|
"Elections have been lost by just 537 votes." -Michael Moore |
Aboot Reader's Rep Home RSS Feed Posts By Topic 2008 Election Baseball Beer Drinking Economics Global Warming Hockey Media-Local Media-National NARN Politics-Local Politics-National Religion Separated At Birth? Travel Contributors The Elder: rightwinger23 at hotmail.com Saint Paul: saintp at excite.com JB Doubtless: abunodisceomnes at hotmail.com Atomizer: atomizer77 at yahoo.com
FEATURES ATOMIZER's A-LIST JB's SACK SITES SAINT PAUL'S SHOW STOPPERS ELDER's ELITE THE USUAL SUSPECTS IN AGGREGATE CENTER OF GRAVITY INVISIBLE AIRWAVES |
Monday, May 12, 2008
A couple of e-mails regarding my post on "bottlenomics."
Todd from Pennsylvania reminds us of the seasonality of Scotch: Scotch is certainly a 'staple' in my house, even being assigned a cabinet top in the dining room, but I don't plan on buying any more anytime soon. Not because of the economy, we're doing fine--it's the the seasonal switch to gin. I'm off to the store later this AM to start stocking up on the staple of spring, summer and early fall, half gallons of Booths. I bet the scotch economy barometer will start to spike in late Sept., early October at the latest. I too make somewhat of a seasonal transition from brown liquors to clear, but I also believe that two things that are always in season are good Scotch and a dry Martini. Dan from Minnetonka waxes philosophically: Read your post on scotch and the economy. The thought comes to mind. Drinking, while a necessity, does not have to be done to the level one would most enjoy. Both in quantity, and more importantly as we mature quality. While there is some truth there, I would disagree on the quality angle. As you get older (and hopefully wiser) you naturally tend to drink less than in your days of misspent youth. But you should be drinking better. Much better. Of course, when your drink of choice in college was a five-dollar liter of gut-rot vodka diluted with Sunny Delight, the bar has been set pretty low. Labels: Drinking Thursday, May 01, 2008
Bill from Maplewood e-mails with some important dates for the basement bar enthusiast:
Enjoy your website. You mentioned basement bars, if you are looking for some 1930s/40s/50s/60s beer and tavern related stuff to put on the walls, it might be worthwhile to check out any of these shows. (The best is the Guzzle and Twirl but it is not until October). LaCrosse, WI--HEILEMAN/CITY BREWERY SHOW Sat. May 3--9 a.m. to 3 p.m. North Star Chapter's and Heileman At Large Chapter's show at the former G. Heileman brewery in LaCrosse, next to the brewery's gift shop. A fun time for all! Contact Dave Wendl, 651-731-9573 for details. St. Paul, MN--SUMMIT BREWERY SHOW Sat. May 17--9 a.m. to 3 p.m. NSC's annual show in the parking lot of the great Summit Brewery. Located at 910 Montreal Circle. Contact Dave Wendl, 651-731-9573. Dubuque, IA--EAGLE POINT PARK SHOW Fri-Sat June 6-7 NSC's and Hawkeye Chapter's annual funfest. Friday night room-to-room at the hotel, Saturday show at Eagle Point Park. Contact Dave Wendl, 651-731-9573 Cloquet, MN--NORDLAGER SHOW AT THE NORTHEASTER HOTEL Fri-Sat July 11-12 NSC's and Nordlager Chapter's 3rd annual show at the grand and glorious and newly restored Northeaster Hotel, 115 St. Louis Avenue in Cloquet, MN. Can't miss this one. Contact Bert at 218-393-0657 or Dave, 651-731-9573 Cold Spring, MN--GLUEK BREWERY SHOW Sat. July 26 NSC's annual show at the former Cold Spring brewery in conjunction with Old Days town celebration. Contact Joe Wendl, 651-731-9573 for info. Chippewa Falls, WI--JACOB LEINENKUGEL BREWERY SHOW Sat. Aug. 9 NSC's annual show in conjunction with Pure Water Days town celebration. Contact Dave Wendl, 651-731-9573 for info. Maplewood, MN--NSC's GUZZLE 'N' TWIRL Fri-Sat. Oct. 10-11 Our big annual show will be at Aldrich Arena and at the Holiday Inn Maplewood again this year. Stay tuned for further details or contact Dave Wendl at 651-731-9573. I would be like a kid in a candy store at one of these shows. Labels: Drinking Tuesday, April 22, 2008
At Infinite Monkeys, David declares The Summer of Gin:
A few years ago, Monkey Ben declared the Summer of Rum. Out of sheer laziness, and inebriation, every summer since has been the summer of rum. And it's been lovely. But now I'm declaring Summer 2008 the Summer of Gin. A gin primer and recipes to follow, no doubt with the same results as Ben's rum posts... For Atomizer, every summer is the Summer of Gin. Along with the Fall of Gin, the Winter of Gin, the Spring... Atomizer Sez: What?! Alcohol has seasons now??!! Nonsense, I declare!!!! Drink what you like when you like...period. Labels: Drinking Saturday, April 12, 2008
In today's WSJ, the paper's noted mixologist Eric Felten reminds readers to Consider the Trimmings (sub req):
Garnish in cocktails is something of a mystery. After all, no one feels the need to dress a glass of Château Lafite Rothschild with stray crudités. And aside from the lime-in-one's-Corona affectation, beer is also free from the garniture imperative. But from the first days of cocktails, the mythology of the drink has involved frou-frou. One of the earliest (though no doubt apocryphal) tales of the invention of this distinctively American drink has a patriotic Revolutionary barmaid named Betty Flanagan plucking the tail-feathers from a Tory's prize roosters and using them to adorn drinks in her tavern -- thus the name "cock-tail." Calling the use of a lime in bottle of Corona an affectation is a bit unfair. While it certainly is in some cases, there are serious beer drinkers (myself included) who believe that the lime is a noticeable flavor enhancer for Corona as well as number of other Mexican beers. I also enjoy adding a slice of lemon to the glass when quaffing a hefeweizen or other wheat beer, although I'm still agnostic on oranges in beer (popular with Blue Moon). When the cocktail came into its own, in the mid-to-late 19th century, ornament was all the rage. Gilded Age drinks were often fancy things, luxuriously draped with boughs of mint and piled high with fruit. But such excesses were stripped away in the 1920s, when two forces intersected. The first was practical -- Prohibition made bartending a more utilitarian affair. The second was philosophical -- the style of the modern age called for streamlining. Given those forces, it's a wonder that garnish didn't disappear altogether. I suspect it would have, long ago, if the odd bit of foliage didn't serve some fundamental purpose. Good garnish does accentuate the positives in a glass. But by the same token, bad ornamentation is the death of one's drink. Bar guru Dale DeGroff despairs of the long black, segmented plastic tray with the clear plastic lid that sits behind most bars, containing a room-temperature selection of wizened olives, shriveled lime wedges, and leathery lemon twists. "How many of my icy Martinis have been ruined by a heedless bartender skewering three huge heat-bombs of olives and thrusting them into my drink?" he laments. A lament I well understand. I like my Martinis dry, chilled, and neat, meaning free of anything other than gin and a hint of vermouth. No olives, no way. I used to work with a sales guy who liked to modify his gin and tonic orders by adding "NFL." In his parlance, the acronym meant "No F***ing Lime." I can handle a small lime corner in a G&T, but I've grown to dislike the large wedge that you often get at a bar. Besides displacing valuable glass space, the huge limes add too much flavor and water down the rich ginny goodness. When it comes to garnishing your drinks, less is usually more. Atomizer Sez: The Elder is right, of course, but an exception must be made for Bloody Marys. This morning I had one with a pickle, an olive and a spicy beef stick. Now that's what I call breakfast. Labels: Drinking Monday, February 18, 2008
Richard Brookhiser provides us with a glimpse of our political past to honor Presidents' Day at National Review Online:
George Washington's two elections to the presidency were nothing like the process, part-marathon, part-cage fight, we are seeing right now. All Washington had to do to get elected (unanimously) was not say that he would not serve. Washington's campaigns were the ultimate bare-bones operation--no pollsters, no fundraisers, no ad buys. Yet he was well-versed in the arts of politics even so. Washington did have to campaign to win his first political office, a seat in the Virginia House of Burgesses, the lower, elective chamber of the colonial legislature. Until early in the 19th century, voting in many parts of America was a festive occasion. You went to the county seat and announced your choice in public; rival candidates plied voters and onlookers with drink (which was illegal, but universal). Washington ran for the House of Burgesses in 1758 while still serving as a colonel in the militia. He could not be at the polling place on Election Day, but he delegated a friend, Lt. Charles Smith, to tend bar in his absence. We know from their correspondence what the Washington campaign served: 28 gallons of rum, 50 gallons of rum punch, 34 gallons of wine, 46 gallons of beer, two gallons of cider (probably hard), for a total of 160 gallons of booze. There were 397 voters. Washington won. If you?re not the candidate of Change, be the candidate of Have Another. While those numbers sound impressive to begin with, they really catch your eye when your break them down. If each of the 397 voters drank an equal amount of all the booze offered they would have chugged: * 9 oz of straight rum * 16 oz of rum punch * 11 oz of wine * almost 15oz of beer * a little less than an ounce of cider That's for each and every voter too. I hope they voted first. In our age of widespread cynicism and disillusionment with the political process, perhaps we could gin up more interest and participation if we gave voters a real incentive to show up. Kegs at the caucuses anyone? A little Pernod at the polling places? I can think of worse things than having a bump or two while filling out your ballot. Labels: Drinking Tuesday, January 08, 2008
On behalf of all of the staff here at Fraters Libertas (especially Atomizer), we officially issue a belated and long overdue Thank You to the good people of Utah. We wouldn't be where we are (or aren't) now without you.
Labels: Drinking Monday, December 31, 2007
Just in time for New Year's Eve, Eric Felten offers some solid advice on cocktails to both drinkers and party hosts. It's from his column in Saturday's Journal on How to Get A Kick From Champagne (sub req):
No amount of sugar and bitters will redeem a lousy bottle of fizz: Use a cheap and nasty champagne, and you will have a cheap, nasty Champagne Cocktail. As in so many things, an Aristotelian mean between the extremes is the answer. Don't waste the best stuff by turning it into a mere ingredient; yet don't use as the backbone of a cocktail anything you wouldn't be willing to drink on its own. It is a principle broadly applicable in the science of liquid refreshment: It assures us palatable cocktails, and puts the lie to the hoary canard that mixed drinks are, by their nature, nothing but dishonest vehicles for delivering substandard liquor. I can't stress how important those words of wisdom are people. Don't you dare--as a relative did at my Dad's retirement party a few years ago--ever mix Coke with a single malt Scotch. But don't think you're going to get off cheaply by mixing rot gut booze to hide its taste either. If you're going to bother to whip up a cocktail (or more importantly serve them to others), pony up an extra couple of bucks and invest in decent hooch. It doesn't have to be great, just good. Try the Felten Test (can you drink it on its own?) if you have any doubt. The top shelf stuff stands on its own and should be consumed that way. When you're mixing cocktails, leave the bottom of the barrell swill to the college kids. You're an adult. You should be drinking (and serving) like one. Labels: Drinking
...is some good whisky. Santa has been thoughtful enough to leave top shelf selections of whisky in my stocking the past few years and I hope to make this a regular Christmas tradition for years to come (hint, hint).
This year's gift was rather unique. A Welsh (yes, Welsh) whisky called Penderyn. I believe it is the only single malt distilled in Wales and it has a very interesting impact on the taste buds. The Penderyn web site describes it thusly: At premium strength (46% vol) Penderyn has an exceptionally balanced taste with an aroma of cream toffee and fleetingly of fresh new heather. Then, as the initial sensations fade, the finishing notes of tropical fruits, raisings and vanilla emerge strongly and are long lasting. I don't know about the cream toffee, heather, and vanilla. All I know is that it tastes good. It's hard to go wrong with the gift of whisky. Labels: Drinking Friday, December 07, 2007
News from the mean streets of Stillwater:
Shortly after 7 p.m., police received a report that someone had assaulted a Salvation Army bell ringer stationed outside the Walgreens store at 6061 Osgood Ave. According to a store manager, the 43-year-old St. Anthony man might have been drunk and fallen to the ground rather than assaulted. I think its admirable for Atomizer to get involved with charitable activities during this Advent season. If he could only wait on the spiked eggnog until after his shift is over. Labels: Drinking Thursday, November 22, 2007
10:18 am
JB: Ahh...time to crack the first beer of the day Wife: It's only ten o'clock! JB: I didn't say it was time for the first bourbon! Wife: It's only ten o'clock! JB: (opening beer, a Summit IPA) it's holiday UPDATE: It's now 11:22 and I'm on to a Summit Pilsener. I love Thanksgiving! Labels: Drinking Monday, November 19, 2007
A graph in a story in yesterday's Strib on the dangers of binge drinking on your twenty-first birthday and what people are trying to do to minimize the risks caught my eye:
Twenty-one-year-olds think they're invincible and they can do crazy things and get away with it," said Ed Ehlinger, director of the University of Minnesota's Boynton Health Service. "The 21st birthday is probably the riskiest time. More kids get in trouble on that day than any other day of their 21st year."They are now legal and there is a lot of pressure to celebrate this big event. They intellectually know that alcohol can kill you, but they don't internalize it and they do respond to the peer pressure." We're talking twenty-one-year-olds, right? I can understand peer pressure and feeling invincible when you're eighteen, but shouldn't you have matured past most of that by the time you hit twenty-one? It wasn't that long ago when an average twenty-one year old might have already served a stint in the military, be married with a child (or one on the way), and be holding down a regular full-time job. So what's changed? Perhaps part of it is the expectations we now set. When you make the drinking age twenty-one, you're sending a message that people can't be trusted with controlling their drinking until that age. You set the stage for abuse and misuse of alcohol up until that point (and after) and create an allure of the mystery of the forbidden fruit. Instead of trying to come up with a largely arbitrary age (why twenty-one and not twenty or twenty-two?) when you let people drink legally, why not make it the same age that we legally consider people adults, eighteen? But instead of making it a milestone for being able to drink as much as you want, let's return it to an event that carries with it added responsibility along with its freedoms. You're eighteen. It's time to grow up and act like an adult. It's time to be serious about your life. You can drink and have fun, but you'll be expected to drink like a adult. Part of this would involve introducing alcohol at an earlier age in controlled settings. There's no reason a sixteen-year-old shouldn't be taught how to enjoy a glass of wine or beer with the family at dinner. Alcohol shouldn't be a taboo and drinking shouldn't be all about getting loaded and acting stupid. Kids should be taught both the positive side and the peril of drinking. The message shouldn't be all or nothing, that you're either a teetotaler or an alcoholic. The path of moderation is one that far too few Americans discover until well past the time they should have. What we're doing now is clearly not working. You can further infantilize society by move the drinking age out again, you can prohibit people from drinking at midnight on their twenty-first birthday (as Minnesota does), and you can warn people all you want about the dangers of binge drinking. But until you change the culture of drinking in America and teach people how to drink responsibly before they reach adulthood, it's not going to make a difference. Labels: Drinking
There is no disputing the fact that the Wall Street Journal's Eric Felten is a cocktail connoisseur (correction via Mitch). His weekly columns provide fascinating back stories on some of history's more famous concoctions as well as shedding a spotlight on deserving drinks from the past that have fallen by the wayside. He's also not afraid to defy convention by altering a drink's recipe (either by changing the mixing ratio or substituting ingredients) in the quest for a more perfect potable. For all this, he is to be commended.
But even the best come up short on occasion as this last Saturday's column by Felten did. In it (sub req), he noted the dearth of drinks associated with Thanksgiving and asked some of his main mixologists to come up with suggestions. I challenged some first-rate mixologists to come up with a Thanksgiving Day drink inspired by that empty cask of Metheglin. The parameters were fairly simple: The drink should involve honey and at least a few of the spices that have been used in Metheglin over the centuries. Oh, and yes, it should appeal to the modern palate. Perhaps the most ambitious entry came from Greg Lindgren, an owner of the San Francisco bar Rye. He proposed poaching quince in honey, water and mulling spices, and then using the warm fruity broth to flavor a glass of brandy. Very nice indeed -- if you succeed in finding fresh quince. Kim Haasarud, who runs an L.A. cocktail consultancy called Liquid Architecture, came up with a terrific aperitif for those hours spent waiting for the turkey thermometer to pop, a drink that we'll call Metheglin Punch. Make a syrup by boiling, then simmering, a pot of honey, water, cranberries, orange peel, cloves, allspice, cinnamon and vanilla. Once it cools, add two ounces of this Metheglin syrup to six ounces of beer. Garnish with fresh cranberries and a slice of orange peel. Wait until after dinner to enjoy the elegant drink designed by Gina Chersevani of Washington's Rasika restaurant. She devised a honey syrup spiced with cloves, cinnamon and whole cardamom seeds. Combine the syrup, while still warm, with gin and calvados, and garnish with thin slices of apple. Made, as it is, with strong waters, I think it's only appropriate that we name this drink after Samoset, the first American Indian to enjoy the Pilgrims' hospitality. Okay, the honey part I'm down with as it does make a connection with the history of the day. The making a syrup part however is right out. I want to mix a cocktail, not spend hours slaving over a hot stove, not to mention messing around with various spices and fruits. Thanksgiving is a holiday of eating, drinking, and enjoying the company of family. A Thanksgiving cocktail should be icing on the cake, not a chore. It needs to easy to make and enjoy. Therefore, I'm issuing a challenge to our readers, JB Doubtless, and other would-be mixologists out there. Come up with an original Thanksgiving cocktail that tickles the taste buds without taxing the work ethic. Bonus points for including honey, but that's not a requirement. Since it does have to have a Thanksgiving angle, it should include American spirits. A catchy name is also helpful. Submit your entries by Wednesday afternoon and we'll post the best one in time for Turkey Day. Experiment early, experiment often. Labels: Drinking Saturday, November 10, 2007
Eric Felten comes up with the perfect drink (of course) for Veterans Day in today's Wall Street Journal (sub req):
Of all the world's armies, the American army gets the best equipment," wrote GI cartoonist Bill Mauldin in 1945. "But we missed the boat on one thing. Every other army gets a liquor ration." Mauldin was part of the otherwise well-equipped amphibious landing on the Italian coast at Anzio in January 1944. The assault caught the Germans by surprise, and the troops might well have charged deep into the Italian countryside. But the timid general in charge hunkered down on the beachhead instead, much to Winston Churchill's dismay: "I had hoped that we were hurling a wildcat onto the shore, but all we had got was a stranded whale." Pinned down along a broad stretch of coast for months, the American troops "were fixing up their own distilleries with barrels of dug-up vino, gasoline cans, and copper tubing from wrecked airplanes," Mauldin recalled in his memoir "Up Front." The result was a rough approximation of grappa. "The doggies called it 'Kickapoo Joy Juice,' " named after the fierce moonshine in the "Li'l Abner" comic. "It wasn't bad stuff when you cut it with canned grapefruit juice." The grappa-grapefruit combination is not something I would have come up with on my own. But if you use some decent, professionally made grappa, the drink is downright tasty and a good way to toast America's veterans this weekend. Felten suggests a mix of two parts grapefruit juice to one part grappa. Cheers! Labels: Drinking Monday, October 01, 2007
Frank Kelly Rich has the back stories on the Ten Greatest Alcohol Icons Of All Time at the Modern Drunkard Magazine Online:
The Hamm's Bear Perhaps a Little Too Happy?  The joyous bear haunting baby-boomers dreams was conspired by Ojibwa Indian Patrick DesJarlait in 1952. Though his name was never revealed on air, around the brewery he was called Sascha, after the brewery founder's wife. Which must have thrilled her no end--what woman wouldn't want to be the namesake of an obese male bear? Being saddled with a chick name didn't seem to bother Sascha much. He spent most of his time dancing and getting into weird adventures with the other animals of the forest, to the point one wonders if there was something other than fish in the "Sky Blue Waters." The wildly-popular commercials employed plot devices ranging from good old-fashioned fun like pie fights and log rolling to more risque activities, such as train robbery, gunplay, arson, and gleeful wolf-abuse. The spots would saturate the airwaves for over 30 years, which is especially impressive when you consider Spuds MacKenzie lasted less than three. Read all ten. Labels: Drinking Friday, September 28, 2007
Earlier today, I was reminiscing on some of my misspent days at college. You appreciate just how far past those days really are when realize that when you think about having a depth charge these days it has nothing to do with beer.
Labels: Drinking Monday, September 24, 2007
Far be it for me to question the masculinity of Vox Day. I leave such waving a red flag at a bull type matters to Atomizer. However, I will say that this post does raise some troubling questions.
As the Modern Drunkard reminds us: 20. Drink one girly drink in public and you will forever be known as the guy who drinks girly drinks. Do you really want to be that guy? Atomizer Waves The Red Flag: I installed two way mirrors in Vox Day's pad in Brentwood, and he'd come to the door in a dress. I'm not saying anything, I'm just saying... Labels: Drinking Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Kurt e-mails:
Barbara Holland would be a great guest in your radio show. Indeed. She'll Drink to That She's a wisp of a woman with short white hair and a face that's weather-beaten enough to be called craggy. She has just published her 15th book. It's called "The Joy of Drinking" and, as the title suggests, it's a lighthearted history of humanity's long romance with strong liquids. ..................... Booze, she writes, is "the social glue of the human race." As soon as humans stopped wandering around looking for berries and settled down to raise crops, they started creating wine and beer and, not coincidently, civilization. "Probably in the beginning, we could explain ourselves to our close family members with grunts, muttered syllables, gestures, slaps and punches," she writes. "Then, when the neighbors started dropping in to help harvest, stomp, stir and drink the bounty of the land, after we'd softened our natural suspicious hostility with a few stiff ones, we had to think up some more nuanced communication, like words. From there, it was a short step to grammar, civil law, religion, history and 'The Whiffenpoof Song.'" Labels: Drinking Sunday, September 02, 2007
In yesterday's Wall Street Journal, Eric Felten wrote on the difficulties that vodka makers are having trying to dfferentiate their brands (since they all pretty taste the same) and brought up a blast from the past (sub req):
For vodka sellers, these are the best of times, in that sales of high-priced vodkas continue to grow. And they are the worst, too, in that just about anyone can -- and is -- getting into the vodka marketing game. "Go into a liquor store or a bar, and there are 20 vodkas on the shelf," says Vic Morrison, marketing veep at McCormick Distilling. The challenge is to come up with some clever gimmick to set one's vodka apart. The salesman who thinks he can crack the market with claims of superior taste will be sorely disappointed: I went to a vodka tasting hosted by the head of a prominent luxury liquor house. It was an exercise meant to dispel the notion that the differences among vodkas are illusory. But after being walked through the vodkas on the table with elaborate descriptions of the characteristics of each, I found myself hard-pressed to discern much difference. So I asked the executive to demonstrate the differences by tasting the vodkas blind. He couldn't even identify his own flagship brand. McCormick Vodka is now in the high-end game? When I was in college, McKormick was our rot-gut vodka of choice along with the likes of Kamchatka, Siberian Ice, Popov and other bargain basement brands that had Russian sounding names despite being distilled in Cold Spring, MN. McCormick used to run $4.99 for a liter and when dilluted with a little Sunny Delight was a cheap, effective way to get mind-numbingly drunk (and suffer some of the worst hangovers imaginable the next day). We even had an anole lizard that we named after our favorite vodka. He was a great pet, whose life was tragically cut short after a close encounter with a sparkler. RIP McCormick. Labels: Drinking Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Front page story in today's Wall Street Journal on how people are profiting from Beer Pong (sub req). That's right, a FRONT PAGE story on beer pong:
Rules vary by region and campus, but beer pong -- a game some call "Beirut" -- typically is played on a 6- to 8-foot-long table where partly filled cups of beer are arranged in triangles of six or 10 at each end. Two-person teams take turns trying to toss a ping-pong ball into one of their opponents' cups. When a ball lands in the suds, the opponents must chug the beer and remove the cup. The first team to eliminate all of the other team's cups is the winner. The game has been gaining fans on campus for more than a decade. But only in the past few years have entrepreneurs begun zeroing in on devotees who spend freely on beer, cups, balls and tournaments. The market appears to be expanding as beer-pong fans go on playing the game after they get out of college. Oh to be young and stupid again. As usual, the scolds are out in force to try to ruin the fun: This week, Georgetown University joined at least a dozen colleges in banning alcohol paraphernalia, specifically including beer-pong tables. Henry Wechsler, director of College Alcohol Studies at the Harvard School of Public Health, says beer pong and other drinking games contribute to excessive drinking associated with drunk driving, sexual assault and other social problems. Yeah, ban the beer-pong tables. That will stop the kids from binge drinking. Labels: Drinking Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Tom e-mails on my post on orphan booze brands:
In a previous position with the company I work for, I spent some time visiting various distilleries in the Commonwealth of Kentucky (among many other things, our company makes components for bottling, packaging and conveying machinery). Before thinking that a visit to a distillery must be heaven on earth, I have to tell you that the average distillery smells like a fraternity house basement on the Sunday morning after the football team upsets the schools biggest rival (or after the Fraters annual meeting?). The mashing process is particularly odiferous and the stale alcohol spilled on the floor is well, I hope you get the picture. Anyway, one of the things I found interesting are the number of different brands the average distillery bottles. Many are brands that I've never seen in a liquor store and my contacts at the time said that many were brands distributed overseas. In some cases the booze was top shelf stuff that was bottled under a different brand name for reasons that weren't explained adequately to "move the goods". At one time I had a little bit of knowledge about what brands were top shelf but bottled under a different brand, but all the testing to see if it was the truth has effected my memory. I understand that Maker's Mark was a brand that had fallen on hard times until the son or grandson of some wheel in the world of Bourbon whisky bought the rights to the name and started making it again like the Sheep Dip brand discussed in your post. Anyway, just as their are tours of wineries in Napa, there are also tours of the distilleries - complete with free tastings throughout the Bourbon country of central KY. I don't know what kind of experience that might offer, but I would certainly recommend a designated driver. Labels: Drinking Saturday, August 11, 2007
Following on the heels of Atomizer's post on unwanted whiskey, Eric Felten looks at orphan booze brands in today's Wall Street Journal (sub req):
Sheep Dip is a classic example of an "orphan brand." Originally made just for the Anchor Inn, a pub in Gloucestershire (where the local rustics' slang for whisky is "sheep dip"), the Scotch grew into a nationally distributed brand. Sheep Dip was successful enough to catch the attention of a major producer, Invergordon, which took over the brand in the early '90s. But soon Invergordon was swallowed by Whyte & Mackay, which was part of what is now called Fortune Brands -- home of Jim Beam, Courvoisier, Sauza tequila (and Titleist golf balls and Moen faucets for that matter). Sheep Dip wasn't even a rounding error for its corporate parent, which eventually let the whisky drift into oblivion. A former marketing director for Glenmorangie single malt, Alex Nicol, spotted the opportunity in the defunct brand. For the big conglomerates, Sheep Dip "wasn't worth getting out of bed," he says. But for a small start-up like the Spencerfield Spirit Company he was setting up, the whisky came with a built-in base of customers -- a base perplexed at the brand's disappearance and eager for its return. Two years ago, Mr. Nicol made a deal for the rights to the brand and set about reviving it. Sheep Dip always had two chief sources of appeal. The first was that it was very good whisky, a vatted-malt blend made exclusively from single malts, without any of the generic grain whisky that goes into most Scotch blends. But perhaps more important was the off-beat branding -- decidedly unslick and antipretentious. A brand like Sheep Dip short-circuits the one-upmanship of connoisseurism, declaring that whisky is something simply to be enjoyed. Or, as Mr. Nicol puts it, a dram should be about "having fun, not taking yourself so bloody serious." Mr. Nicol turned to well-regarded whisky blender Richard Paterson to re-create and upgrade the old Sheep Dip mix of single malt whiskies. Comparing my recently acquired vintage bottle with the new stuff, I found that Sheep Dip 2.0 is true to the original, but more polished, with admirable depth and complexity. Mmmm...Sheep Dip. Seriously though, I've seen Sheep Dip in stores, but never had it pass my lips. Now, I must give it a go. Orphan brands can be mined for their residual value, or they can be revived in earnest, which is what happened with Plymouth gin, a storied brand fallen on hard times. Some early Martini recipes specified Plymouth gin, and the classic 1930 Savoy Cocktail Book -- compiled from the recipes used at London's Savoy Hotel -- called for using Plymouth in several drinks. Among them is a terrific 1920s cocktail called the Charlie Lindbergh, made with Plymouth, Lillet, apricot-flavored brandy and orange bitters. And when it came to gin and bitters, Plymouth was the brand of preference for the British Navy's Pink Gins. In the years before World War II, Plymouth was selling a million cases a year, but by 1975, the brand was sadly diminished, producing only 5,000 cases. For two more decades the factory managed to limp along, tossed from conglomerate to conglomerate as the gin was cheapened and the brand degraded. Come 1996, the lights were about to get turned off for good at the Plymouth distillery, when four investors bought the brand and the plant -- a 15th-century monastery outfitted with an 1855 pot still. They restored the distillery and the quality of the gin, which soon became a favorite with hard-core cocktail geeks looking for authentic products to put in classic drinks. Soon Plymouth was selling enough to attract the attention of the major players, and was bought a few years ago by Vin & Spirit, the Swedish government-owned distillers who make Absolut vodka. With their distribution muscle, Plymouth is now available in stores most everywhere, which comes in handy if you want to make a Martini according to the original specifications. But be sure to try it soon, because you never know how long any brand will be with us. The Swedish parliament voted in June to sell Vin & Spirit, part of a free-market campaign to get out of the business of state-owned businesses. A bidding war for V&S is expected, with Absolut as the prize. Let's just hope that Plymouth isn't orphaned all over again. There will always be a place for Plymouth in my home. Labels: Drinking Friday, August 10, 2007
This bit of utter stupidity comes my way via Eloise at Spitbull: I don't know what is more disturbing...the very idea that someone out there has no clue what to do with a bottle of rare whiskey, the horrific idea of pouring perfectly good booze down the drain or the ridiculous concept that a whiskey bottle may be more valuable than the contents held within. Blogging will be light as I try to wrap my mind around this one. Labels: Drinking Sunday, August 05, 2007
Last night, a crowd of family and friends surprised Atomizer as he walked into the Little Wagon bar in Minneapolis. His initial fears of an intervention quickly dissipated as people shouted "Happy Birthday!" and broke into song. Yes, our own Atomizer--defying most medical experts--has hit the big Four Oh. You've come a long way from the corn fields of Iowa baby.
If you're looking for a different joint to haunt in downtown Minneapolis, you should give the Little Wagon (420 4th Street) a ride. It's got a great classic bar and is part of the burgeoning Keegan's empire of establishments, joining the namesake Keegan's Irish Pub on University and Hennepin in Nordeast Minneapolis. Atomizer Sez: I choose to look at last night's festivities as the celebration of the 11th anniversary of my 29th birthday. It takes some of the sting away from having to look at that big ugly 4 right next to the zero on my cake...which I never got to taste, by the way, you pigs. Seriously, thanks to all who came out. It's quite an experience to face a roomful of family and friends who have gathered for the sole purpose of celebrating your birth. It's also quite gratifying to haul home all of the bottles of liquor they purchased for me so I can do the same. What gave you all the idea that I was a booze hound anyway? Labels: Drinking Monday, July 30, 2007
We are glad to report that Saint Paul's bachelor party did not go awry this past Saturday night, although one invitee did learn the downside of being fashionably late. A variety of beers, top shelf Irish whiskeys, and tequilas were consumed. Food was grilled. Baseball was watched, dissected, and endlessly debated. Bars were hit. No one was arrested. A good time was had by all.
More importantly, we learned that Atomizer can do a killer Frank Pentangeli impersonation. It was as funny the next morning at breakfast as it was in the drunken haze of 4am which shows it has some real staying power. The only slight buzz kill of the entire evening was The Nihilist in Golf Pants whining about going to a karaoke bar so he could debut the new song that's he's been working on. Fortunately for all involved, more sober minds prevailed and the integrity of the event was maintained. Labels: Drinking Thursday, July 26, 2007
Canadian boys will be boys:
Lets just say in Lutsen, Minn., pop. 1,200, they will not soon forget the day a Hurricane blew into town to party with a Penguin and a bunch of wild Canucks. "Our jail had never been full before," laughs Darcy Ziller of the Cook County Sheriff's office in nearby Grand Marais. But a bachelor party Friday for Carolina Hurricanes star Eric Staal, 22, in the resort town on Lake Superior, changed all that and landed the superstar a night in the slammer with nine of his friends and relatives. "We would have kept them all in for the night if we had room," Ziller said. They considered putting Penguins rookie sensation Jordan Staal, 18, and three others in the women's cells but "since there was a woman in there," they decided to release him instead. Needless to say the brothers, hockey royalty from Thunder Bay, will take some good-hearted ribbing at training camp this fall. And perhaps even at the older Staal's wedding next Friday in the Lakehead. It all started out innocently enough... It always does. ...as a day of golf and an evening of partying at the posh Lutsen Resort and Sea Villas on Lake Superior. But as the sun fell and the beer flowed, things became a little rowdier amongst the 20 young men in attendance. "It was a bunch of Canadian boys going wild," an employee at the resort, two hours south of Thunder Bay, joked last night. "It was a bachelor party that went awry." It's been my experience that every truly memorable bachelor party goes awry at some point. Police reports were not as humorous - stating the men were "warned multiple times to be quiet or they may be removed from the property, issued citations, arrested, and/or deported from the country." This young man has had a very trying rookie season, what with the litigation, the notoriety, his subsequent deportation to Canada and that country's refusal to accept him. That was at 12:30 a.m. At 3 a.m., according to a police press release, "staff at Lutsen Resort and Sea Villas ordered the group to leave the property, as they were not obeying the warnings. Cook County Sheriff Deputies, a Minnesota State Patrol Trooper, and a U.S. Border Patrol agent assisted with the removal of the suspects." At 4 a.m., "after leaving the property, the group gathered on Highway 61 and began harassing passing motorists," the release alleges. "The suspects were placed under arrest for disorderly conduct and obstructing the legal process. Some of the suspects fled into the nearby woods." Dude, it's cops! Run! How many of us can honestly say that we haven't been there and done that? Multiple times. When daylight came, the arrested men were no longer disorderly and in fact quiet and co-operative. It's amazing how waking up in jail in a foreign country with a killer hangover will do that to you. If you happen to read reports of similar shenanigans this weekend in the Washington County, rest assured that none of the crack staff here at Fraters Libertas would ever stoop to participate in such unseemly activity. Besides, you can't get kicked out of Stillwater, can ya? Labels: Drinking Monday, July 09, 2007
Tom e-mails with an idea:
Is it time for Atomizer to raid the petty cash drawer at Fraters Worldwide and rate brands of Gin the way you have rated beer? My local muni claimed that Plymouth would favorably compare to Bombay Sapphire. Having read that Bombay Sapphire was Atomizer's brand of choice, I decided to pick up a bottle. I can't tell you if it compares as I've never had Bombay Sapphire. I like the Plymouth in a Martini, but still prefer Tanqueray for a G&T. I'm not certain what that reveals about me, I just find that a Tanqueray G&T quenches my thirst for G&T better than the Bombay. Considering that an Atomizer post is about as rare as Kate Parry posting on a Star Tribune error in her Sunday column, I won't hold my breath waiting for this to happen. Not bad. Even better might be a Martini Tasting Night With Atomizer to sample the various top shelf gins with a true expert. If only we knew someone who owned a bar or liquor store to host such an event... Atomizer Sez: Tom, Your commentary is absolutely spot on with regard to Tanqueray. The finest gin and tonic known to man includes a healthy tilt from the iconic green bottle into a highball glass filled with ice coupled with a cool splash of your favorite tonic. A hearty wedge of lime is the crowning touch. Just make sure to give that lime a good squeeze before plopping it into the mix and you've got the king of all cocktails. Beefeater will suffice for a gin and tonic when you're in a pinch but, and I cannot stress this enough, under no circumstance should you use Bombay Sapphire for a mixed drink. It is a martini gin...period. Pour a splash into your glass, say a quick prayer for the vermouth then enjoy and repeat as necessary. As for "Martini Tasting Night With Atomizer", I'm here...where are you? JB ADDS: No love for Hendricks? That stuff is dee-lishus! And Atomizer, I agree that Bombay is not to be used as a G&T gin. Although filling a water glass with ice and then adding gin aint exactly a "martini" either! What are your thoughts on "Tanqueray 10?" Atomizer Sez: Who said anything about ice? Labels: Drinking Friday, May 18, 2007
At the evangelical outpost, Joe Carter asks What Would Jesus Drink?:
The "weaker brother" argument is often used as a justification for self-imposed (and institutionally mandated) teetotalism. And for good reason. It is scriptural admonition that must be prayerfully considered in regards to an issue like this in which personal conduct can have an impact on others. I myself am sympathetic to that argument and truly wish that I could be convinced that it provided the definitive answer. But no matter how much I want to accept that line of reasoning, I'm stymied by the obvious question: Why did Jesus not refrain from drinking alcohol if it is an obvious "stumbling block" to our "weaker brothers"? There is no disputing the fact that alcohol abuse is, as my SBC brethren point out, the cause of much "physical, mental, and emotional damage." No doubt that was as true in 1st century Palestine as it is in 21st century America. So why didn?t Jesus say that we should avoid alcohol? If nothing else, why did he not refrain from drinking alcohol himself in order to set an example? These types of questions have important implications that go far beyond the concerns about drinking beer or wine. Where does Christian liberty end and institutional authority over matters of conscience begin? Obviously there are times when we need to delineate such boundaries. But we should be cautious about where we mark those lines -- especially when they would put Jesus on the wrong side. Thank God I'm Catholic and therefore untroubled by such questions. Labels: Drinking Sunday, April 08, 2007
After being Duffless for all of Lent, I'm tempted to say:
"Marge, I'm going to Moe's. Send the kids to the neighbors, I'm coming back loaded." But it's probably best to ease my way back off the wagon. Or is it on the wagon? Anyway, cheers and Happy Easter! Labels: Drinking Monday, January 15, 2007
Reading Eric Felten's piece on The Malts of America in Saturday's Wall Street Journal, I was left with one question:
Vodka is fast, but whiskey takes time -- and, as old Ben once sagely observed, time is money. The biggest challenge for the small craft distillers tackling whiskey may not be in making a drinkable spirit, but in finding the cash needed to keep it in barrels for the years it takes to mature. "I remember sitting down with my wife and saying, 'We'll spend $60- or $70,000 and after 10 years we might start getting some of it back,'" says Richard Pelletier, who owns the Nashoba Valley Winery in Bolton, Mass. "At least the kids are young," he joked with his wife, "so at the very least, years from now we can have an open bar at their weddings." The first barrels of Nashoba single-malt whiskey were distilled in 2001 and are still aging. Mr. Pelletier keeps the oldest barrel in his living room, where he can easily steal tastes and keep tabs on its progress. Nantucket Spirits, which has been sailing along with sales of its Triple Eight Vodka, also has a Scotch-style single malt in dunnage. Called "Notch" (for "Not Scotch"), the whiskey was first distilled in 2000 and may finally get released later this year. Nantucket Spirits financed its whiskey experiment by selling cask futures -- a cash-flow technique that Scottish start-ups have been using as well. New American single-malt whiskeys are also in the works at Oregon's House Spirits and Ohio's Woodstone Creek Spirits. Why? Why American Scotch? Are there not more than enough fine Scotches coming out of Scotland already? Doesn't America already have its own proud and distinct whiskey tradition? Every region, nee every community should have breweries that produce unique beers with a touch of local flavor. And the expansion of wine-making to new areas of the globe in recent years should be celebrated. But when it comes to spirits, especially spirits so tied to a country such as Scotch, it would be better to leave good enough alone. Leave the Tequila-making to Mexico. Leave the gin to the Brits. The cognac to the French (and Armenians). Most of all, leave the Scotch to the Scots. Labels: Drinking Tuesday, October 17, 2006
I have officially forgotten how to sleep. Since I awoke Sunday morning, I have lain in bed or on the couch for nearly twenty hours. By my estimate, no more than four of those hours were actually spent sleeping. My head is pounding, my back constantly aches, my throat feels like it has been sliced by rusty razors, I have no voice at all and my soul hurts.
Now, it could be the dramatic change of seasons we experience here in Minnesota that is affecting me so adversely. A few short weeks ago it was 80 degrees and sunny. It has now been 50 degrees and raining for several days. Brutal. It could also be the emotional letdown after my Minnesota Twins were dispatched from World Series contention with incredible haste by a team that, as it turns out, had even less collective ability to hit a baseball. Unbearable. Or...I suppose it could possibly be the activities of this past weekend that have me in such a funk. Late this past Sunday I returned from a weekend trip to parts east of Virginia, Minnesota. It's a semiannual jaunt up north for a couple days of poker and male camaraderie with a few close friends of mine. I like to call it the "The Semiannual See How Much Five Grown Men Can Drink In A Drafty Log Cabin Up North With Two Stinky Dogs And A Freezer Full Of Pizza and Bacon Without Widowing Their Wives Extravaganza" (I know, the title is a bit lengthy...but it is descriptive). This celebration is usually followed by a weeklong period of decompression and detoxification which I like to call "Hell Week". This begins when the alarm clock rings the following Monday morning, as it did yesterday, wrapping up 8 glorious hours of tossing, turning and profuse amounts of sweat. So the detoxification has begun. Actually, it began retroactive to Sunday afternoon when I had my last gin and tonic...but it will continue for a full week after that. Unless, of course, someone were to offer me a drink. It would be rude of me to turn such a gracious offer down and, frankly, nobody likes a rude drunk. I must also have wine with my dinner. A meal without wine is like, well, breakfast...unless Bloody Marys are being served. Then it's not like breakfast at all. In fact, breakfast isn't even like breakfast without Bloody Marys, and my doctor told me I need to eat breakfast every morning. So that's settled. Then there's Thursday Trivia at Keegan's where at least two pints of Guinness shall be required. Oh, and I can't forget happy hour on Friday, game one of the World Series on Saturday and the NFL on Sunday afternoon. There it is in black and white then, my detoxification plan. Bloody Marys at breakfast, wine at dinner with Guinness on Thursday night followed by a long happy hour on Friday and a weekend full of sporting events and beer. All of this is punctuated, of course, by knocking back whatever an acquaintance of mine may wish to buy me anytime in-between (strongly discouraged as I AM trying to recover here, people). By the time I reach my target, 3:00 on Sunday afternoon, I shall be fully detoxified and ready to celebrate with a delicious Bombay Sapphire martini. It's gonna be a rough week. Labels: Drinking Wednesday, September 06, 2006
I had the good fortune of breezing through Fargo last week. Fargo? GOOD fortune? I know, it sounds nutty but bear with me.
First stop was the James Lileks Interpretive Center. While not as interesting or varied as the Mitch Berg Interpretive Center (I mean, how could it be?) in Jamestown, the interactive features were kind of cool. I was able to vacuum what looked exactly like Jasperwood's north solarium and I corrected a faux homework assignment for the Gnat. But the real reason the trip to Fargo was so enjoyable was stopping at arguably the best liqour store in the world (it's a chain of three actually) Happy Harry's. The choices of hootch simply boggle the mind. I spent 10 minutes alone admiring the bourbons--there must have been 25 varities--many of which I had not even been drunk on before. But the real score came when I discovered Shaker's vodka on sale for $18 a bottle. If you've never had Shakers, do yourself a favor. It's made from humble Benson, Minnesota grains and is perhaps the smoothest and tastiest of any of the top shelfs out there. I was able to procure a bottle of rye vodka AND wheat. I'm not sure the difference but we'll soon find out. (My wife only allows me to drink heavily on Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, so I have one more day...) UPDATE--Atomizer Adds: JB is clearly delusional. The only liquor store worth patronizing is Glen Lake Wine & Spirits in scenic Minnetonka, MN. It's the only booze purveyor that meets with my incredibly stringent standards. That name again is Glen Lake Wine & Spirits. Stop by today...and tell them that Atomizer's liver sent you. UPDATE II: JB RETORTS And your preference of this store has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that their lack of security has allowed you to five-finger-discount your way to drunken bliss on more than one occasion now does it? Sorry I had to rat you out on the internet like this, but I'm sure the proprietors were kind of wondering why you never seemed to buy anything and were at the store 3-4 times a week. Labels: Drinking Monday, June 26, 2006
What: Scotch tasting and cigar-smoking evening with the Northern Alliance Radio Network
Where: The patio at Keegan's Irish Pub & Restaurant in Northeast Minneapolis When: Friday July 7th at 7pm Why: More fun than you should legally be allowed to have (and given its recent history, it's quite possible that the City of Minneapolis may soon ban any such future gatherings) Cost: $25 for a sampling of top shelf single malts with a Scotch tasting expert. There will also be a cigar based trivia contest with winners receiving cigars specially selected to compliment the Scotches. Cigars will be provided by the fine gentlemen from St. Croix Cigar in Hudson. No pre-registration necessary. Just show up at Keegan's on the night of July 7th. Even if you're not a Scotch fan, stop by for the usual mix of beer, food, and camaraderie that Keegan's is known for. Hope to see you there. UPDATE-- Theresa e-mails with her regrets: Although I am a proud MOB member, I'd sincerely like to know how many women drink whiskey and smoke cigars? And just how would I let my DFL husband know that I was going to a mostly Republican whiskey-drinking and cigar-smoking gathering? Thanks for the invite, though. I will be there in spirit. Sincerely, A beer lover First of all, there are no doubt some women who do enjoy fine whisky and cigars. But even if you are not among them, it doesn't mean that you won't enjoy the event at Keegan's. You don't have to participate in the Scotch tasting if it's not your bag. You can avail yourself of the many fine beers that Keegan's offers on tap. Or wine, vodka, gin, or whatever your preferred beverage of choice happens to be. The second part your problem is a little dicier. This just might be a good opportunity to show your husband that conservatives are not the uptight, dour lot that we are often portrayed as in the media. In fact, he may discover that he enjoys hanging out with a group largely made up of happy, well-adjusted people (from a piece in today's WSJ by Arthur C. Brooks-subscription required): For example, data collected on Americans in 2004 by the National Opinion Research Center show that self-described political conservatives are almost twice as likely as political liberals to say they are very happy with their lives. These differences are not due to demographics such as education, income, age, gender or race. Indeed, if two adults are identical in all these ways and only differ in their politics, the conservative will be, on average, 14 percentage points more likely to say he or she is very happy than the liberal. Political conservatives are also far less likely than liberals to express maladjustment to their adult lives. For example, adults on the political right are only half as likely as those on the left to say, "at times, I think I am no good at all." They are also less likely to say they are dissatisfied with themselves, they are inclined to feel like a failure, or they are pessimistic about their futures. Labels: Drinking Monday, December 13, 2004
I stopped into the Sam's Buze Mart Club or whatever it's called yesterday in search of a large, cheap bottle of high quality bourbon, as I believe Lileks mentioned a few weeks back that one of his butlers had scored a liter of Makers Mark for him at a Sams for 20 dollars.
Sadly, they had no Makers, but I was tempted by a bottle of Shakers vodka for $26, since it normally goes for at least 30. But I passed and headed to the regular old Hop Hut, knowing a nice selection of bourbons awaited me. Blanton's is okay, as I have a bottle at home, and the bottle with the little horse on the top is cool and all, but for $41 that sauce better knock me out and it didn't. Woodford Reserve at $31 is awful. It has a decidedly Windsorian flavor to it and I haven't had Windsor since the last time the Elder had me over to his house (cheap bastard). Makers and Knob Creek, both at around $20, are quality bourbons, but since this is "The Holidays" I wanted to get something a little more special. Whiskey River (~$30) is supposed to be good, but the picture of Willie Nelson on the box makes me question their marketing (after all he's really more of a smoker than a drinker). So, after weighing my choices, I snatched a bottle of the exquisite Baker's ($30), a 107 proof, smooth, yet complex sipping bourbon that is especially welcome in the winter months and brought it to the counter. As I approached the Buze Guy asked me if I had tried Baker's bigger brother, Booker's ($42) which clocks in at a shocking 127 proof with even more taste. Naturally, I had to get it. Upon returning home and immediately pouring myself a healthy tumbler full (the Doubtlessette was visiting a friend) I have to say it is everything Buze Guy said it was. I cut it with an ice cube, thinking it would still be "hot" but it was surprisingly smooth for something with so much horsepower. And the taste lingers on your tongue long after the sip has leaves your mouth. Delicious. One warning about this hooch though: one glass will put you over the moon. I consumed one and soon found myself listening to a Dimebag Darrell tribute on Sirius and really enjoying it (I had never heard a Pantera song before). So much so that I started operating the speed dialer on my cell phone so I could share my experience with the Nihilist in Golf Pants, Saint Paul and The Elder. Since none of them were home, I left what must have sounded like really weird messages on each of their machines. Some consisted of Pantera music, some the Stoner Dude comments from the radio guys doing the tribute and for Saint Paul's message, I held the phone up to the TV, which was broadcasting a Ted Kennedy speech (I guess that was appropriate). The next morning, after waking up surprisingly un-molested (two Totinos party pizzas is great preventative hang over medicine, fyi) I got an email from the Elder stating that his wife was rather freaked out by some weird messages left on his machine and he suspected either a. a stalker or b. that I had something to do with it. Upon learning it was me, he wrote "What exactly were you drinking?" Bookers, dear brother, Bookers. Labels: Drinking Thursday, February 05, 2004
This Christmas while celebrating with family, the Elderette's gracious father offered the thirsty brother of a son-in-law a delightful new gin. "I can't give that stuff away" he commented, referring to his troubles selling such a curious creation to cynical bar owners and liquour stores. Being as the booze in question was free and given the undeniable fact that the gathering of family members is not without its stresses, I imbibed in a healthy glass of the delicious substance and it was a revelation.
The gin? Hendricks. The bottle announces "Welcome to a most iconoclastic experience" and "A gin made oddly" as well as "Preferred by 1 in 1000 gin drinkers". The key to the unusual taste is an uncanny infusion of coriander, citrus peel, rose pedal, juniper and...cucumber. I had almost forgotten the joy I had taken in this elixir until last night when I was in the liquour store. After filling my cart with this week's selections and thinking I would just grab a quick fifth of the Atomizer's fave Bombay Saffire, I happend upon the short stock bottle and was immediately taken back to that night in the basement. I heartily recommend picking up a bottle, if you are up to it. Everybody likes to be an iconoclast and this is your chance to be the first iconoclastic gin drinker in your social coterie. Labels: Drinking Wednesday, January 07, 2004
From Modern Drunkard magazine (thanks for the tip, Elder), today's reason to get soused is the invention of the Flying V guitar on this date in 1958. Vodka tonics are recommended. I guess I can drink to that.
Tomorrow's reason? One hint: the recommended drink is a "Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love". You better believe I'll be drinking to that. Labels: Drinking Thursday, September 04, 2003
Tomorrow morning at 6:00, I will be heading up to Lake Vermilion in northern Minnesota for two days to hunt the elusive muskellunge with 5 other men, three boats, several bottles of Powers Irish Whiskey, a half gallon of Bombay Sapphire, about 8 cases of beer, some vodka and an arsenal of bottle rockets and Black Cats (for boat to boat combat).
For those of you unlucky enough to be in the vicinity of Everett Bay Lodge this weekend, consider this to be your only warning. And now, the obligatory Simpsons reference: Homer rents a boat from a man in a booth, who hands him a key. Man: There you go. And I assume you've read the boat safety manual. Homer: Oh, yeah. Couldn't put it down. Come on, boy, let's get me a six-pack! Man: Uh, sir, you can't operate a boat under the influence of alcohol. Homer: Oh, that sounds like a wager to me! Labels: Drinking Friday, May 23, 2003
Deal is sealed: 2 a.m. closing time for bars in Minnesota
Good news. Ten years ago I would have regarded this event as earth shattering and would have been out in the streets celebrating. Today I just smile and say about time. Labels: Drinking
|
TALK O' THE TOWN 
Listen to the Northern Alliance Radio Network on Saturdays from 11am 'til 5pm on AM 1280-The Patriot:
Listen Live!
TRIVIAL PURSUITS |
![[Powered by Blogger]](bloggerbutton1.gif){kind=small}
