Our last (for now, at least) Cocktail Talk from Craig Rice’s rollicking The Wrong Murder is a short one, but I loved the sentiment contained within it. Who doesn’t need a Martini to chase straight gin? Don’t get so liquored up that you miss The Wrong Murder Cocktail Talk Part I or Part II, to learn more about the book and the amazing author (for that matter, read past Craig Rice Cocktail Talks for even more), as I’m keeping this intro short as a shot.
On the step just below them was a bottle of gin, a shakerful of Martinis, and a few extra glasses, thoughtfully brought along in case of breakage. The Martinis, Helene’s father had explained, were there to be used as a chaser for the gin.
We turn to a perfectly-made Martini in our third quote from the Second Fletcher Flora Mystery Megapack (published by Wildside Press), the same tome of Fletcher Flora goodness that gave us the memorable and recently posted Kill Me Tomorrow Cocktail Talk and Hell Hath No Fury Cocktail Talk. Now, as today’s pulpy gem shouldn’t be rushed, much like a four-to-one Martini shouldn’t be, I’m going to skip any further intro (outside of telling you to read all the Fletcher Flora Cocktail Talks to learn more about the author).
“Nettie likes you, I think, and it’s rarely that she likes anyone at all. It must be your irresistible charm. I’m having an early Martini. Will you have one?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“They’re in the pitcher on the table there. I remembered the ratio exactly. Four to one.”
“Good. Will you have another one with me?”
“Later, darling. Four-to-one Martinis shouldn’t be rushed, especially when they get an early start.”
Our second Cocktail Talk from the Second Fletcher Flora Mystery Megapack comes from a story within that mighty tome of Flora-goodness (published by Wildside Press) called Kill Me Tomorrow. Before heading into a martini below, however, be sure to read the Hell Hath No Fury Cocktail Talk, to learn more about the Megapack and about Fletcher Flora – for that matter, don’t miss all the past Fletcher Flora Cocktail Talks! Then come back for the below Martini fun.
She had lifted her glass to drink again, but the action was suspended suddenly with the edge of crystal just touching her lips. Her breath stirred slightly the gin and vermouth, and her eyes, wide and still and black in the contrived dusk, stared at him across the golden surface. After a moment, with a sad little sigh, she tipped the glass and set it down again.
“Poor dear. It’s always such an ordeal going to the dentist. You’d better have a drink at once.”
“I could use one, all right.”
He signaled a waiter and asked for bourbon and water. When it arrived, he drank half of it quickly.
I’m realizing now, after a period of reflection, that I didn’t actually say inThe Five Bells and Bladebone Part I Cocktail Talk what the book was about, outside of a general overview into Martha Grimes books being named after pubs (or at least a fair portion of them and all the ones I’ve read). The non-description is a bit of an oversight, not that I’m here on the Spiked Punch to do book reviews. But I would be happy to try and entice you to read the books we Cocktail Talk from, if in a light manner that doesn’t interrupt your drinking. With that: a bit of a TW (twat-waffle) is found after being murdered and stuffed into a secretaire, which has been delivered to an antique dealer, who resides in the same town as wealthy ex-lord (he gave up the title, if you’re worried) Melrose Plant, bestie of the intrepid and dreamy (at least to some of the ladies) Inspector Jury (star solver in the Grimes pantheon). From there, there’s a confusing case of identity, some British village characters, a dip into Thames-adjacent London (where our titled pub is), and lots of gin. In the below quote for a start.
As she poured a small Niagara of gin into the pitcher, Jury said, “I’m sorry. Were you expecting a friend?”
“Only you, Superintendent.” She filled the cap of the vermouth bottle, poured half back in the bottle, and added this breath of vermouth to the pitcher.
“Olive? A twist? I prefer a bit of garlic rubbed round the glass myself. Or would you rather have vodka?”
“The search for the perfect Martini, is that it?”
“The perfect Martini, Superintendent, is a belt of gin from the bottle; one has to be slightly civilized, however.”
Pork City, how did I miss out on you for so long? I blame society (as a punk once said), or just myself for not knowing more about author Howard Browne. Not the English bishop (who I also know little about), but the editor of Amazing Stories and Fantastic Adventures who also wrote mysteries and then for TV – including the ever-loving Rockford Files! One of his mysteries was the book Pork City, though calling it a mystery only alludes to where it’d be filed in a bookstore or library, as there’s no mystery to the murder that happens in it. But let me back up. Taking place in prohibition-era Chicago, Pork City is based on a true story, the murder of a Trib reporter, and has a host of real-life folks in it (including Alphonse Capone himself as a mainish character), and centers around real Chicago spots of the times. All of which makes it sound a little like a historical retelling, which it is, in a way, but with more pizzazz, more thrills, more snappy dialogue, and more booze, as well as real insight into the workings of police and the mobs of the time. It’s a hoot and a humdinger, and for one like myself whose interests intersect in booze and the bang from a gun, well, an ideal read. So ideal we’re gonna have a couple of Pork City Cocktail Talks, starting with the gin-y below number.
She angrily brushed away a tear, went to the bar, and refilled her glass with Gordon’s gin (or so the label claimed). After adding a minuscule amount of vermouth, she dropped in two ice cubes from the silver-trimmed bucket and crossed to one of the living room’s wide windows. The newly installed Lindbergh beacon, revolving from high atop the Palmolive building a few blocks to the south, put a slashing path of light against the night’s cloudless sky. Loop-bound traffic drifted soundlessly along Lake Shore Drive, past the Potter Palmer castle and the long stretch of beach at Oak Street and on into Michigan Avenue.
I’ve mentioned the delicious canned Sprezza spritz-style drinks made up here in WA before, and I’m sure I’ll do it again, because they are awesomely awesome. The Blanco variety is delish, and so so swell in summer, and there’s a newer Rose’ that is dreamy, but today I’m sipping the Sprezza Rosso side of the trio. Made from Mancino Rosso vermouth, Scrappy’s Orange bitters (hence the Washington connection if you were wondering), and sparkling mineral water, it delivers a swirl of effervescent rhubarb, burnt orange, and caramel with an ending brisk bitter kiss. Bellissimo! And – which you might expect given its Italian connection – Sprezza Rosso goes perfectly with a good slice of pizza. So, that’s what we’re having today, amici!
Sprezza Rosso
Ice cubes
1 can Sprezza Rosso
Orange twist
1. Couldn’t be easier: fill a wine glass three-quarters up with ice cubes. Pour the Sprezza over the ice and in the glass. Twist the twist, and drop it in. Take a bite of slice, take a sip of Sprezza.
Well, I apologize – I really should have had this cocktail up on February 29, as that was leap day and this is a leap year and this drive, or drink, is leaping (with flavor! And in the name). It’s not the Leap Year, which is another drink, but somewhat related, and, well, just would have been good to have on or nearer to the actual leap day, though I suppose I’m still having this drink within a month of it, and darn it, the drink’s still good (and related in little ways to other drinks like the Sidecar and various other gin and Cointreau and vermouth and lemon drinks, so if you like that or those drinks, then you will be fond of this I’ll bet, maybe even leaping over things to have it), and sometimes that can weigh even more than an appropriate story, though as I’ve told you time and time again, good stories make good drinks even better. So, maybe pretend it’s still leap day? Having a couple of these tangy, botanical, citrusical, drinks might help with the leaping, or lead to both leaping and jumping. Maybe skipping too! Which would be fun.
The Leaping Drive
Ice cubes
2 ounces gin (I used Washington-made Kur gin, and it served me well)
3/4 ounces Blanc vermouth (I used Dolin, and it was a reliable delight)
What the saying – it’s always 6 o’clock somewhere (well, maybe that’s an hour off the saying, but it is none-the-less true)? With that, I believe that this beauty should be the cocktail du jour pretty much all the time somewhere in the world. Sadly, it’s fallen from knowledge in the main, if it ever was in the main. I found it, mostly recently, in a little pamphlet called Come for Cocktails. Published by The Taylor Wine Company in 1958, I’m guessing at 6 o’clock on a Friday in anticipation of everyone drinking this mix of both sweet and dry vermouth, dry sherry, and a lemon twist. It has that swell vermouth heavier and lighter balance, with a knock of sherry nuttiness (I suggest a fine fino if you find it), and a twinkle of citrus. The lack of a higher abv base spirit means it’s a nice one if you’ve been (gasp!) dry January-ing as well, and want to ease back into the cocktails at a more measured pace. Not a bad idea for anyone if starting at 6, really!
The 6 O’clock Cocktail
Cracked ice
1 ounce dry vermouth
1 ounce sweet vermouth
1 ounce sherry
Lemon twist, for garnish
1. Fill a mixing glass or cocktail shaker halfway full with cracked ice. Add our trio of liquids. Stir well.
2. Strain into a cocktail glass, and garnish with the lemon twist.
