Here’s a wee cocktail-spoons-worth of wisdom from the hopefully not completely forgotten American pocket-pulps-and-mysteries writer Harold Q. Masur (sometimes known as Hal). I tend to agree more with the latter sentiment in his first sentence below, though I’m not necessarily opposed to a good morning drink, unless I have a long afternoon meeting (hey, no need to nap in a meeting – I like to nap on the couch). Oh, this book also has one of the finest titles I’ve ever seen. And a great cover, too. Heck, pick it up, have a Scotch, and start reading.
Generally, I don’t like to consume liquor before lunch, but drinking with a man is a good recipe for getting on his right side. Muir was in the mood to talk and I ordered double Scotches to help loosen his tongue. The time of day meant nothing to him.
I’ve been drinking up the Scotch and some Scotch cocktails, too, and just wrote about both for the good ol’ Good Life Report. Specifically, the article’s called Auchentoshan Scotch and the Rob Roy cocktail, cause the latter’s what I give a recipe for, and the former what I put in it. Though I talk about more than that, so why not head on over and read the article. You’ll dig it, and can make yourself a Rob Roy for your evening libation. Which you know you deserve.
I’m not sure if it’s January’s gloom (we’re aching for sun here in Seattle – please send us some if you live anywhere it’s sunny. Please), my continually growing love of Scotch, or the fact that I like people with accents, but I’ve been on a bit of a Rob Roy jag lately. And, funny enough, I’ve been having them mainly at the bar that shares the same name (the Rob Roy, in case you’re feeling a bit slow today). But I’ve had a couple at home, too, using the recipe from Dark Spirits. In honor of that book-I-wrote, I wanna actually quote from it, because I’m self-referential sure, but mainly because I can’t believe the fine folks at Harvard Common Press let me get away with having this in a headnote:
Remember what Fandral said in the Marvel Spotlight on Warriors Three (Marvel Spotlight Issue 30, 1976) to the guy who bugged him when he was drinking a Rob Roy (at least I think he was), “Churl! Hast thou no manners? Never interrupt a man whilst he is drinking!” In the last part of that quote “a Rob Roy” is only implied, but don’t miss the point.
The Rob Roy
Ice cubes
2-1/2 ounces Scotch
1/2 ounce sweet vermouth
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Lemon twist, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the Scotch, vermouth, and bitters. Shake thee well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the lemon twist. Methinks you’ll be happier for it.
A Variation: Wanna take a wee trek away from the Rob Roy? Switch Angostura for orange bitters, and skip to a Highland Cocktail.
Welcome back (to me, I suppose, since I haven’t blogged for a bit due to 2012 holiday cheer-ing)! There’s no better way I can think of to return to reality after a lovely holiday season than a couple Raymond Chandler quotes from one of his lesser-known beauties, The Little Sister. It’s all about Hollywood, Manhattan Kansas (really! Let’s go Kansans), ice picks, and weed. Nice, right? Oh, to ease you in, the first quote is booze-ific (or, booze-specific), but the second is just awesomely literary. Not sure, now that I think about it, how that eases you in, but I just wanted to put in the second quote. And, well, I write these posts. Happy New Year!
I went in. A gun in the kidney wouldn’t have surprised me a bit. She stood so that I had to practically push her mammaries out of the way to get through the door. She smelled the way the Taj Mahal looks by moonlight. She closed the door and danced over to a small portable bar. ‘Scotch? Or would you prefer a mixed drink? I mix a perfectly loathsome Martini,” she said. ‘Scotch is fine, thanks.’
‘What’s that?” She tried to throw me out with the point of her chin, but even she wasn’t that good. ‘Browning. The poet, not the automatic. I feel sure you’d prefer the automatic.’
There are times the cover sells me on purchasing a pulp-y pocket-y book (many past Cocktail Talk posts are evidence of such). And then other times when it’s the title. Or, the description on the back cover. Death for a Hussy (by Alywin Lee Martin) has all three. The cover pic is to the left. The title, well, I just mentioned it. And the first line of the description on the back cover reads, “She was very young, very beautiful and . . . very dead!” Now that combination had me hook, line, and sinker. Not a bad little read, really. And it contained the following boozy quote, too:
“I’m one of the bartenders,” he said. “Me helper comes on at ten o’clock. The joint begins jumping then. Whata ya drinkin’?”
“Scotch with a little soda.”
Jocko mixed the drink and put it down in front of Hughes. “Haig and Haig. The real McCoy—outuva an honest-to-God pinch bottle.”
“Have one with me,” Hughes invited.
Jocko pour a tumbler half full of Haig and Haig and threw the whiskey into his mouth. The glass didn’t even touch his lips.
Well, it’s been an interesting season for the Cocktail to Cocktail Hour (in the “may you live in interesting times” fashion). With my much-publicized addiction to velvet jackets becoming public, with director, cameraman, writer, and producer Dr. Gonzo’s less-publicized adventures “down south,” and with us drinking away our sponsorship dollars, the year has spun past. And now here we are, the last episode. But what an episode it is, as we solve one of the most-debated cocktail mysteries: where did The Rusty Nail come from and why isn’t it consumed as much today as in 1952? To help us, we have a very special guest, E.P. Gooks* (or, Goose. It gets confusing), a first-rate historian who we did not pay to come on the show. Watch and learn dear ones, and be ready for the next season—it’s gonna be a doozy.**
* Any resemblance to the long-time Cocktail to Cocktail Hour favorite poet Ed Skoog is purely coincidental. All academics look alike.
**This is no way means we’re legally obligated to have another season, much less a doozy season.
Wait, before you start, let me say that I know what you’re going to say. “Shot?” you would have said if I hadn’t stopped you, “aren’t shots just something you throw down to ingest quickly, not worrying about the taste just the result?” Luckily, I stopped you, cause you would have been 100% wrong.
Well, maybe not 100%, as you, like me, may have grown up throwing down cheap tequila and gawd-awful mixes in shot glasses, and so may have been trained to think about “shots” a certain way. But shots can be wonderful: smaller packages of lovingly mixed together drinks. These shots are ideal for when you want a quick taste, for when you want to send a little special drink to that little special someone, for when you just need a rapid fling with a drink and not a full on affair, and for many other situations. More well-thought-out shots are showing on many snazzy bar menus, but the trend of better shots has really been kicked off by the new book The Best Shots You’ve Never Tried, by Andrew Bohrer.
Full disclosure: I know Andrew Bohrer (as anyone—meaning: you—who has read this blog for a while knows). I’ve had some of his drinks in my books and am a fan, as you should be, of his cuddly-curmudgeon cocktail-and-bar blog Cask Strength. But even if I wouldn’t recognize him even if I was sitting next to him at the bar, I’d still suggest picking up his new shots book cause it’s packed with great drinks, great charm, great booze history, and great drinks (said twice cause it matters most). I’m gonna highlight a few drinks from the book this week to prove my point, starting with the below number, The Wing Beneath My Wings, which will positively make you sing.
Those who known me well (or who have ever met me, or ever read this blog, cause honestly, I’m somewhat of an open book, and have been known to go along and along and along a bit, even though you may have a hard time beliving that now) know that I spent my formative drinking years, if not my formative cocktail-creating years, in Kansas. Which may lead you to hypothizing that this particular mix was monikered after the big city in northeastern corner of that state. But, mysteriously, it’s not. Hah! And neither is it named after the ingredients (which include scotch, some homemade cherry hazelnut bitters, and superstar and super-misprounced Italian sweet vermouth Carpano Antica). Hah! Instead, it’s named after two separate gentlemen. First, a fella named Ken who writes the Price Family Farms blog (when he has time and sunshine) and who created those homemade bitters alluded to just two sentences before this one. And secondly, a fella named Callanan (first name Dave, but don’t stalk him or anything). They both seemed to need strong drinks, and while at least the latter, Dave, strays more towards beer (don’t hold it against him as he’s still quite rad), I figured neither would turn down having a drink that boasted a serious wallop of blended scotch with the edges slightly sanded by the stitch-sweet and herbally Carpano and the also-a-hint-cuddly-but-boastin -nutty-goodness-bitters named after them. Who, in their right mind, in Kansas or anywhere else would turn that down though? No-one in their right mind, that’s who.
Cracked ice
2 ounce blended scotch (I’ve been enjoying the famous Famous Grouse here)
1 ounce Carpano Antica
2 healthy dashes cherry hazelnut bitters
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add all the ingredients. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass.
A Note: Want your own cherry hazelnut bitters? Well, go on over to Price Family Farms and beg for the recipe.
A Second Note: Feel this absolutely has to have a garnish? Try a really good brandied or whiskied cherry if you can find one.
Here’s a wee cocktail-spoons-worth of wisdom from the hopefully not completely forgotten American pocket-pulps-and-mysteries writer Harold Q. Masur (sometimes known as Hal). I tend to agree more with the latter sentiment in his first sentence below, though I’m not necessarily opposed to a good morning drink, unless I have a long afternoon meeting (hey, no need to nap in a meeting – I like to nap on the couch). Oh, this book also has one of the finest titles I’ve ever seen. And a great cover, too. Heck, pick it up, have a Scotch, and start reading.
