September 1, 2015

Paul Clarke’s The Cocktail Chronicles Is Out – And You Should Get It!

paul-clarke-2Paul Clarke is a swell guy. I once compared him to an Anthony Trollope quote and he never complained (it was quite a good quote!). He writes a blog, and has since time began, more or less, called The Cocktail Chronicles, which I read a lot, but was always too shy to comment on – and he still says “hello” when I see him at local Seattle bars. He also is now editor-at-large for the insightfully-tipsy Imbibe, and has written for most of the good mags, online and off. Through all that, he’s been a witty, learned (in the best ways, like, say Dr. Johnson, but with drinks instead of dictionaries), educating, tasteful, and bespectacled voice throughout the cocktail resurgence and renaissance. And now he has a book! It’s called The Cocktail Chronicles (which is logical, as it feels a very thorough extension, in a way, of the blog): Navigating The Cocktail Renaissance with Jigger, Shaker, and Glass, and it’s darn good. It has enough history-of-booze-and-drinks to satisfy the history buffs, and enough humor to satisfy the humor buffs. And enough drinks for a whole year’s worth of parties, and then a few more on top.

If you, like me, are a home bartender who actually, you know, likes to read, you’ll love this, and find much to make your evenings more enjoyable. If you’re a pro bartender, then, well, I consider you a failure of sorts if you don’t devour this book as part of your professional education (oh, buy one of mine, too, cause I need new shoes). If you can’t tell, I think it’s a darn fine book. And I didn’t even mentioned the design, which has a certain 1920s style all its own, with fine drawings and layouts and balance as opposed to over-wrought stylized foodie shots. Which is refreshing.

Not sold? Hmm, maybe you should read the below excerpt, a drink recipe for the Blood and Sand. You’ll understand my enthusiasm once you do, trust me.

The below is from Paul Clarke’s The Cocktail Chronicles: Navigating The Cocktail Renaissance with Jigger, Shaker, and Glass

BLOOD AND SAND
Spoiler alert: the recipe includes neither.

Some legacies deserve permanence, while others could use a little cleanup.

On the permanence side there’s Rudolf Valentino, the actor who, in 1922, starred as an ill–fated matador in Blood and Sand. In 1926, just a few years before the advent of talkies would destroy the careers of many of his co- stars, Valentino shared that Blood and Sand was his favorite of his films; a few days later, he was dead from peritonitis, leaving only the legacy of a dashingly handsome star who would never age, and whose voice would never be heard.

The Blood and Sand cocktail, however, has a less–illustrious legacy. Its print debut was in 1930 as an equal–parts recipe in the Savoy Cocktail Book, but following its revival during the cocktail renaissance, the Blood and Sand began to suffer from its own imperfections. Fact of the matter, the Savoy’s Blood and Sand just isn’t all that great. Oh, it can be nice when made well, but “nice” isn’t the same thing as “holy hell, that’s scrumptious.”

But craft bartenders like to tinker, and many have taken a crack at the Blood and Sand’s formula. Some boost the whisky’s profile by increasing its volume in the drink as well as by utilizing smokier, burlier styles. Others tweak the orange juice’s insipid contribution, either swapping in the juice of blood oranges or adding lemon to the mix; and others just chuck three of the ingredients down the sink and drink the whisky on its own without all the fanfare.

Nothing against straight Scotch, but the Blood and Sand’s legacy is one worth preserving. Tip one to Valentino, and don’t view the recipe specs with anything resembling rigidity.

BLOOD AND SAND

1 oz. blended Scotch whisky
1 oz. orange juice
3/4 oz. sweet vermouth
3/4 oz. Cherry Heering

Glass: cocktail
Garnish: cherry
Method: Shake ingredients with ice to chill; strain into chilled glass. Garnish.

Tips: Give the whisky’s power a jolt by bumping the Scotch to 11/2 oz.  and dropping everything else to 3/4 oz., or keep the above proportions and instead swap a blended malt like Great King Street or a single malt like Highland Park 12 for the blended Scotch. You can also add a teaspoon of lemon juice to give it a little more pep, or substitute blood–orange juice for the OJ. And if you put a slice of orange in the shaker before mixing, it’ll give the cocktail an added—and welcome—dimension.

December 20, 2011

It’s Not Too Late for a Bitters Beautiful Holiday

I know, I know, I’m a little late to the party (which doesn’t happen as often as you might think, unless I’m going to like 5 parties in one night). In this case, I’m specifically referring to the Bitters party. If you don’t know about the Bitters party, then I’m glad to be the one to invite you. In this case, I’m not speaking of bitters in the larger sense, but Bitters in the sense of Brad Thomas Parsons’ wonderful book of the same name, a book which will (if you get on it and get to ordering) make your holiday season the jolliest, not to mention making every shin-dig you throw in 2012 tastier. To roll out the full title, Bitters: A Spirited History of a Classic Cure-All, with Cocktails, Recipes, and Formulas is packed with (you might expect this) recipes for bitters, recipes for cocktails with bitters, and recipes for culinary delights with bitters. But it also is bubbling with (and this you might not expect, cause few books deliver on it) histories, stories, and most of all darn fine writing of all of the above. See, Mr. Parsons isn’t just a recipe developer, or a cocktail cultivator, or a historical researcher of food trends and triumphs throughout the years. Though he is all of those things, he’s also a darn fine storyteller and yarn-spinner, and it’s the stories and his always charming writing that makes the book such a fine read and such a boon bar companion (much like the man himself). But heck, I’m gushing like a teenager. Here’s my final word–don’t take my word for the brilliance of Bitters. Go on and get yourself a copy. Because you certainly don’t want a mundane holiday season, or a boring 2012. And Bitters will make both better.

 

Rathbun on Film