Hot Whiskey Medicine

I had some whiskey tasting planned for this weekend (see the tweet to the left), but nature interfered; I caught a rotten cold. I complained, and cigar box guitar virtuoso Shane Speal (get his music HERE, and do it NOW) made a brilliant suggestion: blog about hot toddies. Two birds with one stone: great post material, and feel better, too. Because I did!

Herewith: three hot whiskey drinks, two classics (-ish, I did the best I could at my remote site) and one of my own. Feel free to try them as cold weather attacks.

Hot Whisky: Catskills Provisions honey, (they make an excellent honey flavored whiskey, too, try it!) boiling water, two big half-slices of lemon, and a fat 2.5 ounce pour of Glenlivet 15 French Oak. Because the cork broke, so I just emptied the bottle. Hey, I'm feverish, and not responsible for my actions.

This was good, and the honey and the whisky and the lemon blended up well. This should have whole cloves spiked in the lemon, but I'm working with what I've got. I'm sick, remember. There was too much whisky in the drink, and I mentioned that, and my wife sez, 'So add more water.' No, I wittily responded. I said there was too much, I didn't say I didn't like it that way.

Next up: the Scottish classic.

Whiskyskin: sugar, boiling water, swatch of lemon peel, good dose of Speyburn 15. I'm no snob; I like Speyburn, especially for the money. I like this drink, too. I think it's because the peel is so much sharper by itself, especially when it's squeezed a bit. This is opening up my nose more, which is kinda the point. I like.

I was strongly tempted to have another. But duty called.

Duty...and bourbon.

Hot Medicine: My own magic elixir that I've been loving since my grad school days, when I flirted briefly with over-serving myself, before realizing that would never serve me well. I stick to one of these a night now, because of the strong relaxant power. Hot Medicine is two bags worth of strong tea, made with a pint of boiling water. Let the tea steep at least ten minutes; nothing about this is about making a 'proper' cup of tea, it's about making a monster infusion that can stand up to the following additions. Add two teaspoons of sugar or honey, and 4-5 ounces of bourbon. I added 4 ounces of J.T.S. Brown Bonded tonight, because...bonded.

The Hot Medicine cleared me up, at least for long enough to get to sleep. I blew my nose profusely as I started drinking it, but that's done, and I feel as if just spent half an hour in a sauna. Bed time... thanks, Shane, great idea!


Whiskey. As Davey Crockett said, "It keeps you warm in the winter, and cool in the summertime."

Why You Don't Like Canadian Whisky

Five years ago, I didn't know much about Canadian whisky. I thought I did, and I wrote about it like I did, and I'd been to one Canadian distillery (the Canadian Mist distillery in Collingwood, Ontario). Mostly though, I had written Canadian whisky off, with the exception of the stuff John Hall was making at Forty Creek. I was just another smug whiskey snob: Canadian? Brown vodka.

Then I read Davin de Kergommeaux's Canadian Whisky: The Portable Expert. If you haven't read it, you really should click on that link, go to Amazon, and buy it. I'll wait.

Done? Great, because it's fascinating. Canadian whisky has every bit as interesting (and long) a history as American whiskey, and — remember — they made most of the whisky that was consumed in the U.S. during Prohibition...and a hell of a lot of the whisky we drank during the Civil War, too. But Canadian, like the majority of Scotch whisky, is blended, and that's led whisky snobs to ignore it.

After reading Davin's book, though, and visiting more Canadian distilleries with him and Dave Broom (you really should read his The World Atlas of Whisky, too), and talking to Canadian distillers and blenders...that's when I really got it. First, they've only recently started sending the good stuff down here. We've been getting the Canadian equivalent of Jim Beam White and Johnnie Walker Red: big-selling stuff that goes in a glass with ice and soda. Fine, for your grandfather, and your father (and likely your mom, too), but you want more, right? I know you, I am you: we want more, and the Canadian distillers are finally getting it.

The second part, and this is the key, is that Canadian whisky makers just don't think the way American whiskey makers do. Everything is blended to them and they really don't look at the whiskies they're blending in the singular, as possible soloists stepping aside from the choir; "it's a unique landscape," as one of them told me.

A moment that really brought it home to me was when Don Livermore, master blender at Hiram Walker, was having us sample various whiskies at various ages, all the way from fresh new make to Wiser's 18 year old. He'd done some experiments with red oak, and we tried some at, I believe, 4 years old. It was blastingly woody, like vodka lapped off a deck; I'm afraid I made a face. What are you  going to do with that, I asked him. "I'm going to blend it," he said, with a slight emphasis that almost sounded disappointed, like, 'I've been telling you for three hours that we blend whiskies; don't you get it?'

I didn't...but now I do. I get that blends are what they're making, that the package of flavors is what they're thinking about, and that really, they're making whiskies for drinking, not delicately tasting. Highballs, simple whisky on the rocks, cocktails; that's what Canadian's made for. If we don't get that, if we try to force it to be a sipping whisky, we may as well be putting Islay whisky in a Manhattan. I mean, you can do that, but it's hardly what it's meant for, is it?

So when I taste Canadian whiskies now, I do try sipping them...and then I try them in a highball, or I make a Manhattan (with two cherries, and a full measure of vermouth). Some of them are fully delicious as sippers, like that Wiser's 18 Year Old, and some of the latest Crown Royal variants, like the wholly excellent Monarch (75th Anniversary), and yes, the Northern Harvest Rye.

I also like the Alberta Rye Dark Batch, which is made with 1% sherry...which is allowed in Canada. The folks at the distillery followed up with me on that, and they asked: if you were going to make a cocktail with it, what would you do? I thought about it, and told them that I'd like a Manhattan balanced to Dark Batch's flavor profile, something that calls out the sherry, and isn't afraid of the whisky's lush sweetness. I usually like a more austere Manhattan, a rye Manhattan, but sometimes I like to play Dean Martin and have something sweet and fun.

And you know, they got hold of Chris Goad at Canon, in Seattle, and gave him that description to work with, and here's what I got; they call it

The Prairie Triangle

7 parts Alberta Rye Whisky Dark Batch

1 part cream sherry

1 part Pierre Ferrand Dry Curacao (go find it; play with it; worth it)

2 dashes bitters (the recipe called for 4 dashes; that dominated the drink, IMO)

Add all ingredients into a mixing glass with ice and prepare your glass, letting the ice slowly melt in the mixing glass to reduce your stirring time. Add a large ice cube to your double rocks glass and garnish with a wide orange peel, cut and trimmed clean. (Don't hate me: I added a brandied cherry.) Finish mixing your drink and pour into glass. Cheers!

I found it wonderfully juicy, and the actual add of the sherry was, I thought, ballsy and brilliant. It's a great drink, and it needs Canadian to make it...and it needs verve to make it the right drink for Canadian. Thanks, Chris; thanks Alberta Distillery!

So think about Canadian as Canadian. And go out and pick up the latest copy of Whisky Advocate, where my latest column talks about the eureka moment I had with Canadian whisky at a tasting I did last year, and the happy results that came out of it. If this didn't show you the Canadian Way, that column will.

Bourbon, Charity, and Go-go Dancers

The poster pretty much says it all, but let me break it down for you. The Trestle Inn -- which I'm pretty sure you have no idea how much I'm stoked about...but I am -- is sponsoring a bourbon cocktail competition among bartenders from four of the best whiskey bars in the city: Time, Lloyd, The Industry, and themselves. The competition is sponsored by Woodford Reserve and Old Forester. It's a benefit for PAWS, the Philadelphia Animal Welfare Society. It's a $20 ticket ($25 at the door), and $10 of that goes directly to PAWS, and gets you four tastings of the cocktails. Get your tickets here, and go have some fun! (I'd join you, but I have a rehearsal that night...sigh.)

Yes, there is a Philly Rum Week!

I like beer, you know that. I like whiskey, you know that, too. But I also like rum, more than any other spirit after whiskey, and a few friends in Da Biz know it...which is how I found out about National Rum Day -- August 16, next Thursday -- Philly Rum Week -- all next week -- and Duke's Surf Bar.

First, some caveats. Philly Rum Week is in no way like Philly Beer Week. It ain't as big. It ain't as compellingly natural. And no rum distillers or limited release rums will be coming to town -- it is a spirit, after all, so that would require cooperation from the brain-shot PLCB...which ain't happening.

Second, National Rum Day is just barely organized. There is no umbrella website, for instance, and most of the stuff Da Google comes up with is from last year's National Rum Day. It's just some rum bars and rum makers sending out press releases (like the people at Cruzan, who sent me the picture above, and are sending me a sample of the aged white, because I asked, because it's, like, one of my favorite rum brands (along with Rhum Clement, who haven't sent me samples...) and I haven't had that one), and having events.

Finally, I hate "pop-up" bars and restaurants and such. So precious, so "I knew about this," so exclusive -- in the 'non-inclusive' sense of the word. That's why I never write about them, or food trucks. I know, that makes me a curmudgeon, but that's how it is. Yeesh.

Okay? Got all that? Well, forget it, because Philly Rum Week is silly and fun and I'm into it; why would you expect National Rum Day to be organized; and Duke's Surf Bar is totally a tiki bar pop-up at Rum Bar, and I'm all over that. It's rum, even I'm going to lighten up and have some fun with it.

So next Thursday, I'll be at Rum Bar -- er, Duke's Surf Bar for some tiki drinks served up by my mixologist buddy Katie Loeb of Han Dynasty (she's going full-bore tiki for the night), then I'll be sliding my way over to Cuba Libre (where they apparently don't even know it is National Rum Day, but who cares?) for some more rummy fun, after which I'll probably wind up the night at the Khyber or Triumph or Eulogy...cuz, you know...I like beer.

And I am definitely taking the train this time!

Tip to you, mixologists: the backlash has arrived

Saw two things today that lead me to believe that the inevitable brute-stupid journalistic backlash against the cocktail revival has begun. First, this sidebar of duh-obvious "you cocktail drinkers think you're so smart" horseshit in PhillyMag's best bars cover story.

...in this Lillet-and-Aperol-soaked age, it seems we’ve forgotten the delight of drinking simple cocktails. Of drinking the way our grandparents drank. Grandpa wouldn’t just have looked down on the lavender-hued Aviation, with its whiff of Granny’s soap. He would have done so only after smashing it on the ground in a profanity-laden tirade. Too fussy. Too frilly. Now bring me a CC and soda, kid, and don’t skimp on the pour.

Nice. Grandpa the barbarian.Whatsamatter, buddy, bartender cut you off after one too many Ketel and tonics?

Second, I saw the Michael Imperioli 1800 tequila ad in Wine Spectator. You know the ads: douchey-looking guy in an expensive plain black suit, white shirt, skinny black tie, with a glass of 1800, and the caption "DO I LOOK LIKE I WANT TO SEE THE COCKTAIL MENU?" No, you look like I'm going to be calling you a cab in about five more shots, actually.

Sigh. Why do we have to kill everything when we're done with it? Why do we have to race off to the next thing, or cling to the old thing? Cocktails are good. Sure, we got carried away, but there's some good in the carried-away part, too. If you can't appreciate a properly made Manhattan, or a French 75, or a Sazerac, and would rather have a shot of tequila, or a CC and soda...what da hell, buster? Go drink that, but don't convince yourself that you're "right" by crap-bombing something good.

No, we get all caught up in the nastiness of it all, and we can't just enjoy something else. So we tell each other that's so over, and done, and how could anyone be dumb enough to like that. You know what? That's what people told me about non-mainstream beer back in the 1990s. That's what they told me about Scotch in the 1980s. That's what they told me about steak, for Christ's sake, in the 1990s! Idiots. You don't want what I'm drinking, fine. Drink something else. But it's like gay marriage: how's it hurting you?

Lose the attitude. Grow beyond having to piss on someone else's parade to make yours convincing. Walk away from people like that. And let's all have a drink...whatever you want.

5-course Whiskey Dinner at Percy Street, featuring me

I got talked into doing a whiskey dinner...at Percy Street Barbecue...by Jennie Hatton...and if you know me, you'll be able to guess that it took very little persuasion to get me to say "Hell yes!"

Let me tell you, though: working with chef/pit mistress Erin O'Shea has been inspiring. Here's the 5-course food/whiskey menu we put together; I think you'll agree that it goes way beyond barbecue.

• Country Ham Tasting, featuring Phillip’s from North Carolina, Father’s from Kentucky and Edward's Wigwam from Virginia, paired with a “Kentucky Tea,” 1792 Ridgemont Reserve whiskey over ice with plenty of water;  
• Sweet Potato Soup with smoked pork rillettes, paired with Stranahan's Colorado Whiskey;   
• Smoked Trout with apple, onions and fingerlings, paired with Four Roses Yellow Label
• Stuffed Quail, smoked and stuffed with cornbread and sausage, served with Brussels sprouts, paired with a Rittenhouse Rye Manhattan;  
• “Cracker Jack” corn grits with caramel and nuts, paired with Rowan's Creek Bourbon.

I'll be talking about all the whiskeys, and bourbon and rye in general, of course, but I'll also be talking about why we chose the whiskeys we did, with the courses, and why we decided to do the two cocktails. I hope you'll notice that we spread the love around, and tried to lay down some whiskeys you may not have tried before.

The dinner's on March 29th, and tickets are $50, which I honestly think is a steal for five drinks and five courses. Seats are limited -- and I know of ten that are reserved already -- so if you're interested, call today: 215-625-8510.

More Terry/Grainery news

It just keeps leaking out... From PhillyBeerScene:

Its going to be located [at] 1113 Walnut St and he’s calling the place The Grainery. The highlight of the new concept has to be the arrival of former Bullfrog brewmaster Terry Hawbaker. The Grainery won’t be a brewpub but Terry will have 4 of the bar's 24+ taps for his beers that he’ll be brewing on an extremely small, artisan scale. 

How much would you pay for that?! But wait, there's more!

On top of having a great beer program, they are also bringing in Damon Dyer, an extremely talented mixologist from NYC, to put together a Victorian style cocktail menu....As for food, the details were brief but look for rustic fare with lots of house cured meets and game dishes.... Look for the new bar to open around April.

Oh my...Victorian cocktails? Different than the speakeasy stuff, maybe more punches, raw eggs, and Old Tom? Woo woo!

"Sip it and dream"

For the very first time in my life, winter is coming on...and I find myself longing for May's warm breezes. What a grand exhibition. What a thirst I have for bourbon and mint.

Thanks to Matthew Rowley for the link; if you've never been, you should visit his blog, Rowley's Whiskey Forge .

The Bookstore: I can't shut up

I'm going to miss the big grand opening event at Fork and Barrel tonight -- I'm headed to Boston for Parents' Weekend -- but it brings to mind the owners' other place, The Bookstore speakeasy in Bethlehem, which I visited back in August. I've been wanting to tell you about it -- I've been telling everyone else about it in person, I mean...I can't shut up about the place. Here's why.

I was leaving the (I gotta say it) Bourbon, Beer and Bryson Festival at Allentown Brew Works, and I'd been too busy to get a drink -- it's a tough life -- so I thought, hey, I've been meaning to check out that Bookstore speakeasy place; why not stop in? I tooled on over to Bethlehem, and dropped down onto 3rd Street, parked on 4th and cut back to Adams on foot. It is, to say the least, unpromising, a totally blank streetblock, except for a hand-done sandwich sign on the sidewalk with the Bookstore's specials. Sandwich sign? For a speakeasy?

Yeah, that was one of the things I liked about the Bookstore. They do the speakeasy thing, atmosphere, cocktails, menu, period dress, and -- wait, I'll get to the other thing, which is awesome -- but they aren't stupidly precious about it, no "you have to know someone to get in" and "we're not really here" crap like you'll see in the big city. It's more about the experience once you're inside, not the view (or lack thereof) from outside.

The doorway was a few steps down, just a blank door with "The Bookstore" on the lintel. Go in, and there are a few display counters with books, a podium, and black curtains. And an attractive young woman in 1920s dress at the podium, who will either let you in or not, depending on whether there is space. It was just me, and there were seats at the bar, so she took me right in. And that's when The Bookstore dropped my jaw.

First, before she even opened the curtain, the music was amazing. Drew Nugent and The Midnight Society  were playing their hot 20s jazz: piano, sax, trumpet, tuba, banjo, and Drew singing -- no mike, a megaphone -- and it made it so damned real right from the start. They're not there every week, but when they are... wow.

Then she opened the curtain, and that other thing I mentioned hit me: fire. There are maybe four electric lights in the whole place, and they're all for the bartenders and musicians. The rest of the light in the place comes from candles and oil lamps, which was magical. And a bit scary at first -- I'm thinking, booze and oil lamps? We're all gonna die! -- until I saw that the oil lamps were new, and had thick plastic oil reservoirs. But it was so exciting, and gorgeous, and atmospheric. The band was hot, the ceiling was low, and the vibe was electric.

I sat at the bar. There's a great beer selection -- a bit of a surprise, I figured it was all-cocktail -- but I decided to get a cocktail, because the liquor selection was excellent, the bartenders were intense, and the ice was incredible. Long drinks -- collinses and such -- got long cylinders of ice, cocktails being shaken got hand-cracked ice, so cold that a fresh block that came out frosted over immediately when they unwrapped it. I ordered a Sazerac, and it was beautiful.

Time to enjoy. Great drink. Hot jazz; which is really the first time I understood that term. This was hot jazz, musicians pushing it, pounding it, transported by the joy of their music. The people in the bar were all enjoying themselves: foodies, cocktail junkies, jazz lovers.

I thought I'd push it a bit. I looked up a cocktail recipe on my iPhone, and asked the bartender if he could make me one. He looked, smiled, and started mixing. Okay, it's an easy one: the Frisco, bourbon and Benedictine, but he took it in stride and made it happen. Beautifully stirred, which is an underrated cocktail skill, IMO.

I didn't eat -- already ate at the Brew Works -- so I can't speak to that. But this was the best bar experience I've had in months, and I cannot wait to go back. The Bookstore is one cool place; get to Bethlehem and check it out.

Looking for "The Drink That Satisfies"

I'm not huge on sweet drinks; I'm a beer and whiskey man, and generally a lush bourbon or a Speyside, a good barleywine is about as sweet as I go. But when I do want a little sweet something, usually late on a winter's evening, as often as not the bottle I reach for is Drambuie, the Scottish liqueur. The herbs and honey and whisky make a wonderful warming sensation (and it's great in a hot cup of Earl Grey tea, too).

That's why when I was asked if I wanted to be a judge in a Drambuie cocktail competition, I said "Sure!" Best of all, you can join me. It's called "Nail or Fail," a reference to the classic Rusty Nail cocktail, it's at Ladder 15 on Sansom St., and it starts at 7 PM on Monday the 18th. The winner will be announced at 10 PM.

If you've never had Drambuie -- or any drink like it -- you ought to take the opportunity. I've developed a new appreciation for the sweet drinks, as in, you don't need to just drink them as is -- wow, they're sweet! -- or in coffee/tea -- though that is good -- you can drink them in cocktails (I've been enjoying the hell out of the Frisco cocktail: 2 oz. of good bourbon, 1/4 oz. of Benedictine, stirred with ice, strained, and a twist of lemon peel) or cut/contrast them (I was on a Kahlua press trip in Mexico in February (story coming in January in Massachusetts Beverage Business) and learned that Kahlua on ice with a big wedge of lime is awesome). So I'm looking forward to seeing what some pros can do with Drambuie.

Spring Tonic

I know you're all waiting on several things, and I will get to them, but...something else first. Back in January I got a box of samples from Fentimans: non-alcoholic, naturally flavored soft drinks. We tried them -- the Curiosity Cola (quite different), the Dandelion and Burdock (not pleasant, I'm afraid, kind of like bubble gum and meat), the Ginger Beer (good, but there are others just as good for less money), and the Victorian Lemonade (meh...but more on that later). There was a bottle of Tonic, but it was hardly G and T weather, so we put it aside. I didn't blog on them, because unless something's spectacularly bad, I don't generally blog on things that are so-so.

Then it warmed up, and I asked Cathy if she felt like a gin and tonic, her preferred hot-weather tipple. I sliced up a lime, cracked some ice, poured in a measure of Burnett's Gin (which alternates with Gordon's as our house gin), and fizzed in the Fentimans Tonic. Cazart! What an awesome drink...and look, we buy Burnett's because it's good (and quite reasonable in price), not because it's wonderful, but this stuff took Burnett's by the hand and led it to the promised land. What a fricking zing in a glass. Then I tried some gin in the Victorian Lemonade: we split on that one, I loved it, Cathy hated it. Try that yourself, but I think I may have to try some of that Schweppe's Bitter Lemon stuff.

We're finding more Fentimans. I suggest you do likewise, before Memorial Day and the traditional start of the G and T season.

Going on the Drinko: Day Two in San Francisco

I never did get back to you on the rest of the trip to San Francisco. After puttering about, showering and getting dressed, some e-mail, some reading I had to do, and such, I called Jamie Fox -- husband of long-time Malt Advocate staffer Kathy Fox, and a good friend -- and asked him if he had anything planned for lunch. How about we go across the Bay and hit two brewpubs in Berkeley, I temptingly offered. He quickly accepted, and we grabbed a BART train at about 11:15 for the trip to Berkeley Downtown.

Jupiter is right across the street from the station, intriguingly close and signed with a script neon that had called to me last year...but I had no time then. This year I did, and Jamie and I crossed the street and went in. They'd just opened, and the bar still smelled a bit of sour beer from the night before, so we wandered out back into a lovely little beer oasis, with a fountain pool that had a gas flame firepit in the middle; quite Elemental. We sat under the arbor, relaxed, and it was good.

Even better, so was the beer. I had a very nice glass of helles, which pleased me immensely: a brewpub lager, in California, and it was delish! I hadn't had anything to eat yet, and quickly ordered the Asian chicken skewers (good, and the peanut sauce was good, but not tremendous). Mostly we just relaxed and enjoyed the moment, the beautiful weather, the peaceful spot, and the friendly attentions of our waitress, Elizabeth. When the time was right, I ordered my lunch, a Galileo pizza: artichoke hearts, mushrooms, cheeses, garlic, spinach, and diced fresh tomato. And a porter, which was also quite nice; just a touch chocolatey, very drinkable.

Eventually, we left, though not before discovering that I'd apparently lost four credit cards! Luckily I had plenty of cash, and paid up with that. (I would eventually learn that the cards had dropped out of my wallet in a cab the night before; no harm, no foul, just a bit of angst.)

Up Shattuck we walked to Triple Rock. So comfortable, so welcoming, so friendly. I stuck to porter, and enjoyed it, and enjoyed the interplay of bar patrons. Nice people at Triple Rock, an older crowd -- at least, during the day when I've been there the last two years -- and Jamie was happy with it. After our first round, we noticed that our time was running down -- had to get back to the hotel to do some WhiskyFest work -- so we got right to the business we'd come for: a liter bottle of Monkey Head Arboreal Ale, a specialty beer brewed for Triple Rock at Drake's and only available on Thursdays; I don't know why, but I missed it last year and I wanted it.

Well...it was okay. It was good, it was solid, but it wasn't compelling. I was saddened, but not enough to put a dent on this great afternoon. The credit card situation was maybe preying on my mind a bit, to be honest. We pulled stakes and got back on the BART to the hotel.

A little work, and then we went out to see Parker Beam and the Heaven Hill folks at Rickhouse, a new bourbon bar: John and Amy Hansell, the hard-working Joan McGinley, and myself (we supposed Jamie was under the drink flag, but it was actually Kathy who was napping!). Good time, but hot up in the upper balcony/mezzanine. Delish drinks: a punch made, I believe, with Bernheim wheat whiskey, or maybe that was in the second drink, a smash with a blazingly fresh and aromatic mint leaf on top. I got into a conversation with a rep from Bols, who was shocked to learn that not only did I know what genever was, I was a fan, and had five different bottles at home, none of which were her product. What can I say, I like the stuff.

After that, we headed for Magnolia Pub & Brewery, where we were to be met again by Dave Keene. It was hopping, and we put our names in for a table and headed for the bar. At least, John and I did; we thought Amy and Joan were with us, but we lost them. We had headed in different directions (why would you head in any direction other than the bar?). We hadn't gotten the bartender's attention yet when a waitress said she had a booth open that she could put a chair to; would that do? Sure! We sat, and quickly ordered pints of cask Marin IPA. By God, they were just about perfect.

Unfortunately, we would have problems getting more of them, as our waitress at that point seemed to get very confused, and would bring us Marin Mt. Tam Pale Ale every time thereafter, despite John's telling her, This is not the beer I ordered. She brought him another Mt. Tam, and we gave up. It was good, but it wasn't the IPA. I short-circuited the problem by ordering cask Cole Porter, a house beer, and it was good.

The two women had rejoined us at this point, and Dave had arrived, so we fell to our dinners, which were excellent (rare burger, heavenly). When dins was over, we walked out into the warm early evening (it was actually quite warm, and a bit muggy, and no one has AC in SF...), looked up and down Haight, and thought about options. Amy and Joan grabbed a cab and headed for Bourbon & Branch; Dave and John and I decided to walk up Haight to Alembic. We were all thinking cocktail, something light, cool, sippy, and sophisticated.

However...Alembic was jammed (and hot), so we reluctantly went back out to the street, and caught our own cab to Bourbon & Branch. What's the password, the doorkeeper asked. WhiskyFest, we answered, and he said, that'll do. We went to Joan and Amy's table, tucked into the back room, and ordered drinks...which arrived just after we left on a tour of the whole place, including the Library and the new cigar bar. Great tour, fascinating bar with a lot of history, and a lot has been put into making it just so. Unfortunately, when we got back, our drinks had been sitting for almost half an hour, and they were limp and exhausted. The waitress got us fresh ones, but we weren't knocked out by them.

Hmmm...lemme see the menu. I was hot, which was part of the problem, so I looked for a tall drink, something more refreshing. How about this: a Democrat, bourbon, peach liqueur, honey, and fresh lemon juice in a collins glass full of ice. Sounds great! Best of all, I quipped, it's a Democrat: someone else will pay for it! (just a joke, folks...) It was delicious, cold and refreshing.

It was also the end. I walked back to the hotel -- everyone else took a cab, and only beat me by about minute -- and hit the hay. Jamie and I had planned to hit Dottie's True Blue for breakfast Friday morning, and I had to get rested!

Happy Birthday, Mister Jack

September, the folks at Jack Daniel's tell me, is the month of Jack Daniel's -- Mister Jack Daniel's birthday, celebrating 159 years since their founder was born. And since he founded the distillery and made the whiskey that would become the very bestselling American whiskey, they're celebrating with a cake...a cake cocktail.

It's made with Jack Daniel's, Tuaca, marshmallow syrup, and Sprite. They sent me a kit with small amounts of all those things (really, a half-assed can of Sprite) and a glass, with a marshmallow and a candle for a birthday garnish. That's what theirs looks like, down below; mine, er, doesn't look that good, because I'm a kocktail klutz. But it does kinda smell like a cake...a marshmallow and orange yellow cake. It's sweet, but damn, Sam, if they're garnishing it with a marshmallow, whatta ya expect? Wow, it's sweet. Oh, well. Happy Birthday, Mister Jack!

The End of the Trip

Well... As mentioned below, we did go into Boston on Friday. We snaffled some free breakfast at our motel (fruit salad, and biscuits with honey for me), then went in and did the very touristy Faneuil Hall, where the big find for all of us (even Cathy) was Newbury Comics. Otherwise, the place reminded me of the first time I went there, 20 years ago: why the hell was it that I wanted to come here, again?

On the other hand, our lunch at the Black Rose cleared up my memory. We'd been to the Black Rose several times when we were younger (Cathy quite a few more than that), and in my memory it had morphed into a 'plastic paddy' joint. I'm glad we went back, because it was enjoyable and sure as hell looked 'authentic' (whatever that means in an "Irish pub" in Boston) Friday at lunch. Lunch was good, too, and the Guinness was as fresh as ever I remember.

We did a bit more Faneuil Hall (well, they did, anyway: I sat and read the book I'd bought at Newbury, a relaxed moment in the midst of shopping frenzy), then headed over to Boston University for Thomas's 3 PM tour. It was a good tour, with an energetic and engaged young guide (a rising sophomore, studying advertising and psychology, a scary combination of majors), and the weather held, a darkening sky and a rising breeze that stayed rainless. The tour was over, though, and we were done with college tours. Time for a little fun.

We drove over to Cambridge, and parked the car. Nora and I hung out in a Starbuck's, reading, while Cathy and Thomas took the T to Harvard Yard and hung out with the Crimson crowd. Nora and I were biding our time till the Green Street Grill opened at 5:30, when we were going to meet my friend and fellow writer Lauren "DrinkBoston" Clark there. (Do yourself a favor: if you've never read DrinkBoston, go there now and read a bit. Bet you can't read just one page; Lauren's writing is smart and informative, personal, and fun without being smart-assed.)

While we waited for Lauren, I had the chance to have my first Pretty Things beer, Jack D'Or. It's very nice: sweet, but edgy, and quite approachable, a saison that's not trying too hard to be 'Belgian' and 'complex.' I'd have had another, but Lauren walked in, we had introductions (Lauren's that treasured adult who treats your teenagers just like they want to be treated: like people), and we got down to cocktail business. I got a rye Manhattan (Old Overholt, up, with a twist) that made me sigh, thinking about how fumble-fingered I am at making cocktails. Lauren wanted something with the Laird's Bonded Apple Brandy, and got a Diamondback. Interesting drink, have to have it again sometime.

We chatted, got caught up, and, perhaps inevitably, I had another drink (inevitable because the Manhattan had been so good!). What do you have with Irish whiskey besides a hot whiskey, I asked the cocktail queen. She apologized for geeking out, and grabbed her iPhone: she has a cocktail app! We decided on a Brainstorm: 2 oz. of Irish whiskey, and 2 dashes each of dry vermouth and Benedictine, which was then stirred (a long time), strained, and garnished with orange peel. The orange peel ruled the opener -- fresh, sweet, tingly -- but the drink itself was not dominated by anything: the whiskey (Powers) was mellow enough to stay in check, while the herbal dry/sweet of the two adds blended nicely (thanks to the prolonged stirring). A very civilized drink.

Time to go! Nora and I got the car, picked up the other two on Mass Ave, and whirled away to Cambridge Brewing Company for dinner. I'd been to CBC years ago, maybe 1993? But Will Meyers' beers kept getting such rave reviews (and our conversations in the course of a few phone interviews over the years have been so interesting) that I wanted to stop in, and it was Cathy's pick for dinner (Nora and I were talking about Redbones for barbecue). I got a Berliner Kendall (fun name, good sour, and a bit of funk; maybe some proper brett? I would have drunk more of it, but for the interest of variety) and Cathy got a pale ale (good, solid, clean).

Dinner: We split a Local Pick Plate: a wooden platter of locally-made/grown foods that was all so good we did everything but lick it clean. I had a grilled Italian sausage pizza that was excellent; the sausage was quite good, very stand-out in flavor, and the crust was crunchy-crisp. (Nora got the Warm Italian Sub, and I could have enjoyed that, too: what a rich, wet mess of a sandwich!) I had a Charles River Porter with the pizza: big, solid, a touch of chocolate.

We were done. We left, back to our motel room, and called it a week. Though we did have an interesting and delicious breakfast at the Boulevard Diner in Worcester Saturday morning (Italian breakfast: a big link of grilled Italian sausage, sitting on top of two fried eggs and crusty brown homefries, all smothered in a rich, long-simmered red sauce with plentiful toasted bread), and some pretty damned good barbecue (brisket and pulled pork, and some "Texas chili") at a new place in Sharon, CT for dinner/lunch. But that was just sustenance on the way home...

Cocktails and Colbert: David Wondrich serves 'em up

Quite surprised -- and pleased! -- to see my friend David Wondrich mixing drinks for Stephen Colbert!

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Colbert Bump Cocktail - David Wondrich
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Meryl Streep

More on Beer Cocktails

We talked about beer cocktails back in Session #27, and I mentioned I had written a piece on them for a cooking magazine. The magazine is Fine Cooking, and the piece is up on their website; have a look. I wouldn't point it out -- I don't point out all my stuff to you, after all! -- except that it's my first piece in a food magazine, and that since it came out less than a week ago I've already had four people mention it to me. Guess I need to pitch more food magazines.

And yes, Stephen, I've sold out to beer cocktails. And you know? Not only is the money pretty good, but they don't taste bad, either.

Brauhaus Schmitz soft opening

Cathy and I went down to the soft opening at Brauhaus Schmitz tonight...ah, Germanness. Teutonicity. It's a nice space, and yes, that's wood at the entrance, right on South Street (there's a nice little concrete fresco on the sidewalk as you enter, too).

We were greeted by Doug Hager, clearly overjoyed to finally be open. He welcomed us, told us to sit anywhere, but we took the opportunity to walk around a bit: the bar, the taps, the interesting 2nd floor with its low ceiling (like a rathskellar on the 2nd floor) and balcony overlooking the bar. Then we sat in the front, and Jess and Amy, our dirndl'd waitresses, took care of us.

I had a Schlenkerla Helles (draft, beautiful), Cathy a crisp glass of Jever. (The beers are not cheap, the 0.5 liter helles was $7.50, but look, you're on South Street, and Philly's not cheap any more; besides, at least it's an honest half liter instead of a 13 oz. shaker "pint.") We got obatzda (cheese butter with caraway and rye bread, done quite well and with enough bread for the spread) and potato pancakes (crisp, light, not oily).

There was also a bread plate, and God bless Doug and Kelly for that: I think it is one of the Crimes of Food that German bread is not fawned over like French bread. Germans have almost as many breads as they have sausages, and it's great. Go, get bread (remember: soft pretzels are bread, and every city's pretzels are different).

Entrees: Cathy got the Gemüsespatzele, spatzele with asparagus and cheese (and other stuff, don't press me), simply delicious. I had the Zigeuenerschnitzel, a crisp yet tender schnitzel with a pepper and onion sauce; sides were rotkohl (maybe a bit too flavorful) and potato salad (where was the speck?). Very good, even better with our second round of beers: a bottle of Augustiner Maximator for Cathy and a liter of Brauhaus Hausbrau (Stoudt's Gold) for me. We split an apple strudel, and groaned as we left.

Overall? 8 out of 10. A couple of small things could be improved, and we told Doug about them. But the space? Great. The menu? True German. The beers? Excellent, draft and bottle. The location? A bit weird when we left, like walking out of Munich into South Street.

I'd suggest doing what we did: toddling around the corner and down 7th St. to Chick's. Walked right into the bar, and said to Phoebe: we have time for one cocktail, what should it be? She rose to the occasion, asked a few questions, and made one, right on the spot, with Laird's Apple Brandy, Grand Marnier, Canton ginger liqueur, and her own Phoebe's Heart of Darkness bitters (strawberries, cacao nibs, and orange peel). Very nice, not sweet (which was one of the things we determined in the cocktail interview), and for a bespoke cocktail...very reasonably priced.

But...it was also quite hefty, and it quickly became apparent to me that it would be best if Cathy drove home.

Brauhaus Schmitz (and Chick's) are going to be on My List. Schmitz won't be open tomorrow, but keep an ear out; they'll be open for good soon, Monday or Tuesday. Go. Drink. Eat. Enjoy.

The Session #27: As if one beer wasn't enough goodness...

Today is the first Friday of May, so it's time for The Session, beer blogging on a common topic. The hosts this month are Joe & Jasmine, at Beer at Joe's, and the topic is beer cocktails. Here's what they had to say about it: "What’s your favorite beer cocktail (and yes, despite the title of this post, it can be a black & tan* or a shandy)? Find a recipe for that or a new one, try it, and tell us why you did or didn’t like it–even if you think beer cocktails are nothing but a good way to waste a beer. Have fun and try something new!"

I've been drinking beer 'cocktails' for years, not long after I started drinking beer, actually. My first was a Berliner Weisse with a schuss of raspberry syrup, stirred with ice in a goblet, and it was wonderful: refreshing, not too sweet, cold, and very different from what I was used to back in 1983.

The next was a long line of black & tans* (also called half-n-halfs, checkerboards, mother-in-laws, and other...less printable names) at brewpubs, starting at the first brewpub I ever entered, the Front Street Pub, in Santa Cruz (sadly closed, but a seminal place for me: it was where I first had squid, shark, and oyster shooters, and where I first wrote about beer). I loved the mix of hoppy amber and dry/roasty stout or porter, and drank it often. The first time I saw the layered-look black and tans, with the nitro-stout floating on top of (usually) boring lager, I was amused, and disinterested. Then I got a layered black and tan in a yard of ale at Cambridge Brewing back in the early 1990s, and I changed my mind: layers good!

Since then I've mixed a lot of beers. We were mad for it in the mid-1990s, then slacked off a bit -- just bored, I think -- and now it's popping again, an echo of the cocktail craze, maybe. I suspect that's why, earlier this year, I was commissioned to write a piece on beer cocktails for a cooking magazine. We went through a number of recipes, and they finally settled on three: a beer with non-alcoholic mixers, beer with beer, and beer with spirits.

There were a couple of leftovers, recipes that they didn't particularly care for. Naturally enough, I thought they were pretty damned good, and I don't want them to go to waste...and the chances of selling another beer cocktail piece seem slim. Here they are. I enjoyed them, hope you do too. (And yes, Stephen, I even mixed liquor with my beer!)

Dry Season – Saison is a spicy, ‘farmhouse’ style of ale from Belgium that I thought might lend itself to the spicy botanicals of gin. I mixed a dry London gin with plenty of juniper (you can spend more, but Gordon’s is crisp and full of flavor) into a glass of saison (I had a bottle of Victory Saison, so I used that), and the result was a somewhat lighter, turbo-charged saison. Take 8 oz. chilled saison and 1 oz. dry London gin. Fill a red wine glass with ice and cold water to chill. Dump the ice and water, add the gin and swirl to coat the glass. Add the saison, pouring to splash. Inhale and enjoy.

Doppel Espresso – Doppelbocks are damned good stuff, and they're a beer wine drinkers can really understand: they aren’t bitter, they’re strong, and they can be either dry, or sweet like a dessert wine. But they also have a nice chocolatey character to them that can get overlooked. I thought some coffee might bring that chocolate out, and it does. A great after-dinner beer cocktail: coffee and dessert in one glass. Take 2 parts chilled doublebock (Spaten Optimator is good; I used the Pennsylvania-brewed Troegenator) and 1 part coffee beer (I used Flying Fish Imperial Espresso Porter; there are a variety of coffee beers available on the U.S. market; check your local brewpubs, too). Blend in one glass by pouring together. Simplicity and deliciousness.



*Before the inevitable "Black and Tan is offensive to the Irish!" comments come rolling in (and I won't allow them to post, so don't waste your time and mine)... The Royal Irish Constabulary Reserve Force, the British paramilitary group that quickly gained a reputation for brutality in the early 1920s in Ireland, became known as the "Black & Tans" because of their uniform colors, true enough. But "black and tan" as the name for a mix of a dark and lighter beer actually pre-dates that, going back into the 1800s. So stop being all Irish-American (like my wife and I are (descended out of Counties Wicklow and Antrim, respectively)) and in my face with it, and relax, and enjoy this delicious mixture for what it is: beer.