April 26, 2011
The following two quotes, the last of those from the Raymond Chandler book Pearls Are A Nuisance, which I talk about more in Take 1, below Take 2, which is below this post right here and now. These quotes are from the final story in the collection, “The King in Yellow” and include one about drinking light and one about drinking heavier. Not a bad way to end up, though I think Mr. Chandler would be more happy with the latter, were he still around to drink with (sadly, not the case).
The red-haired girl said: ‘The drink’s on me. I was with him.’
Steve said: ‘Coke with a dash of bitters,’ to the waiter.
The waiter said, ‘Madame?’
‘Brandy and soda. Light on the brandy, please.’ The waiter bowed and drifted away. The girl said amusedly: ‘Coke with a dash of bitters. That’s what I love about Hollywood. You meet so many neurotics.’
The maid came back with a copper ice bucket. She pulled a low Indian-brass tray-table between them before the davenport, put the ice bucket on it, then a siphon, glasses, and spoons, and a triangular bottle that looked like good Scotch had come in it except that it was covered with silver filigree work and fitted with a stopper.
Dolores Chiozza said: ‘Will you mix a drink? in a formal voice.
He mixed two drinks, stirred them, handed her one. She sipped it, shook her head. ‘Too light,’ she said. He put more whisky in it and handed it back. She said, ‘Better,’ and leaned back against the corner of the davenport.
–Pearls Are A Nuisance, Raymond Chandler
April 4, 2011
When we think of Roald Dahl, we (and here, I’m talking for the world, like an old tottering professor type) tend to think of him as not being ripe for Cocktail Talk posts, cause he’s probably best known for books in the Children’s section (fantastical, imaginative, adults-read-them-too books, though), such as James and Giant Peach, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and more. However, he started as a short story writer, and wrote non-Children’s-section books as well, including a silly-ly naughty one supposedly pulled from the journals a fictitious Uncle Oswald. Oswald was supposedly the greated fornicator of all time, thanks in part to the Sundanese Blister Beetle (which when ground up was a sex bomb of sorts). Oswald’s adventures start, however, listening to a description of whiskey on a hot day:
‘One evening,’ he began, ‘I was sitting on the verandah of my bungalow way upcountry about fifty miles north of Khartoum. It was hot as hell and I’d had a hard day. I was drinking a strong whiskey and soda. It was my first that evening and I as lying back in the deckchair with my feet resting on the little balustrade that ran round the verandah. I could feel the whiskey hitting the lining of my stomach and I can promise you there is no great sensation at the end of a long day in a fierce climate than when you feel that first whiskey hitting your stomach and going through your bloodstream.’
–Roald Dahl, My Uncle Oswald
October 16, 2010
Before leaving for Italy (detailed on my blog Six Months In Italy), I went through and re-read almost all the Easy Rawlins books by Walter Mosley. I think Mosley is one of the finest writers living today, and think the Easy Rawlins books are the best Mosley books (and too often talked about only as detective fiction, which is silly as they transcend genre by the end of the first page, if not the first sentence, of the first book, Devil in a Blue Dress). These books are, like Dickens in a way, imaginative tour de forces due to their ability to summon up a specific time and place (LA is the place for Easy Rawlins, with the times starting in the 50s and moving on up) so completely you become completely immersed in it, and in the characters, which feel real in their motivations and feelings and actions and thoughts, as real as people who walked the earth at any time in history. So, if you haven’t read Mosley, get after it. Black Betty is a book in the middle part of the Easy Rawlins collection, and this quote is one of the best I’ve read about whiskey, the soul of it and the underlying personality whiskey carries with every sip.
There are few things as beautiful as a glass bottle filled with deep amber whiskey. Liquor shines when the light hits it, reminiscent of precious things like jewels and gold. But whiskey is better than some lifeless bracelet or coronet. Whiskey is a living thing capable of any emotion that you are. It’s love and deep laughter and brotherhood of the type that bonds nations together.
Whiskey is your friend when nobody else comes around.
And whiskey is solace that holds you tighter than most lovers can.
–Walter Mosley, Black Betty
September 21, 2010
In Their Cups week continues here at Spiked Punch, with another poem from the raddest collection of drinking and drinkers poems I’ve ever been associated with up to date (if you missed it, it’s a week celebrating In Their Cups because of a certain reading this Sunday). For today’s pick, I’m going with a poem celebrating one of my favorite drinks, and the drink to have the first Saturday in May–the Mint Julep of course. This poem about the legendary birth of the Mint Julep is by Charles Fenno Hoffmann, who was a New York writer, editor, and critic in the 1800s. If you’ve ever had a truly well-made Mint Julep (on May 1st or any other day), you’ll understand why he’d write such a ringing and singing and immortalizing number about the drink (and if you haven’t had a Mint Julep that matches the below, maybe we need to get you a better recipe or point you to a different watering hole).
The Mint Julep
‘Tis said that the gods on Olympus of old
(And who the bright legend profanes with a doubt?)
One night, ’mid their revels, by Bacchus were told
That his last butt of nectar had somehow run out!
But determined to send round the goblet once more,
They sued to the fairer immortals for aid
In composing a draught which, till drinking were o’er,
Should cast every wine ever drank in the shade.
Grave Ceres herself blithely yielded her corn,
And the spirit that lives in each amber-hued grain,
And which first had its birth from the dew of the morn,
Was taught to steal out in bright dewdrops again.
Pomona, whose choicest of fruits on the board
Were scattered profusely in every one’s reach,
When called on a tribute to cull from the hoard,
Expressed the mild juice of the delicate peach.
The liquids were mingled while Venus looked on
With glances so fraught with sweet magical power,
That the honey of Hybla, e’en when they were gone,
Has never been missed in the draught from that hour
Flora, then, from her bosom of fragrancy, shook,
And with roseate fingers pressed down in the bowl,
All dripping and fresh as it came from the brook,
The herb whose aroma should flavor the whole.
The draught was delicious, and loud the acclaim,
Though something seemed wanting for all to bewail,
But Juleps the drink of immortals became,
When Jove himself added a handful of hail.
– The Mint Julep, Charles Fenno Hoffmann
August 20, 2010
This is the second in our series of Old Hickory ads (for the first, look below, or click this Old Hickey link), where Old Hickory decided one month after being more in the lineage of Lincoln (thanks Nicole for showing me that, um, obvious connection) that they wanted to become a bit more in the lineage of Leary. But use exactly the same graphics. So c’mon, join the trip, man (and woman).
August 17, 2010
Okay, this is the first of a three-part series of Old Hickory ads, charting the brand’s movement from somewhat reserved and reticent tipple probably most utilized by small town citizens who like to spend time on the front porch in a rocking chair talking about the goodness in populations under 1500, from that to a wilder and crazier far out swiller most consumed by brightly-colored college denizens out for a night of mind-bending free spirited alcohol and drug use, from that to a pretty twisted gulper utilized by boozed-up party boys on the make to entice those young ladies who don’t know any better to do things they shouldn’t probably do, with a smile. So, basically, charting the exact same trajectory as most men I knew growing up as they moved from seniors in high school to seniors in college. The strange thing, though, is that Old Hickory ran these ads in three consecutive months in a particular magazine. That’s re-branding at light speed people.
August 17, 2010
Okay, this is the first of a three-part series of Old Hickory ads, charting the brand’s movement from somewhat reserved and reticent tipple probably most utilized by small town citizens who like to spend time on the front porch in a rocking chair talking about the goodness in populations under 1500, from that to a wilder and crazier far out swiller most consumed by brightly-colored college denizens out for a night of mind-bending free spirited alcohol and drug use, from that to a pretty twisted gulper utilized by boozed-up party boys on the make to entice those young ladies who don’t know any better to do things they shouldn’t probably do, with a smile. So, basically, charting the exact same trajectory as most men I knew growing up as they moved from seniors in high school to seniors in college. The strange thing, though, is that Old Hickory ran these ads in three consecutive months in a particular magazine. That’s re-branding at light speed people.
July 6, 2010
Summer has finally it seems found its way to Seattle, and as hemlines go up with the increase in temperature, the amount of tall bubbly refreshing drink consumption also needs to go up. Sadly, I’m just looking out the window dreaming of the above right now (and while I meant dreaming of refreshing drinks, you can dream about them with rising hemlines if you want. I’m sure not gonna tell you not to), but when I move from dream to reality, I’m starting with a Foppa (the below recipe is from Dark Spirits, proving that the darker base spirits can be as useful in summer as in winter).
I found the Foppa in an Italian book called Cocktails: Classici & Esotici (Demetra, 2002) and love how it mingles ingredients from all over the globe: Scotch whisky, amaretto, dry vermouth (sometimes known as French vermouth), and ginger ale combine to become a lovely world tour of refreshment in a glass. Use it to break the heat and, after a couple, as a spur to taking those hemlines even higher. I mean, it is hot outside.
Ice cubes
1 1/2 ounces Scotch
1/2 ounce amaretto
1/2 ounce dry vermouth
Chilled ginger ale
1. Fill a highball glass three-quarters full with ice cubes. Add the Scotch, amaretto, and vermouth. Stir with a long spoon.
2. Top the glass off with ginger ale. Stir again.
A Note: The original recipe here suggests single-malt Scotch, but I like using a nice blended version, which I think works well with the other ingredients (something like Dewar’s is a dandy choice). They also suggest using Di Saronno Amaretto, which traces its secret recipe back to 1525. A good suggestion, I think.
