Sometimes you have bad days. Sometimes you have busy days. Sometimes you have busy weeks. Here’s hoping you don’t have bad weeks that combine all the above. But if you do, well, this may well be the drink for you. But it’s also just a darn good drink, one that has layers and layers of flavors happening, and depth galore. It utilizes a lot of Seattle-area ingredients, so stock up next time you’re out this way (though many are them are available in other areas, too, and more all the time, thankfully). And one key Italian pal, too.
If you know me (and you must, right?), you know I love local distilleries here in Washington. There’s such a range, both of types of distilleries and products and events around both. It’s a fantastic time to live here! As example A, take the fun smoky stuff happening at the awesome Westland Distillery this week. See, they bring in 150,000 pounds (wow, right?) of peated malt to the distillery every year, and then mash, ferment, and distill it to make whiskey that makes angels sing. This year, and this week, they’re celebrating the peated malt’s arrival with a week of free tours, single cask tastings, and extended hours, all culminating in a giant not-to-be-missed release party (you’ll need tickets for that one) on Saturday, the 12th –two peated single cask bottlings are being release. So, get on down to the distillery this week (and if you’re reading this from a locale outside of WA State, then get some tickets and fly on it). Learn even more at: www.peatweek.com.
I found this beast (in the best way) of a drink in David Embury’s classic The Fine Art of Mixing Drinks. However, he doesn’t say where the name is from, and I’ve never managed to track it down in Bible, Talmud, Blake, Milton, Hobbes, or other spot (those all seemed like they could have a Leviathan 477). Where the name comes from is a secret that Mr. Embury may have taken to the big bar in the sky.
One thing on our side, though, that Mr. Embury sadly missed, is Westland Distillery’s new First Peated American single malt whiskey. And probably so will most others (hah) as it’s a limited release. But, the distiller’s regular peated whiskey is soon to follow, and I’ll bet it will also be amazing in this drink. The First Peated has a deep smoky peatedness, but also an underlying chocolate, leather, shortbread mix with little hints of citrus and cherry. It’s a fine whiskey, and one that is delicious solo. You might not even think of it as a spirit to have in cocktails, but let me tell you, mixed into the below it shines and helps deliver a drink worthy of the monstrous name (in the best way, of course).
My wishy-washy-ness with Erle Stanley Gardner, and his version of Perry Mason, as well as my love of Perry Mason-as-played-by-Raymond-Burr, have been detailed on this blog in the past. So, I won’t weigh into them here (no need for me to get haunted anyway). But I still can’t stay away from his books when I find them in their pocket-sized printings, cause the covers tend to be so darn swell. And the insides certainly aren’t bad, and usually contain nuggets of joy like the below.
He went to the room, pulled the curtains, ordered four bottles of ginger ale, with plenty of ice, and got a quart of whiskey from the bell boy. Then he sat in the overstuffed chair, with his feet on the bed, and smoked.
Here’s something you may not know: John Hanson, the first president of the newly independent United States under the Articles of Confederation, on October 11, 1782 declared that the fourth Thursday of every November was to be Thanksgiving Day. As I’m someone who likes Thanksgiving, well, this was news to me. And it led to me, when trying to come up with a new drink to have before Thanksgiving, utilizing Mr. Hanson’s name in the title. I also utilized a couple of awesome new Seattle-area products in the drink, cause going local is good, especially around Thanksgiving. The first was a shrub. I’m guessing you know I don’t mean the plant, but the colonial era vinegar-based cocktail-and-drink ingredient that’s making a comeback. You probably don’t know I used a Ludlow Market Shrub, made around these parts, specifically the Blackberry Sarsaparilla Vanilla variety, which is rich and tangy and fruity all at once. I also used the new Seattle Distilling Company Idle Hours whiskey (made on Vashon Island), which is an Irish-style whiskey with a hint of honey. All together, the Hanson Sparkler (there soda water which makes it sparkle) is an ideal pre-Thanksgiving drink, one that’ll whet your appetite without filling you up.
The Hanson Sparkler
Ice cubes
1-1/2 ounces Seattle Distilling Company Idle Hours whiskey
Some sad days, you look at your liqueur shelves and can’t find a thing to drink. Sometimes, this drives you to trying some new liqueurs or spirits. Sometimes, it sends you to searching other shelves and you end up trapped in a cabinet. When you find a stash of cardamom seeds in the corner of said cabinet then you end up making a cardamom liqueur (this has happened to you, right? It’s not just me. Tell me it’s not just me). When the cardamom liqueur actually turns out to be pretty darn intriguing and not bad in taste, it makes all that time trapped in cabinets worthwhile. Especially if you have a pal who then makes a good drink with the liqueur. But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, the cardamom liqueur. I call it Stella di Cardamomo, which speaks to me missing Italy and being oh so fancy. In the bottle, if looking really really closely and squinting, it looks like this:
The taste was and is (I haven’t had every last drop—yet) a bit flowery and with tons of aroma and hints of citrus, but with a kick at the end. Somewhat like one of those early days of spring that end with chilly temperatures when you’ve worn a shorts and a t-shirt combo. But you aren’t too cold cause you have someone to cuddle with. Like that. If you enjoy that sensation, and like cardamom (and let’s hope you do), then the recipe goes like this:
1/4 cup cardamom pods
1/4 teaspoon fennel seeds
2 full orange peels (so, the peels from two oranges, with as little pith as possible)
3 cups vodka
11-1/2 ounces agave syrup
1. Using a mortar and pestle, slightly bash up the cardamom and the fennel. Then add them to a large glass container that has a secure lid.
2. Add the orange peels to the container, and knock them around (just a smidge) with the cardamom and fennel.
3. Add the vodka to the container, give it a swirl or two, and then seal and place in a place that’s away from the sun. Let it sit two weeks, swirling occasionally.
4. Add the agave syrup to the container (by the by, agave is healthy. So, this has now become a healthy drink), stir, seal, and place back wherever it was before. Let sit two week, swirling occasionally.
5. Strain through cheesecloth, at least twice—until it’s clear. Store in a nice bottle and use in the Old Mom (which I’m about to talk about).
Now, back to the pal and the drink. So, I gave a little Stella di Cardamomo to my pal Emi (check this past post for a pic of her Raspberry Gin Fizz) and she whipped up an absolutely divine drink with it, a variation of sorts on the classic Old Fashioned. Yeah, I know, artsy, but the liqueur itself is artsy, and bringing the old and new boozes together is a good thing and worth praise. She went about making her new cocktail by testing this and that until she ended with this recipe:
Ice cubes
2 ounces whiskey
1/8 ounce Stella di Cardamomo
1/8 ounce simple syrup
2 dashes Fee Brothers orange bitters
1. Add a few ice cubes to an Old Fashioned or relatable glass. Add the whiskey (not sure which type she used—maybe she’ll let us know in the comments. Though she is quite busy), Stella di Cardamomo, simple syrup, and bitters. Stir well.
Okay, I think that’s how she went about it at least. There may have been a slightly different way about things, but I think that the above instructions would serve you pretty well. You could also shake everything and then strain it over a couple ice cubes, depending on how much time you have and how much exercise you need. But your results may not be quite as lovely as in this picture (also taken by Emi):
And that, adventuresome ones, is a long blog post about both a new liqueur and a new drink. One of the most wonderful things ever, perhaps.
PS: If there are any liqueur companies reading this that now want to make and sell Stella di Cardamomo, please email me now.
Okay, honesty time. Raise your hand if you’ve had a broken, or even a fairly seriously cracked, heart. You, in the back, without your hand raised? Quit lying, we’re all friends (or at least boon bar companions) here. That’s what I thought. Turns out, even in short story collections from the 1950s, people have broken hearts. Even in mystery short story collections from the ‘50s, such as Murder by 14 (here and there called My Best Murder Story), which is a collection shading pretty seriously to the “want-to-be-Agatha” side of the mystery section (as opposed to the “want-to-be-Dashiell” section—both of which are sections I like). One of the stories that doesn’t shade too much is A Matter of Life and Death by John and Ward Hawkins, which is pretty much one long hangover for the main character, after a night of heartbreak (somewhat mitigated by the inducer of said heartbreak trying to help him out of what looks like a pretty murderous situation). Really, I know little about John and Ward, the authors, but the story was good enough that I’m gonna look for more. And I certainly understand the sentiment and set-up of the below quote, all about bourbon and heartbreak.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘I got loaded in the bar across the street from the office. Straight bourbons. I got full of bourbon clean up to here. I rubbed it in my broken heart. I cashed my paycheck. And then I went riding in taxi-cabs. I went pub-crawling. I met this guy–this big guy with the crew hair-cut and the tough face and the little scar on his chin. We were a couple of ex-sergeants and that made us buddies. He bought some drinks and I bought some drinks, and we really pinned one on–the Giant size.’
Brrr, it’s cold (if you live in sunny Seattle, pretend with me). And even colder if you live in the arctic regions or happen to be a polar explorer. But have no fear, winter wonderlanders, I have a solution to your freezing problem: the Hot Brick. To test my solution, I’ve just spent six months living in the arctic. And then I filmed my results for the most recent episode of the Cocktail to Cocktail Hour. See below, please, and take off the freeze.
