy grinned back at him and opened the briefcase.
It’s hard to believe that there could be two more beautifully booze-y quotes from this Ed McBain book, quotes as good as those below, but I’m going to say, drink in hand raised to the sky, that these may be as good. At least, they manage to mention a whole array of classic mixes—and both mention the Zombie. Is there another book (outside of drink books, duh) that mentions the rum’d out Zombie twice? I have my doubts (but would be happy to be pointed in the direction of another one). Does this mean you should be sure to have rums on hand when you read the Gutter and the Grave? Well, of course.
