Some (foolish ones) think a marathon is just a race ran a certain number of miles from point A to point B. When, actually, many things (life, even, if you know the full story) are marathons, going from one point to another. Heck, maybe that’s just the way it feels today though. Whichever case you’re in to, it’s nice to have a good drink to sip after the marathon is over, or before the marathon happens, or to sip instead of running at all (my choice). I think the Class of the Race is ideal for these situations, with its classy blend of bubbly, bourbon, Bénédictine, Peychaud’s, and a touch of simply syrup. Learn to make it (and watch a real marathon ending with it) in the below video, filmed by Dr. Gonzo (genius—have you emailed him about getting your quarterly free Khaos Apocrypher by the way?) and featuring a troop of serious runners. Or drinkers.

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:

I (along with wife Nat) got the nicest batch of ginger snaps recently from pal Jill M (her husband, pal Ed, has a book just out called Mister Skylight that you should buy, by the way). The snaps were a bit more cookie-y than many ginger snaps (so, not crisp like some traditional ginger biscuits, and nowhere near ginger nuts, or, for that matter ginger balls. And yes, I just said ginger balls. But now my traffic skyrockets), but with goodly ginger flavor and a little bit of chewiness. I liked them lots, and ate lots of them. But then I started thinking: there is a baker’s dozen of them, maybe I should make a drink using them as a garnish? This is the way my mind works. And, I was also thinking (I have up to three trains of thought at once: right now, they consist of writing this post, thinking about a post on the comics blog Progressive Ruin that combines Adam West Batman with Dark Night Batman, and musing about how the leaning tower of Pisa doesn’t fall over) that with the holiday season you might want to know about a drink that uses ginger snaps as a garnish. Cause the snaps tend to show up this time of year.

So, I wanted a ginger-y drink, but one also with some other funtastic flavors. Which led to me playing around with this VeeV Acai (it’s a super fruit!) Spirit I’d had sent to me recently and Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur. The Veev is pretty sprightly with some tropical hints, the DdeC is very gingery and touch sweet, and at first the playing around wasn’t coming out quite right–until I added ol’ reliable, sweet vermouth. Its bit of holy herbal-ness completely rounded out the edges of the other two, and all-of-sudden I was in ginger-island-holiday-paradise. I suggest you stock up on all of the ingredients so you can get to this paradise, too (and because you may just need a drink before the month’s out. The holidays aren’t all sunshine).

Ice cubes

1-1/2 ounces VeeV Acai spirit

1 ounce Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur

1/2 ounce sweet vermouth

Ginger snap or cookie, for garnish

1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add everything except the cookie. Shake well.

2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with that cookie (I had to notch it just a bit for proper rim balancing. But after that, I did a lot of dunking with it).

It’s Thanksgiving week, which means I’m too busy stretching my stomach to post much (and to anyone who says, “you don’t post much on any week” I say “go soak your head”), but I did want to remind you to save a little cranberry sauce from the big feast so you can be sure to have your Gizmo on Friday. Or Thursday night. Cause you wouldn’t want to miss out.

Wait, what, you don’t know the Gizmo? Well, it’s a dandy way to utilize those leftovers, a cocktail created for this very purpose by bar-and-kitchen-and-drug boy genius Jeremy Holt, aka, the HuksyBoy. Here’s the lowdown:

Ice cubes

2-1/2 ounces gin (Aviation is nice)

1 ounce homemade cranberry sauce

1/2 ounce simple syrup (optional)

1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin and cranberry sauce, and syrup if using (if you’re not into the sweets, omit the syrup). Shake exceptionally well.

2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a turkey leg. Or, for vegetarians, a hunk of stuffing on a toothpick.

A Note: Not sure about making homemade cranberry sauce? Try this (also courtesy HB): Add 1 bag cranberries, the juice and zest of 1 orange, and 1 cup sugar to a saucepan. Heat until required sauce texture is reached.

Now, you know why you need to save a little sauce. And why you should buy that Jeremy a drink next time you see him.

“Me & Mint” sorta sounds like a kids book, where you learn about life in a very colorful manner. Mint in that book is either an older relative or a sick friend, or maybe a dog that’s not friendly at first, or a monkey that eats your baseball cards. In a very other sense, it’s one of my favorite herbs, and one that (luckily) is usually available, and so, so delectable in drinks. It’s also profiled in this week’s iSpice column on the Washington Post site, following either the first link in this sentence or this link. In that column, I rhapsodize a bit about mint, along with some others, and also talk about how to use it in drinks (and no, I’m not going to tell you here what I said there–that’s not what the interweb is about, people). They also have my recipe for the Iollas’ Itch in the column, which is from my new book Dark Spirits, a book I’m gonna write more about soon. Here’s the recipe (though this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t click to the column, just that you should have a drink while reading it).

3 fresh mint leaves, plus 1 fresh mint sprig for garnish

Ice cubes

2 ounces rye

1. Rub (carefully but firmly) the 3 mint leaves all around the inside of a cocktail glass. Then discard them.

3. Strain into the minty glass from above. Garnish with the mint sprig.

PS: Happy Friday to you, too.

Well, as much as I’ve loved the Chow tips (which have been loved by Leslito and Scharrer as well, at least, cause they have good taste in tips), and loved doing the tipping with Chow folks, I have to announce this is the last one, which might be an occasion for tears (like when you watch the last episode of Garth Marenghi’s Dark Place and realize there aren’t any more episodes for reasons only the devil knows, and he ain’t telling). But, on the flip side, it’s also an occasion for joyous laughter, merriment, and drunken revelry, cause (as I mentioned below), this particular tip is the most capitally cowabungaing Chow tip laid out in lovely fashion on the liquory Spiked Punch yet: a tip for creating your own captivating limoncello. Ah, limoncello, the Italian sun god of liqueurs. I like it when I’ve eaten a lot, and when I haven’t eaten enough, when it’s mixed up in a Princess with soda and raspberries (in wife Natalie’s recipe, which you can find in Good Spirits if you need to) and when it’s served solo. I like it, period, people. And you will to, so watch this tip and get your own started today (really, do it. The store-bought stuff’s never as good. And the recipe’s from Luscious Liqueurs, if you need to read things in the old-timey traditional manner).

PS: Want to catch up on all Chow tips. Here they are: #1, #2, #3, #4.

For my fourth (out of five, you lucky people) tip filmed with the fine culinary and drinkingary folks at Chow, I delve into the deep nature of ingredient order. In drinks (well, what did you think?). Also, I make a Bronx (which you’ll love–you love a Bronx right? Named after the zoo? You should be having one now. Or after you watch the video), and my cheeks shake a little while I’m shaking the drink, which is a nice human touch. Because I’m not a robot people. Oh, if you haven’t watched the other Chow tips yet, get to it. Here they are: #1, #2, #3. And one more to come (yay!), and it’s the most tantalizingly terrific tip to make it to Spiked Punch yet.

Not too too long ago (I mean, I am a bit tardy on this, but not, say, a year behind, or even three months, and if we didn’t have the interweb and the telephone and whatnots, and communication came via Pony Express, I’d be totally on time), pal Becca from the tasty Key Notes with Becca was talking up her newly planted basil in a post, and thinking about all the dishes she might make with it, and generally giving a big “yay!” at the thought of fresh basil. A sentiment I second. But (and you knew that “but” was heading your way), none of her ideas had anything to do with a basil drink. Which is a shame, cause she’s a boozehound. No, no, I kid. She’s not hitting the bottle at the break of day, but neither is opposed to a nice cocktail and, knowing this, I said we should try to come up with basil drinks. Which leads to Tareva’s Tipple.

A friendly mystical kind of a mix (when you remember that basil has had a few theoretical–as far as I know–mystic connotations in the past), Tareva’s Tipple is good for a summer’s evening when you’re sitting on the deck reading a few issues of your favorite comic (and yeah, you have one, even if you don’t admit it) with the pups frolicking around you. It probably shouldn’t be too hot, cause there’s some muddling during the making and you don’t want to sweat. And you probably shouldn’t be planning on driving to the drive-in after having three of these, because there’s a double-delicious-whammy of sorts, due to the combo of gin and grappa (balanced out in the grand scheme of things by the basil and a bit of simple syrup). I used Aviation gin cause its floral notes play well with the basil, and Soft Tail Reserve grappa because it’s got that get-up-and-get-at-it underlying umph as well as some plays-well-with-others flavorings. The end result might not actually be a potion, but might leave you spellbound (if I can wax magically for a moment). Fresh basil’s the key, naturally, and best if just plucked before using.

6 or 7 fresh basil leaves, plus one for garnish

1/2 ounce simple syrup

Ice cubes

2 ounces gin

3/4 ounce grappa

1. Add all the basil leaves minus that last one and the simple syrup to a cocktail shaker. Using a muddler, muddle well.

2. Fill the shaker halfway full with ice cubes, and then add the gin and grappa. Shake well.

3. Strain into a cocktail glass, and garnish with the remaining basil leaf. Enjoy.

A Note: Wife Nat thought I used a bit too much grappa, when I was using 1 full ounce, so I scaled it back. But you can scale it up if you’re feeling frisky.

PS: If anyone can tell me right now without using the Googler who “Tareva” was, in decent detail, then I will buy you a drink that can cost up to $15. So, a fancy-pants drink.

PPS: If anyone can tell me after using the Googler who “Tareva” was, I still might buy you a drink, but not if you’ve consulted this guy, who would obviously know. And yeah, that’s a serious hint.

I wanted to call this post “Drinking Cats” as a balance to the below two cats drinking, but then I figured I’d get all kinds of weirdo traffic flowing in (instead of the regular weirdo traffic–ba-dump-bump. I kid, I kid). And who knows if that weirdo traffic would enjoy this newly minted (or, at least, fairly newly shaken) combination of gin, absinthe, pineapple juice, and a touch of simple syrup, accented by a lemon twist if you’re feeling it. And I’m feeling it, so you should be too (said in my drunken-two-year-old voice). I say hit up the Aviation gin here if you can, cause House Spirits rocks the party. Oh, and it tastes freaking great, like a springtime daydream. I used Lucid absinthe, which is pretty darn swell, too. But if you want to play around with other gins (Bluecoat might be interesting, and Dry Fly) or absinthes (like the mighty Marteau) then start experimenting with your Panther’s Paw. It won’t bite. Though after a couple, you may feel slightly paw’d. But maybe you like that? Wait, I know the answer to that question already.

Ice cubes

1-1/2 ounce Aviation gin

1 ounce Lucid absinthe

3/4 ounce pineapple juice

1/4 ounce simple syrup

Lemon slice, for garnish (optional)

1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin, absinthe, pineapple juice, and simple syrup. Shake well.

2. Strain the mix into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the lemon slice if that’s what makes your panther purr.

1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the rum, lime juice, ginger liqueur, and simple syrup. Shake well.

2. Strain the mix into a flute. Top with the rosé sparkling wine. Garnish with that lime slice.