A Beer At...Playwright Celtic Pub

This place grew on me. It has the right attitude, toward its patrons, toward itself, toward its neighborhood. It makes you feel welcome, and helps you forget midtown and the tourists outside.

A Beer At...Playwright Celtic Pub

Hal, of General Flooring (according to his shirt), is shit-faced. Those whopping pint glasses in front of him are filled with not just with Coke, but also Jack Daniel's. And by the looks of it, he's had six. Yet he reaches for Jimmy's bottle and tops off his glass with it. "Whaddaya doin'?" protests Jimmy. "Giving it a little bite," says Hal with a lopsided smile. Jimmy's drinking a non-alcoholic Buckler's, of course, but whatever. At this point, who cares?

The Relentless 21st Century

Shafer Vineyards released its first vintage of Relentless, its Napa Valley Syrah blend, in 1999. This week, for the first time, father and son John and Doug Shafer lined up every vintage through 2007—plus barrel samples of 2008 and 2009—to see how the wine ages.

Turns out they age quite well. Not a big surprise, given the amount of alcohol, tannin and fruit we're dealing with here. Relentless ranges from 14.8% to 15.5% alcohol, and 20% of this unusual blend is the never-petite Petite Sirah. Shafer doesn't make dainty wines.

Relentless is made to age from 10 to 15 years, but is also advertised as drinkable upon release. But based on this tasting, the next time I get my hands on a bottle, I'm going to lay it down and wait ten years. My favorite wines were the unmistakably the 1999 and, especially, the 2000. The huge flavors of dark fruit had receded, and secondary flavors of tar, twig and tobacco came to the fore, and balance the palate out. Furthermore, the nose had opened and released wonderful scents of sagebrush and cooked fruit. The noses on the younger wines were still quite closed. Age also seemed to bring the wines together. The looser assemblage of tannin, juicy fruit and acidity found in the recent vintages wove into a harmonious blend. The big tannins never receded, but they integrated themselves. The 2000, a bit tight at first, just got better as it received more time and air.

Doug Shafer also liked the 2005, which was indeed drinking well. It was full (they were all full) and ripe, with notes of tobacco among the cherry, plum, prune and such. It will likely go a long way.

Relentless ages for 26-30 months in French oak, and then eight months in bottle. It's all new barrels now, but in the past there were some older casks. Much of the Syrah and Petite Sirah are co-fermented.

The Relentless wines are remarkably consistent, just as all Shafer wines are. From 2007 to 1999, there were differences from vintage to vintage, but it was always recognizably the same savory wine taking a long, slow journey into maturity.

New Bombay Gin Product Out in May 2011; Bacardi Also Bringing New Vodka and Cognac to U.S.

Few of my recent posts are clicked on as often as the one announcing that Bombay Sapphire is planning to release a new expression of its gin soon. That big, blue, category juggernaut is one popular elixir.

So far, no word on what the new product will be called. But the launch has been pushed back to May 2011. So be patient, gin blossoms.

There's other news from Bombay's parent company, Barcardi, however. Recently, the liquor corporation announced the launch of Bacardi Reserva Limitada in the U.S. It's described as a "premium rum originally created for the Bacardi family." It was first made available to the public in 2003 to celebrate the opening of the visitors center at our distillery in Puerto Rico. Until now, the only place you could get it was at the distillery and at a handful of fine spirit shops the Cayman Islands, Bahamas and Aruba.

Reserva Limitada is made of the various Barcardi rums rested in lightly-charred American white oak barrels for between 10 and 16 years. Costs about $100.

Also, in January 2011 Barcardi is bringing Eristoff Vodka. Unknown here, it is called the top-selling vodka in France, Portugal and Austria—three very-different countries. It originates from Georgia and was first created for Prince Eristoff in 1806. The last members of the Eristoff family were Prince Nicolai Alexandrovich Eristoff, who died in 1970, and his sister, Olga, who died in 1991. Neither had children, making Eristoff's Barcardi's baby solely.

Barcardi is also planning to introduce Otard Cognac in the U.S., possibly within the next 6-12 months. It's already here, but hard to find. Not a great time for Cognac right now, so this is a brave move on Bacardi's part.

Mad Men and Drinking, Season Four, Finale: Meet the New Don, Same as the Old Don

Season Four didn't conclude with a smashingly eventful episode the way Season Three did—where the Sterling Cooper troupe pulled off an "Ocean's Eleven" caper to pull the agency out from under the nose of the devouring, traitorous British. Instead, Matthew Weiner delivered another quietly excellent chapter in a season that has had many of them.

And it did contain one "surprise": Don got engaged, and not to the person you expected. But any astute viewer of the show saw that one coming. Jesus, Dr. Faye Miller herself—Don's main squeeze throughout the season—called it in episode two when she said Don was the "type" who got remarried soon after getting divorced.

Also, anyone who saw the way little Sally ran from Dr. Faye and into the arms of maternal, and beautiful secretary Megan, could guess which lady Draper would choose in the end. Though it went sour for him with Betty, Don still believes in the American dream he sells to consumers—the beautiful, docile, supportive wive and family, who don't question Dad too much, and certainly don't know his real identity and horrible secret. Faye was an attractive, competent, modern woman, a perfect match for Don in many ways, mainly intellectually. But she was no good with children, proudly didn't cook, and knew he was really Dick Whitman. Don grew and matured a lot this season, but not enough to see in Faye his life mate. He's still half living a lie. And I think even Draper knows he's probably backpedeled a bit in proposing to Megan without giving her the whole scoop on his fraught back story. Note that he begins the episode in the dark with Faye, and ends it in the dark with Megan, looking searchingly out the window. He's a lost man. Perhaps permanently.

Since "The Summer Man," where Don started to swim and cut back on the booze, "Mad Men" has been noticeably less centered on liquor. That One Drink Too Many has not forced many (or any) plot points in recent episodes. Faye drank little, maybe some wine. Megan doesn't seem to drink at all. Roger still hits the vodka and gin more than anyone in the office, but he's a creature of habit. Nothing new in his repertoire.

Hilariously, there was a pitcher of Bloody Marys on the table at Don and Pete's meeting with the American Cancer Society. I guess they don't care about liver disease or anything like that. Just cancer. Megan and her friend go to the Whiskey a Go Go during a trip to L.A., when she babysits Don's kids (and nets a marriage proposal). Betty's hubby Henry drinks a bottle of Ballantine while packing boxes and fighting with poor, sad, mad Bets. And Don drinks a Miller Hi-Life while in bed in L.A. First time that popular beer has been seen on the show.

There was, however, the very smart use of a bottle of Don's trusty Canadian Club in the last five minutes, where Don unexpectedly meets ex-wife Betty in the cleared out kitchen of their Ossining home. Betty has finally decided to move out (mainly to get Sally away from creepy neighborhood kid Glen). Don has come by to show the house to a perspective buyer. When informed that the movers have not done a very thorough job on the place, he knowingly reaches into the back of a high cupboard and finds an unopened bottle of CC. He pours some into a coffee cup, and shares it with Betty as he breaks the news of his engagement.

It's a tender scene—they don't fight—and an apt one. So much of the Draper marriage centered on drink. Don drank a lot, and Betty picked up the habit. Who knows how much shorter, and more bitter, their union might have been if they didn't have that eternal buzz to lean on. At the end of the scene, they both leave the kitchen, going separate ways, leaving nothing but the cup and the bottle on the table.

The Work of Stan Jones, 1970s Bar Master

Where there any mixologists of note during the 1970s? Bartenders worth remembering, or revering, during that darkest of dark decades in cocktail history? I thought not. Until I picked up the new fall menu at Clover Club and noticed a section of drinks entitled "The Work of Stan Jones." Who?

Stan Jones was a bartender out in California in the 1970s who, despite the relative lack of interest in the cocktail art back then, managed to get a big tome called "Jones' Complete Bar Guide" published in 1977. The bartender at Clover produced a dog-eared copy of the doorstop. Its a huge thing, the size of an atlas, with a bright orange dustjacket. Stan's there on the back in a big, black and white photo, with permed hair, moustache, glasses, and a hundred-mile stare, looking like a zombie as he pours a drink.

The book is intense. There are in-depth chapters on every spirit, and about 4,000 drink recipes, both ancient and the kind of libations that only saw popularity in the days is Disco. Jones was obviously very serious about his craft, though I did notice that his ideas about some of the classics were a little skewed.

Clover Club is featuring three of Jones' original. One, called the Great Secret, is basically a spin on a Vesper. I ordered the more interesting-sounding Snoopy—one, because of the oh-so-'70s names; two, because of the intriguing array of ingredients: Bourbon, Orange Liqueur, Galliano, Campari, and lemon juice. The drink's not bad. It's on the sweet side and on the red side, with not a whole lot of depth. But the Bourbon and the Campari give it enough of an edge, and its very easy going down. Very of its time, I should think, but not undignified.

The Sipping News

Here's a promotion I can get behind. Astor Wine & Spirits, to celebrate the rescue of the miners in Chile, is offering 15% off Chilean wines Oct. 13.

Burger & Barrel, a new pub in SoHo, will feature Red Hook Winery wines on tap. [Eater]

David Wondrich talks punch. [NYT]

Great Beaujolais producer Marcel Lapierre died Oct. 10 at age 60. [NYT]

Smith & Vine, the Carroll Gardens wine shop, has doubled its space. [Pardon Me for Asking]

V-Note, a new "vegan wine bar," opened on the Upper East Side. [Grub Street]

Ice Harvesting in TriBeCa

The cocktail world's obsession with ice just took a big step forward. Soon, no bar owner will be able to hold his head up if not equipped with their own ice works.

Here's an item I wrote on the new Weather Up in Tribeca for the Times' Diner's Journal:

TriBeCa Bar Will Have Its Own Iceworks

By ROBERT SIMONSON

Weather Up, Kathryn Weatherup’s latest eponymously named cocktail bar — set to open at 159 Duane Street in TriBeCa in early November — is one saloon that will never have to send out for ice.

“We’re going to be the first bar on the East Coast of the United States that is doing in-house ice harvesting and production,” said partner Richard Boccato. Whether that’s precisely true or not, as any cocktail aficionado knows, ice — its purity, its size, its shape — is of paramount importance to the modern mixologist. The ice-works will be in the basement, but chunks of the cold stuff will be on display through the bar, cut into pieces by “bandsaw, chainsaw, chisels, hammers, and other torture devices,” as Mr. Boccato put it.

The ice machine is called the Clinebell CB300X2 Carving Block Ice Maker, and costs $6,000. According to Mr. Boccato, it produces two 300-pound blocks of crystal clear ice every three to four days through a slow-freezing cycle. A pump mounted inside the machine’s cabinets circulates the water, thus preventing impurities from freezing into the block, and as well as the formation of troublesome oxygen bubbles and striations which make carving difficult.

“Essentially this ice freezes in the same fashion as natural ice freezes in a lake — from the bottom up,” Mr. Boccato said. “Once the cycle is finished, excess water and impurities are removed from the top of the block prior to harvesting by use of a common wet and dry vacuum. The blocks are then broken down to suit our needs.”

The ice will come in handy chilling the daily selection of oysters and caviar. “It’s basically the best way to put salt in your body,” said Matthew Maddy, another partner in the venture, and one of the founders of No. 7 in Fort Greene. (For the more prosaically hungry, there will be French fries.) Ms. Weatherup and Mr. Maddy founded the original Weather Up (pictured), in Prospect Heights, in 2008. At the time, it was one of the first high-end cocktail joints to brave the Brooklyn scene. Both the Brooklyn and Manhattan bars will share the same vaulted ceiling of white ceramic tiles.

“Because this is a bigger, more complicated project,” said Mr. Maddy, “we wanted to bring in some friends and family.” That includes Tyler Kord, the chef at No. 7; and Mr. Boccato, an owner of Dutch Kills in Long Island City and a fierce proponent of the kind of classic pre-Prohibition cocktails the TriBeCa Weatherup will serve.

The bar will open daily at 3 p.m., offering six to eight draft lines, a selection of wines and an array of martinis and manhattans — what Mr. Boccato calls a “warm-up” cocktail list, made to accompany the oysters. Other cocktails will be available as the day wears on.