Okay, that’s the world’s longest blog title, but I just wanted to get everything in and would have even bolded it if this blogging software would let me. But it wouldn’t (even after I promised it drinks). That’s how excited I am that the first episode of the new season of A.J.’s Good Spirit Cocktail to Cocktail Hour is done! For this season, we wanted to really knock some boozy socks off, so we took the camera and crew on the road to Seattle’s Mistral Kitchen, so bar manager and boy cocktail genius Andrew Bohrer (proprietor of the Cask Strength blog, too) could get all up in his molecular mixologist for you with an updated version of the Jimmy Roosevelt. As it’s the first episode and such a big whomping deal, it’s longer than normal–but you get twice the fun, twice the laughs, and (most of all) twice the cocktailing! We are still haggling with our normal Swedish station, so the only way you can see this currently is online (thanks to AKTV). Please send it to your friends, your bartenders, your paramours, and anyone else whose email you have. Cheers!
Or at least he thinks he can in the below video. But he is challenging you to prove him wrong. So, if you’re tough enough, film yourself and then let him know. I’m just happy I can have an open beer served to me really darn fast (and without even having to break the bottle’s neck off with a rock. Which is what I usually do).
Okay, right up at the front of the stage, before the curtains go up, let me tell those readers who don’t know, what MxMo is (or at least give out what I know, which isn’t a whole barrelful of knowledge, since I’ve never had the pleasure of taking part before). Basically, it’s a bunch of bar-booze-drunken bloggers making up or bringing out a drink under a particular theme, on a Monday. So, mixology Monday I suppose. A different blog hosts every one (one a month, I believe), and they round up links to the posts about the theme on the day on their site, and send readers out and about and around the interweb to see those other posts about the theme. From what I’ve read when going boozing on the web on Mondays, the themes tend to be a particular spirit, liquor, or ingredient. However, when the really wacky bar blogger hosts, the theme may just be more, let’s say esoteric. Which is the case this month, as drink-slinger Andrew Bohrer who blogs at Cask Strength is hosting the MxMo, and he chose Tom Waits.
Which actually makes fantastically fantastic sense, as Andrew talks about in his top MxMo post (right here), in story fashion, which Waits himself would enjoy, I think. See, at heart, going around the rumbling voice and the at times otherworldly instrumentation and the harlots and hard heads, Waits is a storyteller, a boozy troubadour, a chronicler of the forgotten nights and the railroad yards, of trombone funerals and waking up wearing bruises and regret in a hotel next to the railroad tracks, of lost and long- elapsed love, and of gospel music sung under a blistering sun when all you want is a glass of whiskey and s single ice cube and the time to drink the world down.
Of course, as the above going on and on probably demonstrates, and since I’ve mentioned him in cocktail recipe intros in pretty much every book I’ve written, I’m a Tom Waits fan. I have most CDs, and listen to him on a regular basis, and have sat up singing Tom Waits with pals and bourbon and brandy until 4 am multiple times, have sat in a parked car half drunk singing Tom Waits while the thunder hit the hood like a million fists, and have put Tom Waits songs on jukeboxes with a glass of gin in one hand in more bars, lounges, dives, and hole-in-the-walls then I can remember. But as I haven’t gotten to my drink yet, I’m gonna put a leash on my Waitsean ramblings and start pouring.
Oh, wait, give me another sec, to give a drink backstory. Though I enjoy all the Waits CDs I have (including those Andrew mentions, Closing Time, Small Change, and the rollicking live Nighthawks at the Diner), the one I go back to the most is Rain Dogs. From the opening “We sail tonight for Singapore” to the New Orleans horns playing the funeral out at the record’s end, Rain Dogs matches more moods and moodiness and must-have-a-drink-while-listening-to tracks to me than any other. And while I don’t have a “favorite” song on Rain Dogs (this makes a type of sense, since they go together like egg drinks and mornings), “Tango Till They’re Sore” is the song (don’t take this morbidly, by the way) I want played at my funeral. I just want folks there to have good music, to drink well, and to toast me relentlessly, and this song, which starts “Well ya play that Tarantela and the hounds they start to roar” does just that. Not to mention that the chorus goes:
Let me fall out the window
With confetti in my hair
Deal out jacks or better
On a blanket by the stairs
I’ll tell you all my secrets
But I lie about my past
So send me off to bed forever more.
Rain Dogs also has a dandy song called “Jockey Full of Bourbon” (which has the classic line, a line I can sympathize with, “I’m full of bourbon, I can’t stand up”), so I wanted my drink to have a bourbon base, and bourbon is also mentioned multiple times within the record. The only other spirit dropped in the album is brandy (in “Union Square”), so I decided to double up on base spirits a bit, and then I wanted to bring in some bitters, in honor of the line in “9th & Hennepin” that says “till you’re full of rag water, bitters, and blue ruin.” So, that got me to three, a magic number, but because Tom Waits is also an original, I wanted to bring another ingredient into the drink that isn’t mentioned in one of his songs (four can be a magic number too y’all), but that has at least a tangential connection, and so I went with St. Elizabeth’s Allspice Dram. For one, it tastes great. For two, St. Elizabeth’s could be an insane asylum. For three, it’s based on an older ingredient called “Pimento Dram” which I could see Waits-style sailors drinking on a leaking dingy. When mixed in the following way, these ingredients in honor of Tom Waits and Andrew Bohrer make The Hounds They Start to Roar:
2 ounces bourbon (I used Blanton’s)
¾ ounce St. Elizabeth’s Allspice Dram
½ ounce brandy (I used Grand Duke d’Alba cause I’m walking Spanish down the hall)
2 dashes Peychaud’s Bitters
1. Fill a cocktail shaker, mixing glass, dented top hat, or ladies leather boot halfway full with cracked ice. Add the whole bunch of ingredients. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass or goblet. Garnish with a sad song.
PS: Feel this needs a garnish? I suggest an ice pick, a dented fender from a ’54 Ford, or a tattooed tear.
After having a spread in Penthouse, I wasn’t sure my happiness could get any higher (well, outside of someone making a Dr. Strange movie with Neilalien directing), but then pal and bartending genius and good-natured fella Andrew Bohrer put me in the best blog post ever, which is on his blog Cask Strength. It’s all about bartending-and-cocktailian-and-drinking-and-drink-writing folk that Andrew has met or sipped with or had to throw out of his bar, people that he has now artistically made into Lego people. It’s amazing and I was lucky enough to be Lego’d in it. Not only did he get me little lego shorts and a nice shirt (and matched my hairstyle) but he said “always showing off his legs and books”–that, I love. There are also many other Lego’d drinky folks, including amazing people like the King, Dale DeGroff, and Paul Clarke from the Cocktail Chronicles. You should check it out right now, not only for the Lego-ing madness, but also for Andrew’s humor and writing style, too. He will have you laughing all the way to the bar.
Okay, full disclosure straight up: the bar manager at the new (as opposed to the older version from a few years ago) Mistral Kitchen in Seattle is a pal of mine. A good pal, even. His name’s Andrew Bohrer, and I’ve blogged about him before, cause he makes damn good drinks, and isn’t all snooty about it (and his blog Cask Strength is full of booze and cursing, which is nice). Heck, I’ve heard him praise PBR as casually as Pappy’s 15-Year bourbon. Here he is, getting busy with pouring:
This all means that when wife Nat and I went to Mistral recently (during the “soft opening” phase) we were probably going to be pretty forgiving, if needed. But to get around the whole “of course you’ll say nice things, you know them” I’m going to keep commentary at a minimum, and go the photogenic route (which is great for me, cause I’m, well, hot and so inclined to like the photogenic route). The quick summary, though, before the photos (did you think I’d back out of editorializing completely?): the savory food was still being worked out, but solid ingredient choices, if pretty straightforward preparations (this on the veggie side); the dessert-y food was interesting and delicious and architectural and a step above the savory right now; the cocktail food was, well, great. Now, onward. We had some roasted veggies, but they weren’t as good as the wood-roasted mushrooms:
And we had a vinaigrette’d green salad (good, but pretty spare), which wasn’t as good as the cheese plate:
With the meal, Nat had an Aviation cocktail (we both went classically at first, picking off the old-school short bar menu), which was dreamy and cloudy like a cloudy dream:
I had the Mint Julep, which was made just right, with the right crackity-cracked ice, the right metal julep cup, and the right healthy amount of bourbon. Pretty, even:
For dessert, we had the Ultra Brownie, and it was ultra creamy chocolate goodness, but topped, I felt, by the Walnut Honey Cake (the desserts, made by chef Neil Robertson, both kicked sugary ass though), which came with rich figs and homemade (natch) chestnut ice cream:
With desserts, Nat had a fresh cocktail that Andrew had recently been working on (as an aside: isn’t it always swell to be able to be one of the first to taste a new drink? I think it’s swell), which mixed 1 ounce gin, 1/2 ounce kirsch, 1 ounce blanc (not dry) vermouth, and 1/2 ounce orgeat. It was really jumping (or frolicking) with the balance of dry to sweet right on. And, he called it the Tauntaun. Geeks, rejoice:
For my last drink, I had a Fernet Old Fashioned, which Andrew had been telling me about, and about who originally created it, but now I can’t find the email. Maybe he’ll be so kind as to leave the info and the instructions in the comments. Though he is busy. But not that busy (so get to it, Andrew). Anywho, before starting an online booze war, let me say that I dig Fernet, and this drink was the tops. I love the phat orange rind, and the ice ball, and the bitter-after-dinner experience that is summed up in this glass:
That’s the Mistral Kitchen kids, well worth a visit, especially if you belly up to the bar and let the cocktails roll. Just be sure to order a drink with an orange peel:
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.
Just two on this lucky day–but two good ones (well, one good drink and one good post). And it’s lucky because A: it’s Friday the 13th (I tend to want to turn around bad luck omens on their heads, so I think of this day as lucky for anyone not camping near a lake. But if you’re silly enough to do that on a day like today, then, well, maybe it’s best you are camping near that lake), and B: yesterday was pal and rapidly-shaking Seattle bartender Andrew Bohrer’s birthday. In honor of said luck, here are two links from his blog, CaskStrength. A blog that’s been a little lonely lately, but only because he just opened a new bar, Naga (which I mentioned more in-depthly here), and is working ferociously to ensure you (yep, you) get the best drinks possible. Which means, if you want to be really, truly lucky, you’ll head out to restaurant Chantanee where bar Naga is (doubly lucky, by the way, cause the food in the restaurant is just amazingly tasty: have the crispy spicy tofu before you dodder on into the afterworld or call your life incomplete), and have him mix you up a drink. Then buy him one for his birthday. And then have him mix you up one. And so on, into the sunset.
Penelope’s Pit Stop: This is way deep in a longer post about elfin-magic-potion Chartreuse, but any drink that combines tequila and the just-mentioned Chartreuse and lemon juice and a muddle pear for gawd’s sake demands to be tried. Or at least be talked about. Or, if not that, be thought about for the rest of this day (a Friday, after all) until you can’t take it any more and rush home to make yourself one. That’s my take on it.
How to Carve an Ice Ball: Okay, this isn’t a drink at all, but whiskey is a drink, and one that I (and most I know) have all by its lonesome on occasion, over a bit of ice usually, and this post from Andrew is about carving an ice ball to serve your whisky over, so as to maximize the ratio of ice to booze. It’s pretty darn cool. And Andrew has ice balls at Naga (and if anyone doesn’t have a childish, 12-yr-old boy laugh at the phrase “Andrew has ice balls at Naga” then they need to go soak their head), and is a bit obsessed with ice balls (I saw him carving one on the bus once), so it’s a worthy post to read.
