We’ve come across them before: the Blood & Sand, the Last Word, the Cameron’s Kick — drinks that look like a train wreck on paper, but in the glass, have a lot more character than you’d think.

The White Lily isn’t quite in the same class as these three cocktails, but for something that looks nigh-untouchable in print (at least to me), it actually ain’t too bad.

The recipes comes from that old standard, The Savoy Cocktail Book, and hits a couple of unpredictable points for me: first, it successfully combines equal parts rum and gin, which is quite a challenge; second, it matches rum and absinthe, another infrequent pairing.

I first tried the White Lily last month, at the Green Hour event hosted by the Wormwood Society. Gwydion had listed it as a drink he’d like to serve, so I mixed one for myself, just to see what we’d be in for. It’s actually a fairly nice drink; the base spirits are the only drying agents, so the Cointreau places the drink on the sweet side (but not excessively so), and the absinthe serves its seasoning-ingredient role well. This is a case like the Corpse Reviver #2 in which you only want to use the merest dab of absinthe — too much and it easily takes over — but a few drops or a judicious dash and it helps tie everything together. For this version, I used Brugal white rum and Martin Miller’s Gin, which has recently supplanted Bombay as one of my default mixing gins.

White Lily

• 1 ounce gin
• 1 ounce white rum
• 1 ounce Cointreau
• 1 dash absinthe

Combine ingredients in a mixing glass and fill with cracked ice. Stir well and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with orange twist.

This drink is part of 30/30, a series of 30 drinks in 30 days — or as much as I can keep up before collapsing in a weary, booze-addled heap.

Tags: Absinthe, Drinks, Gin, Rum, Thirty in 30 by Paul
5 Comments »

It’s been a while since my last post, regarding an absinthe event that Gwydion Stone and I put together for the Washington State Bartender’s Guild. But even though it’s been silent on my end, I’ve had a lot of activity coming into the site.

Part of this, my self-promotional side must point out, comes from the piece I wrote for the New York Times‘ Proof blog that ran last Friday; please read it if you have the chance. But my last post, regarding absinthe in America, has generated its own bit of traffic, and I thought some of it was worth mentioning.

I love absinthe. I know that some trend-watchers are now claiming it’s jumped the shark, but I could care less — I’m a big fan of that lively anise aroma and flavor, and the elegant herbaceousness of a well-made absinthe. But many people come to absinthe out of curiosity, given its history and now-defunct outlaw reputation. I totally understand that; it’s part of what first attracted me to the spirit, too, but ultimately image isn’t enough to keep a style of spirit alive; it has to have quality and flavor on its side to remain relevant with consumers.

This is something that has troubled me somewhat about absinthe. The initial brands on the market, Lucid and Kubler, are well-made absinthes that, while perhaps not to everyone’s liking, are still good representatives of the absinthe tradition. Over the past almost-two years, though, literally dozens of new absinthes have come onto the U.S. market; some, such as Marteau, are excellent; others, however, are execreble, and most fall somewhere in between. Unfortunately, many of the brands that appeared in 2008 have hovered near the bottom of the pack.

So I’m always on the lookout for a good, new absinthe, so I can boost it here and elsewhere, as well as enjoy it at home. And when I hear a lot about a product from readers who contact me online? Well, then I’d better investigate.

Here’s a relatively recent brand that I’ve received many comments about: Le Tourment Vert. Produced in France and bottled at 100 proof, LTV comes in a visually striking bottle, and can be spotted from across a crowded bar or liquor store — a plus in today’s market. But how does the product taste? Let’s see– (and in the interest of full disclosure, a sample of this product was provided by the product’s PR firm).

The spirit has a bright green color, dissimilar to that of typical verte absinthes; not surprising, considering that classic vertes receive their pale emerald hue from chlorophyll in flavoring and coloring herbs, whereas LTV notes on the label that it contains FD&C Blue and Yellow — a strike against, if you’re searching for an authentic absinthe (though “authentic” can be a squishy notion; back in the day, less-than-ethical producers put coloring agents in absinthe, some of them quite toxic, to make it much the same hue as LTV).

On the nose, LTV is thin and medicinal, with an artificial-mint type of aroma. With water added, the louche is … um … weak; I guess you could generously call it a louche, albeit a very thin and weak one, but it retains that artificial green element from the coloring. Finally, to taste — whereas a classic French verte is typified by an anise-forward aroma and flavor, with other herbs forming a broad vegetal character, the LTV is, as with the aroma, medicinal, with a mint component evocative of Listerine and an awkward chemical bitterness that is almost but not totally unlike that found in classic French absinthes.

I don’t enjoy writing about products I don’t enjoy, but sometimes it has to be done (and to be fair, I’ve also written about other absinthe brands that have failed to get me excited). This is one of those times: Le Tourment Vert isn’t the worst absinthe I’ve had, but it certainly makes the other brands at the bottom of the heap fight for that title. LTV hovers a scant shade above crappy and several points below tolerable; in short, it’s a lousy example of an absinthe, and you’ll typically learn this lesson for the steep price of $60 for a bottle.

So why then have I received so many supporting comments about the brand? Simply put, spam – or “sock puppetry“, or whatever you want to call it. In other words, someone — perhaps the PR firm, perhaps the brand, or perhaps an unknown third party; I really have no idea exactly who it is, nor do I really care — has been roaming the Internet, stuffing the comments areas of drink blogs with feedback along the lines of, and I quote: “LE TOURMENT VERT is absolutely the BEST absinthe I have EVER had. The Green Fairy is back in action!” or, for a recent absinthe-related post I wrote for Serious Eats, “Yeah, I’m not too big of a fan of black licorice, but the absinthe brand Le Tourment Vert that I tried was pretty good!”

Am I just being paranoid? Could be, but fortunately the commenter/s to these posts, despite registering different gmail addresses, almost all used the same IP: 69.198.92.81 (though several comments, also from different e-mail addresses, came from 69.232.44.28; someone must have been working from home that day). Write it off to one overenthusiastic individual with way too much free time, or an aggressive online marketing campaign with little use for professional ethics, either way it stinks.

It may be marketing 101, but using deceptive tools is perhaps the best way to alienate not only bloggers but more mainstream media. It certainly worked in this case. (Though LTV’s miserable quality already sunk it in my book, so this is pretty much just a fresh load of manure on top of the pile. And while Le Tourment Vert’s spam campaign has given me every reason to be mean and spiteful, I’m not just dissing it because of that; this stuff is really bad. My kitchen smells like it now, after I dumped the glass in the sink, and I’ve gotta break out the Bon Ami to get that odor out of there.)

But on the flip side, here’s something that I do appreciate: in an e-mail I received today from a PR firm that represents several major brands, the rep wrote: “I’ve been following your blog for a few months and would love to know how (if at all) you prefer to be pitched by a spirit company.” Hey, imagine that — he asked how I’d like to be pitched, rather than coming on all sweaty and lecherous like ol’ grabby 69.198.92.81. Thanks for asking — here’s how we can work together…..

Tags: Absinthe by Paul
9 Comments »

They don’t make tastebuds like they used to.

Thanks to Dinah over at Bibulo.us, who’s hosting this month’s round of Mixology Monday, I’ve been taking a sentimental stroll through some of the older — and newer (thanks to Mud Puddle Books) — cocktail manuals on my bookshelf, in search of the appropriate 19th century cocktail. And what I’m remembering is what has long delighted me about some of these older recipes: while many of them have relatively simple preparations (oftentimes a drink being little more than a base ingredient gussied up with the bibulous equivalent of a little powder and perfume), the flavors are sometimes spectacularly baroque, created with richly flavored spirits and elaborately crafted herbal liqueurs and aromatized wines.

That brings me back to two of my most favorite ingredients (and the punks at Mixoloseum can just stifle the chortling — yes, I’m going back to these topics again): absinthe and vermouth.

Both of these ingredients debuted in the U.S. in the mid-19th century, and both were welcomed to the mixological arena soon thereafter with a great degree of enthusiasm. Slightly bitter and richly floral, vermouth — we’re talkin’ Italian, or vino, vermouth here, which entered wide use several years before the French, or dry style — performed a mystical whazoo over many cocktails of the era, broadening and lending greater depth to flavors while letting primary spirits remain in the spotlight. And absinthe, with its tantalizing perfume of anise, fennel and mint, brought a gauzy dose of the ethereal to otherwise modest cocktails.

As cocktail ingredients, vermouth is today typically used in small amounts, and absinthe in quantities even smaller, but our ancestors — with their preference for engaging and even gaudy flavors — measured them out with much more gusto. In the 1870s, absinthe and vermouth were both in heavy use, and each had its namesake cocktail: the absinthe cocktail, with the potent spirit touched with bitters, sugar and sometimes anisette; and the vermouth cocktail, with vino vermouth brushed up with sugar, bitters and maraschino. While I’ve written about the absinthe cocktail before, the vermouth cocktail is another recent favorite — use a good vermouth like Carpano Antica Formula, and be sure not to dilute it too much, and it’s actually a pretty lively old girl. Similar recipes are in books ranging from Kappeler’s Modern American Drinks to Harry Johnson’s Bartender’s Manual to, of course, Jerry Thomas (the 1887 version).

Vermouth Cocktail

• 2 ounces sweet vermouth (Carpano Antica or Vya if at all possible)
• 2 dashes maraschino
• 2 dashes Angostura bitters
• 1-2 dashes simple syrup (optional, to taste)

Stir with ice, taking care not to overdilute, and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Hit it with a lemon twist, and garnish with a cherry, if desired.

To my taste, some of the best uses of these ingredients are when they appear together — though such combinations raised warnings early on. In 1886, the Brooklyn Daily Eagle noted, “Vermouth and absinthe are becoming more popular daily, but are dangerous drinks. Many use vermouth with a few drops of absinthe as a nervine, but the treatment, if persisted in, can only result in one way — loss of mental power and extreme nervousness.”

I’m already the nervous type, so I won’t worry too much about combining absinthe and vermouth. As I mentioned recently, while absinthe and vermouth were the St. Germain of their day, showing up in pretty much everything, “The Only William” Schmidt had a particular fondness for mixing the two together (Schmidt even tossed a dash of absinthe into his recipe for the Vermouth Cocktail). I’ve covered the Weeper’s Joy and the Anticipation, both examples of the absinthe / vermouth combo; here are two others that caught my eye, from Schmidt’s 1891 book: the Frappé à la Guillaume, and the Appetizer à l’Italienne.

Frappé à la Guillaume

• 1 ounce absinthe
  
• 2 dashes simple syrup
• 1/2 ounce sweet vermouth
• 2 dashes anisette

Fill glass with crushed ice and frappe until very cold & frost forms out outside of glass. Serve with a straw.

Essentially a typical absinthe frappe with sweet vermouth added, this is absolutely lovely — really, this tastes like the 19th century: deeply elegant, floral and (I’ll say it again) baroque, with the crisp edge of anise brushed into a rich lushness from the vermouth. I used Kubler, because it’s not bad and I had plenty of it on hand; for this, as with any classic drink that calls for absinthe, you’ll need a classic anise-forward spirit; other absinthe-type spirits that don’t have that anise character just aren’t suitable in any cocktail that predates the Internet. As with many other drinks that prominently feature vermouth, I used Carpano Antica Formula, because it just kicks ass. Vya may work as well, and even Cinzano, Noilly Prat sweet or Martini & Rossi would be suitable, but they don’t quite have the gumption of the Carpano or the Vya. Word is that Dolin should start appearing soon; I’ll reserve judgement on that until I’ve had a chance to try it.

But, anyway, the Frappe a la Guillaume: I call it the Frappe a la All Mine. I’m busting this one out again sometime.

Appetizer à l’Italienne

• 2 ounces sweet vermouth
• 1 ounce Fernet Branca
• 1 dash absinthe
• 2 dashes simple syrup

Stir well with ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass.

I took my first sip of this while still in the kitchen, next to the sink — to be perfectly honest, I expected to hate this. Fernet Branca, while a lovely thing on its own, is a surly prick in the mixing glass. It’s usually dispensed in small amounts as with many other bitter ingredients, but in this role it just works. With a base of sweet vermouth, it’s as though the Fernet doesn’t feel the need to compete: it can spread out in all its eucalyptus-tinged glory, without bumping into another alpha-dog ingredient. The absinthe is in no way prominent — I mean, with an ounce of Fernet Branca in there, how could it be? — but it lends that indecipherable seasoning quality, making the drink much richer and fuller than it would be without it. If you’ve got a bottle of Fernet kicking around and you’re trying to figure out what to do with it, here’s a good choice.

Anyway, that’s it for MxMo 19th century; head on over to Dinah’s to see what else is up.

Tags: Absinthe, Drinks, Mixology Monday, Vermouth by Paul
4 Comments »

While I was working up my presentation for the “Cocktails With a Kick: Absinthe Returns to America” session at Tales of the Cocktail, I embarked on an extended search through old bar guides in search of attractive — and repulsive — cocktails of yore that featured the old savage green stuff. Starting sometime in the 1870s or thereabouts, absinthe started cropping up in a number of different cocktails, ranging from simple preparations such as the Absinthe Frappe or Absinthe Cocktail, to its use as a seasoning ingredient in innumerable drinks such as our old friend the Sazerac.

All was to be expected until I started digging deeper into the drinks of William Schmidt. (This photo-of-a-photo of Schmidt was taken at the Museum of the American Cocktail, and was kindly provided by Dinah Sanders.) A famed bartender close to Jerry Thomas’ era, “The Only William” penned a number of distinctive drink recipes that called for absinthe in The Flowing Bowl: When and What to Drink, first published in 1891 (you can purchase a 2007 reprint version here). As I worked through the recipes, I noticed a pattern: many of the drinks followed a similar structure, pairing absinthe with “vino vermouth,” or Italian vermouth in assorted proportions, then completing the recipe with Ingredient X (with the occasional modifier of sugar or bitters added). This ingredient could be just about anything: Calisaya bitters, Fernet Branca, Old Tom gin, creme de roses, green Chartreuse, kummel — you name it, pretty much. Some versions, such as the kummel-laden Weeper’s Joy, are pretty damn tasty; others, such as The Mayor, which includes kummel, cream and a whole egg, seem much weirder.

Here’s one that works. For the last year or so, I’ve been a sucker for sherry in cocktails, and one of my favorite warm-weather drinks this summer has been the Sherry Cobbler (which I’ve somehow neglected to blog about, along with about 6,870 other things). The Anticipation matches sherry with vino vermouth, then incorporates absinthe in just a dash, with a little sugar to make it all appealing.

For my version, I used Carpano Antica Formula vermouth, which has a strong flavor particularly well-suited to cocktails that need a robust vermouthy zoom and a gentle bitterness. I also used Hidalgo Amontillado for the sherry, thinking that its dry, delicate richness would pair well with the vermouth; I’m willing to wager a nice Oloroso would also work wonderfully, whereas a Manzanilla or Fino could give the drink a nice crispness. Plenty of room to explore.

And explore I will: I really enjoyed the Anticipation; the nuttiness of the sherry nestled right into the sweet/bitter balance of the vermouth, and the absinthe served as seasoning: lending the aroma a gentle anise note, and functioning on the palate as a flavor enhancer without taking over the drink. Flavorful, aromatic and resolutely old school, the Anticipation also clocks in a bit lower on the alcohol scale — an oddity in the absinthe cocktail world, but a welcome diversion for times when you’re looking for a gentle nip, or for those late evenings when you’re not ready to leave the bar but don’t need another wallop of alcohol.

Anticipation

• 1 1/2 ounces sherry
• 1 1/2 ounces sweet vermouth
• 2 dashes simple syrup
• 1 dash absinthe

Stir well with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

Tags: Absinthe, Drinks, Vermouth by Paul
2 Comments »

Two years ago, I attended Tales of the Cocktail and was delighted to sit in on a session that, due to its subject matter–absinthe–carried a touch of danger and intrigue.

Last year, I attended Tales of the Cocktail and, in addition to a reprise of the absinthe session, I was served a drink or two made with Lucid, at that time the only legal absinthe on the market. I also attended an absinthe dinner at a restaurant where we were seated in a private dining room, shielded from the view of other diners partially because we had our own setup of fountain and absinthes, all of which were still on the prohibited list.

This year, absinthe is everywhere; the flood I’d anticipated last fall while writing a feature on the spirit for Imbibe (it’s here, as a PDF) has come even larger than I’d expected. In the months to come we’ll see some of the most spectacular absinthes I’ve ever tried come onto the US market, along with, it should be said, massive amounts of crap.

To help you wade through this steaming pile to find the pony on the other side, on Friday, July 18, I’ll be co-moderating a session at this year’s Tales of the Cocktail titled “Cocktails with a Kick: Absinthe Returns to America.” Joining me as co-moderator will be my good friend Gwydion Stone, founder of the Wormwood Society and producer of Marteau; and the uber-talented Jim Meehan, bar manager at PDT in New York.

With Gwydion picking up the story of absinthe and Jim talking about the ways he and his colleagues are mixing it today, I’ve got a big job ahead of me. Fortunately, I love absinthe, and I love absinthe cocktails, so it’s been a pleasure to dig into the vintage bar books in my collection to find the most interesting and most unusual cocktails in creation. It’s also been fascinating for me to dig through old books and news archives to find references to absinthe, both the ways bartenders were serving it, and the ways it was portrayed in stories and tracts.

I won’t go into detail here — that’s what the presentation is for, after all — but if you’re in New Orleans for Tales, be sure to join us at the Hotel Monteleone on Friday, July 18, at 12:30pm for “Cocktails With a Kick”. Plus, we’re serving lots of good booze, so that should be extra encouragement; you can buy tickets here, and I hope to see you there.

hentai teacher rapes student - anime monster rape hentai. you tube rape video incest rape videos. rape movie scenes free fantasy rape movies. free incest videos downloads: brother sister incest videos.

Tags: Absinthe, Events by Paul
7 Comments »