Gin-Soaked Blog

Cellaring Ale: Weyerbacher Blasphemy 1 Year Later

So TK cracked the Blasphemy from last year.  1 year of cellar aging brought the original alcoholic heat back to the forefront.  This ABV in this beer, which started at 11.5% has to be around 18% at this point. A few sips made my face warm. The main note is still butterscotch but there is a slight oaken bitterness on the finish.  This is not unwelcome because it balances what could be a cloying sweetness. I am looking forward to enjoying more of this six pack.

Cellaring Ale

With the popularity of lager macro-brews in this country (and yes, the rest of the US of A is still drinking Miller Light) many think beer, like milk, goes bad if you don't drink it up right away.  While this is true of lagers, ales, like wine potentially benefit from being stored in a temperature-controlled environment for quite a while.

Case in point (pardon the pun)--for my birthday this year, my cousin, sharing my enthusiasm for beer, bought me a few treats.  By far the most exciting was a 1-year aged Troegs Mad Elf.  Now, I am a fan of of the Elf straight out of the barrel, but I was not sure what to expect of a slightly more matured version.  Time treated the Elf with dignity and respect.  He went into the cellar with a high cinnamon nose, a punch of nutmeg and red cherries; he came out a smooth caramel.  What the Elf lost in intensity, he gained in complexity and texture. 

Another pleasant surprise was the Weyerbacher Blasphemy (their Quad aged in whiskey barrels, sadly discontinued). While it was really boozy and hot when we first tasted it, six months did amazing things.  The heavy alcohol receded into the background, replaced by a smooth butterscotch not dissimilar to Scaldis Noel.  TK and I were fighting over the last bottle.  Let's see what happens to the other six pack in another six months!

Hendrick's Martini

I think most people who have spent any time at all with a bottle have a particular spiritual nemesis (mine is bourbon, which makes me weep like a baby).  But for some reason, gin has this notoriaty of turning Dr. Jekylls everywhere into drunk, venom-spewing Mr. Hydes.  I heard this theory the other night while bartending, that the culprit is a sensitivity to juniper berries, which seems plausible. In its unripened form, the juniper berry is hard and green which lends the tannic bitterness to both the gin and its drinker.

Then there's the seedy side of gin--the roaring twenties with luscious egg-white thickened cocktails. Of course these fancy cocktails came into existence because of the foul taste of nefariously produced 'bathtub gin.' Trust me, no one wants an extra-dry martini with soap scum floating at the top.

But we no longer have to resort to the bathtub as distillery, we can leave it to the professionals.  Hendrick's, for instance, makes a gin so deliciously pure and clear that you are never in danger of choking on a stray pube.  Infused with cucumbers and rose petals, this gin with nothing added has that classic herbaceous quality characteristic of a high end spirit.  It doesn't drag your palate through the herb garden as does Herbsaint or Absinthe, but it is luscious and green. It may be a bit frilly for the Tanq drinkers out there, but it is worth straying for those with an adventurous spirit.

Best of all, Hendrick's requires nothing at all to balance or mask its flavor. Skip the vermouth and serve straight up, extra chilled and garnished with cucumbers (rose petals if you want to be extra fancy).

Top Five Christmas Beers

Tis the season for beers jam packed with clove, cherry, allspice, caramel, cinnamon and other sweetness. That is, christmas beers. Thriving in popularity for the past ten years, Christmas beers are available from domestic craft brewers such as Troegs as well as the Belgians. Both Delerium and LaChouffe make spiffy spicy ales perfect for polyanna gifts or sipping in front of an open fire with roasted chestnuts and the Vince Giraldi trio on the IPod.

What takes some of the Christmas cheer out of Christmas beer is a is a sacharine linger or too much spice with nothing to balance it. I don't want my mincemeat pie in a glass, thank you very much.  That said, jamming hops in an ale dominated by clove and nutmeg is just plain weird.  It's like drinking a glass of orange juice after you brush your teeth.

Here are some merry little brews that really do it for me.

#1 Scaldis Noel.  Weighing in at a beastly 13% ABV, you don't want to drink more than one of these.  Like liquified caramel with a dry finish, the Scaldis goes a long way towards warming your tummy on a blistery night.

#2 Mad Elf, Troegs
#3 Nice Chouffe, Brasserie dAchouffe
#4 Corsendonk Christmas, Brouwerij Corsendonk
#5 Hibernation Ale, Great Divide

Summer Cocktails: The Yellow Sapphire ala Morimoto

Morimoto restaurant in Philadelphia has garnered fame thanks to its Iron Chef Morimoto Masaharu who is best known for being the third to win Japan's flaying and splaying competition. The restaurant, in typical Stephen Starr fashion is ultra-high concept with its wavy walls and glowing tables which slowly change colors during your meal.  Eating at Morimoto is like dining inside a submarine cruise-ship that took a detour to Frogstar World B.

Fortunately the fish aren't happily offering themselves up to be eaten by patrons of Morimoto (because that would just be creepy), but they are ALMOST that fresh. We got ourselves the octopus carpaccio and edamame to start and the mid-level chef's sushi platter as the main dish.

The question of what to drink with sushi is usually answered with a heartfelt "SAKI!!!!" But there was something about the gently throbbing lights and the glowing dildo centerpieces that made me want a martini.

Maria had an appropriately neon-green colored midori mimosa with the sexy name "MC2" but I rocked it Prohibition-era style with a "Yellow Sapphire," a cucumber-infused, Smirnoff Citron-Twisted gin martini.

It was pretty tasty and definitely a good drink for a hot summer day.

Recipe

4 oz Bombay Sapphire Gin
1 oz Smirnoff Citron Twist
Cucumber slices and lemon to garnish

If I were sunning on my roofdeck with some great sci-fi and my pooch I would amp it up into the following full drink version:

2 oz Bombay Sapphire
1 oz Stoli Limon
1 oz Cointreau
Balance with Lemon Italian Soda
Pour over ice and garnish with cucumber and lemon

And if I wanted to reminisce about glowing dildos and fantasize that I'm at the end of the universe I'd go with the nuclear meltdown version:

2 oz Bombay Sapphire
1 oz Blue Curaceo
Balance with lemonade
Garnish with amputated frog-legs

The Sazarac at TIME

I spent the better part of last Monday evening in TIME, a whiskey bar and steakhouse where TK tends bar. The place used to be a dodgy German beer bar but has been remodeled into a destination spot for whiskey acolytes. When it was Ludwig’s, I never would have ordered the steak tartare, but I felt like my intestinal tract was in good hands at TIME.

TIME’s whiskey bar is a handsome, dark wood behemoth lined with bottles and bottles of whiskey—bourbon, rye, Scotch and Irish. It’s classy in a dude kind of way, which is probably why most of the patrons were guys. According to TK, that’s pretty par for course there.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I like drinking with guys who appreciate whiskey, particularly when they are famous for breaking world records that relate to the mixing of delicious cocktails.

Bobby G., master mixologist for Jim Beam, dropped in to pay a visit and get some Old Fashioneds while visiting the old city of bro-lo. The dude was cool, a gregarious, balding man who tends bar in Vegas. According to legend, his magic hands whipped together 253 cocktails in 60 minutes in a Vegas bartending competition. I’m professionally jealous!

Mr. G. was generous with knowledge and offered TK some tips for whisking whiskey and making a Sazerac—an old timey whiskey cocktail that was new to me. It seems like there are a variety of ways to make a Sazerac but the basic ingredients are bourbon, an anise-flavored liquor, bitters and a lemon rind.

Bobby G. suggested that TK use Basil Hayden, Herbsaint and orange bitters, which worked out really well.

For those who are unfamiliar with Herbsaint, it’s an anise-based liquor that hails from New Orleans. It was developed as an absinthe substitute by M. Legendre and Reginald Parker who had learned how to make the ill-reputed liquor in New Orleanse. It is very similar to the Green Fairy, but without the wormwood and staggering alcohol content. It gave the cocktail an anisey-herbaceous character with the lemon and bitters providing citrusy aromatics. I think this would be an excellent whiskey cocktail for the summer because it’s spritelier than a Manhattan and not as old-grampa as an Old Fashioned.

Sazerac Cocktail, ala Bobby G.

Ingredients
2 rocks glasses (old fashioned glasses)
Enough Herbsaint to coat the glass
1 ½ ounces of Basil Hayden
1 raw sugar cube
3 dashes of bitters (orange work well)
Lemon rind
Ice

Directions

1. In one glass, muddle sugar with a little water and bitters. Add bourbon and a few ice cubes. Stir.
2. Chill the other glass, then discard the ice and coat with Herbsaint
3. Strain the bourbon mixture to the Herbsaint-coated glass.
4. Twist and squeeze lemon peel over the glass, rubbing the rim. Discard the peel or use as garnish.

**Beer Camp** The Witbier

In my early days of beer-drinking, I had only tasted lagers (Yuengling, Red Stripe) with an occasional IPA (Sierra Nevada) thrown in. Drinking beer was a soulless and tasteless endeavor and left me feeling full, drunk and not that satisfied. Because I was not yet indoctrinated into the magic of hops, I found IPAs to be bitter and unpleasant and lagers to be bland and gassy. Then I met the witbier and thus began my love affair with the malt, the yeast and the holy hops.

Exemplified by the ubiquitous Hoegaarden, this style of ale is very pale and cloudy. It is straw in color and often has a thick head with gads of heavenly lace. Because it is light and usually very refreshing, witbier (White Ale) was once found only in the spring and summer months. But brewery marketing teams caught on to its popularity with novice beer drinkers and ladies. Now it is common to find this style of ale during all seasons. Some American craft brewers have taken to brewing what they call ‘winter whites,” which I find basically indiscernible from regular whites, except they usually have snowy scenes on the beer labels. In order to amp it up a little bit and make this style attractive to the veterans, brewing companies have also taken to creating juiced up “Double Whites,” which pack more alcoholic punch than your average witbier.

Often beer snobs eschew what they call ‘yellow beer.’ What they are usually referring to is American macrobrew swill like Coors Light or Miller Light. These beers tend to be fairly low in both alcohol and flavor. They are lager styles, which are bottom-fermented at much cooler temperatures, and are often brewed at quick speeds with sugar to speed up the process. Not so of Witbier, which while it is definitely yellow in color, is a type of top-fermenting ale which, brewed at higher temperatures, often has layers of complexity and flavor. The typical witbier has a distinct citrus nose with a ‘wheaty’ body and spices like nutmeg, coriander and orange peel (sometimes they can be pimped out with florals and exotic spices).

10 Wits worth Trying

St. Bernadus Witbier, Brouwerij St. Bernardus NV, Belgium
Allagash White, Allagash Brewing Company, Portland, ME
Midnight Wit, Legacy Brewing Company, PA
Hoegaarden Grand Cru, Brouwerij van Hoegaarden, Belgium
Whirlwind Witbier, Victory Brewing Company, PA
Ommegang Whitte, Brewery Ommegang, NY
Red & White, Dogfish Head Brewery, DE
Little White Lie, Russian River Brewing Company, CA
Blanche de Brooklyn, Brooklyn Brewery, NY
Blanche de Chambly, Unibroue, Canada

To Wit or not to Wit

Southhampton Double White, Publick House, Southhampton, NY

As Americans we feel compelled to build everything bigger—cars, skyscrapers, burgers and, yes, beers. Remember that this is land that shoves so many hops in its beer an avid IPA drinker may get stopped by the five-oh for transporting dope (the two plants are closely related and smell alike). Welcome the Double Wit style. American craft-brewers are no longer happy with wimpy ABVs, even in beer that is not notoriously strong.

Weighing in at a modestly hefty 7.2, the Southhampton Double White Ale hides its alcohol content like a teenager sneaking home after a kegger. Lemony fresh on the nose, the palate resonates sunshine—mainly light citrus fruit with just a smidge of almond. Unlike some other American Whites I have had recently, the Southhampton Double does not feel in the mouth like a bowl of frosted mini-wheats. It’s less globby than some, but still has a nice powdered-sugary sweetness.

The finish is the kind of smooth and refreshing that hits the spot on a warm spring day. It gives me an idea for the slogan—Double Wheat is Double Sweet.

Cute Animals on Wine Labels

Papillon Pinot Noir (2004) Cherry Hill Winery, Oregon

Normally I go for reds with big, fat fruit like Zinfandels and Shiraz or a whole lot of structure like Cabs and Malbecs, but I must say I am a sucker for wine labels with cute animals. Give me a penguin or a puppy on the label and my decision is made. So it was that I bought the Papillon Pinot Noir from the 'last chance' discount rack even though the Pinot is not my favorite varietal. The funny looking little pooch did it for me.

The reason for my anti-Pinot sentiment is that I have often had inferior Pinot Noir. I have come to realize this and to try not to be varietally bigoted based on cheap bottles, particularly of a grape that is difficult to reign in. The whole Sideways frenzy also put me off the grape for awhile because the hype significantly hiked the cost of a bottle.

The Papillon was nicely paired with a grass-fed sirloin and Rochefort cheese mashed potatoes. Normally I would have gone with Alexander Valley Sin Zin for this meal, but I was not disappointed at all with the flavor marriage. A lot of red currents and cherries on the nose with just the faintest a trace whiff of star anise. On the palate, I was pleasantly surprised by the tannic structure, which is not something I have come to expect from Pinot Noir, but which really stood up to the flavorful foodsteaky goodness.

The linger was a slight licorice-vanilla.

Whiskey for Everyone

Jameson 18 Years Old Master Selection, Jameson Distillery, Ireland

The Philadelphia Whiskey festival, held annually in the Crystal tea-room is a funny little fest. Particularly if you don't talk overly-loud, slap your cronies on the back and have never voted for Bush. Not to mention, if you're not a dude.

I went with my bartender-buddies because we got free promotional tix (with its normal $100 price tag, who can say no?) Whiskey festivals can easily lead to debauchery, debasement and your out-of-character karaoke performances, but that's a story for another day. We were treated like rock stars by the vendors because we know how to act in public. And often they would keep the whiskey flowing long past the normal cutoff point. My favorite vendor was the adorable, Irish-brouged Jameson rep who let me keep refilling my snifter with nectary-goodness, particularly once I stumbled across the Jameson 18.

After the first half-ounce hit my tongue, I thought I'd found a corner of heaven just for me. (I'm not sure they allow whiskey in heaven -- well, not Protestant heaven, at least, but who knows what those crazy Catholics get up to up there). One thing is certain, Jameson 18 is really something spectacular. The nose is clean, with a hint of violet and wood. On the palate, it's like a sexy party in the mouth. Oh, and this romp takes place on an oaky, hard-wood floor, surrounded by luscious tropical flowers and everybody's rubbing sweet, musky bath oil on each other.

Well worth the price tag, which at $80 a 750ml is comparable to a high end single malt.