January 25, 2012
Well, here’s a heck of a thing: those wacky wild folks at Seattle Magazine have decided (when tipsy, I’m guessing) to have me write their Bar Hop column every month. Not sure just what they’d been imbibing when we signed the contracts (which I can’t seem to find now . . .), but they offered and I nodded. It’s not a lot of words, but I plan on making each one bubbly. But wait, what is the Bar Hop column you ask? Well, every month it’s now me highlighting a different local bar/lounge/watering hole/speakeasy/booze parlor/hooch pad, talking about what said snozzled spot is about so you know where to get your drink on. The first Bar Hop article is on Sun Liquor Distillery, where you can go and have a drink with Sun’s Hedgetrimmer gin right where it’s made. A fine, fine thing I think (oh, if you don’t have the new issue of Seattle Magazine, then go get it. Or, read the Sun Liquor Bar Hop column online).
January 18, 2012
I feel that I can write about aging. I mean, my nephew just turned sixteen, so I feel pretty darn aged. But (ah-ha!, the “but”) in this particular case, I’m talking about aging cocktails. As you might expect, this blog being at least nominally about cocktails and not about me musing on my ever-increasing years. Some Seattle bars (such as Liberty, whose swell owner Andrew is pictured to the left), like bars in other cocktail hot-towns, have in the last year or so gotten into this idea of aging cocktails, usually in oak (but sometimes not), to see what it does to the cocktail’s taste. Which leads, often, to tasty things for us cocktail lovers. All of which led to me writing a fairly short, but incredibly awesome (I say, humbly) article on aged cocktails here in the Emerald City for the sweet Seattle Magazine. You, if you’re interested in Seattle bars, cocktails, aging cocktails, booze, bars, or me talking about my grandfather, should go and read it now.
October 20, 2011
Yes, I know, I’ve talked lots about the Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz release party that was at the Rob Roy a week or so ago. And I’ve posted a couple drinks from the book, and made a short video about joining the GBVF Army, that talks a bit about the book. But I haven’t given (I don’t think) the book a proper overview here yet, for those who may have missed the party and aren’t quite sure why they need a copy. So, first, a quick overview, and then (second) some fun facts.
Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz is designed in a very particular manner. Unlike other numerous classic and modern cocktail tomes available that break out chapters by base spirit (gin, vodka, brandy, whiskey, tequila, and sometimes Champagne), or the fine volumes that are alphabetical by drink, or the other worthy reads (including a few by yours truly) that break chapters out by theme, this book is divided into chapters by flavor profile. By “flavor profile” I’m talking about what the flavor is of a particular liqueur that’s responsible for the personality and taste of a drink. There’s a chapter on A Liquid Citrus Circus, for example, containing recipes highlighted by the vast panoply of fun orange and other citrus liqueurs, and a chapter that reminds you to Take Your Herbal Medicine that contains darker, more intense, herbal liqueurs that are popping up more regularly. There’s also a chapter detailing The Justice League of Vermouths–though they aren’t specifically liqueurs, vermouths and their cousins are also part of the path to joining the GBVF Army–and other flavor specific chapters. By breaking out the chapters in this flavor-oriented way, it makes it easier to plan a party around a few signature drinks as well as easier to find a particular drink matching up with what you’re craving. The idea is to make it a snap for you to pick out a few signature drinks to make any gathering sparkle: from parties of many people to those that are just you and a significant other.
Okay, now that you know a bit about the book in general, here are some specific facts you might not know:
- GBVF has over 200 recipes, some lesser-known classics, some from here and there, and a bunch from modern pro-and-home bartenders, including recipes from: Andrew Bohrer, Ed Skoog, Matt Bohlmann, Jeffrey Morgenthaler, LUPEC Boston, Jeremy Sidener, Paul Abercrombie, Meaghan Dorman, Jay Hepburn, Robert Hess, Yuri Kato, Augusto Lino, Kelly, Magyarics, Thad Volger, Kara Newman, Jim Romdall, David Shenaut, Doug Winship, Erik Ellestad, Chantal Tseng, and probably a few others I’m forgetting a will feel bad about later. Look these fine people up and support them.
- There are at least 14 mentions of comic book or comic strip characters, including two Dr. Strange references (to make Neilalien happy) and a whole chapter called The Justice League of Vermouths (to make pal PhiSmi happy).
- There is one current NBA basketballer mentioned (Andrew Bogut) and three past ballers (Gary Payton, Shawn Kemp, and Nate McMillan).
- There are a number of sidebars to help you pick drinks for specific party occasions, including 4 Drinks for Fishing.
- One drink is named after a short short story by the novelist J. Robert Lennon. Guess which one?
- There are 27 Liqueur Spotlights, which go deeper into the taste, history, and personality of individual liqueurs.
- There are two mentions of Tom Waits, and one drink (The Hounds They Start To Roar) named from a Tom Waits lyric. There is also one mention of the little known Kansas City band Shooting Star.
- Perhaps the best Cocktail Talk type quote in the book is from Paul Holt and is on page 208 and reads thusly:
Perhaps, after all, it is best to stick to Pernod, if the sartorial consequences of imbibing interest you as much as they do me. This if only for the reason that however you start off drinking the stuff, you’re bound to end up more or less naked.
- Perhaps the best quote from the book itself (meaning, written by me) is “Charles H. Baker was the Grand Funk Railroad of his time.”
- There are sidebars pointing to classic cocktail books, favorite new cocktail books, favorite booze blogs, boozy poem quotes, and other ways to stock your literal and electronic libraries.
- Finally, the first drink in the book is the 14 Juillet and the last is the Ti Penso Sempre.
Now, you know a bit more about Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz. So, whacha waiting for? Join the GBVF Army today!
Tags: Bars, bartenders, cocktail recipe, Cocktail Recipes, Comics, Dr. Strange, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, liquers, Tom Waits
Posted in: Bars, Ed Skoog, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, Liqueurs, Recipes
October 4, 2011
The Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz Rob Roy release party is only 4 days away (it’s happening, if you’ve been in the outback, on 10/8, from 2 to 4), and I’m already twitching with excitement about having one of the wonderful drinks bartender supremo Andrew Bohrer will be whipping up with penultimate panache. He’s doing two from the book, the Bitter Handshake and the Bruja Smash, the latter of which I’m going to tempt you with today. It’s an kind-of-crushed-ice-y affair, using one of my all-time favs, Italian spicy (as in, using spices like saffron) and gold liqueur Strega, alongside tequila and some fruity goodness all mixed up with balance, care, and craft. And muscles. Jeez, if that’s not enough to start mouths a-watering, then I suppose I’ll put the recipe here, right now:
Crushed ice
7 fresh mint leaves
7 fresh raspberries
1-1/2 ounces white tequila
1 ounce Strega
1/2 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 mint sprig, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with crushed ice. Add the mint leaves, raspberries, tequila, Strega, and lemon juice. Shake really well.
2. Dump the contents of the shaker (no straining here) into a large tulip-style beer glass or other good-sized pretty vessel.
3. Fill the glass with crushed ice, garnish with the mint sprig, and serve with a straw.
PS: In the actually GBVF version of the Bruja Smash, I talk a lot about ol’ greenskin, the Incredible Hulk. How? Why? Well, you’ll have to get a copy, friends, to find out. And you can, this Saturday. See you there.
Tags: Andrew Bohrer, Bars, cocktail recipe, Cocktail Recipes, GBVF, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, Strega, Tequila, What I'm Drinking
Posted in: Almost Drinkable Photo, Bars, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, Italy, Liqueurs, Recipes, Tequila, What I'm Drinking
August 11, 2011
Stopped in with pal Andrew (he of the mighty Cask Strength) and wife Nat to Oliver’s Twist the other night, and had a few fine tasting drinks courtesy of English gin. See, Andrew (when he’s not mixing drinks) is an evangelist of sorts for English Gins (a group consisting of Plymouth and Beefeater gins I believe), an English Gins Connoisseur if you want to be formal, and so he was happy to buy us a few drinks if we’d listen to him talk up the gins. Heck, we’d probably listen to him talk about anything from the Misfits teevee show to the blue-eyed idol of millions if he’d buy us drinks. Especially when the drinks were as tasty as these’uns. I started with a drink of his own making called the Signal to Noise:
It had Plymouth gin, a smooch of lime juice and a smooch of orgeat and a dash of Angostura. It really allowed the gin to shine, which I dug immensely. Nat started with something off the house board, the Jasmine (which in this incarnation I believe combined gin with Cointreau, Campari, and lemon):
We both followed up with a drink created by Robert, who was our handy bartender. I believe it had gin, Aperol, and a few other choice ingredients, but know for a fact it was very icy and refreshing and sippable:
Nat had another of those un-named beauties for her final cocktail, while I headed back in time to a recent un-buried favorite (which is in this cocktail book that comes out soon-ish), the Bijou, which brings together sweet vermouth and green Chartreuse with gin and a twist:
All-in-all, my thanks to the dedicated men and women who make English gins, plus thanks to Andrew and Robert, too, for providing us with a delish evening.
March 23, 2011
When they’re talked of (which is a lot, one hopes), the Bronte sisters (Charlotte, Emily, and Anne) aren’t usually referred to as party animals. This is, of course, a crying shame. As their books are filled with well-rounded characters, and usually contain a wee tipple or tippling, or a bar, and mostly entertaining writing that pulls you in, as opposed to pushing you out, my thought is that for the years they lived within the sisters were a rollicking good time, and probably were thought of somewhat in the same way we think of modern party animal writers like J. Robert Lennon and Andrew Greer (at least when those two modern scribes are wearing hoop skirts). In any case, the Spiked Punch is going to dwell for two posts on quotes from Charlotte’s novel Shirley, published in 1849 and as worthy a read (I think) as her much more fawned over Jane Eyre (though admittedly I like me the Jane Eyre, too). This first quote falls into the “bar” shelf in the Cocktail Talk kitchen, and describes lovingly a 1800s watering hole (and I have a confession–I think longingly of whisky-and-water myself on occasion):
He looked for certain landmarks–the spire of Briarfield Church; farther on, the lights of Redhouse. This was an inn; and when he reached it, the glow of a fire through a half-curtained window, a vision of glasses on a round table, and of revelers on an oaken settle, had nearly drawn aside the curate from his course. He thought longingly of a tumbler of whisky-and-water.
–Shirley, Charlotte Bronte
September 24, 2010
For the last poem in In Their Cups week 2010 (celebrating the release and release party this Sunday for In Their Cups and the drinking poems contained therein, as if you didn’t know), I wanted to highlight one of the two poems in book by Ed Skoog (I should mention though, that he also has translations in the book from three languages–you’ll have to look to find out which languages). Without Ed, In Their Cups would have been called “Cups with Holes” and been awfully leaky, cause he not only let me put poems and translations of his own in the book, but helped me track down more poems that made the cut and are in the book, gave advice on ordering of poems and sections, drank a lot with me during the putting together of the book, and was generally helpful in every way you can think of plus a few more you’d forgotten.
If you don’t know already, Ed is one of the best poets anywhere alive today–buy his book Mister Skylight and you will be changed–but is also a drink maker of some renown, a drink consumer of much renown, and a sweet banjo player to boot who can sing the high lonesome like few others (even after a few–let’s say 5-to-10–shots). If you ever are going into a bar for the long haul (which I’m guessing you will be, probably soon), bring him along. Or at least bring this poem of his about New Orleans’ Saturn Bar, a truly divine dive, along with you as an Ed sub.
The Last Saturn Bar Poem
Around the art barn, Mike Frolich’s bar-tab
bartered paintings hang the hell that rose with him
from the Gulf of Mexico floor too fast, torturing
blood with air: maniac fish, demon in a diving bell,
and then from cadmium sunset through marsh comes
the boat bearing forward in grand roving the name
O’Neal, our bartender. Theirs are the dreams we enter,
entering the Saturn Bar’s owly heat re-tooled for unlovely
loss, the rattled corner leaning away from Chartreuse, neat,
and when I’m able to dream jukebox damaged warbling,
a Saturn-like-thing opens within me, but this is the last
Saturn Bar poem–I’ll try, I’ll try–to stop singing
shadows of St. Claude and Clouet on security camera
pavement grays we keep talking about with increasing
reluctance, ready to move on to fresh bewilderments,
spiraling neon, neon that lights up my nameless shot.
–The Last Saturn Bar Poem, Ed Skoog
Tags: Bars, Cocktail Talk, drinking poems, Ed Skoog, In Their Cups, The Last Saturn Bar Poem
Posted in: Bars, Cocktail Talk, drinking poems, Drinking Writer, Ed Skoog, In Their Cups
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
