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.

Here’s the problem, today (one of many, but hey, I don’t have that much time, as drinks are waiting for me somewhere). You want to fly safely, and avoid dangerous situations, but you also want to bring your booze on the trip, because everything is better with it (even being stuck next to that smelly guy that has to lean on you in the crowded coach section). With that said, I think there should be an addendum in aviation security that allows you to carry on a suitcase with one of these genius flat Old Crow Traveler bottles built in (see below ad for example)–as long as you’ll take a drink from it before boarding. Of course, Old Crow will have to bring these (genius, again, I say) bottles. But we can start a petition. I know my pal Jeremy Holt (author of Double Take, the world’s best cookbook, by the way) is in. And my man Ed Skoog (author of Mister Skylight, the world’s best poetry collection). And my comrade Dr. Gonzo (writer and director of Battleship!Battleship!Battleship!, the world’s best film about competitive Battleship playing). All of who are travelers. What about you? Let’s get this airline party started, like in the below ad (which, to be nostalgic, points to a better time. For flying at least).

Some (foolish ones) think a marathon is just a race ran a certain number of miles from point A to point B. When, actually, many things (life, even, if you know the full story) are marathons, going from one point to another. Heck, maybe that’s just the way it feels today though. Whichever case you’re in to, it’s nice to have a good drink to sip after the marathon is over, or before the marathon happens, or to sip instead of running at all (my choice). I think the Class of the Race is ideal for these situations, with its classy blend of bubbly, bourbon, Bénédictine, Peychaud’s, and a touch of simply syrup. Learn to make it (and watch a real marathon ending with it) in the below video, filmed by Dr. Gonzo (genius—have you emailed him about getting your quarterly free Khaos Apocrypher by the way?) and featuring a troop of serious runners. Or drinkers.

I’m not saying I won’t post again before any more holidays hit in the second to the last week of 2009 (I’ll definitely post again before 2010, so c’mon back y’all), but just in case I don’t, and in the spirit (and spirits) of the season, I wanted to wish every reader of this blog (all four of you, or five when certain people are out on parole) a happy and boozy holiday of your choice and holiday season. Now, it might seem like my sentiments would be enough, but because I’m always willing to go the extra mile (or mile of bottles), I brought in hunky (still) Sean Connery and a bottle of Beam to help with the wishes. Go on, fill up a glass and look into his eyes . . . that’ll make your holiday extra happy, I promise (unless you pass out from the dreaminess. Well, that might make your holiday happier, too).

Hah, today’s weather report underlines a point I sometimes forget: Mother Nature is the boss. Last week I got all pining for the end of summer (with my reverie to the Champagne of Beers) and talking about how last Friday was the last day of summer, and how we should enjoy it, and sing Hüsker Dü’s Celebrated Summer (gawd, how I loved singing that at the end of every summer in my teenage years. Here’s a freakin’ quick toast to Grant, Bob, and Greg), etc, etc, and now this Friday is even nicer, and more summer-y (at least here in W-A). Well, she showed me. To get over this in-your-face from Mother Nature, I’m going to have to drink a tall Mike Collins. A lesser consumed cousin of the Tom Collins, the Mike Collins is ideal for a day like today, with one foot in summer and at least three toes in fall, because it’s refreshing but still has that underlying umph from a delish dollop of the Irish. Why not pour yourself one, and see if I know what I’m talking about? If you want to have a little guitar ice cube like in the fantabulousy photo, a photo by the best-cocktail-photographer-in-the-world Melissa Punch, than I say: rock out! Oh, both the photo and this recipe are from the almost available Dark Spirits by the way (more on that soon–consider this a teaser.)

Mike Collins

Ice cubes

2 ounces Irish whiskey

1/2 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/4 ounce simple syrup

Chilled club soda

Lemon slice for garnish

1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the whiskey, juice, and simple syrup. Shake well, in celebration of all Mikes.

2. Fill a Collins glass three-quarters full with ice cubes. Strain the mix over the ice. Fill almost to the top with chilly club soda. Garnish with the lemon slice (stirring briefly if you want Mike mixed more).

Hey, hey, happy Friday (if you’re actually reading this on Friday, as opposed to reading it some other day. If the latter is the case, pretend it’s Friday, or dream it’s Friday . . . you know, whatever makes you happiest). While I’m happy it’s Friday, too, and have the phonograph needle poised over the proper Loverboy song, I can’t but be a little wistful for last Friday, when prince o’ bartenders Andrew Bohrer was tending bar at Vessel (as opposed to Naga. See, he stepped in to help out because the other dandy Vessel bartenders were at Tales of the Cocktail, which we’re not gonna talk about since I didn’t get to go. And yeah, I’m bitter). Because of the occasion, and because Vessel’s just a few steps from the salt mine I spend my workdays at, co-miner and pal Andrea and I skipped over to said Vessel after work last Friday, leading to the wistfulness above. Wow, that’s was a long explanation. Anyway, Andrew made us some Captain Handsomes first, but the real hit was his special Sazerac:

Instead of just coating the inside first with absinthe, he went absinthe and Champagne (ou la la), and then had brought in some homemade bourbon simple syrup to use. Holy boozey, friends and neighbors, that was one swell drink. Maybe if I/we beg him, he’ll give us his exact recipe with bourbon syrup recipe tucked into it in the comments. We’ll see. He is a busy man. Check out how focused he is while I moon for the camera:

That’s a busy man. Hanging with Mr. Andrew and pal Andrea is definitely one swell way to while away a late Friday afternoon, and the perfect prescription for forgetting about the busy bee work week, as well as the right-on recipe for rolling into the weekend (and if you can mash more metaphors into a sentence, then more power to you). Just look how happy Andrea is sipping her medicine:

Now, go off and enjoy your evenings, mornings, and afternoons guys and gals (but as Sergeant Phil Esterhaus says, “Hey, let’s be careful out there.”)

It’s always nice to see a quality bartender (and, in this case, pal) get a little public recognition, as Andrew Bohrer does in this Seattle Times article about the new Chantanee/Bar Naga combo. And if I did write about them a little earlier (here), then all the better. A good bar needs all the public words about it that are possible, so that people find their way there, take advantage of the tasty cocktails, chat up the friendly bar staff, eat snacks, be merry, dance around a bit, and then tip accordingly and stumble home. That’s just makes the world a better place, friends. Oh, as a side note, when I myself was at Chantanee/Naga last Friday, Andrew did indeed toss around a Blue Blazer like in the picture (said picture taken by photog Baydra Rutledge–go Baydra!), as a remedy for my cold, and as entertainment for patrons. It was a kick, and went down divinely. I felt better almost immediately. At least by the second one. Now, go read that article.

Charlotte Brontë’s third published novel isn’t rampant with cocktailing (more focused on life in a boarding school in a bustling French town), but it is brilliantly fun to read for the precise and flourishing prose, and for the following quote, which I think delves perfectly into the aroma, and nature, of whiskey:

“A heated stove made the air of this room oppressive; and, to mend matters, it was scented with an odor rather strong than delicate: a perfume, indeed, altogether surprising and unexpected under the circumstances, being like the combination of smoke with some spirituous essence–a smell, in short, of whiskey.”

 

–Charlotte Brontë, Villette