March 24, 2015
I introduced you to the book Martinis and Murder by Henry Kane (originally titled, A Halo for Nobody, by the way, which is nowhere near as good) in an earlier post, and promised, much like old Jacob Marley, that we’d have three different quotes from the book. And here’s the second!
‘Now,’ she said and she produced rye and bitters and cherries and olives and gin and two kinds of vermouth, dry and sweet, and then she backed up against a table and put her hands behind her and clasped the edge of the table and watched me, her body tight against her dress.
I mixed drinks. And set them up on the washtub and I looked at her and she didn’t move and I looked again and I don’t know which of us was breathing more heavily.
–Henry Kane, Martinis and Murder
December 6, 2013
People, like you (yes, you!) who have read this blog for a while, or at all, know that I’m what people call an equal-opportunity-drinker. Meaning – I tend to like almost all families of imbibables, and am open to trying pretty much everything. This doesn’t translate into me sipping on anything that tastes like gutterfied gasoline. But it does mean that I, for example, really like sherry, but also really like rye, and lemon, and etc. Also, it means that I’m not afraid to try non-traditional items in cocktails. For another example, I’ve tasted more cocktails with vinegar lately, and loving them, and have wanted to make a few myself. Luckily, I recently came into possession (thanks to Corinne from the LEG, or the Lisa Ekus Group, the finest folks in the land) of a bottle Boyajian balsamic fig vinegar, an all-natural combo that seems ideal for a dressing or a drizzle, but for me also screamed – cocktail! And thus the Atta Boy was born, which combines the beautiful Boyajian vinegar with rye, sherry, and a lemon twist. The result is fantastic, savory but with a nice rye base, a tiny bit tangy and a smidge sweet, all topped by the zing of citrus. Give it a whirl and your tastebuds will thank you.
Atta Boy
Cracked ice
2 ounces rye (I used Woodinville rye)
1/2 ounce Boyajian balsamic fig vinegar
1/2 ounce dry sherry
Wide lemon twist
1. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with cracked ice. Add the rye, vinegar, and sherry. Stir really well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with the wide lemon twist, draped over the side.
Tags: Atta Boy, Boyajian balsamic fig vinegar, cocktail recipe, Cocktail Recipes, Friday Night Cocktail, Rye, sherry, vinegar, What I'm Drinking, Woodinville rye
Posted in: Cocktail Recipes, Recipes, What I'm Drinking, Whiskey
July 5, 2011
It’s July, so I’m not going to lie (really, I just wanted to make that rhyme. No, wait, really, I’m not lying. Really)—I have a strong affection for not only the Oriental Cocktail (a beaut of an unburied treasure utilizing a party power pack: rye, sweet vermouth, orange curaçao, and lime juice) but for pretty much all cocktails that come with a good story. Want to learn more? Check out this short-but-swell article on the Oriental Cocktail I wrote that was recently in a special summer cocktail e-issue of the Good Life Report (the article does have the full recipe, too—if you’re thirsty). If you don’t know about the Good Life Report, and yet feel you are someone who does, indeed, want a good life, then, well, sign up for gosh sakes.
PS: I almost forgot–that article also talks about Mark Butler’s genius drink the Occidental, too! How can you miss it?
April 20, 2011
I like (as maybe detailed before on this blog) Mr. Raymond Chandler, though some noir revisionists aren’t as high on him as, say, Dashiell Hamnett. I say pooey on them—why not read both authors, as well as the many others writing in the pulpy pulp era (at least the other good ones, of which there are many). I’ll admit there are one or two Raymond Chandlers that don’t rise as high as, say, The High Window, but I’ve gotten at least a kick and usually more from every book of his, which is why I was jazz’d recently to find, in Italy of all places, a copy of a Chandler book called Pearls Are A Nuisance, which collects three short stories of his that I hadn’t read (at the time this paperback was published, the book was only available in this British version). In honor of the find, and of Mr. Chandler’s usually hard-drinking leading men, I’m going to have three Cocktail Talks with quotes from the book, one day for each story in the book. These first two are from the title story, with one being the beginning of a drinking bout (around the narrator getting his, um, tail kicked), and the next a charming description of the after-effects.
A wet towel began to slap at my face. I opened my eyes.
‘Listen, kid. You got two strikes and no balls on you. Maybe you ought to try a lighter bat.’
‘Brandy,’ I croaked.
‘You’ll take rye.’ He pressed a glass against my lips and I drank thirstily. Then I climbed to my feet again.
At five o’clock that afternoon I awoke from slumber and found that I was lying on my bed in my apartment in the Chateau Moraine, on Franklin Avenue near Ivar Street, in Hollywood. I turned my head, which ached, and saw that Henry Eichelberger was lying beside me in his undershirt and trousers. I perceived that I was also as lightly attired. On the table near by there stood an almost full bottle of Old Plantation rye whisky, the full quart size, and on the floor lay an entirely empty bottle of the same excellent brand. A cigarette had burned a hole in the brocaded arm of one of my easy chairs.
—Pearls Are A Nuisance, Raymond Chandler
February 12, 2010
Aw, the good life. I like the idea of the good life (though I have to imagine that it’s slightly different for everyone, but have to hope that for at least 95.47% of the people it involves having a drink with friends at least once in a while). And it seems others, even with their varied and various definitions like the idea of the good life, too. So much so that there is now a very handy, attractive, and fun website out there called The Good Life Report, that talks about dining, drinks, travel, wellness, and more items one might associate with living goodly, usually focused around a particular city or place or event or situation. Good things. Things I like. Which is why I was tickled when they wanted to use my Sazerac recipe for the most recent report (and pal Melissa Punch’s fantastic photo of said Sazerac), the one from Dark Spirits. Go check it out. And, if you like the good life, too (and really, who likes the bad life? Outside of Doctor Doom?), sign up for their newsletter, and get the good life delivered to your inbox.
PS: Bonus points (meaning, a drink on me next time we’re together) for anyone who can pick out the extra sentence or two that are in the Good Life Report Sazerac intro paragraphs but not in Dark Spirits. That’s a challenge people.
October 12, 2009
“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
3/4 ounce sweet vermouth
3/4 ounce apricot liqueur
1. Rub (carefully but firmly) the 3 mint leaves all around the inside of a cocktail glass. Then discard them.
2. Fill a cocktail shaker halfway full with ice cubes. Add the rye, apricot liqueur, and vermouth. Shake well.
3. Strain into the minty glass from above. Garnish with the mint sprig.
PS: Happy Friday to you, too.
September 1, 2009
Happy salivating September folks. Welcome to another month where you should be trying to have as many cool and creative cocktails as you can consume without causing chaos (or making you miss too many mornings). The reason, you might ask, if you were the asking kind, that September is so salivatious? It’s because of this very blog post, where I’m going to cut at least some of the chatter off the tree and present you with a few more almost drinkable photos from the San Francisco trip I had not all that long ago (and which I detailed a bit in a post you probably remember fondly called Drinks on the Road: San Francisco, Part I). But before the drink pics (hah, I always do this: set up, then aside), a quick shout out to my pals at the wondrous Chow.com, who brought me in to Chow HQ while I was in San Francisco to shoot some tips. And no, tips aren’t an endangered species (wow, the jokes come at a fast pace here at Spiked Punch), and yes I’ll post some later. But first, check out me preening while camera-person extraordinaire Blake Smith sets up a limoncello shot. You can’t see her here, but pal Meredith Arthur is taking the pic, directing things with calm and aplomb like she did all day (not easy to do when dealing with a diva like me).
After the tipping, I made a quick change into my Bob Fossil t-shirt, and then headed out to meet Meredith and her-husband-and-pal Michael for a drink at Range in the Mission (for more on Range, be sure to check out the blog Inside the Blood Bank). It was a sweet little spot, and M & M are great drinking companions (though I somehow managed to forget to take a pic of them, which is a shame, as they’re cuties) and I got to have a (drum-roll here) Zyzzyva cocktail. Not only was it a tangy-herby-august mixture of gin, yellow Chartreuse, apricot brandy, and fresh lime, but it was a tangy-herby-august mixture of gin, yellow Chartreuse, apricot brandy, and fresh lime named after the magazine (that I love) that published my first book, Want. Dang, that’s what’s listed under the definition of “Awesome.”
The next day after that (please, please, don’t ask me to name what day it was though), Nat I had a day of drinking delights. You know, I should copyright that phrase for my new tour guiding service (you know, I should have a tour-guiding service). “A.J.’s Day of Drinking Delights.” You’d sign up, right? Our first stop was in the middle of Chinatown (forget about, it’s Chinatown. No, no, don’t forget), where we slipped into the Budda Bar, a lovely little dive we had to ourselves, along with the amiable bartendress and the owner, who kept coming up to talk to us from the basement. We charmed him (natch), and he introduced us to the following unknown Hong Kong sipper (he insisted we swirl it around our mouth and teeth before swallowing though, as it’s not a shooter). I hadn’t had said spirited drink before, but it had a very powerful, not harsh, sense about it, like a good strong peasant grappa.
That night, we met pal Megan (from HCP and the A Year in the Life Beatles blog no less) at the Clock Bar, which is a stylish spot situated in the classic Westin St. Francis hotel downtown. It’s managed by a dapper and friendly fella name Matthew Meidinger, who not only helped me out recently with an article (which I’ll talk about when it comes out), but who also treated us to a few of the Clock Bar’s perfectly made cocktails that night, starting out (for me) with a slightly savory Sage Advice, a drink that could stand tall at any bar with its combination of Rittenhouse rye, Italian-specialty Averna amaro, fresh orange juice, black tea honey syrup, and good pal Peychauds bitters. I might like that drink so much I’d let it take my dogs for a walk.
Matthew not only ensured we had a host of helpful (well, why not?) drinks at the Clock Bar, but he also pointed us towards the Heaven’s Dog for dinner and more drinks, calling ahead to assure us a spot, getting us a cab, and making sure we didn’t trip on the way out the hotel. I tell you, if you’re in S.F. and don’t visit the Clock Bar, you only have yourself to blame. For that matter, if you don’t visit it and Heaven’s Dog, then you shouldn’t even talk to yourself any more. Because Heaven’s Dog was also, well, heavenly. General Manager Erik Adkins met us at the door and swept us off our feet with his genial good nature and miles of smiles. What is it about S.F. and friendly bar folks? Sometimes it’s best not to question, and instead just be happy with your fine fortune (a phrase sounding somewhat fortune cookie like). At Heaven’s Dog we had multiple snacks from the dinner menu, which is set up for sharing and which has a Vietnamese flavor (like Vietnamese tapas, someone said)–perhaps the tops was the vegetarian pork belly, tofu skin, shiitake mushrooms, clam shell buns, and scallion–and all was yummy. But the drinks, the drinks were even yummier. Ours were made by the also-friendly and very knowledgeable Eric Johnson. He’s opening (by the way) a new spot called Bar Agricole in the very near future, so keep your eye open for it (and your mouth wide open). Eric made us a whole host of cocktails and highballs and their brethren and sisteren. Sadly, we didn’t take too many photos, as we were busy talking, drinking, and eating, and those we didn’t take we went flashless on (not to mention that I put the monkey book away, so am guessing a bit on what we had). But here’s one nice pic of Eric I think putting the finishing touch on a Gin Fizz Tropical, which was gin, pineapple gum syrup, orgeat, lime, egg white, mint, and soda:
Ah, San Francisco and the many bars and just outstanding people on both sides of them. Hopefully we make it back soon. And if the above didn’t get your “thirsty” button pushed, then you must be a zombie. Except that even a zombie would be thirsty after those pictures. So, go get your zombie-self a cocktail, why don’t ya?
Tags: Almost Drinkable Photo, Budda Bar, Chow, Clock Bar, Drinks on the Road, Gin, Heaven's Dog, Range, recipe, Rickhouse, Rye, San Francisco cocktails
Posted in: Almost Drinkable Photo, Bars, Drinks on the Road, Gin, Rye
August 18, 2009
I’m getting ready for a little Wine Cocktails evening at bar Poco here in Seattle on Thursday (more about that later–but if you must know, it’s Thursday at 7 pm and you should be there), but wanted to take a second to look back at when I was out of this fair sunny city (no laughing on the “sunny;” it’s balmy and blue-skied here) a week ago, visiting various watering holes in San Francisco. And yes, I forgot to call pal Andrew, and am sad about it, but I’ll power through just to point out the hits to you, in two part fashion. The first part is all about the cocktail’d night that wife Nat and I hung out with drinker par excellente’ Camper English (who in the below pic is savoring a broccolini stem–tre’ international).
If you don’t know the legend of Camper English, he writes the educational (and yet still entertaining—it’s edutainment. And yes, you can hit me in the head for saying that word) blog Alcademics, which is all about the cocktails, the bartending, and the booze. He also used to write Camper’s Hate Blog (which is genius, and worth going back through), and lots of other stuff (you can really learn more than you probably want at Cramper.com). He’s funny. And knows the San Francisco cocktail bars like few others. He suggested we meet at the new-ish Rickhouse, which luckily was near our hotel in the financial area, as we went there straight off the plane after checking in. The Rickhouse has a heavenly cocktail list with lots of information and drinks (sadly the actual menu was a bit too nice to steal, though we were tempted, being recidivist in our menu-stealing ways), a barrel stave ceiling (with barrel hoop lights), and a table right near the front window that we hooked. For the first round I had a Rye Maple Fizz, cause I was feeling rye-y and a drink with maple syrup hooks me like a trout on corn, Mr. English had a Laphroig Project (he’s a smoky essence enthusiast–check for this drink’s recipe here), and Nat had a Bella Fragollo, which was Italian-y goodness.
All the drinks we had there were expertly made right in front of me by the talented staff as I gazed at the immense wall of booze. Seriously (and easily believed, as they’re a sibling of the top notch liquor store Cask, so they have an “in” to booze-shelf-stocking), they have a 15-or-20-foot wall of bottles behind the bar. I went into a trance, and when I woke up I had a drink in my hand, a smile on my face, and a little slobber on the smile. Which sounds much grosser than it was.
After another round, we realized that if we didn’t eat we’d fall over (which would have bored Camper and not done much for our reps), so we went (on his suggestion–he’s a “vegetalian,” too, so finding an eating spot for all and sundry was a snap. Oh, a “vegetalian” as I found out is a cocktail-swilling vegetarian. Don’t smirk) to Beretta, in the Mission district. Baretta was, as the kids say, the stuff (well, except for our first bartender, who seemed to wearing my grandmother’s velour curtains. The second bartender was a dream, though). Waiting for our table I sipped (or gulped) an Angelina that demonstrated the bar’s grasp of balancing perfectly a few key ingredients (a sweet skill to have): Partida Anejo tequila, Carpano Antica, and Benedictine. Tasty indeed, with the tequila mingling with the other two’s herbal natures in an unexpectedly complenting manner. Nat had a Agricole Mule (rum, lime, ginger, mint, and pic’d below), and Camper had a Single Village Fix with Del Maguey Mezcal (that smoky thing again), lime, and pineapple gomme. All deliciousness, and matched in their heights by our eventual dinner, which consisted of a couple thinly Italian pizzas, some broccolini (re: Camper pic above), and some unbelievably good bruschetta topped with fava bean and pecorino puree. This thick-crisped-bread-topped-with-a-smooth-but-with-a-few-chunks spread lushed up the mouth. So good we ordered it twice. I kid you not. Let me repeat for effect: I kid you not. We had more good cocktails there and then, too, and lots of Camper talk, and finally tumbled into a cab in the best way: fat and drunkish. Thanks Camper, thanks S.F., and thank you, too (and watch for S.F. post number II soon).
Tags: Almost Drinkable Photo, Beretta, Camper English, Cask, Drinks on the Road, recipe, Rickhouse, Rye, San Francisco cocktails
Posted in: Almost Drinkable Photo, Bars, Drinks on the Road, Recipes, Rye
