September 17, 2013

Cocktail Talk, Straight Cut, Part I

StraightCutI recently picked up a random read from Madison Smartt Bell called Straight Cut. If I’ve ever read a book by Mr. Bell, I’ve forgotten it (sorry!), but this one was from the reliable Hard Case Crime label, had a great cover, and at least (so the cover told me) takes place partially in Rome. I’m all for all three of those, so I dove in. And it’s a dandy read, sort-of a thoughtful caper revolving a bit around films and film-making, with lots in Rome, and lots (which is why I’m mentioned it here on this blog) of nice drink-y moments. Enough so that I’m going to put a couple Straight Cuts quotes on here – two posts worth! Starting with this one that starts with a question and ends with mint:

Did I want a drink or did I want a drink? I reached out my hand then thought, don’t get belting it out of the bottle, that’s not the way. Get a glass and some ice at least. Then I decided I’d do it fancy, go out in the field and pick some mint for my drink.

There wasn’t enough moon to make much light, and I went stumbling over clumps of uncut grass until my eyes adjusted to the dark. The ground here on the flat was spongy from the rain, and it was pleasantly cool. The mint grew wild in a ditch somewhere about halfway across the field, which I found by tripping into it, soaking myself to the knees.

I picked a handful of broad leaves and a couple of tops for decoration. The fine sweet smell rose from the stalks as I broke them, and it covered both of my hands. I tore a leaf and chewed it on my way back toward the house. It was a quiet night. No drunk teenage drivers for me to pick out of my fence, not yet anyway.

I thought I might not want a drink anymore once I’d had my healthy little walk, but I was wrong. I did. In fact, I wanted two big drinks.

Straight Cut, Madison Smartt Bell

September 13, 2013

Cocktail to Cocktail Hour V4, One, The Kick-Off Cocktail

Holy Toledo! Everyone who’s been holding your breath can now exhale – the new season of the Cocktail to Cocktail Hour is finally upon us. They (those bastardos) said it couldn’t be done, said that the Cocktail to Cocktail Hour was too radicool, too awesome, too tasty for modern T.V. – but they were wrong. To prove it, the first episode of the new season, where I teach you have to make the Kick-Off, a combination of gin, dry vermouth, anisette, Benedictine, and Angostura. Get to it, y’all!

September 10, 2013

U.K. Drinks, Part II: 69 Colebrooke Row

In the recent U.K. Drinks Part I post, I talked about drinking ales at Cornwall pubs, and how lovely it was. But I also spent a little time in a town I like to call Londinius (or Matt Berry likes to call it that, and I imitate him), and had some swell drinks there, too. The swellest though, and what I’m devoting this post too, were at a bar with no name that resides at 69 Colbrooke Row (and, funny enough, the check actually says “The Bar With No Name”). It’s a well-known spot, thanks to the bartending and chemistry of renowned shaker Tony Conigliaro, whose book The Cocktail Lab: Unraveling the Mysteries of Flavor and Aroma in Drink, with Recipes, recently came out. You should buy it, if you’re at all interested in cocktails. And why would you be here if you weren’t? Anywho, I’d always wanted to visit said bar, and was stoked to finally get there. I started with a drink called Terroir, which is a word I can’t pronounce. It’s also a straight spirit they distill at the “lab” up the street – distill from clay, lichen, and flint! Really.

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If you see a drink on a menu that’s a distillate of clay, lichen, and flint, how can you get anything else? You can’t. It comes poured at the table straight from the bottle,

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and was delicious, slightly sweet, even, with earth tones, as you’d expect, and undercurrents of the air you smell when roaming the hills of France. From there, I went to the Avignon, on the server’s suggestion (more about said server in a minute). It was a combo of Merlot Cognac, Chamomile syrup, and smoked Frankincense. I kid you not! It had an amazing complex smokiness that started with the glass itself – turns out, they smoke the glass, too, in some mad scientist machine at the lab. The drink had layers of smoke and smelled, almost as if you were drinking from a chasuble.

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At this point (and after Nat had a few drinks, which I’m not detailing cause really then you’d know the whole menu and not want to visit the bar yourself, which you should. So I’m leaving you with a bit of mystery) I wanted something a bit more umphy, as both the early drinks, while awesome, had sweeter notions. After talking it through with our server (hold on, more on him in a sec), he suggested an old favorite I hadn’t had in years, the Remember the Maine. A perfect idea! It’s like a Manhattan jagged with absinthe more-or-less, and fell right into place. Sadly, I was having too much fun to take a picture.

But that wasn’t it (and no, we weren’t stumbling – we were there a while, and the drinks were well-sized, meaning not like buckets). On the advice of that same server, and actually on the dime of that server, as he bought us this last drink, we had the Prairie Oyster shot. Now, don’t faint (if you know I’m a veg, that is. If you don’t, now you do). There wasn’t a real oyster involved. What was involved was cool as heck, and I’m going to try and describe it, but not do it justice. But here goes. They take tomato water and herbs, and place it into a handmade mold that looks like an oyster, then immerse it in a chemical solution that makes the outer layer form into a “skin” of sorts, and the whole thing look oysterish. Then they place it into a custom-made ceramic “shell” and top it with house pepper vodka and some other goodness. Then you shoot it. When you take a bite (which I suggest) of the tomato “yolk” or “oyster” it bursts with this fantastic rush of vegetal-ness, herb and spice, and pepper. It’s yummy.

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So, the drinks were interesting, tasty, and reliable. Which wouldn’t mean nearly as much if the service wasn’t so darn great. Everyone working there was friendly, the place itself is cozy, there was a piano player knocking out 1930s, 40s, and 50s hits, there’s a Bogart-y shadow on the wall going up the bathrooms:

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and the whole atmosphere is neat. And our main server was super helpful, so enthusiastic about the drinks, as well as knowledgeable, and very friendly. He greeted every table with a “Hello Ladies and Gents” and kept everyone happy, with the help of the other amiable employees. And, his name was Coco.

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He told us he’s opening his own bar in London soon, so when you visit 69 Colbrooke Row, which you must, ask them where Coco’s bar is, so you can visit it, too.

September 6, 2013

What I’m Drinking: The Early Harvest

While this drink’s name may be harkening to middle-summer (which for some is when harvest starts), I actually have it down as a fall number, thanks to the inclusion of cider – for some reason, I think of apples as a late fall crop. By the way, I could be totally wrong about all this. I can admit it. I can also admit that I know blueberries aren’t a fall harvest, and yet they’re still in here. Hah! Sometimes cocktail names just come about, and match the drink poetically, if not 100% factually. Oh, the cider here is from the new Seattle Cider Company, and so of course the blueberry addition comes from Sidetrack Distillery blueberry liqueur, cause I like to keep the locales local.

early-harvert

The Early Harvest

Cracked ice

1 ounce vodka (keep it local with Bluewater’s organic vodka)

1-1/4 ounce Sidetrack Distillery Blueberry liqueur

Ice cubes

3 ounces Seattle Cider Company Semi-Sweet cider

3 blueberries (or thereabouts) for garnish

1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add the vodka and the liqueur. Stir well.

2. Fill a highball or Old-Fashioned’y glass three-quarters full with ice cubes. Strain the vodka/liqueur combo over the ice.

3. Add the cider, and stir to combine. Drop in the blueberry garnish.

September 3, 2013

U.K. Drinks Part I: Real Ales

We (wife Nat and I, that is) were recently in lovely England for a wedding – our friends Becs and Drew (who wrote a number of dandy Drew’s Brews columns for this very site) got hitched down in Falmouth, Cornwall. Since we were down in that beautiful part of the world, we stayed on for a while after the wedding, in a spot near Port Isaac, where Doc Martin is filmed. Yes, I am square. While in the English countryside, we saw many amazing vistas, caught up on some history, drove on some very tight roads, ate a host of tasty meals, and sampled a fair number of  real, or cask ales. Though this site is usually about cocktails and spirits, I also (don’t gasp) like the ales, lagers, stouts, and general beers. Which meant that our English beer-cation was right up my alley. And so I thought I’d highlight a couple favorites. Out first hit, which to be honest was a hit for many days, was the award-winning Tribute Cornish pale ale, from St. Austell brewery. It’s made (I discovered) from 100% Cornish Gold Malt, and has a biscuity, malty flavor, with hints of citrus:

tribute

I also had a few Proper Jobs, which was a favorite of Becs and Drew that they suggested we try. It was a good suggestion. Also from the St. Austell brewery, it’s a hoppy hoppy IPA with the right amount of bitterness:

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We went to a lot of dandy pubs (most of which not only have intriguing beers, but really better-than-expected food, too), including the Blisland Inn, which is owned by a fella nicknamed King Buddha, and he has his own beer only available there (I think), the King Buddha Blisland Special from Sharp’s brewery, which I was happy to try. It also had a great English ale taste, a stitch bitter, and was a good accompaniment to a hearty lunch:

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Eventually, we found our way to London, at which time we moved into the Fuller’s family of beer. Both because it’s Nat’s last name and because Fuller’s Ales are darn fine, especially the classic London Pride, which is smooth, creamy, malty, and wonderful:

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Now, get yourself over to the U.K. and have your own beer-cation.

 

August 30, 2013

What I’m Drinking: Marguerite

A week ago today, I put up a Friday night drink called the Portofino, which was a drink I made for my mother’s 75th birthday party. One of the other drinks (there were three) was the Marguerite. As mentioned in that earlier post, I was slightly angling the drinks the Italian way, and the Italian connection here is anisette – specifically Meletti anisette, which is one of the finest sippers I know. I blogged more about it on a specific Meletti post, so go catch up if you missed it. Then, when back, make this drink. It has an interesting balance, as it’s equal parts gin and vermouth, but the end result is awfully wonderful (oh, the recipe is from Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, if you wondered).

Marguerite

The Marguerite

Cracked ice

1-1/4 ounces gin

1-1/4 ounces dry vermouth

1/4 ounce anisette

Thin lemon slice for garnish

1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add the gin, vermouth, and anisette. Stir well.

2. Strain the mix into a cocktail glass or comparable glass

3. Give the lemon slice a small squeeze over the glass then drop it in.

August 27, 2013

Cocktail Talk: Gemini

pocket-book-mysteriesI have to admit – I don’t know a whole lot about G.B. Stern. She (full name: Gladys Bronwyn Stern) was a British writer, who wrote a whole lot of things, including a short story called Gemini, which was printed in The Pocket Book of Mystery Stories from 1940. That collection is pretty swell, if you ever come across it, with a wide range of stories and (as the back cover lets us know), “Gasps and Ghosts Galore!” But only one story has slivovitz in it, and that’s the one by G.B. Stern.

I was going to mix the cocktails and have them ready, just before any of you turned up, when it struck me that I might invent a new one with a strain of slivovitz in it.

—G.B. Stern, The Pocket Book of Mystery Stories

August 23, 2013

What I’m Drinking: The Portofino

It was recently my mother’s 75th birthday (yay mom!), and she had quite the wing-ding to celebrate, with oodles of friends and family in attendance, and lots of delicious edibles, and some piano playing, and some singing, and some toasting. I also made drinks for everyone, and we went with a little Italian-styled, or at least Italian-touched, menu of three drinks. One of those was the Portofino, a drink I hadn’t had since putting together the recipes for Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz. It ended up being the favorite of the evening, I think because, well, it’s a tasty drink, sure, but also because it’s such a fine, fine bubbly beauty for August, when the weather is hot. The Italian part of the drink comes out in the name (which is a small port city in Genoa), as well as the addition of Italian aperitif champion Aperol. The neat thing – I believe – is that the drink also has a dose of Pimm’s No. 1 Cup in it. That’s not only neat because it references the days when English sailors used to dock in the port city the drink’s named after, but also because the day before my mom’s 75th birthday party, I returned from a two-week sojourn in jolly old England, where Pimm’s, of course, is from.

portofino

The Portofino

Ice cubes

2 ounces Pimm’s No. 1 Cup

1 ounce Aperol

Chilled ginger ale

Orange wedge, for garnish

1. Fill a highball glass three quarters up with ice cubes. Add the Pimm’s and Aperol and stir briefly.

2. Fill the glass almost to the top with ginger ale. Stir again and garnish with the orange wedge.

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