June 24, 2013

Caorunn Gin and Postal Service Goodies

As I’ve mentioned somewhere on here before (if you haven’t read every single post, now is a good time to do it), I here and there get random items in the mail. Sometimes, they’re dumb. Sometimes they’re okay. Rarely are they mind-blowingly cool. However, that recently happened, thanks to Caorunn Gin. See, one day, I came home from the zombie mines and found a package on my doorstep. In that package, was a bottle of gin, and this box:

caorunn-1

The gin looked good, but the box was intriguingly shaped, so I opened it, and inside there were two little shelves, each with some smallish glass jars on it. The first shelf had jars with samples of the 5 dried Celtic botanicals used in the gin (I forgot to mention, Caorunn is handcrafted small-batch Scottish gin. So, the Celtic connection isn’t coming out of left field). The second shelf had identical jars with the essences of the botanicals – little cotton balls with the oils of the botanicals. It looks like this:

caorunn-2

Neato, right? At first, I thought it was merely curiosity (and fantastic packaging, for sure), like a sideshow of sorts. But then as I started opening the jars one by one, and realizing how well they focused the aromas, it made more sense – especially when trying the gin alongside the smelling. The five botanicals are: rowan berry, bog myrtle, heather, dandelion, and coul blush apple (which sounds somewhat like they could also be mixed when you wanted to turn someone into a, oh, frog I suppose), and they really give the gin an intense and individual, flavor, aroma, and tail. But don’t think that it isn’t still like a gin. The juniper-ness of a London dry gin is still intact, just bolstered and backed by a hints of herbs and spice and a touch of sweet. Nice stuff. I haven’t tried mixing much with it yet, but am looking forward to it. Here’s the gin in bottle (interesting bottle shape as well) so you know to watch out for it:

caorunn-3

Now, if only everything in the mail was as interesting.

June 21, 2013

What I’m Drinking: The Last Word

This classic (and unburied treasure if there ever was one) owes its 21st century emergence to the legendary Seattle bartender Murray Stenson, who brought it back after tracking it down in an old bar book, and put it on the menu at the Zig Zag Café, where its lore started a new chapter, one that’s still expanding.

last-word

The Last Word

Ice cubes

3/4 ounce gin

3/4 ounce maraschino liqueur

3/4 ounce green Chartreuse

3/4 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice

1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin, maraschino, Chartreuse, and lime juice. Shake well.

2. Strain into a cocktail glass and drink without another syllable spoken.

June 4, 2013

Cocktail Talk: Black Friday

black-fridayDavid Goodis was once called “the poet of the losers” and while I’m not 100% sure that’s 100% apt, it fits pretty well. He wrote books that take “noir” and dip it in a syrup of painful luck combined with serious sadness. Perhaps the most famous (though not the only one made into a movie by the French, who love themselves some Goodis) is Shoot the Piano Player. A fine read. But the one I’ve just finished is Black Friday (which, by the way, has nothing outside of making you question the world in common with the day after Thanksgiving), in which a guy on the run for killing his brother steals a coat, runs into some bad men, then some bad women, then cuts a guy up a feeds him into the furnace . . . and it goes downhill from there. A fine read, which at one point ends up with a lot of gin being consumed:

Charley took the bottle and began pouring the gin into a water glass. He got the glass three-quarters full. He lifted the glass to his mouth and drank the gin as though it was water. The radio was playing more bebop. It was Dizzy Gillespie again and Dizzy’s trumpet went up and up and up and way up.

–David Goodis, Black Friday

May 31, 2013

What I’m Drinking: Summerjulashation

This is sort-of like a Julep in some ways, and like a Smash, and probably identically close to another classic recipes that use a booze, sweetening, crushed ice, and mint that I’m forgetting at this moment. None of that bothers me (does it bother you? Perhaps you’re at the wrong blog?), as the end result no matter what is a super refreshing, slightly spirituous, a wee bit sweet, flavorful icy drink that will make your summer parties sing. It can take some arm power to bust up ice into crushed ice, but you know what? I think you’re tough enough. And as mentioned, the end result is, well, smashing.

Summerjulashation

Summerjulashation

15 mint leaves, plus a couple mint sprigs

1/2 ounce simple syrup

Ice cubes

1-1/2 ounces gin (I used Bluewater Halcyon organic gin, and it was perfect)

1/2 ounce Pierre Ferrand orange curaçao

Cracked/crushed ice

1. Add the mint leaves and the simple syrup to a cocktail shaker. Muddle well.

2. Fill the shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin and the curaçao to the shaker. Shake well.

3. Fill a goblet or other snazzy glass with the cracked or crushed ice (this is a summer frothy delight, so pack that ice in there).

4. Strain the goods over the ice. Garnish with some mint sprigs. Put your feet up. Drink up.

PS: If you don’t think “Summerjulashation” is the best name for a summer drink ever, well, you suck.

May 24, 2013

Drinks on the Road, San Francisco, Part II, Absinthe, Plus the Pegu

Beyond Blackbird (which I detailed earlier and which I was a big big fan of), when I was in San Francisco recently I also stopped in at Absinthe Brasserie and Bar. First off, let me mention that I accompanied the wonderful and charming Sally and Corinne from the Lisa Ekus agency (the best agent, pr, media training, and more firm in the firmament) and some other folks associated with that fine orgnaization. If you have company like this, well, the restaurant or lounge you’re lounging in can probably serve almost anything and you’ll have a dandy time. However, if the drinks are as good as they were at Absinthe, the evening goes quickly up to wonderful. I started my drinking with a Ginger Rodgers, which is a variation on a drink called, simply, “Favorite Cocktail” from the classic pocket-sized cocktail book Drinks, written by Jacques Straub in 1914. It was everything a first drink before dinner should be: light-but-flavorful, bubbly, and a good appetite inducer:

After that, I was eating some delicious food (the mac-and-cheese was especially nice – and I should have taken a pic but was too busy eating and talking), and wanted something with a lot of flavor to accentuate the edibles. I went with a classic: the Pegu, from way back in the 1920s. It was tasty, tangy, and with a kick:

Heck, you should have one at home if you never have. It’s famous and fabulous. Here’s the recipe from Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz:

Ice cubes

1-1/2 ounces gin

3/4 ounce Pierre Ferrand orange curaçao

1/2 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice

Dash of orange bitters

Dash of Angostura bitters

1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin, orange curaçao, lime juice, and both bitters. Shake well.

2. Strain into a cocktail glass, and dream of days when this classic was (according to Harry Craddock in The Savoy Cocktail Book) a drink “that has traveled, and is asked for, round the world.”

After the Pegu, I had something with whiskey that I forgot to write down as the conversation was in full swing. But it was good, so just try all the whiskey drinks and you’ll get there. Here’s a photo, anyway:

Overall, an amazingly awesome evening spent with some of the swellest folks in the land, some delicious cocktails, and some scrumptious eats in a classy-but-comfy spot. Absinthe gets a “A” in my book (if I had some sort of book I put letters in, that is).

May 3, 2013

What I’m Drinking: The Silver Jubilee

Some days, I want to drink a drink with banana in it (rare days, but sure). Some days, I also want to wear a bowler hat, walk around the house saying “pip, pip” and talking in perhaps the worst English accent of all time. Some days, I also like to have a bit of gin. Some days, I’ve been known to don spats. Some days, I’ll read Agatha Christie until my eyes get tired. Some days, I do every single one of the aforementioned things at the same time. On those days, I’ve probably had more than one Silver Jubilee (using this recipe from Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz).

Silver Jubilee

Ice cubes

2 ounces gin

1 ounce crème de banana

1/2 ounce heavy cream

1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the gin, crème de banana, and heavy cream. Shake well.

2. Strain into a cocktail glass. If you’re having one of those days, garnish with a piece of dark chocolate and a thick banana round.

April 26, 2013

Cocktail Talk: The Old Curiosity Shop, Part II

If you didn’t read The Old Curiosity Shop, Part I, you might want to, or just check out all Charles Dickens Spiked Punch posts. Cause I don’t want to take a lot of pre-amble, as this post will have a quote from that classic book, as well as a recipe that relates to the quote (cause I like to have Friday Night Cocktail recipes on Fridays, and wanted to somehow tie it all together. Make sense?). So, here’s the Cocktail Talk, Dickens’ style.

Presently he returned, followed by the boy from the public house, who bore in one hand a plate of bread and beef, and in the other a great pot, filled with some very fragrant compound, which sent forth a grateful steam, and was indeed choice Purl, made after a particular recipes which Mr. Swiveller had imparted to the landlord at a period when he was deep in his books and desirous to conciliate his friendship. Relieving the boy of his burden at the door, and charging his little companion to fasten it to prevent surprise, Mr. Swiveller followed her into the kitchen.

Now, to follow that up, here’s a recipe for Purl from Good Spirits, so you can make your own to sip on while reading Dickens on a cold spring night. Or, to have with friends while you’re acting out scenes from your favorite Dickens’ books. This is something you do, right?

Purl

6 ounces porter

6 ounces ale (a pale ale works)

1 ounce gin

1/2 teaspoon freshly grated ginger

1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1. Add the porter, ale, and ginger to a small saucepan. Heat over medium-heat, until warm but not boiling.

2. Carefully pour the porter-ale mixture into a pint glass that has been slightly warmed (by running it under warm water).

3. Add the gin. Stir once with a spoon. Sprinkle the freshly grated nutmeg over the top.

April 16, 2013

Cocktail Talk: Dead Dolls Don’t Talk, Part II

Somehow, the other day when I was going on and on about Day Keene and how much I dig him as a writer of the pulps and pulpy and mysteries and noirs and their ilk, and dropped down a Martini quote from the fine once-fit-in-your-pocket-book now part of a worthy three-novels-in-one-book collection from Stark House called Dead Dolls Don’t Talk, well, I meant to put in two quotes. And that, friends, is what’s called a long sentence. And a mistake I mean to rectify by putting in the second quote right now (cause I don’t want you to miss it. And want you to read the book. So, go on, do both).

Coe put a cigarette in his mouth and offered the package to his employer. “The hell of it is we haven’t any way of knowing for how long you may be stuck.”

Hart lit his first cigarette of the day and enjoyed it. “That’s the hell of it,” he agreed. “But if I’m not back in a couple of days you might try sending out a Saint Bernard with a keg of dry Martinis.”

–Day Keene, Dead Dolls Don’t Talk

*See all Day Keene Cocktail Talks

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