Tale of a Cocktail Fail

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A rooftop lounge with firepit (yes, please!) just opened downtown. Photos on Yelp showed stylish modern decor and design; industrial mixed with sophisticated lighting, etc. My gal pal was coming a little later, after a wardrobe change and shower to freshen up, post-scuba diving lesson. Walked over to the elevators for a ride to the lounge, where I was greeted and pre-screened by their concierge. Weird.

 

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First things I noticed when I got there were hammered metal and stone that turned the front room wall into an interesting Game of Thrones-y art piece. Hundreds of glass tubes on the ceiling slowly changed colors. Had to walk past the bar, of course. Huge selection, impressive and familiar brands, clean …check!

 

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Table next to the window, few feet away from the outdoor seating area and firepit, double-check! Happy hour just started, so plenty of seating options for now.

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With my gal pal on her way, I decided to order a cocktail. I would usually order a classic cocktail, or even a classic cocktail with a creative twist, but tonight I thought I’d try something new, in keeping with the theme – new hotel, new rooftop bar, new cocktail.

Also, I normally don’t do vegetables in my cocktails, mainly because it just sounded like a really bad idea. But I decided to go against my better judgment, be a little adventurous. And the vegetable for this maiden voyage would be…the beet.

 

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I love beets. Boiled, sliced and served on salads…but in a COCKTAIL?

I’m guessing that as part of the farm-to-table movement, bartenders have been using natural, organic ingredients for years to add interesting colors and flavors to their cocktails. Valid. I’ve also heard of beet juice being used for color. But as a FLAVOR? I was skeptical, but not close-minded.

The cocktail that arrived was gorgeous! I stared at the amazing deep red color, and held the martini glass up in the air.  I took pictures when the glass tubes above me turned blue, and uploaded to Instagram.

 

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And then I tasted it.
I wish I could have seen the WTF?? look on my face just then when I reached for the cocktail menu in horror, panic and confusion. That….flavor…was the beet GREENS that had been blended and strained. In an attempt to balance out the earthy muskiness of the shrub’s flavor, they added bittersweet and citrusy Gentian liqueur, plus some Aquavit, for a touch of black licorice. Then throw in some vodka and a lemon squeeze.

The result – smoked dirt and licorice with a citrus twist.

What were they thinking? Was this cocktail actually bartender-tested and approved?

Vegetables are officially banned from my cocktails.

 


But if you want a really GOOD, summery refreshing cocktail…

After a day spent exploring shops in Gastown, I hiked over to the Asian food Mecca on Robson Street. I wandered into a beautiful restaurant with delicious smells and a quirky banana leaf motif, opened their cocktail menu, and there it was: the Bourbon Smash.

For those of you who love bourbons and whiskeys (like me), the bourbon smash is a mix of bold (bourbon) and fresh flavors (mint and lemon), harmoniously mingled and completely enjoyed!

Cheers!

 



Bourbon Smash

Courtesy of foodnetwork 

3/4 ounce simple syrup
8 fresh mint leaves, plus 1 sprig, for garnish
3 lemon wedges
2 ounces bourbon

Put the simple syrup, mint leaves and lemon wedges into a cocktail shaker and muddle them until the lemons are broken down. Add the bourbon and fill the shaker with ice; using a long cocktail spoon, stir vigorously until very cold.

Fill a rocks glass with ice and use a fine strainer to strain the drink into the glass. Put the mint sprig in the palm of one hand and gently smack it with the fingers of your other hand (this releases the oils and fragrance). Garnish the drink with the sprig and serve.

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Distilled Discovery: The Liberty Distillery

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It was late morning when I walked out into a perfect Spring day – rainless, sunny and cool enough to wander aimlessly for hours. I took the Aquabus ferry across from dowtown Vancouver BC to Granville Island, with its sensory-overload foodie paradise markets, art galleries and curiosity shops – one of my favorite places on earth. I usually go before the crowds arrive, so I could get to my treats fairly quickly.

 

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After loading up on gourmet treats, I wandered beyond the markets. Beneath the bridge on Johnston Street, I saw the sign for The Liberty Distillery, creator and purveyor of fine liquid spirits – mainly vodka, gin and whiskey – since 2010. I opened the door for a peek, and was pulled inside by a loud, friendly Scottish accent and a good-looking barkeep.

 

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Not being Happy Hour yet, there were a few people inside. I chatted up the bartender about Scottish and Irish history for a bit,

From the bar’s seating area, I could see the handmade copper stills and other equipment where their liquor is distilled and fermented onsite. According to their website:

The Liberty Distillery chose CARL, Germany’s oldest distillery fabricator to custom design our stills because of their rich 140-year family tradition and uncompromising dedication to aesthetics, design, innovation, and patented ‘aroma plates’ in the rectification columns.

 

 

Eventually, I decided to taste two of their gins: Endeavour Gin and Endeavour Old Tom.

Their Endeavour  Gin was created in the London Dry style, boldly fragranced and flavored by a blend of 10 botanicals, including juniper and citrus. Instead of a smooth finish, this gin had a bite. Definitely a gin to have as a martini, with vermouth to tame its spicy personality.

 

Endeavour-gins

 

The bartender told me about a gin’s Navy strength, a term that came from the days when hard liquor was transported by Navy ships. In case any of the liquor leaked or spilled out of the barrels during transport, the warship’s gunpowder had to be able to still ignite even after being soaked in it.

But being stored in barrels has a price, due to its porousness. Some evaporation occurs during the aging process, about 2%. All that wonderful liquor rising up to the heavens has been called the “angel’s share”.

 

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The Endeavour Old Tom was a different story. This gin was stored in French Oak barrels for several months, during which it gained both its deepened flavors and interesting mahogany color. I held the shot glass up to my nose; fragrant and heady. The flavors that came with each sip were complex and many – more fruit-ish than fruity, like a pastry would be, but balanced and smooth. On top of that, the oak added that extra level of sublime and deep character.

Waves of blissful joy. As a whiskey and bourbon lover, this was my kind of gin!

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There were bottles on the showcase shelf that looked like they held something liquid in a very pretty shade of pink. They were the Endeavour Pink Gin. Yes, PINK gin! Of course, I had to have a shot!

 

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The Endeavour Pink was a “limited release” gin, due to its seasonal main ingredient – wild rosehips. The berries, combined with the juniper base, resulted in a fresh, flowery fragrance enjoyed by my palate and nose.

Like a booze-y kiss from a rose.

And the pale, beautiful pink hue added to the whole experience. Sadly, at $45.99/bottle, plus sin tax, this was destined to become a recurring memory instead of a repeat experience. Ouch!

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I’m looking forward to coming back for these creative, expertly crafted gins on my next trip to Granville Island. But next time, when I’m not tipsy from gin shots, I’ll definitely give their cocktails a try.

 

Pics of Endeavour Gin bottles courtesy of the Liberty Distillery website.
All other photos by Alexandria Julaton.

 

Cocktail Backstory: The Communist and Tom Collins

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

 

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“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.”

 

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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.”

 

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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.

 

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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

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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

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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!

 

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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.

 

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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.

 

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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.

 

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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.

 

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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.

 

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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?

 

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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.

 

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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.