The Speakeasy: Secret Passages, Drag Shows and Booze

Speakeasies today are nothing like the OG hidden bars and hustle of the 1920s. Back then, a Speakeasy was a super-secret bar that served booze illegally, usually hidden inside some other kind of establishment – like a grocery store or unmarked building. You had to know somebody, who knew somebody, who knew where it was. And who knew the secret password. Then hope a police raid won’t haul your deviant ass to jail.

America Walks into a Bar: Spirited History of Taverns and Saloons, Speakeasies and Grog Shops by Christine Sismondo

Some trendy bars use the Speakeasy’s secretive, shady character as part of an overall theme, then go rogue from there. More on this later. Personally, I’m all for a really cool, authentic bar experience, but to a point – I will NOT drink booze made and served in a bathtub.

There’s no shortage of articles and posts online about Speakeasies, their history, Prohibition, yadda yadda. For those of you who’ve been living in a cave, or are new to the cocktail scene (same thing), here’s a VERY brief history.

During the Prohibition era in the United States, when the sale of alcoholic beverages was illegal, the Speakeasy – also known as a blind pig or blind tiger (Google it!) – became popular. Some say the word ‘Speakeasy’ came from 19th century England’s and Ireland’s ‘speak-softly shops’, in which customers spoke in discreet whispers to avoid detection.

The Mob Museum

The Mob Museum

And if you’d like to know more, The Mob Museum in Las Vegas has a section dedicated to Prohibition, bootleggers and Speakeasies. Enjoy!

Moving on…

The Ol’ Hide-a-Bar

Some new bar opened nearby that claimed to be a Speakeasy, so I had to get over there and see if it met the Speakeasy bar criteria. It was hidden inside another establishment – an Italian restaurant. No shady, well-dressed, darkly handsome Mafioso-looking gents at a corner table to add to the ambience, to my dismay. Then there was the secret password, which I had to get from the maître d’.

As instructed, I walked through a hallway, where a “secret” door opened to a warehouse. After walking to the other end of the warehouse, I saw the old-timey phone booth in a corner. I spoke the password into the receiver, and then was told where I could find the secret passage. So far it checked all the boxes.

The Speakeasy bar was a cozy lounge with a retro vibe. Old newspaper clippings on the wall about the Prohibition era icons and arrests, artsy posters of cocktails, and very tasty booze.

Also very cool – they can ‘smoke’ any drink on the menu, including my Old Fashioned cocktail! NIIICE!

I gotta say…if you’re here for the ladies, take my advice: Ladies like atmosphere. And Speakeasies have lots of it!

Speakeasy on a Sunday is a Real Drag

Another drinking establishment nearby claimed to be a Speakeasy-THEME bar, and I truly do respect the clarification. Went there on a Sunday afternoon, through the front door, and down to the basement.

It was a cozy dive bar. Hanging around were some gents, mostly ladies, and the Kings and Queens of Drag.

And then the show started! YEAH, baby! Speakeasy Sunday is how I do CHURCH!

Cheers!

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The Southside

Signature cocktail at the 21 Club, a popular Prohibition-era bar. It’s also said to be the favorite drink of notorious Prohibition-era bootlegger, Al Capone.

2 oz. dry gin
¾ oz. fresh lemon juice
1 tsp. superfine sugar (or use simple syrup)
8–10 mint leaves
Chilled club soda

Place mint leaves in shaker and gently muddle. Add the gin, lemon juice and sugar, and stir to dissolve. Fill the shaker with large pieces of ice and shake gently—to keep from pulverizing the mint—for about 10 seconds. Double-strain into a highball glass

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Imbibe Magazine

The Mob Museum

America Walks into a Bar: Spirited History of Taverns and Saloons, Speakeasies and Grog Shops
by Christine Sismondo (Photo: 1927 Speakeasy owner Texas Guinan about to step into paddy wagon. Image donated by Corbis)

Britannica/Speakeasy

Wikipedia/Speakeasy

The Underbar

Giatti’s Speakeasy

The Pickleback: Booze and Pickles, #Why?

Some experiences are more “cautionary tale” than “epic adventure”. Like cocktail ingredients that shouldn’t occupy the same shot glass. Irish Cream and lime juice, for instance. Plus, others that shouldn’t even be in the same room.
Case in point, mayonnaise.

AND YET!…
Bailey’s Irish cream + lime juice = The Cement Mixer
Absinthe + vodka + mayonnaise = The Stinger Worm

Just goes to show there are people with minds and palates far more open than mine. Like the Irish! Although their reactions don’t vary much past anger:

https://youtu.be/rFH0J29QMKc?t=109

Or even bewilderment:

https://youtu.be/rFH0J29QMKc?t=119

Which brings me to today’s cautionary tale (or epic adventure) – The Pickleback!

Cocktail History: The Pickleback

But first, a little cocktail history. The pickleback is a whiskey shot chased by a shot of pickle brine/pickle juice, or a bite of whole dill pickle. Upon first hearing about the pickleback, I was torn between curiosity and outrage. So I tried piecing together the pickleback’s origin story.

Some say in 2006, a customer at Brooklyn’s Bushwick Country Club – one of the divey-est dive bars in New York City, according to Eater – asked for a shot of pickle juice to accompany her vodka. Curious about this request, bartender Reggie Cunningham decided to have his own little experiment by downing several shots of Old Crow Bourbon, each followed with shots of McClure’s pickle juice. He loved it, and started serving what he dubbed ‘The Pickleback’. Later, Jameson became the whiskey of choice for the pickleback.

However, pickle juice chasers aren’t new to the cocktail world. Long before Reggie’s epiphany, they were paired with tequila shots in Texas. Plus, pickle dills followed vodka shots in Russia.

The Pickleback Experience

This all sounded like crazy talk. And in my deeply heartfelt opinion, whiskey is an art and a science, involving craftsmanship and a quest for perfection. So why would anyone … ANYONE … want to F– it up with pickles?? According to one theory, the brine soothes the burn from the booze. We’ll see about that.

On a mellow Tuesday late afternoon, I wandered over to a saloon called The River Pig – a quick stop before heading over to meet a gal pal for HH nachos and tequila. Later that night, mosh pit thrashin’ on Bluegrass night at another local bar.

It was the holidays, so the saloon was decked out in Christmas decor.

What is a “river pig”, you ask?
Back in the day, they were the guys who guided logs down the river to saw mills. They also walked on the floating timber, and used a 12-foot pike to free up log jams. It was a super dangerous job, with guys sometimes falling off one log into the river, before being smashed to death by several others. Because it was so risky, the river pigs were paid more than lumberjacks. Later, that hard-earned money was spent on many glasses of whiskey at the end of the day.

Soon as I sat on my bar stool, I ordered a pickleback. The barkeep brought me two shots – shot of Old Taylor Bourbon and shot of pickle juice. For a while, I just sat there staring at them.

The bourbon shot, I could totally do; it was the pickle juice that gave me pause. I mean, it was A LOT of pickle juice! My courage was faltering. Hmm.

Decided to put in an order for some curly fries, as a precaution or ’emergency response’ tactic. Figured I might need them to scrape my tongue, after I threw up in my mouth. As soon as the curly fries arrived, I was ready.

The Verdict

Down went Old Taylor (MMMMM! Zero burn, by the way). Down went the pickle juice, and….
HUH! It really wasn’t all that horrible. It was actually…kinda tasty! The sweetness from the bourbon and salty sourness of the pickle juice reminded me of those experimental, suprisingly tasty fusion snacks you find at the potato chips section, like chipotle ranch dressing Cheetos, or something.

They say conquering your fears makes you stronger. And perhaps I am a better person after this.

But I STILL draw the line at mayonnaise in my booze. Cheers!

The Pickleback
Adapted from recipe at Liquor.com

Ingredients:

1 1/2 ounces Jameson Irish whiskey
1 1/2 ounces pickle juice/pickle brine

Steps:

Add the whiskey into a shot glass.
Add the pickle brine into a separate shot glass.
Instruct the drinker to take the whiskey as a shot, then the pickle brine as a chaser.

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_Credits:

_{Written and photographed by Alexandria Julaton
TRY Channel on Youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFH0J29QMKc
https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/513951/brief-history-pickleback-shot
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pickleback
https://www.thrillist.com/drink/nation/pickleback-shots-11-things-you-didn-t-know-about-picklebacks
https://www.liquor.com/pickleback-recipe-5087251}

A Ballsy Tale: The Monkey Gland Cocktail

Weeks ago, I wandered over to my favorite watering hole – a bar that served mainly classic cocktails from the 1920s and 30s. Many of my faves were there, along with others I’ve never heard of, but planned to try. Including this one…the Monkey Gland!

I mean, with a name like that, how could you NOT want to taste one, am I right?? I had a feeling it had one helluva backstory.

The Backstory

Dr. Serge Voronoff believed cells from the younger beasts would re-invigorate the older animals. He transplanted organs, tissue and bones from younger horses and sheep into older ones. That was followed with experiments on transplanting monkey thyroid glands into humans, to help them overcome thyroid deficiencies.

The idea being that monkeys shared enough biological similarities to humans, as required for transplants.

Next, Dr. Voronoff focused on the impact of testicles. According to his book “Life: a Study of the Means of Restoring Vital Energy and Prolonging Life” (available on Amazon.com), the sex gland “stimulates cerebral activity as well as muscular energy” as it “pours into the stream of the blood a species of vital fluid which restores the energy of all the cells, and spreads happiness.”

He started transplanting the testicles of executed criminals into millionaires. However, there were more rich men who wanted the testicles than there were dead criminals to supply them.

So he used monkey testicle tissue instead. The testicle grafting became so popular that a special reserve was set up in Africa just for capturing and holding monkeys for gland transfers.

And now… the cocktail!

Disclaimer:
No monkey parts were harmed in the making of this beverage.

The Monkey Gland
Courtesy of the Spruce Eats

1 dash absinthe
2 ounces gin
1 ounce freshly squeezed orange juice
1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons grenadine, to taste
Orange slice, or flamed orange peel, for garnish

Swirl a dash of absinthe in a chilled cocktail glass to coat it, then discard any excess liqueur.

In a cocktail shaker filled with ice cubes, pour the gin, orange juice, and grenadine.

Shake well.

Strain into the prepared glass.

Garnish with an orange slice or a flamed orange peel. Serve and enjoy. Cheers!

———————————————-

Sources:

https://www.thespruceeats.com/monkey-gland-cocktail-recipe-759322

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serge_Voronoff

https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/the-true-story-of-dr-voronoffs-plan-to-use-monkey-testicles-to-make-us-immortal

Photos by pexels

Holiday Spirits: Barrel-Finished Cocktails

I had the genius idea of my ski-buff boyfriend and I staying at a hotel in Park City, Utah, just walking distance from the slopes. While he was playing in the snow, I’d be downtown feeding my wanderlust.

Being a flatlander, I have never been higher than 700 feet above sea level, unless I was on an airplane. Found out the hard way that high altitude sickness was an actual thing. Plus, it was a real b—-!

In a couple of days, the vomiting stopped and headaches were mercifully less frequent. Eventually, the dizziness and shortness of breath eased up, too.

My boyfriend told me that when his parents were in Peru, they were given “cocaine tea” to help with their high altitude sickness. The proper term is “coca tea”, which is coca leaves boiled in water. Note: Chewing the leaves or drinking the tea could get you a positive drug test for cocaine. And yet I would have KILLED to drown my misery in gallons of that stuff from day one!

While exploring downtown Main Street, I wandered over to a side street and found the High West Saloon. Their distillery is a few miles away but, sadly, tours are on hold during these Covid times. At the saloon, they served up their award-winning spirits in a shot glass, in a cocktail, and in their food.

The saloon was a mellow, chill place to grab an appetizer and a very tasty Boulevardier, made with their own American Prairie Bourbon. I liked my cocktail so much, I had to come back the next day. Both times, I forgot to take a pic of the exterior, probably coz I couldn’t wait to get inside. So the screengrab below is from their site.

One of the things I noticed on my way to my table was a “shrine” to their barrel-finished Manhattan.

On their menu, I saw that they featured two cocktails finished in their whiskey barrels – the Manhattan and the Old Fashioned. I’ve only ever seen barrel-aged hard spirits, such as gin or tequila. Plus, one of my favorite whiskeys, Angels Envy, is barrel-finished in port wine casks.

But barrel-finished COCKTAILS? Didn’t know they existed, so I needed to explore this further and deeper!

The next day, I went back to the saloon, scored outdoor seating, and texted my boyfriend to meet me there. While waiting for him to show up, I enjoyed this view from across the street.

There were two barrel-finished cocktails on their menu, so we had to try both. First the Old-Fashioned, then the Manhattan. I preferred the Old-Fashioned. Props for the torched orange peel as a finishing touch! As for my boyfriend, the barrel-finished Manhattan, also very delicious, rocked his world. He bought a bottle at the gift shop to take home.

I gotta say, I am loving the process of aging and finishing hard spirits in barrels recently used for some other liquor! The whiskey barrel finish gave both cocktails added dimensions in their flavor depth, sweetness and aroma. There was an indefinable something; the first word that leaped to my mind was ‘savory’. The next was “extraordinary”.

To anyone visiting Main Street and Park City, Utah, the whiskeys and cocktails at High West Saloon are highly recommended!

Cheers!

Additional sources:
http://www.newperuvian.com/drinking-coca-tea-drug-test-results/
https://www.highwest.com/saloon.php

A Quarantini Cocktail: The Mint Julep

 

So your favorite watering-hole is closed down by the pandemic. Or popping by for a pint while bars are opening at half-capacity (or less) in phases means waiting in line, or making a reservation days ahead.

Fortunately, there’s a solutions for these: the Quarantini! But not having an impressively stocked arsenal, like your favorite bar does, means working with what you’ve got.

So what’s a girl to do? What, indeed.

 

 

The only explosive growth I’ve seen this early summer is the mint plant in my garden. And, like they say, when life hands you mint, make juleps!

 

 

The mint julep has been around since the 18th century, and is still the official cocktail of the Kentucky Derby. It’s been featured in classic literature, such as Gone with the Wind and The Great Gatsby, as well as in stories (rumors?) about some famous writers.

William Faulkner would sometimes go behind the bar at Musso & Frank Grill in L.A. to make himself a mint julep. Ernest Hemingway threw a fit and smashed his drinking glass against a wall at a bar in France, because the bartender served him a crappy mint julep.

Given the extreme reaction to his cocktail, my guess is the base spirit was something NOT bourbon. I mean, I get it. The man was heartbroken, obviously.

As luck would have it, an American tourist was also at that bar with friends. Seeing this outburst, he procured a bottle of Makers Mark from his satchel, thus calming the writer’s rage with a properly made drink.

I sometimes use Makers for this cocktail. Today, though, I’m using Woodford Reserve Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey.

 

 

The ingredients:

1 teaspoon sugar
Bunch of mint leaves
Crushed ice
2 ounces bourbon

Add the sugar.
Put the teaspoon of sugar in a mixing glass. I use Baker’s Sugar, which has finer, smaller granules than regular sugar, so it dissolves more quickly. If you’re using regular sugar, just add about a teaspoon of water to dissolve it completely.

Add the mint.
After you add the bunch of mint leaves in the mixing glass, just press them gently and firmly with your mixing spoon, or muddler. You want to extract the oils without tearing up the leaves.

 

 

If you use a muddler, DO NOT pound the leaves; you’re not making a mojito! Besides, breaking the leaves releases its chlorophyll, which can make your julep taste a little bitter.

Add the ice and bourbon.
Pour some crushed ice on top of the mint leaves. Now add your bourbon, and give it a couple of stirs.

 

 

Work on the presentation.
The cocktail is almost ready for its big moment! Pour the mixture into a highball glass.

Heap more crushed ice, and place a mint sprig on top.

Stir until the glass feels chilled, then add a straw for sipping.

 

 

And now enjoy your summer day with another classic cocktail!
Cheers!

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Sources:

The Mint Julep. The Right and Wrong Ways to Make the Simple Classic.
The Complete History of the Mint Julep

The Smoking Cocktail

One warm summer evening, I was suddenly surrounded by a flurry of pink. It was everywhere – feather boas, hats, tutus, bags, cocktails. There was a charitable event going on and ladies were swarming the town.

I ducked out from all that activity into an alley where I found a cozy bar with large industrial machine parts as theme decor.

As I looked through the drink menu, this stood out almost immediately:

SMOKEE MUSKOGEE • ROCKS • 12
jack daniels honey whiskey, lemon juice, lime juice, simple syrup, cedar plank smoke

Cedar plank smoke?? You saw that right, the bartender said with a smile. I ordered it right away, dying with curiosity as I waited for the show. The bartender came out of the backroom with his ensemble, including a blowtorch and a wood plank.

It was SO butch!

 

Other customers turned to watch, as he held up the piece of wood and torched it to a fiery glow. It was so close that I could smell the burning cedar.

 

 

While the flames were still dying down, he placed the burned wood plank down in front of me, then inverted a rocks glass over the char.

 

 

I stared fascinated at the roiling smoke captured in the glass, but also wondered nervously if the glass would suddenly explode and shatter from the air pressure and heat.

 

 

I was suddenly distracted by the bartender shaking up a cocktail – one of my most favorite sounds in the world (am I right, Nick Charles?). He poured about an ounce of the cocktail into a small glass and set it aside, but kept the rest in the shaker.

 

 

In a few seconds, he turned the rocks glass upright. With the smoke still inside the glass, he poured in the cocktail, infusing it as the smoke slowly drifted up and around the rim.

I was given the small glass with the ounce of cocktail, to first try the cocktail without the smoke. It was delicious and fresh.

And then I tasted the smoked cocktail.

 

 

Mind blown! It was AMAZING! The smoke infusion gave the cocktail depth and dimension that no other ingredient on a bartender’s shelves ever could. Now I’m wondering what other cocktails can be smoked and taken up several notches.

This definitely made it on my shortlist of greatest cocktail experiences and cocktails that are simply beyond!

Cheers!

Cocktail Backstory: The Communist and Tom Collins

 

A perfect martini should be made by filling a glass with gin then waving it in the general direction of Italy.” – Noël Coward

 

 

“Barkeep!” says I.
“Aye, miss, what shall I make for ye?” says he.
“I would like a cocktail…with an interesting backstory.”

The gauntlet was thrown, and he met the challenge with two words,”Communist Cocktail.”

 

 

He didn’t know the details, but said the cocktail’s name had to do with the era during which it was created. As I sat waiting for my cocktail, he handed me a book entitled, “Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails”.

 

I looked up The Communist:

“This enjoyable number with the unforgettable name derived from a crude and otherwise quite forgettable cocktail pamphlet from 1933 titled Cocktail Parade. As photographers say, though, it just takes one picture.”

 

 

Huh. Not much of a backstory. When my drink arrived, turns out it wasn’t much of a cocktail, either. My reaction after a couple of sips was a shrug and a “Meh.”

It became apparent that the only thing this cocktail had going for it was its cool name. And clearly, it did belong in a “Forgotten Cocktails” book. Not only should it be forgotten, they should also put a “Do Not Rescucitate” warning next to the recipe.

 

 

Here’s a cocktail that actually has somewhat of an interesting backstory:

Tom Collins

Back in 1874, someone decided to play a joke a bunch of New Yorkers. He’d go to one person, asked them if they knew someone named Tom Collins. “Nope, never heard of him.” they’d say. Then they’d be told Tom’s been bad-mouthing them all over town, ruining their reputation. Of course, the enraged person would go on a revenge-seeking manhunt for Tom Collins, ready to lynch the slandering bastard.

This would be done over and over again to different people, until what began as one upset person became a vengeful, angry horde. This lame joke went so viral it became “The Great Tom Collins Hoax of 1874.”

One bartender decided to capitalize on this trend by creating a cocktail called Tom Collins. Anyone popping into his bar looking for Tom Collins would end up ordering the cocktail. Hilarious, right?

Here’s a youtube video, in case you wanted to try making this at home. The recipe itself is after the post.

Click on image to watch video

 

Corpe Reviver #2

This cocktail doesn’t have an elaborate backstory, but I like the name. In my last blog post (Cocktails – Craft versus Cool), I ordered a Corpse Reviver #2. When made properly, it’s actually one of my favorite cocktails. Interestingly, it was one of several other concoctions of the same name that was originally created in the 1930s as a hangover cure…

Hangover cure = Corpse reviver.

Get it?  :^  )

 

 

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Tom Collins Cocktail
Recipe courtesy of New York Times

2 ounces Old Tom gin (like Ransom)
1 ounce simple syrup
¾ ounce lemon juice
Soda water
Lemon wedge, for garnish
Cocktail cherry, for garnish

Shake gin, syrup and juice with ice until chilled, about 15 seconds. Strain into an ice-filled highball. Top with soda water. Garnish with lemon wheel or wedge and a cherry.

 

 

 

Stripper Nachos and the Margarita Lesson

 

What could possibly make quittin’ time even better? Happy hour!

My girlfriend Renee was meeting me after work. I worked through lunch so that I could leave early and snag us a table at the bar. Downtown bars filled up fast during happy hour with people trying to score cheap eats, house drinks, and someplace to go to wait out the horrible traffic.

Renee was my newest gal pal, so I wanted to pick out a nice bar for our first meetup, one with extensive happy hour offerings. She liked Mexican food, so I figured a nice, upscale Mexican bistro with a death fetish and flaming coffees would make for a great impression. I think she mentioned she was vegetarian, so I ordered non-meat nachos from the happy hour menu as our starter snack. And of course, a good, solid margarita (this place uses fresh lime juice, not sweet and sour mix) to celebrate the end of the day, and the beginning of a new friendship!

 

 

I chatted with the bartender a bit, told her I noticed they made margaritas with just tequila silver, a blanco, as opposed to a reposado or anejo. She explained that because the anejo and reposado were smoother and sweeter than the blanco, they would make the margarita too sweet and the tequila too difficult to detect. Plus the anejo and reposado, being aged and smoother, were more expensive than the blanco. Mixing them into margaritas would be wasteful, and should instead be enjoyed neat.

 

 

A few minutes into my margarita, I texted Renee to see if she was still coming. When I looked up, there she was with her sparkly hazel eyes and grinning red lips. Even after a full day’s work, she looked wide awake and unstoppable! I offered her the nachos while she was reaching for the cocktail menu. “Oh, I can’t.” Renee said apologetically. “I’m vegan, gluten-free and dairy-free.”

We scoured the menus for animal-free/gluten-free items and came up empty. “That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll just order a side of carrots.” This place was a fail and utterly unacceptable. I was open to suggestions.

 

 

Renee was familiar with the dietary restrictions food scene, and suggested a place I’d never heard of that was just a few minutes away. The entrance was in a narrow, seedy alleyway. Fortunately, it wasn’t completely dark yet. But at this time of year, 4:30 pm was sundown.

 

 

Looking at it from outside, I thought, “Wow, what a hole. Renee comes HERE?”. Walking in, I noted that the place was small but clean, and did have a respectable bar with a good liquor selection. The prayer candles were an interesting detail, too. There were lots of them, for whatever reason. I decided to trust and roll with it.

 

 

It was still happy hour, so we could get deep discounts on food, well drinks and cocktails. Renee ordered vegan nachos and I got tacos. In my experience, happy hour margaritas were mostly fruit-flavored sugar water with almost no tequila, and the one I had there lived up to all my expectations. Still, the food was really tasty.

 

 

Halfway through my drink, I needed the restroom, and was told to go through this strange door to get there. The signage confused me. No minors allowed in the restaurant, or no minors permitted to use the restrooms?

 

 

As I opened the door, the first things I noticed were darkness, and loud throbbing music. Not the clubby, dance-y kind you’d bounce to while sipping your appletini; more like the slow, grinding raw kind you listened to while sullenly throwing back shots. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed a silent crowd drinking, watching young pretty girls on stage writhing, swaying, and whipping their hair around.

On the dimly lit path to the bathroom, I had stumbled into a labyrinth of sin and nubile flesh that left nothing to the imagination. I watched as men walked up to the stage and shoved their dollar bills into unmentionable places on ladies bending, kneeling, waiting to receive their treat.

Where the hell was I??
Oh. Right. I’m at a Mexican restaurant that shares bathrooms with a strip club, of course.

 

 

I took no pictures of all this because the bouncer seated by the door was looking at me like that would be a really bad idea. Seeing the ladies prance and dance with money tucked into their naughty parts really made me think about the dollar bills in my wallet. Oh, the places that paper money may have been. I think I’ll be transacting on a credit card-only basis from now on.

From that day forward, to Renee and me, that restaurant was code name: Stripper Nachos.

You never forget your first time: A hard cider tale

One sultry Saturday evening, my besty and his partner invited me to join them on a neighborhood crawl. It was impossible to resist: summer, Saturday night, and a trendy ‘hood filled with quirky stuff/people – a winning trifecta I just couldn’t turn down.

 

I met D and G at their charming little downtown studio, conveniently located just a couple of blocks from hipster central. We were all hugs and chatter about shops and bars to check out that night. There were a couple of places on our radar, but the rest of the evening was wide open.

 

 

We bounced around like pinball triplets – an antiques store here, until we dashed over there to the chocolates specialty store, pondered a visit to the palm reader, went around the corner for adult costumes, which was near an exotic tea shop, next door to a place with soaps that looked and smelled good enough to eat, etc.

 

 

It was about 8 or 9 pm when we stopped at a pub for some refreshment before we continued exploring. The pub aspired to be unpretentious (which you can’t really be with such a strong hipster vibe), with lots of wood and brick, family-style dining tables, speakers playing random music genres, and a really friendly, young, tattooed/pierced wait staff. We went straight to the drinks menu, to get the really important choices out of the way, before considering any after-thoughts, like food.

 

 

By the way, this was years ago, before I was fully immersed and versed in the craft cocktail scene, and definitely long before I knew my limitations. D ordered a pint of their hard cider, and G decided on a crisp lager to cool off with on this humid summer night. Being new to the art of imbibing in boozey beverages, I played it safe and ordered a glass of dry white wine. When our order arrived, I kept eyeballing the others’ drinks. Such beautiful amber colors! G let me try his lager, which was refreshing and light, with a tiny bit of hopsey bite. D let me try his hard cider, and I couldn’t give it back.

 

 

I have never had hard cider before. D tried to explain the cider-making process, but I was too distracted to really listen. He may have also mentioned that it was pretty potent. But all my brain could hear was “MMMM it’s like…apple juice! But better! How can a process, with a few steps more or less here and there, end up producing either apple cider, apple cider vinegar or hard cider? Genius!” The hard cider was delicious, fresh, not too sweet, and lovely to look at. So golden. I just couldn’t put it down. It was like apple juice, but better, and with a kick! Realizing he wasn’t getting his hard cider back, D ordered another one.

 

 

Did I mention we forgot to order food? Hard cider on an empty stomach. Naturally, you know what comes next.

It’s funny how the booze gently flows into your bloodstream before sucker punching your brain. I recalled a quote from Jack Kerouac’s book “Dharma Bums”:

“The first sip is joy, the second is gladness, the third is serenity, the fourth is madness, the fifth is ecstasy.” He was talking about sipping tea, but it sort of outlined my stages of hard cider discovery:

1 – What is this tasty, amazing drink? MMMM
2 – I’ve discovered a new thing and it’s wonderful!
3 – Ahhhh, yessss, so delicious…hard cider….
4 – What?? No! You’re not getting this back!
5 – …

 

This is where my brain goes fuzzy, then the room, and everyone in it, gets that weird but wonderful haze around it. Like the lotion-on-the-camera-lens effect in a Star Trek scene when Capt. James T. Kirk notices an attractive female on-board. Cue the flutey seduction music.

G paid the bill, and we walked outside. I felt wonderful and float-y, I decided to do a pirouette I just learned in ballet class, when I suddenly felt a couple of firm hands on both my arms yank me back. Apparently, I almost danced into oncoming traffic.

I was insufferably silly, and D and G were losing patience. They outvoted me and called an end to our evening adventure. Spending the night with two lovely men in their cute downtown studio sounded, well, crowded. D, my wonderful knight in shining armor, decided to drive me home to make sure I got there safely, even though my apartment was just a bus ride away. G stayed behind to, I don’t know, fluff pillows or something.

D decided to take a shortcut through the hills. Unfortunately for me, they were winding hills. I opened the window, thinking the night air would get rid of my nausea. I unbuckled my seat belt. With every turn, the cider splashed around in my stomach, becoming increasingly volatile. And ready to erupt.
Splash. Splash.
And then…OMG.

Suddenly, I grabbed D’s arm and gripped it. Hard. I didn’t even have to say a word; he took one look at my face, panicked, slowed to a stop immediately. But it was too late. I lunged onto the door and shoved my head out the window. In my weakened state, I didn’t have enough lung power to projectile vomit a polite few inches away from the car. So it all slid down the outside of D’s car door in waves, as it gushed out of me. Wow. I hoped the stomach bile/hard cider upchuck wouldn’t take the paint off his car.

 

 

The next morning, I couldn’t tell which was worse, my loudly pounding head or my gut-churning nausea. I have never been drunk or hung over before. I prayed for death, but it would not come.
Damn it.
I dragged myself over to Hot Lips Pizza across the street, and forced foccacia bread down my throat, in an attempt to soak up the excess stomach acid (my brother said I’d feel better). I got it all down, and spent several minutes breathing slowly, focusing steadily, using all of my willpower to keep it down. I took some painkillers for my throbbing head, and waited for the food and chemicals to save me.

 

Never ever again. Oh man, I really think that cider fermented in my stomach overnight and I woke up with a belly full of vinegar. I had plans with D and G later that day. I felt slightly better in a few hours and headed over. G greeted me at the door and couldn’t get the damn shit-eating grin off his face. He and D probably laughed their asses off as they hosed the vomit. I mean, I managed to hold it just long enough to puke on the OUTSIDE of his car, instead of ruining his upholstery! Where’s the gratitude? Come to think of it, where’s the sympathy?? Aren’t they supposed to be my FRIENDS??

D came out of the kitchen with a huge smile, carrying a pitcher and a large glass.
“Cider, anyone?”

 

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All pics taken by Alexandria Julaton, except for Star Trek screenshot

Distilled Discovery: Long Table Distillery

It was a crisp spring morning in downtown Vancouver BC, perfect for another day of exploring. The overcast sky was getting brighter as the day was slowly warming up. Even better – it wasn’t raining.

Google maps showed a marina just a 10-minute walk away. On the map’s aerial view, I saw a ferry that took people across from the pier to Granville Island – VBC’s version of Seattle’s Pike Place Market. Today’s adventure was a ferry ride to Granville Island, and whatever was waiting to be discovered along the way!

The Discovery

Several hours later, I had a bag full of gourmet, artisan yummies, and headed back through the upscale waterfront neighborhood and flowering cherry trees. Suddenly, across the street, the clouds parted, the sun exploded and sweet melodies started playing in my head as I realized what was right in front of me!

The Distillery

Vancouver BC’s first microdistillery was tucked away from the downtown core, looking politely inconspicuous on the outside. It was 3 pm, and customers were already celebrating handcrafted gins and other fine spirits in “a place where kindred spirits meet.” I sat at a corner table, which gave me a view of the whole room.

Bottom photo of distillery, courtesy of their website

The microdistillery equipment was in a large space, just to the other side of a glass wall, behind the bartender. I’m guessing the place was named after the long, beautifully-stained raw wood community table at the center of the room.

I waited for customers to leave so I could get this shot of the table

I noticed customers would occasionally walk back in from the fish and chips truck out front, bringing deep-fried delicious badness to enjoy with their craft cocktails. A Rubix Cube was placed in front of the order pick-up window, to distract you from the windchill while you wait.

The wall next to me was covered with framed articles and accolades about the new distillery. One article mentioned that it was a trip to Portland, Oregon, with its multiple distilleries within and just outside city limits, that inspired co-founder and master distiller, Charles Tremewen, to open Vancouver BC’s first microdistillery. He came over to say hello, and to chat with my server. That’s him in the picture, on the right.

The Gins

I had gotten there in time to order from their happy hour menu, and went straight to the Gimlet. One had the option to have the cocktail made with their Texada Vodka, instead of gin; I asked Colin, my gin experience guide and server, if “Texada” was a wordplay on Texas and Florida. Nope.

Their Texada Stoned Vodka was filtered and mineralized with Canada’s own Texada Island limestone, resulting in a “soft, almost oily, mouthfeel.” Lemongrass was added afterwards for a light touch of citrus. Interesting, but…nah! I’m sure they make a fine vodka, but I’m a GIN lover at a GIN distillery, here to try their premium-quality GINS.

The bourbon barrel-aged gin, listed under the Anathema Devise and Wallach IX cocktails, caught my eye. I knew that with a whiskey, about 60% of its flavor comes from the barrel it was aged in.

But gin aged in bourbon barrels? Bourbon on top of botanicals? Huh!

I ordered a shot. It was sublime, smooth, aromatic and deep. Completely wonderful! I could bliss out with this, listening to some downtempo and ambient house, while looking out at the VBC skyline.

Excited, I put down my shot glass and looked for my next cocktail – Musashi’s Blade, with cucumber-infused gin, sake, vermouth, etc. Colin said the sake smoothed out the gin’s “edges”. My inside voice said, “But isn’t that what the vermouth does already?” Confused, I decided to trust, and ordered it anyway.

I took a sip and frowned. Hm. Here’s the thing.

The Do-Over

Their Musashi’s Blade cocktail recipe called for Nigori Sake, milky white due to its rice sediment. While appropriate when enjoyed on its own, this sake’s creamy richness and sweetness more than smoothed out the cucumber gin’s edges – it overpowered the gin altogether.

I apologized to Colin for the change of heart, and asked if I could have the cucumber gin as a martini instead of in a cocktail, which I should have done in the first place. I wanted to really taste the gin itself, and the sake was interfering with that. He smiled and said I shouldn’t apologize; when a customer says they want to taste and enjoy more of the product itself, that’s a very good thing. The cucumber gin was quite enjoyable – light, fresh and elegant!

Where to Get Them

Now that I’ve whet your appetite for some new, amazing Canada gins, here’s the catch: Along with their other award-winning spirits, Long Table Distillery’s gins can only be purchased onsite, at select stores in Canada, or online in the UK.

When I’m back in town, this place will definitely be on my list of must-visits.

Cheers!

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Photos of ferry and Granville Island Market by JE Alexandria Julaton

Long Table Distillery room, courtesy of their website http://longtabledistillery.com/

Various quotes from the distillery’s website and articles

Cognac: A Warm Beautiful (Cocktail) Memory

It was a bright summer morning in Victoria. I was sipping coffee in the balcony, and watching planes skim over the water. A text from my brothers said we were meeting later today, after their afternoon of selfies and shopping.

Until then, I decided to go exploring on my own. A five-minute walk later, I was at the Inner Harbour, wandering in and out of alleys along Government Street. I briefly checked out some trendy bars and cheery pubs, making mental notes of which ones I’ll visit later.

 

After lunch at Trounce Alley, I ended up chatting with a sous chef from Montreal on his smoke break. He gave me his card and suggested, with his heavy French accent, that we have dinner at his place some evening. “I cook for you, we have some wine and…”, he let the sentence trail off with a nodding smile and a crook of his brow. I kept the card.

Just then. one of my brother s texted me that he was cocktailing at a bar in Chinatown. He invited me to join him if I was nearby, before meeting up and dining with family in a couple of hours. Past the fruit stands and tea house, I found Fan Tan Alley, which looked almost too narrow for two people to walk through, shoulder to shoulder. I took my time exploring the tiny shops, fragrant with burning incense. It was summer, warm and perfect. And I had no intention of rushing anywhere.

I found the bar just a block and a half away. My brother wasn’t seated at the counter, where I expected him to be. I saw through a glass partition that he was sitting at a table, staring at a huge oil painting taking up half the wall directly in front of him.

I wish I knew the name of the artist who did this painting

He was completely absorbed by that gorgeous painting of what appeared to be a sort of … costume party? He could barely look away, even as he spoke or took pictures of it with his phone. More interesting to me was the cocktail my brother was sipping. He called it the Warm Beautiful.

The Warm Beautiful

The Beautiful is a delicious, potent and citrusy cocktail made of cognac and Grand Marnier orange liqeur. He preferred it topped with a lemon zest. Having worked part-time as a bartender while in medical school, he knew that cognac’s flavor and aroma deepened when warmed. Cognac lovers would often just cradle the snifter in the palm of their hand, warming the cognac with their body’s heat.

However, my brother wanted something a bit more imaginative.

The cocktail was served in a snifter. He then asked for a “heater”, a small glass half-filled with hot water. He placed the snifter on top of the hot water. As he waited for the cognac cocktail to reach the proper temperature, he would rotate the snifter now and again, still gazing in awe at the absurd yet fascinating painting across from us.

Age of the cognacs

According to the Bureau National Interprofessionnel du Cognac (BNIC), there are three official classifications of cognac, depending on how long the cognac had been stored in casks:
VS (very special) – At least two years
VSOP (very superior old pale) – At least four years
XO (extra old) – At least ten years

Other classifications have also been used by producers when the cognac had been stored beyond official age scales, such as Extra and Hors d’age (beyond age), which can be as much as 100 years old.

“Rules” of enjoyment

Cognac connoisseurs have very strong feelings about cognacs being used in cocktails. One forbes.com article mentioned that, whereas it is acceptable to use a young VS or VSOP cognac as part of a cocktail mix, it is considered a tragedy to do so with an exceptional-tasting, wallet-busting XO or older cognac. Those can cost hundreds or thousands of dollars per bottle.

My brother’s Warm Beautiful cocktail was created using Hennessey VS, but a Courvoisier VSOP could have also been used. On the other hand, Remy Martin’s $3,000-a-bottle Louis XVIII, which is very popular in China (along with all the other premium cognacs), is an example of one that should be showcased as a solo act.

All drinking aside (for the moment), younger cognacs should also be used for flambe, marinades, sauces, chocolates and fruit preserves.

And if you’re in the mood to immerse yourself in all things cognac, the French town this liquid luxury was named after hosts the annual La Fete du Cognac , where you can party for three days with cognac cocktails, crowds, cuisine and concerts.

Cheers!

The Beautiful cocktail recipe

1 oz Hennessey or Courvoisier VS/VSOP cognac
1 oz Grand Marnier orange liqueur

Add both ingredients into a brandy snifter, mix and serve. Optional: Top off with a lemon zest, the way my brother and I like it.

Enjoy!

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All photos of Victoria BC, Canada by Alexandria Julaton
Remy Martin shop photo by Weng lei – Imaginechina/AP
Still shot of Cognac Festival, courtesy of La Fete du Cognac
Vieux Carre image from liquor.com

Cocktails: How to fail at picking up ladies, and the fabulous flavored cube

There are so many wrong ways to meet women.

On our way to a cocktail adventure downtown, my gal pal and I added a few more to that list. Here’s one: A dark-colored car with tinted windows pulling up alongside us. Then an unseen driver slowly lowering his driver-side window to reveal a hand, palm up, and fingers beckoning in a “Bitches, come here.” gesture.
Nope.

Here’s another: A guy stopping his car on the corner at a green light, angry drivers honking behind him, while he’s shouting lame come-ons at us with a huge, naughty grin on his face.
Really big nope!

Yeah, nope again. But kudos for originality!

Maybe?
I mean, what woman could resist a suave, fashion-forward icon like Austin Powers, am I right?

After that obstacle course of weirdness, we made it to the bar and grabbed seats in front of the bartender. We like to watch the magic happen.

The Single Knight cocktail at Luc Lac’s bar was a game-changing, Whoa!-inducing twist on the Old Fashioned cocktail that made our tastebuds do a double-take. First, a large cube made of deeply smokey Lapsang Souchong tea was placed in the glass. This was followed with their sigh-inducing blend of bourbon, pho syrup, and angostura orange bitters. But wait, there’s more! The finishing touch was a lemon twist, wrapped around a blowtorched bourbon cherry and cloves! Daaaamn!

When I order cocktails that arrive with a large, slow-melting cube, I usually leave it alone for a couple of minutes before I take a sip. This is so a little of the ice will melt into the mix and make it less syrupy. One sip of the Single Knight and MIND BLOWN! The smokiness from the melting tea cube adding to the bourbon, further flavored by zest with burnt cherry and cloves – I was caught up in a swirl of amazingness.

Citrus with burnt fruit and spice was all kinds of nice (especially in a bourbon), but that giant cube made of smokey Lapsang Souchong tea made me realize flavored ice cubes that bring out another flavor dimension in cocktails is a thing!

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Single Knight Cocktail at the Luc Lac bar

I wish I had the recipe for this cocktail. However, I do have the ingredients list:

Four Roses single barrel bourbon
Pho syrup
Angostura orange bitters
Lapsang Souchong tea ice cube
Bourbon cherry
Cloves
Lemon zest

 

 

Soul Rejuvenation: Life Has More Flavor with Friends

I was getting ready to tuck into my favorite chair with a cocktail (well, maybe two) within reaching distance. It’s nice to have these quiet moments to yourself, a bit of meditation and Zen in one’s hectic life.

However, one can have too much soul-searching solitude, and start to feel cut off from the outside world. So I texted one of my girlfriends, and we checked out a new-to-us bar downtown.

The Paymaster Lounge in NW Portland successfully pulled off the “we’ve been your favorite neighborhood bar for years” feel, with edge-y posters, comfy pleather lounge seats and turned-down lights, but was still too clean and new-ish to be truly dive-y. And there was no duct tape on the pleather. In our reckless booze-infused wanderings, we came across their vending machine, filled with a nice selection of lip gloss, condoms, fangs, old movies, and packets containing info on finding your spirit animal.

We made our way to the patio, where we enjoyed our cocktails and ordered from a menu with an impressive array of tater tots options. For the rest of the evening, it was all about boyfriends, family, fashion, DIY beauty treatments, trips we wanted to take, etc.  The hours flew.

 

In case you were wondering, no I couldn’t resist finding my spirit animal in a vending machine.  It’s a wolf. And I’m not as evil as I fear, according to the message inside.

 

When I look back at my life, I want memories of adventures and mayhem I shared with friends, not just the sacrifices to my time and life I made so I could work more and harder for my career, until one day I woke up old and alone.

For me, friends (and cocktails!) are good for the body and the soul. Friends not only help us feel like we’re not alone in our struggles, but they also enrich the greater, more meaningful portions of our existence, a.k.a. having a life.

Now get out there, call a friend, and share a cocktail moment with them. Cheers!