The Fleet's In!

What does the over-saturated American spirits market need? Navy Strength Gin, of course. 

No, seriously, we do. Bartenders have been asking for this quintessentially British, overproof product for years. Drinkers, too, like me. But if you wanted it, you had to smuggle in a bottle of Plymouth. No longer. New York Distilling Company's Perry's Tot is already here. And Plymouth and Hayman's versions will be here by the end of summer. (Also, I've been informed, there is a Colorado-produced navy strength gin available. But it's sold only in some western and southern states.)

Here's my New York Times Diner's Journal story:

Gin Ahoy! A Navy-Strength Fleet Arrives

By ROBERT SIMONSON

As this year marks the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812, perhaps its appropriate that it be the annum when America becomes awash in navy strength gin.

As the name hints, navy strength gin is a powerfully alcoholic expression of the juniper-informed spirit, typically clocking in at 57 percent alcohol by volume. (Regular London dry style gin typically ranges between 40 percent and 45 percent.) Beginning in the early 19th century, it was supplied to the British Royal Navy by distillers such asPlymouth. The declared reason for the high alcohol content was that that was the proof level at which the ship’s gunpowder could still be fired should it accidentally get soaked with booze.

Today’s mixologists aren’t so worried about their gunpowder. They do, however love overproof spirits, leading for a call in recent years for navy strength gin to breach America’s shores. That cry has been answered in triplicate. By the end of 2012, three versions of the hearty gin will be available. The first out of the gate is, in a twist, an American product: Perry’s Tot, released last December by the New York Distilling Company, of Brooklyn. Royal Dock Gin, made by the same British company that produces Hayman’s Old Tom Gin, is expected to arrive in April. And Plymouth, arguably the most famous of the navy strength gins, is set for a late summer launch.

Allen Katz, one of the founders of New York Distilling, remembers his first sip of navy strength. “My first introduction was a trip to Plymouth about six years ago. I was familiar with the name but not its history. I thought, for 57 percent alcohol, this is very drinkable. I remember the pleasantness of the spiciness.”

Both Plymouth and Royal Dock claim a long history with wetting the whistles of the British admiralty. However, official ties with the Royal Navy ended shortly after World War II. For a time afterward, Plymouth would provide “commissioning kits” to new ships. According to Simon Ford, director of trade outreach and brand education at Pernod Ricard USA (Pernod owns Plymouth), the kits “were a wooden chest that held gin, tonic and bitters.

“There were glasses, a ‘glug glug jug,’ used for mixing the drinks, and a pennant that the captain would fly to let visitors know they could join for drinks.”

“If they started commissioning new ships,” Mr. Ford added, “we would probably make commissioning kits for them again.”

Three Gins, Three Martinis

How much progress the gin revolution has made with the public is arguable (outside of the usual cocktail dens, I haven't seen an uptick in the number of people ordering gin Martinis), but it has certainly changed the way American micro-distillers do business. In the past, to release one gin was something unusual. Today, young distilleries release two or three at a time. In late 2010, New York Distilling Company made its debut on the liquor store shelves with two new gins. A few months early, St. George Spirits of California bested them by simultaneously introducing three new gins.  

All three look the same until you notice the small, lightly tinted, defining adjective that rests about the word Gin on each bottle. One says "Botanivore," another "Dry Rye" and the last "Terrior." With each, we are dealing with a different mix of botanicals and, in one case, a different grain. The Dry Rye is easiest to get a handle on. It is pot-distilled with a rye base, and what you expect from rye whiskey you get a bit of in this rye gin. 

The Botanicore Gin is infused with a whopping 18 botanicals, including caraway, ginger, California bay laurel, wild fennel, dill, celery seed, coriander. None of the gins shy away from the traditional juniper-heavy profile of the spirit, but this one has the heaviest juniper note. Finally, the Terroir Gin, as you might guess from the name, draws all its botanicals from the immediate, northern California area, including hand-harvested juniper berries, Douglas fir (from Mt. Tam), coastal sage, fennel, California bay laurel, cinnamon, cardamom and lemon. The inclusion of the bay laurel reminded me of the state's No. 209 gin, which has experimented with this herb in the past. 

I am, by now, fairly skeptical of so-called New Western Gins. Too many of them adopt flavor distinctions that make no sense, playing with unusual botanicals, and eschewing the traditional juniper, seemingly just for the sake of standing out. You end up with an unbalanced gin that does not serve a Martini or Gin & Tonic well, and thus renders itself a useless oddity. (No, I do not endorse the notion of a "sipping gin.")

Still, I have found a few likable North American gins over the years. I inaugurated the three new St. George gins by making Martinis with them on successive nights. I found each made a sufficiently pleasing drink. The Botanicore came closest to a classic Martini profile. The Dry Rye, unsurprisingly, instilled the cocktail with a hotter, spicier flavor. 

I was pleasantly surprised to find that I preferred the Terroir Gin Martini, which I expected to be the most peculiar, the best. It's not a typical Martini by any means; those pine notes come through strongly. But its unique personality comes out in attractive ways. It made for a perfect Winter Martini, if such a thing can be said to exist. 

Plymouth Gin Get New/Old Look

In recent years, I grew to love a Plymouth gin that looked like this, all tall, sleek and Art Deco. 

But come this spring, the Plymouth found on your liquor store shelves will look like the bottles below. The redesign is really a return to the centuries-old brand's roots. The Are Deco look was introduced only five years ago, in 2006. The original Plymouth bottles and labels once looked very much as the new specimens do. 

Rest assured, the stuff inside will remain the same.

It's a Bar, It's a Distillery

From the NY Times. The Perry's Tot Navy Strength Gin makes a good, if dangerous, Gin & Tonic:

A Brooklyn Distillery Lets You Order a Drink

By Robert Simonson

Spaces next to distilleries where you can sample liquor are not unusual. They’re called tasting rooms. Spaces where you can enjoy a mixed drink made with that liquor, or other spirits not produced at that distillery — now, that’s unusual.

In early December, Allen Katz and Tom Potter, the founders of the New York Distilling Company in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, opened the Shanty, a tavern under the same roof as the distillery. Sitting at the bar, in fact, you can gaze through a large plate-glass window onto the 1,000-liter, German-made still that produces the company’s two new products, Dorothy Parker American Gin and Perry’s Tot Navy Strength Gin.

Mr. Katz, who is director of mixology and spirits education at Southern Wine and Spirits and a familiar figure in the spirits and cocktail world, said the saloon was long in planning. “A tasting room is lovely,” he said. “It’s useful and a nice retail setting.”

But the company is not using it for retail. “We want to support local retailers,” Mr. Katz said. “We want people to come here and say, ‘Hey, where can we get your gins?’ We’ll give you a list of stores. You cannot buy the gin here.”

The Shanty has a separate entry on Richardson Street, around the corner from the distillery’s official Leonard Street address. Its bar is as well-stocked as any in Brooklyn and, while drinks featuring the distillery’s two gins are amply featured on the menu, you can order any cocktail or spirit you wish without shame.

The distillery has a special farm distiller’s license from New York State that allows it to run a bar — granted because 100 percent of the grains used for its rye whiskey will come from New York farmers. “I can’t open a bar across the street,” Mr. Katz said. “I can’t open a bar in another borough. I can open a bar in the same bonded facility that is our licensed distillery.”

Putting in a shift or two at the Shanty are some of the best bartenders in Brooklyn, including Brad Farran (of Clover Club), Katie Stipe (Vandaag,Frankies 570) and the head barman, Nate Dumas (formerly of Prime Meats). Mr. Katz himself tends bar twice a week.

Mr. Dumas was a natural choice to head the anomalous bar. “He’s a one-of-a-kind person, in that he is an extraordinary barman, but has also spent a year in Scotland going through the Heriot-Watt University brewing and distilling program,” Mr. Katz said. “It was a no-brainer to have him be the head bartender but work on both sides of the wall. He’s got some wonderful contributions in mind.”

The distillery has already bought a year’s worth of rye from the New York farmers it has contracted with, and plans to start distilling it in a month’s time. But don’t expect that rye whiskey to grace the bar anytime soon; unlike other boutique distillers, Mr. Katz and Mr. Potter are not going to rush out a lightly aged liquor, but intend to wait until it is at least three years old. In the meantime, the Shanty will provide a financial cushion for that waiting game. “The bar, I hope, will mean revenue that we can invest in rye whiskey production,” Mr. Katz said.

There will, however, be one rye product out as early as next year. The distillery plans to release a rock and rye, a once-popular American liqueur that mixes whiskey and rock candy with other flavorings. The two gins, meanwhile, are now available only in New York State.

New Bombay Gin Product Puts Asian Twist on Botanical Mix

We still don't know the name of the new Bombay Sapphire Gin product, which is to be unveiled in July in three test markets (including New York), but the botanical recipe was been revealed. 

Joining the 10-botantical recipe found in regular Bombay Sapphire will be Thai lemongrass and Vietnamese black peppercorn, according to a company spokesman. The original ten ingredients are Spanish almonds, grains of paradise, lemon peel, licorice, juniper, orris root, coriander, cassia bark, and cubeb berries.

Like Bombay Sapphire, which was launched in 1987, and is one of the first premium gins to hit the market, the botanicals for the new liqour will not be steeped in the spirit. Rather, the distilled alcohol vapors are passed through a mesh basket containing the botanicals in order to catch the flavor and aroma.

The use of Asian botanicals is not a new idea. Beefeater 24, a line extension that was introduced in late 2008, features Chinese green and Japanese sencha teas.

Breuckelen Distilling Company Starts Selling Booze Early; Plans Winter Gin

Last we checked in with Sunset Park's Breuckelen Distilling, they were set to roll out their new gin—the first gin made in Brooklyn since Prohibition—on Aug. 1. But a quick call by distiller Brad Estabrooke to the state liquor authority—in which he discovered he was good to go, as far as the state was concerned—resulted in the bottles going out a few days earlier that expected. One liquor store in Long Island already has the stuff, and NYC shops Thirst Wine Merchants, UVA Wine and Spirits and Dry Dock will be carrying it soon.

Bombay Sapphire to Release New Gin Expression in Late 2010

Bombay Sapphire, the ubiquitous, blue-bottled, and wildly successful offshoot of Bombay Gin, will have a brother by the end of the year.

The Bacardi-distributed product will see its line extended by one in late 2010/early 2011 with a new brand featuring additional botanicals, as well as those found in regular Sapphire. The move follows rival Beefeater's recent efforts to expand its expressions, releasing both Beefeater 24 and Beefeater Summer in the past two years.

Bombay Sapphire was launched in 1987, and was one of the first premium gins to hit the market. It has long since outpaced in sales the original Bombay Gin—which, I'm convinced, many people don't even know exists anymore.  The flavouring of Sapphire comes from a recipe of ten botanicals: almond, lemon peel, liquorice, juniper berries, orris root, angelica, coriander, cassia, cubeb, and grains of paradise. Unlike the distillation methods of other, more traditional gins, the botanicals are not steeped in the spirit. Rather, the spirit is triple distilled and the alcohol vapours are passed through a mesh basket containing the ten botanicals in order to catch the flavour and aroma. The result is a lighter—and, to critics, more vodka-like—gin.

The new bottling—which is, at yet, unnamed—will add a few ingredients to the regular botanical mix. What they are has not been revealed, but the result it touted to be a "crisp, vibrant flavor." Price will be about the same as standard Sapphire.

Beefeater Summer to Be Followed by Beefeater Winter

Desmond Payne, the master distiller at Beefeater, is not done yet.

Payne, who has in the last two years added to the London gin's line by creating Beefeater 24 (tea notes) and Beefeater Summer (hibiscus and elderflower notes), is working on Beefeater Winter.

Like Summer, Beefeater Winter will be a limited release targeted at a certain time of year. It will build on the classic Beefeater botanical recipe by adding West Indian cinnamon, Indonesian nutmeg and Scotch forest pine.

The Summer, meanwhile, has proved such a hit that it's no longer being sold just in the U.S. market, as was the original plan.  I also learned that, while Beefeater Summer will return each year, the botanical recipe will change. So, if you like the way it tastes, better stock up now. Come fall, it's gone.

Kosher for Passover Gin

What is permissible to drink at a Passover seder is terribly important to me. Having a Jewish wife, I am assured of attending two seders every year, and something is needed to get one through those four-to-five-hour ceremonies. 

I don't think I alone in my desperation. Otherwise, why would people be inventing things like Kosher for Passover gin? Obviously, there's a call for such a product. And No. 209 gin out of California was the first to answer it. The new gin bows this year. I wrote about it for Tasting Table:

A More Spiritual Spirit

The drinking options at the seder table keep getting better and better.

In the dark ages, the only option was sticky-sweet Manischewitz. Then a quality revolution gripped the wine world, and the seder's ceremonial cups became less of a trial and more of a pleasure.

Now, thanks to Distillery No. 209's new Passover-friendly gin, spirits lovers have something to celebrate.

To make kosher gin a reality, master distiller Arne Hillesland replaced No. 209's usual base spirit with a sugarcane vodka from a kosher-for-Passover distillery in South Africa.

Hillesland further altered his recipe by replacing cardamom (a no-no for Passover, since the herb comes in a pod) with California bay leaf, which has a strong menthol flavor. The resulting gin is similar to the standard 209, but the kosher version has a slightly sharper flavor and more viscous mouthfeel.

The costly process of making a kosher alternative--which includes hiring a mashgiach (a kosher supervisor) to oversee production--raises the price to $39 a bottle, about $4 more than the regular No. 209. But so far people have been willing to pay the premium: Hillesland says sales have been brisk.

So this year, have a martini (or one of these cocktails) with your matzo brei. Just remember to mix it with kosher-for-Passover vermouth--yes, it does exist.

—Robert Simonson

No. 209's usual base is corn-derived.

To ensure that the California Bay Leaf Hillesland used in the gin was kosher, and wasn't touched by any suspect machinery, the distiller actually picked the leaves from the trees himself.

The Kosher-for-Passover No. 209 will only be available in New York, New Jersey and California this year. Hillesland made 800 cases. He thinks they'll sell.

Beefeater Releases a "Summer" Gin

Beefeater is on a line-extending jag.

Just a year and a half after launching the tea-tinted Beefeater 24, the venerable old London dry gin firm is back with yet another new product.

Called Beefeater Summer, the recipe—like the 24—hews pretty close to Beefeater's classic botanical mix, but adds three ingredients: elderflower, hibiscus and black currant. The official launch will be in June.

"I wouldn't dare change [the original] recipe and it's not my job to do that," chief distiller Desmond Payne told a recent gathering. "On the back of the success of Beefeater 24, we looked at a seasonal variation. We've bottled it weaker: it's 80 proof. It's quite aimed at the consumer." 

There are limited release whiskeys all over the place. Seasonal gins? Well, why not. 

The Aughts in Cocktails

Confronted regularly with so many new cocktail creations, as I have been over the past few years, I've often fell to musing, "Which of these libations are for the ages?" It's easy enough to decide if something is a good-tasting cocktail or not; that can be ascertained on the spot. But that doesn't necessarily equal staying power. Are we currently sipping, unknowingly, what will be considered by future generations to be our Martini, our Manhattan, our great contribution to the bar?

I had the opportunity to dwell on this matter in a very public way recently, writing a list of lasting libations for the Dec. 30 edition of the New York Times. Some of the entries—Audrey Saunders' Gin-Gin Mule, Don Lee's Benton's Old Fashioned, Phil Ward's Oaxaca Old Fashioned—were easy choices. I had long regarded them as modern classics which will have their place in coming histories of 21st-century drinking, not only because they are great drink in and of themselves, but because the embodied and/or kicked off significant mixology trends. Others I had originally thought to included—Salvatore Calabrese's Breakfast Martini and Julio Barmejo's Tommy's Margarita—I was forced to nix when I discovered from their authors that they were, in fact, created in the '90s, not the '00s. To back up my conclusions, I consulted with a couple dozen cocktails authorities on the East and West Coasts, as well as London.

Here's the article:

A Decade of Invention, and Reinvention

By ROBERT SIMONSON

WHEN you hoist a leg over a barstool these days, you’re as likely to find Tom Edison as a Tom Collins. Light bulbs have been popping up behind the bar, with more cocktails developed in the last 10 years than probably any decade since Prohibition. Some of them have emerged as modern classics, standing out not only as culinary creations, but also as signposts of the decade’s most significant mixology trends.

GIN-GIN MULE This Audrey Saunders invention is often the first thing that cocktail pros mention when asked about new classics. “Bartenders all over the world tend to know the Gin-Gin Mule,” said Gary Regan, author of several cocktail books, including the recent “Bartender’s Gin Compendium.” Ms. Saunders — a leading light in darkened bars — created it before founding her SoHo bar, Pegu Club. Essentially a gin-based version of the ginger-minty Moscow Mule — one of the few vodka cocktails still granted respect by the avant-garde — the drink was a symbol both of the cocktail crowd’s enthusiastic reclamation of gin and its curled-lip repudiation of vodka. (Gin is also the base of Ms. Sauders’s Earl Grey MarTEAni, an early and influential example of the tea-infusion trend.) By decade’s end, the Gin-Gin Mule could be found on cocktail menus across the country — as could gin.

BENTON’S OLD-FASHIONED Don Lee, formerly of PDT in the East Village, credits Eben Freeman, the mad-scientist mixologist of the recently demised Tailor, with opening his eyes to “fat washing” liquor. But it was this instantly cultish concoction, which infuses bourbon with Allan Benton’s Tennessee bacon, that revved up interest in that technique, which melds flesh and firewater. Created by Mr. Lee in 2007 at PDT, it perhaps best epitomizes the advent of savory cocktails, which draw herbs, spices and vegetables, including chilies, into the world within the glass.

OAXACA OLD-FASHIONED Tequila didn’t play much of a role in the early years of the cocktail renaissance. And mezcal, tequila’s rough-hewn relation, had none at all. Both are used instead of bourbon or rye in this south-of-the-border twist on the Old-Fashioned, with terroir-specific agave syrup instead of sugar. Invented in 2007 by the tequila specialist Philip Ward at Death & Co. in the East Village, this drink quickly appeared on menus across the country and became a harbinger of the Mexican spirits’ ascendancy. It’s now just one of many tequila- and mezcal-based drinks at Mr. Ward’s bar Mayahuel.

RED HOOK COCKTAIL Rye whiskey roared back in the last decade after decades in eclipse. With it came new homages to pre-Prohibition rye-based cocktails like the Manhattan and the Brooklyn. This mix of rye, sweet vermouth and maraschino liqueur, created by the former Milk & Honey bartender Enzo Errico, inspired at least a dozen more sub-riffs by other ardent cocktail classicists, with almost all the drinks named after Brooklyn neighborhoods, including the Greenpoint (which uses Chartreuse), the Cobble Hill (Amaro Montenegro and cucumber slices) and the Bensonhurst (maraschino liqueur and Cynar). New spins on the Old-Fashioned (see above) were nearly as common.

ST-GERMAIN COCKTAIL If you didn’t notice that, starting in 2007, St-Germain was in about half of the new drinks you were cradling, you just weren’t paying attention. The elderflower-based elixir with the sui generis floral flavor almost single-handedly invigorated the moribund liqueur category. Suddenly semi-forgotten potions like Drambuie, Cherry Heering and Chartreuse (the current mixer of the moment) were being dusted off and tarted up. And every new liqueur wanted to be as big as St-Germain when it grew up. A list of new St-Germain cocktails could fill a few columns, but the mix of the liqueur, Champagne and sparkling water known as the St-Germain cocktail was perhaps the most common, mixed by high-end watering holes like Bourbon & Branch in San Francisco and the Zig Zag Café in Seattle. Unusually, the recipe came not from a bartender’s brain, but the company’s marketing department. “It doesn’t happen that often that a drink that comes from a manufacturer gets so well received,” said Ann R. Tuennerman, founder of the Tales of the Cocktail convention in New Orleans.

ABSINTHE DRIP When a liquor that has been unavailable for nine decades hits the shelves again, it creates a stir. For many cocktail mavens, absinthe, the Victorians’ embalmer of choice, was the missing piece to so many liquid puzzles. Bottles began reappearing on our shores in 2007, after it was realized that a nearly century-old ban had actually been overturned decades ago. By the end of the Bush administration, absinthe was even being made in America, like St. George from California and Trillium from Oregon. Soon, it was not unusual to find an absinthe water drip at the end of the bar, slowly clouding a glass of the green liquid with dissolved sugar, the classic way to drink absinthe. It would only be old hat if you happened to be Degas.

BARTENDER’S CHOICE Ten years ago, the suggestion that a barkeep name your poison would have been greeted with a withering fisheye. But “Bartender’s Choice” is an option seen on cocktail menus from the Varnish in Los Angeles to the Violet Hour in Chicago to any of Sasha Petraske’s joints in New York. Bartenders nationwide have raised their level of skill and scholarship. Customers have followed them with an increased sense of adventure and a willingness to swallow whatever they dish up.

Review: Malted Wheat White Whiskey

I figure that headline is enough to get you to read this item.

Wheat whiskey we know. White whiskey is a growing market. But malted wheat white whiskey?

This product, surely unique (for now) in the liquor market, comes from Death's Door, the Wisconsin micro-distillery that already produces a vodka and a gin, and, for my money, it's the best thing they've done.

I encountered it at Bar Celona, the new Spanish-influence cocktail and tapas bar in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where Tad Carducci of Tippling Brothers is in charge of the cocktail program. I had had a couple drinks, and was about to clear out when a colleague recommended I try the Albino Old-Fashioned. Well, "Old Fashioned" are two words (one word?) that always catch my ear. So I stayed and had another. Am I glad I did. It was one of the most original and delicious spins on the old drink I had ever had. It was composed of white whiskey, sugar, bitters, brandied cherries and grapefruit peel, and was as mellow and smooth as a southern California day.

I asked what whiskey was being used and the bartender showed me what appear to a clear bottle, the kind waiters plunk down in trendy bistros as your water decanter. Looking more closely, there were a few words on it, near the bottom, in black. "Death's Door Whiskey." Then, in smaller letters "Made with wheat from Washington Island, Door Country, Wisconsin." To me, the simple bottle is one of the great design triumphs in modern liquor packaging.

My colleague and I thought that this might be the first appearance of the product in a New York bar, but we weren't sure.

Death's Door rolled out the whiskey last year. It's not just another moonshine jumping on the bandwagon. It's an unusual un-aged combination of 20% malted barley and 80% organic hard red winter, all grown grown in Washington Island, which lies in Lake Michigan just off the Door County peninsula in Wisconsin. It sits in stainless steel barrels for three weeks and then oak barrels for 3 days, at which point it’s bottled.

The result has a beguilingly fruity nose of melon, a few vague tropical traces and baked sweet breads. (Not sweetbreads, but sweet breads.) It's strongly flavored, but mellow, as I saw, and soft, with muskmelon, golden raisins, baking spices, apple, maybe some white pepper. It's not hugely deep, but it's hugely appealing. And it has a long finish, a nice companion on a cold night.

I made a Old Fashioned for myself at home using the stuff. It wasn't as good as the one at Bar Celona (I didn't follow their exact specifications), but it was damn good.

While were on the subject of Death's Door, the company has wisely listened to their marketing people and debuted some new bottles. It miles beyond the old, dull, high-shoulder wine bottle with a simple map of Washington Island on the label. Death Door's Brian Ellison tells me I'm the first to see the new bottle, even before the new distributors. Which means you, readers, are the first enthusiasts to eyeball it on the Internet.

Gin & Tonic & Variations

Every new bar has to have a gimmick if it hopes to capture the New York drinking public's fickle attention these days. Bar Celona, a swanky new Spanish tapas lounge in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, has found a good one, and one that makes sense, too, in context.

Do you know what Spaniards love to drink most? No, not sangria. Gin. Spain is Beefeater's biggest outside market. The Spanish suck down Gin & Tonics all year long. Tad Carducci and Paul Tanguay of The Tippling Bros., which designed Bar Celona's drink menu, have capitalized on this national obsession. There is an entire category on the Bar Celona cocktail menu called "G y Ts."

“We translated Bar Celona’s ambitious culinary vision into something equally compelling on the cocktail side,” said Tad Carducci. “We’ve brought together cocktails popular in Spain, as well as totally new drinks using Spanish and Latin ingredients, and have given them a playful and memorable spin.”

Here's the menu:

G y T’s

Murcielago
Beefeater 24, amontillado sherry, lemon, sugar, Q tonic.

Sea Monkey
Plymouth gin, celery/apple juice, lemon, Anise del Mono, Fever Tree tonic water, fennel salt

Tomas el Gato
Hayman’s Old Tom gin, Averna, strawberries, lime BC house tonic.

El Prado
Tanqueray #10, pineapple syrup, mint, Valencia orange, BC house tonic

Salvador’s Watch
Beefeater gin, muddled grapefruit, Pacharan, Bitter Kas

Nice to see them varying the gin from drink to drink. Each has some appeal for me, except maybe the El Prado. (Tanq #10 ain't my thing; too vodka-like.) Nice array of tonic choices, too. I'm refreshed just looking at the list.

Tanqueray Now Also Functions as a Lamp!

Even as the Great Recession rages, elite packaging of prestige spirits continues to veer toward the absurd.

I've seen more elaborate packages that this one, newly designed by Jeremy Scott for the premium gin Tanqueray Ten, but few that have an odder visual effect. Is it just me, or does the box, when opened, make the gin look like a lamp? And the inside pattern of the box rather looks like wallpaper, right? It's a tiny Tanqueray living room.

"The Best Gibson I've Ever Had"

That's the response I've heard twice in one week upon serving different guests that simplest of drinks, the Gibson—or, as it is better known to the world, a Martini with a cocktail onion.

I was a bit taken aback by these laurels. But I had to admit: the Gibsons were damn good, better than any I'd every had in a bar. What made them so perfect? The gin? The vermouth? No, though I did use Plymouth gin and Dolin dry vermouth, so I was working with, arguably, the top ingredients on the market.

What's left, of course, is the onions, the only other ingredient in the drink.

A couple weeks back, I went on one of my periodic home-scientist kicks. Having run out of Luxardo maraschino cherries, and disgusted with the sort of garnishing cherries and onions that could be had in the market, I decided to make my own. Hardly a new idea. Bartenders and home enthusiasts have been making their own maraschino cherries for years now. (Onions, not so much.) I quickly whipped up two different recipes for cherries, one taken from the New York Times (ridiculously simple, but good), one from Sloshed (brandied cherries, really). Both turned out well, and were easy to make.

The onions were another matters. First of all, pearl onions aren't always the easiest thing to find. Second, you have to sit down and peel the tiny skins off every one of those bloody white orbs, which takes a bit of time. Finally, there aren't many recipes for cocktail onions out there, and the one I settled on was hardly what you would call a snap.

It was adapted from "Raising The Bar," the 2004 book by Nick Mautone, former manager of New York's Gotham Bar and Grill, and Gramercy Tavern. It called for 13 ingredients. I might have thrown up my hands right there, but, by some bizarre twist of fate, I actually had every one of the ingredients on hand, including the fresh rosemary, from a pot of the herb that I grow on my windowsill. (Why I had juniper berries in my spice cupboard, I can not tell you. I don't remember ever buying them.) And so I worked away:

1 pound, pearl onions
1/2 cup, sherry vinegar or white vinegar
1/2 cup, cider vinegar
1/2 cup, water
1/2 cup, salt
1/4 cup, sugar
1/2 teaspoon, mustard seed
24 juniper berries
12 peppercorns
6 allspice berries
1 rosemary branch or
1 teaspoon, dried rosemary
1 dried chile pepper
1 cup, dry vermouth

Add all of the remaining ingredients except the vermouth to a medium-size saucepan and bring to a boil. Add the onions to the saucepan, reduce the heat, and simmer for 2 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and allow the onions to cool in the liquid. Stir in the vermouth. Transfer the cooled onions and liquid to a container with a tight-fitting lid. Store in the refrigerator.

This is worth the effort, I promise you. The resultant onions are easily 50 times more flavorful than any you would buy in the store. They possess layers of flavor rarely found in pickled objects of any sort. What's more, the smallest raw pearl onions on the market are still about four times bigger than the largest you will see in store-bought jars. So the influence a single onion has on a Gibson is profound. The garnish genuinely contributes to the character profile of the cocktail. It's not merely a surprise treat you get at the bottle of the glass; its impact is felt from the first sip. Gibsons are no longer all about gin-soaked onions, but also onion-tinged gin. And that's a good thing—trust me.

Beefeater 24 Hits the U.S.

Six long months after I first tasted Desmond Payne's new gin Beefeater 24, I've finally written about it. (Well, for print. I've written about it several times on this site.) Why the wait? Well, because I live in America and it took it that long to get here! Actually, at various points, it was suppose to debut March 1, then April 1. May 1 ended up being the money date.

Here's the piece I wrote about it for Time Out New York, as well as a new Beefeater 24 cocktail recipe provided by Joachin Simo over at Death & Co.

Holy juniper!

Englishman Desmond Payne has done nothing but make gin his entire adult life; first at Plymouth, where he helped resuscitate the reputation of that venerable spirit, and then at Beefeater, where he has been master distiller since 1994. So considering that—after 40 years of closely adhering to other people's botanical recipes—he has finally created a premium gin of his own, attention must be paid. Beefeater 24, which launches stateside this month, is the product of a year and a half of experimentation. An arch-traditionalist, Payne did not veer far from Beefeater's classic cocktail of nine botanicals, created by James Burrough in the 1860s. Payne added only three ingredients to the mix, but that trio makes all the difference. Spanish grapefruit peel complements the spirit's already strong citrus character. However, it's the inclusion of Chinese green and Japanese sencha teas that gives the spirit its distinctive personality, combining two defining English culinary traditions—gin and tea—in one elegantly perfumed product. Beefeater 24 (named for the number of hours the neutral spirit is steeped in the botanicals) makes for a particularly thought-provoking martini, with a noted tannic hit at the beginning and a remarkably long finish. And it adds a welcome new element to the often too-simplistic classic, the gin and tonic. If you're feeling more adventurous, a newly minted libation using the stuff can be found at Death & Company (433 E 6th St between First Ave and Ave A, 212-388-0882), where Joaquin Simo is serving the Kew Gardens Cooler (muddled cucumber, Aperol, grapefruit juice and tea-infused syrup). Only one question remains: Do we do teatime later, or cocktail hour earlier? A 750ml bottle is $30 at most liquor stores.—Robert Simonson

Kew Gardens Cooler
From Joaquin Simo of Death & Company

In a cocktail shaker, lightly muddle two thin cucumber slices. Add:
• 2 ounces Beefeater 24
• 1/2 ounce Aperol
• 3/4 ounces grapefruit juice
1/2 ounce Scarlet Glow syrup*

Shake briefly with 3 ice cubes to chill, then strain over crushed ice in a highball glass. Garnish with a cucumber ribbon (use a vegetable peeler to carve out a thin seedless slice of cucumber, then skewer it with a cocktail pick).

*Scarlet Glow syrup
Heat 1 cup water on the stovetop. Add 1 cup of sugar and stir to dissolve. Bring to a boil, then add 4 to 5 tablespoons of Scarlet Glow tea (hibiscus and elderflower tea made by In Pursuit of Tea). Remove the mixture from the heat and allow it to steep for 45-60 minutes, then strain the syrup into an airtight container and refrigerate. The recipe makes approximately 1 1/2 cups of syrup. It should keep in the refrigerator for 1 1/2 weeks.

The Journalist

It always pissed me off that The Journalist was such a lousy cocktail.

I remember first encountering it three years ago in the pocket recipe book of the Museum of the American cocktail. A cocktail named after my profession? A profession known for tippling? Cool. I gave their recipe a try:

1.5 oz. gin
.25 oz dry vermouth
.25 oz sweet vermouth
2 dashes triple sec
2 dashes lemon juice
1 dash Angostura bitters

I shook it with ice, as instructed, strained it into a cocktail glass and drank. What a disappointment. I winced. I still wince when I make this recipe. It's too acidic, the sweet vermouth and triple sec working too hard to overcome a lot of bitterness. A perfect Martini, basically, gone very imperfect. Bleh.

Last week, I decided to rectify the drink, come up with a variation that tasted better. But first a checked a few other cocktail books to see if there weren't already some variances. I opened Harry McElhone "Barflies and Cocktails" from 1927 to see what he had to say on the subject.

Plenty, it turned out. His Journalist was working with the same six ingredients, but his proportions were quite different:

1/3 gin
1/6 French vermouth
1/6 Italian vermouth
2 dashes Curacao
2 dashes lemon juice
1 dash Angostura bitters

Instead of the ratio of the gin to the combined vermouths being 3 to 1, it was 1 to 1. Very different, particularly concerning the additional sweet vermouth. This was a much better drink, more enjoyable. Sweeter, yes, but infinitely more balanced.

I'm still not satisfied with the cocktail called The Journalist. I want to love this cocktail, not just like it. But McElhone's recipe is certainly an improvement over the Museum piece.

The Recession-Proof Bar

I put together this article for Time Out on how to best keep your home bar well-stocked without stinting on quality.

In the bag

A shrinking liquor budget doesn’t mean you have to drink rotgut at home. Stock your bar without emptying your wallet.

By Robert Simonson

RYE
When it comes to brown booze, single-malt Scotch and bourbon top the list in prestige and popularity. But they are also tops in price. Solution? Try rye, the world’s neglected whiskey. Though rye has recently enjoyed a resurgence, time-honored, quality brands like Old Overholt and Rittenhouse can still be had for under $20 a bottle. Either one makes a classic Manhattan.

BOURBON
For Southern-fried Kentucky Derby lovers who must have their precious bourbon, there’s a world beyond Maker’s Mark. An undersung industry standard like Elijah Craig can be found for around $20 a bottle. The even less celebrated but equally fine W.L. Weller Special Reserve is yours for roughly $17.

GIN
It’s vodka’s world; we just live in it. But there’s both a monetary and gastronomic reward in eschewing high-price boutique vodkas for entry-level gins. The basic offerings from Beefeater, Tanqueray and Bombay (not Sapphire!) are benchmark examples of London dry gin, and run only $18 to $25 for the 750-milliliter bottle. So save money and have a real martini for once.

RUM
If it’s a daiquiri you want, opt for Flor de Caña Extra Dry, a four-year-aged Nicaraguan white rum that puts Bacardi to shame in the flavor department. The floral, fruity rum is a mixologist favorite (it’s the well rum at Death & Company), and it sets you back only $16.

BRANDY
For the budget-conscious, French brandy is basically out of the question. But New Jersey apple brandy is well within your means. (Don’t laugh.) The bonded version of Laird’s applejack is lauded by spirits geeks as liquid gold. (The regular Laird’s is dreck.) And it costs only about $21.

VODKA
If you absolutely demand that your tipple be odorless and tasteless, how about giving the costly Ketel One and Grey Goose a pass in favor of the obscure Belgian brand White Nights? (Only $13 a bottle!) Sobieski, a Polish vodka made from rye, is an even better value: $11 a bottle. Believe me: You and your Cosmo will hardly know the difference.

AND MORE!
Hard times call for experimentation. So turn your attention to intoxicants you used to ignore, such as Pimm’s No. 1, a tasty, spiced, gin-based British elixir that runs around $20; or palate-stretching Italian amari and digestifs like Cynar, Averna and Aperol (most are under $25). They may strike you as bitter at first, but you’ll soon adjust. Sort of like the current economy, huh?

A Voice From The Colony's Past

Sometimes the way to dig up culinary history is just to get the ball rolling and see who responds.

Recently, I did a small write-up on the Colony Martini, a version of the classic cocktail that was served at the Manhattan Cafe Society watering hole known as The Colony. The Upper East Side boite's heyday was from the 1920s until about 1960, and the Turkish bartender, Marco Hattem, was famous for shaking his gin Martinis with a bit of absinthe.

One imagines that everyone once connected to the Colony is now lying out in Greenwood Cemetery of something. But yesterday, I was contacted by one Max Gabay, who said he was a 15-year-old bar boy at the Colony, working the bar with is mother's cousin, Hattam, after school!

Max gave me some insight into how things were done at the Colony's bar. "The gin we most used at the time I was there was Gilbey's Gin. I used to fill about 50 clear-stemmed Martini glasses, and 50 red-stemmed Manhattan glasses with shaved ice at the start of the busy hour, to have them chilled at each end of the small bar. I also did set-ups for other drinks, but, as a teen, I did not handle any alcohol."

He also confirms that there was, indeed, a small elevator that was used to hide the liquor during Prohibition days.

Fascinating. The shaved ice and chilling of the glasses shows a seriousness in Hattam's preparation of cocktails. But, of course, the indentification of the gin used is the most tantalizing fact Max provides. Gilbey's was an old brand by the time the Colony came into being. It was founded in the 1850s by Walter and Alfred Gilbey, who first established themselves as London wine merchants. They soon after got into the gin business, and established branches in Ireland and France. The company also produced rum, rye and scotch. The name lives on, though the family is no longer involved.

There's an old Gilbey's ad from the 1950s above.

A Trip to the Beefeater Distillery

My world seems to be a gin world lately. I go to Martin Miller's Gin cocktail contests and to Plymouth Gin events. During my recent trip to attend the launch event for the new Beefeater 24 product, I had the opportunity to tour the fabled Beefeater distillery—the only gin distillery still operating within the borders of old London town. (It was founded in 1820.)

Guess how many people it takes to run this place? What do you think? 100? 200?

Seven.

I about fell over when I heard that one.

One of those seven is Beefeater's master distiller Desmond Payne, and it was he conducted the tour.



We met in Payne's splendid little office, when hangs a portrait of Beefeater founder James Burrough, and Payne made many deferential comments of quintessential English self-effacement about how he felt Burrough watching him at all times. There were a number of old Beefeater products on display. Like Heinz 57, which once produced many foodstuffs, but now is only known for ketchup, Beefeater once rolled out a whole line of alcoholic beverages, including Sloe Gin, and aniseed, black current and clove-flavored liquors. None stuck except the London Dry Gin.



Also on display was Beefeater's latest innovation, Beefeater 24. Already part of the family. It's released in the U.S. in March.



Payne took us to a room where visitors can sample the botanicals that go into regular Beefeater. These include: Juniper, Angelica Root, Angelica Seeds, Coriander Seeds, Liquorice, Almonds, Orris Root, Seville Oranges, and Lemon Peel. Also available to touch and smell were the three extra things that go into Beefeater 24: Japanese Sencha tea, Chinese Green teas and Spanish grapefruit peel.



Then it was on to the distillery itself. The incredibly long-necked pot stills were quite a sight to see. Beefeater does something interesting that other ginmakers don't, in that it lets the botanicals steep in the neutral spirit for 24 hours before the distillation process began. I got to stick my head inside one of the stills where the soup of herbs and berries had been soaking for a few hours. It's an intense, fragrant odor one isn't likely to forget soon. It knocks you back a bit. Desmond said he sometimes took the raw, yellowish alcohol inside these still and mixed himself a drink with it.

We then walked into a further room where the distilled spirit is collected. Payne keeps track of every batch, checking it regularly to decided where to cut it off and what parts of the distillate to use. We were able to sniff Beefeater gin collected at 10 AM, 10:30 AM, 11 AM, etc. The differences were remarkable. The first carried mainly the citrus elements. The second was noticeably more mature. Payne said that each botanical comes through at different times in the process.



The the worlds of wine and spirits, there's nothing like seeing how the stuff is actually made at the place where it is made. I came out of the tour feeling I understood Beefeater gin, and gin in general, much better than I had going in.