December 11, 2018

Watch Me Nay Nay at Seattle Magazine

Chinatown-International District bar Dynasty RoomHello dancing friends! Recently, I went down with some pals to a rad bar in Seattle called the Dynasty Room (interestingly, it’s in a building set to be demolished, so get there while you can), and had a drink called Watch Me Nay Nay, a drink created by bar manager Michael Chu and Morgan Marchant. It was delish (and had things like mescal and rose’), and then I got to write about it for the sweet Seattle magazine. And now you can read about it! Everyone wins when you check out my Watch Me Nay Nay article now.

December 4, 2018

Seattle Magazine Cocktail Catch Up

Baby, it’s cold outside. But my recent pieces on the Seattle magazine blog will warm you right up – because they’re about bars, and drinks, and spirits, and such, all of which are the warming-est things in the world, outside of a good dog, that is. So, what are you waiting for? Warm up with these:

 

November 6, 2018

A Rose in the Fall at Seattle Magazine

Recently (in the full scope of time) got to go down to a newish bar in Seattle, called Black Cat, and I loved it, with its amazing metal-album-cover mural, friendly staff, fun and tasty drinks, and owner Dustin Haarstad, who makes a swell cocktail and is a darn friendly fellow himself. While there, I had a fantastic Calvados-based cocktail called A Rose in the Fall, and then (because I have a nice guardian angel) I got to write about the drink and the spot for the smiley Seattle magazine. You should go read all about A Rose in the Fall, and visit Black Cat, too. You’ll be happy, I’ll be happy, they’ll be happy, and the world needs more happy.

October 9, 2018

Cocktail Talk: The Black Angel, Part II

Image result for the black angel woolrichBe sure to delve into our first Black Angel Cocktail Talk post, to dig into more about why I like Cornell Woolrich, and what you’ll be in for when you (as you should) read his books and short stories. He doesn’t have a lot of cocktailing always (though I’ve had some past Cornell Cocktail Talks), but in The Black Angel, I found one of my favorite bar descriptions – I love a good bar description – as well as the earlier post (which, funny enough, takes place in the bar being described). I want to go to this bar:

“That’s it, then” he said. “Now I’ll tell you where. I know a little room, a midget cocktail bar, just around the corner from the Ritz. Can’t miss it. It’s called the Blues-Chaser. And it’s like that, really. There’s never too much of a crowd there, and that way we won’t have to run too much interference. We have a date now, don’t forget.” “All right, we have a date.”
. . .
The place itself was intimate, confidence-inspiring, made to order for just such a rendezvous as ours. A regular postage stamp of a cocktail lounge; I’d never yet been in one as small. Heavily carpeted and hushed, but hushed in a relaxing, cozy way, not depressingly hushed. It was a little gem of a place, and I wonder now if it’s still there.

–Cornell Woolrich, The Black Angel

August 21, 2018

Seattle Magazine Cocktail Catch Up

You know, there’s nothing better than a good summer read. With a good summer drink. And with that, I’m hoping you’ve been keeping up to date on my latest pieces for the super Seattle Magazine? Well, if you haven’t, don’t sweat it, I have links to a few recent favs for you below. They’ll make your summer even finer.

 

 

August 14, 2018

Cocktail Talk: Hot Summer, Cold Murder, Part II

Image result for hot summer, cold murderThe memorably-titled, Wichita-based, PI-featuring, crime-and-criminals riddled, mystery and murder-packed pocket-style book Hot Summer, Cold Murder by Gaylord Dodd had too many Cocktail Talk moments to just have one post from it (if you missed Hot Summer, Cold Murder Part I, then please read it now, as it’ll give you more background). I actually like this quote even more than the first, though it doesn’t feature muscatel, our hero’s (hero of sorts, that is) favorite summertime tipple. But the below quote is a fabulous one, summing up a certain type of bar at a certain time period perfectly:

Tom Silver’s big red and white face swam in an ocean of bar glasses hanging from a rack above the bar. He was the perfect bartender. He spoke when spoken to and otherwise stood leaning against the counter with his arms folded across the massive pad of his enormous gut. The drinks he made were clean and when you ordered call-booze you got what you called. When some woman you were with ordered a Gin Fizz or a Gold Cadillac, Tom made it quickly, correctly, and without the condescending leer of the bartender whose only desire is to stir a jigger of whiskey into a six-ounce tumbler with Seven-Up.

“Waddle it be, Mr. Roberts?”
“Old Grandad with water back, please Tom.”
“Yes, sir.”

— Gaylord Dodd, Hot Summer, Cold Murder

June 26, 2018

Cocktail Talk: The Prettiest Girl I Ever Killed

Image result for The Vengeance Man / Park Avenue TrampJust last week, I highlighted a Cocktail Talk quote from an old noir novel called Park Avenue Tramp, which (as detailed there) was part of a Stark House Noir Classics collection that features three out-of-print noir novels all together. These collections are really worthy reads if you dig the pulps, noirs, and pocketbooks-with-saucy-covers, because they feature books not easily picked up today. In this collection, I liked all three reads, but my favorite might have been The Prettiest Girl I Ever Killed, by Charles Runyon. A small town serial killer search, in a way, it moved fast, had a fair amount of twists and turns, tight and creative lingo and well-written prose-ing, and a female lead who showed some gumption. All good stuff! And a good Cocktail Talk quote about a country bar, which you’ll see below.

It was a little gas station and honky-tonk; the kind you see around the country with names like Burntwood Inn and Cozy Dell. This one was called Pine Cover Tavern and was crowded (there was no work in the fields because of the rain) with men in overalls and a couple of women in print dresses. We drew stares as we walked to a booth in the back. I felt wicked and daring, and though it was unlikely that any Shermanites would see me, I found that I didn’t really care if they did. I told Curt to order me a boilermaker: a glass of beer with a shot of bourbon inside it. He ordered the same for himself and drank silently for a few minutes.

–Charles Runyon, The Prettiest Girl I Ever Killed

June 19, 2018

Cocktail Talk: Park Avenue Tramp

Image result for The Vengeance Man / Park Avenue TrampRecently got my hands on another one of the superb (if you’re into such things, which I hope you are, so we can be friends and all that, though of course we could maybe still be friends even if you aren’t, but it’s not quite as easy) Stark House Noir Classics collections. Often these are collections of out-of-print books by a single author, but in this one, there are three authors from the pulp-y period. All are worthy reads – your favorite is up to you – but the one I’m highlighting here is Park Avenue Tramp, a book by Fletcher Flora (great name, too, and one I hadn’t been acquainted with before) about booze, a dangerous (in a sort-of different way) broad, a piano player, and bleakness in the best way, the way true noir books deliver it. Enough so that I was fairly, oh, downbeat for a moment when finishing this tale. Then I moved on to the next one (which is nice in these collections). A bar plays a central role, too, which is also nice, and where we get the below Cocktail Talk quote from.

She looked at him gravely and decided that he was undoubtedly a superior bartender, which would make him very superior indeed. It might seem unlikely on first thought that a superior bartender would be working in a little unassuming bar that was only trying to get along, but on second thought it didn’t seem unlikely at all, for it was often the little unassuming places that had genuine quality and character and were perfectly what they were supposed to be, which was rare, and it was exactly such a place in which a superior bartender would want to work, even at some material sacrifice. She felt a great deal of respect for this honest and dedicated bartender. She was certain that she could rely on him implicitly.
“Perhaps you can help me,” she said. “In your opinion, what have I been drinking?”
“You look like a Martini to me,” he said.
“Really, a Martini?”
“That’s right. The second you came in I said to myself that you were a Martini.”

–Fletcher Flora, Park Avenue Tramp

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