February 18, 2014
There are a number of things we miss in the modern age: Myrna Loy, zoot suits, un-ironic swing bands, speakeasies that aren’t just trying to be trendy, and more. We also miss the chance to have “bootlegger” on our resumes. Ah well, at least the unmissable Compleat Imbiber # 2, itself a bit old (from 1958) lets us relive the bootlegging days in an essay it contains. An essay from which I present to you the below quote.
The first violinist, an expert chemist, skillfully diluted the contents of gin, rum, Scotch whisky, Bénédictine, and Cognac bottles which he bought at the crew’s fifty per cent reduction from the second-class barman. (In those days of Honesty, it was ‘second’ and not ‘cabin’ class.)
—Joseph Wechsberg, Confessions of a Bootlegger
Tags: Benedictine, Cocktail Talk, Cognac, Complete Imbiber, Confessions of a Bootlegger, Gin, Rum, Scotch whisky, The Compleat Imbiber
Posted in: Cocktail Talk, Gin, Rum
January 10, 2014
There have been many famous and legendary pugilists. And, there have been many famous and legendary bartenders and bar scribes. As a whole, I’d say that the pugilists could probably take the bar folk in a back alley brawl, but wouldn’t hurt them much, as then who would pour the punchers the drinks? Anyway, one guy who fits nicely into both categories is Andrew Bohrer, of Cask Strength and the book The Best Shots You’ve Never Tried, in which you’ll find this tasty shot, a fine pick-you-up either before or after watching a boxing match.
The Prizefighter
1 ounce white rum (or try Sun Liquor’s aged rum here)
1/2 ounce simple syrup
1 whole egg
2 dashes hot sauce (your choice)
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add everything. Shake well.
2. Strain through a fine strainer into a shot glass. Drink quickly, and always go down swinging.
October 18, 2013
So, the other night I was reclining in the big comfy chair, trying to decide what to have for my evening libation while paging through a pocket-sized book called The Standard Cocktail Guide: A Manual of Mixed Drinks Written for the American Host by Crosby Gaige, published in 1944. It’s a handy little book, if not as exuberantly fun at Mr. Gaige’s Cocktail Guide and Ladies Companion. But well worth picking up if you ever see it. I knew, before deciding on a drink, a couple facts. One: I wanted to make a drink using iced crushed in my new McSology Lewis bag (a dandy Lewis bag made here in Seattle out of 100% cotton canvas, and available for $48 for the professional-sized model and $26 for the home-bartender version, if after reading this you want one). Two: I wanted to make a drink I didn’t know. Three: I wanted to make a drink out of this book. Four: I wanted to use the last bit of mint from the mint plant out back. I ended up with the Santa Cruz Daisy, though admittedly I modified it perhaps nearly out of Daisy-dom, cause I went with a mint instead of fruit topping, and I used crushed and not shaved ice. But it was still massively delicious.
The Santa Cruz Daisy (Sort Of)
2 ounces white rum
1/4 ounce maraschino
1/4 ounce simple syrup
Crushed ice
Fresh mint sprigs
Splash of soda water
1. Add the rum, maraschino, simple syrup to a mixing glass and stir well.
2. Crush a bunch of ice in your Lewis bag and revel in the crushing.
3. Fill a goblet or other swell glass with ice, and strain the mix gently over it, topping with more ice as needed.
4. Add a splash of soda and garnish with mint sprigs.
Tags: Bar Tools, cocktail recipe, Cocktail Recipes, Crosby Gaige, Friday Night Cocktail, lime juice, Maraschino, McSology, McSology Lewis Bar, Rum, Santa Cruz Daisy, What I'm Drinking
Posted in: Cocktail Recipes, Crosby Gaige, Recipes, Rum, What I'm Drinking
September 24, 2013
Just last week, I talked about finding and reading and digging the book by Madison Smartt Bell called Straight Cut. Go read that post if you haven’t. Back now? Great, that means it’s time for you to dive right in to some more Cocktail Talk quotes from said book. The first is about grappa, and the second, for balance, is about rum.
In the early evening I went to the trattoria for an early supper and mainly to get out of the house and there I remembered about grappa. There’s no language difficulty about ordering grappa. You just say “grappa” and the man brings you some, in this case a sizable portion for the equivalent of about thirty U.S. cents.
On the Bayswater Road, near the corner of Kensington Gardens, I found a booze shop and bought a quart of dark naval rum. Circling back about Queensway, I picked up some plastic cups at a grocer’s and then I went back to the room. It was time to get drunk and think it over.
— Straight Cut, Madison Smartt Bell
April 30, 2013
Well, it’s been a fine week (or, thereabouts. Or, my week may be different than yours. One of those) of Dickens Cocktail Talk posts, with all of them from his lesser-known, but still a book that should be on your “must-read” list, novel The Old Curiosity Shop. You know what’s funny? At least relating to the book and the Cocktail Talking? I could do, oh, at least four more posts with tipsy quotes from the book. Dickens, naturally, liked his drink a bit, and his drinkers, and his bars, and so his books tend to be dandy spots for those us who don’t mind a drink to dwell in. This last quote has to do with the devilish villain of the book, a certain Mr. Quilip, looking in at his lawyer, who is also villainous, but in a weaker and (to be honest) less admirable way. If you’re going to be a villain, at least don’t be mealy-mouthed about it. And while I can’t like him, I can’t really fault his drinking choices.
Applying his eye to this convenient place, he descried Mr. Brass seated at the table with pen, ink, and paper, and the case-bottle of rum – his own case-bottle, and his own particular Jamaica – convenient to his hand; with hot water, fragrant lemons, white lump sugar, and all things fitting; from which materials, Sampson, by no means insensible to their claims upon his attention, had compounded a mighty glass of punch reeking hot; which he was at that very moment stirring up with a teaspoon, and contemplating with a look in which a faint assumption of sentimental regret struggled but weakly with a bland and comfortable joy.
–Charles Dickens, The Old Curiosity Shop
September 28, 2012
Poor amaretto. So many folks these days consider it a boozy beverage drunk by college students during the hours when they (and when I, back then, between us) have more drinks than brains. But listen up: this isn’t the case. The dandy-est amaretto is something that Italians savor and so should you. It’s a treat, if you don’t mind finding brands like Gozio, Luxardo, and Disaronno, amarettos that have been made with a sense of taste and care and ingredients that are real and not chemistry experiments. The end result should be a deep almond flavor (which comes from apricot or peach pits, usually) and not overly sugary.
And while we’re dolling out pity party invites: poor summer. It’s far out the rear window now, and you’ve probably forgotten all about those days of sun and cut-offs (though a nice fall sunny day is savorable much like the good amarettos mentioned above). This drink will remind you, for a few sips at least, of those shore-bound summer day and help re-introduce amaretto as needed. The recipe’s from Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, if you wondered.
Cracked ice
1-1/2 ounces dark rum
1 ounce amaretto
1/2 ounce sweet vermouth
Wide orange twist, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker or mixing glass halfway full with cracked ice. Add the rum, amaretto, and vermouth. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Twist the twist over the glass and drop it in.
A Note: I like a pretty wide twist here, so don’t fear following the same route.
Tags: amaretto, cocktail recipe, Cocktail Recipes, Friday Night Cocktail, Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, Rum, Shine Along the Shore, What I'm Drinking
Posted in: Ginger Bliss and the Violet Fizz, Italy, Liqueurs, Recipes, Rum, What I'm Drinking
August 23, 2012
So, sometimes I (like many people—maybe even you? Though you’re probably too organized. I mean, I know you come to this blog every week at a particular time. Not that I’m stalking you or anything. Well, not too much), I get forgetful. Or busy. Or, on certain tornado-esque weeks, both. Well, last week had a bit of that atmosphere of madness within it, which means I sorta missed National Rum Day. Which was last Thursday I believe. Hopefully you didn’t. But to make up for it, today I’m having myself the ideal rum drink: the Daiquiri. A marvelous thing when made right, the Daiquiri makes summer spectacular, makes women and men swoon, and makes an afternoon turn from dullsville to deluxe with one sip. Ah, but the key is making it right–though you may have guessed I’d say that. For one: no blenders. For two: use a decent rum (I used Denizen, which is a nice blend of aged Trinidad and Jamaican rums, and which has a clear island-y personality, and which I was sent in the mail—I have to admit that, or you’ll think I’m a shill. Which I’m not). For three: always use fresh juice. The below recipe from Good Spirits is the way I make ‘em, and naturally I think it’s the finest way. But don’t take my word for it. Whip up a batch and start tasting.
Crushed ice (see Note)
3 ounces white rum
1 ounce fresh lime juice
1/2 ounce simple syrup
Lime wedge, for garnish
1. Fill a cocktail shaker 1/2 full with crushed ice. Add the rum, lime juice, and simple syrup and shake it Havana-style.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass (thought a fine strainer if you’re worried about lime bits in your teeth). Squeeze the lime wedge over the glass and then drop it in once squeezed.
A Note: I think honest-to-goodness crushed ice is the sunny-bomb-of-goodness here, because it gets your Daiquiri frothy. If you don’t have crushed ice, use cracked. If you’re not up for cracking, then use cubes. It’s still gonna be a heck of a drink.
July 10, 2012
So, I don’t just write about cocktails, drinks, distilleries, beer, booze, drinkers, drunks, and all that. Not that I don’t like to write about all of the above (and more!), but I like a little balance, too. Which means I have a day job (where I fight zombies, among other things). Which you might think isn’t fun, but let me clear your befuddled mind. See, I work with folks in the daytime who may not make drinks for a living, but who make damn fine drinks–and then sometimes take damn fine pictures of said drinks. Exhibits A and B are below. The first was made and taken by pal and co-worker Emi, and is a Raspberry Gin Fizz:
The next is a Mai Tai with lovely float of dark rum, with the drink made and photographed by pal and co-worker Lorie:
Now, those are some talented home-bartenders I get to work with from the 9 to 5. And yeah, you should be jealous.
