September 19, 2010
With the release reading for In Their Cups: An Anthology of Poems about Drinking Places, Drinks, and Drinkers just around the corner (and by “just around the corner” I mean Sunday, September 26th, at 3 pm, at the almighty Open Books), I wanted to prime the proverbial poetic drunken pump with a couple choice selections from said book. To get things started, much like the book itself gets started, here’s Keats’ rollicking reverie to his favorite bar, the Mermaid Tavern. It’s somehow weirdly (well, maybe it’s not weird–what do you 
think, bar lovers?) reassuring to me that Keats had a favorite drinking spot in the early 1800s that he wrote about, and by his writing I think I might have enjoyed sitting there with pals having pints (and the occasional Dog’s Nose, as they did at the time). So, take a step back with Mr. Keats before all this internet-y-ness, when folks actually did their talking and drinking face-to-face.
Lines on the Mermaid Tavern
Souls of Poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,
Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?
Have ye tippled drink more fine
Than mine host’s Canary wine?
Or are fruits of Paradise
Sweeter than those dainty pies
Of venison? O generous food!
Drest as though bold Robin Hood
Would, with his maid Marian,
Sup and bowse from horn and can.
I have heard that on a day
Mine host’s sign-board flew away,
Nobody knew whither, till
An astrologer’s old quill
To a sheepskin gave the story,
Said he saw you in your glory,
Underneath a new old-sign
Sipping beverage divine,
And pledging with contented smack
The Mermaid in the Zodiac.
Souls of Poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,
Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?
— Lines on the Mermaid Tavern, John Keats
September 8, 2010
Sorry for the second book party post in a row, but I’d be remiss to the bubbly fans (and general good-living and good-living-loving pals) if I didn’t say anything. So, bubbly ones, step right up–I have got a deal (full of bubbles) for you and for yours. On October 1st, 2010, I’ll be making a couple drinks from my brand new bubblicious book Champagne Cocktails: 50 Cork-Popping Concoctions and Scintillating Sparklers at Seattle’s own Dish It Up in beautiful Magnolia, at 2425 33rd Ave West, and you can get in on the effervescent action for a mere $25. This, you might think, is more than enough to get you out for a few on a Friday night. But wait, there’s more: you also get a free copy of the book (which I’ll sign to you with all the love and affection I have for you. Which is a lot). Now that, you’re thinking, is one heck of a deal. But wait, there is still more: you’ll also get a $10 gift certificate for Dish It Up (the coolest Kitchen store you’ll ever have the pleasure of browsing within) that you can spend that very night! Holy Dom Perignon, that’s quite an evening.
The book, if I can be so bold, is pretty darn swell all on its own, too (just in case you can’t make the big night on October 1st). It has the classic bubbly mixes, but also a host of unburied bubbly treasures, some fresh fresh mixes (from fresh folks like Andrew Bohrer, Jaime Boudreau, and the ladies of LUPEC), and some crowd-pleasers. And it doesn’t just rest its laurels on straight up sparkling wine and Champagne (though those are well represented). There are also drinks with Italian charmers Prosecco, Brachetto d’Aqui, Asti, and Lambrusco, South Africa’s Cap Classique, German Sekt, Spanish Cava, and Australian sparkling Shiraz, so it covers the globe and the rainbow (not forgetting the rose’ part of that rainbow either). Now there, friends, is a frizzante party just waiting to be uncorked.
September 8, 2010
Calling all drinkers, drink-makers, poets, poetry-readers, and anyone who is friends with anyone who fits in the above categories–which means, calling everyone. I was lucky enough to spend a chunk of the last year or so editing up a collection of poems about drinking places, drinks, and drinkers, and you’re lucky because said collection is coming out this month, and we’re having a big reading/party to celebrate. It’s going to be September 26th, at 3 pm, at Open Books here in Seattle (Open Books is at 2414 N. 45th St. Seattle, and the full reading listing is here).
Wait, though, jump back–I haven’t even told you the name yet. The anthology is called In Their Cups, and it features poets from hither and yon, poets who wrote in ancient times all the way up to poets who wrote a line yesterday. The whole idea behind the book (in a way) was to populate one giant bar with poets from throughout history, give them all some cocktails, and let them start spouting poems that would encompass the experiences of all drinkers. Did it work? You can find out by coming to the reading (or picking up the book, if you can’t make it). The reading will feature four of Seattle’s finest poets (and me) reading the poem they have in the book, plus a couple others from poets who couldn’t make it because they don’t live nearby, or don’t live at all anymore. The line-up includes:
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Effervescent Emily Bedard
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Action-packed Allen Braden
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Jumpin’ jolly James Gurley
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Awfully excited to be in such company A.J. Rathbun
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One giant mystery guest
If you still aren’t sold, the full-on listing of poets who have poems on the pages of In Their Cups is: A.J. Rathbun, Henry Aldrich, Thomas Bailey Aldrich, Guillaume Apollinaire, Emily Bedard, Bridget Bell, Allen Braden, Henry Carey, Richard Carr, Catullus, John Clare, Jaime Curl, Emily Dickinson, Philip Dow, Paul Laurence Dunbar, Stephen Dunn, Amy Fleury, Philip Freneau, Du Fu, Thomas Godfrey, Jeff Greer, James Gurley, Mark Halliday, Robert Herrick, Charles Fenno Hoffman, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Elizabeth Hughey, Richard Hugo, Christopher Janke, Jonathan Jonson, John Keats, J. Robert Lennon, John Lyly, William Maginn, Tod Marshall, Robert Hinkley Messinger, Dan Morris, Joseph O’Leary, William Olsen, Cesare Pavese, Li Po, Francesco Redi, Arthur Rimbaud, Ed Skoog, Gerald Stern, George Walter Thornbury, Chase Twichell, and Royall Tyler.
See you on the 26th friends and neighbors and local poetic drunkards.
Tags: Allen Braden, bar poems, drink poems, drinker poems, drinking poems, Drinking Writer, Ed Skoog, Emily Bedard, In Their Cups, James Gurley, poems
Posted in: Bars, cocktail poem, drinking poems, Drinking Writer, Ed Skoog, In Their Cups
August 27, 2010
A little serious (with the seriousness of gin), but with enough fruity overtones to ensure no one gets ponderous in conversation or step, the Après Coup is easy enough to make on a whim but layered enough in flavor to support a whole party. As long as the partiers weren’t opposed to staying up late. Cause you know a drink with Maraschino is going to have you up past midnight, right? I mean, the Maraschino (and I go Luxardo, because that’s the way I roll) is all about living after midnight. So much so that Rob Halford used to carry a whole crate of bottles of tour with him. Think I’m fibbing?
Cracked ice
1-1/2 ounces gin
1 ounce Chambord
1/4 ounce Maraschino liqueur
1 dash Peychaud bitters
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass three-quarters full with cracked ice. Add the gin, Chambord, Maraschino, and bitters. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass (or, if there aren’t any clean ones left, any old glass that isn’t tattooed with lipstick or halfway full with an old drink works).
Tags: Chambord, cocktail recipe, Gin, Luxardo, Maraschino, Peychaud bitters, recipe, Rob Halford, What I Wish I Was Drinking
Posted in: Almost Drinkable Photo, Gin, Liqueurs, Recipes, What I Wish I Was Drinking
August 24, 2010
In our last ad for Old Hickory, they’ve moved from Lincoln, to Leary, to just leering. Blunt like the beard on a creepy old man, there’s no patter and no palaver. Old Hickory just wants to get you drunk and put on old Bad Company records. Or, just wants to wear the Harbor Master jacket, lean up against his dingy, and mutter nasties under his breath as 18-year-olds walk past with horrified looks. Because (and this is no joke) the Harbor Master ad was right under this particular Old Hickory ad. A fitting end to the demise and decline of Old Hickory (which can’t be found any more, though I think pal Juan Shoreleave is going state-to-state trying. Watch for him).
And if you’ve wondered what to wear:
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 10, 2010
I (as demonstrated before) love me some Miller High Life. One summer, my pal Joel and I used to have a 12-pack chilled for us to drink on the porch every night at 2 am once home from the bars. One other summer (this was before High Life had a little hipster resurgence, too), my pal Erik and I drove up from Chicago to the Miller Brewing Company in Milwaukee and forced some sadsack salesperson to go into a back room and bring out a dusty box of High Life merch for us to wade through (we did buy a lot, admittedly). So, me and High Life have had a long and fruitful drunken relationship. And I’ve always referred to it, bottle, can, or keg, as the Champagne of beers. Now, the below ad is telling me that only bottles fit that description, and only uptight Wall Street types can drink said bottles, while working class chums are stuck with stinky ol’ cans and looking sadly at the privileged others. Damn, is even High Life stuck within some class-conscious vortex of suck? Or am I over-reacting? Should I just get a beer and go outside far away from corporate living and drink it and fill my talk hole with its golden goodness?
