Byrrh to Return to U.S. Shelves

Byrrh is a French aperitif, a 125-year-old red-wine-based quinquina that thrived in the early 20th century. It was created by two brothers with the poetical names of Pallade and Simon Violet, and initially marketed as a health drink and sold in pharmacies. It's popularity declined after World War II, despite an heavy ad campaign. (It's hard-to-pronounce name couldn't have helped.) In 1961 the business was sold to CDC who made Dubonnet and Cinzano, which was later merged with Cusenier. In 1977 the brand was bought by Pernod.

Byrrh hasn't been seen on the American market for many years. But, as with many another European aperitif and digestif in recent years, it is now on its way back, it's return instigated by the demands of mixologists, the passion of liquor aficianados and the diligence of quixotic importers like Haus Alpenz. That house, run by Eric Seed, is in fact the one brining Byrrh in.

Byrrh is gentle by quinquina standards: fairly sweet, only mildly bitter—it reminds me of Bonal (another Haus Alpenz import) a bit—and has a fuller body than some aperitifs. The red wine used as the base hails from the Languedoc Roussillon—in the past the source of tons of very middling plonk, but lately the home of vintners of fine, affordable and experimental reds. It's generally drunk cold, straight or on the rocks.

The Key to the Appetite Unlocks American Market

I wrote a small item for the October issue of Wine Enthusiast about Bonal Gentiane Quina, another great find from Eric Seed, and a wonderful aperitif (if not quite as wonderful as that other recent Seed aperitif import, Cocchi Americano):

Minnesota-based liquor importer Haus Alpenz's Eric Seed is a master at sleuthing out obscure but great elixirs and bringing them to the attention of the American public. He's the man's who recently improved the U.S.'s vermouth lot ten-fold by shipping in the Dolin line. His latest find in Bonal Gentiane Quina ($25), an French aperitif wine that has been made since 1865. It's treasured overseas, but disappeared from these shores around 1940. Now it's back. A Mistrelle base infused with gentian, cinchona and herbs found in the Grand Chartreuse mountains, Bonal has a dry, bitter, bracing bite that effortlessly unlocks the appetite. Hence it's longtime nickname, "ouvre l'appetit" ("the key to the appetite") and the presence of a long skeleton key on the distinctive yellow label. As with more classic aperitifs—including Haus Alpenz's other excellent recent import, Cocchi Americano, from Italy—it's best appreciated straight, on the rocks or with a twist. Doubtless, that won't dissuade bartenders from tinkering with Bonal. But there's so much complexity in this quaff that it hardly needs added guests to make the party more interesting. 

—Robert Simonson

Black Tot Day, 40 Years On

Every new liquor released these days comes wrapped in a yarn. Black Tot Rum has one of the best around. I've tasted this twice, always in miniscule amounts, of course, given its scarcity and price. It was not what I expected (but, then, what could I expect, having no experience of 40-year-old Navy rum?), but it was singular. Those tiny tastes will have to last me. $1,000 to spare I have not. From the Times:

40 Years After the Royal Navy’s Last Call, Its Rum Is for SaleBy ROBERT SIMONSON

By Robert Simonson

Starting this week, diners at Greenwich Village’s Minetta Tavern can drink like a sailor. But they’ll have to spend like a sailor to do so.

Minetta Tavern recently acquired four bottles of what is being billed as Black Tot Rum. Black Tot Day was the name attached by Royal Navy men to the dark date of July 31, 1970, when British sailors were accorded their final daily “tot,” or ration, of rum. The tradition went back centuries, but was discontinued as it fell out of favor with a more censorious public, as well as the crewmen themselves. Sailors wore black armbands when the sun rose on that last day of on-deck drinking. On the H.M.S. Fife, docked in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, there was a 21-gun salute, according to Wayne Curtis’s history, “And a Bottle of Rum.”

Review: Cocchi Americano

After talking, at the closing night party at the Manhattan Cocktail Classic, with Eric Seed about his latest epicurean liquid import, Cocchi Americano, I decided to pick up a bottle at Astor Wine & Spirits.

It's a very appealing beverage and quickly worms it's way into your summer tastes buds as a cooly refreshing aperitif. Cocchi Americano is a regular quaff in Asti, the great Italian wine center in Piemonte, and most of it is drunk there. It's been made to the same recipe since 1891, and only imported to the U.S. from time to time, and even then in small quantities. The base is Moscato di Asti, which is infused a blend of herbs, fruit, cinchona, gentian and citrus, among other things. It is then laid down for a year before being released.

Many drinkers will be reminded of Lillet Blanc, which it resembles superficially. But Cocchi has an intriguing, bracing bitter edge to it, placing it, in my mind, somewhere between Lillet and dry vermouth. I tried it in the cocktails suggested on the back label, but I think I much prefer it served simply over ice. It's difficult not to grow quietly contented while sipping this stuff. I suspect one bottle will not last me through the summer.