Whiskey Soaked Words
I’m terrible at Vodka drinks. It sounds elitist, snobbish, and very hipster bartender of me but it’s a fact of life. I think the problem is twofold. 1) Stylistically, I gravitate towards stirred, booze forward drinks that include some sort of odd characteristic. I go through phases: stirred citrus, clarified everything, fruit infused sherries, etc. I essentially want to turn … Continue reading Drinking Poetic: The Panic Order
The Los Angeles Cocktail is terrible and is a perfect example of a bad drink that survives because it’s old. Buried within the pages of the Savoy Cocktail book, one of the quintessential drink tomes of the Golden and Modern cocktail age, is a drink that reads like a New Yorker describing their “totally real” visit to … Continue reading Drinking Poetic (on a Wednesday): The Los Angeles Sour
With all the excitement, food, and celebrations that are crammed into the space between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day you can be excused for not noticing that noted scoundrel and always bartender Jeffrey Morgenthaler managed to squeeze a completely new holiday in there: December 5th, Repeal Day. Repeal Day is the Hallmark Card Holiday of … Continue reading Whiskey Wednesday: Repeal Day
“I prefer things the Old Fashioned Way!” said every generation ever as things changed around them. The Old Fashioned is my favorite cocktail. It appeals to me on such a deeply intellectual level that it rivals the psychic imprint that Lord of the Rings had on me in the third grade. And the imprint this … Continue reading Drinking Poetic: The Old Fashioned
I feel a certain kinship with Hemingway. I’d like to think it’ because we both have an affinity and words but there’s no denying that the legend of Hemingway has been at least as influential as the man himself. And just like the man himself the truth is always more complicated. Hemingway was, like most … Continue reading Drinking Poetic: The Hemingway Daquiri
I’m sentimental in my head. I say head because I’m less emotionally sentimental and more intellectually sentimental, meaning that I hold on to things because I feel like I’m supposed to. This often means I find myself with collections of stuff that sometimes seem to stick around simply because it’s already stuck around. Enter The … Continue reading Drinking Poetic: West of Brooklyn
I’m a whiskey purist. Bourbon, Scotch, Japanese, Barrel Strength, it doesn’t matter, I drink it neat. For years I was determined that not even a drop of water would come between myself and my sweet, sweet barrel aged nectar. What’s changed me? The highball. The highball is nothing new. It’s a simple class of … Continue reading Drinking Poetic (on a Wednesday): Highballs
